#somewhere in the middle: i can't fucking hear anything also my head feels like it's going to explode

[keferon]

Chapter 3 of Blurr’s storyline in Mecha AU!

Previous chapter

“Speaking of Mechs.” continues Blurr, ”That thing's evacuation system sucks. What if you were stunned by the fall? What if something short-circuits and starts a fire???”

Swindle just clenches the glass in his hands. Feels the cold moisture of condensation dripping down onto his fingers.

“Then I'd burn.” he doesn't say

Under the cut⤵️

——————————————————

It's Swindle's birthday.

He thinks it is.

He's pretty sure.

Since he was taken into the program, it's always hard to tell. It's like time flows differently here. He had a calendar, but Brawl put it somewhere a while ago and then forgot where it was. And they're not allowed to have phones yet. Though Swindle assumes Onslaught managed to steal one from someone anyway.

Shit. Where's the calendar?

Swindle remembers the date, but can't remember the month.

There's a strange static tingling sensation in the back of his head. If he turns his head too fast, it'll grow into an unpleasant pricking pain.

The last time in the lab was disgusting.

He can't remember what month it is. He's not even sure why it bothers him so much. Not that birthdays mean anything within the walls of the program.

He stops in the middle of the living room and looks around with a meticulous eye. He's already checked the beds, desk, and nightstands...hah.

“Hey have any of you seen my calendar?”

Vortex, sitting on top of the bunk bed shakes the ash off his cigarette right down into Blast Off's lap.

“Nope.”

“TEX YOU'RE LITTERING ON MY BED.”

“I could have ..torn it up” offers Brawl from across the room.

Swindle turns on his heels and angrily rests his arms at his sides.

“You tore it?”

“I might have,” Brawl scratches the back of his head.

Swindle pinches the bridge of his nose

That's fine. Not that he cares that much. Not that any celebration at all would save the crappy day.

He has some new “experimental” medical procedure scheduled for later, which generally means suffering. Or if he's lucky, some critter will attack the city and instead of squirming on the slab, he'll have to go cuddle with huge nasty beasts. Which is slightly better than the actual procedures. He'd like that to happen. If only his head would also stop buzzing....

“Happy birthday to me” Swindle thinks, sticking his Mech hand under the plates of a particularly ugly monster and pulling something disgustingly oozing green blood out of there. He can see the faces of the random gawkers who didn't have time to evacuate. Ooh, some of them got that nasty stuff on their faces. Swindle has no time to feel sorry for them.

The monster did attack, but it's entirely possible that this monster ended the last meager supply of luck Swindle had. Because somewhere. Something. In his head begins to hurt again and the world in front of his eyes begins to slowly blur and..

ahh FUCK….

The monster grabs him knocks him to the ground and Swindle can literally feel in his bones that something's wrong, but the data from his Mech doesn't give him any useful information. Which isn't that uncommon. These things are glitchy as hell and aren't designed to recognize anything but the most basic popular malfunctions.

The word “error” shines mockingly in his face. Blurring in his eyes and reflecting in red on his uniform.

Error, error, what the hell is this error. He needs to know what's wrong so he doesn't accidentally kill himself, but all this bucket offers him is oops. You're in trouble teeheee~

He can hear the sound of Blast Off's giant cannon in the distance. And the loud rumble where Vortex and Onslaught are trying to get out of the ring of monsters.

His Mech is unresponsive. His damn machine refuses to move and Swindle isn't quite sure if it's the Mech that's the problem, because his head feels like a piece of raw rotten meat and maybe the error meant that what's broken is him.

The monster leans over him, trying to rip off whatever it can rip off and thank god this thing apparently isn't smart enough to realize that the Mech is controlled from the head because it's aiming straight for his chest.

He needs to get out. If he can't get this thing to move, he needs to get the fuck out of it before the alien gets him.

He manages to open the emergency hatch and quietly slip out and ohhhh the world is spinning, this is not bloody good.

He manages to take a few steps before a loud B A N G comes from somewhere above and IS THAT A TRAIN???? Who in their right mind would think of using a fucking train as a throwing weapon???? Is that Brawl? It's got to be Brawl. Oh, Swindle is so gonna kill him.

Because (sadly) in addition to the monster, the train and Swindle, there's also physics involved in this circus.

So while the monster is effectively brought to rest and knocked sideways with a hole in it’s head, the train stops its forward motion and starts its downward motion.

Right onto Swindle's head.

He just has time to think that dying from a train falling out of the sky is a pretty creative death. His legs are shaking, his head is buzzing and he only manages to take half a sluggish step in an attempt to avoid the inevitable when a loud “MOVE” comes to his ears and something yanks him to the side.

The tug sends fire down his spine and head. The ensuing landing reverberates with pain in his shoulder and sides. He barely has time to process the first two sensations until a moment later he hears a rumble so deafening that he thinks his eardrums are about to burst.

Swindle props himself up on his elbows and hisses in pain as the movement causes the back of his head to sting.

“Ah I'll fuckin' kill him...”

A voice comes above him

“Ouw dude. You okay?”

There's.. Some teenager hovering over him. And behind him is lying...the wrecked train...right where Swindle himself was standing a second ago.

The strange teen frowns worriedly and pulls Swindle upright and drags him somewhere else

“Come on, it's best not to be in the open during monster attacks”

“Ah” thinks Swindle ”right. Without Mech you're a pathetic tiny piece of chop begging to be stomped on by Brawl.”

He tries to focus on balance so he doesn't hang too much on this kid.

They find the nearest unlocked door, which turns out to be the entrance to an underground bar.

“So” says the stranger, letting go of Swindle and shaking the dust off his hair ” You're a pilot! That's so cool, but you're kinda small for a pilot.”

Swindle sighs sullenly.

“I'll let you have that one comment about my height because you helped me, but next time you're dead.”

“Helped? I saved your ass.”

“Helped a lot” says Swindle grudgingly. “Thanks.”

The teen laughs and climbs into the bar. It's a mess everywhere, people clearly evacuated in a hurry and threw everything in haste.

“What's your name? Oh, or, wait. Do you guys use code names? I've heard pilots call each other by call signs, but half the time those call signs sound so dumb, I don't see how they can respond to that.”

He waits for the kid to cut off his flow of words to take a breath. Man, what a chatty boy.

“You can call me Swindle.”

“Kay” the kid pulls out a couple glasses ”I'm Blurr. Would you like something Swindle? I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty good at mixing cocktails.”

Swindle looks around the room suspiciously. The bar, even though it's underground, looks pretty good. Too good, in fact. The place is clearly not for the poor.

He walks over to the bar and climbs onto a bar stool. There's no one else in here but them, but the electricity is on so he doesn't doubt for a second that they're being filmed by a security camera right now. Maybe a few even.

Blurr throws him an expectant look.

Swindle pretends to go through his pockets. As if there could be money in them out of nowhere. Then he makes a comically confused face and spreads his hands.

“Oh, no, I think I left my millions at home. What's the cheapest thing you have?”

Blurr snorts.

“Ice is free.”

“I'll take the ice then” nods Swindle.

There is a loud rumbling sound above them. It must be Vortex having fun again bouncing on the aliens that have fallen to the ground, crushing their heads.

Swindle is just. He takes off his helmet, takes a glass of ice and presses it to his head enjoying the way the nasty buzzing recedes.

Blurr waits for the rumbling to recede before speaking again.

“But really. You're a pilot but...uh. Are you even old enough to drink?”

Swindle sends him his best grumpy look. It's not exactly a joke about his height, but it's damn close.

“Are you old enough to pour?”

“Sure,” says Blurr too fast for it to be true. If Swindle had to guess, he'd say the guy in front of him is no older than seventeen. The tattered jeans and the T-shirt with the F1 logo printed on it definitely don't help. And, hey, those headphones look very expensive. So do the sneakers. Kid's clearly from a wealthy family.

Blurr pulls out a bottle of syrup from somewhere and pours it straight into his mouth. Doesn't miss, which is amusing. Doesn't wince, which is frankly impressive. Swindle feels the unbearable sweetness just looking at him.

It suddenly hits him

“Hey, do you have a phone?”

“Sure,” Blurr pours himself more syrup. Swindle twitches.

“What's the day today?”

Blurr's mouth is full of an unimaginable amount of sugar, so he just pulls out his phone and turns its screen toward Swindle and oh...oh. He was wrong about the date. And the month, too. It's not his birthday. His birthday was a week ago...

Does that mean he must be nineteen now? Yeah, that makes him nineteen.

Blurr takes the phone back and slips it into his pocket.

“Your face looks funny.”

“I just realized it's my birthday today,” smiles Swindle.

“Oooooooohh~~~” rejoices Blurr ”Congratulations! It's kind of poetic that you almost died just today. Can you imagine how funny the numbers on your tombstone would have looked.”

Swindle chokes on air.

“That's certainly a very appropriate comment, thank you...”

“Sorry haha said without thinking.” Blurr reaches under the counter again and pulls out a bottle from there “Hey, they have more syrups!”

There's another loud rumble from upstairs.

Blurr presses his head into his shoulders and stares up at the ceiling as if hoping to see something through it.

Swindle puts his elbows and head on the tabletop

“Don't worry, it's just Brawl.”

Blurr doesn't take his eyes off the ceiling

“ You can tell that by the sound of falling concrete?”

Swindle lazily dangles his feet. The chair is high and even the toes of his shoes don't reach the floor.

“Brawl is the loudest. And the heaviest, too. He's always crashing into everything, throwing things and breaking things too. You can hear him a mile away.”

He pauses to listen

“And that kch-ooooooooomm is Blast Off's cannon. It's some super rare experimentally advanced one, so it sounds like something out of a space movie. He couldn't stop bragging about it for half a year when he got it.”

Blurr chuckles and leans his elbows on the counter, relaxing.

“ And this...uh...what's this?”

“That's Vortex, he's our local lunatic. Best not to listen too much to what he does, it's almost always disgusting in ways you would never even consider.”

Blurr makes a disgruntled face and is silent for a couple minutes.

“It's weird hearing you call them by their names. I mean, I kind of always knew Mechs were run by people but you guys are never seen, so most of the time it's just.. Huge robots and huge monsters. You know what I mean. I was actually surprised when I saw you get out of that Mech.”

Swindle just nods. Because, what else is there to add.

“Speaking of Mechs.” continues Blurr, ”That thing's evacuation system sucks. What if you were stunned by the fall? What if something short-circuits and starts a fire???”.

Swindle just clenches the glass in his hands. Feels the cold moisture of condensation dripping down onto his fingers

“Then I'd burn.” he doesn't say

Blurr doesn't seem to notice his glum mood

“Oh, hey. If it's no secret, why did you go into piloting in the first place?”

Because he had no choice? He can't answer that, that information isn't for civilians.

Because he didn't know what he was getting into until it was too late? That's not vague enough either.

Because he was up to his neck in debt and barely into college before a smiling man showed up on his doorstep and offered him good money if he agreed to a couple tests...?

“I had to do it for the people.” Swindle decides to repeat a line of propaganda.

“Ohhhh.... That's...a good reason. The monsters are disgusting, of course. But the reason is cool.”

Swindle just. Holds his glass of melting ice, listens to Blurr's mutterings, and enjoys the peace. This random teenager is not his superior or colleague and has nothing to do with the organization at all. Swindle doesn't have to remember to salute or follow orders or fear being reported to his superiors.

He can just. Be.

Just him and his free ice and his saved for free life.

That's. Sweet.

Blurr's drinking syrup again.

...and a little disgusting.

—————————-

Brawl jumps out of bed, hits his head on a shelf hanging on the wall and drops everything on it onto Blast Off's head

“Swindle!!!” yells Brawl.

“Why are these books sticky???” shrieks Blast Off.

“You don't wanna know~” giggles Vortex.

Swindle sighs.

“You're alive!!!” ignores Blast Off Brawl's complaints. And a second later runs up and pulls Swindle off the floor in a crushing bear hug.

Behind them, Blast Off, with his face wrinkled in disgust, gathers all the dropped books back onto the shelf.

Swindle wheezes pathetically and slaps Brawl's arm with his palm, either to reciprocate the gesture or to beg for mercy

“Br...khaaaaah...Brawl I can't breathh.”

“OH. I'm uh. Here. Wait.”

Brawl puts him back on the floor and runs back to the shelf.

Onslaught, who has peeked into the room, puts a hand on Swindle's shoulder

“You've been gone a long time. Boss said you tried to escape.”

His tone isn't judgmental. And not pressuring. Not even questioning, but Swindle knows Onslaught wants more information. Swindle clutches a piece of napkin with a phone number in his pocket and smiles weakly.

“I've found a...friend? I think?”

Onslaught nods. In a manner that only he knows how to do. Not giving an opinion, not encouraging or condemning. Just taking in the information. Swindle admires him for that.

Behind them, Brawl pulls some piece of paper out from under the books that have just been put away and drops them again

“FUCK!” yells Blast Off. Vortex just starts hooting like a hyena.

“Hey Swindle I found the calendar!” yells Brawl waving the paper.

Swindle frowns in surprise.

“It's a different calendar...”

“I found you a new one.” nods Brawl.

“...Why...is it...it's torn in half?”

“It had stupid flowers drawn on it, so I ripped them off. And I accidentally ripped off more than I needed.”

“Ah,” says Swindle, clutching the calendar, ”That's...Thanks. I forgive you for losing the previous one.”

Behind them, Blast Off is trying to strangle Vortex with a jacket.

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

Blurr waves his arms happily like a hyperactive windmill.

“Swindle!!!”

Swindle smiles and adjusts his glasses

“Your party can be seen from across city.”

“I know~~” primps Blurr “Are you hungry? There was a snack table around here somewhere.”

“I didn't bring any money.” lies Swindle.

“Hey man, it's a party. Help yourself, it's free.”

“Оh.” Swindle's mood instantly brightens. “All right, then.”

“You look terrible” Blurr decides to share.

Swindle, busy shoveling food into his pockets, nods.

“I've had a rough week. Actually, it'd be cool if you didn't tell anyone you saw me here. I'm kind of not supposed to be here.”

He doesn't elaborate.

Blurr is a civilian. In his mind, a rough week is rude people or an exam or bad weather. Swindle's bad week is strap marks on his wrists and double vision. It's nausea from injections and sleepless nights because Vortex won't stop screaming in his sleep.

Blurr doesn't know that. With him, Swindle can pretend to be somewhat normal.

-----------

“Heeeeey“ says Blurr ‘I haven't seen you in a long time~"

“That” thinks Swindle ”is a pretty standard phrase for both of them.

Blurr looks older. Taller too. He was taller than Swindle before, but now that difference is starting to look almost comical. He's also flaunting a cast on his arm.

“Did you get hurt?”

“Didn't make a turn at training” waves Blurr off “It's no big deal. Wanna go find something to eat?”

Blurr is always trying to feed him, Swindle notices over time. Offers him drinks or snacks or whatever.

“ I like your uh..cap?”

“I got a promotion” Swindle smiles proudly “Me and the guys were made a special group...actually you're not allowed to know more than that, so you'll have to take my word for it when I say we are officially cool.”

He purposely adjusts his cap by the brim so Blurr can get a good look at it.

Blurr makes a delighted sound. Something between a “wow” and a giggle. He generally makes a lot of sounds all the time. Tapping his fingers on every hard surface, stomping in place like he's always late for something, laughing, whistling, clicking his tongue. A human orchestra.

__________

Onslaught sits down next to Swindle and clutches his hands in his lap in front of him. This makes the bed legs squeak pitifully. Onslaught has grown surprisingly large. He can almost rival Brawl in height already. Most people find that intimidating, but Swindle just thinks Onslaught is like a wall. A big, solid concrete wall that's so good to hide behind.

“Be careful with what you tell this guy.”

“Don't worry” says Swindle ”He's not the type of friend you tell secrets to. He's just a fun dude who's great to hang out with.”

Onslaught hums.

“And who feeds you for free.”

“If that's how you're trying to ask me to share, you're not doing a very good job.”

Vortex snaps his fingers as he walks past them

“Hey Swindler, the lab is closed for today. It's your day off.”

“Wha...”

Onslaught tilts his head.

“Vortex. What did you do?”

“I spat in their dna sample vault” proudly proclaims Vortex “and didn't tell them exactly where.”

-----———————-

Blurr frowns.

“Hey...are you okay?”

“No” thinks Swindle.

“My friend died” he says instead.

He's not okay. He feels like an animal caught in a beartrap, trying to chew off its own paw to get free.

Except the trap is closed around Swindle's head and it's not a body part he can afford to lose.

There's been a lot of talk. Even more rumors. Swindle listened but tried not to believe.

And then one of pilots, Shockwave… was taken to the lab and brought back a different damn man and it felt like Swindle had the rug pulled out from under his feet with hot coals underneath.

Because Swindle's boss, with his stupid, rehearsed smile, started writing reports about how “human personality flaws are something that can be fixed. That challenging behavior is something that can be repaired with tools.

Blurr freezes.

“Who?”

“Vortex.”

Because of course it's Vortex. Talented but difficult to handle. Powerful but uncontrollable.

They wanted a pilot who would be a beast on the battlefield and a loyal dog on base. And who else would be a more ideal test subject than him?

Vortex was being very rude that day, even by Vortex standards. Yelling and swearing and throwing things around. Kept saying that no shitty lab could make him “a fucking puppet.”

Scratching the stitches on his head until he started leaving a trail of blood behind him.

He went on a mission.

And never came back.

The reports said it was all the monsters' fault. That Vortex was unstable. That the accident had nothing to do with the new technology. But it was nevertheless suspended.

Swindle is both bitter and amused by this. Vortex would eat the same monsters for breakfast any other day. The bastard was unkillable.

“Oh my god” says Blurr “I'm so sorry to hear that.”

He says something else. Probably comforting. About how Vortex died protecting people, maybe. About Vortex being a hero.

“Vortex,” thinks Swindle, ”loved life. He loved adrenaline and danger and pain and thrill and fear, but he never wanted to die. They did something to him. Something that made him go over the edge.”

Vortex got his head in the trap and ripped it off to escape it.

Swindle knows him and the others are next. And knows that no one but themselves can help them.

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

Blast Off seems...very quiet. He could never stop complaining about Vortex before. Yelling about the garbage. Resenting the unmade bed and the cigarette ashes.

Vortex's bed remains unmade.

Blast Off regularly cleans everything up, but never wipes away the little circles of ash from the places where Vortex used to put out cigarettes on the furniture.

Onslaught puts his hand on Swindle's shoulder and squeezes. Not hard. Just enough for Swindle to register the gesture as important.

Standing nearby, Blast Off lights a cigarette and leans on Onslaught.

“Ons told me about your plan. I want to join in.”

“What kind of plan? Can I get involved?” inquires Brawl.

Onslaught sighs.

“Repeat after me - I don't know, they don't tell me anything.”

“I don't know, they don't tell me anything.”

“Good job” nods Onslaught “From now on, every time they ask you any - listen. Any! Question about us, you will answer them with this phrase.”

“Got it,” grins Brawl.

Swindle smiles.

“Gentlemen, it's time to violate all that is written, and rewrite all that is violated.”

__________________

Blurr lazily takes his eyes off the phone. He's wearing a racing suit and tons of hairspray. He's shiny and gleaming like a fine collectible figurine that should be on the shelf of an expensive exhibit. He's also bored.

“Sorry buddy, the interview is long over, if you have any questions you'll have to pay for the session.”

Swindle smiles.

“How about one tiny little question?”

Blurr makes funny big eyes.

“SWINDLE!!! I haven't seen you in a thousand years! You...oh I didn't recognize you haha sorry. Nice coat. You quit being a pilot?”

Swindle proudly adjusts his glasses. He's wearing a brand-new, ironed shirt that's exactly his size. Nice neat tie, expensive coat. Swindle isn't surprised Blurr didn't recognize him immediately. Sometimes he looks in the mirror and doesn't recognize himself. After all those years of wearing the pilot's uniform, he felt almost attached to it. And yet here he is.

“You could say I moved.” he winks snarkily, “Up. All the Mechs you see on the streets now are my Mechs~”

Blurr completely forgets about his phone.

“REALLY?? Oh man congrats to you!”

“Thanks” nods Swindle ”You want something to drink? I'm buying.”

———————-

Onslaught adjusts his tie. It's still, years later, a little strange to see him in a uniform instead of a pilot's suit.

“You do realize it's going to be hard to find a person like that, right? We need someone famous enough to be effective and dumb enough to want to save mankind instead of sunbathing on a yacht.”

Swindle adjusts his glasses and leans back in his chair.

Someone outgoing so they can quickly befriend all the right people. Handsome enough to have their face printed on a poster. Smart just enough not to say too much. And not associated with Mecha program so they can't be accused of trying to get promoted through their acquaintances.

Someone who already has everything but still willing to put themselves at risk for the cause.

“You know, I think I have a possible candidate.”

[dimestoresuguru]

bestfriend!gojo x reader | 2.

PART ONE. PART THREE.

cw; fem reader, uhh angst, very guilty gojo bc he now thinks he's an awful friend, ur mad bc hes avoiding u which like u should be bruh, strong language again :p but less this time

author; erm so i saw an anakin/darth vader edit to pushing it down and praying by lizzy mcalpine so now we're here. STAR WARS EDITORS IM COMING FOR U ISTG. also r we feeling the fic vibes w this bc I AM

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ₊˚⊹♡. ⋆｡𖦹°‧₊˚⊹♡. ⋆｡𖦹°‧ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

bestfriend!gojo who after comforting you and getting you home with all your favourite snacks, starts to avoid you. not because of anything you did, but because he feels so so guilty about thinking of you so nastily while you were venting to him. it wasn't right, and he's tearing himself up about it.

bestfriend!gojo who replies the best he can when he texts you, but always claims he's busy when you ask if he can come over. this of course only makes him feel worse about it, but he also feels that if he looked you in the eyes right now, you would be able to see every shameful thing he has ever thought swimming in his eyes; so he just can't. not right now.

bestfriend!gojo who barely pries himself off of his couch to answer the door. his ass has been plastered to those cushions for the better part of a week and a half, so it really is a struggle for him to get up. he wasn't expecting a delivery of anything, but he figures that somewhere in his guilt-and-anxiety-ridden haze that he must've ordered something to eat.

instead of a pizza guy, he comes face to face with your thunderous expression. he almost slams the door in your face, not ready to deal with the inevitable consequences to his avoidance of you. but he can see that behind your anger at him, there are the beginnings of tears in the corners of your eyes. so, he silently steps aside to let you into his apartment.

he immediately regrets that decision, given the fact that his apartment is in a shameful state of dissaray and you've never seen it less than perfectly clean. but, evidently, you don't care about that. you simply turn to him and (rightfully) start shouting.

"why the fuck have you been avoiding me?"

oh, the hurt in your voice absolutely fucking kills him. "i wasn't, i've just been really busy."

"oh don't give me that bullshit," you scoff, so not in the mood to hear him make excuses "i know that you haven't been going to class. and suguru seems to think that you're just fine because you haven't been acting off to him, just to me. why, satoru? what did i do? because i don't understad why you're treating me like this."

it's bestfriend!gojo's turn to tear up, because he didn't realise how awful he had been making you feel. he had thought that since you were going through something with mike that you would appreciate some space. that you might not even notice.. if he pulled away.

oh how wrong he was.

"i swear that you haven't done anything, baby, i just needed.. i just needed some time. i've been.. struggling a bit with my class workload-" he tries, but you're not having any of that.

"satoru gojo, you better stop bullshitting me, i swear to god-"

"I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU, OKAY?" he blurts before he can even second guess what he's saying. his mouth now has a mind of it's own, there's not stopping what he's about to tell you. "I'm in love with you, moron, and last week when you were crying in my car i couldn't stop thinking about laying you out in my backseat and making sure the only thing you could think about was how good my dick was making you feel, not some idiotic guy who can't see how amazing you are." he takes a breath, and keeps going, because it's now or never. "and it wasn't just last week, it's been months, and i can't get the thought of you out of my head. you've been driving me crazy, because you are so goddamn gorgeous and you never seem to see it."

bestfriend!gojo who has thoroughly made you speechless in the middle of his living room.

bestfriend!gojo who is waiting with bated breath for your response, truly terrified for what you'll say next.

[trippinsorrows]

ltye: in your hands

authors note: welp. here i am, once again. we're back with yet another 'what if' scenario, prompted by you lovely people in an ask that i can't seem to find to link right now. smh.

words: 3.3k

warnings: none. just sam being sam.

song inspo: in your hands by halle

Roman should have stuck with his first mind. Stayed home. Texted her some excuse about being caught up with work. She would have never found out the truth, and even if she did, he wouldn’t have given two fucks. 

Because this shit doesn’t seem to be getting any better. 

This dating thing. 

It’s gotta be at least the fifth or sixth one he’s taken her on, and each one has been just as miserable up until the point where he gets her on her knees, gagging or bouncing on his dick the minute they get back to his penthouse. Anything before that has been irksome, borderline miserable. 

Samantha is stunning. Has been since they were kids, and her body is the most desirable of the women he has on his roster. She leans on the thinner side of what he prefers, but the tits and ass are decent, regardless. She’s also just as kinky as him, which is why they’ve worked all these years.

But, the more “dates” Roman forces himself to power through, the more he’s starting to feel like bedroom activities is where it stops for them. 

Technically, he’s always known this. Even if he did have some level of desire to be in a real relationship with someone, which he doesn't, it would never be her. She’s vain, condescending, and seems to think she’s somehow better than the other women he fucks with.

If only she realized he views her just like he views the rest of the women. A warm body with a wet cunt to help him get his dick wet. 

“Roman!” Her voice cuts through his inner dialogue as he focuses on her cleavage. The dress she wore, short and tight, doesn’t help his desire to skip to the fucking part of this evening. “Did you hear what I said?”

“No.” Roman sees no sense in lying to her. “I probably don’t care either.”

She rolls her eyes and proceeds to continue like he literally didn’t just tell her he doesn’t care. “I was saying we should go somewhere.”

He’s partially intrigued now. Mostly because he’ll probably need to set her ass straight. “Where?”

She smiles and shrugs. “I don’t know. I was thinking Bora Bora.”

He shakes his head. “So go.”

She frowns, clarifying. “I said we should go, Roman.”

He scoffs, looking off at the ice sculpture in the middle of the upscale restaurant. A waste of money, in his opinion. “What the hell makes you think I have time to go to fucking Bora Bora with you?” He really wants to ask her what makes her think he would want to in the first place, but he’s trying to be somewhat less of an asshole to see if maybe this could work.

His Wise Man’s nervous voice balanced out with sage wisdom returning to the front of his mind.

“If the Elders are to force you into a marriage, why not with someone you already know? Especially someone who you know would have no issue in giving you an heir.”

If only Samantha wasn’t so fucking annoying.

She leans back in the chair. “You make time for these dates.”

Out of obligation. But, he won’t say that. “Yeah, but I can get my nut and send your ass packing in the same night. Can't do that if we're out of the fucking country.”

“You’re suck a di—”

“I’m so sorry.”

Soft. It’s the first thing that comes to mind hearing her voice. Light, almost. Kind. Even with just three words being spoken. And that’s just based off audio. Visually, Roman’s thoughts take an entirely different direction.

Stunning. 

Roman’s seen, entertained, and done a lot more with some beautiful women in his time, but the one standing at their table seems to have something more than all of them put together. She’s beautiful, easily one of the most gorgeous women he’s ever laid eyes on. And her smile, small but genuine makes him pause. As does her body.

She’s wearing the same uniform he’s noticed on the other waitresses, but none of them fill them out like she does. The white, long sleeved shirt that’s tucked into the knee length black pencil skirt can’t hide the curves he can practically see through the bland outfit. Nice, heavy breast. Curvy hips, thick thighs and an ass he can partially see from the front. 

This. This is his preferred body type. A woman who has something he can grab onto when he’s fucking her from behind. And Roman can only imagine what it would be like to be holding onto those luscious hips of hers while he—

“Oh my god, are you stupid?” Samantha’s annoying voice once again pulls him from his carnal fantasies. She gestures between herself and him. “Can you not see we’re in the middle of something?”

The girl, who Roman would guess is in her late twenties, early thirties at most, immediately looks repentant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I was just going to apologize for your wa—”

“Whatever.” Samantha lifts her hand, silencing the girl who’s now looking down at her shoes, clearly embarrassed. “What’s the special for this evening?”

“What’s your name?” Roman’s question comes out at the same time as Samantha’s inquiry. However, his voice clearly presents with more of a commanding nature. 

She swallows. “S–Solana.”

Pretty. Just like her. 

Samantha notices the way Roman is looking at her and is fully confused as to why he’s asking this fat troll for her name. She cuts in again, in that same nasty tone. “Hello? I asked you a question.” 

Solana is clearly struggling with Samantha’s aggressiveness, Roman wondering why this bitch is directing whatever unresolved feelings she has onto this innocent girl. “Umm, I think—”

Samantha scoffs, nose turned up. “You’re our waitress, and you don’t even know what the evening special is?”

“No ma’am, I do. I’m sorry. It’s just—it’s been a long day.” There’s a weight to her words, a sadness in her voice and in her pretty brown eyes. Roman notices all of these things and finds himself wondering what the story is. Everyone has one, and hers is suddenly of interest to him. For reasons he cannot understand. 

“Pretty unprofessional to bring up your personal life, don’t you think?”

Solana closes her eyes, pausing before answering. She looks exhausted. Mentally and physically. “It’s Squab. That’s the main co—”

“I’m a vegetarian. I don’t eat meat.” Roman rolls his eyes. This hoe has been saying that since they were in high school, yet every so often she goes back to having a normal fucking diet only to switch back to that salad shit. “What’s on your—”

“I’ll do us both a favor and get her to shut the fuck up.” Roman has had enough, both of Samantha’s grating voice but mostly her being a bitch to this girl for no reason. He’s a dick on the regular. He knows this. But, never has he come across someone like this Solana woman who, with just her presence alone, exudes such softness. Like, she doesn’t have a mean bone in her fine ass body. And she clearly doesn’t because anyone else would have probably lost their job by cussing Samantha out. Not that it wouldn’t be deserved.

Roman catches the faintest hint of a smile on Solana’s face as she redirects her attention to him. “Give her the salmon. I’ll take your best steak. For wine, you carry Madeira?” 

She’s pulled out her notepad and finishes taking down the order before answering with a nod. “Yes, sir.”

Roman’s jaw clenches at that sir bit. He could ruin this girl. “What do you recommend?”

She’s visibly taken back by his question, probably by the fact that he’s asking her for her opinion. “Umm—”

“Roman, I can rec—”

“I didn’t ask you,” he cuts that bitch off with the quickness, eyes never leaving the pretty girl before him. “I asked Solana.”

Her smiles widens as she answers in a more confident tone. “Julio Barros…..1950.”

Roman smirks. 

Exactly what he was going to order.

“I’ll take it.”

Their gazes linger on each other a second too long for Samantha’s liking as she cuts in once once more. “You can go now.”

Solana’s smile drops again, Roman suddenly finding himself all annoyed. Her smile is something pretty that he wouldn’t mind seeing more of, though that irritation is waned as he’s granted the view of her nice, round ass and curvy hips swaying as she walks to the back to turn in their order.

Samantha reaches over and touches his hand, Roman snatching it back and sneering at her. “What?”

She sighs. “Baby, I’m trying to talk about us.”

And just like that, he’s annoyed all over again. “There is no us.”

Samantha looks sad only for a brief second. “Roman, I’m not stupid. I know what these dates have been for. You’re trying to see if it could work.”

“If what could work?”

“Us.” She goes on to share. “There’s rumors that the Elders have been putting more pressure on you to settle down and make an heir.” Sam leans over the table, intentionally trying to emphasize her cleavage. It’s nice. He’ll give her that. But, he’s certain it’s nothing compared to Solana though and those big breast of her hers. “I can do that for you. Be that for you. Be your wife. The mother of your children.”

Not a damn thing she’s saying sounds even the least bit desirable. At all. 

“I mean, we’ve been fucking around since we were kids. Why not make it official?”

For a lot of reasons. All the reasons. The main one being Roman don’t like this bitch unless she’s choking on or riding his dick. 

What he does like, however, and finds solace in is the interactions with Ms. Solana as the evening goes on. They’re not very often outside of her bringing the bottle of wine and their food when it’s ready as well as a check-in here or there on how they’re doing.

Each time Samantha sending her the dirtiest look or just being an ol’e nasty bitch, to which Roman shuts down, cutting her off and even telling her to shut the fuck up.

The girl is just trying to do her damn job. And as his eyes locate and land on her on several different occasions, he can see that she works hard. Moving from table to table, almost saddened facial expression indicates she’s on the receiving end of more verbal lashings from people like Samantha.

That actually pisses him off, Roman having to control and stop himself from doing some out of pocket shit. 

Again, for what reason, he hasn’t the slightest clue. He just knows those brief glimpses of her actually smiling, usually when she’s chatting with a coworker, do something for him. 

Maybe even to him. 

And unbeknownst to him, the intrigue goes both ways, because as shitty a day Solana Miller was having, the handsome stranger with the rude girlfriend or wife or whatever has somehow, someway made this day just a little bit better.

It’s been some time, if ever, Solana has come across someone with such a presence about them. Him dining at this uppity restaurant she was able to score a job at tells her that he’s wealthy. His disposition and the fact that he somehow secured it to where the surrounding tables of where he sits have been marked as unavailable tells her that he has pull. But, the way he interacts with her, a literal nobody, she’s not sure what that means.

Especially with the beautiful woman he’s with, because while Solana thinks she’s every bit a bitch as most of the women who come into this place, she’s a stunning bitch. 

Which is why Solana can’t allow herself to believe that that equally beautiful looking man is looking at her in any sort of capacity. 

There’s no way in he—

“Solana.”

And just like that, she's frowning again. “Mami?”

The last thing she expected to see this evening was the sight of her mother, already dressed in her scrubs, baby in her arms. 

Solana’s baby. 

Her 11-month–old daughter, Soraya. 

The shock wears off as Nina gets closer, Solana shaking her head, “what are you—”

Nina shakes her head, face apologetic and tone contrite. “I’m so sorry, baby, but I got called into work. I can’t watch Raya.”

Shit

It's inconvenient, but Solana understands it. She remembers the countless times Nina had no other option but to leave her with a neighbor after being called into work at all kinds of hours. She’s always worked so hard to take care of the two of them when Solana was growing up. 

“It’s okay, mama.” Solana easily reaches for her daughter, a wave of relief and happiness washing over her as she holds and kisses her baby. The source of all her joy. All of the struggle, every bit of it, is worth it as long as she has her daughter. She’d do anything for her. “How was she?”

Nina gives a small chuckle. “She’s like you were and still are. An easy child.” Solana kisses Soraya’s temple. “Sol…..” And just like that, Solana already knows she’s probably not going to like what she’s about to hear. “I know you’ve said you don’t want to go after him for child support, but it’s not fair for you to be out here working two jobs while putting yourself through school to take care of his child.”

Solana holds Soraya just a smidge tighter. “She’s my baby, mami.” 

Nina counters. “She’s his biological child.” Solana looks away, hopeful her manager, Aldis, doesn’t come out and scold her for this little interaction. She’s scheduled to clock out in another half hour anyway. “He should be paying you child support.”

Her mom is right. Solana knows this, knows that it’s not fair for her to have to be the sole provider for her baby girl, while Cruz lives his best life as an absentee, deadbeat dad. And she’s considered on several occasions going to the courthouse to see what she needs to do to get that ball rolling. 

But, every time, she’s haunted by something he said the last time they spoke, not even a month after her daughter was born. 

“Don’t you get it? We were fine before she came in the picture! We could be fine again if she wasn’t.”

Solana’s never been more disturbed than she was to hear those words leave his mouth. That’s why she’s glad he’s gone, that he wants nothing to do with her or his child. Because she would never trust to leave her baby girl with him in the first place.

And if that means she does it without him contributing financially, that’s exactly what she’ll do. 

Solana shifts Soraya from one hip to the other. “I don’t need him, mami.” And she doesn’t. Because if Solana had to resort to sex work to take care of herself and her daughter, it’s exactly what she’d do.

Nina gives a heavy sigh. “Mija, you know I help you when I can.”

“I know.” Because she does. But, the same way that times are hard for her. They’re hard for her mom, too. Everyone’s struggling these days, it seems. Everyone except the rich people who wine and dine without a care in the world around them. “I’ll be okay.”

Always will be.

Nina gives a knowing nod, hugging her daughter and gently taking her granddaughter’s hand, kissing it, speaking in Spanish. “I’ll see you later, okay? Abuela loves you.”

Solana smiles. “Thanks, mama.”

“Always, baby.” 

Nina reaches Solana the diaper bag, Solana placing it on the bar stool, knowing it’s bound to be left alone. These rich ass people would never bother with the Ross purchase. With a final parting smile, Nina is off to the hospital, leaving Solana with her daughter who’s just now waking up.

“Hi, baby girl,” Solana giggles at the almost cranky expression on her baby’s face. Raya is definitely not the happiest camper when being woken up. 

A glance at the time reminds Solana that she technically is still on the clock and really shouldn’t have her child with her. But, with no other option, she accepts she’ll just have to clock out early and take whatever those consequences are.

But before that, the least she can do is grab the bill from the table where the handsome stranger and his girlfriend sat. She’s briefly disappointed to see the table empty, even if she remembers his deep voice thanking her for her assistance this evening as she brought them that same check earlier. 

It’s a silly thing, really. And she tries to push away the disappointment at not properly telling him goodbye. A stranger. 

Silly.

Soraya grasps at the collar of her shirt while Solana walks over to the table, pausing as she gets close enough to see that there’s more than just a bill with a signature. There’s cash. A stack of it. Money in hand, she’s confused, because this man paid with a black card, so what—

“Good.” 

Solana gaps and spins around, her eyes widening as she looks up. He’s a lot taller than she realized, burly body nearly eclipsing her view of anything else, silky black hair in such a neat, perfect bun. “Wanted to make sure you got it.”

Brows furrowed, it’s hard for her to speak for a lot of reasons. One of which is the fact that this man cannot be real. A man cannot be this handsome. But, he is real, and he’s looking at her.

And Soraya. 

“I—” She shakes her head, clearing her throat. “Is this—you already paid—”

“That’s not for the bill,” his voice is so velvety, smooth, and deep. “It’s your tip.”

Eyes widening, her gaze snaps to the wad of cash as Soraya continues to grasp and squeeze her shirt. She doesn’t even need to count to know that this is a nice amount of money. 

Too much.

“I can’t—it’s too much.” 

He chuckles, “do I look like I can’t afford it?” Her eyes roam over his big, muscular build dressed in fine, expensive looking clothes. He just oozes wealth. 

And power. 

“N–no.”

“Dealing with Samantha, trust me, you earned it.” Solana looks down, wanting to hide her small smile. His gaze redirects to the child in her arm. “Who is this?”

And just like that, Solana’s proud smile returns. “My daughter, Soraya.” It’s like Soraya knows she’s being discussed, lifting her little head to look at Roman. A big grin on her face before she buries her face into Solana’s neck. 

Roman makes a sound, and she can almost swear she sees the smallest smile on his handsome face. “She looks like you.”

That creates such a warm, fuzzy feeling in her stomach, “thank you…..”

He looks at her a bit confused, like her unspoken question surprises him, before answering. “Roman.” Roman. “Roman Reigns.”

Roman Reigns. Even his name is powerful.

It fits him.

Solana shifts Soraya around as she starts to get wiggly in her arms. “Well, thank you, Mr. Reigns.” She’s certain the shock of just how much money this random, rich stranger has given her hasn’t truly set in. Because if it had, she’d have a much more visceral response. 

A lot more.

“Roman,” he corrects. “Call me Roman.” 

“Roman….” 

Something indecipherable flashes in his eyes, something that makes her feel a bit unnerved under his intense stare. It’s broken, however, by her now irritated daughter.

“Mama.” Soraya makes her dissatisfaction at being still for too long known by punching her tiny fist against Solana’s chest. “Mama!”

“Shhhhh,” Solana kisses her temple, trying to quiet her down before someone makes Aldis aware of her presence. She looks at Roman, eyes softening, “thank you again.”

Truly. Honestly. He hasn’t the slightest clue how much this will help her. It’s why she can stand here without anxiety and concern about making it to the bus stop on time. Tonight.....tonight she’ll treat herself and her baby with calling an Uber instead. 

Might even stop and pick up dinner.

Roman nods, eyes briefly glancing at her daughter again, the smallest smile on his face. “I’ll see you later, Solana.” His head dips a bit in acknowledgment towards her baby. “Soraya.”

The smile is plastered on her face even as he walks off without another word. And it’s only a good two minutes later that she catches onto what he said. A certain word in particular standing out the most. 

What did he mean by later?

[mommaboyhalo]

Bill Close accidentally taking over as Scary's Warlock patron after Willy is gone is one of my favorite silly headcanons

Like imagine after S2, Scary assumes magic is over for her. Normal has his druidic family to teach him their ways. Taylor is a fucking demonic entity it's just in his blood, and Linc is too stubborn to let go of his. She's ready to move on.

Until it's not.

She's in her room writing music and hears something at the back of her mind saying "Hey kiddo that's pretty cool". At first she's freaked out, is Willy back? Is Taylor's weird demon grandpa coming to bother her? Maybe it's just Terry Jr and his weird sorcerer shit.

But when she's in the zone playing music or writing it or even listening to it there is something at the back of her mind trying to break through. The power that coursed through her veins feels revivified. A stranger that feels so fucking familiar she can't place her finger on it. After awhile she crumbles and knows it's something otherworldly trying to reach out to her. She knows it's not Willy it cannot be Willy.

Some conversation between her and Terry Jr going along the lines of "Do you ever feel like the magic is trying to talk to you? When you do things like play music?". Terry doesn't know how to help her and doesn't know any warlocks. He's aware of the feeling like you're being watched, like someone is looking out for you when you use your magic but he can't connect with Scary on that level. He suggests maybe it's some sort of bardic inspiration she's casting on herself but she knows that's not it.

So she carries on, having a jam sesh alone in her house. Absolutely tearing up an electric guitar with some rendition of an old song she found tucked away in a binder from a thrift store. Hand written notes, a song she feels so connected to and can't get out of her head.

Purple magical energy oozes from her fingers, the power coursing through her very state of being. Her hair is going everywhere her fingertips playing till she's sure she's bleeding but she can't stop till the song is over it's like she's possessed.

Everything stills, silence takes over the room. And there is an old man standing in the middle of her room wearing Faerune clothing and looking suspiciously like Taylor if he wasn't a demon. That same aura from Willy of "should be dead by now but can't die that easy". A man with long greasy hair, and a base guitar strapped to his back. He smiles at her and says "Hey that's pretty good! Want to go again?".

Bill Close isn't dead, he just hasn't been around as is his natural state of being. She doesn't know who this guy is, but he's powerful enough to be summoned by playing a song thats been stuck in her skull.

After a few songs he offers some "pointers". Each time she learns something knew she feels that strength returning to her. Magic energy whipping around the room when they play their duet. Each time he opens his mouth she's disappointed at what a fucking loser this guy is. But hey he gives her magic energy in exchange for tossing him a tune every now and then.

It's not really clear if Bill even knows what he's doing. He was just fucking off somewhere in Faerune and happened to catch a tune of his on the wind and here he is. "How do I contact you?" Scary asks him, he replies that he just shows up sometimes and to "Rock on"

Also imagine if you will she goes downstairs with electricity crackling off her and Terry comments "You look different, anything interesting?" And she's so confused. "I think I have a patron now?" She says.

"oh really? Who?"

"I think he said his name was Bill?"

And Terry barely remembers Nicky's grandfather. The man kind of dropped him off at Ravenloft and was barely around for the big fight. So he shrugs it off and says as long as she's safe.

Bonus:

Since Glenn is in the overworld now, he does a double take when he sees a man who looks exactly like his father running around with a "Butthole Ricochet" shirt. Blows it off because his dad is probably dead and running around hell.

[yuri-is-online]

Hello hello! Anon here. First of all, congratulations on getting accepted for your courses! Don't worry about trying to balance work and the blog, we will always be here waiting for you. Second of all, your whole Yutu AU has been really fascinating to look through. (Though that may be because of my bias toward Fire Emblem Awakening, as it was what got me into the series) Sorry for the incoming wall of text, but it's been giving me THOUGHTS.

So imagine this: whoever Yutu's dad is (I'll pick Azul for this example because I headcannon his English voice somewhere between Matt Mercer's Chrom and Olivert from The Legend of Heroes games) finds out who Yutu really is. You remember that cutscene after Chapter 13 in Awakening, with the Lucina reveal and Chrom has this: "You deserved better than a sword and a world full of troubles. I'm sorry."? Imagine Yutu hearing something like that: the acknowledgement of everything he's gone through, the pain of knowing his dad couldn't do anything and can't do anything more than offer words, and the reality that it might now be really possible to change the future? I imagine Azul breaking down after hearing all that because the last thing he wants to do is hurt Yuu or his son after everything he's been through. Oh goodness, the two of them both need hugs.

Second: did Crowley tip off the Magic Marshalls (because I think he would) and force Yuu to take the blame for his negligence (because he absolutely would)? Now imagine Yutu finding this out and telling his dad. Now his dad knows Crowley is a cheapskate who fobs his work onto everyone else without a second thought. And now he's responsible for having Yuu taken away and starting all this? Knowing the boys and how far they would go for Yuu I'd imagine they don't take that well. In other words, to slightly alter a quote from Regina in Once Upon A Time: "I guess killing a crow suddenly made the top of my to-do list."

Sorry for the wall of text but that's been rattling around in my head for a few days (so make of it all what you will). Hope you're doing well and looking forward to what's next!

-The anon who loves Riddle & Azul

AHHHHH (i feel like I always take forever to answer your asks I am sosososososososososo sorry, this one just drove me crazy in a good good way)

Listen fire emblem awakening was my entire personality for like all of middle school.  The only thing i wanted to talk about was chrobin.  I celebrated Morgan and Lucina's birthdays by drawing them. I think I still have a Cherche x Libra fan art thing I drew on some sheet of paper somewhere in my things because I was SO MAD that no one shipped them and I couldn't find fan art of them anywhere and I just oooooooooooh.  THE WAY CHROM GETS A NEW CRIT LINE ABOUT HOW ANYTHING CAN CHANGE AFTER THE REVEAL???? BECAUSE OF HOW DETERMINED HE IS TO KEEP THAT PROMISE AND GIVE LUCINA A BETTER WORLD???? i just cant be normal about them i am so sorry.  R+A annon I love you, I love you so much for this you made my entire month and possibly my year.  Awakening is also what got me into the series and made me so many friends I just love her so much.  She's an icon and I hope she gets remastered with Sumia either deleted or with a fucking personality.

I should probably sit down and actually write a timeline for myself of events, but since I am free to lean in to the fire emblem pacing, I want to say that monsters from Yutu's timeline start showing up (similar to how the Risen do in Awakening) in the past and stirring up trouble, which leads to an event where Yutu panics and forgets himself in his desperation to protect his dad.  The main way the future kids always proved themselves was by showing their mother's wedding ring, but Yutu doesn't have that so really it's just up to his dad to see someone who looks like him and Yuu blended together, supposedly from Yuu's world using magic and above all else crying out and driving up his own blot levels to protect him calling him dad. For Azul! Yutu it's especially painful, he feels like he already knows what his dad is going to say. That he's disappointed in him. That he has no idea how they could possibly be related. That he hopes in this future he turns out to be different. But that's not what happens.

Before Azul overblotted he was quiet. There's a similar quiet over him now, a similar look of tense surprise, but Yutu- no- his child doesn't know that. His child is looking at him in fear, in worry for his reaction or his safety he doesn't know but he knows the way those tears start to form. Azul knows the quiver of the lip and the shriek, of all the things he could have passed on to such a treasure.

"You deserved better from me." Because it's true. He might think of himself as a work in progress but he still thinks he has quality; he would have done research, read every book he could get his hands on, taken classes, anything he would need to do to be a good father, a worthy partner. Anything. "You deserved to have the world within your grasp, not whatever shadow of a future and a father I left you with. I am so sorry." He does not expect Yutu to grab him and hold him like he's still somehow worthy of his love, but Azul can't fight the urge to grab back, to stroke his son's hair and let the tears fall on his suit without any care at all. I'm here. It's ok, daddy's here, daddy's got you, he won't let anything happen to you.

As for your second question, I did not really write Crowley like that no. It was more like he was the first person mysteriously arrested after the Magical Marshall's decided to finally do their job. I was writing it like they wanted to ship Yuu away to cover up for their own incompetence in preventing seven overblots instead of properly investigating what might have caused that. He's not completely innocent though, so yes. The boys do not take it well at all. And please do not apologize for sending in your thoughts, I am so so slow but I love hearing from you.

[emmy-and-the-tieflings]

Heart of the Weave: Part 4

Chapter 21- Two Weeks Later

The surrogacy journey

“Baby, wake up.” Gale’s voice interrupts my deep slumber, where I notice a lot of drool covering the flesh of my left arm. Damn, I was in the middle of a really good dream, too.  “You know what today means.” My eyes shoot open rapidly as I recall that I'm supposed to test for pregnancy today, and I've been waiting for this moment for two fucking weeks that dragged on forever. 

“On it!!” Before I can even give Gale a good morning kiss, I flop not-so-graciously out of bed and grab the liquid from the kitchen counter, as well as the needle to prick my blood. Remember, Emmy: purple means pregnant. I slam the bathroom door behind me shut, and can hear Gale from the other side: 

“Aw, I didn't even get a good morning kiss. No matter, you're worth waiting for.”

“Gale, honey, this isn't some fancy romance novel.”

“To me, it is.” Oh stop it, you corny bastard. “Anyway, I love you. I'm getting the babies changed and dressed for the day. Let me know what the results are.” I take a deep breath as I take the needle and prick my finger ever-so slightly, then place three droplets of blood in the liquid. I sit on the toilet, staring at the floor anxiously as I wait for the results. As I’m waiting, I hear a knock from the front door, which makes me even more nervous considering the chances of it being Therran are pretty high.

“Ah, hello gentlemen! Emmy, your brothers are here!” Fuck. FUCKITY FUCK. This is, without a doubt, the worst possible timing for them to come over. What if the procedure didn't take and I have to give terrible news? Then I realize how odd I've been feeling lately, so maybe…just maybe…

 I slowly turn my head toward the container to look at the liquid, and…

Purple. 

I’m pregnant. Oh my God. I am able to give Therran his child. OH MY GOD. I somehow managed to contain my screams, though it was quite the challenge. 

“Gale, honey, can you come here real quick before I come out there?” I shout from the bathroom, and not even ten seconds later he opens the bathroom door. Before he even takes a look at me, he notices the purple liquid indicating I'm pregnant. “Don't you say a word!”

“Oh my… Sorry, you told me not to say a word.”

“Ha-ha, smartass. Sorry. I love you. Don't tell them yet! Do they know I'm taking the test today? Why are they even here?”

“To answer both questions at the same time, I'm not sure, they didn't say anything. However, Fanden did mention a surprise for you. Come out whenever you're ready.” 

So, I have a plan. I'm not going to mention the pregnancy at all until later today. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I'm so excited, but I also want to…leave him guessing a little bit. Maybe throw out some hints, if I'm smart enough to pull that off. 

I leave the bathroom and head into the living area, where my brothers are waiting for me. Onyx must be with Halsin for the day, so it looks like it's just us three going out for some family quality time. 

“There's our baby girl!” Fanden greets ecstatically, and I can't help but smile at his welcoming words. Both brothers smile at me as I approach and wrap my arms around them in a big embrace, trying my damned hardest to keep my mouth shut. 

“Mum! Mum!” Aelric runs up to me and hugs me in the process, so I lean down to kiss the top of his head. “Mummy!” 

“There's my little guy! Daddy made you breakfast. You better chow down, it smells delicious! Speaking of which…I'm hungry too.” 

“Well, the plan was for us to go grab breakfast, just the three of us, and–”

“THE BEACH.” Therran interrupts our brother, then clears his throat trying to contain his excitement. “Sorry. I really like the ocean in case you can't tell.” I squeal from excitement, then turn around, bolting towards my bedroom to scrounge for my swimsuit somewhere. 

“I knew she would be excited,” I hear Fanden comment from the living room. I wonder why they want to visit the beach all of a sudden? Do they suspect I could be pregnant, or is it legitimately a fun ‘quality time's moment? No matter, I get to swim and I'm pretty damn excited about that fact alone. I immediately find my swimwear, packing it in my bag along with some sun protecting oil and my sun glasses. 

“We won’t keep her too long, Gale. We promise.”

“Thank you, Therran. I hope you all have a spectacular time. I think the babies and I will visit Neeve today, so we may not be home when you come back.” Gale cusps his hands over my cheeks, then proceeds to place a very passionate kiss upon my lips that sparks an urge within me that I need to contain. “Have fun, I love you.” I notice it's taking everything in his power not to touch my stomach, which wouldn't even be a temptation if he didn't know I was pregnant. Good lord, Gale. 

“And I love you as well.” I lean down to kiss Jenevelle as she lies comfortably in her rocker, looking amused by everything around her. “Bye little one.”

Okay Emmy. Don't say anything until you get to the beach. That's the goal, anyway, but who knows how long I can keep a secret. However, if one of them brings up anything first, I may be in trouble. I follow my brothers to the carriage, walking a little slower so I can think properly, but they turn around and eventually notice I'm far behind them. 

“Emmy, are you okay?” Fanden asks, realizing I'm not my usual perky and hyper self today. I snap out of it and sigh, racing toward them so we can hurry up and get our asses to the boat. 

We get on the carriage to head to Waterdeep so we may get on our father’s boat to the island. The entire ride, I'm feeling peckish and nauseated just a tad, but I try to contain myself the best I can. I notice Therran smiling as he and Fanden sit across from me, studying my face. He’s about to say something, and boy is it obvious. 

“So, my precious baby angel of a sister, not to pry or anything…” Aw, shit, here we go. Just what I was hoping wouldn't happen. “Are you taking that test tomorrow or the next day? And are you feeling alright? You look…a little pale.”

“Baby girl?” Fanden’s voice is hinted with concern as well, realizing I am feeling off. They also notice a familiar look in my eye, the same one I had when I was pregnant with Aelric. 

 Part of me is tempted to polymorph Therran just so I can avoid his question, but I fight off those intrusive thoughts and try to think of what I'm going to say. It isn't the wisest idea to polymorph your own brother, that's for sure, plus I would never hear the end of it. Then, I pull the dumbest excuse in the book:

“I’m a little peckish. Like, stupid hungry… Can we talk about this on the boat when my stomach has been fully satisfied?”  Therran continues to smile, not even noticing that I'm stalling. Or at least he's really good at hiding it. 

“Absolutely.”

 When we arrive in Waterdeep, I notice I'm feeling much weaker than before. I felt this way last night before bed as well, but it's much more…present today. It's only the beginning, unfortunately, and who knows how brutal this pregnancy will be? Luckily, the boat is right around the corner, and we will be sitting at a table eating the entire ride to the island. I just want some goddamn pancakes. 

Fanden and Therran hold my hands, assisting me onto the boat so I don't fall, and then we get seated at the nicest table around. Thank you dad for allowing us this fun time together, but also: can we use this boat more often? Because I kind of love it. 

 What's wonderful too is that our breakfast was already prepared; my father must have told them exactly what we love to eat beforehand, which is great because I feel like I'm dying of starvation. 

“Ah, yes. Breakfast at last!” Therran states as he stares heavily at the delicious steak potato bowl in front of him that smells rather divine. I, of course, have the pancakes, and Fanden indulges in the same thing Therran does. I stare at my plate, thinking now is the right time to spill the tea with the news. As I prepare to take my first bite, I decide I can't wait much longer. Impatience eats through me like a hungry parasite that can't contain itself. 

“Emmy baby?” Therran’s voice is worrisome as he stares at me contemplating, noticing I'm unable to take a bite. He suddenly appears to be sad, and he probably assumes that I’m not pregnant. Oh buddy, you're in for a plot twist. 

“So, um, Therran.” I smile in hopes it reassures him, though my voice cracks as I try to fight the urge to cry. He pauses immediately and places his fork down on the plate in front of him with a trembling hand. I notice a fearful look in his eyes as he waits for me to speak, yet he seems rather curious. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly how he's feeling. “I wanted to let you know I took the test this morning, and right as you guys came over, I had just found out… I'm pregnant. The procedure stuck, and… You are going to be a father at last.”

Therran and Fanden both freeze, but Therran tries to respond to my words; unfortunately, all that comes out is gibberish. 

“Wh-you-huh? What?! You-” I stare at him with a raised eyebrow, continuing to smile as he panics just a little. “I'm…” He begins to breathe heavily, his eyes hyperfocused on me as he tries to fully process what he just heard come out of my mouth. 

“Therran, you’re going to be a dad…” Fanden murmurs to him, his smile also very contagious as we all sit here trying to process each other’s heavy emotions. “Brother?”

Therran begins to sob, but his undeniably charming smile won't fade. In fact, it's the widest I've ever seen, and I can tell it's taking everything in him to stay calm. Meanwhile, there's me, who is trying hard not to chow down on my fucking pancakes. 

“Baby angel, I really want to hug you right now. Thank you for giving me…” He can't even finish his sentence due to choking up from his intense emotions of pure joy and ecstacy. I stand up and reach in to hug him, feeling his tears soak my shirt. “I love you so much.”

“And guess what, big brother? I love you too.” Therran stands up right as the boat departs, where the people of Waterdeep are all around the city, enjoying the surroundings, sights and ocean. My brother decides to stand up, raise his arms up in the air, and shouts: 

“I’M HAVING A BABY!” 

[out-of-luck-and-minorly-stuck]

Secrecy || Wandanat

(Alternate Universe)

Natasha has always been obedient. Does literally everything that the Red Room has tasked her to do, which was mainly to assassinate people.

It wasn’t like she was given much of a choice anyway, she just does it.

Her goal was to seek information then kill mercilessly. She was so used to it that she doesn't really feel guilt anymore. All that's on her mind is to kill. Because that was her place in this world, to kill.

Wanda, on the other hand, was on the opposite side of Natasha's. Though, they haven't seen each other but they are fully aware of each other's reputations.

Nat, being the most dangerous assassin that she is, and Wanda, being one of the earth's defenders, an Avenger.

Wanda was bored... and hungry, but mainly bored one night. Her face scrunched, not wanting to get up. It was also like quarter till midnight so she really should be asleep by now, but she's not. And she can’t just go outside her room and get snacks, people would think she was like sleep walking… again.

It's okay, happens to most of us.

As she rolled over to another position, finding a spot on her bed, she felt a sudden vibrate from her phone which said, received a message from "Tasha".

U awake? :/

Yeah, why r u still up

Well, I can't sleep. Something's been eating me alive lately, I need to tell u something.

U can tell me anything now, u know

Yeah, but I feel like it's more appropriate to tell you this in person.

Oh alright, meet me at our spot? :0

Sure. Thanks, Maxi :) stay safe, love

She immediately got up from her bed, grabbed her red jacket, tied up her shoes, and quietly attempted to sneak out of the Avengers Compound.

The things that she does for the girl… damn.

She is literally sneaking out for the night, couldn’t get anymore exciting than that.

Walking past the kitchen, tiptoeing only to hear a sudden cough from someone behind her.

Fuck, I'm screwed... She thought, as she slowly turned her head only to find Pietro, who crossed his arms, looking at Wanda suspiciously.

"What are you doing? Also, why are you sneaking away in the middle of the night? Oh- Are you meeting your girlfriend somewhere?" Pietro asked a million questions at a wide-eyed (also so close to having a heart attack) Wanda. Noticing the other girl’s expression, Pietro smiled smugly at the other girl, who shook her head at her twin. He knows she's queer and supports her. But your lovely girl, Wanda here, is still closeted.

"Shut up, she's not my girlfriend" Wanda chuckled at her brother's comment.

Then quickly added "Please don't tell anyone, I'll be quick" Wanda pleaded, as the guilt was slowly washing on her. They can never know that she's meeting up with the one and only, Black Widow.

"Okay, but promise me you'll be quick?"

"Of course"

-

Wanda walked into the familiar path of her and Nat's secret place was. As the fresh zephyr flows through her, she smiled, looking at the moonlight above her.

She silently walked as she arrived at her destination, a small park around the city's uncrowded areas.

Looking around slowly, she spots Nat sitting on a bench, waiting patiently.

She instantly smiled at the scene, Nat looked cute, although the other girl would not hesitate to argue with her when she says it out loud.

She walked up to the girl, sitting down with her while mumbling out, "Hey".

"Hey, Um- I have something to tell you, little red" Nat whispered out loud enough for Wanda to hear.

"Yeah?"

"Um, I don't know how to say this but-"

"Take your time, love"

"I was originally tasked to kill you..." Nat looked down, whispering. She couldn't look at Wanda's face after saying that.

"Why didn't you?" Wanda whispered back, softly.

"Because... I can't- I couldn't- I- I couldn't imagine killing someone I'm in love with"

[404name-not-found]

Vent post about system stuff incoming:

Also if you don't support in-system relationships just fuck off this specific post ok? Not in the mood to hear it

The concept of spending the rest of my life only ever half able to touch my wife (he/they) is fucking depressing. I can feel him because I mainly sit internally, and I know he can, to some degree, feel a ghost of where I'm touching him (not that way I'm referring to cuddling and kissing the rest is no one else's business) but it's not the same.

I will never be able to hold him the way his partner with a separate body can. While I'm not jealous of said partner, it does feel like something about me will always be inferior. I know if I had my body, I would not be able to hear his thoughts and know his feelings so we wouldn't work as well as we do, and probably would not be anywhere near as in love as we are because we don't deal with all the time wasted by misunderstandings and such. But I also know that if I had my body I could marry him legally, and I could be supporting him because my body was not disabled. I could take care of him in ways I just can't as things are. If I had my body, I could fill the roles I can't fill because we share a brain and body.

I wish with everything in me I had my body and still had the ability to communicate the way we do. I wouldn't have seen him in so many abusive relationships. I wouldn't watch him struggle to get things done and get what he needs. I was able to work in my fictional canon! I made plenty enough to support us! But I can't.

I know a miracle let me literally cover a gap between worlds to let us be together even though here I'm considered fictional. And somewhere deep down I know it wasn't a miracle, it was a world of hurt I wish he'd never gone through. And I know I should just be grateful I have him and we can be together despite how absolutely impossible it realistically is that we managed this.

I couldn't imagine a world without him, and I would never want to take the step back that would come with losing sharing the same head the way we do, but there's just a lot about sharing a body that makes a relationship like ours feel like we're so close to being perfect and the only thing in the way is one missing electrified meatsuit.

Don't misunderstand, while despite all the scientific knowledge I do have, I have no understanding of the science that makes it so he can kiss the air or a pillow using the body and *only* have the same biological reactions as he would with another body if one of us is kissing him in the head at the same time, I am eternally grateful for it. But for once, would like to stop being scientific wonder and be a man and his wife with nothing extraordinary besides the amount we love each other.

There's nothing to say or do to make it better; I'll feel okay tonight when he's laying in my arms since the body dissociates well enough when we're laying down to sleep that we can almost entirely feel each other, but for now it sucks and there's nothing that's ever going to change it. I spend 99% of my time grateful that I was given the chance to know him and love him and be loved by him and I wouldn't risk it for anything, but that doesn't mean I don't wish we could fill that last gap to where this would be perfect for him the way it is for me.

He deserves a relationship that can give him everything someone with another body can with someone who would *never* use that body to cause him harm, not with someone who is in the process of being taught not to. He deserves to kiss someone without flashbacks of that person forcing that kiss a few short years ago.

He deserves to have the whole experience of a relationship with someone who genuinely loves him without any backstory of beating or assaulting him in any way. Instead the closest he gets is always wondering if the only reason I'm safe is because I don't have a body to hurt him with. And I do not blame him at all for wondering that - every non-middle school relationship he's had besides one that didn't end up with that happening has been with those of us in his head. But I want to prove to him that people can love him without causing pain. That he SHOULD be loved in ways that do not cause pain. That no one should be hurting him and calling it love and there is nothing about having a body that causes them to behave that way. That what they did was choice they made and kept making, not inherrent to using body separate of his. Maybe then he'd be able to understand that he deserved better than what he got.

[gentleeclipsey]

Was it worth it?

I swear to god if this is who I think it is I'm going to lose my fucking mind. I'm going to be brutally fucking honest about my feelings and I don't care, if you decide to read this that's on you. I have blocked you five times, there is a hint and then there's a blatant get the fuck away from me.

But, if you're not who I think you are, in some capacity I'd say yes. Fair warning, a lot of bad stuff mentioned, also a bit of a rant because I've never told anyone outside a few friends who aren't on tumblr. Also I'm sorry, this is gonna be long and disjointed, the whole thing makes me angry to an unnatural degree, I've never been this angry at someone in my life. TL;DR just below the cut:

TL;DR: my ex destroyed my mental state and Trollhunters made me realize that, now I'm single and happier for it. Now onto the rage.

I made a lot of friends despite my partner's actions, and I have characters who I absolutely love, I'm free, I feel good, I'm not scared to be alive. I'd say it wasn't worth all the bullshit I put up with. I'm angry at myself because I was so spineless, even now I still can't fucking make heads or tails of half the shit that happened.

I don't care anymore. They'll always see me as a horrible person, I did my best and I was never enough, I'd never be enough no matter how much I tried. No matter how many times I cried, no matter how many times I had to hide things from myself so I wouldn't leave new marks, no matter how many times I apologized, it'd always be my own fault and at this point I've just accepted I was fucking pathetic and horrible and I don't care. I had to spend every waking fucking moment catering to them, talking to them, and they'd get angry because I wouldn't realize what was wrong and I wouldn't fucking pry it out of them and bend over backwards for days to make them feel better. I had to ask for a break somewhere in the middle because between classes, work, and them, I was so fucking overwhelmed and I tried to explain it to them but they didn't believe me or didn't care but every time they had the chance they'd rub my face in the fact they were so hurt over the fact I needed a break to regather myself.

Mind you, their pain was more important than mine. When I first had Jackie, she was my favorite OC. I loved using her, I still do, but they hid their feelings about her for so long that when they told me they didn't like her and called my emotions toxic for being upset. When they tried to rub that break in my fucking face again I told them about the absolute painful hurt I felt over what they told me and most essentially they basically told me that pain didn't mean anything because it wasn't like their pain. I was fucking trying to craft her to be appealing to them, to make her what they wanted so we could just be happy again but they fucking threw all that out the window.

Wanna hear the best part? I couldn't fucking talk to anyone outside of them publicly, even to use Jackie with others despite the fact they hated her. I have Sage to thank, because they were the first person I interacted with publicly that made me start seeing my partner for who they were. They got so fucking mad over a short text RP, later told me they wanted me to make friends, then fucking went back on it and fucking got upset because I apparently treated people I talked to casually better than them.

They rubbed my face in the fact they had breakdowns in public because of shit they started. When I'd pass out they'd get quiet with me and have a short temper but if they passed out I had to be understanding. If they vanished for days at a time I wasn't allowed to be upset but if I vanished they'd have a fucking breakdown. I made myself be so understanding to them becsuse they were sick and they never fucking thought twice. Never. Because I wasn't sick like them that meant I always had to be perfectly fine. Always. Perfectly. Fucking. Fine. They admitted to me they tried to train me. Train me. Like I'm a dog. Like I'm a fucking dog. I cannot begin to tell you the absolute whirlwind of rage I felt in the moment I read that but I kept my head by some fucking miracle.

Trollhunters is what broke the back of all the shit that'd been happening. It started with Undertale, it ended with Trollhunters, and they took my fucking OC from me and told me for years that that OC wasn't mine exclusively, and now I don't have a fucking choice. I can't even begin to describe the absolutely disgusting anger I feel over the fact I literally can do nothing to get my OC back because they've told me for years she wasn't mine and I can't fucking remember anything clearly and I doubt myself constantly now. I cannot begin to describe the absolute disgust it makes me feel I can't do anything to fucking get my OC back and that I hate more of my OCs because of their bullshit.

To contact a fucking artist, an amazing, wonderful person fucking 5 years later and say that I stole their OC and to take down the art? What the fuck. Funnily enough, I have Jackie most specifically to thank for making me realize! Wanna know what the fuck they said to me? "I was upset because I felt you loved her more than me." I WISH I WAS FUCKING LYING. I have so few screenshots but Jesus fucking christ I cannot explain to you the absolute seriousness in which that was stated.

I cannot even begin to describe the anger I feel over everything that happened. Not in the fucking slightest. They always accused me of not loving them anymore, of hating them, when they first started saying that it wasn't true, but now I can't fucking stand the idea of them anymore. I hope they see all the shit I do now, how much I draw Jackie being happy despite their shit.

So yeah. I have Trollhunters and Jackie to thank for helping me realize how bad things had gotten, because if it weren't for my absolute hyperfocus on it I don't think I would've seen what'd happened as soon as I did. There are so many emotions in here I can't describe at all, and I know if they saw this they'd immediately try attacking me publicly. Hell they might see this because I've had to block four fucking accounts already. Five if you count discord.

I feel like I should've taken way more screenshots than I did, but I'm not going to post them, I want to move on from this but I have so much simmering rage over what's happened its taking me a while. They're not in the Trollhunters fandom, at least, they're barely on social media as is aside from lingering accounts. Trollhunters is my safe space now, as is Jackie and my closest friends.

[cozza-frenzy]

For some reason tumblr isn't letting us reply to this ask "properly", so fuck it, text post time. Hope you see this, anon. Oh boy. Well, we often end up telling this story because a lot of systems tell us they've never seen anything like it before, but if you guys do have something similar you have my sympathy. Dealing with it wasn't easy, it wasn't fun, and we were very lucky that someone (Vimes) showed up to stop it from causing further harm. This story may be disturbing; it also talks about events in our inner world. For any non-systems reading this, the Inner World is a visual reference tool that out system gives us in order to better understand the mood and mental state of parts. It gives us unique appearances "in our head", and gives us ways to work through our trauma by creating memories of places and each other within it. This isn't a hallucination or a delusion; it's our subconscious adapting to dissociative parts that act like separate people, and sometimes it can do just as much harm as good. (Continued under the cut)

So here's the thing - when you have DID/OSDD (at this point we're not sure which one) and your brain has been suppressing almost everything about this for a long time, often it has a lot of catching up to do. Alters can start to emerge very quickly, either coming out of dormancy or spontaneously forming from specific types of trauma. What happened in our case, though, was every single trauma "category" that hadn't formed an alter yet got stuck together. And this didn't form one alter with a lot of trauma; instead it formed a kind of huge "pseudo-alter", one that manifested not with an in-system body, but as an entire place within our inner world. That was The Red Forest. Initially, we thought it was just another place. A forest full of birch trees with bright red leaves, with a thick carpet of red leaves covering the floor - it was completely silent, and even the sounds of footsteps and voices sounded odd, like something was stopping the sound from traveling. Needless to say, it gave us all the creeps. But then we saw someone new come out of the Red Forest - and we figured okay, sure, I guess this is how our brain handles this now. Alters have to come from somewhere, so this is where alters come from. I even went in there once myself, riding on the back of Rakugaki (now a part of Anarchy) because I could sense there was someone in there who was lost, and that was how we found Holiday. Oh boy, was that a mistake. Turned out The Red Forest didn't just feel hostile; it was hostile, in the sense that a wild animal whose territory you just invaded is hostile. All that unresolved trauma hadn't formed something intelligent; it'd formed a huge pile of hurt, anger, fear and pain, that was now aware of where the pieces that kept breaking off it kept going. Within a few days we started to hear horrible noises in the front, like tearing metal or animals being slaughtered, and then the entire thing - the entire Red Forest in itself - attempted to front. It over-wrote our fronting room and dropped all of us right in the middle of it, only withdrawing when it realized it couldn't actually control the body in the state it was in. But nonetheless it took out its rage on Chaos; unlucky enough to get trapped inside of it, it ended up being injured in the Inner World, something that can't normally happen unless someone really wants someone else to be hurt. The first thing it said upon finally getting out - after me and Rakugaki went in there again and spent three real-world hours trying to find it - was "don't go in there, it hates us". We're only lucky that the very next alter I spotted emerging from the forest - from a safe distance, on our in-system "cameras" - was Vimes. He's a specific type of gatekeeper we call a Jailer, who can lock down areas of the Inner World, and he was able to keep the Red Forest contained where it was. He was able stop it from fronting (though it certainly didn't stop trying) and was able to go in there with his lantern - back then, our Inner World's only representation of hope - and lead other alters to join the rest of us. We put a contingency plan ("Operation Kaiju") in place in case it ever escaped containment. But even at its worst we only ever enacted the first half of that; I realized it could be reasoned with, and attempted basic communication through Vimes' barrier. It only ever said one thing with words, and it was "thank you". After the emergence of Jenova, The Red Forest "died" on July 31st 2023, and no longer exists in our system. Our remaining alters found their way to us of their own accord. Chaos still has a special bond with Vimes, and has made him part of its ever-growing adopted family. And we've marked the date on our calendar as our system's Collective Birthday, because it marked the beginning of the end of our system discovery. Whatever you have in your system, anon, I hope our story inspires yours to handle it however you can. Trust in each other, put your unique abilities and skills to good use, and work together. It's the only way to move forward. - Terry, Martin & Leaf

[terresdebrume]

A scene that will definitely not be in the modern Webgott fic but also it assaulted me this morning and refused to let go of my brain so. Yeah. Featuring trans!Webster before anyone knows he's trans.

Mom is in the middle of lighting the shabbat candles when Joe's phone goes off, and no one says a thing. Which is fucking rich, because Joe's always on Ruth's case about phone use during holidays and he's away most of the time, and he doesn't even shut the thing down right away! Ruth turns to Al, whose eyebrows are gratifyingly up in shock even though she's not saying anything.

"Joseph," Mom says, always in German, "turn that thing off, please."

"It's from Germany," says Joe, frowning and not actually turning it off, the rotary phone ringtone growing louder on the second run.

"Just ignore it," Jake says, glancing at Mom before turning back to Joe with a frown. "You don't know anyone in Germany."

"There's Virginia," Joe frowns, thumb already hovering over the screen. "And it's, what, two am over there?"

"All the more reason to ignore it," Ruth dismisses, trying not to sound as annoyed as she feels. "She's probably just drunk at a party somewhere and having a laugh."

Joe's mouth twists to the side, in that way he does when he thinks something might be a load of shit, which Ruth thinks is fucking rich. Virginia Webster has been a little shit in Joe's periphery for as long as Ruth can remember: apparently she insulted him on his first day working for her stupidly rich parents and hasn't stopped being a pain in the ten years he's been driving her and her equally rich and obnoxious family around. Ruth may have never met her—of course not, she lives in New York and is part of the reason why Ruth's eldest brother is a figure mostly confined to high holidays and the occasional New Year break—but she's heard enough to know it's not worth blowing shabbat for her.

"Joseph," Mom says, much calmer than Ruth feels, "ignore it or don't but stop that noise."

"Right," Joe says frowning harder as he gets up from his chair, prompting Judith and Rachel to finally join in the outrage. "I'll be a minute."

Ruth is still gaping, searing at Joe's retreating back as he makes his way up the stairs and tells his employers' daughter he's kind of busy—and in German, no less. At the head of the table, Mom and Al don't even look angry.

"Are you kidding me?" Ruth asks, watching Mom shake her match out. "We're waiting for him?"

"Of course we are, don't be rude, Ruthie," says Mom, frowning at where Joe disappeared.

"But it's not fair!" Ruth protests, not bothering to check her volume. "He's always on my ass about not having my phone out—"

"It's his job," Alma sighs. "He can hardly refuse to answer."

"So what, he could have just said he didn't hear his phone! They see more of him than we ever do already, and now they want him to pick up the phone when he's on leave, too? That's just bullshit!"

"Ruth come on," Jake tries, sighing on the last word, "it's the one time—"

"Yeah, that's how they start!" Ruth insists, frustration mounting at the lack of reaction from the rest of the family, "Next thing you know they'll be doing it every five minutes—"

"After ten years of respecting his time and right before his contract ends?" Judith asks, skeptical. "I think it's more likely there's a real emergency."

"Okay, and if there is why can't she call her rich family about it?" Ruth retorts. "We hardly ever see Joe—"

The heavy footfall of a grown man sprinting down the stairs cut Ruth short, Joe reappearing in the cramped, tiny living room and immediately going for the coat rack. That, at least, makes everyone pay attention. He doesn't even look pissed, is the thing, like it's perfectly normal for your boss--not even that, your bosses' kid--to call you from halfway around the world and start giving you orders long-distance. Ruth is about to protest, when Esther asks:

"You're leaving?"

"Just a couple hours," Joe says, sinking a hand into his pocket, presumably to check for his keys.

"She's not seriously sending you on an errand right now," Judith scowls, but Joe shakes his head.

"She had a car accident."

"Oh, shit," says Mom, one hand coming up to her mouth, "is she okay?"

"She says she's fine," Joe sighs, pausing to rest a hand on the back of Jake's chair and sighs in a way that makes him look profoundly relieved and unfairly burdened at the same time. "But Hoob and Van--I mean, the two guys she was traveling with are dead so she's probably downplaying her stuff."

Ruth's stomach clenches. She doesn't like any of the Websters on principle, and she's big enough to admit she's jealous, sometimes, that this Virginia girl seems closer to her brother than she feels... but she's not enough of an asshole to resent her Joe's concern right now. Basic decency and all that. That doesn't mean Ruth can't get confused, though.

"I don't understand," she tells Joe, "she's in Germany, what the hell can you do from here?"

"She's not in Germany, they were on a road trip to Belgium," Joe says wiping a hand over his face. "Place called Bastogne, apparently. She's got a friend who'll be willing to fly out, but he goes incommunicado during holidays so since his break residence isn't far she asked if I could drive there and let him know the what's what."

"What about her parents?" Mom asks, having firmly veered from potential irritation to concern.

Joe scoffs, dismissive.

"I'm the driver and she called me first, Ma, what do you think?"

Ruth stays quiet, but quietly adds a new, somewhat surprising reason why the Websters sound like fucking assholes. It doesn't make it okay that Joe's going to miss his last shabbat before he has to go back East, but it does make it easier to decide not to give him grief over it. She sighs, twisting her fingers together, and tells Joe:

"You'll be careful on the road, right?"

"Sure."

"And you let us know how it goes," Al adds, no room for argument in her tone.

"Yeah," Joe says, sighing again and fishing his car keys out of his pocket. "I'll eat when I'm back, don't wait up."

Mom nods, but Ruth knows they're all going to wait anyway. It's not like the food can't keep, after all, and as miffed as she was that Joe has to leave at all she doesn't want him to be penalized for helping a friend, thanks. So: they wait. Ruth trounces Jacob at pocker, then looses all of her peanuts to Alma when they bet on UNO, and then they dust off the snakes and ladder board with a corner chewed up from when Esther was little and in her eating paper phase.

And when Joe comes back with the reassuring news that the guy he want to fetch is flying out in the next couple of hours--thank you private jets, apparently--it's with a gift basket that's worth more than Jake's rent, so. There are compensations too.

[manslaught]

that's not what the rest of the world thinks. to them, it doesn't matter what mikayla went through her entire childhood, because there's plenty of kids who get hurt by their parents who don't end up hurting people and murdering their parent as a result. for so long, mikayla was angry about it, wishing they'd just see her side, that they'd understand she didn't think she had any choice but to become the person she did, to do what she did to him, but now she starts to wonder if maybe they were right. “ you're, like, one of five fucking people in the entire world who thinks that. ” and mikayla's not even entirely included in that anymore.

she frowns, not wanting to think back to that night at all, but she can't help it, looking down at her hands. “ it was— it was worse than what it looked like in the mugshot. ” there were pictures of her hands spread everywhere, she knows, but she's not sure how much attention was given to the rest of her own injuries. the broken ribs, bruised lung, all the stitches she had to get, and still, people question whether it actually was self defense. “ my hands are still fucked. ” that part is mostly her own doing, only scarred because she'd kept hitting him until her knuckles split, not stopping until she was pulled off of him, and they just never healed properly after that, leaving the scars that everyone stared at until she finally got so irritated with it that she bought gloves to hide them instead.

“ there's not. ” that's not necessarily true. her mother's offered to get her a place somewhere more private, but the idea of being separate from society gives her anxiety after the crash and her years spent in prison, no matter how horrible most people are. she scowls, irritated that tai would even try to accuse nat or travis for being the reason for all of this, shaking her head. “ i've had more people over than they ever have. ” only asher's family and brittany, and while she's not nearly as close to either of them as she is with nat and travis, she trusts them enough to know they aren't spreading her address around, either. “ it's whatever. they'll all get bored eventually. ” she hopes so, at least, because that's the only way she can see all of this coming to an end.

mikayla lets out an indignant snort; she knows all too well that parents aren't required to love their kids, because neither of hers ever did, but she can't expect tai to actually understand that— something she's grateful for, because she deserves to have parents who care. “ but i knew he didn't. and i still went back. ” she doesn't want to consider that place home, because she never really did, but she also doesn't want to remember the only time she felt like she was at home— when she was with tai, even in the middle of the worst situation possible. “ i would've told you no. ” or maybe she wouldn't have, really, because she was so terrified of what she'd have to deal with that she could've convinced herself to let tai help her anyway, but like tai said— they can't focus on what they should have done. it's too late for that.

it's hard for her to believe she won't just drag tai down if she becomes a part of her life again. she knows how much tai has accomplished, as much as she can know without asking her herself, at least, and the last thing she wants to do is ruin that— especially when she knows that, if she does, then all those years they spent apart were for nothing. but the moment tai admits she never stopped loving her, mikayla can't even focus on anything else, wondering for a moment once again if she's just hearing things again. she's afraid to believe her, afraid to get hurt again, but shoving her away doesn't feel like the right solution, either, not when she knows she'll spend the rest of her life regretting it.

she'd convinced herself that happiness was always going to be out of reach for her, that she destroyed her chances when she killed her father, but here's seemingly the only chance she has to be happy again, as long as she's not too afraid to take it. being with tai again won't fix everything— she'll still hate herself, still be hated by everyone else, but at least she'll have something again. tai was able to make her feel better in the worst place imaginable, so maybe she still can, despite everything she's done to hurt her since. mikayla says nothing, torn between arguing and just giving in, slowly looking back over to her. that's probably where she fucked up, because she can't look at tai, hear her tell her she still loves her, that she wants her back in her life, and not give in. she might regret it, but she had that same thought seven years ago, minutes before tai left to find help, and just like then, she ignores that possibility, letting out a frustrated sigh of defeat, reaching for the front of tai's shirt and pulling her close, lips finding herself before she could talk herself out of it.

she frowns,  because she never held any of that against mikayla.   and she knows that mikayla never held any of that against her,  either—    not even when tai was at her worst,   when she made herself believe that she had done something truly horrible to allie stevens,  mikayla had her back,   mikayla reassured her that she didn’t think she was a monster.    tai tried to do the same for her,   but not when it really mattered,   so she's trying to make up for it now.   ❝  no,  ❞    she says,  quickly shaking her head.   ❝  you’re not a bad person for it.   you went through shit no one should have ever gone through—   and you dealt with it in your own way.   you’re not a fucking monster for that,  mikayla.  ❞    when she learned more about her,  her incessant fighting made sense.   she didn’t have support,  and tai was happy to be that for her when they had the chance—   and she should have been after,  too.  

she looks away as she talks about that day,   a look of disgust on her face again,   but not at what mikayla did.    she hesitates,   unsure if she should admit the memory it brings her to,   a part of her telling her she definitely shouldn’t,   but she doesn’t want to keep anything from her.   ❝  i—  ❞    she almost immediately regrets it,   but she forces herself to go on.   ❝  i was sick when i saw what he did to you,  ❞    she says quietly,  sparing most of the details.   ❝  so,  i do mean it.    he deserved worse.   he deserved worse for making you feel like this now,   too.   you weren’t wrong for what you did.   i never thought you were.   ❞

she scoffs,  because it’s not a satisfactory answer for her.   ❝  there has to be something we can do,  ❞    she claims,    ignoring the fact that she keeps throwing around the term ‘we’ —  because they aren’t a ‘we’ anymore,   but it’s so hard to think of it any other way.   she’s sitting next to her now,   so she’s thinking about it,   thinking about how to help her together,  with her.   ❝  you deserve some peace.   privacy.  travis—  ❞    she finally says his name,  shaking her head.   ❝  he doesn’t bring strangers here,  right?  ❞    there’s a part of her that already knows the answer to that,  but she’s just trying to figure it out,  trying to decide how it is she can help her.   ❝  or nat?  or—  ❞    she finally wonders how it is that these people seem to have a place like this,   but it doesn’t feel like the appropriate time.  ❝  you shouldn’t have to be used to it.  ❞

her jaw clenches,  cheeks warming with anger at the way she speaks.   ❝  no!    he was your fucking father,   he should’ve cared about you.   you weren’t wrong for going there.  it was your home,  ❞    she reminds with a scoff,   shaking her head.   maybe some part of taissa wanted to believe that he could change,  too—  or at least that he would have calmed down in her absence.   it was the only way she could keep going on every day without talking to mikayla.    ❝  no.  no,  mikayla,  i should’ve just—  made you come home with me.   i shouldn't have let you go back there at all.   ❞    it’s not an attempt to blame herself for it,  because she’s sure that mikayla would have been weary of the offer back then,   and none of them knew what to expect in the coming days after their rescue,   but she’s thought of it many times before.   if she would have insisted mikayla just come with her,  sure,  it could’ve been a little messy with her own family,  with mikayla’s father still in the picture too,   but at least mikayla would’ve been safe from the beginning.   and maybe,  they wouldn’t have fallen apart the way they did.   ❝  we can’t just do this.   we can’t think about all the ways it could’ve gone differently,  but—   what your dad did to you is not your fault,  mikayla,  ❞    she says with more certainty than ever,  hoping some part of her hears her. 

the look mikayla gives her is one tai knows she should’ve expected,  but it still stings,  her own eyes looking back at her and pleading her to just let her stay,  for them to try to figure something out.    ❝  i know,  ❞    she whines,  frowning back at her,   because it does sting even more to hear it outright like that.   she shifts uncomfortably,  because the past tense threatens to destroy her completely,  even more tears forming in her eyes.   in the wilderness,  she was constantly terrified of hurting mikayla—  physically,  mostly,  because she rarely felt like she had control over her own body,  but at least she could count on her heart.   she knew she couldn’t hurt her emotionally,   not when she was all in on her.   but then she did anyway,   and she can never forgive herself for that— why should she ever expect mikayla to?   ❝  i know,  ❞   she says,  her words shaky.   ❝  and i’m so fucking sorry for that.   you didn’t deserve that.  i only ever wanted to make your life better—   and i don’t know how i let it go so fucking wrong.  ❞    in some way,  she does—  because she was focused on making her own life better,   and not including mikayla in that is what broke them both.   she gulps, surprised that mikayla’s actually willing to believe her,  but it brings her some kind of hope,  at least.  she gives her one small nod of relief,  but she’s still holding her breath,  because she doesn’t have much faith in herself to actually make this any better for mikayla.   she’s not going to stop trying, though.

she doesn’t want to regret the question she asks her,   but when mikayla gives her that look,  she wonders if she crossed a line.   it doesn’t feel fair to ask her that,  not when tai was the one who walked away and left mikayla all alone,  just to wonder.   but she doesn’t know where to go with this until she knows where mikayla stands.   and even then,  she’s not sure she has a definite answer,  either.   she frowns,  shoulders slumped,  and she knows it’s ridiculous to put too much faith in the idea of them being together again.   but she isn’t fucking happy,  and for so long,  she told herself she doesn’t need happiness.  and yet,  now here she is,  sitting in front of mikayla for the first time in six years,  and despite the anxiety she feels,  despite how sad she is to know how hurt mikayla is,   she feels it again— that small piece of happiness that tells her that mikayla is here.   and that's at least something.  

❝  don’t let what i did six years ago answer for you now,  ❞    she says,  shaking her head quickly.   ❝  i was wrong.   you wouldn’t drag me down.   i can’t—  i don’t want ‘better,’  whatever the fuck that means.   you were the best thing that ever happened to me.  i never stopped loving you,  i just tried so hard not to think about it.   and i failed.  every single time.   you made me happy during the worst time of my life,  and i—   it fucking scared me when we got home.   i was so scared it couldn’t ever be like that again that i just didn’t even try. ❞    her words are coming out desperate,  anxious,  nearly slurring together.   fingers are clenched into fists because she can’t hold mikayla’s hands,   so she has to focus on something else.   ❝  i know that i don’t deserve another chance with you.  and i know—  we don’t know each other anymore.   but maybe we can start at the beginning.  ❞     her brows furrow,  because she’s not sure how to actually ask it,   not when she still doesn’t have an answer from mikayla.   ❝  i want to get to know you again.   i want you in my life.   i want to be in yours.  i want to stop pretending that i’m fine without you because—  fuck,   even natalie knows i’m not,  ❞    she says,  briefly glancing towards mikayla’s room,  then back to her.   ❝  please.  tell me.   have you closed the door on us?  ❞    she asks again.

[wandasgf]

WHAT I WANT mdni. 18+.

pairings: emily prentiss x f!reader

synopsis: emily just can't wait until you get back to her apartment

content warnings: semi-public sex (office sex), fingering (r receiving), pet names, top!emily, bottom!reader

a/n: happy pride month! enjoy this short and sweet emily drabble ! it's my first time writing for her, so i hope you guys like it !

"Shh, shh, shh... someone could hear, baby. You've gotta be quiet." Emily mumbles as she presses soft kisses down your neck, her fingers pumping in and out of you at an unrelenting pace. "Can you be quiet? Can you do that for me?"

You feel her smile against your neck when you nod fervently, a quiet whimper escaping your lips as you bring your hand up to press against your mouth, effectively muffling and sounds you make. You're willing to do anything just for her to keep making you feel good.

In hindsight it probably wasn't the best idea for you two to have a quickie in her office in the middle of the day, but you can never find it in yourself to deny her of something she wants. You had also been the one teasing her throughout the entire morning, and again during your lunch break. So, really it shouldn't have been a surprise when she called you into her office to 'discuss some case files'.

While the rest of the team didn't bat an eye at the request, it was common for you two to discuss files together in her office, you knew that she had other plans this time. And, at first, you did discuss some files. You giving her a second opinion on whether or not a series of homicides were connected and whether or not they should be something the BAU pursued.

But somewhere between then and now, you had ended up sitting on Emily's desk with her between your legs and your pants hanging off of one of your ankles. You wouldn't normally do something like this at work, but you've both been so busy with a case that just wrapped up, you hadn't had any proper alone time in a week.

So, when Emily's hands found themselves wandering a bit too much, you hadn't even thought about telling her to cut it out like you usually would, telling her to wait until you got home. Instead, you only encouraged her, which is how you got here.

Emily crooks her fingers and you gasp into your hand, trying your best not to let any moans escape your lips. The heel of her palm is pressing and grinding against your clit just right and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to tipping over the edge. Your other hand grips the edge of Emily's desk so tight that your knuckles turn white.

Emily can feel it too, the way you tighten around her fingers and how your hips move to match her thrusts without meaning to. Her free hand moves to grip your hip, keeping you still as she fucks into you. "There you go, you're taking me so well." She coos, dragging her fingertips against that spot she knows you like.

She moves up to kiss you, moving your hand and leaving soft kisses up your neck and on your cheek on her way to your lips. The kiss is hungry, but soft in a way that only Emily can kiss you. Because she knows that if she's any rougher neither of you will be able to stop, and you still do have some work to get done.

One particular thrust has you gasping into her mouth and gripping at her shoulder. "That's it, baby." She pulls away from the kiss so she can look at you when you finally let go, she knows it's coming, but you accidentally let out a moan that's a bit too loud. She brings her other hand up to push two fingers past your lips, looking a bit too smug as she speaks, "I know, it feels so good, but I need you to be quiet, remember?" The weight of her fingers on your tongue has your head spinning and you nod slightly.

You were already close to tipping over the edge, but then Emily is looking at you like she wants to devour you, the smug look fading and being replaced with hunger. The sight of you with her fingers in your mouth, taking her so nicely, makes the throbbing between her legs more present. "I need you to cum for me, baby." She presses against your clit just right and you find yourself unable to hold back as you come apart on her fingers, biting down softly on the ones in your mouth.

Emily groans, letting you ride out your high and then slipping her fingers out of you gently, bringing them up to her mouth to clean them off. She hums in content at your taste and then dries them off with a tissue. "Who knew you'd be so excited to be at work." She grins, leaning forward to kiss you softly.

[suengmi]

ot8 skz prompt!

you cry when they barely raised their voice at you (but not in a too angsty way, they were just playing around w you) and they comfort you

also HAPPY LATE BDAY 🎉 (im gonna rob you for all ur seungmin and jisung pcs)

hehe thank you anon!! i went to see moulin rouge live and just had a kpop trade day/night with my bestie i was like "i'll swap u any of these two lee knows... for that mingi"

BUT YOU CAN'T HAVE MY SEUNGMIN ONES I'LL FIGHT YOU BARK i got like 26 different seungmin ones with 11 doubles... it's not enough, funnily bangchan is actually my ult in skz alkjsdlaksjd leave me alone seungmin got me WHIPPED

ANYWAYS!! warnings under the cut, i added pics for comedic effect. idk why my writing always goes humour, anyways i worked v hard on this!! and as always,i messed around with the prompt a did a few hurt!skz/you raising your voice at them hehe enjoy!!!

in alphabetical order

all non idol!au, all gn!, as always kinda proofread and lapslock

you're laying on the couch, nose stuffy and filled with tissues. you were always sensitive when you were sick, your head feeling like it's spinning and your body betraying you anytime you tried to stand up. chan was always a caregiver, he loved taking care of the people he adored. not one day went by where he didn't ask if you needed help or needed anything, you could always reassure him that his presence was enough, much to his scoffing.

☆⌒ヽ bangchan

warnings/other: living together, established relationship

you needed help to go to the shower, the steam would probably help. plus, you hadn't showered in two days due to how sick you were.

"babe?" you called out, voice weak.

"baabe?" you squeaked once again, trying to lift yourself from the couch. "baaaaabe?" and nothing, but you can hear him tip toeing around somewhere, the clunking sound of a bottle hitting the bathroom floor.

"babe!" you half yell, still trying to push your self from the couch.

chan rounds the corner, eyes frowning as he taps on the side of his headphone, "what?!" he screams at you, eyes scrunching and brows furrowed.

you burst into tears, suddenly feeling like you're in trouble for wanting help. "i'm sorry, i didn't know you were busy." you can barely speak, voice raspy and quiet.

"what?" he speaks again, pulling his headphones to rest on the back of his neck. this time his voice more gentle. he sees the tears forming in your eyes and immediately comes to your side. "what's wrong?"

"don't yell at me." you say through tears, hands coming to rub your eyes.

"shit," he curses, rubbing the sides of your arms, "sorry, i had my head phones on, i was running you a bath."

"oh," you sob, still letting yourself cry your hands dropping to your lap, "i thought you were angry at me."

"oh my god," he says pushing your messy hair out of your eyes while wiping the last of your tears. he sighs, "i just couldn't hear you silly."

"i've run you a bath, do you wanna have one together?" he stops and gives you a sniff, "you need one."

you frown, using the last of your strength to push him away, but it fails. "yes please..."

--

you're balls deep in your game, you've never been so focused on a game in your life. it's the final battle fight of the last of us 2, you wipe away tears at the scene before you folding out, feeling conflicted as the characters fight in the water.

☆⌒ヽ felix

warnings/other: living together, established relationship, cussing

"ahh!" you yell a bit too loud as you feels more tears form, "this is fucked up, fuck you both, fuck off this is so unfair."

"what did you say to me?" felix says, turning from his pc to look at you. "did you just tell me to fuck off?"

"what?" you turn to felix, eyes back darting back to the screen for a moment, still in the middle of the battle.

"what the hell? why did you tell me to fuck off?" felix says as he scrunches his nose, clearly upset and confused. "what the fuck?"

"no! oh my god, no." you scrambled to pause the game, getting to your feet to stand by felix, "no, no, i was talking to the game!"

"you lyin'?"

you roll your eyes, "why would i say that to you? ellie is fighting abby, and i'm telling them both to fuck off, not you!"

"oh," he says, pleasantly surprised, "valid then."

you press a gentle kiss to his forehead, he looks up at you still kinda upset. "baby, if i were to ever tell you to fuck off it'd be because you ate the last of the bread."

he smiles, eyes crinkling into moons, "oh that's true."

"you wanna watch?"

he scoffs, "god no, i already cried at that a month ago. hell no."

--

"get back here!" changbin screams, running across the field to catch you.

☆⌒ヽ changbin (LMAO THE PIC)

warnings/other: new relationship, play fighting

"no, no!" you yell back, a grin on your lips, you dart around the edge of the tree, seemingly hidden (well, you think at least.)

dating changbin had been a whirlwind, he was kind, funny, silly in the best ways and so cared for you like no one had. it had only been a month, but you were so damn in love with him, even though you were still getting to know him. everyday you were excited to find out more about him, it was never enough.

there's a silence in the air, your eyes dart around the edge of the tree. after a moment or two, a voice screams suddenly, "got you!"

"ah!" you scream, feeling hands aggressively wrap themselves around your waist. you had always been a scaredy-cat, any loud sound would startle you and send you into a frightened mess.

"all mine!" he said as he pulled you to the ground, arms still wrapped around your waist.

you feel trapped, his large arms wrapping around you. you can feel the anxiety in your chest, flight taking it's hold over freeze.

"changbin! that really scared me!" you cry out, but he's relentless.

"too bad, i win!" he chuckles loudly, pushing you to lay on your back, his muscles bulging as he pins you there. he slowly loses his smile when he meets your upset scowl, mouth turned down at the sides.

"baby, no-" he says searching your face, "i'm so sorry, was that too much?"

"yes," you say in a low tone, wrapping your arms around his neck. "i get startled easily,"

"i didn't know, i'm sorry." he apologises again, lifting you up to deepen the hug. you melt into his frame, enjoying being engulfed by your boyfriend, though pocket sized, he seemed much bigger than you in moments like this.

this is your chance to get him back, you smile into his neck before pressing a sharp bite down on his collarbone.

"hey!"

--

usually, hyunjin was the patient one.

☆⌒ヽ hyunjin

warnings/other: living together, established relationship

he would always happy to wait for you when you were getting ready, always be okay with you needed to run back inside and pee because you would probably forget and always, he would always wait for you to tell him what you wanted or how you felt, never pushy once.

you were upset, getting fired from your job. it wasn't your fault, just the reality of the job market right now. 'no more funds.' they had said. you were floundering., wallowing in self pity (and rightfully so.)

when hyunjin arrives home, it's ten oclock at night. you're sitting on the couch, balled in a blanket. the lights are off, black smoke seeming to surround your nest of pillows, the only light on your face was from the tv.

"hey beautiful-" hyunjin says cheerily before being met with your tired eyes, black rings around the bottom. "what's wrong?

"nothing." you scoff, hiding more of yourself.

"babe-" he says softly, kicking his shoes off and dropping his bag. he comes to your side immediately, hands rubbing up and down your side. you say nothing, shifting away from his touch.

he sighs, "you wanna tell me what's wrong?" he seems tired.

"no." you say lowly, turning up the tv volume.

"are you... sure?"

you say nothing as you kick him with your foot, still wallowing and watching the tv.

"fine, be like that." he scowls, voice slightly raised as he shakes his head. he shuffles to the kitchen counter, gripping the soda left on the bench top. he takes a sip, looking back at you, clearly annoyed. "i'm not in the mood."

hyunjin was never one to raise his voice, never had he done that to you. he patience seemed to have be worn thin this time.

"no i didn't-" you sigh, trying to gather your words.

'i have bad days too you know, it's not just you."

you sit up, blanket falling down the back of you. he's right, he's always right. "that was not cool, i'm sorry."

you look over him with sad eyes. he's now leaning over the counter, hands digging into his scalp.

you get up from the couch, readjusting the blanket over yourself as you shuffle to his side. you bump your head into his shoulder, looking up at him with wide eyes. "i love you."

"i love you too," he sighs, leaning his head on yours.

you sit like that for a moment before he speaks. "i got fired."

"no way same."

you both look at each and laugh in disbelief, how on earth did this happen?

--

jeongin was so cute, so damn cute. he reminded you of how cute he was every time he did, well, basically anything. but sometimes, he was really secretive. you didn't know why, until you had come to his house the first time. you hadn't been together long, but you were over joyed when he invited you over for dinner.

☆⌒ヽ jeongin

warnings/other: fresh relationship, not smutty but heavy descriptions and mentions of hentai lmao, pg i guess

"bone app the teeth!" he chimed, placing down the bolognaise he had made. it looked and smelled delicious, and you loved the cute frog bowls he had put them in. it made him that much cuter.

"eee! it looks so yummy." you squealed, "wait gotta pee."

"okay, down the hall to the left" he said plopping himself down, proud of his masterpiece. he sat up, making sure to clarify. "oh not the second door, the first one!"

you didn't hear the last part as hurriedly made your way down the hall. you looked at two doors, two seemingly the same. 'i think he said the second?'

you open the door in a hurry, being met with a large pillow of an anime woman, giant boobs out and her legs parting in display. you just stand there in shock, taking in the sight before you.

"helloooo." you said curiously, stepping into the bedroom. on the light stand there was a figurine. her boobs were seemingly wet, the short skirt she had lifted up behind her, thong busting out. a few more adornments, mostly lewd plastered the room.

"babe?" he called out as he walked down the hall. his eyes met with your curious ones, a smirk slapped across your face.

"babe!" he yelled, pulling you back by your arms. "i said first door! why didn't you listen!?"

"ow!" you said in surprise, feeling a lump of guilt building in your throat. he had never yelled at you before and it scared you. "i'm sorry i didn't hear you."

he sighed shaking his head, "i told you not to go in my room!"

"stop yelling at me..." you mumbled, wincing away from him.

quickly he pulled you out of his room, accidentally slamming the door behind him, it made you jump.

"jeongin-" you started but the lump in your throat grow. "i just got the wrong door, don't yell at me."

you stood in silence for a moment before he spoke up, rubbing the back of his neck, an unsure grin on his face, "i just didn't want you to see yet, i'm sorry i yelled."

you turn back to him, eyes tracing his face. he'd been caught. "theeee hentai?" you smirked, standing on your tippy toes.

jeogin's face burnt red, ears tingling with embarrassment. he scrambled to say something, but nothing came out. just splutters of words.

you laugh, "do you seriously think i'd be upset about that?"

"i don't know..." he says under his breath, looking everywhere but you.

"hm," you ponder, finger on your chin, "i don't know how i'd look in a thong, i might not have the ass for it."

jeongin looks like he's going to burst, his expression surprised and embarrassed by your words.

you sigh, taking his hand in yours, "it's fine but don't ever yell at me again, okay?"

"okay..." he says looking to the ground, feeling stupidly sorry for his actions.

"besides," you begin, smiling at him, "maybe you'd look better in a skirt and thong."

--

"wake up!" is all you hear as you jolt upwards, your forehead sweaty and breath heavy coming from your chest.

☆⌒ヽ jisung

warnings/other: living together, established relationship, mentions of nightmares and knives (not bad i promise lol)

you had a nightmare, which didn't happen often. the dreams you usually had were just an information dump of your day mixed in with people you had thought about, but this felt real, the feeling of fright still tingling in your body.

you look over at jisung, his eyes sleepy but still looking at yours.

"hey, you okay?" he speaks, voice raspy.

"no!" you yelp, busting into tears, still feeling shaken by your nightmare. "you were following me, telling me you were going to kill me! why were you yelling?"

"what?" jisung says in a confused tone, hand coming to your shoulder to stable himself.

you shrug his hand off, "you were going to kill me, why would you do that?"

"what are you talking about?" he mumbles, sitting half upward.

"in my dream," you begin by taking a deep breath, "you were chasing me with a knife, it was so scary."

"i'm... sorry?" he says, still so confused, "i didn't mean to?"

"oh," you breath out, tears slowly stopping. "i still cant believe you'd do that. i'm... damn."

"i'm sorry i tried to kill you in your dream. it was wrong of me...?" he mumbles again, eyes trying to find sleep.

"yeah, yeah it was." you breathe out, "don't do that again."

"okay... i won't." he sleepily sighs, his body falling back to the pillow. "i can't believe... i did that, what a ...dog act from me. asshole."

"absolute dog act, you dick." you finish before you feel your body laying back, waiting for sleep to capture you.

"so wrong of me, i'm such an idiot." he mutters, his lips pressing against the pillow, already falling asleep.

--

you scoff, eyes slowly closing your tiredness overtaking you. "damn right."

aussie slang: dog act if you don't know lol

"c'mon, just let me see." you yell through the crack of his changing room, attention turning from your phone. "i'm sure it's fine."

☆⌒ヽ lee know

warnings/other: close friends who like each other, uh lee know half naked??? spicy lee know, play fighting

"it's not." he says from the change room. you can hear his sighs through the curtain, frustration in them whenever he tries on another piece.

"do you need help?" you start, sliding yourself to the other side of the bench in front of the changing room.

"no!" he fumbles, dropping another item.

you sigh, hand slipping to grab onto the curtain, "i'm coming in!"

"no-!"

you're instantly met with his crotch, boxers tight across his hips, and you can see that. yes, the outline of that. your brows raise, certainly surprised with the view in front of you. his boxers had the kittens on them, cute little kittens of all colours and a pink background. you loved it, you can't deny.

"uh..." you start, not knowing what to do. you'd liked lee know for a while, so you can't say you're entirely horrified. you slowly raise your eyes to his, confusion and annoyance on his face.

you just sit there, his eyes burning into yours, just both staring at each other before he pushes on your face, leading you to fall back off of the bench. "don't do that!"

"ack!" you fall back yelping back hitting the ground with a thud, "i'm sorry i just wanted to help!"

he raises his voice slightly, anger present in his tone, "yeah, well i'm fucking naked!"

you feel bad, you've pushed a boundary and you didn't even realise you had been edging on it. "i'm sorry." you choke out, feeling bad for invading his privacy. you were close but not that close, yet.

you just lay there, ashamed of yourself for what you did, not thinking about his boundaries. after a minute he comes out, you're still laying on the ground in defeat.

he purses his lips in anger as he grabs the side of your ear, wrenching it towards him.

"ah shit!" you screech, laughter behind your words, "i'm sorry! aha i'm sorry! stop it!"

"you done?" he says through his teeth, still pulling on your ear.

"haha yes! it tickles and hurts!" you giggle, mouthing ouch a few times. he gives you a final tug before he finally let's go of your ear.

you get to your feet, rubbing the side of your ear. you both walk in silence before he halts you, eyes glaring into your own.

"if you wanna see me naked just say so, at least i can put better boxers on."

it was your turn to go red in the face, but you smirk instead, hiding your face, "i like those ones."

"really?" he questions, pondering your words, but seems impatient in his tone. "i'll wear em for you this weekend then, you staying over or not?"

you nod hurriedly, instantly agreeing to his plans.

"aw," he stops, clearly enjoying your agreeance and the new realm of flirting with you, "cat got your tongue?

you smack him on the arm, "stop!"

--

"do these look good?" seungmin asks, raising the brown frames to his face. no, no they don't. they absoutely don't. you try to hold in a laugh, your hand coming to your mouth.

☆⌒ヽ seungmin lalsdjka that pic always gets me

warnings/other: established relationship, seungmin thinks he's funny

"umm... maybe?"

he sighs, raising them a bit. "how about now?"

"uh," you begin, trying to hold in your laugh, "sure?"

passive aggressively he throws them back on the rack, turning on his heel to walk to the next section. you follow behind him, you can sense he's getting frustrated trying to find the right sunglasses. his vision wasn't the best without his glasses, so he needed your help trying them on. no contacts in today.

"hmm," he ponders, picking up anther pair. they're so ugly, rectangle and frames way too dark. no one would suit them, that's probably why they're on sale.

"um... maybe?"

"you already said that!" he says, frustration in his voice. "if you're not going to help, just leave."

you feel kind of hurt at his tone, but continue to follow behind him. you can't help but feel the anxiety in your chest, he wanted your advice but never listened anyways so you thought it best to be quiet.

suddenly he turns to look at you, feeling the awkward tension he's created. he throws his hands in the air. "what?!"

"hey don't yell," you start, wincing a bit at his words, "i just don't think those suited you..."

he takes the sight of you in, realising he's upset you, "shit- i'm sorry baby, i'm just annoyed i can't find a good pair. this is so hard."

you grab his hands and bring them to your chest, your eyes looking up at him, "thank you for apologising, you don't gotta be so mean."

he bends down to press a kiss on your lips, it's gentle with apology laced in it. he takes in a sharp breath before leaning back, "okay, which ones?"

"circle, definitely."

he turns to face the other section, hand gently melding to yours. the pair he picks up are just as ugly as the others.

"no," you begin interrupting him. you let go of his hand and pick up a dark circle frame pair of simple sunglasses, "these one's."

"really?" he questions, brows raised.

"just try them."

he sighs, bringing the frames to sit on his ears. "yes or no?"

"oh definitely, these are the ones. you gotta trust me."

he pouts and rolls his eyes, "oookay."

--

a/n: i had so much fun writing this!!!! hope you enjoy!!!!

<33

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

cowboy reader comes across a crazy ex gf or partner. like not murder crazy but crazy ass bitch yk?

Description: Dana, an old 'friend' of reader turns up at his work place and decides to make a scene.

Warnings: reader gets slapped, crazy ex girlfriend, she insults JJ, she calls her a sl^t and wh0re, she also tells reader to 'burn in h3ll'

Taglist: @xweirdo101x@xdark-acadamiax@ara-a-bird@heidss@chubbyboyinflannel@pendragon-writes@migwayne@bigolgay@technikerin23@supercriminalbean@honestlycasualarcade@caffeine-mess@1s3v3n1@oddmiles@kevyeen@stealing-kneecaps@criminalskies@woodandwaxwings@wizardmon3@aphroditeslovr@ducks118@azeal-peal@13thdoctor-run@introvertpan84@goth-boi-atlas@iliketozoneout

"Hi, is there something I can help you with?" JJ asked, approaching the woman.

"I'm looking for Agent (Y/N)," The woman responded.

JJ nodded, "He's right this way," She said, the pair of them walked, silence filling the air. A million questions racing through JJ's mind about who this woman was. "So, how do you know (Y/N)?"

"He's my boyfriend," She said, "We've been dating on and off for about five years now. We met in college and it was love at first sight. But with the long distances, we kept calling it off for a while. But we always find our way back to each other."

You tried to bite back a sigh when JJ walked in with Dana. You really, really didn't have time for this. A six year old boy was missing. This couldn't have been any worse timing - it probably could have been, but right now, it didn't exactly feel like that.

"Hey baby, can we talk somewhere in private?" She asked when he approached you, running a hand down your chest.

"I can't talk for long, three minute max," You said. She sighed but nodded and you led her just a little bit away from the rest of the team, wanting to be close by in case they found anything interesting in the three minutes you were talking to Dana.

Dana immediately launches into 'flirt mode' - more than she already was. She's twirling her hair, staring at your lips. And, to be frank, you're not a fan. And you have better things to be doing.

"Dana, can you- can you come back another time? I'm in the middle of a case, I can't do this right now." You said with a sigh as she walked closer to you, the team could very clearly hear everything going on (for a team of profilers they were not good at acting subtle).

"Seriously?" Dana laughs as she swoops down to grab her bag, "You know what? No. We can't do this later, fuck you!"

"Dana-"

"What? What do you want, (Y/N)? Huh?"

"I- I told you, I'm at work right now, I can't do this here, this is important," You said.

"And I'm not?!"

"Dana, that's not what I said, but we're trynna find a boy right now and I can't do this,"

"You're saying he's more important than me?!" Dana scoffed loudly.

"Dana, I'm trynna do my job," You tried to reason. You knew it was useless. But you had to at least try.

"So you're saying he is more important than me!" She exclaimed.

"Dana, he's a missing six year old boy, you're here for a - n excuse my language - a booty call," You said.

The slap sounds through the room and in its wake is the deafening silence of the team and the tingling on your cheek. You drew in a deep breath, trying to stay calm as the team stared in shock. Giving Morgan a small shake of the head when he instinctively reached for his cuffs. "Dana, I need you to leave. Now." You said sternly, "We are not datin', I've not given you that impression and I need you to leave so I can do my job and find this little boy."

"You know what? Fine! Fine, do your little job! With your colleagues! With that slutty blonde! I see the way you look at her!" She points angrily to JJ as she continues to yell.

"You need to fuckin' leave. Now." Your voice is low as you step closer. "You can insult me all you want, but the second you insult her? Insult my friends? Either you walk out that door now or I get security to remove you."

She stared at you, huffing loudly as she turned around. She glared at JJ, "Whore." You ground your teeth hearing that, stepping towards her again.

"Dana, leave. Now." You voice is deep and you ignore the shocked faces of your team when you addressed her. Instead, she turns to glare at you again.

"Burn in hell."

"Get a life," You muttered bitterly, pointing at the door. She huffed once more before leaving.

[ellbeesie]

Sex - Corroded Coffin

Eddie Munson x f!bestfriend!reader

summary: you surprise Eddie at one of his concerts, but he surprises you first

word count: 1,586

warnings: swearing, angst?, mutual pining, confessions, not much to warn about really, let me know if I missed anything

a/n: I was listening to Sex by The 1975 and couldn't get it out of my head that Eddie would so write something like that about his best friend (pls let me know if you'd like a part 2 to this bc personally I'd love to write a spicy pt2 to this)

masterlist

You were late, obviously, when were you not. The venue was already packed with bodies pressed against each other, making it very difficult to manoeuvre yourself through the crowd and over to the shitty bar over the other side of the room.

It was exciting, truly, to be seeing Corroded Coffin somewhere other than the dingy little Hawkins bars that you were used to. Somewhere finally deserving of them and their talent. You couldn't be prouder of them or the fact that this was their first ever sold out show. It was also pretty exciting since you planned to surprise them backstage later on.

"Vodka soda, cheers." Someone bumps into your shoulder as you order, making you turn to be faced with a girl, thick black eyeliner and short, short skirt.

"Oh, sorry," she starts, taking in your appearance just as you're taking in hers, "oh shit, is that new merch? I've never seen that t-shirt before." You look down at your t-shirt, smiling as you look back up at her.

"No, no actually this is old. Me and the band go back a bit, I uh, we made these in my garage when they first started playing shows. We never sold any so we kept them for ourselves."

"No way, you know them?" She practically screams at you as you grab your drink.

"Since middle school, yeah. I knew Munson back when he had a buzzcut." You laugh, hitting it off with the girl. You talk back and forth for what seems like forever, slowly being encapsulated by the hazy fog making it's way through the room from both the smoke machine and from the unreasonable amount of people smoking in the room.

"So are you, like, his girlfriend then?" She asks, raising her eyebrows at you with a smirk.

"Me, no no no, just friends. Best friends. I- he's not interested." You're going to say more when you're interrupted by the dimming lights which leave the room soaked in a warm orange glow from the back-lit stage. The room erupts into loud applause as your best friends make their way onto stage, swinging guitars and drumsticks over their heads. Always so dramatic.

The concert is absolutely insane, everything you could have ever wished for them. Fans hanging on their every word, screaming the lyrics to songs that you've known since they were just scribbles on scraps of paper. It's almost too much, to see them living their dream, but you stick it out, screaming along with the crowd with, admittedly, some tears in your eyes.

"So, this next one is going to be our last song." Eddie mumbles into his mic, earning pretty enthusiastic disapproval from the crowd. "I know, I know we're fucking bummed about it too but we can't stay here all night." He pauses for a second, turning to Gareth to give him a quick nod and thumbs up. "This might make you all feel a little better, we're actually going to play you something completely new tonight to end the show. You guys are getting the real VIP treatment, yeah?" This perks the crowd up, obviously, and you feel a tap on your shoulder: the girl from earlier.

"You heard this one?" She asks, referring to the new track.

Shaking your head, you lean in so she can hear you over Eddie, "nope, I'm just as in the dark about this as you." It's exciting, knowing that this many people get to hear their new stuff, it's a far cry from sitting in Jeff's garage and hearing their demos.

The guitar kicks in and you realise this is nothing like anything they've ever done before.

And this is how it starts You take your shoes off in the back of my van...

The song is good, really fucking good, and you find yourself moving along to it, watching the crowd start to pick up and dance along, loving it just as much as you.

There's only minutes before I drop you off And all we seem to do it talk about sex She's got a boyfriend anyway...

As you listen to the lyrics your heart starts sink to the pit of your stomach, and your left standing dead still, unable to move, unable to think about anything other than the implications behind what Eddie's singing about. You don't want to assume, because it could look really bad if you did, but...

Surely not, surely he can't be talking about what you think he's talking about.

Does he take care of you Or could I easily fill his shoes Do you say no...

You're starting to feel hot, not knowing what to do with yourself as you carry on listening. Last time you saw Eddie (or any of the band for that matter) was about four months ago, when you were dating Steve. He was lovely, caring, kind, but you drifted. No biggie, it happens sometimes.

And I'm not trying to stop you love But if we're gonna do anything we might as well just fuck She's got a boyfriend anyway...

The sudden feeling of guilt and dread that Eddie is up there singing about how he could do a better job than Steve, god it makes your skin crawl. But maybe it wasn't about you, maybe you were being presumptuous. It doesn't help that Eddie looks so fucking good up there in his ripped jeans and cropped t-shirt. Singing with all his heart into a crowd absolutely tailor made for him.

You've got your tongue pierced anyway You in your hightops anyway You in your skinny jeans anyway...

Fuck.

Well. There's definitely no denying it now.

It's you, the song is about you.

-

The lump in your throat didn't leave when the lights went up, or when you said your goodbyes to the girl you'd spoken to all night, and it definitely didn't go away when you presented your ID and pass at the backstage entrance to go and see them.

Hovering at the "bands only" sign which shrouded you in a red light, you second guessed whether it really was a good idea to see them tonight. After all you had just heard a song dedicated to how your best friend wanted to fuck you in the back of his van (you were paraphrasing, yes, but that was the gist of it). And that wasn't even the worst part, you'd let him. It was hard to deny that you hadn't thought about it before. I mean, the lyrics did have some credibility to them.

Unfortunately the decision of whether to stay or go was made for you when the door swung open, revealing a sweaty, hot Eddie only a foot away from where you stood.

"Oh shit... you're here."

"Surprise." You say meekly, trying your best to sound lighthearted an not entirely nervous about this whole situation. You're about to speak when he starts rambling at you.

"Listen, princess, I-"

"Eddie no, don't do that-"

"No, no honestly, go and get Steve and we can-"

"Eddie-"

"I'll explain if he wants, I don't want-"

"Eddie!" That stops him right in his tracks, eyes wide as he stares, waiting for you to storm off to Steve, he presumes. "We broke up, Steve and I. It didn't, uh - we're friends." Taking a deep breath, you look him in the eye, something you avoided until now. "I came on my own. Wanted to surprise you, and the others, obviously."

"Well, fuck." He's itching to move, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

"Yeah, fuck." There's a beat of silence before Eddie dares to speak again, he really didn't think he'd be doing this tonight. Having this talk with you.

"Well, either way, for obvious reasons, I'm sorry about what you heard. I was going to call you, tell you... eventually... I just-"

"Did you mean it?" You cut him off, trying to figure out whether your hope in him is misplaced.

"What?" Eddie's taken aback, for once he's fucking speechless.

"Did you mean it, the lyrics?"

There's another beat of silence before he answers.

"Every word."

It feels like your entire world is collapsing in on itself, everything you thought you knew about him now shrouded in the knowledge that Eddie fucking Munson has been down bad for you for god knows how long.

"Since when?"

"Ninth grade. You started wearing that smudged eyeliner and those big fucking boots that you could hardly walk in. I was hooked."

Nothing could have ever prepared you for this conversation. The one you convinced yourself you were never going to have. The one where you tell him you're madly in love with him.

"You didn't say anything."

"You had Harrington."

"I wanted you."

"You- wait what?"

"Surely you know, Eds. It's always been you."

He shakes his head, running his hands over his face. "Don't say that, princess don't say shit like that if you don't want me to jump on you right fucking now." It takes him a second to process the dead serious look on your face. "You mean that?"

"Every word."

The silence between you has your ears ringing, he's taking longer to respond than you'd like and it's making you nervous.

"Come back to my hotel tonight. I want to - we need to talk. We need to... fuck," he's distracted, coming forward to place his hands on either side of your face to force eye contact, "princess you have no idea how long I've been waiting for you."