#or at the very least as politely as possible explain it's not them it's you; but you're just too damn tired to answer questions

[lov3-from-loserlane]

Qiu Lin character/enneagram analysis

@onelastskip thank you so much for the request!

I did have every intention of making this write up, sorry it took so long!! Unfortunately a lot of my hard ““evidence”” comes from beta and other patreon exclusive content, but I can absolutely write a more generalized and theoretical response about Qiu’s enneagram. And I literally just replayed the prologue yesterday so it is freshhh.

(I also love the enneagram, I prefer it over MBTI. Great minds think alike ;) )

And if you’re a newbie to the enneagram, don’t worry! I’ll be thorough with my explanations, so you should be able to follow along. Verrrrrry thorough hahahhaah. This post is literally over 2k words.

But! Just think about this as a general character analysis through the lense of the enneagram. It’ll be at least kind of interesting and fun, I promiseeee 😉🤞

So, anyway, let’s get started then.

I typed Qiu as a 3w2 sx/so

So what does this mean?

I believe that Qiu is an enneagram 3 with a 2 wing. The instinctual variants for their enneagram being sx and so. I’ll explain what that all means later on, but we’ll start with just about the basic description of the enneagram.

Enneagram 3 Description

The Enneagram is a personality theory that aims to describe the most vulnerable parts of ourselves, our hopes, our fears, our motivations, and potentially our trauma. It’s how we see the world and make sense of our emotions.

So then, what does it mean to be an enneagram 3?

Well, 3s in their most basic form, can be understood this way:

The enneagram 3 is defined by their need to differentiate themselves from other people through their accomplishments and can appear incredibly ambitious and goal oriented. 3s like to keep themselves busy, and their schedules are usually jam-packed with things to do. They’re very charismatic and acutely aware of the correct polite conduct. They make it a point to make good first impressions. 3s do not believe that they are inherently worthy of being loved, however, and that being loved comes as a result of what they can achieve. 3s fear their own irrelevancy, and are driven by a need for attention and admiration.

I’m sure you noticed that some of that description does fit Qiu! However, there’s a lot that *doesn’t* which probably stood out, and needs to addressed.

Like, what’s this about being super goal-oriented, ambitious, and needing to be successful? Nothing about Qiu, from what we’ve seen, proves that to be true about them.

Those of you who know the enneagram may even be thinking, “well, what about enneagram 2? They’re also people oriented, want to be liked and appreciated, and then we don’t have to worry about the fact that Qiu doesn’t seem necessarily ambitious or goal-oriented on being successful.”

Well, I kinda mislead you there. Because I think Qiu is very ambitious and goal-oriented, just not in the way we traditionally think about these concepts. Usually we think a person with these traits aims to someday have a high paying job, invent something new, do something genius that’ll get them celebrated worldwide or accumulate a comfortable amount of wealth. Which doesn’t sound like Qiu at all. But that’s not the only way this desire can be exhibited.

Instinctual Variants:

Thats where the instinctual variants of the enneagram come in. Instinctual variants are basically just subtypes of the enneagram, different ways in which the same enneagram can be presented. And it’s a part of enneagram that is relatively more unknown, but can actually be a huge help in figuring out which enneagram applies to you/a character. (So if you’re into enneagram at all, I recommend checking them out! Fair warning: the instinctual variants can really delve into the worst possible version of your psyche in a lot of cases, so be prepared for that. Be honest with yourself.)

Anyway, the instinctual variants are abbreviated as “sx”, “so”, and “sp”. These stand for “sexual”, “social”, and “self-preserving”, respectively.

I typed Qiu as a sexual 3. NOW CHILL cause before you come at me “sexual” doesn’t LITERALLY mean sexual, sexuality, sex, etc. I mean in some cases it can definitely be related, but it does not mean that inherently. And that’s not what I’m gonna be talking about with Qiu like at all. I don’t know why they called it that, I didn’t make it up. I just read about it and then apply it to fictional characters in my tumblr posts 😪

But anyway, the sx 3 can often times not look like a traditional 3, which would make Qiu a little difficult to type as a 3 initially. But once you get into the description of the sx 3, it starts to become more clear.

Sx 3s aren’t so much focused on making achievements in the real world so much as they are on pleasing others and creating an appealing image around themselves. They extract feelings of accomplishment from the happiness and success of the people around themselves. Unlike other 3s, sx 3s aim to connect to others mentally through supporting them. They expend much of their energy for the sake of other people, and they’re hardworking and ambitious in this way. They don’t necessarily feel the need for tangible achievement like other 3s. They love, admiration, and desire of others is enough for them. They are unconventional achievers in this way. Sexual 3s have a very community driven mentality, where they’re always looking out for the greater good of the whole team.

They can also often times feel the need to play into the role of an easily digestible feminine or masculine image, depending on how they were assigned at birth 😳 Whichhhh I want to yank a quote from the beta moment “fancy fun” for this so bad. But you’re just gonna have to guess what I’m talking about if you played it. And if you haven’t, I’m sorry 😔‼️ but I do feel like this point can be somewhat inferred from the demo, if only abstract based on how Qiu conducts themself.

Now, the enneagram 2’s flavor of wanting to be “likeable” isn’t necessarily rooted in being admired and looked up to. In a lot of ways, it’s the opposite. The enneagram 2 wants to be useful and needed by others. Qiu may feel like they are useful and that they are needed, but that’s not necessarily what they’re looking for. Qiu at the end of the day just wants for people think they’re cool and kind and the best friend ever. Which is why I don’t think they are a 2, they simply have a 2 wing. (The wing just being another thing that indicates what way the enneagram presents itself).

So yeah, I think sx 3 is the perfect fit for Qiu. Because while they don’t necessarily need to be revered for any personal accomplishments, (only rarely taking the opportunity to brag, and if they do it’s played off more or less as a joke) they do however have this intense need to be liked as a person and looked up to for that reason.

Childhood Wound:

Another way we can infer somebody’s enneagram would be based on their “childhood wound.” In enneagram, this would be the root of where this person’s enneagram would come from. Meaning yes, a person’s enneagram is established during their childhood years and does not change.

The childhood wound of the enneagram 3 is as follows:

(Screenshotted from a deleted user on Reddit)

Based on some information given in the QnAs on patreon, we can infer that this is true of Qiu’s childhood. But I also believe it can be inferred by public content as well.

Based on how Qiu conducts themself, I don’t think kids in Golden Grove ever really appreciated Qiu for being Qiu. People liked them because they were expending themselves for the sake of others, trying their best to include everybody and putting on this “act” of being cool about everything. They actively minimize their own needs/boundaries while being hyper aware of everyone else’s. This made them likable, which made them popular, which made them a high commodity to their classmates.

We also kind of get this in the explanation for Baxter’s crush on Qiu. Baxter could have liked Qiu genuinely, I’m not discounting that at all, after all he was one of their closest friends in childhood. However, the way he goes about rationalizing it to himself is this:

(Screenshotted from the GBPatch tumblr)

“You’re popular, so why shouldn’t I like you.” And it’s safe to assume a lot of other people felt the same way about Qiu, whether it be related to a crush or completely platonically. It was this sort of self fulfilling prophecy where Qiu tried their best to live up to the expectations of others, which made them even more desirable to people, which made them feel they had to become subservient to these expectations, which made people want them all the more. And in a way, they themselves kinda wanted that. They actively seek out that kind of attention and feel fulfilled when it’s received. But not to this extreme of a point, as we can see in Step 2.

What about Step 2?!:

That brings us to one glaring problem some may already be considering. Qiu’s personality in Step 2. It seems to have taken a complete 180 from how they were in Step 1.

In Step 2, the last thing Qiu wants is attention or to be around people at all. They could seemingly care less if they’re liked which can be observed in how they treat Tamarack’s concerns about their litter in the current Step 2 preview. They straight up disregard her feelings completely, and not politely. Qiu really just wants to hide away from it all and not be bothered. And if the enneagram is developed during childhood and then never changes, wouldn’t it be better to find something that also encompasses that side of them? Maybe they’re not a 3, or even a 2!

Weeeeeell ackshually ☝️🤓, I think enneagram 3 is still very applicable to Step 2 Qiu, but there’s not much I can say about that *definitively* at the moment.

However, we do have this description of Step 3 Qiu to work off of:

(Screenshotted from the GBPatch tumblr)

So obviously, Qiu’s presentation in Step 2 isn’t all that it seems. Qiu is actively *going against* their true nature during Step 2 for one reason or another. My best guess would have to be that they feel they previously let their identity rely too heavily on the needs of the people around them, and that notion freaks them out. So even if, in a way, their true identity DOES revolve around what they can be for others, they also want to make sure there’s a real, individual, person in there somewhere. Maybe in a twisted and fucked up way you can suggest that it is in fact because our culture heavily celebrates and looks up to that kind of individuality. Like, we as a society can consider it an admirable quality to be an outcast for the things that make us unique. That could potentially be added motivation. But thatssssssss really pushing it kind of and I’m talking out of my ass a little bit. So I’ll leave it there. 🥱

Either way, we can conclude that in Step 2 Qiu is not at all a “completely different person,” I don’t really think that’s even possible, and tbh I hope people don’t believe that about them. But I do think that they are actively *trying* to be. Which is sooooo 3, in a way (I sound like an astrology girl heheh >:3) But yeah, as a young teen, you think you know you want a lot of things. And then when you grow up, you realize that’s not what you actually wanted in the first place.

Side tangent, this is also why I loveee the idea of playing the game with jealousy/envy turned on for Qiu. I just feel like it’s so natural to their arc, but that’s just my own personal interpretation/preference.

But anyway, that’s how I came to my conclusion, Qiu is an enneagram 3w2!

Conclusion:

Let me once again reiterate that this is literally pseudoscience, so there isn’t an end all be all. You could totally think I was wrong and have your own ideas, and we could all totally be wrong and right and the same time together. I just do this stuff for fun, cause I think it’s cool and interesting and helps me better understand both my favorite characters in fiction and the viewpoints of people completely different from me ^_^

If you read this, I honestly CANNOT thank you enough, seriously. Because wow this post was crazy and long and insane and insanely crazy long. And I feel like I’m really bad and disorganized when it comes to explaining things. But I appreciate it if you did take an interest! I hope you were entertained and learned something new.

Qiu was specifically requested, and this post is long enough as it is. And that’s without all the beta and patreon stuff, which then we could be here for hours getting into the nitty gritty details. But anyway, I would love to do a separate analysis on Tamarack’s enneagram next. Though spoiler alert, her’s will be a lot moreeeee theoretical and hard to explain T~T I’m sure that would be super fun for me to attempt though HAHA. So if you’d be interested in that, let me know! And if you wouldn’t, too bad because I’ll probably do it anyway!

(PS. I tried to make sure not to give away anything directly related to content only included in the patreon. But, if I made a mistake, please let me know and I will edit it out of the post immediately!)

My references:

[medicinemane]

.

[liberalsarecool]

From Professor Christopher Robichaud, Senior Lecturer in Ethics and Public Policy, Harvard:

“I'll say this, and then I likely won't be saying much more on here for quite some time, to the relief of some, I'm sure. But my farewell warning is this.

Everyone in the days and weeks ahead will use this loss as an opportunity to seek validation for their own hobby horse complaint. Harris lost because she campaigned with Liz Cheney. Harris lost because she didn't embrace Gaza. Harris lost because she didn't choose Shapiro. Harris lost because she wasn't progressive enough (possibly my favorite one).

Take a good, hard look at the map, my friends. Trump has won the popular vote. Trump ran the table. Explaining that with your hobby horse issue isn't going to cut it, tempting and consoling as it may be. The problem isn't the electoral college. The problem isn't that we didn't have a full primary. The problem isn't Harris. The problem isn't that Dems didn't have the right message. The problem isn't even inflation or the border.

The problem is so much worse than any of those things. Those are all technical problems, with straightforward expertise fixes. If only it were so! No, our problem is not technical. It's very much adaptive. A party that embraced the Big Lie, supported an insurrection, and has been selling conspiracy-addled madness for years, [which] was widely and enthusiastically embraced. Voter turnout was profound! People didn't sit this out.

Simply put, the problem--as some of you have rightly posted--is cultural. America, culturally, has completely abandoned a politics of decency and respect and has embraced instead a politics of resentment, revenge, false nostalgia, and bullying. And if you look at the demographics, you also won't be able to comfort yourself that it's just a white thing, or a working class thing, or an education thing. It's multi-class, multi-gender, multi-educational, and multi-racial. That's what winning the popular vote means. That's what running the table amounts to.

A culture that has descended to this level of debasement is not easily fixed. In fact it may not ever be fixed. The timeline for changing something like this is decades--at best--not two-to-four year election cycles. You can extend that in this case, because with the GOP likely controlling all branches of federal government and the courts, they will ensure that mechanisms are in place to keep them in power long after their popularity has waned. You can count on that.

The GOP evolved into a party of rage, lies, and revenge--and it correctly diagnosed that there was and is a large appetite for that. That's what the country wants. At least enough of the country wants it to ensure broad appeal and widespread electoral success. The old GOP will never return, and the Dems have nothing to say to American culture at the moment. Nothing. They've been speaking to a country that's gone, like dust in the wind.

And that's my final thought, which my posts last night alluded to. The America I knew and loved is gone. This new America--nah, I won't even bother. I will say that cultural change is less likely to occur in politics or in the academy. You're not going to get people to see how vulgar they've become through a clever argument or a nice campaign speech, that's for sure.

This would be time for the arts, broadly understood, to step in. The arts can change hearts and minds. Too bad the arts have been systematically dismantled in education in this country, and on the other end, the tech industry's assault on the arts through AI is sure to hollow out any good-faith efforts that might emerge.

And for the rest of the world, America's rightward lurch is, I'm afraid, bad news for you too. I know you know this. Because it's not isolated, is it? It's just at the moment the most prominent example of a burgeoning trend. And this will embolden others in other countries, to be sure. We need not speculate what happens when countries become mired in lies, embrace resentment, and savor bullying. We know exactly what happens. Bloody conflict and global destabilization.

The first quarter of the 21st century will, therefore, in hindsight, be viewed as the seed-planting stage for the absolute shit show that's about to unfold globally over the next two and a half decades. Count on it.

Adopt whatever coping and endurance strategies you have available. You're going to need it.

I think that's all I've left to say.”

The least evolved. The most paternalistic.

The bully. The liar. The most resentful.

This is the reality we are in. FOX and Republicans have been repeating the script for decades.

The Dark Ages are conservative aspirations.

The abdication of values/principles is complete.

'Good faith' no longer exists on the Right. The more reprehensible the action/person, the bigger the addiction. Trump proves this.

Anti-paternalism, anti-fascism and anti-bullying are my paths forward. Join me.

[blade-liger-4ever]

Why I think Miko Nakadai is arguably the best human character in TFP

Don't misunderstand, I know Miko was handled haphazardly throughout the series' run. That said, aside from her skipping off into the battlefield, she was actually a great character - and, in my personal opinion, the actual audience surrogate character in TFP.

Now, let me explain.

Although Miko's backstory is told and not shown - a rich daughter who had everything she could ever want, up to and including two pure-breed cats and piano lessons from age three onwards (which, coincidentally, tells us she's brainy despite her antics) - much can be inferred from what snippets of her past we get, along with her interactions with the Autobots. For one, she obviously can't stand most adult supervision, which is likely because of a few things. For one, back home in Japan, Miko would have had to be proper and polite, always restrained, and had to do what she was told. While this is normal (to an extent) in the West, in the East this is etiquette that needs to be obeyed, especially if you're as well off as she is; her actions, specifically in Japan, will reflect on her parents, but to a far lesser extent in America. Thus, when presented with the freedoms of the USA, Miko not only jumps at the chance for an exchange program that will give her the mobility she craves, she also chooses the place that has the least amount of glamor. By extension of choosing to settle in Jasper, Miko's also displaying two other traits: she's not afraid of going to a place vastly different from her home, and she isn't disgusted by a small town with very little monetary value to it.

Secondly, Miko's disregard for authority from adults but deference to the 'Bots teases us with an insecurity - namely, an insecurity that no adult ever gives her a chance to make her own decisions.

Just think about it: All the times Miko's blown off the human adults, it's when they've tried to decide her life for her. Miko has, from what we can see, had her whole life dictated, up to and including those piano lessons. She may be a prodigy at almost everything, but her preferred instrument is the guitar - and yet, she wasn't given lessons in that from the time she was a toddler. Therefore, she feels confined and controlled by the authority of her elders. And so, while Miko may be able to sway Bulkhead into getting her out of detention and consistently slip past the watchful eyes of the 'Bots, it's out of a desperate motivation to control her own life. Now, she does hold too much interest in the battles and getting to watch them, but wouldn't you have that same eagerness if Gundams or Jaegers came to life before your eyes? Yes, she knows their lives are in danger, that they couldn't come home, but there's still a fantastical element to all of this about the Autobots. And it remains so because while she loves them all, Bulkhead is the only one who, while giving her life advice and trying to keep her in check/alive, lets her make her own decisions and take control of her life and her actions.

And that's why she keeps going to the field. That's why she only listens to the reprimands with half an ear and why she recovers so fast from Optimus' near death experiences, as well as Raf's close call with death.

And that's why Miko's world shatters when Bulkhead is left in a half-dead coma from his fight with Hardshell. Because the one person in the universe who gave her freedom and care without deciding her life for her was not just seriously injured, but possibly on death's door.

That's why Miko runs around without a care until the S2 episode "Hurt": because she wants autonomy to decide her life, even if it's stupid choices that could get her killed.

And after "Hurt", we see a new Miko. Yes, she remains gung-ho and fierce, but she stops running onto the battlefield. She takes less enjoyment from the War. Because now, with the reality of war fresh in her mind, she knows the risks and the stakes involved, and she will never take that or her friends for granted anymore. This is further proved when Miko 'sneaks' along for "Chain of Command", but with a twist: she asks Wheeljack if she can come along - and if memory serves, this is the first mission Bulkhead's been on with herself present since the events before "Hurt". Clearly, Miko is still worried about losing Bulkhead - only, this time, she values the words of the 'Bots, and now seeks permission to join a mission, though she wisely asks Wheeljack for this blessing.

This is the beautiful part of her arc, crowned by her battle with Starscream and his Seekers (which is also just straight up awesome.) When she's kicked the afts of everyone, and Starscream tries to intimidate her with his usual "I killed Cliffjumper" speech, Miko's response is this calm, slightly rough, retort:

"Big whoop. I snuffed Hardshell."

In this moment, Miko Nakadai is shown to have grown from an excitable child into an unyielding, but mature, adult warrior. She no longer treats the War and the 'Bots like a game, or a release. She treats them as her friends who she will gladly risk her own life for.

And that, in my opinion, makes her the best human protagonist in all of Transformers: Prime, and Transformers media in general.

As for what I said earlier about her being the true audience surrogate, be honest with yourselves: If any of us were given the chance to meet the Autobots, wouldn't you be just as irrepressible as Miko, as eager to help as she was, and tempted to go to the battlefield to see the action/make sure your 'Bot wasn't going to die? That's what I mean when I say she's the audience surrogate - Miko acts like we would, and learns as we would about the War and the 'Bots if we suddenly came across them.

That's my two cents on Miko, and why she's the human character I respect the most in Transformers...probably of all time. If you liked it, I'm glad; Miko deserves better, and I hope I explained why well.

Til next time, folks!

"Autobots, transform!"

[missmomof3]

Deep Regret (shelby sister fic)

Sorry if this is awful, this is my first time ever trying to write a fanfiction. I'm not sure what this would be classified as but probably too long to be a drabble. Maybe an imagine? If anyone reads this, thank you and I am fine with criticism (I'm sure I did lots of things wrong) but please be kind.

Summary: y/n shelby always tried to make her family happy, but they all believed Grace over her and soon most bonds were disintegrating, especially with Tommy, who she'd always loved and looked up to.

TW:character death, not proofread, possibly missing some so read at your your own discretion.

"Y/N get in here!" Tommy yelled from his office at you where you were sitting in Michael's office doing your homework.

"What did you do this time" Michael asked, irritated but fortunately not at you, he hadn't turned on you.

You had always been Tommy's favorite sibling, him more of a father than a brother to you until Charlie was born. Until recently you'd even lived at Arrowhouse with Grace and him. But after Charlie was born suddenly Grace began complaining to Tommy of how disrespectful you were when no one was around. That you called her names, taunted her and even until they married, had nicknamed little Charlie "the bastard". But just to her, not around anyone else. You hadn't ever done any of that and at first were confused when Tommy began yelling at you frequently and you weren't allowed alone with Charlie anymore.

He held a family meeting without you there to discuss your behavior. By the time that happened you weren't friendly to Grace anymore because what was the point when you'd be in trouble anyways. The family had noticed the tension so for the most part believed Tommy when he told them of your troubling behavior and they began being short with you and before long it felt like all you had left was Ada, Finn and Michael. Polly was no Grace fan but was disappointed in you for supposedly insulting a baby and felt like you should be grateful Grace had agreed to let you live in their house. John, Esme, Arthur and Linda took that line of thinking as well, deeply disappointed in how you went from being one of the sweetest people they knew to being so disrespectful and cruel. They especially were disappointed that you'd be so two-faced and only do this while no one else was around. At least have the backbone to own your behavior was their thoughts.

So now here you were, living with Polly because even though she was disappointed you were still her niece, but living with hostility everywhere. You were still polite when you saw Grace, but now you held yourself back from everyone so their accusations and lack of faith in you didn't hurt so badly.

Responding to Michael's question with a shrug, you got up to walk into Tommy's office ready to be told off again for some imagined offense.

"Sit down y/n," Tommy said coldly, "and explain to me why you felt the need to make my wife cry last night."

Family dinner was held at Arrowhouse last night, and even though you hadn't wanted to go, Ada promised she'd be there and insisted you go with your head held high, knowing you were innocent. She never believed Tommy, remembering how it felt when Grace's betrayal took her Freddy away. Remembering you sneaking to her place to help with Karl, and how alone she felt thinking her brother betrayed her. It baffled her how her family could believe Grace over you, but whenever she brought it up they all asked why Grace would lie when she loved Tommy and she knew how much sending you away and practically severing his bond with you had hurt him. So she, Michael and Finn still staunchly defended you but gave up on getting through to anyone. That's why last night you stuck close to Ada, never being alone with Grace, in the hopes this very incident wouldn't be happening.

"Tell me, oh brother of mine, what did I do to Grace now?" You asked, no longer worried abour his reaction to your attitude since you had already grieved the loss of your relationship.

So he started laying out some imagined conversation that happened in the kitchen when Grace went to ask Mary a question. According to her you'd seen her and started criticizing her hosting skills, telling her what a disaster the upcoming charity gala would be.

You smirked at his tirade, because this time you knew you had proof. "Call Ada, ask her what happened last night" you said, standing up and getting ready to leave.

"I haven't dismissed you yet," Tommy clipped, grabbing your arm. "I am putting you on notice, if you do anything to embarrass Grace tomorrow night at the gala, I will have no choice but to completely cut you from the family the minute you turn 18. That means no help, no using the Shelby name, you'll be on your own."

"Bold of you to assume once I'm 18 I'll be sticking around here" you said, rolling your eyes, "I know my place now, at the bottom. When I'm an adult I'll take care of myself. I'll miss the family I had, but I'll make my own." Then you left.

Tommy sat with his head in his hands. You'd never know how much his heart broke to imagine you completely gone from his life. He didn't know how to reach you anymore. His sister, closer to a daughter. He still loved you so much and had hoped tough love would work, but he missed you deeply and choosing his wife and son had felt like removing a large part of his heart. If only you could have stayed the sweet girl you once were, before jealousy had taken over.

When Grace first went to him with your behavior, he hadn't wanted to believe it. But the more she went to him and the more you denied it the more arguments it caused between him and Grace. Until finally she told him he was putting his true family aside for a girl who wasn't his daughter, who would eventually marry and leave him, while his wife and son suffered in the meantime. It became easier to give in, to be angry at the strife in his house that you were causing. Especially when it stopped as soon as you moved to Polly's.

But he couldn't ignore the voice at the back of his head reminding him Grace was an accomplishhed liar while you had always been awful at it. So he called Ada. 30 minutes later he was more conflicted than ever but knew he needed to get answers from Grace. Ada confirmed you had never been alone with Grace, never even went to the kitchen. Then he spoke to Polly who also had never seen you leave Ada's side. Now Polly was beginning to demand he find out if they had been wrong all along, if her niece had been sacrificed for familiy unity. Michael had been chipping away at her beliefs for awhile now and this seemed to confirm it.

That night, Tommy sat Grace down, determined to find out the truth. After a lot of obfuscation and denial it all came out. She'd been feeling guilty for some time now whenever she saw how heartbroken and torn her husband was, but she was petrified he'd love his son less than his sister, and with her standing in the family being only strong because of Tommy's love for her and Charlie, she panicked and in that panic had thought if she got y/n sent away, Charlie and by extension herself, would always be his top priority.

This saddened him greatly for a multitude of reasons. Her lack of faith in him even though he'd never been the betrayer in their relationship, his poor choices, his cruelty to you, the loss of that bond. It all hurt.

The next day, before heading out on business he demanded a family meeting be held. He made Grace come with him and confess all. She did, because deep down she felt awful that she'd ruined the life of a sweet girl that had never been anything but kind to her. She'd seen the loss of spark in your eyes and couldn't deny any longer how horrible her behavior was. Maybe this could be fixed. At least your relationship with your family, especially Tommy. He missed you deeply and maybe the memories of all the years he'd loved and taken care of you could combat the time he'd spent alienating and breaking your heart.

The family was horrified but not shocked. Deeply disappointed in Tommy and themselves they made a plan to begin making it up to you. Tomorrow, after the gala, they'd all individually apologize and set about making things right. Work was cut short so they could all get ready, but at least tonight they'd be knd to you and start treating you like the beloved little sister you'd always been.

Tommy and Grace rode in silence to the gala. Grace didn't know how to bridge the gap and Tommy was lost in thought. Before they got out he turned to her and said "After you apologize to y/n, we can begin fixing us. You're Charlie's mother and I still love you, but you broke my trust and cost me someone precious. So right now, let's just focus on righting the wrongs we both have done." Grace agreed sadly, knowing it would be a long time before she had her husband back, but accepting this as the consequences for her bad decisions.

For you the night was going great! Everyone was suddenly friendly, and even Tommy had a warmth in his eyes at you that you hadn't seen in a long time. Grace had made a point of complimenting you and suddenly everyone wanted to talk to you. It made the night pleasant, but you weren't getting your hopes up. You'd built walls and they weren't coming down because suddenly people treated you like you were family again. You stuck around Ada and Finn.

While everyone had been having epiphanies and making plans to repair relationships today, you'd been doing some thinking of your own. Mostly thinking about how different your life might have looked had you had parents. They maybe would have loved you unconditionally. Maybe your relationship with your brothers, their wives, your aunt would have been better if they hadn't also had to help raise you. For so long, you hadn't felt you were missing anything because you had brothers, a sister, an aunt, and more recently a cousin and sisters-in-law that loved you ahd made you feel protected and like you belonged. As a child you'd had multiple people to go to for love, advice and help, it never occurred to you that that could all be taken away. Even during the war, the letters you got from your brothers and the presence of Finn, Ada and Aunt Polly had always kept you from feeling lonely. Now you knew that could be taken away and now you knew loneliness. Now you felt like the orphan you were.

Tommy was walking away from some duchess when he caught your eye and motioned you over. You went over hesitantly, hoping you weren't about to be chastised for something. As you walked up to him, he was in conversation with Grace about her necklace. Hoping to slip past them without being seen as everyone was moving into the banquet hall to eat, you suddenly heard someone yell out "For Angel!" with a gun in their hand. At once time slowed down and sped up and all you could think of was little Charlie losing his parents and becoming like you. Not even realizing you were moving, suddenly there was a sharp pain in your stomach and you were falling into another person.

Everything became chaos. Tommy was horror stricken as he held his baby sister's head in his lap while Grace was putting pressure on the wound. He yelled for someone to call an ambulance and kept trying to get your attention, because you were still breathing but staring at the ceiling like you could see someone there.

"Please, y/n, please look at me, stay with me, don't leave me" he begged, running a hand soothingly through your hair as tears streamed down his cheeks, all the while remembering years of time spent together, how you would climb into his bed after the war and just lay beside him when he'd have nightmares, grounding him and reminding him he was home, safe and warm, not in a tunnel, no enemy shovels around.

Grace had one hand putting pressure on your wound, the other holding your hand while she cried as well. She was horrified at what her behavior stole from you, while you had literally saved her life. Thinking back on the sweet little girl back when she was a barmaid, asking her to sing because her voice was "beautiful" Soon she was nudged roughly out of the way by John who took over putting pressure on your wound, tears streaming down his cheeks. His thoughts on the girl he used to throw in the air when she was little, her always trusting he'd catch her.

Arthur was beating the man who had fired the bullet, he couldn't make himself stop. All he could see was you in his arms as a baby, your finger wrapped in his and your eyes looking at him so trusting, and how much he'd let you down by not going against Tommy.

Polly was on the phone getting an ambulance, begging them to hurry, trying to keep herself calm as she remembered all the times when you were little and would hold out your arms, confident you'd get picked up and cuddled, she could almost feel the warmth of your head on her shoulder.

Ada was holding Finn, praying silently for her sister, most recently at an age where she was fun to shop with, try on clothes together, the girl who would confide in her because she trusted Ada's judgement and knew she was safe to be herself with her.

Michael stood at the door waiting for the ambulance, doing his best not to cry, thinking of his cousin who, even feeling alone and rejected by almost everyone, would listen as he spoke about his girlfriend, and who would joke around with him while doing homework.

Esme and Linda stood by Grace, quietly crying, both thinking of how welcoming and sweet you'd been when they were introduced to the family. Esme knowing no one and yet you immediately treated her like a sister, helping with the kids and softening some of Polly's harshness during the London expansion. Linda wishing she'd gotten to know you better, but remembering how you'd hugged her when she and Arthur got married and said how you knew she'd make him happy and help him find peace.

Regret and sorrow ran so powerfully through the large ballroom it felt like they were a physical presence.

[stitched-mouth-vs-the-world]

Making Porn With The Number One Pro Hero

Pairing: Toshinori Yagi (All Might/Skinny Might) x Fem! Pro-Hero! Reader.

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Jealous sex (?), Mirror sex, Oral sex (fem receiving), Secret ((established)) relationship, Recording sex (so y'all make porn), Minor hair pulling, Semi-public sex, Intercourse (P in V), Daddy Kink, you two are almost caught in the act, mention of you two previously being caught in the act, I finally used a condom!! (I usually write about creampies but this time I didn't), Some bitch tries to touch our All Might but fails, We accidentally punch her in the face, Toshi is pussy whipped.

Summary: You have a sex dream about your boyfriend which leads to a fantasy, All Might wants to achieve that fantasy with you after you punch another All Might slut in the face. The fantasy doesn't TOTALLY go to planned.

Format: Kinktober Fic, Day 2.

Writing Time: 7 hours (with no breaks, longest amount of time I've ever spent on a fic).

Word Count: 3,308.

A/N:

Day 2 of Kinktober! Enjoy!

The introduction is ridiculously fucking long, idk why but skip to the first —-//— if you're like me and only interested in the sex. I hate the beginning part anyway and it's very obvious my writing has suffered from my hiatus, but oh well. It will get better.Technically you get railed by Skinny All Might in his Silver Age suit, hope that's ok.I have to give this thing a part 2 at some point, this is way too hot and I'm so proud of it.

I kept writing then deleting then rewriting this shit (which is why it took 7 hours) so y'all better let me know if you like it :)

Here is the masterlist for all my Kinktober 2023 works.

---///---

Being in an secret relationship with the Number 1 Hero was difficult to say the least.

Having to sneak around everyone was fun and slightly erotic at first, but slowly became annoying and a bit painful at times.

You had recently told Toshinori about a sexy fantasy you had of him. To have him fuck you in his dressing room right before an interview, ideally from behind in front of a mirror whilst you record, you two had made porn before (for only you two's eyes, no one else's!!) so recording sex wasn't new to you guys.

Toshinori had giggled like a little schoolboy and covered his growing erection when you told him about your little fantasy, and said it sounded very hot. But after you kissed him and gave him a handy right then and there, he calmed down a bit and explained to you how unlikely it was to happen, he feared someone would walk in and catch you both (one person had before) and possibly tell someone.

Sadly your lover had made it clear countless times before he didn't want a public relationship for the sake of protecting you and others. You understood completely and was happy Toshinori valued protecting you over everything, but that didn't mean you didn't long to hold his hand in public.

Very few knew about you two; Young Midoriya, David Shield, Sir Nighteye (RIP) and Aizawa (Aizawa finding out was an accident, he had caught you two in a compromising position in Toshinori's classroom after school hours). But you both was content with those who knew about you two, you trusted all of them, and didn't plan on adding anyone else to the list.

Early on into your pro-hero career, you were introduced to one journalist and news reporter who you honestly couldn't remember the name of. She was young and very attractive, no doubt becoming the face of her news station because of her pretty face and impressive figure. She was well known to interview pro heroes and flirt with them, and unsurprisingly lot of them would flirt back.

She had interviewed All Might a few times and like usual she would flirt a lot. He'd see straight through her and politely respond in a professional way, so you had no problems with her because you trusted your boyfriend to shut down her advances. She wouldn't be the first girl to throw themselves at the Number 1 Hero and definitely wouldn't be the last, so you were used to seeing Toshinori be placed in uncomfortable situations which made you feel bad for him but due to your relationship being a secret you didn't feel like it was your place to cut in. But Toshinori always handled it well.

One interview you didn't see coming though.

It was a standard scheduled interview on set of a news station, like Good Morning America or something. Several pro heroes were in to be interviewed, including both you and All Might. With All Might becoming weaker and weaker by the day and unable to hold his form for long periods of time, this was his last scheduled interview. And you were so happy you could be there with him.

You were lucky enough to be able to be interviewed with your boyfriend.

"So, Mr All Might, I'd love to go over some of your best fights of your career..." The news anchor smiled and batted her eyelashes at him.

"Of course! I'd love to!" All Might grinned.

For the millionth time? Really? You rolled your eyes.

"BUT before we do that, I'd like to talk about your more personal life first..." She grinned back, moving closer to him on the long couch you were all sharing.

You moved uncomfortably in your seat and looked around, not really knowing what to do with yourself.

"Ok, sadly I can't promise I can all questions about my personal life but you can absolutely ask." All Might smiled.

"Great! So... you have had quite a long career as a pro hero who is very much so in the public eye, I imagine forming and keeping relationships in your personal life can be difficult?" She asked.

All Might moved his head to both sides as if he agreed and disagreed with her assumption, "Well it's definitely not easy forming them, but keeping the ones I have been lucky enough to form is easy. I'm very lucky to be surrounded by friends and family who I know care about me both as All Might and Toshinori."

The reporter nodded, "Right. As you mentioned family, are you planning on starting a family?"

You raised an eyebrow, feeling although the question was a bit strange.

All Might laughed, his laugh boomed loudly in your poor ears, "HA HA! Oh no Dear, I don't so. I am an old man now, I unfortunately missed the opportunity for a family years ago."

You and Toshinori had only briefly discussed children, you desperately wanting a child later on in your career and Toshinori feel although being Number 1 Hero made having kids not an option and that by the time he retired he was too old. It wasn't really a conversation you two had managed to find a conclusion to, so you were a little annoyed All Might was talking as if it had been decided.

"Well a lot of young ladies like older men, Sir. I know I sure do. And a lot of young ladies would be more than willing to bear The All Might's children." The reporter giggled and moved closer to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

She had never actually touched him before.

All Might chuckled uncomfortably and carefully leaned back to make her hand fall off him, but her hand stayed put. Without really thinking, you leaned over and picked up the foreign hand on your boyfriend's shoulder, and threw it back into the reporter's face. She almost punched herself in the face with her own hand.

You gasped and stood up, "Oh I'm sorry!"

You really didn't mean to do that. You were only trying to get her hands off your man. You hadn't meant you almost punch her.

She quickly fixed her hair and glasses and glared at you for only a split second, before laughing nervously and looking into the camera in front of all of you, "Oh Dear! No worries! We can edit that out, this isn't live."

The cameraman nodded at her and three of you continued your now incredibly awkward interview. All Might breathed a small sigh and grabbed your hand, you couldn't tell what the sigh was for.

—-///—-

Backstage you were sat at your vanity table with your head down on the desk, sighing sadly. You felt so embarrassed, you should of just left Toshinori handle her unnecessary touching. The interview went terribly after that and the reporter remained cold to you until the end.

You were also concerned about people questioning your actions, why were you so concerned about some girl touching All Might? It was such a obvious sign of jealously. Oh Well... at least she didn't touch him again.

A small knock was pressed against your dressing room door and without a response it was opened, "Darling?"

All Might.

He stepped into your room and closer the door behind him as you turned to face him. He immediately deflated in front of you, leaving his skinny scrawny figure in place.

"Hi Love." You sighed and walked over to him.

He quickly wrapped his long arms around you, pulled you close and began kissing your neck.

You blinked in shock, "Toshi?"

"Oh my Love. I never thought I'd ever see you jealous." He whispered against you before biting down on you skin.

You moaned in delight, "S-So you're not mad?"

"Why would I ever be mad Princess?" He laughed a bit, in his Skinny form his laugh sounded so good and didn't burst your eardrum.

Toshinori carefully walked you back over to your vanity table and placed you down in your vanity chair and stared down at you. You looked up at your lover with nothing but love and lust and crossing your legs, feeling yourself get hot down there.

With you sitting down and him standing in front of you, you could see the massive bulge in his pants. Whilst shamelessly staring at his covered dick, you hiked up your legs and pulled everything covering your lower half off and happily showed your lover your wet pussy. You felt no shame (he had seen it all before anyway), only the desire to be fucked. Finally, your filthy fantasy was coming true.

"Oh my Love..." Toshinori sighed again at the completely lewd sight of you and dropped to his knees.

He grabbed your thighs in his massive hands and gave your pussy a sweet kitten lick. You threw your head back and moaned again. He started kissing and licking you slowly before sucking.

God, his tongue felt good. You were going to lose yourself to it.

"Oh baby I want you so much..." Toshinori whispered in between eating you out, whilst pulling you closer and closer to his hungry mouth, scaring you for a brief second into thinking you'd fall out of the chair.

It was dangerous but Toshi wouldn't let you fall, ever.

You pulled his head up from your heat and he whined, "Toshi... I'm so empty now...you need to just fuck me..."

Your lewd expression and hushed tone only made him strain against his suit. Without thinking much, Toshinori stood up and ripped a hole into the crotch area of his Silver Age suit.

You gasped, "Toshi! Your suit!"

"This suit can be fixed, Dear. But later I'll need you to go to my dressing room and bring back something to wear when we're done." He smiled softly while pulling you up and out of the chair.

Toshinori picked up the chair by the armrests and placed it against the door, locking you both in. He turned back to you and smiled again.

You smiled back before turning against and bending over against the vanity table, giving your lover another nice view of your ass and pussycat. You watched him in the mirror grin at your behind and give you a nice loving smack. You bit your lip from the harsh contact and moved your legs further apart for him.

"Fuck..." Toshinori whispered, he was incredibly turned on by the sight of you bent over showing him everything you had to offer.

He quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out a Trojan, ripping the wrapper off with his teeth and pulling it down his proud length. You could tell by his fast movements, he was just as eager to get inside of you as you was.

Toshinori then rubbed your aching entrance with his great throbbing cock. You whined for him to just put it in and he was happy to appease you.

Toshinori always started with slow gentle strokes only with the tip but that wasn't good enough for you now, he had already worked you up from eating you out just a few seconds earlier and the idea of your fantasy had you too desperate now. So you whined again and tried to fuck yourself on his cock at the pace you need. Toshinori caught on pretty quickly and grabbed your hips and pulled you fully around him.

Both of you groaned from the sudden action. Toshinori began moving again, this time fast and rough. You managed to pick up your phone that you had left on the table, turn on the camera, point it at the mirror in front of you and hit record.

The sight was beyond erotic. The Number 1 Hero drilling his secret lover from behind in dressing room on set of a news station. God, it made you so wet. The grin on your face with your moans made it evident.

Because of the mirror, both of you were able to see each other's faces. Toshinori's brow full of sweat and mouth covered in your cum and his own salvia was godly. Not to mention his look of determination as he continued pounding you brought you closer and closer to edge.

"All Might!" You cried, not really hearing yourself over the sound of his balls slapping your cheeks.

But he heard you (and possibly some others in the building) and he groaned in your ear, "Princess! Oh my good little girl!"

Fuck!

He knew calling you 'little girl' made you crazy.

"Oh All Might please!" You begged.

You knew you sounded like a bad pornstar, but you didn't care. You knew Toshi loved it and was about to give into your begging.

But before he could, the worst thing you could imagine happened next. A loud knock on the door.

"Miss?"

Both you and Toshinori froze and stared at each other in the mirror in fear and shook.

"Y-Yes?!" You answered.

"Miss, your driver is here waiting for you. They are outside." It was likely one of the crew members of the station. They turned the door handle, shooting fear through you so bad you could scream, but it didn't open.

The chair Toshinori had put against the door temporarily saved you two. Realising this, he slowly began moving inside of you again. You moaned softly at the feeling and quickly covered your mouth with your free hand (hand not holding up your phone that was still recording).

The crew member must of wondered why the door wasn't opening, considering none of the dressing room doors had locks on them for safety reasons, but didn't ask why or for you to open the door and instead just let go of the handle.

"Oh o-okay...t-thank you. Out in a miiintue!" You quickly choked out.

"Great. Do you happen to know where Mr. All Might is? His car arrived first but he isn't in his dressing room."

"Nooo!" You whined.

You could see the see the evil smile on your boyfriend's face in the mirror. No question, you were going to (try to) kick his ass after this.

"Ok, no worries. Thank you for coming Miss!"

Footsteps were heard leaving the door, presumably to go find your man. Toshinori laughed slightly and pulled your head back by your hair and started moving at the same fast pace he was before.

You groaned at the small pain and glared up at your soulmate, "You like torturing me, asshole?"

"Maybe a little." He smiled.

"Oh please just make me cum, Toshinori." You sighed, giving him your best doe eyed desperate-for-sex expression.

Your lover was more than happy to fulfil your request. This was definitely by far would be the best sex tape you two ever made.

—///—

Later on the two of you were getting ready for better, you had finally finished your night skin care routine and was headed back to you and Toshinori's shared bedroom. He was still up reading a book in bed like usual, he looked and smiled when you walked into the room.

"Toshi," You began as you got comfortable in the bed, "What changed your mind today?"

"About what, Love?" He asked and put his book away to pull you closer to him.

"When I told you about my sex dream, you said it wouldn't happen." You pouted at him.

Toshinori's cheeks darkened, "Well, you got me all hot and bothered during the interview."

"How?" You raised an eyebrow.

"I like to see you handle touchy women for me." Toshinori smiled shyly now.

"Oh really?" You giggled, "You like having a jealous girlfriend?"

"A bit, yes." He admitted.

"Aw... maybe I should set them straight more often." You grinned and kissed his neck.

Toshinori shivered, both from the idea and the attention you was suddenly showing his neck, "Yes please...good girl."

You felt your heat burn at his words as well as his erection grow under the duvet and you eagerly wanted to head down under the duvet. But you both still had something to say.

"I'm sorry love, I was just a little scared about people finding out about us, and being intimate outside our home has got us caught before...and I feel like we already take a big risk with recording our moments together." Toshinori sighed.

"So you don't want to record anymore?" You looked heartbroken.

"Oh no, Princess! Of course not!" He pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist (you could feel his lover's boner, which you wonder if he forgot about), "I love have something to remind myself of our best moments."

"We don't have to record anymore if you're worried it could get out." You replied, still looking sad.

"Honey, that's not what I was saying.." Toshinori kissed your head, "I love you and I love how excited you get by the camera. And I love watching our little videos."

You looked up at him, "I love you Toshi. And I just want you to be comfortable."

"I am comfortable, I'm always comfortable when I'm alone with you." Toshinori smiled.

You turned to look at him and kissed one of his sunken cheeks, "Ok... so if I keep your female fans in line... what will you do for me?"

"What do you want love?" Toshinori asked.

"I want a reward, All Might." You grinned and slowly stroked your lover's excited friend.

He shivered again. Mustering up all his strength, Toshinori transformed into All Might. His erection underneath you went from poking you ass to almost straight up penetrating you. A loud moan came from your throat, the ending of it was muffled from All Might gently pushing you off his lap and all the way down till you were face down onto the end of the bed and ass up.

The muscular blonde Silver Fox gently rubbed your ass with one hand whilst the other fought off this sweat pants (that did absolutely nothing to hide his lower reigns). Once his pants were off and his length was fully exposed, All Might picked up his phone from his nightstand, pointed the camera down at you and hit record.

"Little Princess... do you think my cock at full size is a good enough reward for being such a good girl for me?"

The camera got a very lovely shot of your wetness soaking through your sweatpants just from his words. You felt your cunt clench around nothing and you looked back at your lover.

"Yes please Daddy."

[vulnerary-prince]

From Harvard ethics professor Christopher Robichaud:

“Everyone in the days and weeks ahead will use this loss as an opportunity to seek validation for their own hobby horse complaint. Harris lost because she campaigned with Liz Cheney. Harris lost because she didn't embrace Gaza. Harris lost because she didn't choose Shapiro. Harris lost because she wasn't progressive enough (possibly my favorite one).

Take a good hard look at the map, my friends. Trump has won the popular vote. Trump ran the table. Explaining that with your hobby horse issue isn't going to cut it, tempting and consoling as it may be.

The problem isn't the electoral college. The problem isn't that we didn't have a full primary. The problem isn't Harris. The problem isn't that Dems didn't have the right message. The problem isn't even inflation or the border.

The problem is so much worse than any of those things. Those are all technical problems, with straightforward expertise fixes. If only it were so! No, our problem is not technical. It's very much adaptive. A party that embraced the Big Lie, supported an insurrection, and has been selling conspiracy-addled madness for years was widely and enthusiastically embraced. Voter turnout was profound! People didn't sit this out.

Simply put, the problem--as some of you have rightly posted--is cultural.

America, culturally, has completely abandoned a politics of decency and respect and has embraced instead a politics of resentment, revenge, false nostalgia, and bullying. And if you look at the demographics, you also won't be able to comfort yourself that it's just a white thing, or a working class thing, or an education thing. It's multi-class, multi-gender, multi-educational and multi-racial. That's what winning the popular vote means. That's what running the table amounts to.

A culture that has descended to this level of debasement is not easily fixed. In fact it may not ever be fixed. The timeline for changing something like this is decades--at best--not two-to-four year election cycles. You can extend that in this case, because with the GOP likely controlling all branches of federal government and the courts, they will ensure that mechanisms are in place to keep them in power long after their popularity has waned. You can count on that.

The GOP evolved into a party of rage, lies, and revenge--and it correctly diagnosed that there was and is a large appetite for that. That's what the country wants. At least, enough of the country wants it to ensure broad appeal and widespread electoral success. The old GOP will never return, and the Dems have nothing to say to American culture at the moment. Nothing. They've been speaking to a country that's gone, like dust in the wind.

And that's my final thought, which my posts last night alluded to. The America I knew and loved is gone. This new America--nah, I won't even bother. I will say that cultural change is less likely to occur in politics, or in the academy. You're not going to get people to see how vulgar they've become through a clever argument or a nice campaign speech, that's for sure.

This would be time for the arts, broadly understood, to step in. The arts can change hearts and minds. Too bad the arts have been systematically dismantled in education in this country, and on the other end, the tech industry's assault on the arts through AI is sure to hollow out any good-faith efforts that might emerge.

And for the rest of the world, America's rightward lurch is, I'm afraid, bad news for you too. I know you know this. Because it's not isolated, is it? It's just at the moment the most prominent example of a burgeoning trend. And this will embolden others in other countries, to be sure. We need not speculate what happens when countries become mired in lies, embrace resentment, and savor bullying. We know exactly what happens. Bloody conflict and global destabilization.

The first quarter of the 21st century will therefore in hindsight be viewed as the seed-planting stage for the absolute shit show that's about to unfold globally over the next two and a half decades. Count on it.

Adopt whatever coping and endurance strategies you have available. You're going to need it.

I think that's all I've left to say.”   

[steviewashere]

Kiss and Tell

(Can be found on ao3)

Steddie WC: 2,279 Tags: Post Season 4, Steve Harrington Has Auditory Processing Disorder, Eddie Munson Loves to Talk, Minor Angst, Mostly Fluff, Queer Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Bisexual Awakening, But He Already Knows (Sort of), First Kiss, Lots of Kissing

Based on this post that I made. Happy reading! <3

-------- Steve has a staring problem. He knows this. He's been told this. And it's not something he can help or fix or find an alternative for. This is just what he knows.

It's something he's tried to maintain since he was a little boy. And, on that same note, is something he picked up while being a boy in a room with two adults who were fast talkers and big negotiators and all-in on the nature of their careers. But his parents certainly hate that he has a staring problem. Which, that's not unusual, most people hate that he does. Because he doesn't look them in the eyes for more than thirty seconds at a time. And even if he does, he doesn't hear a single thing they said, politely asking they start over, and feeling hurt when they just scoff as loud as possible and walk away from the conversation all together.

The audio just doesn't process. Never has. Probably never will.

He listens to music, but doesn't understand any meaning. He talks over the phone, but must have all other sound blocked out and the curtains shut and his eyes closed to imagine what the words look like leaving the other person's mouth. He argues, but loses track of the original point of the argument—when he laughs instead of apologizes.

And it would be fine—if—he wasn't close to losing his life every year. Where he has to listen to everybody and the important tiny details and the plans and the reasons for what they're doing. Which leads him to danger. Which gives him a bruised face. Which makes the listening even harder, once the concussion leaves and he's just got the leftover damage of his quirkiness.

It would be fine—if—he wasn't made to feel so stupid for what he must do. The jabs and the constant reminders and the...yeah, his sob story.

But there was Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins, who he could keep up with. Because they'd talk about the same things over and over, until he could practically relay all the information, pulled straight from the deep crevices of his brain, and it ends up that they had forgotten, rather than him.

And there was Nancy Wheeler, who was polite enough to repeat things. Who had flash cards and a soft, focusing voice. It was easy to write off looking at her lips. "Eyes up here, Steve," she'd say. "Sorry," he'd respond sheepishly, "getting lost." And he'd chuckle and she'd giggle and then they'd kiss a little and he wouldn't be reminded that he's just a little weird. That, maybe, he just isn't normal.

Robin Buckley makes things easy-ish. She talks fast. And a lot. And she never looks him in the eyes, unless she's asking for a very serious favor, or he has something on his face, or she just feels the need (she claims it's that she hasn't looked in a while, but he shrugs her off every time). (If he can get away with staring at her lips, then she can get away with never looking him in the eyes.) He's mentioned, though, that he has a hard time following her sometimes. That he needs the words repeated a few times. Explained the lip thing, with a tense voice and a quake in his chest and his fingers tapping at the sides of his thighs. And, for a brief moment, he had felt like a creep. Like one of those weirdos that preys on the idea of women kissing. And he wanted to open up Family Video's register, shove his head inside, and sort himself out into the container of fives. But she shrugged, said "Okay," and went back on some ramble, to which he was immediately drawn to her mouth. And saw her repeat the name, Vickie, at least twenty times. He grinned and then when the store was empty, he leaned across the counter and teasingly said, "You have a big fat crush on Vickie, don't you?" To say that he was proud of her sputtering is an understatement.

Now, Dustin and the others were harder to get through. Because they moved at their own pace. And they don't really stop to add him to the conversation. He gets it, to an extent. He knows that he's not really all that intrigued in what they enjoy. (Even if he really leans into the conversation when they mention Sherlock Holmes or Dracula or Star Wars or, even, Star Trek. And he pretends to not be interested in their science fair projects. Or the one time he caught them huddled around a Sports Illustrated, in which he fought the urge to chat their ears off about both baseball and basketball statistics.) But there's a point in the conversations where he's made to feel a little dumb; even if he was staring where they were speaking, but they always grow frustrated, a huff of air released, when they notice he's not "paying attention" (translation: looking them in the eyes. "Because, Steve, it's just talking etiquette!" Dustin had shouted once).

He loves all of them anyway. Even if he misses words. And he loses track of what they were saying. He just wishes they were a little bit more forgivable about it at the end of the day.

Then, Eddie Munson is walking along side him in an alternate universe. He's peeled the vest off his back and chucked it at Steve. And they're talking. Jealous of one another, but talking. But, Eddie's voice goes soft and quiet, his eyes pointing towards Nancy's back.

Steve is looking at Nancy, words fading into the background. And it's not a moment of realization. Or a moment of longing. Yearning, what say you. No—it's one of his moments in which he's "listening," but not processing. So he looks back. And for a mere second, Eddie's eyes are big where Steve stares. Big and wet and curious. Big and wet and persuasive. Big and wet and not at all his lips and Steve is still not listening.

But his lips. Well, Steve's seen lips. These are pretty. They're pink. Chapped and bitten and plush appearing. Mesmerizing. Stretching over Eddie's sharp teeth, exposing dimples and smile lines, making his recent stubble more noticeable than it's ever been before. But his lips are pretty.

Like girls lips, Steve muses. Not really taking in what that means. Because Eddie's saying something about true love. And—shit—okay. Steve can get behind an act of true love. He can get behind sharing denim and coating Eddie's clothes in blood and staring down his lips and—god, his eyes, Steve can't help but notice once more.

Eddie's like a vulnerable cow. With pretty lips, he has to point out. Or a baby deer. With such pretty lips. And he's talking and Steve's finally listening. But it's not just processing. No, Steve's intrigued, interested even. He tilts his head like a curious puppy. Leaning in. Eddie's breath ghosts the tip of his nose. And, sure, it's a little rank. But weirdly sweet. Warm where Steve is otherwise cold. Warm in places Steve's never considered to feel warm in, but he's willing to give in, to wrap up in whatever Eddie has to say. If it all means more of him.

So, it makes sense that after all that they go through, Steve finds himself in Eddie's orbit. As a friend. As a trauma bond. As everything Eddie needs him to be.

He sits on the Munson's couch. On the cushion that dips a little too low. The lights orange and dim and casting beautiful streaks of almost candle light on Eddie's soft, beautiful features. Highlighting where his nose is the most bulbous. His pronounced Cupid's bow. The outer edges of his irises, golden and honey against the off-white of his scleras.

Eddie talks like Robin does. Excited. A lot. Fast. But his voice is soft, focused on the information—like Nancy's. It's teasing, like Dustin's. Soft, though. So gentle. Murmured. Which makes sense, if Steve were to stop and think about it for just a moment. With how late it is. With the little amount of weed they smoked. And it all just fits, with how slow and careful Eddie's lips move. As if testing the words. As if searching for what he means.

But, god, Steve is following along. Of course he is. Hanging onto each one of Eddie's words.

"So, the cashier at the record store got all apprehensive about selling me this tape. Which, I guess makes sense because it's a special edition. Comes with a photo card or whatever, but like—Come on, y'know? If he wanted it so bad, he should'a bought it the moment it dropped. Not my fault he slacks on not just his job, but also his opportunities," Eddie rambles. And, that's right, he's complaining about the music store encounter he had today. Trying to buy some album for some band. Steve got lost part of the way through, so he's not sure who exactly Eddie was getting a tape for. The style of music. But he has most of the information. He just—

Has to squint harder.

So, Steve leans in. As casual as he possibly can. And narrows his eyes at Eddie's lips. The word pretty comes to mind again. Because of course it does. And he can't pull his eyes away, no matter how hard he tries. For some reason, the tips of his fingers tingle a little. Wanting to reach out. Trace his lower lip, right where it sticks out, just above the divot of his chin. Would it be soft, he asks himself. Does he wear chapstick? Steve sighs softly. I wish I could...taste it. His eyes widen, just the tiniest bit. But he ignores that in favor of whatever Eddie is saying. If only he could make it out. He leans impossibly closer.

And there it is again. The soft puffs of warm air. On the tip of his nose. His own lips. Tickling his stubble. Eddie's breath smells like weed and strawberry Tab; a little bit of Kraft macaroni and cheese. Maybe the smallest trace of pepper—

"Uh, Steve?" Eddie nervously calls out. But gets no response. Steve is only a couple inches away from his face. Eyes hooded. Glassy. Zeroed in on Eddie's lips. He's not talking. Doesn't even give a hum. Just...keeps staring.

Eddie sucks in a breath. Eyes darting over Steve's face. He doesn't talk again, hoping maybe Steve will stop. But, nope. In fact, the only thing Eddie gets as acknowledgement for the fact he's stopped talking, is that Steve pouts. Upset. As if his lips no longer moving is some great catastrophe to Steve, some tragedy, some misfortune.

And, Eddie, the awful wreck that he is, can only assume that this means one thing.

Steve wants a kiss. And is, maybe, too chicken shit to close the gap.

So, with no other option. And definitely not wanting to get away from the heated, stirring, calm mask of Steve's face—Eddie presses his mouth against Steve's. Hesitantly smushing their lips together. Dragging his lower lip against Steve's soft scowling one.

And he pulls away. Because Steve isn't doing anything in response.

No, in fact, Steve is extremely expressive now.

Wide eyes. Mouth opened into a silent "Oh." His cheeks are flushed. And as quick as it came upon him, whatever realization that was, fades. Like a cartoon character, Steve's face melts into one of pure infatuation. Mouth lilting. His posture slouching. Eyes going soft against the extreme red of his face.

"Do that again," Steve whispers.

Eddie obliges. And he obliges. And he keeps obliging until they're under a cool top sheet, skin slick with sweat and eyes piercing one another's mouths.

That's when, in the silent air of Eddie's tiny bedroom, Steve admits the greatest thing in the world. "I don't really process when people are talking unless I'm looking at their mouth. I have to read their lips. I didn't—I wasn't trying to kiss you at first, but—" And the motherfucker giggles. "If that's all it took..." Then he's kissing Eddie again. Like it's the last thing he'll ever get to do. And Eddie thinks, If I die from running out of breath doing this, then I've done everything in my life correctly.

So, sure, Steve has a huge staring problem. And he doesn't really listen. And it's something he'll never fix, even if there's a way to.

But he finds that his technique—the thing he's crafted since he was a little boy—no longer works. At least, not on Eddie. Because suddenly, looking at his gorgeous pink lips makes Steve only able to think about one thing: Kissing. And he can't follow along unless he fulfills that want.

Eddie could be in the middle of a deep, all inclusive description of his recent trap in the campaign he's crafting. He could be singing. He could be complaining about some movie he rented. But that doesn't matter. Because he stops talking the moment Steve leans in and kisses him. Kisses like he needs it to live.

And though he rolls his eyes. Huffs a breath. Smirks and barrels on. There's that giddiness, that love pooling in Eddie' heart. Just knowing the effect he has on Steve. And the way he's affected, too, when Steve just whispers, "Sorry, I got lost again. Start over?"

He obliges. And he keeps obliging. And his lips are usually swollen by the time he's finally done rambling.

Steve stares. Eddie talks. And it's the combination of a lifetime.

--------

❤️

[clockwayswrites]

Masked Tidbit: A Threat

“Sorry to intrude,” Clark said politely. They weren’t the bashful words of a Midwest raised man though, this was Superman speaking through and through. There was an undercurrent of worry under those words.

Bruce and Diana looked about ready for war.

Dick stood to face the trio and, while obviously confused about what was going on, the rest of the Titans followed suit. Phantom stayed floating in the air, but sat upright.

“There’s been a threat made against Phantom,” B said, direct to the point as always.

“Phantom?” Gar asked incredulously.

They thought that Phantom could hardly be hurt. Dick knew better. Dick had seen Phantom bleed red. His hands had been coated in that blood. He took an unconscious half step in front of Phantom, as if somehow he could protect the other from the danger; a danger that Dick didn’t even know yet.

Bruce’s eyes tracked the movement. Dick couldn’t see Bruce’s eyes behind the lenses of the cowl, of course, but he knew.

Bruce hadn’t agreed about letting such a complete unknown as Phantom join the Titans, but this was Dick’s team, not his, so he really didn’t have a say in it. Still, it had been a near argument and a long lecture on accountability. It was a little cute how much Bruce worried, and how bad he was as showing it in a normal way. By this point Phantom might still be almost as much of an unknown, but there was no denying that he had proved his metal and loyalty a hundred times over. Dick thought that Bruce had even come to appreciate Phantom’s presence on the team.

And he had honored Dick’s order not to look into Phantom.

Or Dick thought he had. This brought up a lot of questions.

“Bruce Wayne was approached in Gotham,” B explained, as if sensing Dick’s question and potential anger.

“By who?” Dick asked since it seemed Phantom wasn’t going to. He always tried to have as little interaction with the Justice League as possible.

“Doctors Jackson and Madison Fenton.”

Phantom’s feet hit the floor. “Oh. That’s… you don’t have to worry about them.”

“They seemed rather assured that they could hurt you,” Diana said, her tone both soothing and commanding in that way she had.

With how close they were standing together, Dick could feel the motion as Phantom shrugged. “I mean, yeah, they can. But they’ve never managed to that seriously.”

Dick twisted enough to send a pointed look at Phantom. “What do you call not that seriously?”

Gashes weren’t serious, barely being able to stand wasn’t serious, broken ribs and bed rest wasn’t serious; Dick didn’t really trust Phantom in this.

“I mean, I’m still—” Phantom paused with a frown before continuing oddly. “I’m still around.”

What ever that pause was about made Bruce twitch which was very concerning.

“They want to rip you apart molecule by molecule,” Bruce growled.

Gar made a wounded sounding noise at that and Cyborg outright flinched.

“And that’s not an exaggeration,” Clark said, arms crossed. “That’s a direct quote.”

Clark must have been there as, well, Clark. Dick ran through everything that had been going on in Gotham that might have Clark there. It was better than letting himself dwell on those words. Two charity events. There was some sort of conference, Tim had talked about going to look for tech…

Phantom leaned forward just slightly and Dick naturally leaned back.

“Yeah, that’s just how they are about me. They’ve never captured me, at least not long enough to actually do that. They’re mostly just talk.”

“Son,” Clark said seriously. Phantom almost jerked at the word; Dick pressed more firmly back against him. “If they’re able to hurt you, then that is not just talk.”

“They’re just misguided,” Phantom almost pleaded.

“A misguided rogue is still a rogue,” B insisted with the certainty of a man who dealt with that constantly. He might as well fired a shot for how Phantom flinched and moved further behind Dick. Of course B noticed. “We’ll continue this in a conference room.”

Phantom’s “N’s coming with” overlapped with Dick’s own “I’m coming too.”

B rearguard them for a long, still moment before he nodded and swept off with a sweep of his cape.

Dick couldn’t do anything but follow.

---

AN: You didn't think the Fentons would let go of Phantom being a hero that easily, right? And before there's any doubt, B is 100% trying to protect Phantom here and aware (maybe even more than Dick) how important Phantom is to his son.

You can find the other parts and ao3 link for the first chapter here.

[luvz-me]

being at the last year of your sports medicine university course abroad in america was like a dream come true. but in all honesty you just wanted it to be over and quick. the prospect of having to intern at a random clinic for three months wasn't appealing at all. you made sure to send your cv to different physiotherapy clinics, gyms, sports clubs but still no answer.

watching all your colleagues start earlier than you was discouraging until one afternoon, after watching 2 boring movies a guy at a club told you to watch last night you got a call.

someone with a very poised voice starts talking almost immediately, "good afternoon, i'm speaking on behalf of the sports clinic and i was wondering if you'd be available for an interview tomorrow morning regarding your internship application?"

you almost envied the way there wasn't any hint of nervousness in their voice. it was almost immediate the way you accepted the offer, in all honesty you just wanted to get it over with.

you started your internship there after almost a week until one day, by the evening you witnessed something you never thought you would. tashi fucking duncan walking in the clinic right as you were about to leave. you felt your stomach turn, not in the bad way, but in the - what the fuck, did i hit my head somewhere and wake up in an alternate universe? - way. your anxiety making you want to throw up seeing one of the people you wrote countless essays about stand before you.

"i'm looking to book a sports physician. medium term for art donaldson, need them to be able to come in-house monday through friday." you heard her say to the receptionist, blunt yet always polite. one of your idols standing just a few meters away from you made you weak at the knees. you were aware the clinic was well frequented but you never thought she'd be in your sight ever.

you looked at your nails, pondering if you should start biting them, regaining a bad habit just because you found yourself in a situation you couldn't control sounds very much like you but tashi probably would think that's gross so you stop.

a client you had been assigned to arrives and you curse yourself out for not being able to keep listening to the conversation anymore. the day never ended. each glance you took at the clock just seemed like you were stopped in time. sighing while helping the elder woman stretch her upper body and muttering some words of praise, explaining to her that she'd have to keep coming for at least one more week so the pain could dissipate. you flashed her a smile as she got up and said goodbye, thanking you endlessly for helping her ease the pain.

your supervisor had been watching you. giving some criticism on this session with the client. as you were about to leave she pulled you aside and informed you that starting tomorrow you'd be going to tashi duncans house.

everything inside was pristine, you were even scared to even lean against the furniture in fear you'd somehow break it. tashi had given you a quick house tour, her heels clacking on the hardwood floors as she warmed you up to her, occasionally telling jokes about herself and saying you reminded her of herself. when she was in college. you didn't really know what that meant but you decided to take it as a compliment, nervously fidgeting your fingers. art was nowhere to be seen up until you reached the gym area.

standing there, broad shoulders scrolling through his phone, distracted and flashing a smile towards his wife once she clears her throat and wraps an arm around his shoulder. introducing you to each other and leaving promptly, saying she had a meeting with her pr team and that she'd be back at 8 pm.

you swallow dry. standing there awkwardly with your backpack on your shoulders.

"so.. umm were gonna start with wall angels maybe. tashi told me thats your problem area right now" you blurted out, trying to sound as professional as possible "just. place your arms against the wall in a 90 degree angle and slowly straighten them"

art follows suit, standing against the wall awkwardly moving his arms up and down before asking "how old are you?" breaking the silence

"i'm 21" you mutter in surprise analysing his form and his toned shoulders, and arms.. and muscles. eyes narrowing trying to remind yourself that this is not one of your hookups, this is art fucking donaldson and you're here for an internship. at his house. in his fancy home gym. hes not yours to admire. "why?"

"ah.. just wanted to know" art shrugs, looking at you intently. he gets up suddenly, yet his movements are deliberate. you feel the knot tighten in your stomach, your pulse quicken as i looked at the man before me. "can you show me how to do it properly?" his voice drops to a lower tone and all you can do for a few seconds is flutter your lashes at him

"but this is pretty easy already, i don't know how to ex-"

"i said, i want you to show me" art cuts you off, his gaze literally burning through your skull

art mirrors your movements, his eyes never leaving yours. you hope he doesn't notice the slight tremble in your hands.

"like this?" he asks, his voice even softer now, almost a whisper.

you nod, your breath hitching. "yes, just like that. make sure to keep your back flat against the wall."

he follows your instructions, his body inching closer. you can feel the heat emanating from him, a stark contrast to the cool, clinical setting of the gym. there's a tension in the air, a charged silence that makes your heart race.

"you're good at this," he murmurs, his eyes darkening with an emotion you can't quite place

your cheeks flush, the compliment catching you off guard. "i appreciate that, mr. donaldson."

he moves closer, his body now just inches from yours. you can feel the magnetism between you, a pull that's impossible to ignore. his hand reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. the gesture is tender, almost too intimate for your professional setting. "it's art, yeah? call me art, i don't want to feel like an old fart" he grins

"i should… i should check your shoulder alignment," you stammer, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. "you're a bit tight here," you say, your voice trembling slightly. "let me help you."

you guide him through a series of stretches, your hands lingering a bit longer than necessary on his shoulders, his back. the room feels smaller, the air thicker with each passing moment.

the session was over. finally. you gathered your things and slid your backpack over your shoulders. art's gaze is still on you and it's impossible not to feel it "are you in a hurry to leave?"

"umm, no i just. no im not in a hurry" you smile "just don't want to bother you anymore" your breath catches in your throat

"i was hoping we could talk a bit more. get to know each other better." he smirks. what the fuck "tashi told me some things about you but i think one on one conversation is far better" grabbing your hand and guiding you to a small resting area at the gym engaging in some superficial conversation about you while tracing circles in the back of your hand. you can't help but sigh. his hands becoming more and more pervasive, touching your thighs, reaching up up up until he's close to your crotch. a slight whine escapes your mouth. you're not focusing on the conversation at all.

"art, this is not-"

"tashi doesn't have to know" he replies knowing tashi knows damn well. hell, she even planned this for him. it wasn't her intention to scout a pretty little physiotherapist like you at first. but you were at the right place, at the right time. the moment she took a glance at you she knew she had to have you. it was a plus art needed help with his shoulders. his hands roaming on the waistband of your tight leggings, your mouth parting with a sigh. sigh that he takes as opportunity to crash his lips against yours. your eyes narrow at first and for a second you try to pull back but you don't really want to.

his fingers edging closer to your panties, the tightness of the leggings increasing the skin on skin contact. "aw you look so pretty with your lips parted. you wanna take my fingers in you don't you huh?" now hovering over you, caressing you over your top "fucking corrupt that little head of yours"

you can't help but let out a moan that sends him over the edge. sliding your leggings down caressing you over your panties. before pushing two fingers inside your mouth for you to suck. "you want this don't you baby?"

"mhm" you nod trying your hardest not to bite him when he uses his opposite hand to caress your sensitive nub. furrowing your eyebrows trying your hardest not to grab his arm. his calloused fingers leaving your plump mouth suddenly and making a 'pop' sound "but tashi might" cut off by the pads of his fingers circling your clit

"tashi doesn't mind" his voice hungry "im just helping you out yeah? we're just getting acquainted" one of his fingers teases your entrance slowly entering earning a sharp wince from you. the unfamiliar feeling slowly turning into pleasure as he slid it in and out "open your eyes f'me, let me see those pretty eyes"

you bite your lip staring at his face as he does such a lewd thing to you, and you let him. knowing he has a wife. somehow this made it even more arousing. whats wrong with you? "gonna add one more finger, fuck you're so tight around me, so good. i bet that clit would feel so good around my tongue" small tears cornering around your eyes. the soft noises leaving your lips only encouraging him to keep going.

"feels good huh baby?" he coos, his face edging closer and closer to your clit as your hips rise, only to stop once you're about to cum. abruptly sliding your panties back up along with your leggings.

this earns him a well deserved mewl. edging you like this. stopping when you were just so so close was just so mean of him. looking up at him just to see him lick your juices off his fingers, feeding them to you. "suck" he commands "don't be mad, i just need to make sure you come back for more sessions" fixing your hair and picking up your backpack from where you left it on the gym floor

[medicinemane]

Piece of advice is to always thank people for bring you bad news, so long as it's bad news you need to know to do something about it

Like that's really the only context I can think of bringing bad news in, so like... feel free to ignore if they're somehow just being spiteful with it, but like if they're coming to you like "yeah, you bed turned to goop while you were out and you need to get a new one", yeah that's not the sort of thing you want to hear but you probably need to know about it so you can fix it

The reason to thank them is so that you don't accidentally take your frustration over the bad news out on them, cause if you do that you won't get bad news and that means you won't be able to make accurate decisions when you're missing key info

Always gotta reward the behavior you want people to do if you want it to keep happening

[daenysx]

omg just read all of your aemond fics and 😭😭😭 actual perfection !!!! thank you for sharing your writing!!

not sure if this is a type of request that would interest you but maybe modern!aemond finding out you somehow got injured? not a creative prompt but we love a protective/possibly overreacting aemond with some fluff hehe 💙

thank you so much for reading them, angel, i really hope you like this <333

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

cw; stitches, reader cuts her hand and needs stitches but nothing graphic

it was a nice plan overall, really. you were sure everything would go alright, imagining the perfect outcome as you keep moving in kitchen.

well, until you had a work accident anyway.

"can i call my boyfriend real quick before you start?" you ask the doctor as you sit down, your injured hand feeling numb with all the adrenaline.

"of course." she answers. "we can start after."

you take your phone, press aemond's contact, and beg internally for him to be available. you don't think you can get your hand stitched without him honestly and the idea of him being in a meeting right now makes your stomach turn.

"hello?" he answers. "sweetheart?"

"hi." you say, your voice coming out weaker than you intend to. "is this a good time?"

"of course." he says. "what happened? something wrong?"

he's picking up the clues quickly, first of all why do you sound like that? and second why is he hearing some weird noises on the background?

"um- i'm at a hospital right now." you say, biting your bottom lip, telling him the name of the hospital after that. you need to lay out the details nice and slow, otherwise he'll drive like crazy to be here. "i was cooking dinner and i cut my hand."

"are you okay?" he asks, concern dripping from his voice. "what will they do?"

"the doctor's saying i need stitches." you explain. "i'm okay, i just- can you come here if there's nothing important you have over there?"

you hear some noises like a pushed chair and grabbed keys, aemond suddenly starts breathing quicker. "you are crazy if you think i'll work when you're literally getting stitches." he says. "i'll be there in ten minutes, okay?"

"aemond, please drive safe." you say, because it should normally take at least 15 minutes to get here from his office. you know he won't listen, he tends to be very irresponsible of himself every time you call him and tell him you need him.

"don't worry about me." he tries to reassure you and you hear him starting the car. "only ten minutes, okay, sweetheart? i'll be with you."

"okay." you say.

he keeps his promise really well, and only after ten and a half minutes you see him walking with huge steps towards you. not that you were counting down the seconds. the doctor is a lovely lady, she tries to keep your mind occupied as she cleans up your wound.

"it's a deep cut, but it's clean." she says. "i'll make sure you don't feel anything."

"thank you." you smile weakly. "oh, here he is."

aemond is by your side in a second, his eye quickly inspecting the situation. "are you okay? are you hurting?"

you shake your head. the doctor smiles. "i don't really feel anything right now." you say. "it was just a bit bad when i first came in."

"and the stitches?" he asks, looking at the doctor.

"she will need only a few of them." she answers. "don't worry, we'll make it quick and painless."

she starts doing her job, asks you politely to look elsewhere. aemond holds your other hand as you watch him, it's a bit weird knowing you're being stitched but not feeling it. the worry lines on aemond's face look ever most prominent.

"i'm fine." you give him an easy smile.

"how did it happen?" he asks, softly.

"i was planning on preparing a dinner table." you say. "we've been relied on take out lately, so i wanted to cook you something nice."

"baby." he says, his voice carries too many emotions.

"it's okay." you tell him. "it can happen to anyone, really. i won't even get upset if i have a scar. just another story to tell."

"it may leave a faint scar in time." the doctor says. "but nothing too big."

"that's good enough."

aemond clearly thinks that is not good enough but he won't tell this when you're getting your hand stitched. he only squeezes your fingers. he'll make sure you don't touch knives until you heal, that's all.

"and we're done." the doctor says. "let's wrap it up, and then you can go."

"thank you." you and aemond say at the same time. the wrapping doesn't take long, you're ready to leave the hospital in five minutes.

after the doctor telling aemond instructions about the bandages and the stitches, you walk to the exit. you're glad it's over for now, and your hand still doesn't hurt really. aemond waits by your side until you settle down on the passenger seat.

you expect him to close the door and sit down on his own seat but he doesn't. instead, he turns you to his side by holding your thighs gently and cups your cheeks. he gives you the warmest kiss on your forehead.

"i was terrified." he confesses, almost whispers.

"i'm sorry." you say. "it was an accident."

"i know, my love." he says, putting another kiss on the side of your head. "you don't have to say sorry, it's not like you did it on purpose."

"and now we need to order something again." you say, giving him a mocking pout. "i wanted to eat something homemade tonight."

he smiles at your dramatics. you're right of course, you've both been too busy with work lately and relied on ordering pizza or sushi, or something else. he thinks cooking together can be nice now that he left work early and you want something cooked in your own kitchen.

"i'll cook anything you want for us." he says. it's a good promise.

"you sound pretty confident." you laugh.

"you need to help me with the recipes, of course." he says, coolly. "anything with knife, i'll do it. you can only do harmless things if you want to participate."

you pull him to yourself to give him a kiss. he immediately surrenders, any teasing words he has in mind is gone with your lips on his.

you think he'll look really good wearing an apron.

[mint-8]

Platonic Yandere Priest x Child! GN! Reader

Content/Trigger warning: Mentions of death, violence, religion, and implied miscarriages. Also, please read as completely platonic.

- Yandere Priest who is devoted to their religion. They lead their believers with a firm, yet gentle hand towards a better life. Organizing community projects to strengthen the bond between the residents, giving inspiring and passionate lectures in every single one of their sermons, guiding from the youngest of youths to the aging elders through a path of righteousness (at least, what they have been taught as ‘righteous’), and holding banquets and festivals to help the less fortunate are but one of their few notable accomplishments through their time as the local priest, working and maintaining influence and a bit of authority in between the local business owners and police force. They have dedicated their lives to the prosperity of their flock and wouldn’t have it any other way. Yet, there is something missing…

- Yandere Priest has always wished for a child of their own. Regardless of the holy scriptures that have dictated, practically their entire life, they never really were too fond of the idea of engaging in a romantic, nor sexual, relationship with others, or anyone really. Perhaps it was due to their devotion to their faith that always kept them occupied, or they were simply born without a particular need or desire for such urges, regardless of the reason, they still crave a close connection with someone. Preferably someone who they can use all of their educational knowledge and life experience on, to provide them with and guiding them into a better, fulfilling life. They have tried to adopt before, but no matter what they did, they were never accepted as a possible parent candidate. With such disappointment, and with the passing of the years, they gave up on the search for such a pupil to follow on their steps, and simply continued to focus on their growing community of loyal followers. Maybe if they were gifted with a second chance at life, they would be able to fill the hole in their heart.

- Yandere Priest who can’t help but notice that a new family has joined their town. It’s not uncommon to see new people come and go, especially when some of the young adults come back to settle down with their families after experiencing the busier city life and preferring to embrace their more rural roots. They were hoping for the new family to be pleasant and kind, already preparing a basket of local fruits and sweets to welcome them to the community, and to offer them an invitation to the weekend sermon. They wouldn’t dare to be too forceful though, they’ve learned their lesson from their previous teacher who had the inept belief of forcing newcomers into their religion would surely increase the church’s congregation (they are very happy they were able to ‘talk some sense’ into them).

- Yandere Priest who happily chats with the happy couple when they go to visit them and even offer their help with the moving, who amidst the conversation catch a glimpse of a tiny child, you. They can’t help but find you adorable as you shyly clutch your parent leg while peeking at them from behind. Your parents enthusiastically introduce you to them, of course, and explain that you aren’t very fond of strangers. However Yandere Priest doesn’t mind such display of nervousness, as they simply kneel with one leg while warmly smiling at you and introducing themselves.

“Pleasure to meet you, little one. I’m the local priest in this town”

“… Hi…”

“There’s no need to be afraid, young one. For I promise I wouldn’t dare to harm a single hair in your head”

“…”

- Yandere Priest realizes that they went a bit too far with the presentation, and politely excuses themselves from the talk, with your parents bidding them farewells and promising to assist to the weekend sermon. As they walk away and greet the rest of the neighbors, they can’t help but think about the new family, possible new additions to the congregation, and… you. You are an adorable, shy little thing, probably terribly scared from the new change of scenery and pretty much uprooting of your previous life into a completely new setting that, most likely, you’ve never heard off before. Their community is a tad far away from the major cities, so they wouldn’t be too surprised if you’ve ever only heard about your new home from memories from one of your parents.

- Yandere Priest who promises that they will be your guiding light into this new chapter of your life, whether you like it or not. Oh! Don’t worry too much about it! They have plenty of experience in subtly manipulating and getting their way by talking and stroking some egos. How did you think they were able to maintain their church and themselves with a high influence and status around the town? However they won’t take it too far, cutesy children like you only deserve the kindest, gentlest treatment ever, and they swear to their lord they will become your personal confidante and friend! They just need a few talks with you… =)

- Yandere Priest who is pleased to know that your parents fulfill their promise when they see you in their sermon. Your parents are actively socializing with the rest of the churchgoers (presumably to build some connections) and, just like when they first met you, you are shyly hiding behind your parent’s back, refusing to talk with the other children or adults. They understand your fear, it was difficult for them as well when they were first brought to the town when they were younger, their then teacher still forced them to toughen it up and interact with the townsfolk, but they are glad your parents won’t force you to interact with others if you do not wish to. They are so happy that they have something to bond over with you that they almost forgot to start their lecture on time!

- Yandere Priest whose lecture’s mainly focus on the struggle of the self when in a new and unknown situation. How the future might seen bleak or full of uncertainties, but how one can find solace within the support of those around them, accompanied by the desire of improving every day over the failures of the past. This, of course, being mostly centered around comforting and giving you hope in the face of the new life events you’ve suddenly been throw into, especially with the added knowledge that you can totally rely on them at any time, you know? Why, how could they dare to leave a lonely lamb alone among their new brethren? It’s their duty as the pastor to guide you to a more bright future.

- Yandere Priest who convinces your parents to sign you up to their weekly religion classes, which have existed since the very beginning and totally were not created on the spot as soon as the mass ended in order to get closer to you! They simply wish to help you grow into a more sensible and responsable person, and what better way than to learning about god and how important religion is? Yeah, Yandere Priest is so glad that your parents are very gullible and easy to sway with words alone, but they are more worried about you possibly inheriting such qualities and making you an easy target for con artists! It simply solidifies their ideal of nurturing you into a mature, capable adult, so as to not fuck your own life up!

- Yandere Priest who spends every week, plus some weekends whenever your parents are out on a date, simply getting to know you. They love hearing you talk about your interests, hobbies, favorite animals, favorite colors, foods, clothes, toys, and… pretty much anything you might or might not have an opinion on! They answer each and every one of your questions about their life, the town, their religion and the world with such calmness and eagerness to teach you, that you instinctively go to them whenever you have a doubt or question! They actively immerse you into the life of the town, either by helping or participating on the multiple events or projects they or the rest of the townsfolk cook up. They wish for you to have a vast and colorful upbringing, allowing you to interact safely with everyone in the community and broadening your horizons with each passing day.

- Yandere Priest who, outside of including you into any social event on the town, also enjoys small, quiet activities. From playing board games to simply reading books, any sort of bonding activity they or you can think of, they are more than happy to participate on. They just love you so much. They just want to crush your legs and make you a paraplegic so you can only rely on them for support! Oh, was that too extreme? No need to worry, that’s merely a fantasy, they would never act on such urges! Well, I mean, that could’ve been plan B if you happened to resist their efforts into getting to know you better from the very beginning. And about your parents? Do you remember how they have some authority over local police and the business owners? It wouldn’t be too hard to find some dirt on your parent’s past or to ask the landlord to raise rent or for the bank to mess up some of their finances… but like I said, they wouldn’t ever dare to do such a thing! Well, only if it was their last resort and your parents were… less than neighborly neighbors… Glad that isn’t the case, don’t you agree?

- Yandere Priest who will assert themselves as a stable support in your life against your will (not like you were willing to fight them, right?), especially when your parents ‘mysteriously’ go missing and are later found near the river as if a bear had mauled at them! They will also be there when, out of nowhere, loan sharks appear and start to demand compensation over some ‘gambling debts’ that your parent’s had ran away from years ago! But especially you will need them when you find the totally real letters and diary entries from your parents to the rest of your extended family about how they wished you were born dead or simply disappeared from their lives!

- Yandere Priest will always be there for you, even when everyone has left you. They will be your new guardian, so they can protect you from the corrupt foster care system of the country. They will become your teacher, trusted friend and loving parental figure so you’ll grow dependent on them for emotional support. They will make sure you love their hometown and consider it as your only place of residence from now on. Oh, how delighted they will be when you eventually succeed them as the new priest when they grow old and frail. But they know you’ll take care of them when such times come, and they know they will continue to protect you even in such a weakened state. It’s a promise, little angel =)

“I must give thanks to the lord for bringing me such a perfect child, whose kindness and beauty are akin to an angel, and who I’ll dutifully watch over for as long as my heart is able to beat. I’ll love you more than anything, my dear sunshine, so let’s finish today’s lessons, ok? =)”

[animationmovieshipps]

Drunk Confessions (Opla Luffy X Reader)

"Hey, sweetie, can you get us another bottle?" Sanji asked, before spontaneously laughing again.

"Why me?" You asked pointing to yourself, even though you already knew the answer of that question.

"Because you're probably the only one here who can get to the kitchen without getting lost on the way." Usopp replied, before lowering his glasses and looking directly at Zoro, who gave him the middle finger after taking another sip from the cup.

They couldn't blame you for not wanting to drink so much that you weren't sober anymore, the last time it happened they said that when they took their eye off you for a second, a stranger almost took you away. They said that Luffy beat the man so badly that he had to be hospitalized.

Besides, you didn't like being hungover the next day.

"Okay, I go." You laughed and got up to go to the kitchen, but stopped suddenly when you felt one of them grab your hand.

You turned around and didn't know what to say when you saw it was Luffy. He didn't usually drink, but that night he decided to do something different.

"Don't stay there too long, okay? Or I'm going to miss you a lot." He said. "Do you promise you won't be long?"

You couldn't help but smile, he was even cuter when he was drunk, if that was possible.

"Okay, I promise I won't be long." You said, only after that he let go of your hand and let you go.

You went to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of whiskey and returned to them, who welcomed you with a round of applause.

You smiled and shook your head, placing the bottle on the table before sitting back in your seat. As soon as you did, Luffy rested his head on your shoulder.

"Hey, I think I want to go to sleep now." He said. "Can you take me to the room, p-p-p...?"

You chuckled, seeing that he couldn't say 'please'.

"Please?" You said.

"That's it, that was the word."

"What a polite young man." You joked, taking his hand and lifting him from the chair.

"Try not to throw him into the sea." Zoro shouted, as you threw him over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried him away to the room. Your daily workout with him was good for something.

With the greatest care in the world, you placed him on the bed and took off his shoes, briefly tickling his feet so you could hear his lovely laugh one more time.

"Wait, w-where's my hat?" He asked, when he ran his hand over his head and saw that the hat wasn't there.

"It's right next to you, don't worry." You assured him.

He reached to the side and felt for the bed, sighing in relief when he touched the hat and felt its familiar texture.

"Oh. It's here." He laughed.

You smiled, looking at him tenderly. If he only knew how you felt.

"Well, sleep well, captain..."

"No! Don't leave now!" He asked desperately when he saw you getting up of his bed.

You were confused as to what else he wanted with you, but you sat on the edge of the bed again.

"What is it now?" You asked.

Luffy made an effort and sat down on the bed again, although his head seemed to be spinning.

"I have to tell you something very important." He said in a serious tone of voice.

"You know you can tell me anything." You assured him.

"I just wanted to say that I love you." He said, leaving you surprised to say the least. You knew he loved dearly everyone on the crew, but he never said with words. "And it's not that little, I love you that much." He gestured to explain what he was saying.

"... That's great, I love you too..." You said back.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no..."

"Have you said all the 'no's' you had?" You joked, interrupting him.

"Almost, no, no, no." He continued. "I don't love you like that, I LOVE you, I want to marry you and be the father of your children."

You were surprised again, until that moment you thought he only saw you as an older sister, like he also saw Nami.

You had no idea if he was telling the truth or just messing with you, but you knew that people when under the influence of alcohol said whatever came to mind.

You decided to talk to him about it the next day, when he was sober again.

You got up to leave the room for good, but before you did, he grabbed your hand again, this time he pulled you sharply and you fell on top of him.

You no longer had a chance to escape when your eyes met his, you found yourself lost in the light of his gaze.

Somehow, you had to get out of there, or you were going to do something you would regret. You would never take advantage of him, but you also didn't trust that you wouldn't give in to temptation.

"Don't go away..." He murmured in pleading, sliding the tip of his nose along your cheek.

Him not kissing you when your lips were so close to each other made you even more distressed than if he had already kissed you.

"Stop it, come on, we can't do this with you looking like this." You tried to argue, trying to get away from him, but you couldn't. Your reason was constantly fighting against your emotion at that moment.

He ignored you, this time trailing a path of kisses to your lips and finally kissed you.

You were strong, refusing to move your lips. But you couldn't hold it for much more time, you had wanted to kiss him for so long.

The next thing you knew, you were sitting on his lap, looking like you were going to suck his soul through his mouth while your hands roamed his body under his shirt.

His lips felt so soft against yours, when the kiss deepened you surprisingly felt a sweet taste, when you thought it would taste like rum.

Not long after, when you felt his hands undo the buttons on the back of your shirt, you came to your senses again and got off him.

"No, no, I can't let that happen, I would never forgive myself." You said between heavy breaths, still feeling the adrenaline and your body burning up.

"Awww just when things were getting better." Luffy lamented pouting. "Come on..."

"No, I'm not going to do anything while you're drunk." You insisted firmly, bringing your hands to your back and buttoning the buttons on your shirt again. "Now go to sleep, wasn't it what you wanted?"

"As you wish then." He reluctantly agreed, regretting drinking that night. "Can you at least sleep here with me tonight?"

You considered that idea, but soon imagined it was an excuse for him to try to seduce you again.

"... You're not going to try anything again, are you?" You asked.

"No, I just don't want to be away from you." He replied, before laying down on the bed again.

You smiled. That was sweet, but you still weren't completely sure of his intentions.

"You promise?"

"Fine, I promise." He said.

You took a deep breath and lay down next to him, deciding to trust his word. Luffy quickly wrapped his arms around you and threw one of his legs over your body.

As much as it seemed, you didn't feel uncomfortable, his entire body was soft.

You hugged him back and fell asleep at the same time as him, with a happy smile on your lips.

As soon as he opened his eyes, he had to close them again, when the sunlight that came through the bedroom window seemed to intensify the headache he was feeling even more.

He remembered almost nothing from the night before, just that he drank a lot and you had slept next to him.

"Is it a hangover?" Zoro asked, hearing the captain's grunts of pain.

"What do you think?" Luffy retorted.

"Over time you get used to it." Usopp laughed.

"Good morning." You hummed as you entered the room, a mug of hot coffee in your hands.

"Zoro, do you remember that thing you wanted to show me?" Usopp asked, obviously an excuse so Luffy and you could talk alone.

Zoro didn't remember anything of what he was saying, but he left the room with the shooter anyway.

"What is that?" He asked when he noticed the cup in your hands.

"It's for you." You replied, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing him the mug.

He usually preferred milk, but since you brought him that coffee, he wasn't going to deny it.

You couldn't help but laugh when you saw him grimace as he took a sip of the drink.

"Why is this without sugar?" Luffy asked.

"Good coffee to cure a hangover is without sugar." You answered. "Now drink it all to make yourself feel better."

He took another sip, trying his best to avoid tasting it.

Seeing that this was the opportunity to talk to him about what happened the night before, you didn't hesitate.

"Hey, last night..."

"What happened last night?" He asked, interrupting you. "Did I do something stupid to you while I was drunk?"

"Luffy..."

"If that's what happened, my bad, I'm still not very used to it and..."

"Luffy!" You said, briefly covering his mouth with your hand. "You said you loved me and wanted to marry me."

His expression changed suddenly when you said that, not believing that after so long keeping what he felt for you to himself, he slipped up.

"Look, I have a very good explanation for this, let me just..." He tried to explain himself and failed miserably.

You just laughed and leaned over, giving him a kiss on the cheek that made him shut up.

"You don't need to say anything." You said, intertwining your hand with his. "I love you too."

Luffy looked at your interwined hands and then looked at you again, smiling as he assimilated what you said.

He didn't need to say a word, the look in his eyes was worth a thousand words.

[stairain]

Mommy's Boyfriend.

While dropping off your son at school, the last thing you expect is your ex-boyfriend Mr.Reid to be his teacher.

Warnings: Soft Dom Spencer, Mother reader, Your child is unnamed don't think too much about it, make-up sex, cunnilingus, begging, gentle-ish sex, doggy style, light choking, cream pie, he loves you too much. 

WC: 7.1K 

It was the first day of school, and you were dropping your son off, walking through the hallway and holding the little boy's hand. As you passed through various rooms, you smiled at passing teachers and students. When you finally make it to your son's classroom, you kneel down and kiss his forehead before saying a few encouraging words to him, patting his back before urging him into the room.

"I'll see you in a few hours, love.."

You say to him as he walks away from you. When you stand up, you're not at all expecting Spencer to be standing there behind you. The two of you had broken up just before summer started, and although you knew he was a teacher, you were really hoping you didn't see him today.

What are the chances he’s your son's teacher? Apparently very high ones.

You give him a forced polite smile before trying to walk away from him as quickly as you could.

As Spencer watches you go, he’s hit with a wave of shame, guilt, and disgust. He should never have let things end the way he had. He should’ve tried to fix things but, instead, he had just given up. It was something he would never forgive himself for. He decides that he’s not going to let you go without at least knowing that he regrets his actions. He walks after you.

"Hey."

You hear him, and the clicking of your heels against the floor speeds up as you try to get away from him as fast as possible.

"Wait.." He says in a calm, firm, serious voice with a hint of a pleading tone. He picks up his pace and is quickly closing the distance between you two. When he moves closer to you, he reaches a hand out to plant on your shoulder, trying to stop you. 

When you shrug off his hand, he purses his lips and quickly runs in front of you, so you're forced to stop. You blink at the quick movement and look up at him with eyes full of undercover malice. Pushing your tongue into your cheek in annoyance, you quietly snap at him, so as to not attract a crowd.

"Can I help you?"

Spencer looks at you with eyes that are full of regret, sadness, shame, and longing. He takes a small step closer to you. You can see that he’s upset, but most of the emotions he is feeling are negative ones directed at himself. He looks like he wants to hug you and cry at the same time, but he is restraining himself, far too scared to make you even angrier at him. Even in all of his sadness and regret there is still a little bit of love in his eyes, and it looks like he’s about to cry.

You bite your lips as the look in his eyes still never ceases to make you melt. With a small shake of your head, you speak.

"Listen, it's been great seeing you, but I just came to drop off my kid, alright?" You push past him and start walking towards the front doors, not wanting to be around him any longer than you already have.

Spencer reaches out and grabs your wrist before you can make it to the door. He looks at you with pleading eyes, still full of the same negative self-loathing emotions, but there’s a glint of hope and love in them.

"Wait–please." He says, his tone now urgent. "I just need two minutes of your time; to explain."

You take a deep breath and look down at your watch before you look back at him. "Don't you have a job to do?"

Spencer takes a deep breath and his eyes narrow before his expression softens again. "Yes, I do," he says.

"But, I'll go to work every day for the rest of my life. Please, just two minutes of your time." He looks desperate and pleading but, if you refuse again, he seems like he’ll let you go.

It hurts you to admit it, but his words make your heart swell. If there was one thing he was always good at doing, it was putting you first. But ironically, that's what got the two of you here in the first place. With wavering eyes, you look around before sighing, and agreeing.

"Two minutes." 

A huge wave of relief washes over Spencer and he can't help but smile a little bit. He walks you to a quiet place to talk. Once you are out of earshot of everyone around he looks at you with regretful eyes, and his voice begins to crack a bit.

"I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you and I am so sorry for the way I treated you. I was too caught up in my work and didn't give our relationship the attention it needed and I regret it every day. Please, forgive me."

You shake your head and look down at anywhere but him, because you know the second your gaze locks with those puppy-dog eyes you've always adored, all of your progress of "getting over him" in the past few months would go to waste in a heartbeat.

"I-I don't know, Spence.."

You hadn't even noticed the way you referred to him as his nickname you always used to call him, too caught up in your emotions to acknowledge it now.

"Please," His voice sounds desperate, like he might break down any moment now.

"I would do anything to fix what I have done. Please, just give me one more chance. I will never take you or our relationship for granted again. I love you."

As those last few words escape his lips his voice breaks and he looks like he might just get down on both knees and beg you. He looks completely ready and willing to show you, not just tell you, how sorry he is and that he can and will make things right.

Raising your chin a little to look at him through teary lashes, you run your thumb along your waterline. With a heavy sigh, you finally find the courage to look him in the eyes.

"You have a class to teach, Spencer. I'm sorry."

"I'll call in sick. I'd walk away from my job in an instant if it meant I got you back."

His voice is desperate as it breaks again and tears well up in his eyes.

"Please, love. Just give me a chance."

He looks heartbroken, and this is probably the most emotional, intense, and passionate he has ever been about his love for you and it's hard for you to resist. You’re sure you'll be making a mistake by saying no, but at the same time, you feel you’ll be making an even bigger mistake by saying yes.

You almost laugh at his words, but you stop yourself before you do. If you laughed in his face right now, you know he'd absolutely be crushed. With a sad smile, you sniff. 

"Don't do that, Spencer."

With one last look at your watch, you barely think about the next words that leave your mouth. You were just saying whatever he wanted to hear, you couldn't help it. Even after everything, you just wanted to please him.

"Listen, I- School ends at three, right? When I come to pick him up, we can talk more, okay?" 

Spencer is absolutely thrilled by how things just went. He fully expected you to just walk out on him, and he wouldn’t even blame you. He tries to hide the happiness on his face but he's unable to prevent himself from letting a small smile creep onto his lips. He nods his head in agreement.

"Three o'clock," He says in a calming, but still emotional, voice. "I'll be right here." He looks over you for a second before he turns and walks away, still clearly full of hope and optimism.

And you're left in the room by yourself and your thoughts as he walks out. You know this is a mistake, and you should've just ignored him and went on with your life, but it was too late now. In a battle with your heart and your head, you think you're going to let your heart win.

As the day passes, you're running errands and doing some work of your own, but your mind is somewhere else. 

It's only two thirty, you've got another half hour until you see him again, and you feel your nerves race through your body. As you sit in your car in silence, the sound of your heart pounding in your chest rings in your ears, and it taunts you.

You can't help but feel excited as you think about finally getting the chance to talk to him and try to work things out despite knowing full well that this is a bad idea. Part of you still wants to run, but the idea of having him in your life again feels like a dream come true and it’s hard to resist that kind of temptation when it is just within your grasp.

At three o'clock Spencer is waiting at the school, just as he promised, hoping you won't change your mind.

Taking a deep breath and shaking out your hands, you get out of the car and begin to walk towards the entrance of the school. All of the other children and parents were walking back to their own cars, and you remember then that your son had after-school sports, and he wouldn't be going home with you now.

At least it gave you and Spencer more time to speak. As you walk closer to him, the pounding of your pulse fills all of your senses, and you force a polite smile on your face.

As you approach him he smiles and hugs you. His arms are warm and comforting, and just having him hold you again makes you feel better. You can tell he is nervous too, you can see it in the way his eyes are darting around and how he keeps fidgeting his hands. You can also tell that he’s trying to keep his composure and has the same polite smile you do. He's trying to act like things are normal and like he isn't just dying of impatience for when you two can go somewhere to have a serious conversation.

With a small push to his chest, you break the hug with an awkward chuckle. His touch felt so nice, so comforting, but it was too much for you right now. You clear your throat as you stand in front of him with your arms behind your back and stutter as you speak.

When you push him away you can see a little bit of hurt in his eyes before it’s quickly replaced with understanding and patience. 

"I-I forgot that.. I forgot my son has soccer practice now.. So I don't have to pick him up for a few hours.." Your voice is wavering and sheepish, and you sound so unsure of yourself. The woman you were this morning, strong and unwilling to speak to the man in front of you was traded for a whole new persona, one that couldn't help but fumble under the gaze of Spencer.

"I see." He says in a calm, comforting tone, "Then, what would you like to do? Where would you like to talk?" As he speaks you can see him relax a little bit, but he is still filled with nervous energy, but it's clear that he’s trying to help you calm down.

And before you can stop yourself.

"We could go back to my place.."

When you say those words a huge smile makes its way across Spencer's face. He nods in agreement and takes your hand in his. You let him hold it.

"Your place, it is." As he speaks he leads you to his car and opens the passenger side door for you before getting into the driver's side himself. He turns to look at you to make sure you've gotten in safely and smiles again before turning forward to drive from the school to your house. As he drives, your thoughts race. You start thinking of all the ways this could go wrong, and they outweigh everything that could go right. 

It almost hurts your heart that he still remembers where you live, without a GPS or directions. It's like he never really forgot, how could he? It's all muscle memory to him.

As Spencer drives, a wave of nostalgia hits him hard. He can't help but remember all the sweet moments you have had at your place. He remembers the long nights, and the quiet mornings. He remembers the way you used to make him feel.

Then it hits him, these are the same feelings that made him make the huge, dumb mistake that got him in this situation in the first place. If he doesn't want to lose you again he’s going to have to do everything in his power to fix his mistakes and do everything he needs to do in order to make you happy.

Pulling into your driveway, you swallow before unbuckling yourself and stepping out of the car. You don't wait on him as you're walking up the pavement to your front door, pushing it open and walking inside.

Spencer gets out of the car and follows you inside, closing the door gently behind him. He walks over to you and looks at you with intense love and affection in his eyes. Before you can speak, he gives you a long, passionate kiss. For those few seconds he is able to forget everything and all he can think about is just how much he's missed you and how much he loves you. When he finally pulls away, you can see how hard he had to try to pull himself away in the first place, he missed the taste of your lips on his. 

"I love you.."

You gasp against his lips when he breaks the kiss, and the way your eyes widen almost rivals the moon. The nerve of him, you thought. But when his hands reach up to cradle your jaw, you can feel the anger fizzling into pathetic dust and you pull him in for another bruising kiss.

Spencer kisses you back passionately and his arms wrap all the way around your waist in the embrace. A wave of calm crashes over him as he holds you close to him because nothing feels better in the moment than being close to you again.

After a few minutes of kissing you he pulls back just a little bit to look at you and breathlessly speak.

"I missed you," he says, a little breathless, "So much."

Your eyes are full of passion and vexation towards him and you all but growl out your words. 

"Shut up and kiss me." Grabbing the collar of his dress shirt, you deal another violent kiss to him.

"Yes, ma'am."

Is all he can say as he moves in again. He had to pry your mouth away from him for air, and he leans in to kiss you again, but this time, instead of going straight for your mouth he makes his way to your neck. He’s leaning over slightly as kisses your neck, your ears, and your jaw in a playful move that has more passion behind it than playfulness, but you can still tell he is trying to tease you. 

Growing impatient and letting months of pent up emotions control you, you grab his hand on your head and forcefully move it down to your ass, putting your hand overtop of his as you make him squeeze your rear.

Spencer lets out a gentle groan at the feeling of you gripped in his hand, and grabs the handful roughly, digging his fingers into the denim of your jeans. 

"Now, can we talk?" His voice is gravelly and breathless. 

You’re pushing his body back until the backs of his knees hit the couch, and he sits down on it. You sit down next to him and begin to kiss up his neck, one of your hands moving to hold his jaw steady.

"Go ahead.." You murmur against his neck as you press a wet and sloppy kiss against the goosebump raised skin. 

Spencer lets out a small chuckle at how much you seem to be enjoying this. He's loving every second of it and he just smiles as his eyes start to go a little bit cross-eyed as he leans back into you.

"Stop that. I don't think I can hold a coherent thought like this."

His voice is half serious and half playful, still filled with the same passion and lust for you it has been the whole time.

"You're a genius, figure it out." Your voice is low and teasing as you bare your teeth against the flesh and nibble at it, leaving small, red marks.

Spencer groans a little bit as a shiver runs down his spine at the feeling of your teeth against his skin. His eyes go a little bit more cross-eyed the longer you do it to him.

"Please," His voice is a little bit breathless and it's unclear if he is asking you to stop or if he's just asking you to take a little break from it so he can finish his sentence. "I'm begging."

Despite his words, you continue to suck at his neck, determined to mark him as yours once more. He was right, you two needed to talk about it, but you were a little preoccupied at the moment. Smiling against his skin, you lick over a fresh hickey.

“Haven't changed much then, Spence.."

Spencer lets out a small noise that is part moan, part whine, and part laugh. His eyes are just about completely rolled back into his skull at this point.

"I can't talk at all while you're doing this," His voice is strained but it's clear he is trying desperately to keep a playful tone to it. "You're not going to make this easy are you?" You can hear him take a deep breath as he is just barely able to calm himself down enough to give you a warning. 

"Nothing about this is easy, love.." The pet name just slips from your mouth, as if it were a habit. You don't dwell on it for too long as you lift yourself onto his lap and continue to kiss and mark his neck.

Spencer moves slightly to make it easier for you to sit on his lap and he lets out a soft sigh when he feels your weight against him and once again he can't help but smile.

"Baby," He says, his voice getting just a little bit more sincere now as he gives you a soft kiss on the cheek, "Please..." he asks one last time with pleading in his eyes.

"I have a lot to talk to you about. I'm not sure how you feel about everything but I promise it will be okay if you let me explain."

With a final press of your lips against him, you pull back and rest your hands on his shoulders. 

"Speak then."

The man takes a deep breath and speaks with the most sincerity you have ever heard in his voice.

"I am truly, truly, sorry for what I did to you," His voice cracks at the end of the word ‘you’ as he gets emotional again. He takes a few more deep breaths to compose himself before tearily speaking again. You can see how much he means the things he is saying and how much it hurts him having to tell you this.

“You didn’t and don’t deserve anything I did to you. I was wrong, and I’m sorry."

You had hoped the cloud of lust that sat between the two of you was enough to distract and mask the real reason why he was here, and you sigh. The arousal in your body fades and is quickly replaced with solemnness.

"I didn't deserve it, and I so badly want to hate you, Spencer." He reaches a hand out to run through your hair as you talk, and you lean into his comforting touch. "I spent months wanting to scream at you, yell at you for how you treated me. I wasn't even going to talk to you today, really.."

At your words Spencer's eyes fill with regret. He can only imagine how hard and awful the past few months must have been for you and to know he is the one who put you through it all makes him feel like he's a monster.

"I can't blame you, I know I'm a terrible person.. I really do." Spencer's voice cracks and tears start to form in his eyes too, he looks at you with a sad, pitiful look in his eyes. "You didn't deserve any of it, baby. I don't know what I was thinking.."

You tilt your head to the side at his words and pout at the way he's putting himself down. With a slightly trembling hand, you reach to wipe the tears forming in his eyes.

"You're not a terrible person, Spence. Just.." Taking a deep breath, you actually think about your response this time. When you come to a conclusion, you don't know if it's the right one or not. "Just, promise not to do it again, alright?"

Spencer watches you as you wipe away the tears that have formed in his eyes. He looks up and meets your eyes with some of the most pure love and devotion he has ever had. He slowly nods his head in agreement as a small smile starts to form on his face at your response.

"I promise, my love... I will do anything to make up for what I've done."

His words are filled with so much love and compassion it almost seems impossible that he is the same man who hurt you so many months ago.

You slowly nod and swallow, and try to push away the already rising feelings of sadness and regret.

"Can I kiss you without being interrupted, now?"

Spencer chuckles a little and nods.

"Of course you can... I've been dying for one." He gives you a playful wink and a playful shove to your shoulder before turning to kiss you deeply. When he pulls away his eyes are filled with the same passion and desire you have always loved, and a bit of the same lust you felt earlier as well. He smiles at you as he leans back on the couch and wraps his hands on your hips. 

"Come closer. I've missed you so much."

A warm feeling fills your body at his words and you grab the back of his head to tug him into a hot and heavy kiss, full of pent up emotions of anger, lust, love, and hurt.

Spencer moves in for the kiss with just as much desire and lust as you. He lets out a small, playful moan as you pull on his hair, he grabs your waist as you kiss him and a small smile forms on his mouth.

As your lips break apart he catches his breath for a minute but he seems unable to resist you for too long as he pulls you in again for another kiss, this one even stronger than the one before and his hands start to wander under your clothes to the small of your back. Just one moment seems to be too long without his arms around you and his lips on yours.

A sigh of satisfaction pours from your mouth into his, and the feeling of his hands on your bare skin was a sensation you've gone far too long without. His fingers swirling up the flesh of your back feels like it's burning you in the best way, and you're all too eager to finally connect with him again.

Moving your hands to take off your shirt, you pull away from the kiss, much to his disappointment. As you tug the fabric off your body and over your head, you're left in your bra and jeans as you look up at him through long lashes and sultry eyes.

Spencer gasps at the sight of you and it takes all of his restraint not to just pounce you like an animal. A grin washes across his face and that devilish glint returns to his eyes once more.

“You are more beautiful than I ever remembered,” He says in a way that is both flirtatious but also full of love and adoration. He smiles as he looks up at you. 

“Will you allow me the honor of taking those off of you?”

"Please.." Is all you can mewl out, lust washing over your entire body, just ready to be his again.

At your words, Spencer's eyes light up with excitement and he smiles widely before getting off the couch and kneeling down in front of you. He slowly reaches out to the clasp of your bra and undoes it before slowly sliding it down your arms and off of you. He doesn't even try to hide his joy, it's evident in just how much he's smiling and the glimmer in his eye.

"You're still so perfect, my love... Just like a goddess." He whispers as he reaches to undo your jeans and unzip them.

You lift your bottom a bit off the couch to help him pull your pants down your legs, moaning softly at the cool air hitting your skin. Your arms cross over your chest, not used to being exposed like this after so long.

Spencer can't take his eyes away from you as he takes in your body again and a deep, content sigh escapes his lips as he looks at you.

"God.. You're more beautiful than I ever thought was possible," He whispers in amazement as his eyes take in your exposed body. "And you're just as beautiful on the inside too. I’m sorry it took me so long to understand that.."

You can feel your breath hitching at his words, and a warm blush spreads over your cheeks, and you slowly lower your hands from over your chest, and rest them next to your bare thighs. You're only left in your panties now, sitting on the couch as he's kneeling in front of you.

Spencer's heart speeds up and he breathes heavily as he takes in the view in front of him. It's almost a little overwhelming, but all he can manage to do is take it in and admire you as he is left speechless for a moment. Finally, he comes to and he slowly moves in to touch your thighs. He takes his time and caresses them softly with his fingertips.

At his soft soft, you flinch slightly before letting your body relax. You trusted him, even after so long.

You can see the care and love in every soft caress that Spencer deals to your delicate body. His slow, steady touch is done with an intensity and a passion that almost seems to radiate off of him and you can feel it as his fingertips glide over the skin of your thighs. You don't know if you have ever felt someone be so delicate, slow, and methodical with something before but it’s beautiful, almost like he was dealing with a piece of art. 

Subconsciously, you feel yourself slowly spreading your legs as you watch his large hands move towards your body, and take the bands of your underwear in his fingers. He looks up at you for approval.

Spencer's breath catches in his throat and you can see his jaw practically hanging open as he's overwhelmed by the view that's in front of him. "You're beautiful, darling.." He says like it's a prayer. He lets out a soft sigh, and he nods in approval before slowly taking the bands off and peeling them down your legs.

You moan now that you're fully exposed in front of him, and all previous confidence you had in you has completely dissipated under his intense glare. Once the air flushes against your bare, soaked cunt, it makes you shudder with a shiver. 

Spencer's eyes narrow down on you and they burn with passion and emotion at seeing you there on the couch in front of him, all spread out and ready for him. He's lost in you for a minute and you can see it as his breath hitches and his jaw is still hanging half open. He still moves with deliberate, slow, and gentle touches as he moves his hand to the top of your thigh.

"Baby.. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He whispers breathless, almost as though he is stunned by just the sight of you.

Moving your legs, you hook your calf around the back of his head, pulling him closer to your spread thighs, and there's a devilish smirk on your face.

He’s caught aback by how you pull him closer to your core and his eyes go wide at the gesture. He seems a little bit surprised but in the end he doesn't argue, instead he lets out a small chuckle and moves in closer to the point that the front of his face is pressed up against your thighs.

"What are you doing to me, love?" He asks innocently with a smirk of his own as he looks up at you with an amused smile on his face. His warm breath is ghosting over your glistening hole, and it makes you all the more desperate for him. 

“Making up for lost time.” 

You pull him in closer with your leg latched around him, urging him to get on with it already. You hadn’t slept with anyone since the two of you broke up, and you never really had time to take care of yourself. But that’s what he was there for. 

“Guess I better get to work, then..”

Spencer huskily spoke before leaning down and encasing your puffy clit between his spit slicked lips. The sensation instantly made you arch your back and jolt away from him, but he was quick to wrap his hands and arms under your thighs and over your hips, forcing you closer.

As he pulls you closer, his long wet tongue peeks out from his mouth and licks a broad stripe up your cunt, tasting just how much you missed him. With each lick, he was lapping up at your juices like a man starved, moaning at the way your slick coated his tongue. 

Your lips were parted in a high pitched mewl, and you squeezed his head tighter with your legs. It made him dizzy, being suffocated by your shaking thighs and your gushing pussy, and he couldn’t have asked to be anywhere better. 

The wet muscle between your folds was pistoning in and out of you like heavy machinery, working you just the way you needed. You could feel your cunt contracting around him, further gushing your arousal on his tongue. 

Spencer was breathlessly moaning into your core, not being able to contain it. He was agonizingly hard in his pants, and it took everything in him to pry himself away from you. When he does, he deals one last slow, tortuous lick up your folds, before licking his lips and backing away. 

You look up at him with pleading eyes, and he was already working on lifting you from the couch, quickly making his way into the hallway and where he knew your bedroom was.

You could feel your still soaked cunt rubbing against the silky fabric of his shirt, and couldn't help but grind your hips down against it. You had been so touch starved, that even this tiny bit of satisfaction made your breath catch in your throat.

He gently laid you down on the bed, making sure your head was rested against a pillow, before he practically tore the buttons off his shirt trying to take it off. And his pants were no different, the leather of his belt slid against the fabric of his dress pants, and as soon as you heard a small clank of metal against your floor, his pants followed suit. 

When he was fully undressed, and crawled over your body until he was caging you underneath him, and the sight of his slightly sweaty hair falling over his face made your chest heavy with emotion. 

Spencer leans down to kiss a line from your chin to your jaw, before stopping at your ear and lowly whispering into it. 

“Think you can let me take care of you again, like old times?” 

And it’s almost like his voice has put you under a trance, because before he can even finish, you’re nodding. It didn’t matter what he asked of you, you’d always say yes. 

He lifts himself away from you with a small mirrored nod, before hoisting you by your waist and flipping your pliant body around, and propping a pillow under your stomach and hips.

The cool material pressed against your sweat sheened skin made you sigh, and his rough hands traced over the curves of your hips and ass like he was trying to relive all the nights that he used to have you like this; plush ass bent over in front of him, soaked cunt begging for attention, spread legs practically inviting him between them. 

He swallows at the memories, and has a hard time convincing himself this is actually happening again. But he doesn’t dwell on it for too long, whether or not you’re really in front of him, or he’s just dreaming again, he can’t leave you like this. He loves you too much. 

Trembling hands find the heavy bobbing length of his cock, and he grabs himself at the base, shakily squeezing in order to urge himself to not cum immediately. You deserved better than that. You deserved so much better than everything he could give you, and he promised himself he’d somehow redeem himself. 

There wasn’t a better time to start than now, he thinks to himself as he tilts his hips forward to rub the leaking tip of his member against the silky folds of your cunt. And thank goodness he’s kneeling, because the second he felt soft, wet flesh against him, he would’ve collapsed. 

“G-God.. Missed this..”

You lift your head slightly from where it’s pressed against the pillow, and look back at him with a lazy smile. Your voice is slighted muffled against the fabric, but he understands you.

“Didn’t get laid over the summer, Spence?” 

You lift your ass higher, arching your back further so he would get the memo to fuck you already, and with a shake of his head and the cant of his hips, he’s easing himself inside of you, inch by inch. 

“N-No.. Was always yours, love.”

The smile slowly falls from your face and you turn back around to bury your face in the pillow, trying to play it off with a pleasured sigh. 

The two of you had stayed loyal to one another, despite everything. The thought made your heart swell and your cunt clench. He was unmistakably yours, and he always would be, no matter what. 

The squeeze of your hole around him forced him inside of you quicker than he had planned on, and he had to bite his lip, breaking skin, to stop himself from finishing right there and then. He grunted as he tried to regain control over himself, and pushed himself the rest of the way inside of you.

When he was buried to the hilt inside of you, your eyes rolled back into your skull and you bit at the pillow to stop yourself from screaming. He filled you so perfectly, just as he used to. It felt right, like he belonged nowhere else but entirely swallowed by your cunt. 

Spencer mutters out a few curses to himself before he’s draping himself over your body, pressing his firm chest against your damp back. His mouth is right by your ear, and you move your head to the side a bit to hear him better. 

And hear him better you definitely do. You can feel the heave of his chest as he breathlessly begins to withdraw his cock from inside of you. The rub of his veiny, long length dragging along your soft walls had you cursing like a sailor. 

As his breaths and moans quicken, so does the shove of his hips against your ass. He was so deep inside of you it was a miracle he was even able to pull himself out of you, but he managed to do it just fine. There were no complaints from you whatsoever as you felt him imprint the image of his tip right against your spot with every thrust he dealt to you. 

Your hands were planted out in front of you, gripping at the fabric of the comforter when his own came and fully encompassed them. Spencer intertwined your fingers together as the visceral sound of your pussy sucking him deeper and deeper filled your ears. 

Every time he humped into you, your clit brushed against the pillow, and it only made your cries of pleasure grow louder. The friction was dizzying, and you unknowingly clench around him impossibly tighter. 

And he just about loses his mind at that moment. When he’s sucked flush against your body, he goes cross eyed and squeezes your hands in his, as if trying to ground himself. A guttural groan leaves him and it’s a few more moments before he’s panting in your ear as he starts to move once more. 

He pulled back his hips to let his cock slide halfway out of you, before forcing himself back into that tight drenched cunt of yours. You can feel the spurt of arousal that leaks out of you at the force of his thrust, and you writhed at the feeling. 

Your body shakes underneath his as the combined feeling of grinding yourself down against the pillow and how deliciously his length abused your cervix and puffy folds drives you mad. You were gasping for air, trading your desperate moans and whines for a chance at breathing.  

“Sp-Spence.. Baby–please.” 

There wasn’t one single thought in your brain that knew what you were begging for, but somehow, Spencer knew exactly what to give you.

“L-Love you so much, sweet thing..” 

He moans out to you, then he leans down unbelievably closer to you. He lets go of one of your hands to wrap his own around your neck, grabbing at your throat as gently as he can to urge your face up to kiss him. 

It’s a little hard to catch his lips with yours, as with each plow into you sent your body forward, along with how heavily he was breathing. But when you do, the two of you seal your lips together in a passionate, burning kiss. 

His grip around your throat tightens a bit, and it’s enough to entirely set you off the edge. With one more ground of your hips against the pillow, and one more stamp of his cock against that little spongy spot inside of you, you’re suddenly soaking everything around you. 

The wet noise of your release is all you and him can hear, as you’re spraying your arousal all over his hips, his cock, your thighs, and those poor sheets underneath the two of you. Your eyes cross almost comically at the feeling of your orgasm rushing through you, and Spencer is doing no better.  

As he feels you squirt all over him, he curses into your ear and his entire body goes rigid. His hips still and he pushes himself as deep as he can possibly get before dumping everything he’s worth right into your soaked velvet core, sending ribbon after ribbon of his cum right against your cervix. 

“F-Fuck.. Fuck.. fuck..” 

All you can think about is how full you are. His cock is miraculously still hard inside of you, even though he’s emptied everything he’s got into you, and his thick cum is practically fighting for any room left you’ve got inside you. 

Wet. Wet would be the only word to describe the scene you’ve found yourself in. Your body goes limp against the soaked bed, and his sweat drenched body finds itself at the same fate as he collapses against you. The hand around your throat loosens and snakes its way back to your lonely hand, intertwining them once again. 

The both of you are panting against each other's faces for god knows how long, and neither of you have moved a muscle. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, running down the expanse of your thighs to join the puddles of your own arousal that pool against the bed. 

With a groan, he slowly pulled out of you, and it was like pulling the plug to a well, because the second his cock left your hole, a gush of a mixture of your arousals flowed out of you.

He chuckles at the sight, while you just moan softly. Spencer lays down right next to you and pulls your body against his, so you’re chest to chest. He reaches to move your sweaty hair out of your face, pressing a warm kiss against your sticky cheek. When he speaks, his voice is strained and you wouldn’t be surprised if he had lost his voice. 

“You know, he was talking about you during class today..” 

The slight rasp and squeak in his voice is problematically attractive to you, but you don’t think you could deal with another orgasm after flooding your own bed. 

You shake your head and groan softly at his words. 

“Oh god, what’d he say?” 

“He kept saying to everyone, ‘Mr.Reid is Mommy’s boyfriend!’” 

The tone in his voice heightens as he tries his best to imitate your son's words. You groan again and close your eyes. 

“And I’m guessing you didn’t say anything to him about it?” 

Your voice is strained and laced with faux annoyance, but he sees right through it. Spencer huffs out a small laugh and presses a kiss to your forehead. With the arm that’s holding you against him, he squeezes your shoulders lightly, as if to tease you. 

“Course I didn’t, can’t embarrass him like that..” 

Rolling your eyes, you sigh and he pulls you closer to him as you shake your head.  

“You’re the worst, I hope you know.” Your tone is playful and teasing, but you can feel yourself relaxing in his hold, allowing yourself to savor the moment for the time being. 

“Maybe, but at least I’m ‘Mommy’s boyfriend’ again..” 

[pretty-blkgirl]

Soul’s Desire [Ch. 29]

- Masterlist -

A/N: Contains a written part. There is a TW for this chapter. Scenes of physical assault are present, it’s also a very heavy chapter in general. Please be mindful and don’t read anything that may upset you!!!

~~~~|~~~~

“This is a cute place,” Your mom remarked when you three stepped into the house. Hyunjin was standing close to you, already a little put off by your mother, considering she asked him what business he had been doing at your apartment less than three minutes prior.

When he explained he was a “friend” of yours, your mom rolled her eyes and told him you couldn’t have possibly had so many friends.

Hyunjin was done with her after that, but you still allowed her in the dorm despite his looks of disapproval.

“Thank you,” You said, “Yumi and Hana decorated it for the most part. They have an eye for-”

“You have no pictures of me and you” Your mom frowned as she looked at the photo wall you and the girls had.

To be fair, there were no pictures of any of you guys’ families. The wall was only meant for pictures of you and the group.

“I have a picture of us in my room” You revealed, “I’ll show it to you”

“I want a picture of us out here though.”

“Let’s go see the picture,” Hyunjin smiled. To your mom, he looked polite, to you, he looked beyond pissed.

You set the food down and took them to your room. After setting your purse down, you pointed in the direction of your bedside table. As you said, there was a picture of you and your mom. It was an older picture, you were maybe one or two years old, but it was a picture nonetheless.

“That’s nice” She mumbled

You took your guests back to the dining room to finally eat lunch. You wanted your mom to leave quickly, you could tell her mood had soured for whatever reason and you didn’t want to deal with that.

As you three ate, she started to get a little antsy, which made you nervous.

“Mom, are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine baby” She grinned, but her leg shook violently and she kept looking back towards the hallway.

“You sure?”

“Well” She sighed, “Can I use the restroom?”

“Of course” You nodded, “Do you remember the way to my room? The bathroom is right across from it”

She nodded and stood up, excusing herself and leaving you and Hyunjin alone.

Once he was sure he heard a door close, Hyunjin gave you a look

“I know that’s your mother, and I’d never disrespect her, but… I don’t like her!” He whispered, “I don’t know baby, she just gives off this….vibe. It’s a bad vibe, she seems so spiteful”

You crossed your arms, taking in Hyunjin’s words as you replayed the last couple of days in your mind.

Her whole demeanor just didn’t sit right with you. Either she was too sweet or very passive-aggressive. A few times she swore at you, and you could tell she hadn’t really changed.

At least, she didn’t change enough for you.

“She’s supposed to leave in a couple of days. I think I’m gonna do low contact. I don’t think she grew as a person. It’s like she’s trying to appease me”

You two continued to talk. Five minutes went by. Then ten. Then twenty.

“Why isn’t she out yet?” you asked your boyfriend, who looked just as concerned as you

“Let’s go check on her”

You got up with Hyunjin following close behind. As you walked up to the bathroom, you noticed the door was slightly ajar and the light was off.

You peeked in and didn’t see anyone there.

Then, you noticed your bedroom door was closed. You knew you left it open when you three walked out earlier.

A bad feeling settled in your stomach as you barged into your room.

The first thing you saw was your clothes all over the floor. Your shirts, pants, shorts, and even underwear were scattered everywhere.

Naturally, your drawers were opened, some even fully emptied. Your closet was ransacked and you saw a pile of coats and purses on the floor.

Pieces of paper were crumpled up in a pile, and a dark blue journal was close by, so you immediately knew your diary had been destroyed.

All your posters had been ripped down. All the pictures Hyunjin drew for you were torn apart.

Every love song Han wrote for you that you taped up, destroyed.

Every Polaroid you took with I.N., was destroyed.

The pictures of Soonie, Doognie, and Dori that Lee Know gave to you that featured little words of encouragement on them, were destroyed.

Love poems from Seungmin

Sticky notes with reminders to “keep being cute” or “keep doing well” from Changbin

Origami boats from Felix

And every single flower Chan had ever gotten for you.

He knew you loved roses, and he insisted on getting you real ones even though you couldn’t take care of them.

They were dead and fragile, but you still kept them in a vase just for memory's sake.

Now they lay on the floor. Crushed.

The very last thing you saw was your mother, sitting on your bed, with your wallet in one hand and your debit cards and cash in the other.

“Wow” is all you said

Hyunjin felt your rage build up. The symbol was practically burning a hole through his palm. He knew the other boys could feel it, and they were probably calling and texting you both non-stop.

Your phones were in the other room though, and honestly, you couldn’t give a damn about answering a phone at that moment.

All you felt was pure anger.

All of a sudden you were fifteen years old again, watching your mom demolish your room after she found out you kissed a boy at a school dance.

Then you were twenty, right before you left for Korea, watching her smash every plate, vase, and picture frame she could get her hands on after she learned that you’d be “abandoning her”

You don’t know what set her off this time. You didn’t want to know.

“How could I be so damn stupid?” You wondered aloud, “Why didn’t I tell you to go fuck yourself the moment I found out you showed up at my fucking place of work?”

“Watch your mouth, girl” Your mother snapped, still holding your things in her hands.

“Nah, FUCK THAT. I allowed you to waltz your ass back into my life and this is how you repay me? Wrecking my room? Ruining everything I cherish most?”

You walked further into the room, slowly getting closer to your mother.

Hyunjin knew you were about to do something drastic, so he sprung into action, grabbing your arm before you had a chance to raise it.

Your mom seemingly took this as a challenge. She threw your money and cards down, standing up and getting in your face.

“I read your little diary. I saw all the things you said about me. You think I’m a failure as a mother? You think I don’t give a fuck about you, huh? You called me a narcissistic bitch. I’ll show you a bitch alright”

Her hand raised and she slapped you.

It was so quick, you could barely process what had happened. Hyunjin, though, moved you behind him.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” He fumed, “Don’t you ever put your fucking hands on her again”

“Please move Hyunjin” You trembled, hands visibly shaking as he continued to yell profanities at your mother.

“No! I’m gonna call the fucking police, you think you’re gonna get away with hitting her? Are you fucking dumb?”

“Hyunjin leave the room please”

“Y/n she HIT YOU! I’M NOT LEAVING YOU ALONE WITH HER”

“Please leave and call Rose. Tell her I need an NDA and my mom on the next flight back home”

He was about to argue more, but you gave him a look so desperate he wouldn’t dare to talk back. Hyunjin begrudgingly left, but made sure to leave the door wide open just in case he needed to rush back in.

When he was gone, you faced your mother.

You loved her.

You loved her so much.

Despite how much she mistreated and hurt you, all you wanted was for her to love you back.

You needed her approval, you craved her attention. But the moment she had the nerve -the audacity- to hit you, any hope for reconciliation was out the window.

“My manager will be here any second. You are going to sign an NDA because I don’t trust you won’t try to make money off this situation. Once you sign it, you will get the fuck out of my house. Someone will drive you to your Airbnb, you will get your shit, and you will go back home. As soon as you’re out my eyesight I’m getting rid of any and every trace of you. After today, you will not be able to get a hold of me again. And I swear to God, if you ever find yourself thinking you’re gonna try and ruin my life any more than you already have, I’ll get a lawyer and sue your ass so quickly that you won’t even have a pot to piss in by the time I’m through with you.”

As if on cue, Hyunjin walks back in with Rose.

“Y/nnie? What happened? I got here as quick as I could- what happened to your room? Is your face bruised up?”

“Do you have the NDA, Rose?”

“Yes, I mean I have a regular one? What did you want one for specifically?”

“What are the guidelines in that one?”

She quickly skimmed through the papers, “The person who signs it can’t reveal any details about any situation that could harm the artist’s reputation or image in any way, with certain stipulations of course”

“Let’s say my mom destroyed my room, hit, and planned to rob me. If she signed those documents, would she be able to talk about it in exchange for money or even…exposure?”

Rose was quiet for a few seconds, finally understanding the gravity of the situation

“No” She finally said, “Not unless she wanted to get a couple of lawsuits”

“What if she made up a story to try and harm my reputation?”

“That wouldn’t be a very smart thing to do, especially if she planned on living a peaceful life”

You wordlessly took the papers and grabbed a pen off your desk, giving both the items to your mom. With a look of disbelief mixed with hatred, she signed the papers and threw them on the floor.

“You were a mistake” She sneered, “I hate you”

You thought your heart would break, you thought you would crumble at her words, but you simply nodded.

“Goodbye Mom”

Rose escorted her out, and you finally started to feel the warm sensation on your cheek.

Your legs were wobbly, and they gave out after a few seconds. Hyunjin was at your side instantly, holding you as you started to sob violently.

~~~~|~~~~

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