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stevieschrodinger · 6 months ago

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Part One Two Three four

Steve’s eating a bowl of cereal, squinting in the morning light. He’s barefoot, wearing nothing but sleep shorts, and is considering going back to bed. He shouldn’t though; he has to be on time today.

Since the mall burned down, Scoops Ahoy is, annoyingly, no more. Robin thinks she has something though, some guy at Family Video who probably has the hots for her or something. Doesn’t matter though, Steve doesn’t really care what this Keith guys motivation is as long as it results in gainful employment for the both of them.

He really should shower.

Steve can see the pool from here, so he’s in a prime position to watch as Eddie pulls himself out of the water and makes his way to the back door.

This is the second time Eddie has come into the house, if you don’t count the emergency temporary over nighter in the bath tub. Well, it’s the second time Eddie has brought himself into the house, at least.

He waits patiently at the back door, like a cat waiting to be let in, and Steve opens the door for him, cereal bowl still balanced in the other hand.

He holds himself in that same way, flat of his tail curled up beneath him, giving him a little height, and he sits himself uncertainly in the middle of the kitchen floor, “hi Eddie.”

“Stee. Buddidy”

Steve gets him some celery from the bottom of the fridge and gives him the whole thing. They stand, and sit, together in comfortable silence, crunching their way through their respective breakfasts.

Steve watches as Eddie cautiously makes his way to the fridge once he’s done, looking to Steve with his his hand on the door, a question on his face, Steve nods, “yeah.”

Eddie opens the door, and Steve watches as he explores, carefully moving jars and condiments and stuff around, glass clinking quietly, before he opens the drawer at the bottom and pulls out a pear, carefully closing the drawer and door again after. He eats the whole thing, stalk, core, seeds, everything.

Steve washes up his dish, checking the time, “want to watch some TV?”

Eddie cocks his head, but follows Steve into the lounge. He sits, looking around, feeling the carpet under his hands, running his nails carefully through the pile until the TV catches his attention.

He moves closer. And then closer again, making Steve laugh when he taps a nail on the curved glass of the screen.

“I’m going to go shower, you shouldn't sit so close, it’s bad for your eyes.”

Robin does her make up in the car on the way over to Family Video, “how’s Eddie?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking, it really means a lot to me, how much you care about my well being.”

She sighs through her nose and rolls her eyes, and Steve tuts at her.

“He came in the house this morning, I left him watching TV.”

“Huh. I mean normally I would say it’ll rot his brain but, something for him to do would be good, right?”

“Yeah. And if I’m getting a job, we should try and teach him to use the walkie’s at least. In case there’s like an emergency or something.”

“A fruit and veg related emergency.”

“Yeah, kind of. We really need to figure out what to do with him, he can’t just sit in my pool forever.”

She hums in agreement.

It’s just starting to rain when Steve gets home, the first break in the nearly two weeks of sunny weather they’ve been having.

Probably won’t be sharing a beer with Eddie tonight then. Well, Steve hasn’t really been sharing, he’s been letting Eddie steal the last third of a bottle, which isn’t really the same thing.

Eddie’s actually sitting on on the couch when Steve gets in, which surprises him momentarily. There’s an empty container on the cushion next to him, Steve figures he found the grapes.

“Hey.”

Eddie turns to see him, smiling, clearly pleased to see him, which is a nice change of pace. Sure he knows Robin loves him, but she’s never actually openly really happy to see him unless she’s, like, drunk or high. And the kids. Steve knows they must at least kind of like him, but they’re all just little shits. Having someone to come home to who is genuinely pleased to see him is a really nice change of pace.

“It just started raining.”

“Raiiniing.”

“Yeah,” Steve points at the window, “uhm, wet. Uhm. Sky wet.”

“Et.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie’s eyes widen suddenly, scrabbling off the couch in clear panic, “Et! Et!”

“Yeah Buddy, what’s wrong-”

Eddie’s frantically slithering across the lounge carpet with what is a truly amazing turn of speed considering his anatomy, “et inied! Book! NO! NO!”

“Oh, shit! Your book,” Steve hops over Eddie’s tail, making it to the door and then sprinting across the grass, grabbing the book and bringing it back.

Eddie’s sitting in the door way, hands clasped together, watching anxiously, “it’s not so bad, just a little damp.” Steve holds the book out to show him where drops of rain have speckled the pages, “it’s not bad.”

“Not bad. Good,” but he’s still frowning, clearly concerned where the paper is discolored by the water.

“Wait,” Eddie does as he’s told as Steve runs upstairs for the hair dryer, plugging it in in the lounge and sitting on the floor, Eddie joining him with the book. “Here, feel,” he turns it on, pointing it Eddie’s way.

Eddie sticks his fingers towards it, and then pulls the back, startled. Then he does it again before watching Steve dry the pages of the book, “dry. Et inied.”

“That’s right buddy.”

“Stee Edidie budidy.”

“That’s right. Yeah.”

Eddie sits next to Steve watching nervously as Steve gets the final pages dried off, and Steve hands the book back.

Eddie grins, “thanks Birdidie,” and then darts forward to press his lips to Steve’s cheek. It's just a press, not a real kiss.

“Oh,” and then Steve chuckles when he realizes what’s happened, the behavior that Eddie's seen and is now mimicking, “no. Uhm. Thank you Steve.”

Eddie cocks his head.

“Wait, wait,” Steve takes the hair dryer with him, heading up the stairs again, and this time coming back with a handful of Polaroids, he shuffles them into a neat stack, sitting next to Eddie on the floor. “Right, this is Robin. Birdie.”

“Thanks Birdidie.”

“Yeah, that’s right, that’s Birdie, now,” Steve shuffles through, “Max,” he says pointing, “and El.”

“El. Max.”

It’s thirty minutes and two pears later, but Eddie seems to be able to identify everyone reliably from their photographs, “no, Dustin.”

“Dust bin,” Eddie replies, confidently.

“You know what, sure, dust bin. Let’s go with that. Kind of suits him, actually.”

Steve’s drinking his evening beer. The weather much better again today, but the evenings are drawing in, and the sun set has almost taken Steve by surprise with how early it’s painting the sky pink. Summer’s coming to a close. Which brings some urgency to the question; what are they going to do with Eddie? The pool isn’t heated, and it usually gets drained and covered for the winter months. It’ll definitely freeze over at some point if they leave it open like this, and there’s no way Eddie could survive that, could he?

Steve doesn’t know. There’s just too much they don’t know about Eddie.

Steve’s got his first shift at Family Video tomorrow, a closing shift with the manager, Keith. Apparently he wants to show Steve the ropes when it comes to shutting down the store; Steve figures just from that that he’s going to be stuck with more than his fair share of late shifts.

He wonders if Eddie’s going to miss his evening beer. He really should teach Eddie to use a walkie. Tomorrow, he decides, will be as good a time as any. Tomorrow morning, and then Steve can leave one with Eddie and take one to work with him.

At least he knows Eddie can get into the house if he really has to, if he gets hungry or whatever. He really could do with some sort of cover out here though. Some where to leave his book in case of the rain. Maybe put a couple of towels in there, some food in the cool box when Steve’s out, the walkie, that sort of stuff.

Eddie swims over, pushing his floating toy bucket along ahead of him in the water. There are things in it tonight, which is a first. Eddie puts his bucket on the side of the pool before pulling himself out to sit beside Steve.

He pulls something out of his bucket to show to Steve, “oh, it’s a pine cone. Hold on.” Steve puts his beer down to grab the encyclopedia, and Eddie duly swipes it. Steve flicks through the book wile Eddie sips the beer, “look, this is a tree.”

“Tee.”

“Tree.”

“Trrreeee.”

“Yeah, it’s a seed for a tree,” Steve shows Eddie the series of pictures, how the seed underground grows a little shoot that grows, eventually, into a tree.

Eddie fetches something else from his bucket, showing Steve, “trree?”

“Leaf,” Steve points at the leaf in Eddie’s hand, then, “tree,” as he points to the tree line at the bottom edge of the yard.

Eddie’s frowning at the page in the book, but he does nod, so Steve doesn’t push it any further.

“Steve do you know how early it is.”

“I know, but I don’t care, do you still have that tent you were playing around with last summer?”

“Camping, Steve, I went camping with-what do you want it for, anyway?”

“It’s for Eddie.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dustin’s tone changes to immediately helpful, “yeah, do you want to come and get it? I’m pretty sure I still have it-MAAAAA! MAAAAAAA DO YOU KNOW-”

Steve pulls the receiver away from his head while Dustin's hollering at his poor mother.

“Yeah, we know where it is, you coming now?”

Eddie’s holding a piece of plastic tubing, looking concerned, and watching Steve struggle with the worlds smallest two man tent, “it’s okay, I got this.”

Eddie tilts his head one way and then the other, like a curious bird, as Steve struggles. It takes a couple of failed attempts, not helped by the fact that Dustin couldn’t find the instructions, but it doesn’t take that long before the tent is ready. Steve sets it on the grass, the doorway edge butted up against the tiles that surround the pool edge. Steve fixes the guy ropes using metal tent pegs driven into the lawn. It’s not hugely spacious inside, just big enough to accommodate two medium sized dudes when lying down, just as long as those two medium sized dudes are super comfortable with each other, then it’s fine.

Steve goes backward and forward, lining the bottom with a couple of sleeping mats he also borrowed from Dustin, and then putting in a couple of towels, Eddie’s book, and rescuing the Rubik's cube and slinkie from where they've lain, ignored, on the side of the pool, “there, what do you think?”

Eddie moves closer, cautiously looking inside before looking back to Steve, “yeah, good. Go in, it's okay,” Steve nods and smiles and generally tries to be encouraging.

Eddie goes inside before turning to look out, sitting on his tail.

Steve sits in the doorway, “it’ll keep your book dry.”

Eddie ponders that a moment, touching his book, before looking up. He carefully touches the inside of the tent roof, “et inied?”

“Yeah buddy, that’s right. Good.”

Part six

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #ficlet #ao3 author #pre steddie #mermeddie #mermaid eddie #upside down creature eddie #Fish Guy Eddie

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morverenmaybewrites · 4 months ago

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The Pizza Delivery Girl's Survival Guide to Gotham City Update

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Newest chapter

AO3 Link

Summary:

People who lived outside of Gotham City would most often think of it in terms of its heroes and villains. About Batman and Robin, Joker and Harley Quinn.

People who actually live in Gotham City would only think of one thing: surviving.

Who cares about the people in costumes when your house has been bombed for the fifth time, or your wife has been taken hostage just because she worked in a bank?

Or, in your case, when you have to make regular deliveries to places where even Batman feared to tread?

Because let's face it. In a world full of superheroes and costumed villains, the real heroes are the ones who make sure that people get their pizzas in forty-five minutes or less.

Chapter Preview:

You paused on the bridge that hung high above the Burrow, and for the first time in your life, you felt a terror was so great that it made your throat close.

Gotham City had never looked so beautiful. From such a height, the burning neon lights looked like stars.

But above your head, the sky looked pitch black. It made you think of the bodies that would sometimes wash up on Gotham Bay’s shores, black and bloated with rot. It made you think of the shadows of inmates in the asylum, their voices like the skittering of insects, rising and falling as you passed them by.

It made you think of the night Timothy Young died, and you wondered that if, back then, there had been light enough that he saw the shadow of a monster fall over him.

You wondered if he had time to understand what was happening, before he started against the concrete below. And then decided decided that it didn’t matter: you would understand If Francine Langstrom came for you, you would know.

You would understand what was happening to you before you hit the ground.

Your skull splitting open, the pink-grey ropes of your brain scattering on the concrete. And the thousand pictures that follow. Your death turned into a spectacle and a profit.

Just like Tim Young’s.

The thought made you freeze. You were standing in front of one of the many wooden bridges that connected the rooftops of abandoned buildings. The Burrow’s infamous floating night market. Set up by dusk and torn down by dawn, only to rise up again the next night, the floating night market was one of the Burrow’s main attractions. A bustling collection of kiosks made out of cheap plywood and tarpaulin, it was said that you could find anything there, so long as you didn’t ask too many questions: cheap phones, likely stolen from someone off the street, fake licenses, a sample of Bane’s Venom for impatient bodybuilders. It was set high up in the air, amidst the rooftops of many abandoned buildings, connected by a series of rickety wooden bridges.

But now the rooftops were empty. The bridges were falling apart, its wooden planks dangling precariously from their ropes. The empty kiosks had been left to rot in the constant rain. You could even see some of the abandoned merchandise, left behind in people’s haste to pack up: an old, broken phone, children’s toys hanging forlornly on strings, obviously meant to be prizes in a game, now swelling with rainwater. Mold grew on their cotton bodies like new fur.

Timothy Young’s death had transformed the Burrows’ floating night market into a ghost town. The thought made you feel a little lonely, picking through the bones of a dead market, looking to find a monster.

Francine, The voice in your head sounded like Professor Langstrom’s. Her name is Francine Langstrom.

The buzz of static cut through your thoughts as cleanly as a falling blade. And then Jason’s voice was in your ear.

“Last chance to back out of this.”

His voice was rough, even taking into account the poor connection and the voice modulators he used. Maybe he was scared, too. The thought eased you somewhat, to know that you were not alone.

Even through the poor connection, you could hear the strain in his voice. You cast a glance at the direction where he was supposed to be, tried to look for even a hint of him: the faint glow of his helmet, the hulking figure of his silhouette. But you found no sign of him. Still, knowing that he was there made you feel better.

You raised a hand and hoped that he would not see the way your fingers trembled.

And waved.

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#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #dc x reader #jason todd #red hood #arkham knight #the pizza delivery girl's survival guide to gotham city

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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Hi!!! I really love your writing 🥺 Idk how this works so Idk if my request is alright so If it's ok for you to write it, I got this idea about Spencer turning into a player/manwhore after maeve died so he's not into y/n in the beginning but the others always joke about how she's totally in love with him and he doesn't believe until he starts to notice little things she does for him(like getting him coffee every morning, remembering everything he says) so he start to fall for her. Genre: smut with soft!Dom Spencer, dirty talk, degradation(please no daddy kink) (Sorry if it's to long, I read it's best for you if we give as much detail as possible so that's that) I'm going to identify myself with this emoji 🥺 when I read the fic or in my next requests, hope I gave you something to write with.

A/N: Thank you for the request and omg this plot has given me brain rot since you sent it in 💀 I accidentally made this a little angst-heavy for the first half but there's a very "happy ending" if you catch my drift. I hope you love it! ❤️

Summary: Spencer Reid's heart is broken. But in healing himself in the arms of countless woman, he doesn't realise he's breaking yours.

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, angst, oral (F receiving), fingering, P in V penetration, dirty talk, degradation of you squint a little, soft!Dom Spencer is incredibly soft.

My masterlist with all my other works is here, and my requests are open!

It had taken four whole months before someone on the team had confronted Spencer about his grief, his lack of sleep, his overall dreariness, and they were almost shocked that it wasn’t you that did it. When Rossi had walked up to him, offering a story about his Uncle Sal in an attempt to get him to open up, or at least seek help, the others were on the other side of the glass, shooting looks over at you, quietly enquiring with their eyes about why it hadn’’t been you to offer him that out.

But you had, you’d been trying. You’d been following him around, taking him food every couple days to make sure he was eating, sticking around to make sure that he wasn’t lonely. You’d even cleaned up after him on the particularly hard days, where he didn’t want to move from his bed and couldn’t bring himself to go outside if there was no work, no one else to save. But you couldn’t offer him more, because he already had all of you.

You’d first realised that you were in love with Spencer Reid a few months after you’d joined the team. You’d been bought on as a fresh set of eyes on a case that had a lot more to do with you then the rest of the team had been led to believe.

Your high school boyfriend had been the victim of a notorious highway murderer, and you yourself had been kidnapped by the unsub, put in hell for the following three days and escaped with your life only because of an earlier BAU team, including agents Hotchner and Rossi. When bodies had started turning up on the same stretch of highway, you needed to be involved or you’d never prove to yourself that you could do what they did to save you. That you’d be able to put your feelings aside and catch monsters.

You’d found the man responsible of course, and in restraining yourself from putting a bullet in his brain, you’d found yourself a place on the team, and some peace for a time. And then Spencer happened.

You really should have known. You were always fond of the nerdy type, of men who had such deep interests that they forgot to pay attention to social queues, who had too many cute habits (like purposefully mismatching socks) that you couldn’t help but find endearing. You’d grown close quickly, with the man grateful that there was finally someone to listen to him ramble and not judge him, and you grateful that he also held himself back enough, listened closely and well to remember so many details about your conversations. You knew an eidetic memory helped, but it was the care in the small actions, like buying you the beanie baby you lost as a child but still mourned, that you’d mentioned in conversation a grand total of one time, that really solidly made you realise. You were in love with him and had dug yourself a hole that you weren’t going to be able to climb out of anytime soon.

You’d almost told him once. Convinced that if you just explained your feelings, he’d suddenly feel the same or realise that he felt the same way, too. You’d opened your mouth to let the words run freely, but he beat you to it.

“I’ve met someone, and she’s totally brilliant and I think I might love her, and that must be an insane thing to say considering I’ve never even seen her face.” You’d willed the broken pieces of your heart together as you forced a smile on your face, ready to listen to the man who owned your heart smile for another, live for another, breath for another.

When Maeve had ultimately passed away, you knew that you’d never be able to say those words to him. You weren’t going to be the replacement for a dead woman, and you weren’t going to push those feelings on him when he was grieving. But you loved him and he needed you, so you stayed.

On the nights where he was so angry with the world that his words were biting, on the days where he said almost nothing so trapped inside his brain, in the hours between dusk and dawn where there was no rest for him, wiping away the tears that fell silently and just being as near to him as he needed.

You had some experience in broken hearts, anyways. You might as well put it to good use.

–X–

It had taken five whole months since Maeve’s death for the team to realise that Spencer was changing. He was still the same person intrinsically, ready to spring into a conversation about absolutely anything and everything that interested him at the drop of a hat, still debating with Penelope about which of them was smarter, still being teased in that playful way by Morgan. But there was a confidence to him now that was almost dangerous in the fact that it was uncharted territory for him.

You’d noticed it first on one of your regular coffee runs. The two of your were so serious about your coffee tasting like anything but actual coffee that you’d bonded over the need for a sweet treat, and had been going for coffee before all of your office shifts almost since you’d started. You were glad to have him finally back by your side, making stupid jokes about how many philosophers it would take to change a lightbulb, and actually smiling and laughing with you that you almost didn’t notice anything amiss.

But when the barista who took his order carefully slipped him her number - something she’d been doing for the whole six months you’d been frequenting that cafe - for once, he hadn’t thrown it away. He’d taken a lingering look at the digits inked neatly into the napkin and quietly slipped it into his pocket. You were confused to say the least, but since that night of your almost confession, there had been a boundary between you two in that sense.

It was almost as if, if you didn’t ask questions about Spencer’s love life, it was like he wasn’t out there, being in love. With Maeve it had worked fine because he’d never met her, and honestly, until you’d started trying to save her he hadn’t brought her up a lot. But now, you were too afraid to break your own heart again to check up on him, deciding to let it go for your own well-being.

The others had noticed soon enough. Comments about a pep in his step, his flirtacious manner with some of the female witnesses. He’d gained a few claps on the back from Morgan after closed off conversations that you had decided you were thankful not to have heard.

Because if you never saw or heard what Reid was doing, and apparently doing with multiple women, multiple times a week, then it couldn’t hurt you anymore than you were already hurting now.

–X–

It took seven months from Maeve’s death to realise that you were only fooling yourself this entire time.

Despite his new-found release, the therapy he’d found in the beds of women whose names he never learnt, there was one thing that you could still rely on with Reid, and that was your Friday night Star Trek watch-along.

You’d mentioned once a few weeks into your job that you’d never seen it before, and he’d had this absolutely starry-eyed look on his face in bewilderment, that when he’d half-heartedly suggested you watch it together, you’d leapt at the chance. Since there was so much of it, here you were over a year later, still keeping to that Friday night ritual. You’d watched it together in motels in the middle of nowhere, you’d watched it together over the Christmas holidays, you’d watched it together in the days directly after Maeve’s death, and tonight was supposed to be no different.

You pulled up to his apartment and knocked on the door, and when you couldn’t immediately hear him shout to “come in” from his kitchen as he was preparing the popcorn, you knew that something was wrong. His door was always unlocked, and he laughed at your habit of knocking on the door, insisting that you could just walk in anytime you needed.

Now that you needed to, your hand seemed heavier than ever. You gripped the cold metal of the handle, knowing exactly what you would find on the other side of the door, but still wanting to live in the clear denial of it. You prayed it was something else keeping him distracted.

You let yourself in and were welcomed with the sight that shattered your heart for the final time. There were clothes scattered across the floor, male and female. Shoes discarded in the heat of the moment. You didn’t want your eyes to follow, but your feet weren’t listening as they walked you to the bedroom door, thrust wide open, and you saw him there finally.

“Shit, Y/N, what are you doing here?” he scrambled to pull his clothes back on, to cover whatever woman it was underneath him that day, to make sure you didn’t see anymore of the image that would be burned into the back of your brain for the rest of your life.

You couldn’t say anything. You knew that he had been doing this, doing it to cope, doing it to move on, doing it to feel a sense of intimacy after he didn’t get that with Maeve. But here was the irrefutable proof that he’d never even looked at you with an ounce of the feeling you had for him. You held up the bag of snacks you usually bought to your Trek marathons as a response, the tears filling up your eyes rendering you mute as you finally tore yourself out of the room.

“Oh god, it’s Friday. I didn’t realise…. I’m sorry, can we do a raincheck, Y/N?” He guided you further out of the room, placing a hand to the small of your back to help move you along. Something in you snapped then and you recoiled from his touch, whipping your head up to him and just staring at him with all the defiance you could muster. He had broken your heart, you weren’t going to let him dismiss you that quickly.

“Y/N, why are you crying? What’s wrong, what happened? Tell me and I’ll do everything I can to fix it.” He finished his words, and made to wipe the tears from your face, but you slapped his hands away from you before he could make contact.

“Don’t… just don’t touch me, Spencer.” Those were the only words you could offer in explanation before you turned on your heel and ran straight out of his apartment for the last time.

–X–

It took one month from you storming out of his apartment for Spencer to realise that he hadn’t dreamt of Maeve in the same amount of time. Where his dreams had been full of her asking him to dance, they were now full of you recoiling from his touch, refusing to speak to him outside of your professional work, withdrawing into yourself and crying. The worst ones were the ones where you were crying because he tried desperately to hold you, to wipe the kisses away, but everytime he tried you moved further and further from his reach.

It had been a month of you ignoring him, and he still didn’t know what went wrong. Yes, you’d caught him in bed with a girl, but you knew he was doing that. You’d known from the start, and he’d known that you’d known, so surely it wasn't just that.

Morgan wasn’t helping him on that front either. He’d explained the awkward run-in in his apartment, desperate for some answers and received some pretty curt replies.

“Pretty boy, if you don’t realise what you did wrong, then there’s nothing I’m going to do to help you. You’re on your own until then.” He’d refused to talk about it anymore.

He’d thought a few times about talking to the girls on the team, but you’d been partnered with JJ for the last month on cases to avoid him, and there was a bond there between the two of you that he didn’t want to overstep.

It was in this confusion that Rossi found him again, taking pity on the boy wandering around like a lost puppy in the absence of your friendship.

“Kid, what is up with you again recently?”

“Y/N has been avoiding me, and I don’t know why. Derek said it was my fault because she… well she walked in on something that I’d rather she hadn’t, you know, and I don’t know why she still won’t talk to me because it’s been a month.” He rambled out, thankful that someone was finally hearing him out.

“If I’m understanding your insinuation here, I think I know what the problem is.” Rossi sat back, choosing his words carefully, so as not to startle the younger man. But he was so worked up all over you, missing your voice, your touch, your company, and just wanting you back in whatever way he could get you that he jumped at the very suggestion of answers.

“Then please, tell me, I’m begging you. I’ve been tearing my hair out trying to figure out what it is and I just miss her so much that it hurts.”

“Spencer, you know I usually don’t get involved in the personal lives of my coworkers, but just listen to me now, nice and calmly - and dont try to interrupt me or say a word. I know what I’m talking about, okay?” He gave a quick nod of his head, waiting with baited breath for Rossi to continue.

“The girl is in love with you. Head over heels, in fact, and has been for quite some time. And she was holding it together real nice until you decided to become this casanova and now she is heartbroken,” Spencer looked like he was about to interrupt, to spew out that that couldn’t possibly be the case, but Rossi silenced him with a look. “If you don’t believe me, you use that memory of yours and you do what you do best. Think about it.”

–X–

For the next three months, that was all Spencer did. He thought about every interaction you’d ever had. The blush on your cheeks when he’d introduced himself for the first time (and refused to shake your hand). The countless nights spent curled up on opposite sides of his couch, laughing and crying together at silly sci-fi shows. The way you’d thrown yourself into his arms after a particularly gruelling case, buried your head in his chest instead of anyone else's. The day you’d finally confessed your past to him, how he’d felt your heart beating as he held a finger to your pulse, hand gently holding yours waiting for you to finish describing the time you’d stared death in the face.

You’d noticed the change, but you wouldn’t let yourself acknowledge it fully. Noticed how he’d shoot you lingering glances from across the room, how he’d look like he had something to say when you announced you were leaving for the night. How he’d ask everyone together what their friday night plans were just to hear you admit that you were going home alone in the company of the rest of the team.

You’d noticed, and god had it given you a spark of hope that you wished would die quickly. You’d noticed, and so you weren’t as surprised when he turned up on your doorstep four months after you’d last talked to him, on another friday evening.

“What are you doing here?” you greeted him, the words coming out colder than you wanted them to seem, inwardly cursing yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you.

“Don’t make me leave, please, I just have something to ask and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Spencer, it’s been a long day, and I just want to go to bed so-”

“Do you still love me?” His words cut you off and your heart all but stopped. Your tongue grew heavy, and the inside of your mouth tasted acidic, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to fully stomach whatever conversation was coming.

“Excuse me?” you spluttered out eventually.

“Three months ago, Rossi said that you were in love with me, and I need to know that if that was the case, are you still in love with me now?” You expected some cold curious look to be gracing his face, but you looked up to see his eyes perfectly trained on your own, his mouth set in a line, a look of stony determination set on his face.

“If I say yes, what difference does that make?” you tried not to spit out the words, but you had no control over the venom in your heart.

“If you say yes, then I am going to kiss you, and then I am going to spend every last day I have on the planet making up for being an idiot for the last two years.” Your breath caught in your throat, and, not for the first time in front of Spencer Reid, you were stunned into silence.

“So, what is your answer?” He looked down at you again, and you started to see the cracks in his stony facade, started to see through to the man who desperately wanted you to say yes, to scream it at him.

The word hadn’t even fully formed on your tongue before he was crashing down into you, his mouth pleading for forgiveness and wrapping you up in him. He grabbed you and pulled you back into your apartment, whispering into each of your kisses.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” The two of you stumbled into the space, but he never moved his hands from the sides of your face, cupping your cheeks gently as his lips brushed against yours again and again.

Your legs gave way beneath you by the time you’d reached the open space of your living room, but instead of catching you, he fell to his knees with you, content for the two of you to just sit there together in each other's embrace.

“You’ve loved me this entire time, and I was too stupid to realise that you’re everything I need.” He kissed your mouth, your jaw, your neck, moving his hands from your face to your waist, pulling you in deep again as you desperately pulled away in search of breath. That only toppled you further to the ground, and he came down on top of you again as well, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head so you didn’t hurt yourself.

And you kissed him back just as fervently when your breath returned, listening to every apology and forgiving him with every touch. His kisses said “I’m sorry,” and yours said “I know,” and that was all the communication you needed for now.

He pulled your shirt over your head eventually, and your skin met the cold tile of the floor, a shiver running up your spine causing you to buck your hips up into his. He hissed at the contact and pushed his bodyweight down further into yours, his legs slotting perfectly between your splayed ones now.

“It took me too long to realise, and it has taken me too long to act on the knowledge, but I am not going to let you go again, do you understand?” he pushed his lips into yours again before you could respond, and you clawed into his shoulders as he started grinding down into your body. His hand trailed up your waist to your breasts, pulling them free from the constraints of your bra, as he let his tongue slide down from your neck to your chest.

“I need to hear you say it baby, need you to say you understand, can you do that for me?” Your body burned under his attention, back arching desperately for more contact as his tongue swirled your nipple into his mouth, gasping breaths loud enough to fill the empty air of your apartment. His stiff cock was firmly pressing against your core now, barely clothed in the pajamas you’d pulled on before his arrival.

“Spencer, yes, I need you, I need you right now, please,” grabbed at either side of his face and pulled him back up so he was face to face with you. You initiated the kiss this time, and you could feel your heart soar at the tender kiss he met you with, thankful for the reciprocation.

“Not yet, baby, not yet, okay?” he whispered in your ear, trailing his hands down to your centre and slipping his hand under your clothes. “So fucking wet for me, baby. Just for me, right, baby?” His fingers found your clit, and he started rolling it between his fingers. He worked slowly enough to drive you insane, but giving you just enough relief that you couldn’t complain.

“Yes, Spencer, yes, yes it’s all for you. Only for you,” you managed to gasp out. He shifted his hand after a few minutes, still pressing love bites down your chest, claiming you as his in the most animalistic way possible. He spread the wetness that pooled at your core around, making sure that his fingers were coated in you before pushing a single digit into your aching hole, thumb continuing to draw circles around your bundle of nerves.

“That’s my little slut, so desperate for me, so needy for me.” His words shot through you, and you started thrusting your hips up desperate for more friction with his hand. He roughly pushed you back down, pinning you under him with his free hand.

“No, baby, I’m in charge here. You sit back and relax and let me make you feel good,okay?” His words soothed you, the growing heat in the pit of your stomach fizzing in anticipation. His kisses dropped lower and lower, until he was finally pulling off your remaining clothing and replacing his thumb with his lips.

“Fuck Spencer, if you keep doing that, I’m going to-” another sharp intake as he pumped a second finger in and out of you.

“Going to what, baby? Use your words?”

“I’m going to cum, Spencer please, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum.,,” you rode out your high with his face stuffed between your legs still, swallowing your loud moans for fear of the entire neighbourhood knowing just how obsessed you were with this man.

“You did so good for me, baby, so good. I love you so much, okay? I’m going to take care of you from now on, okay?” He began pressing kisses to your mouth again, and you could taste yourself against him now.

“I need you so badly, baby, are you going to let me have you?” He started pulling off his own clothing now, removing his shirt and tie, but never once leaving your embrace for too long.

“I love you so much, baby. I’m sorry for not realising before, but I realise now. I was so terrible to you after Maeve, and god, even before she died I was using you as a therapist to talk through my thoughts and fears, but I was too dense to even realise that I was only in love with Maeve because she was safe. I couldn’t meet her, couldn’t touch her, didn’t have the chance to ruin anything I had with her. I couldn't realise that she wasn’t you, that she wasn’t going to feel like you do in my arms. And maybe some part of me loved her, but we were using each other, and I was using her to avoid confronting how I felt about you.”

“And how I feel for you is different. I am obsessed with you, Y/N. I am so madly in love with you that the last four months have felt like hell. I could have emptied myself of all the blood in my body and still my heart would be beating for you. Do you understand?”

You answered in a chaste kiss on his lips, sweet and quick, but as much as you could muster without driving yourself to the brink of insanity getting yourself high on his touch.

“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want now, okay?” He’d unbuttoned his pants shortly after that and you stared transfixed at the head of his cock poking up and out of them, desperate to see it, touch it, taste it.

“I need you inside of me, Spence, please,” you cried out, tears welling in your eyes at the tender contact, the confession. All the emotions you’d been burying for the last four months bubbling to the surface, dancing around your head as he made you dizzy with desire.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” with the last of his clothing removed he was finally free, taking his heavy,aching cock in his hand and lining himself up with you. With a single thrust, and another confession of love, he gave you what you wanted so much.

“You wanted me like this, baby? So desperate to have my cock inside you?” he plagued you with questions as you adjusted to his size, watching your face for any discomfort as you mumbled out yes after yes.

“Me too, baby. I wanted you just like this, wanted you so desperate and dripping for me that I could slide right in, wanted you like this for me and only me.” He began thrusting then, slowly pumping his cock into you, heavy with each return, the sound of skin slapping against skin joining the ensemble of your moans.

“I love you,” he said again, and with each thrust of his hips, and you responded in kind, matching his thrusts with your own and pressing a kiss into the skin of his shoulders. You were so desperate and needy, so starved of touch and starved of one another that neither of you lasted long. Your bodies were so in sync that as soon as he’d pushed you over the edge for a second time, you could feel him spill himself inside you, filling you completely.

He rolled off you, but didn’t leave you there, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He cleaned you up as much as possible, then folded you back into his arms, holding you again so tenderly that you let the tears flow down your cheeks for a final time.

It was Friday night, and he was here, and he loved you. You weren’t going to let him go again.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #criminal minds smut #requested #🥺 Anon

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dimonds456 · 4 months ago

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Billford and Abuse: An Analysis

Honestly, as someone who ships both Billford and Fiddauthor, the thing I like about the toxic yaoi ship is the fact that it IS toxic. Like, the jokes are great, but its depiction of abuse is so, like... genuine. Without getting personal, I've been in a really fucking bad toxic (platonic) relationship before, and Billford deadass helped me come to terms with it.

Cuz here's the thing: most fictional abusive relationships just start with the abuse itself. It shows the victim and the perpetrator at the height (or almost at the height) of the abuse, and we see as either one of them is destroyed by it or the victim becomes free. But Billford actually shows the WHOLE timeline.

Something that bothers me about a lot of fictional abuse reps is the fact that you cannot sympathize with the victim aside from "aw that's horrible :(". Cuz it just starts AT the abuse. We don't see how they got there or what's causing the victim to stay. We just know they need to escape.

But with Billford, we see EVERYTHING. How it started out as something Ford genuinely loved, seeing Bill as a friend and someone he could trust, how it made him feel better because he was actually making progress on his research and he wasn't lonely anymore.

To Ford during those early days, Bill was the highlight of his time in Gravity Falls. We can follow his train of thought exactly to where he let Bill possess him with basically no strings attached (pun intended).

That's what makes it all the more devastating. Bill isolated Ford from everyone. He sabotaged his friendship with Fiddleford by planting that seed of doubt in the engineer and pulling Ford further and further into his plans. Then the thing with the portal happened and Ford had NOWHERE to go. Plus, Bill kept trying to get Ford to stop thinking about Stan, to move on and let him rot. So he kept planting seeds of doubt in his own brother as well, causing Ford to further and further slip away.

Then Ford confronts Bill. And the monster is unleashed.

Once Bill realizes he's lost control of Ford's devotion and the illusion has shattered, Bill just LEANS into it. In order to take control back, he started tormenting Ford and just being horrible to him, to try and make him fall in line. Love and fear ARE right next to each other in the brain, after all. And there's NOTHING Ford can do but just fall further and further into paranoia.

Bill demonstrates many real-world abusive/manipulative tactics on Ford, the big one being isolation, since that allows the rest of the everything to even happen, but the way he turns Ford against LITERALLY EVERYONE using paranoia is really true to real life.

Now obviously your toxic boyfriend cannot possess random strangers irl. But you know what he CAN do? Start spreading rumors behind your back. Stalk you. Harass you. Make you feel unsafe everywhere except home (which isn't safe either, but it's better than the outside world). He can spend your money or break your things. Slash your tires. In Ford's case, LITERALLY abusing his body. There's the sticky notes, the threats, the roof incident, all of it just piling one atop the other.

I cannot imagine how fucking terrified Ford must have been to finally send that postcard to Stanley. He was at a point where he assumed Stan would hate him, or at the very least wouldn't respond so why even bother, and he'd just gotten the "steal your eyes" threat. He was out of options, and was absolutely sure he was putting Stan in danger by getting him involved (another irl abuse thing that happens).

He was scared to reach out for help because 1) he didn't want others getting hurt (like Fidds had), 2) he was ashamed he'd let this happen, and 3) he, on some level, felt like he deserved this.

Justified? To a paranoid, scared, abused, irrational brain: Absolutely. In reality? Never. But HE'D built that portal. HE'D allowed Bill to possess his body basically freely. HE'D basically helped start the apocalypse. And that shame would have lead to SO much self-hatred and despair.

His reaching out to Stan was his last resort, his only way out. THAT'S what intrigues me about the ship so much.

I do not want them to make up and get back together. They're horrible for each other. But I do enjoy exploring the dynamic of it, fully seeing the cycle and how it happens, and seeing a whole new side to Ford that we only caught a glimpse of in the show and Journal 3. Plus Bill but his side is more comedic and sad to me I do not take him seriously FSDGHJ

The jokes are great and I love it here, but if I ever write a fic or draw art for these two it's going to be toxic as hell man. And not in the fun way fgsjd

#billford #book of bill #the book of bill #book of bill spoilers #bill cipher #stanford pines #ford pines #gravity falls #abuse #tw abuse #abuse tw

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olderthannetfic · 5 months ago

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Why is there now apparently discourse about how listening to audiobooks isn't REAL reading, of course with maximum condescension?

I guess the assumption is that people listen to audiobooks because they don't have the attention span to sit down and focus on reading a book? And that by not forcing themselves to read they're further rotting their brains?

In my experience, choosing audiobooks over written books has everything to do with time and place and very little to do with attention span and preference. Most people listen to audiobooks while driving, doing chores or hobbies, exercising, etc. because they're adults with busy lives who still want to experience books.

Or, they have impaired vision and physically cannot read, in which case this whole argument is especially mean-spirited.

I definitely can have a different experience of a book that way. A good reader can add a lot or things can be harder to follow without seeing how some made-up word is spelled or whatever. But yes, it's a silly form of gatekeeping.

Reading reading is superior because it's one of the fastest ways to input a shitton of information, and it's more likely to teach you spelling and punctuation. But that's it. It won't make you more of an intellectual. It won't mean you're more or less capable of experiencing a book that also has an audio version.

This is the kind of thing we should care about for school kids because, no matter how we go on about different learning styles, the kid who has to use documentary/audio/etc. is going to input half the info of the kid who is good at reading words on a page. Vocabularies suffer, among other obvious signs and issues. (Yes, even if you listen at 2x speed. It's only comparable if you're a slow reader of text, the very thing school wants to address.)

But for an adult trying to do a handsfree activity? For someone savoring a fiction book for entertainment where speed is not a priority and may even be a minus? For someone who actually is a bad reader of text but likes books?

I'm perfectly willing to entertain the semantic argument about what constitutes "reading", but people aren't making a semantic argument: they're saying "You're dumb if you listen instead of using words on a page".

Honestly, aside from pure snobbery, I think a lot of this comes from people whose attention wanders when they listen but who are voracious and unusually capable readers of text. It never occurs to them that other people are more skilled at listening.

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vampiretendencies · 2 years ago

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shy!fem!reader helping jj shave came to mind today, so here’s this brain rot. it’s all i can manage rn, so i gave this like zero effort. requests are open.

cw; fluff, lower case intended

he’s gazing down at you like you invented the stars and the night sky. delicately gliding a sharp razor to his shaving cream-clad jawline, tongue poking outwardly past your bottom lip in concentration. he’d stayed firm in the idea that he couldn’t reach a certain spot, but really it was an excuse to be in the position he is now.

sat atop the bathroom counter, his pretty girl encapsulated between his legs, whilst both his hands strum at the small of your back. smoothing over the skin in rhythmic and medolic patterns, all to assure you that what you were doing was fine and that you weren’t going to hurt him.

he trusted you.

“don’t concentrate so hard baby, s’just peach fuzz.”

your cheeks tainted cherry red, knowing full well he was toying and picking fun at you. but still you couldn’t help it, you were timid tenfold in the fact that you’d fuck this up at any given moment, anxious from jj’s fiery touch against your skin. but even still you didn’t respond, overthinking what he just said and letting it consume you.

“only fucking with you, you’re doing prefect, pretty girl.”

you clear your throat, the sentence that left from his lips erupted inside of you rapidly causing many heartfelt butterflies to erupt like clockwork. you lower your hands, dipping the razor under the faucet, on the verge of shaving the remaining bits of facial hair. until he grabs your wrist, stopping you from shaving the spot thus far.

“you don’t have to take me so seriously …” his raspy voice reminded you, chuckling all at once. you awkwardly peered at the floor that peeked through past jj’s thighs. praying a miracle would whisk you away from this seemingly horrid and cumbersome encounter. and still you choose not to answer, the silence was enough to speak for itself. his large hands travel from the small of your back to cup your cheeks. thumbing over your cheek bones, encouraging you to look at him.

and you do, because how could you resist such a lingering, igniting touch.

there was something so sensational and satisfying about eye contact to jj, especially coming from you, someone that was so distantly shy to begin with but he’d made it his own personal agenda to have you fawning after him.

having a reserved appetite for solely him.

eyes meeting eyes, it seems as though he’s going to slump backward into the bathroom mirror at how doll like your features are painted. God, he wanted to squish your cheeks with the palms of his hands. lips pursing outward, forming a pout that is making jj unable to contain himself.

“oh … uh-okay … i won’t j.” his stomach churns longingly at the harmony of your effortlessly orchestrated voice.

“don’t get all shy on me baby.”

you were melting past his fingertips, eyelashes kissing the tops of your cheeks. and he feels like he’s holding his future in his hands, you that is. gentle and fragile with the one who has his heart. a quirk of his mouth, giving you a mischievous grin. his plump lips on your jaw, your neck, smearing the shaving cream all over you, blonde locks tickling as they followed.

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neonscandal · 10 months ago

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Manga With Me: JJK 0, A Coward's Goodbye

Because these thoughts haunt me while I do my dishes, you have to suffer them too. The brain rot is so insidious, it seeps its way into the mundanity of my life and I've apparently managed to convert a few of you so, in case you missed it, let's talk about the final scene between Gojo and Geto in the JJK 0 movie.

This is the face of a man who thinks he's won the breakup.

⚠️ Spoiler Warning: JJK 0 movie

I feel like I don't have to wax poetic about the details of the JJK 0 movie at this point for everyone to be on the same page. Subsequently, we can all agree on the following:

Gojo realized Geto's plan. 10 years means nothing when you know someone, apparently.

Upon learning of Yuta's lineage and, subsequently, what limits he could potentially surpass, he made a calculated risk and sent Panda and Toge in rather than facing Geto himself. You know, for Yuta's character development.

At the close of their fight and upon the safe escape of Geto’s family, Gojo finds him in the alley. Suggests in equal measure that he could have gone to him at any time in the last 10 years the way he clearly has an AirTag on that ass (and the way he quickly located Riko Amanai post-Toji fight...).

Geto articulates that Gojo intentionally sent Toge and Panda in to trigger Yuta's power up (see above re: 10 years means nothing) to which Gojo isn't exactly forthright in intimating that "it's called trust. People with beliefs like yours won't kill a young sorcerer without reason." to which we get the below panels:

One, the exchange over Yuta's ID. Even in this instance and with ten years of distance between them, they're still so silly. But from Geto's retort, we see that, while Gojo seems to speak broadly, Geto knows Gojo's generalization is meant to be received rather specifically. This leads us to this last panel:

... COULD HE NOT JUST HAVE SAID

"I NEVER HATED YOU."

- Suguru Geto

We KNOW Geto assumed that his defection was the end of their friendship. He had to believe there was no going back in order to propel himself forward. But how incredibly sad that, even at the imminent close of his life, he couldn't be honest or direct about his guilt or his affection?

So he died. Too proud to reconcile properly with Gojo. Sheepishly thinking Gojo had hated him during those ten years, barring whatever his censored last words may have been. It's something we don't see resolved until much, much later and only in what I assume to be the inner machinations of Gojo's head. Is that not devastating? Does this realization deserve a place on THE LIST!? Of course it does.

Friendly reminder that Gojo gets jump scared by Geto’s corpse in Shibuya where they recognize same-sex unions.

#manga with me #manga with me jjk #satosugu #we are the strongest #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #suguru geto #geto suguru #satosugu brainrot #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #stsg #satosugu angst #jjk brainrot #jjk angst #meta #jjk meta #satosugu meta

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kwamiwayzz · 1 month ago

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Do you have any jeckole Headcanons?

Or:

Jecka Headcanons/Nicole Headcanons (seperatly)

<33

Brain rot coming in. I also want to mention that a majority of these headcanons are rooted in my “Jeckole moving away after graduation and eventually healing years later despite still being a bit fucked up” headcanon. Some headcanons are also inspired by the ones from people who were once super active in the fandom months ago.

Jecka ends up getting accepted to a university in California which leads to her ticket out of her shitty town (she starts with Undecided for some time but ends up choosing pre-med to eventually become a doctor).

Nicole ends up tagging along with her out of convenience at first (she was a bit hesitant at first because she knows she’ll probably bring Jecka down whatever bullshit she gets herself into, but it beats being alone). She also ends up moving out with Jecka because LA is where she’s wanted to go for some time. Also, her mom was actually planning on kicking her out for good (even though her loser brother still gets to freeload).

I personally see Nicole as someone who suffers from extreme depression and self-worth issues due to her upbringing and is more on the cusp of having ASPD (but also, I’m still learning about ASPD, so correct me if it doesn’t work that way).

Jecka has the capability of becoming as fucked up and abusive as her dad. I mostly say this from the scene in Flip Side where she yells at Crispin telling him to off himself, unprovoked.

I also see Jecka as a potential alcoholic with anger issues (if she stayed with her dad any further).

Nicole has a form of cPTSD from her unstable environment and the implication that one of her stepfathers abused her. Even if she were to be placed in a stable environment after high school, the damage has already been done, and she’d still find ways to fuck it up because she every time she felt genuinely a little happy/satisfied with her living situation, it would disappear in puff of smoke.

Nicole ends up on meds and therapy years after moving out of Virginia, but it’s off-and-on.

Jecka also goes on meds and therapy after having a mental breakdown in med school and also after shoving Nicole against a book case during one of their arguments (she’s more consistent with it than Nicole).

During their time living in LA together, Nicole goes homeless three separate times, with one of them being her getting kicked out after Jecka finally had enough of her shit. The last time Nicole goes homeless, it’s after having an extremely difficult time adjusting to the meds and therapy and her cPTSD makes her want to leave because actual stability was getting too real for her.

Despite kicking her out for her bullshit, Jecka still lets Nicole live with her because she’s still codependent on her. Nicole is one of the few people she can be her fucked up self around, and also asked her to come to LA because she didn’t want to be alone either.

Nicole is 1/4 Asian on her dad’s side.

Following Progman’s fic, Jecka sees herself as Nicole’s savior but not entirely in an “I can fix her” type of way.

The only people from high school they still keep in touch with is Emily, with Kelly and Ari added after meeting again at a bar a decade later.

Even though Jecka’s doctor money keeps them both afloat, Nicole ends up working at a bar as a consistent job just to keep herself busy.

The only person from Jecka’s family that she keeps in touch with is her mom. She stays in contact with her dad for financial reasons, but cuts him off after she doesn’t need him anymore.

Nicole cuts off everyone from her family.

Nicole ends up getting sleeve tattoos after being sober from cutting for a significant period of time (I don’t know what the designs would be though).

aurawra21 also mentioned this, but Nicole would probably lean more towards a masc/butch look years after high school. This would include chopping her hair to shoulder length.

I also agree with the general headcanon that Jecka would have abs and have a more toned body compared to Nicole’s stick noodle-like figure.

Nicole would be the type to throw Jecka’s textbook out the window to force her to take a break while studying for med school.

Nicole is a secret nerd/geek (knowing that manga should be read from right to left, liking Mythbusters, used to play video games with her brother—all mentioned somewhere in the original game and Re-Up).

If she cared about school more, Nicole’s favorite subject would probably be chemistry.

Jecka sometimes gets very overprotective over Nicole especially after 1) getting shot by the crazy cop (Re-Up), 2) having nightmares of running to Nicole too late during the People Pleaser Route (Class of ‘09 Suicide Ending), 3) finding out Nicole overdosed/got poisoned by opioids during the very last time she went homeless (Future Timeline headcanon).

I sometimes see Jecka as a pretty neurotic person, who tries and fails to hide it.

When really affectionate, Jecka really loves to kiss Nicole’s neck (angsty reasons in one of my original posts lol).

The two simultaneously make each other better and worse.

They enter an off-and-on situationship for a number of years until they decide to get court married for the benefits.

They wear fake marriage rings when out in public in an effort to try and ward off desperate men. It doesn’t always work, but they’ll never admit to each other that they actually do like wearing them.

Aaaannnddd these are the most that I’ve remembered at the top of my head. I might add more as time goes on, but I love the idea of them reaching adulthood and becoming somewhat more well-adjusted over time.

#turtle speaks #Turtleask #class of 09 #Jeckole #i love them your honor

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cruyuu · 5 months ago

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Hi!

My thoughts about what I'm about to point out aren't coherent yet but you're the first person I thought of when it came to me

So Yuuji's still missing his left pinky finger after Sukuna changed vessel and RCT can't fix that because that's a piece of Yuuji's soul that was ripped off

And now I'm following the theory that the finger in the last panel is the one that was imbued in Yuuji from birth that he removed himself through his ring finger

And in my brain it's like 'there's some skit bs going on here' and idk if I'm making sense because I'm not sure of where this is going 😅 but with the left ring finger being associated with engagements and weddings getting rind of the last piece of the other's soul through that finger could be akin to throwing away your wedding ring (the divorce era is real) but maybe they've rotten my brain a bit too much

In any case I'm looking forward to any thoughts you have on this chapter (and thank you for reading my ramblings) <3

Hi there anon!

I love your thought process and the fact that you remembered that! It would be extremely fitting (even if far-fetched for those who are not as insane as we are) because they just big sigh. They just have to act like that and be that way lol. I wouldn't put it past our dear author who delivered a lot on sukuita week no less (that is still some crazy coincidence) to again make something about them both. If not the finger, then the soul connection, if not that then something else. Like Gege definitely didn't need to write Yuuji chasing after his inner demon and spending time with him (hell, saying he was frantic and wanting Sukuna to indulge him), especially not when that same demon is someone who continually kept ruining his life and took the very person Yuuji confessed he feels lonely without, but here we are.

I'm waiting for the official chapter to drop so I can really get the whole picture since leaks are just a tiny piece. Shipping aside, I don't know what to make of that panel with Sukuna's finger. jjk is pretty close to ending now and hence, I am skeptical. I really wish for there to be another arc after Shinjuku because it feels very off to me to end everything in like two more chapters. I'm hoping for more because it still feels like there's more left. Maybe I'm just insane and will be missing this manga a lot which is why I'm sensing that, idk.

Divorce arc has never been realer now and it's lowkey slightly painful to me since Yuuji wanted a compromise. What's very fucking funny still is that Yuuji reached out to him, first and foremost, realized he can't affect him (that sad look in his eyes) and then switched back to his usual response. Meanwhile Sukuna's still pretending he doesn't care even though he indulged Yuuji and spent nearly an entire day with him before he finally snapped when he realized Yuuji was sad about him lol. Still, the vehement anger Sukuna feels is keeping me rather well fed because Sukuna has no business being so against Yuuji saving Megumi. Like why?? He had no trouble being patient and even explaining his viewpoint when Yuuji DE-ed them away and talked about himself, but then the second Yuuji mentioned saving Fushiguro, he's shaking with rage and promising to kill everyone Yuuji loves.

Chapter 265 is literally:

yuuji: spend some time with me

sukuna: ok

yuuji: so here's what i realized

sukuna: why are you telling this to me oh my god i don't care like i understand your point but i don't feel anyth—

yuuji: i want to save fushiguro

sukuna: 😡🤬😡🤬😠😠🤬😡🤬😡😠🤬 (that wasn't meant for me?!?!?!?!)

I am also brain rotting hard about everything. 266 fueled my brain and filled it with one-sided sukuita fic ideas which are just peak angst and I live for angst so yeah. I'll have to get to writing soon because I have a lot of ideas for these two (the writers block is keeping me away from that, as is my slightly limited english vocabulary and real life unfortunately).

Thank you for sending this ask, anon, and also thank you for listening to me ramble about these two as well! <3 I'm more than happy to discuss these two for eternity because they just make me insane.

#melanswers #sukuita

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honeyhotteoks · 4 months ago

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oh my god yesssss the most recent chapter of tnt had my tongue pressed to my teeth the entire time i was like entralllllledddd PLEASE !!!

not to be nosy (or pushy ><) but do you have any thoughts about rut for tnt? like for both the main trio and general world building im sure it would be a lot of logistics and potentially a lot of emotional labor to plot out (like one of them getting kicked out or something because the other is going nuts oof) but also its rotting my brain from the inside out and i need to tell someone else about it x_x

like for yunho, who is typically warm and affable, is now pushed to the edge when faced with the reality of his near insurmountable want. like he has such a finely controlled and cool grip on himself but its so obvious that hes like hungry for it in the force behind his grip. just imagining him like being an ever-present pillar behind mc, firmly talking her through what hes going to do as he chases after whatever his brain comes up with, that she can and will take his pace and whatever he gives because shes just the best and he just loves her so much because hes a romantic like that. yeah hehe haha hoo hoo lol maybe even an lmao im also tipsy and slamming my head into a wall over him have a good night

!! oh what a great question! but thank you for saying you loved the new chapter as well 💘

as far as yunho and mingi in a rut................ click below the cut for a few thoughts....

the lovely part about being in a pack, especially later on when they're actually bonded..... is that ruts wouldn't necessarily send the non-rutting alpha out of the house. with that being the case..... these are some of my rut headcanons for the boys.

yunho in a rut is possessive, protective and has a serious jealous streak. in the week leading up to his rut his hands are constantly on you, squeezing your hips, brushing along your back, and taking your hand in his. the only person that seems to be able to talk to you without him going just a little feral is mingi, even wooyoung isn't safe from his ire when he gives you a hug after practice. when his rut actually starts though, his resolve really starts to crumble, and you don't help him stay in control when you're begging him for a knot underneath him. he tries his best at first to be mindful of you, but he also knows that's what mingi is here for. he's watching over so that you can both lose yourself, and when yunho finally lets go it's with a bruising grip and his cock endlessly inside you. you stay stretched on his knot for days, his cum spilling into you over and over again, promises of pups on yunho's lips.

mingi in a rut is needy, times a thousand, but it doesn't start that way. it starts with him fussing over you in the week or so leading up to his rut in a way that you just know what's in store for you. he's cooking, he's refilling your water, he's trying to get you to sleep more, eat more, relax more. he's following you around constantly and subconsciously in an effort to prepare you for the week to come. ruts can be hard on omegas not in heat, and he knows this, so of course he's going to make sure you're as healthy and hydrated as possible before getting locked in bed. once it hits? he's a grabby mess, he needs every inch of his pack's skin against his. he wants yunho holding you open for him so he can see you both, feel you both. he kisses like its the last time he'll ever get to, and he alternates between coming deep inside you with a knot and painting your skin with rope after rope of his cum. he needs to see you covered by him, full of him, and fully owned by him for his rut to break.

#answered anon #this night together headcanon #tnt headcanon #tnt ask

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yuerikoko · 4 months ago

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So…

I can’t believe it took me 3 years to be able to say it out loud but—

Old woman yuri.

(Or at least one-sided gay pining at the very most)

(Apologies for the lack of good screenshots, I just started replaying WE recently since my Angela brain rot is coming back)

———

Okayy so I want to confess: I initially wrote a fic about them because I wanted a wlw equivalent to Jars from S3 so then I thought about them— and thus came a slow burn fic (actually a 1k word one shot because it was part of a one shot book in Wattpad I had back then) I made of them in 2021 in an AU where Lars was the mole for the sake of making the ship sail. The one shot has been deleted, unfortunately, and as of now I might not have plans to rewrite it : (

Anyways I started shipping them seriously after I wrote that fic (I still like Angelars and Carchelle tho!) and the more I read into their interactions, the more I realized just how much untapped potential their relationship has (PS knew they would be too powerful so they had to make Angela the mole with little to no buildup until literally two cases before IPS/s). Also incoming ramble about them since barely anyone talks about them:

Their interactions, while few, are super wholesome and have a special place in my heart as someone who’s skimmed through the transcripts for either Angela’s appearances OR their interactions. No one talks about how Carmen, while usually hotheaded and quick to action, constantly praises Angela and is really patient with her enough. And as @celestiarambles has pointed out in their analysis of their relationship, Carmen has only gotten mad at Angela ONCE for a reason that wasn’t out of concern for her well-being and it was because she was flirting with Lars in front of her. (Could it be because she wasn’t being serious? Or could it be out of envy? We may never know, unfortunately…)

Likewise, I see so much potential to be explored when it comes to their interactions: Carmen teaching Angela photography after having very nicely for some reason (I bet 50 bucks that if it were Jack or Lars it’d be different) told her she sucked, them discussing parenting tips, and character studies of their relationships. Or if we were to enter fic territory, their pre-canon/post-canon dynamic is also an interesting idea to think about, or maybe an AU where they could end up together (Mole!Lars seems like the easiest way tho). Fic writers, I call upon thee to make this wish of mine come true/j

Their personalities also complement each other very well : D. While both show clear work ethic and seriousness in their work, they also complement each other. Carmen is tough, hotheaded and started off as distrustful at us in the beginning of WE, being focused on her work first and foremost, while Angela is much more calm, patient and initially warm and family-oriented. This also leads to some interesting parallels as they almost become each other’s core traits by the end of WE: Carmen having grown more motherly and caring after having Sanjay, whilst Angela grew distrustful and cynical, likely due to her pledged loyalty to SOMBRA, which lead her to follow their orders so devotedly that she was actually willing to blow us up.

The fact that the transition from the main plot of IPS to the AI has Carmen change facial expressions from holding a straight face to being sad/disappointed. It could’ve been Ripley, who was upset at the loss of one of their most competent members by the hands of the organization she swore to destroy. It could’ve been Jack, who was upset for Lars— his best friend, and they did have some nice interactions, too. But the fact that Carmen of all people was chosen for this, despite the fact that her relationship with Angela wasn’t either of their most important (Lars to Angela and Sanjay/Elliot to Carmen /platonically btw), did make for an interesting choice.

Also not related to canon but fun fact: my hc of Carmen nicknaming Angela “Angie” actually came from that one fic I wrote XD

And don’t get me started on the way they also fit into so many tropes at once:

Birds of a feather: Both of them are hardworking, serious and devoted to their work, but are shown to also care about the people around them, especially children and young people.

Red oni, Blue oni/Opposites Attract: Despite their similarities, Carmen is more hot-tempered and impatient, while Angela is known to be more calm and reserved.

Coworker yuri: do I even need to explain myself…

Brains and Brawn: Angela is shown to be really intelligent (you do not just forget a Nobel prize in biology) and it is also shown when she almost succeeded in deceiving us into thinking anyone but her was the mole. On the other hand, Carmen is more prone to action and violence (the fact that PS barely put out a moment in which she lets her badass personality shine and is almost always rescued by Jonah is a huge sin against humanity). Their jobs also reflect this in a way.

Pair the smart ones: Angela with her academic expertise in biology and Carmen with her field experience in journalism.

Battle couple: Most of the points I stated for Carmen earlier apply, along with the fact that we learn that Angela takes military training in the finale.

Dating Catwoman: Can somewhat apply post-canon, or after Angela has been outed.

Morality pet: To Carmen, since Angela is one of the few people she rarely ever gets mad at that wasn’t a child or teenager.

You (he) never did that for me: For Angela. An example was in Case 8 where she had went missing for hours and Lars was only like “hey guys my wife went missing” while Carmen actually went to go look for her.

Not so Different: Aside from their personalities, their character arcs also reflect this as discussed earlier. Carmen’s warm and motherly side gets to show itself later on with Angela still around, while the finale also shows Angela loyal to SOMBRA and being colder and meaner towards the Bureau, showing this sense of superiority(?) over their respective allegiances similar to Carmen in the early cases (and also throughout, to an extent) of the season.

Complementary colors: Red and green. Need I say more?

OKAY THIS WAS A LOT— it took me a whole hour to type this up but I wanted to get these two out of my head rq also as a means of unwinding from exam stress (will probably disappear into the shadows again after this). Please do correct me for any inaccuracies, though ^^

#criminal case #criminal case game #criminal case world edition #carmen martinez #angela douglas #old woman yuri #carmangela #?#need to know what y’all think their ship name shld be #rambles

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kalak · 2 years ago

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Au where luke naberrie is taken hostage by the empire to ensure naboo's loyalty. But it's not like he's tortured or mistreated, he's treated like a guest, he just can't.. leave, that's all.

Vader knows Luke is his son because of that last name, but luke doesn't know. And luke's a lil bit scared of vader at first because Darth Vader, holy kriff, but vader's generally nice to him and gives him gifts so Luke's like... he's not that bad I guess? Vader comes over whenever he has free time and luke's like oh hey lord Vader wanna hear some court gossip

But Vader's been planning to commit treason and dethrone palpatine, just like he did in rots. He doesn't have any intention to rule himself, he's more likely to pledge loyalty to someone he trusts and follow them to hell, like he wanted to do with padme. So vader, knowing that luke is his son, knowing that luke is a good kid - one day just. Kills palpatine and presents his decapitated head to luke. And luke, obviously, is like what the FUCK lord Vader.

While luke did want palpatine dead he's disgusted by the way vader shows his affections. It's like - luke is a normal person who grew up with a normal family, whereas vader's been in a master-slave dynamic for 20 years and also didn't really have good healthy attachments even before then, so the way he acts towards someone he loves is just like a cat bringing back dead birds to their owner. Except in this case, it's bringing back annoying imp's heads to present to luke.

So luke's like ok. Ok. Calm down. Lord vader's a bit crazy in the head but I can use this. But after a few months he realizes that vader will only obey him in a way he wants to, if vader thinks it'll be 'detrimental' to luke's happiness he'll go behind his back. And since vader still firmly believes in the empire and all that stuff, and because his way of love is off, there emerges an irreconcilable gap between them - and eventually luke decides to pack up his followers and leave to the rebellion.

But Vader catches him before he can go! But vader looks so. sad? He looks so sad and broken and tired and is like why are you leaving I thought we were doing so well.

And luke's the one who flips out and goes well if you actually listened to me instead of bringing back heads and spoils of war, I'd maybe listen to you! And vader does the father reveal then, being like as your father I have the responsibility to protect you- and luke's brain just grinds to a halt and is like wait. Wait. Wait. And vader's looking suspiciously like a kicked puppy rn and also he's flashing back to all the times they laughed together and Luke's like ugh FINE you come aboard the escape shuttle too. And they join the rebellion together and Luke teaches him how to be a normal person

#yeah this became long as fuck releasing it into the wild goodbye baby #star wars #luke skywalker #darth vader #my ramblings #star wars headcanons

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godlytemperance · 1 year ago

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npmd headcanons because my brain is rotted <3 <3

heehee hoohoo i am rotating the entirety of hatchetfield in my brain

im updating this as i think of more stuff so bear with me if this gets stupidly long

richie has audhd. i know this because he is me i am him we are EACH OTHER /j

ruth and richie met in the anime section of barnes and noble in middle school and nearly screamed when they realized they were going to the same high school later on

steph is lactose intolerant and is not brave about it ever. tries to share a hot chocolate with pete and spends the next three hours miserable

grace is doomed to kill in every timeline but it can be prevented by her best friends keeping her too occupied with mundane nonsense for her to find a gun

richie has so much tboy cringe energy. that man kins sasuke you cannot tell me i'm wrong

i have hit them all with my transgender and gay beam >:3c they're the friend group that hit their gender and sexuality realizations in waves. someone's egg cracked first (richie) and it set off a chain reaction

pete is genderfluid and usually presents masc (he/they)

bi with no strong preference either way

only recently began to dabble with femininity in his gender presentation

steph is gnc transmasc (he/she, used interchangeably)

bi with a masc preference

no matter who you are, if you have a crush on steph, you're gay. them's the rules pal

richie is transmasc (he/it)

aroace spectrum! he's demi on both ends, fluctuates pretty often.

somehow incredibly perceptive to romance unless it directly involves him, then he's as dense as a brick

ruth is a girlthing because she's swag like that (she/it/they)

pan with a fem preference

her preferred type is pathetic mascs and intimidating fems

grace is fem-presenting nonbinary (she/they)

formerly closeted lesbian

had the WORST case of comphet until she realized she didn't necessarily have to be attracted to MEN to be attracted to masculinity :3

max is transfem (she/he)

she's a butch lesbian!!! she doesn't feel pressured to be hyper-feminine after realizing she's trans, because she's already pretty happy with her outward presentation

saw all her new friends going through their various gender and sexuality realizations and is just "i hope this doesn't awaken anything in me :)" (it did)

OH also paul is richie's uncle! richie's dad is paul's older brother. they don't interact much but it is literally Autism to Autism

if the group were to fall victim to any of the Lords in Black, it'd probably be as follows:

max - wiggly. rage hatred biting nightmare nightmare >:3

steph - nibbly. he's got the closest ties to the CotSC and also we need more nibbly rep

pete - tinky. duh. probs gets trapped in the box in timelines where steph dies before him and he desperately wants to bring her back

richie - blinky. idk it's just vibes to me. he seems like the kind of guy to go nuts for eye symbolism

ruth - pokey. she's a theater kid and i think that pokey would have a field day shoving her into the fucked up and evil spotlight

grace - all of them. they take turns babysitting her in various timelines. she is their favorite child

richie 100% uses anime terminology to describe normal ass situations. he calls steph a tsundere once and steph has to act like her world wasn't just shifted two inches to the left for the rest of the day

oh also in redemption timelines they have movie / bingewatch nights!! they cycle between everyone's favorite shows or films. it's the best part of their week every single time

max was cast as a leading role the one and only time she ever auditioned for theater and it freaked her out so much that she declined the role

richie's hair is Like That because he tried to get the cool anime spiky hairstyle to work for him (it didn't) (he doesn't realize this until college)

pete was a greek mythology girlie i just know this. something about him screams "i read percy jackson way too much as a kid"

also grace hand embroiders all her clothes as a hobby! (this is semi-canon, since she has embroidered strawberries on the cuffs of her jeans in the show)

the first time steph smoked ouid, he made the mistake of using cbd oil and a pipe at the same time. man was in SPACE

all of them are poly with each other but at different levels:

steph and pete are Dating dating. so are max and grace. wholesome yaoi VS toxic yuri

ruth and steph are almost definitely "best friends" in the historical sense

richie and ruth are qpp. if they were both 100% straight they'd probably be the most annoying couple in the world

pete and richie kiss sometimes but its genuinely platonic for them. just bros being bros

ruth and pete are friends to ??? to lovers to friends who cuddle sometimes

richie and steph are polar opposites but they love each other to death. black cat and orange cat kind of relationship

max and grace barely intersect with the nerds but they still consider all four of them to be part of their weird situationship

(grace definitely experimented with all four of them, with max's permission. just to be Sure. y'know.)

max is doing her best to make amends with the nerds but it is very slow going. she has gotten to casual fistbump level with them though!

the nerds usually just look at max and grace from the sidelines like they're watching two wild beasts circling each other in their enclosure. their flirting is NOT rated pg

richie unintentionally dropped the fact that he has a fursuit - a timberwolf, because i'm projecting - and ended up helping everyone design their fursonas. pete is a traditional chimera (goat, snake, and lion), steph is a plain black cat, ruth is a flemish giant rabbit (she did research), grace is a sheep, and max is a checkered-tail nighthawk.

any time that the group gets spam calls, all they have to do is hand the phone to ruth and they get taken off the lists the moment she speaks. ruth was frustrated by it at first but it became a game of "how many companies can i inconvenience before they stop calling hatchetfield numbers entirely"

steph braided pete's hair once and he damn near proposed on the spot

ruth knows how to sew (from doing tech) and helps teach max how to mend her clothes! max ends up being really good at it! she goes on to teach the entire football team how to fix their uniforms and ruth ends up being the honorary team favorite for at least a year

im taking jon matteson's "richie should have blue hair in a movie version of NPMD" and fucking sprinting with it. he dyes his hair at least once a year and it's a wildly different color every time

ruth is the kind of gal to love games with lots of violence because it makes her feel like a badass vigilante (she can barely do a push-up in real life) (just like me)

steph is deeply afraid of large bodies of water. major L on his part seeing as he lives on a fucking island

bouncing off of the above hc, pete's afraid of planes. these two can't travel out of hatchetfield without one of them nearly shaking out of their own skin

max doesn't actually like football that much. she's REALLY good at it, yeah, but she'd prefer to play most other sports even if she isn't good at them! she likes the challenge of doing something she won't automatically win!

grace probably writes lists of things to keep everything in order. she's got lists of all her favorite foods, a checklist of daily chores, etc etc (it's also because she's got undiagnosed autism and she functions better when she has a Routine)

no matter what, pete will always stop and talk to the homeless man downtown. he doesn't really know why, though. (ted wishes he could say something to pete, but he never does. best to keep him at arms length.)

ruth really really really reeaaaally wants to cosplay but she's nervous that she'll be deemed as the "cringy weirdo" by other con-goers. she eventually admits this to richie, who rallies the group into a group cosplay for moral support

it takes a lot of debate for them to find a fandom they all want to cosplay from. they settled on FNAF, specifically security breach bc it's Timely (they go to the con in 2022)

pete is glamrock freddy, steph is monty, ruth is glamrock chica, and max is roxy!

richie was glamrock bonnie and he gets so mad when the official design comes out a year later bc it was completely different than what he imagined

grace eventually agrees to dress up as vanessa (she never played the games) (she thinks the pizzaplex is a real animatronic mall) (everyone they meet thinks she's method acting)

they end up crashing at ruth's place absolutely DRAINED. they all have imprints on their arms from carrying around an absurd amount of merch. pete nearly started a fistfight in the parking lot with a bakugo cosplayer. max nearly finished it.

they all agreed that it was one of the best things they've ever done and also to Never Do It Again

richie had a brief phase where he was obsessed with black butler and he regrets it to this day

grace and max both have scary dog energy but in different directions. max (post-transition) looks really intimidating at first glance but she's got golden retriever energy. grace will stare at you with the scariest fucking eyes if you're mean to retail employees

steph has always wanted a pet, but her dad never allowed it. when he moves out and gets an apartment with the nerds, they all agree to rescue a pair of bonded cats for his birthday. steph doesn't stop crying for at least an hour

steph and pete named one of the cats, while ruth and richie picked the other one's name.

Mittens is the Lautski baby, a black and white girlie who is incapable of mischief. she's like the disney ideal of a cat. she's a cuddle monster and will be so sad if you have to get up and do things without her

ruth and richie are the proud coparents of Sir Jotaro Gooberton (the Third). he is the most stupid tabby you will ever meet in your life and he has made the crime rate in the household go up tenfold.

a very common Lautski date night is going to the candle section of walmart and just sniffing every single one of those bad boys until they get a headache

#richie lipschitz #ruth fleming #stephanie lauter #peter spankoffski #grace chasity #grace chastity #max jagerman #nerdy prudes must die #hatchetfield #headcanons #the wolf barks

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jut-and-dae-enthusiast · 2 years ago

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You Feel Like //h.j.s

pairing: idol!jisung x fem!reader I genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers I Warnings: talk of anxiety, mention of sasaengs (kinda just wanted to be sure to put it here), use of pet names (baby, lovey), mc gets very drunk, im experiencing hanji brain rot and this is the product, y/n is written from the perspective of being plus sized but it's not a plot point bc it doesn't need to be :)

word count: 4.8k

a/n: hello everyone! Just a heads up in case it isn't explained well enough in the beginning here: the use of the name "Han" is in reference to like his stage name, while "Jisung" is in reference to him as just a normal human. Apologies if that gets confusing but I thought the idea was cool. :) Also the title comes from this song, as I feel like the song fits the vibe. titles are hard. thank you. i love u.

reblogs and comments are always appreciated :)

If you spent any amount of time with him, you would know there are two very distinct sides to Han Jisung.

First, there was Han. This is where the performer side of him lived. The side that everyone knew. The cocky faces he makes when he dances, the way he raps like he could bring any person in the room to their knees in that moment. A loud voice, drawing the whole room’s attention to him with a laugh that almost immediately followed anything he said. Witty and funny, goofy and smiley. This is Han.

Then, there’s Jisung. This is where the domestic side of him lived. The side that only those closest to him had the honor of seeing. Quiet mornings, gentle humming as he writes lyrics on notebook paper or napkins or anything a pen could mark. A dark room with only soft fairy lights and a tv screen playing his favorite anime or kdrama. Cozy hoodies and soft smiles, content in the calmness. Wide eyes and puffy cheeks, still goofy but only because that’s who he is. This is Jisung.

Your first encounter, of course, was with Han. It was a Friday night and you had gone to do karaoke with some friends to try and blow off steam. After hours of screaming your favorite songs, you were ready to go home. Your friends, however, were still going steady. So, you decided to step out for a moment. Stepping out of the room, you heard a group making their way down the opposite hall, the one in front loudly cracking jokes. You could see some dyed hair poking out from the bottom of his beanie, threatening to fall into his eyes. To your horror, you realized they had looped back around and were now coming directly towards you. Unsure of what to do, you turned and faced the wall, hoping they would just glide past you the way all groups of attractive men tended to. You saw the group move on and sighed with relief, turning back around. However, you were suddenly face to face with the loud one in the beanie. You blinked in surprise, expecting him to have been with his little gang.

“You okay?” He asks softly, scanning your face carefully. His eyes were so big it seemed like they were drinking you in even though he wasn’t trying. He’s really pretty, you thought to yourself, back pressed gently to the wall. He gave you a look as if to ask you again and you nodded, clearing your throat gently.

“Yes! Uh, just taking a little break. They’re hard to keep up with.” You point to the door and, as if they could sense it, your friend tried to hit a high note that sounded like a cry of pain. The stranger chuckled, looking down at his feet while nodding.

“I just… I felt like you needed someone to check in with you. People don’t usually stand with their nose pressed to the wall.” He teased a bit, holding back a smirk. Your cheeks flushed pink, head turning to look down the hall in an effort to conceal it.

“Well, thanks… for noticing.” You mutter, clenching your trembling fingers into a fist.

“Han! What’re you doing?” A voice called from a room down the hall.

“I’ll be just a sec!” He called back and sighed. “I didn’t catch your name. As you heard, I’m Han. Actually Han Jisung. My friends call me either of those. Or both. Or whatever.” He rambled and you could see the tips of his ears dusting pink.

“I’m y/n.” You replied softly, a smile resting on your lips as you watched him, intrigued.

“I hope we meet again, y/n.” He smiled wide and you nearly melted. Everything about him was radiant. He turned to walk down the hall and you felt him slipping from your fingers. You knew you would never meet him again. That this must have been some type of divine intervention, bringing you two together.

“W-wait!” You called after him, causing him to turn and look at you curiously. You reached into your purse and frantically dug for a pen and some sort of paper. You pulled out an old receipt and scribbled your phone number on the back along with your name. “I don’t think fate will be kind enough to shove us together like this again.” You breathed as you handed the paper to him, face red. He looked down at your extended hand and a smile twitched on his lips. After thinking for a moment, he nodded and pocketed the paper gently, flashing you a smile.

“I’ll text you, y/n.” He said softly before turning and disappearing into the room with his friends. You slowly made your way back to your own group, trying to catch your breath. Your friends were oblivious, telling you to sing this group song with them. You nodded and grabbed a tambourine, trying to not obsess over the question of whether Han had already texted you or not.

It was late when you finally got home, phone securely in your hand. You even turned the ringer on, which you never did, so that you wouldn’t miss his message. However, no message came that night. Or in the morning. Or even over the next few days. You had become convinced that he’d just thrown the paper away when your phone pinged.

Unknown Number: hey sorry it took a sec but this is han

y/n: oh hey! Its ok haha no worries

Han: also thanks for giving me ur number. I was too scared to ask for it fr.

y/n: lol glad to know i wasnt the only one

You grew fairly close with him from that moment, the two of you texting almost constantly.

The first time you hung out with Han, he had invited you to hang out with him and his friends (which you found out meant his bandmates) at his apartment. When you found the apartment building, you tried to enter but the door was locked. Pulling out your phone, you called Han.

“Hey! You aren’t lost, right?” Han greeted and you could perfectly imagine the smile on his face.

“No, I’m at your building. I just can’t get in.” You explained, looking up the side as if you could see him.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. We have to keep our building extra secure, especially after an incident we had a bit ago.” You could hear the way even thinking about it made him anxious, whatever it was. “I’m coming down to let you in, so give me like three minutes.”

“Okay, I’m timing you.” You teased and could hear him breathe out a laugh.

“I better hurry then, huh?” He laughed and you heard the elevator ding in the background. When he arrived at the door, he pushed it open and flashed you a wide smile.

“Two minutes and forty seconds. Close call, Jisung.” You chuckled as you walked through the open door, falling in step beside him quietly.

“I think the elevator deserves all of the credit for that.” He shrugs, pushing the call button and standing beside you with his hands in his pockets. “Thanks for coming, by the way.” He smiled softly, looking at you with happy eyes.

“Thanks for inviting me.” You responded softly, taking note of the static feeling between the two of you. It was tugging, drawing you in with every breath. The sharp ding of the elevator arriving drew you back to reality, light from the empty elevator flooding into the dark lobby. Han gestures for you to go first, bowing politely.

His apartment was near the top of the building, so the elevator ride was quiet. But, somehow, it wasn’t awkward. Silence with him felt comfortable, safe almost. He seemed to have realized at the same time, looking at you with a wondering expression. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but was cut off by the opening of the elevator doors.

The apartment was definitely one men lived in, if you can believe that. You chuckled to yourself at the corner of the room dedicated to various at-home workout equipment. But it absolutely could have been worse.

“Guys, this is my friend y/n. She was the one I met at karaoke a couple weeks ago.” Han introduced you to the group. The group all greeted you with soft smiles from where they were and invited you over to sit with them. You recognized some of their faces from the videos you had seen, but it was a little overwhelming trying to learn who was who. Felix eagerly scooted beside you and started talking with you, which you were grateful for. Han sat on the other side of you even though he was fully engaged in a conversation with Hyunjin. Han was the light in the room and everyone was drawn into it, laughing heartily at his jokes or hanging on his every word when he told a story. They teased him, of course, as friends do, and he would loudly defend himself and make everyone laugh again.

You sat back quietly and observed, taking note of the dynamics that naturally lived in the group. Started to pick out the ones who subconsciously stuck together, who people directed their conversations towards most often. It was fascinating, so much so that you didn’t even notice Han looking towards you and asking you a question. He poked your knee gently, drawing your attention back on him.

“You good?” He whispered, looking for any sign of anxiety or discomfort on your face. When you nodded happily, you saw his shoulders loosen. “I’m getting another drink, do you want anything?” His voice was soft, as if he didn’t want the others to be in this conversation. Not that any of them even cared or noticed, too wrapped up in eachother.

“I’ll have whatever you get.” You smile a bit wider at the way he strongly considers what that choice should be. He stands and walks towards the kitchen, humming a tune you can’t quite place.

“Y/n, what do you do for work?” Chan asked softly from across the small table, clearly wanting you to feel welcome even when Han isn’t in the room.

“Oh, I’m a preschool teacher.” You nod, suddenly aware of all the eyes on you.

“That’s so cute. Do you do lots of fingerpainting?” Felix asks from your other side. You chuckle and shake your head.

“It’s way too messy and all of these kids wear clothes that are worth more than I make in two years.” They nod, the conversation coming to a lull.

“Ooo, y/n tell them about the craft project you guys did last week.” Han sits beside you and sets a can of soda in front of you that’s identical to his. You dive into a story about popsicle sticks and pipe cleaners and trying to explain the term ‘structural integrity’ to four year olds. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Han watching you carefully. Hanging on your every word just like everyone does for him. Even though he’s heard it all before, he laughs and smiles and nods. Once the attention slides away from you and they disburse back into their own little conversations, you try to be part of one between Han and Jeongin but soon realize that Jeongin is talking with Chan. You trail off, awkwardly looking down at your hands. “Hey, keep going. I’m listening.” You hear Han encourage softly, bumping your arm gently with his drink. You look up at him and smile gratefully, launching back into the tale of the time you were chased by an angry lizard and Han is completely invested with wide eyes.

The first time you hung out with Jisung was at your apartment, roughly a year after the two of you had met at the karaoke.

“Ugh, it’s just been a shitty day and I need a drink.” You vented to Jisung on the phone while you folded laundry.

“Should I bring over some beer and chicken? Maybe some soju?” You can hear his keys jingling in the background, clearly already getting ready to head your way.

“No, it’s fine. You guys are so busy lately, I would hate to take your time. I’ll be fine, Ji.” The nickname was a recent development, but you both seemed to like it so it stuck.

“Okay, so beer and soju. Got it. I’ll even be your knight in shining armor and get those chips you love for some reason.” You hear his door click shut behind him. “I’ll be over soon pookie wookie bear.” He says in a cute voice and you make a gagging sound. “Okay, okay! Sorry! I am actually on my way. Give me like 15 minutes, yeah?”

Twenty minutes later, you heard your doorbell ringing over. And over. And over. You opened the door and glared.

“If I could, I would yell your full government name at you right now.” You sigh, and let him in, cursing your neighbor who you found out was a Stay shortly after they moved in. Yeah, makes having any of the boys over very tricky. Great times. Jisung giggles because he knows the reason “You little shit.” You mutter, rolling your eyes. He sets down his convenience store bag on the coffee table and eyes your folded laundry while glancing over to see if you’re watching. “No! No, I just washed those. Get your own hoodies you gremlin.” You can’t help but laugh as he pouts, hands reaching out for his personal favorite of your hoodie collection. You swipe the pile and toss it onto your bed.

“But your hoodies are so much comfier.” He whines and sighs, huffing into his spot on the floor.

“Just buy your own hoodies in a bigger size.” You shake your head, plopping beside him on the floor and emptying the bags.

“Yeah, but our hoodie is a special one I can’t buy myself.”

“My hoodie that I bought at a concert just months ago?” You know which one he’s referring to. It’s a dark green hoodie you bought when you saw your favorite artist in concert recently. “I bet you could find it online.” You mutter, ignoring his pleading eyes and grab the remote to pick something to watch. You land on your comfort anime, Haikyuu and Jisung groans.

“Look, I get that you had a rough day. But if I have to watch the Karasuno vs. Aoba Johsai match again, I might unalive myself.”

“Okay, what should we watch then?” You give up, handing him the remote. He scrolls through the options for a while, sighing periodically before shrugging.

“Do you wanna just put on cafe vlogs and talk about it?” He asks softly, taking a sip of his beer. Your lip wobbled but you nodded, taking a deep breath and a big swig of your somaek than Han had made for you. He also made a mess on the floor, but in his defense he was just trying to make you feel better. Once Najing is making drinks on your TV, he turns his attention towards you and quietly waits. You look at him and anchor yourself to the stars you swear you see swirling in his eyes.

“Okay, so-” a sob escapes from your mouth and the rest of your retelling of the day is a blubbering mess. A set of parents publicly humiliated you for something that was well out of your control and your boss was absolutely of no help, saying it must have been your fault. Jisung is sympathetic, handing you tissues and patting your arm gently.

“y/n-ah, that was definitely not your fault. That shit is so out of pocket, you didn’t deserve that.” He grabbed your hand gently and both of you jumped back as if you were shocked by electricity. You clearly weren’t expecting that and he didn’t even realize he had done it. “UHHH OKAY HOW ABOUT KARAOKE.” Han came out to cover Jisung from the embarrassment and all you could do was laugh.

“I am not in the mood for karaoke.” You gasp between wheezes, shaking your head.

“Then you need more alcohol.” He filled your glass back to the top and handed it to you. You can’t tell if his cheeks are red from the beer or from what just happened but he was so damn cute you didn’t care.

“No, I don’t want to hear you do terrible covers of your group's own songs. It’s very painful for me, a fan, to hear. And I’m sure my neighbor would break through the wall in an instant.” You take a sip of your drink, trying to catch your breath. He frowns and takes his spot next to you. It’s quiet between the two of you, but you don’t feel pressured to say anything. You weren’t sure how long had passed, the two of you just quietly watching drinks be made. “Thank you, Sungie. I feel better just having you here.” Your head turns to look at him and he’s eyeing you with a small smile.

“You’ve never called me that in person before.” he comments softly, the stars swirling even more. Did you have too much to drink? Maybe.

“Called you what? Sungie?” You giggle and lean towards him. Yeah, you’re definitely drunk. He huffs out a small laugh at whatever it is you’re doing and turns his face away.

“I like it. You can keep calling me that if you want.”

“Only when it’s just us though. That seems like a” you lean in closer and whisper “boyfriend nickname.” And you swear for a second that his cheeks instantly flush red, but he stands up and mutters something about going to the bathroom, pulling his hood over his head. While he’s gone, you crawl onto the couch and curl into a ball. You swear you only plan to close your eyes for a second, but are awoken by Jisung shaking you awake.

“Should I go home?” He asks softly, squatting down to be eye level with you. You pout and shake your head, making grabby hands for him.

“Can’t you just cuddle with me all night?” This time you for sure see his cheeks flush pink.

“Why do you keep saying things like that?” He asks sadly, gently pushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Because I’ve secretly been attracted to you from the moment I saw you. But shhh, you can’t tell Jisung.” You slur, grabbing his hoodie and tugging him onto the couch. He holds back a laugh as you pull him into your arms, humming in content when you finally have him close. He’s still for a moment before coming to the quiet realization that your arms are the home he’s longed for all these years. His eyes scan the details of your face, tears threatening to fall at any moment. The two of you had hugged before, so why was it so different this time? Why was his heart pounding yet somehow he’s never felt more at peace.

“We can’t go back from here.” He whispers to you with a serious gaze but you’re already asleep, snoring softly. He places a feather soft kiss on your nose and nuzzles into you happily.

You woke up that morning to a text from Jisung, explaining that he had to run out for some work thing. You groaned, lifting your head from the couch and looking around the living room. It was surprisingly clean for Jisung having been over last night. You don’t remember much after the mention of karaoke, and even that’s a little fuzzy. You drag yourself to the kitchen to drink some water, swearing that you’ll never drink again. Is it a lie? Perhaps. But it feels sincere right now. You’re in the process of gulping down an entire bottle of water when new memories from the night before flood into your mind. Water sprays from your nose in shock, luckily you’re near the sink.

“Oh my god, y/n you can never drink again. Holy shit why did I DO THAT?” You blindly reach for a paper towel to clean off your face, coughing slightly. As if sensing he was being thought about, you see Jisung calling you. You clear your throat and pick up, trying to seem like whatever that was didn’t just happen. “Hey, what’s up Ji?”

“Hey! I was just checking on you, baby. You were still sleeping when I left.” Baby? Oh dear, what have you done?

“Oh, uh thanks. Yeah, I’m just drinking some water.” And blowing it out your nose, no big deal. We love a talented queen. “Um, Ji, about last night-”

“Sorry y/n-ah, I gotta go. I’ll come see you tonight, okay?” He cuts you off, ending the call just as abruptly as it had started.

The day consisted of you pacing around your apartment, trying to figure out how to tell Jisung that you didn’t actually mean to confess your feelings. Not that you didn’t mean what you said but more that the timing was terrible. You had known him for over a year now but you were scared that this was too fast. He wasn’t even technically allowed to date, so all of this was wrong. So wrong. So, when Jisung arrived at your apartment later that day, you had been spiraling down this rabbit hole for hours. You were a mess and almost burst into tears at the sight of him. Of course he had flowers, why wouldn’t he have flowers? He was holding them so cutely too.

“Sorry I’m kinda late, I wasn’t sure which bouquet at the flower shop was prettier.” His smile was so wide it almost hurt. You stepped to the side, letting him come in.

“So, uh, Ji. I wanted to talk about last night.” You muttered nervously, picking at your nails with your eyes on the floor.

“Oh, sure. Yeah, let's talk about it.” You could hear the worry in his voice as he sat on the couch, waiting for you to join him. You sat beside him and took a deep breath, unable to look at him.

“I… I just wanted to apologize for what drunk y/n did. She, uh, clearly forgot her manners. She also forgot that you’re not allowed to date, so yeah. Not very cool.” You finally gained the strength to look up at him and he was holding back a laugh, trying his hardest to look serious.

“Uh, so you’re saying that you don’t feel that way?” He asks, momentarily gaining his composure.

“Well, no. But I know that-”

“Then that’s all that matters. All the rest of it, we’ll figure it out.” He grabs your hand and sighs. “You’re just too cute, you know that?” He flashed you his wide smile that made your heart melt and all the anxiety skitter away from your mind.

You thought that dating a celebrity would have been awkward or scary. But dating Jisung felt as easy as breathing. While, yes, you had to keep your relationship hidden from the world as well as his company, the two of you still managed to be attached at the hip. Until your schedules made it a bit more difficult, of course. But you could always count on Jisung to bombard you with tiktoks at any given point of the day.

This last comeback, however, there wasn’t even time for that. You tried to text and call him when you could, but both of you were so busy that the calls were never longer than an hour and the messages were brief. Scrolling through Twitter, you saw Stay talking about how worried they were for Han, saying he seemed like he wasn’t feeling well. It was like a knife twisting in your heart to see him like that, to see that the Han front wasn’t even able to hold up.

With some help from Chan, you booked a flight to come visit Jisung while he conveniently had the day off after lunch. You had arrived at his hotel room just before he had gotten back, waiting eagerly on the couch for him. Your heart jumped at the sound of the door opening and you stood, already craving him in your arms. You heard him sigh and kick his shoes off, padding into the room. His eyes were glued to his phone, headphones in. You chuckled to yourself as he obliviously went into the bedroom and you followed behind him. He crawled into bed and finally noticed you when he glanced up towards the end of the bed where you stood. His eyes widened and he sat up, jaw dropping in shock.

“Baby? Is it really you?” You could see his eyes begin to water as he stood up and slowly made his way towards you.

“Yeah, I’m here love.” You smiled as he quickly closed the space between the two of you and pulled you in close. His sniffles only made your heart break for him more, your arms tightening around his body to hold him closer.

“I missed you so much. I don’t know what’s going on with me, but it’s so hard right now.”He mumbled into your neck where he was nuzzled against you. “I’m trying so hard to be what I’m supposed to be, but I’m so tired and my head hurts all the time. I really don’t want to let them down, but I don’t know how to do better.” You can feel his tears wetting your shirt as he confides in you, tears streaming down your own cheeks.

“Oh, my sweet boy.” You sighed and gently pulled him away and held his face in your hands. “Look at me baby.” You whispered softly, wiping tears from his face with your thumbs. His wide eyes slowly slide to meet yours and the guilt that lives in them fills you with sadness and anger. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with having an off day, or even an off week for that matter. Maybe even an off month. You work a very demanding job and you do it flawlessly. So many people love you and look to you for strength, Han Jisung. But you’re allowed to not feel okay. To need some time alone, to recharge.” You kiss his forehead gently and you can feel him lean into your touch. “I know we’re both busy, but I’m seriously just a phone call away- always. I don’t care where I am, I’ll answer if you call.” You pull back and look at him and he gives you a small smile, nodding.

“Thank you for coming.” His voice is soft, looking at you adoringly. He covers your face in kisses, a full smile finally growing on his beautiful face.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I have a surprise for you.” You go out to the couch and grab the gift bag you had brought in and hand it to him with a smile. He furrows his brow and peaks into the bag before breaking out into a huge grin. “I figured I could loan our favorite hoodie to you until you come back.” You chuckle as you watch him frantically take off the one he was wearing and replace it with yours. He rushes over to you and hugs you tightly again. The two of you eventually end up on the bed, snuggled up to one another in comfortable silence. After what could have been hours, Jisung kisses your forehead and keeps his lips there while he mumbles the phrase that makes your heart soar every single time you hear it.

“I love you so much, y/n.”

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