#that call into question everything I've learned so far

[pathologicalreid]

litmus test | s.r.

in which Spencer needs your expertise to help solve a murder, but crime fighting is most decidedly not for you

find more chemist!reader here!

who? spencer reid x chemist!reader category: flangst (like. the end is a little angsty and it has case details) content warnings: typical cm violence, science talk, fem!reader, reader is not built for crime, morgan being an older brother, some fun banter!! death by firework is crazy lmao word count: 1.68k a/n: this is one of my favorite fluff pieces i've written in agessss i missed chemist!reader so much i learn so many things when i'm writing her. this was a request! i hope you like it as much as i do!!

“Do you have a second?” Spencer asks, his voice slightly choppy over the phone. Between his ancient phone and being inside concrete police precincts, some disconnect was bound to happen.

Saving your document to your computer, you rest the lab phone between your shoulder and ear, “If you’re asking me if I have any corrosive chemicals in my hands, the answer is no.”

He chuckles lightly, “I never know with you.”

You roll your eyes in response, even if he can’t see you, “It was one time and I needed a new phone case anyway.”

“You fused the plastic of your phone case to the material of your phone,” he retorts far too quickly for your liking.

“Yes,” you acquiesce, “but I know the exact chemical reaction that caused that phenomenon.” You cross your legs one over the other, maintaining your balance on your lab stool as you speak to Spencer over the phone.

He gave a light hum in response, “Speaking of chemical reactions – I need your help.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You’re asking me for help in chemistry?” There really was a first time for everything, you suppose.

Spencer was more than capable of navigating a lab on his own, even so, he admits, “You have more applied practice than I do.”

Pursing your lips, you nod to yourself, “Fair enough. What’s stumping you, Dr. Reid?” Your inquiry, while innocent enough, garners a wolf whistle from your graduate assistant.

“There’s something burning a hole in these bones, and I’m not sure what would be causing it to happen this fast,” he explains, giving you minor background information on how long the bones were out and if the medical examiner had treated them with something.

You clear your throat, frowning at the notes you had scrawled down in front of you, “Burning or corroding?” What was seemingly a meaningless distinction would actually allow you to filter through approximately half of the possibilities.

“Corroding,” he corrects himself, “My mistake.”

Crossing off some of your notes, you purse your lips at the new possibilities, “No worries. Did you try flushing it out with water?”

You hear papers flipping on his end of the call before you get a response, “That would destroy evidence.”

“Well,” you raise your eyebrows, “It sounds like your evidence is destroying itself.”

“Baby,” Spencer says in a no-nonsense tone reserved for when he was deep in a case. You could’ve sworn you heard Morgan in the background of the call mocking him for the pet name.

Turning back to your notes, you sigh, “Yeah, yeah, all work and no play. Was the body buried?”

“Partially,” his reply intrigues you, “I can have Garcia send you the crime scene photos if you think it’ll help.”

Wrinkling your nose at the thought, you made an unsure sound, “Right, because nothing says lunchtime like getting up close and personal with a homicide victim.”

“What lunchtime? It’s three pm in D.C. right now,” he caught you, a slight chiding tone in his words.

Ignoring his questions, you ask more of your own, “Was the body near water? Did they test the pH of the soil and water?”

There were more papers flipping, likely someone presenting the results of those tests to him, “Yeah, the soil was a five-point two and the water was a seven-point eight,” he listed off for you.

While your knowledge of the pH of the soil in Iowa was limited, you did know that those levels were pretty on par for the northern Mississippi River. “O-kay,” you say, extending your vowels, “and they didn’t find anything else on the scene that points to corrosive materials. Hydrofluoric acid?” You posit, “No, you know what – maybe you should send me those files. My work email is encrypted, you can give it to Penelope.”

He speaks to someone else in the room with him and you resist the urge to ask him if he’s enjoying Iowa, “It’s sent,” he confirms with you.

Pulling up your email only takes a moment, and once you get over the initial shock of seeing a dead body on your computer screen, you lift your lab glasses to the top of your head in order to get a better look. “I mean,” you think for a moment, “those look like alkali burns to me. I’ve never seen them on bones before, but you should do a litmus test to check either way.”

“So, we rinse it with water?” He asks, seeking instruction from you in a way that makes you feel oddly powerful.

Your eyes widen, “No, no, no. If it’s a metal compound then it’ll be covered in a mineral oil, so rinsing it with water would actually make the burn worse.”

Pausing for a moment, you consider the possibility that Spencer didn’t have the luxury of time – he was trying to solve a murder, not do experiments in a lab.

“Alkali burns can be serious, it all depends on what caused them, and most are helped by rinsing with water. So, unless you have the time to test for metal compounds, I’d go ahead and rinse it. You might want to brush the damage to the bones with a dry brush first. If there’s lime on the bones it’ll foam, which not only will corrode the bones even further but it might release a toxic gas,” you have no idea how the corrosion would interact with bone marrow, but something tell you that you don’t want to know

“Wait a minute,” Derek interjects, being included in the conversation now that Spencer put the call on speaker, “I thought things like alkaline water were good for you.”

You scoff instinctively, “Oh, there’s no definitive evidence that shows alkaline water as having any real health benefits. Especially not the benefits that the internet says it has.” Straightening up in your stool, you continue, “In fact, there is evidence from the NIH that says drinking alkaline water could cause kidney damage. There’s a particular-“

“My bad,” he interjects, effectively stopping your rambling before it really took off, “I forgot whose girlfriend I was talking to.”

Groaning at your new vexation, you huff, “Oh, fuck off, Derek. Go kick down a door.”

Spencer quickly switches the phone back, “Thank you, angel.”

Squinting at the photos that were still on your laptop screen, a crude, disturbing thought came to mind, “You know, sparklers can cause alkali burns. It might be something to consider because of the diameter of the burns.”

Your boyfriend was silent on his end of the call for so long that you had to check and make sure the call hadn't dropped. “Did you say sparklers?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “like the ones you can get everywhere this time of year.��

He says something to Morgan, placing his hand over the receiver so you can’t hear, “There’s only one spot in this town, though. I’ve gotta go, see you soon.”

“Stay safe, please! I prefer your bones unburned,” you rattle off into the phone before it clicks, placing the phone back on the stand and deleting the crime scene photos from your inbox.

The front door to the apartment opens and shuts quietly, with Spencer under the assumption that you already went to bed, he was surprised to find you on the couch, nursing a cup of tea. “Hey, baby,” he chirps, unusually peppy for this time of night.

“Hey,” you say half-heartedly, threading your fingers through the handle of the mug.

Your somber tone gets Spencer’s attention, “What’s wrong?”

The slight panic in his voice causes your eyes to snap up to his, “Nothing,” you murmur. “It’s just… the woman who was in those pictures. There- the burns on her bones, they were signs of torture, weren’t they?”

You’d been thinking about the burns ever since Spencer showed them to you, “Yes,” he answers with a reciprocating softness, sitting down next to you on the couch. “The medical examiner concluded that she was burned antemortem.”

That woman had been burned alive by fireworks, sparklers had seared their way through skin and muscle until it finally met her bones. You blink a few tears from your eyes at the thought, “I like my lab, Spence.”

The confusion on his face was palpable, “I know you do.”

“I like my minimal human interaction and my chemicals, and I like knowing why certain things cause certain reactions. I like it when things make sense.” You take a deep, shaky breath, “Killing someone. Torturing someone with fireworks. That just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You had no interest in hearing the excuses that the killer had provided. You had no interest in hearing the psychological breakdown of that woman’s killer. Spencer knows that, “The photos got to you?”

Taking a sip from your mug, you nod solemnly, “I can’t stop thinking about the way it must have felt. Oh, the smell must have been horrible. That poor woman.” In theory, it was a ridiculous notion, killing someone with fireworks seemed neither probable nor possible. Yet here you are.

“But we got the person who killed her,” Spencer reassures you, resting his hand gently on your knee. “We couldn’t have done it without you,” he adds.

Your face warms at his compliment, “I wish I could have helped before she was killed.” You were grateful that Spencer hadn’t passed on any personal information about the woman, it was easier for you if you kept things in separate storage files in your mind.

Spencer hums, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “There’s always going to be another one. I’m sorry about the photos, I should’ve made sure Garcia only sent the necessary ones.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you look at him thoughtfully, “This will pass, but for tonight I just feel bad for the victim.”

“I can have Penelope share some of her favorite baby animal videos, if you’d like,” he offers softly, resting his head on your shoulder.

In return, you give him a small smile, “Well, I suppose it really can’t hurt.”

[just-ornstein]

[JK]  My first job was as an Assistant Producer for a video game company called Interplay in Irvine, CA. I had recently graduated from Boston University's School of Fine Arts with an MFA in Directing (I started out as a theatre nerd), but also had some limited coding experience and a passion for computers. It didn't look like I'd be able to make a living directing plays, so I decided to combine entertainment and technology (before it was cool!) and pitched myself to Brian Fargo, Interplay's CEO. He gave me my first break. I packed up and moved out west, and I've been producing games ever since.

[JK] I loved my time at EA. I was there for almost a full decade, and learned a tremendous amount about game-making, and met the most talented and driven people, who I remain in touch with today. EA gave me many opportunities, and never stopped betting on me. I worked on The Sims for nearly 5 years, and then afterwards, I worked on console action games as part of the Visceral studio. I was the Creative Director for the 2007 game "The Simpsons", and was the Executive Producer and Creative Director for the 2009 game "Dante's Inferno".

[JK] I haven't played in a long while, but I do recall that after the game shipped, my wife and I played the retail version for some time -- we created ourselves, and experimented with having a baby ahead of the actual birth of our son (in 2007). Even though I'd been part of the development team, and understood deeply how the simulation worked, I was still continually surprised at how "real" our Sims felt, and how accurate their responses were to having a baby in the house. It really felt like "us"!

Now for some of the development and lore related questions:

[JK] So I ended up in the incredibly fortunate position of creating the shipping neighborhoods for The Sims 2, and recruiting a few teammates to help me as we went along. 

Around the same time, we started using the Buy/Build tools to make houses we could save, and also bring them into each new build of the game (correcting for any bugs and incompatibilities). With the import tool, we could load Sims into these houses. In time, this "vanguard QA" process turned into a creative endeavor to define the "saved state" of the neighborhoods we would actually end up shipping with the game.

On playtesting & the leftover sims data on various lots:

Basically, we were in the late stages of development, and the Save Game functionality wasn't quite working. In order to test the game properly, you really needed to have a lot of assets, and a lot of Sims with histories (as if you'd been playing them for weeks) to test out everything the game had to offer. So I started defining a set of characters in a spreadsheet, with all their tuning variables, and worked with engineering to create an importer, so that with each new build, I could essentially "load" a kind of massive saved game, and quickly start playing and testing. 

It was fairly organic, and as the game's functionality improved, so did our starter houses and families. 

The thought process behind the creation of the iconic three neighborhoods:

I would not say it was particularly planned out ahead of time. We knew we needed a few saved houses to ship with the game; Sims 1, after all, had the Goth house, and Bob Newbie's house. But there wasn't necessarily a clear direction for what the neighborhood would be for Sims 2. We needed the game to be far enough along, so that the neighborhood could be a proper showcase for all the features in the game. With each new feature that turned alpha, I had a new tool in my toolbox, and I could expand the houses and families I was working on. Once we had the multi-neighborhood functionality, I decided we would not just have 1 starter neighborhood, but 3. With the Aging feature, Memories, a few wacky objects, plus a huge catalog of architectural and decorative content, I felt we had enough material for 3 truly distinct neighborhoods. And we added a couple of people to what became the "Neighborhood Team" around that time.

Later, when we created Strangetown, and eventually Veronaville, I believe we went back and changed Pleasantville to Pleasantview... because I liked the alliteration of "Verona-Ville", and there was no sense in having two "villes". (To this day, by the way, I still don't know whether to capitalize the "V" -- this was hotly debated at the time!)

Pleasantview:

Anyway, to answer your question, we of course started with Pleasantview. As I recall, we were not quite committed to multiple neighborhoods at first, and I think it was called Pleasantville initially, which was kind of a nod to Simsville... but without calling it Simsville, which was a little too on the nose. (There had also been an ill-fated game in development at Maxis at the time, called SimsVille, which was cancelled.) It's been suggested that Pleasantville referred to the movie, but I don't think I ever saw that movie, and we just felt that Pleasantville kind of captured the feeling of the game, and the relaxing, simple, idyllic world of the Sims.

Pleasantview started as a place to capture the aging feature, which was all new to The Sims 2. We knew we had toddlers, teens, and elders to play with, so we started making families that reflected the various stages of family life: the single mom with 3 young kids, the parents with two teens, the old rich guy with two young gold-diggers, etc. We also had a much greater variety of ethnicity to play with than Sims 1, and we had all new variables like sexual orientation and memories. All these things made for rich fodder for a great diversity of families. Then, once we had family trees, and tombstones that carried the actual data for the dead Sims, the doors really blew open. We started asking ourselves, "What if Bella and Mortimer Goth could be characters in Sims 2, but aged 25 years? And what if Cassandra is grown up? And what if Bella is actually missing, and that could be a fun mystery hanging over the whole game?" And then finally the "Big Life Moments" went into the game -- like weddings and birthdays -- and we could sort of tee these up in the Save Game, so that they would happen within the first few minutes of playing the families. This served both as a tutorial for the features, but also a great story-telling device.

Anyway, it all just flowed from there, as we started creating connections between families, relationships, histories, family trees, and stories that we could weave into the game, using only the simulation features that were available to us. It was a really fun and creative time, and we wrote all of the lore of Sims 2 within a couple of months, and then just brought it to life in the game.

Strangetown:

Strangetown was kind of a no-brainer. We needed an alternate neighborhood for all the paranormal stuff the Sims was known for: alien abduction, male pregnancy, science experiments, ghosts, etc. We had the desert terrain, which created a nice contrast to the lush Pleasantville, and gave it an obvious Area 51 vibe.

The fact that Veronaville is the oldest file probably reflects the fact that it was finished first, not that it was started first. That's my guess anyway. It was the simplest neighborhood, in many ways, and didn't have as much complexity in terms of features like staged big life moments, getting the abduction timing right, the alien DNA thing (which I think was somewhat buggy up until the end), etc.  So it's possible that we simply had Veronaville "in the can", while we put the last polish on Pleasantville (which was the first and most important neighborhood, in terms of making a good impression) and Strangeville (which was tricky technically).

Veronaville:

But my personal favorite was Veronaville. We had this cool Tudor style collection in the Build mode catalog, and I wanted to ship some houses that showed off those assets. We also had the teen thing going on in the aging game, plus a lot of romance features, as well as enemies. I have always been a Shakespeare buff since graduate school, so putting all that together, I got the idea that our third neighborhood should be a modern-day telling of the Romeo and Juliet story. It was Montys and Capps (instead of Montagues and Capulets), and it just kind of wrote itself. We had fun creating the past family trees, where everyone had died young because they kept killing each other off in the ongoing vendetta.

[JK] You know, I have never seen The Lone Gunmen, and I don't remember making any kind of direct references with the Strangetown Sims, other than the general Area 51 theme, as you point out. Charles London helped out a lot with naming Sims, and I'm pretty sure we owe "Vidcund" and "Lazlo" to him ... though many team members pitched in creatively. He may have had something in mind, but for me, I largely went off of very generic and stereotypical ideas when crafting these neighborhoods. I kind of wanted them to be almost "groaners" ... they were meant to be tropes in every sense of the word. And then we snuck in some easter eggs. But largely, we were trying to create a completely original lore.

[JK] Well, I think we kind of pushed it with The Sims 2, to be honest, and I remember getting a little blow-back about Bunny Broke, for example. Bunny Broke was the original name for Brandi Broke. Not everyone found that funny, as I recall, and I can understand that. It must have been changed before we shipped.

We also almost shipped the first outwardly gay Sims in those neighborhoods, which was bold for EA back in 2004. My recollection was that we had set up the Dreamers to be gay (Dirk and Darren), but I'm looking back now and see that's not the case. So I'm either remembering incorrectly (probably) or something changed during development.

In general we just did things that we found funny and clever, and we just pulled from all the tropes of American life.

[JK] The alien abduction started in Sims 1, with a telescope object that was introduced in the "Livin' Large" expansion pack. That's when some of the wackier ideas got introduced into the Sims lore. That pack shipped just before I joined Maxis in 2001; when I got there, the team had shipped "House Party" and was underway on "Hot Date". So I couldn't tell you how the original idea came about, but The Sims had this 50's Americana vibe from the beginning, and UFOs kind of played right into that. So the alien abduction telescope was a no-brainer to bring back in Sims 2. The male pregnancy was a new twist on the Sims 1 telescope thing. It must have been that the new version (Sims 2) gave us the tech and flexibility to have male Sims become pregnant, so while this was turned "off" for the core game, we decided to take advantage of this and make a storyline out of it. I think this really grew out of the fact that we had aliens, and alien DNA, and so it was not complicated to pre-bake a baby that would come out as an alien when born. The idea of a bunch of guys living together, and then one gets abducted, impregnated, and then gives birth to an alien baby ... I mean, I think we just all thought that was hilarious, in a sit-com kind of way. Not sure there was much more to it than that. Everything usually came from the designers discovering ways to tweak and play with the tech, to get to funny outcomes.

[JK] Possibly we were just testing the functionality of the Wants/Fears and Memories systems throughout development, and some stuff got left over.

[JK] I can't remember, but that sounds like something we would have done! I'm pretty sure we laid the groundwork for more stories that we ended up delivering :) But The Sims 2 was a great foundation for a lot of continued lore that followed.

--

I once again want to thank Jonathan Knight for granting me this opportunity and taking the time from his busy schedule to answer my questions.

[thatbitchery]

FINANCE 102 (?). EVERYTHING I HAVE DONE TO MAKE THIS MUCH IN ONLY A YEAR IN PASSIVE INCOME

& this time I even brought receipts.

Apart from the not even subtle flex, this year has easily been one of my most successful financial years yet. When I say passive income we are not counting investment returns (that financial statement isn't out yet and does not matter, it's automatically reinvested. Not even for flexing purposes, there are a few things I need you to understand about me and these numbers:

First, none of this is salary. I work a medium wage job that pays in four figures monthly. It also does not include other income sources that require my involvement. Passive is the key term.

Second, apart from right at the start, I've had no personal involvement in any of these sources. None. Not even calls or texts or emails, fully automated.

Third, it is all tax free. It all belongs to me. One of them is after tax but the rest are 100% what I've made.

These are three completely different streams, and these are between November last year to date. One year.

No it's easy or simple or fast.

(sidenote) I take my financial statements in Nov and plan for the new year bc i don't count dec as even part of a productive year.

My passive income (including investments) is my largest source of income and will always be.

(because I will always bring the receipts)

I am no financial guru so I can not directly give you financial education, but I can tell you what I do and if you get it, good for you.

Soo then, steps I've taken to be able to get to this financial position at 24 (I turn 25 next month btw;) ) from, well, since as far back as I can remember. It's a process.

-> First, Investing heavily in financial education. What has this looked like for me?

I've probably gone to 30+ finance seminars and workshops centered around investment, asset management and wealth distribution. I went to my first at 19 and last in March. If i have to pay I will. If i need to skip town, I will. I go, i listen, I ask questions, I make connections. I make a plan of what I want to learn and focus on that, not haphazardly consuming content as long as it's finance related.

Finance bros (is a gender-neutral term pls). It is a finance bro that told me to buy my first ecommerce business before covid hit. It was a finance bro that got me to buy the business that has made me the last screenshot for less that 10k. It was a finance bro that taught me to work low wage and make my bank in assets so I don't overpay in tax. It was my finance bros to teach me what to invest where and how to keep my banks offshore and to set up my trust fund (plus law girlies ofc mwah) and get my LLC. Finance bros save lives. I'm not good with money. I have people that are good with money.

-> Second, i tied up my loose ends early enough. Loose ends? Yes, the financial vampires that had no return on investment.

First is societal obligation aka giving back to the community. Wrapped that up in mentorship and volunteering (a lot because I'm not giving my money to people that have more than me that's wild.

Second- my family. Shout out and huge fat thank you to my extended family for being extremely sh!tty openly to me and my nuclear family when we were younger so absolutely no one faults me for cutting them off amen. For my nuclear family it is kind of obvious whoever is the most financially advanced provides for the family and that's fine if it means a set amount every month not calling me whenever you want some baby shower or whatever. Loose end. Set up investment accounts for each of them and invested monthly up from my third year of high school to second year of uni (Three- four years) while teaching them how to make money work for you then just- pulled back. No one can say I abandoned them and every four months if I want to instead of sending money home I send it to their accounts. Tied up that loose end bc they can reaally reallllly bankrupt you if you're not careful.

-> third, always focusing on the ROI and what is important to me. If it does not have a higher return on investment what do I even need it for? What does this mean?

It means befriending the kids at Fashion and textile faculty in uni and having them teach me how to work clothes and make up into my body and into achieving the lifestyle i want through them and then finding my ROI.

Having my eyeliner tattooed for <50$ in my home country so I don't need to buy eyeliner and reapply every ten minutes. It means getting my bags made for <50 each in my home country too instead of buying a high quality bag for God knows how much in my Country of residence.

It means buying stocks not bags and dresses because one appreciates and the other depreciates and dresses are not important to me.

It means perfecting my thrift game because i value quality, not price tags.

It means moving to a higher end area although rent is higher because the security, the gym, the people, the amenities, all things that are of value to me.

It means investing in things that I know will give me a high return in investment and using my money to buy value, not things. Before I even touch my money for purchase I am already calculating its value vs my value system vs return on investment.

-> Fourth, Building discipline. I have invested the MOST in this area. I can not even stress this enough - discipline is the highest value skill you can ever learn. According to google discipline is "the practice of training people to obey rules or a code of behavior, using punishment to correct disobedience". And that is exactly how I did it, used punishment to correct myself.First, deciding the rules and code of behavior I wanted to follow. Second, making myself follow it using the nacient learning method, reward and punishment- where reward is normalcy and punishment is just :).

In high school, running for double captainship because that would force me to work and work hard. The pressure of the expectations just one captainship demanded was hell, make that two plus having to keep my scholarship and yeah. One wrong move and I'd be stripped of them both, and that forced me to never make mistakes. And it was really, really hard to not make mistakes.

Knowing my ADHD brain has an extremely hard time being consistent, I learned pretty early I need external help to keep myself in check. Realized that help has to come from someone I respected after trying to make it work with friends and failing. My first mentor cost me a good 5000$ every month (not so high it would paralyze me but high enough i felt the pressure) and when I slipped up i owed them 500$ on the floor. Missed something on my to do list with no good excuse? 500$. Failed my exams? Ate junk? Bought something without considering the ROI? Did not reach my health goals ? 500$. On the spot. No stories no argument no nothing. You mess up six times and the seventh you just automatically cry even before you think of messing up because damn. Reward and punishment. After a while (One year to be exact) it gets so deeply programmed its part of my ADHD.

Accountability partners. Exclusive. High functioning. A pretty 1200$ every month but I don't mind, it's worth it. Extremely high ROI.

-> Heavily investing in myself because I will always give myself the highest ROI.

Blood checks every quarterly because my health is everything. (Chinese herbalists, extremely cheap).

Educating myself heavily in all the fields that are important to me. Communicaton. Languages (Learning my tenth if we count sign language as a language and eleventh if we count braille). Gut health (Filthily educated in this bad boy. PHD level). Psychology and human behavior. Using fashion, beauty and styling to work for me. Violin. Equestrian. Everything I like. Double bachelors and a weird number of accredited certifications.

Therapy. I'm no longer in therapy but this was probably the best thing I ever did. Worth every dime. Went through six therapists until i found my stoic reality-based gem that was not trying to make me feel better but get better and survive the world as is.

My social life and friendships. Not even for social climbing, more for having friends and building my community and tribe. I'm not a lone wolf or sigma I'm a social person that's also part of a social species. Pouring into my friendships and networks has had a super impressive ROI and has been worth the trouble.

My reputation and social / public image. Nothing I guard harder than this, not even my money. I am not an idgafer i will never be. A good name is better than riches. I actually care what people say about me and carefully manipulate them into saying what I want.

Skill amassing especially in areas in consider essential. Home keeping. Sewing. Personal finance. Health and nutrition. Social skills. IT. Music. &c &c.

(will probably add as I remember. will also probably delete there's something really cringy about bringing receipts)

[sharkylass]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

(It's not belated what are you talking about-) With the spooky day I bring...

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

--------------------------------------- There's A LOT OF ART under the cut, however it's A LOT OF SPOILERS.

ESPECIALLY FOR THE ACT 6 ENCOUNTER/TWO HATS, EVERYTHING IN THIS POST IS DEPENDANT ON THE FACT YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT ENCOUNTER.

(The dandelions are frozen in time) (...) (You envy them, but you think that's sacrilege, so you move on.)

The gif takes forever to load, please bare with me-

ALRIGHT, LET ME INTRODUCE YOU TO ROBORO.

Roboro (it/they/he) is cold and calculative. It spent so long trying to get out of the loops, that a lot of their tact and bubbliness gave way to their cynicism and bluntness.

They exhibit more of their younger traits. Extreme smarts and avoidance. However, they still carries themselves tall, and aren't afraid to speak their mind. Most of the time, they simply choose not to.

The decision to make him cold and distant, rather then manic and erratic, actually came from Loop themselves. Loop is very actively trying to be the opposite of Siffrin. They act chatty and cruel because that's how far they've been driven, that's how they choose to hide themselves now.

Roboro is the same, in the sense that it's supposed to appear the very opposite of Isabeau.

"Why is it a Dandelion?"

From what I've seen, most people lean on the space idea for the guides, and I find that super neat-

But as an exercise (before this AU was even an IDEA in my mind-) I tried to design Mira, Odile and Isa as guides.

I tried the space theme, and felt really limited with it.

So instead I decided to design them based of ways to wish

Mira was a fire (candle)

Odile was a coin (throwing a coin in a fountain/well)

And Isabeau WAS in fact a dandelion (blowing on a dandelion)

And I guess that idea just stuck around in my brain until I got to making this au.

Their Dynamic With Isa

The two's dynamic isn't too dissimilar to Sif and Loop. Isa still tries to be his loud positive headstrong self, and Roboro sees past the bullshit, and grinds Isa's gears

(Fun fact for that second one: Roboro knew Isa wanted to be called "good boy" cause it probably would have wanted to hear it too-) As time goes on, the two learn to get along if only a little. Isa starts to appreciate the bluntness of Roboro, together with the helpful tips. Roboro meanwhile, seeing Isa's descent starts to feel a spark of empathy for the guy (which sucks for ACT 5 whoops.)

Silver Coin Equivalent

The equivalent is called "Lucky Pencil". Isa is a pretty superstitious guy, despite knowing better logically. So I thought he'd totally be the type to carry around a lucky charm of sorts!

(You recall.) (Before you lost yourself to time, you tried to become a defender.) (You got so tired of being the lone kid, the one people would not see, or think about.) (You were smart, but you were invisible.) (Sure, you were quiet, but you had good grades! You were getting by!) (Even your own family didn't think much of your solitude.) (And yet, you were so scared to open your mouth, to even answer questions you knew the answers to-) (It was hard. Suffocating even.) (When teachers started giving you good grades without you even having to try-) (Something had to change. You had to change.) (And you did! You became stronger, resilient, reliable. Became the very antithesis of what you used to be.) (Left everything you were behind.) (But it was worth it! You could finally!!! Talk!!! You could bring smiles to people's faces! They'd smile when you entered a room! And each time you felt pride. Pride in who you were.) (You tried talking with your family more, being more open, loud-) (They still didn't see you.) (Smart kids turned away, uble to face you, see their fears embodied. Fears that if they wanted to belong, they had to leave their brains for brawn.) (It was better. You were happier. But you still didn't belong, either.) (In hallways filled with people, you were still just there.) (…) (You tried really hard for you Defender exam. You exercised to near faints. Only really ate and slept cause you knew it would make you stronger.) (Buried your nose in reading and studying to avoid thoughts of doubt. And when they'd reach you anyways, you'd go for a run.) (You know it wasn't the best for you. You're supposed to be stupid, not unwise. "Just until I pass" you told yourself.) (… You were exhausted on your exam day. As your nerves heightened, so did your "coping". You were ready!!! You just, needed a little help.) (So you opened your drawer, filled with old papers and textbooks and notes. You don't like looking in there too much, but you took what you needed.) (A beaten up pencil. Your little lucky charm!!! Sure, you always knew the answers, but it was easier if you believed this pencil was helping you, guiding you.) (It was silly to think it would help, but you weren't taking chances.) (…) (Even after all that time, you couldn't leave that part of yourself behind.) (You still can't.) (You're the only one that can't.)

ACT 6 FIGHT

The ACT 6 encounter would... go about as well as you'd expect. Not only did a version of you win- it's the version of you that pretends to be a meat head, the one that's preoccupied with being nice rather then thinking ahead. How did he get to win when you, you who's changed, you who's given everything you had, everything you wanted to simply get out?

Why does he get to win? Why does this loud mouth, emotional, explosive guy get to win? He's learned nothing!---

I have more stuff to draw for this encounter, including the "I'm sorry/ thank you" pictures. I leave this one off with the knowledge that Isa used to tug on his hair as a stress stim. Guess is stuck around huh.

______________________

Post Loops Roboro

Roboro, once again, Changes! This time to resemble a yellow dandelion, rather then a white one. The family is long gone by the time Roboro wakes up again, and first thing's first- It has to find clothes. It doesn't like the weird looks people give him.

So, he goes to the House, braves the looks and gasps and confusion. It's trauma be damned, it's gonna talk to that Head Housemaiden finally.

He meets up with Euphrasie, and she quickly catches on what must be going on.

She's readily willing to give Roboro one of her old dresses-

Problem being- 1. They are too big on it (he may be Tall, but not EUPHIE level tall-) and 2. It wouldn't be the most comfortable wearing a dress around.

So, they figure they should make some adjustments. Euphrasie is willing to make the adjustments, it would only take her a day or two.

However, Roboro kind of... wants to try to do it themselves. There's no rush, it has nowhere to be. Maybe... maybe learning to re-engage with an old hobby could be good for it...?

Euphie excitedly lets it stay at the House, figure out what it wants to do- to take it's time changing!

Obviously, Roboro has trauma from the House. The walls, the cramped space- it terrifies them. But they also don't want to stay at anyone's home in Dormont, the awkwardness would kill him, if feeling like a nuisance doesn't do it first.

So. Roboro stays at the rooftop.

Roboro does some sewing on a new outfit, at the top of the House. At the very end of everything.

It's a bittersweet reminder that it's over, so it's as good as it could get while staying at Dormont.

I have a whole comic about this in particular, but this is already a massive infodump so I'm gonna stop it there for now-

Roboro travels around a while. It and Isa agreed to meet up eventually, but there was no rush to it.

He went around a while, re-familiarized itself with life, with people, with hobbies, with existing-

Probably made some friendships along the way. Those are probably the people who pushed it into reconnecting with the family.

I'm not gonna go into detail about everyone's dynamics and stuff, this is too long, and I'm still writing that stuff anyway.

I can however leave you with this:

(I might change how Post Loops Isa looks in the future, I haven't quite figured it out yet)

______________________

PHEW

THAT WAS A LOT

IT'S NOT EVEN EVERYTHING I HAVE, I HAVE SO MUCH STUFF AUGH,,,

Anyways, I just wanted to thank you all for the support on the first post, I didn't expect it at ALL Just know I appreciate it :]

[simpee9000]

Super random but I’m a writer and I’ve been stuck on an idea I can’t get going😅 if you’re willing to/interested I’d love to see what you can do with the idea. I’m a domestic kinda girly so don’t judge 🫣🤣

Idea:

Bakugo coming home to retired ex-hero wife who’s excited to tell him about the new recipe she learned or something like that and it makes him feel frisky because she’s still so devoted in everything she does it just all goes to him now

I can try! I'm really rusty at smut so bear with me here! (Don't ask me how I'm writing a smut story despite only writing it maybe three times before)

Despite the smut not being the best I hope I did well enough. I've never done a request before so this is a first! Thank you <3

Word Count 2k~ Smut, and slightest gore at the beginning

Katsuki Bakugo x retired pro hero reader

Your leg was blasted off from under you. Making you collapse as you buckled under your weight. A silent scream of pain coming from you. Landing onto your stomach before falling onto your side, confused from the amount of pain. Your hero suit was torn in every spot possible, ends being burnt off mid-thigh.

From the knee down your left leg was gone, the pure gore of it made you fall back, head on the ground as you stared up at the dusty sky. It is covered with debris and ashes from the collapsed buildings nearby.

It was a simple fire earlier, quickly turning south when a villain was found on the lower levels. Flattening all buildings nearby. Back-up was called of course, but they were far too late. You were basically gone the second you made contact with the villain. Getting thrown through several walls by an air quirk. Mind going fuzzy just from that, but to make matters worse, a grenade was thrown with you.

You heard the sounds of other heroes and took it as a sign to back down. Resting into the concert underneath you as you tried to stabilize yourself. Ultimately passing out from the pain.

-

Waking up in the hospital sent you on another trip, you thought you were gone. Dead. The haze that surrounded the hospital consumed you as you looked around. The sterile air, empty with chemicals that dried it up. Beeping coming from your heart monitor, a steady pulse made everything feel even more surreal.

Your arm was in a sling and your left leg was gone. Same as before you passed out. Your ribs hurt as you tried to breathe. Panicking from the pain, a doctor rushed in.

Telling you all the things wrong with you, all the options you had.

Nothing felt good enough. Your body was broken, caved in. You lost not only your leg but most of your mobility, everything hurt. You were told everything would continue to hurt. Physical therapy and healing quirks could only do so much.

You tried to listen as the doctor droned on and on about how they had the best doctors. How they could get you a prosthetic that could help you walk again.

The fact that you wouldn't be able to walk without it stunned you.

How could you ever continue to be a hero in this state? You knew Mirko had done it, even your teacher Aizawa did it. But this felt life-changing. It was life-changing.

You thought you died. You didn't want to die.

"Fucking hell," you turned your attention to Katsuki, who just barged in. Pausing in the doorway as he looked you over.

You could say something sappy and it'd be true. As you looked at him you thought over everything. Barely hearing the concerned questions he asked you before turning to the doctor.

Raising a kid as two pro heroes would be impossible. Katsuki and you wanted kids, you couldn't let them see you like this, or worse. They couldn't live without a mother or father.

You couldn't be a hero.

"I'll take a prosthetic," you spoke out finally.

They both looked at you, the doctor labeling your options, "There are a lot of good options for hero work-"

"I'll just have a normal one," you avoided looking at Katsuki, almost ashamed. You loved hero work. You loved saving people. Working harder each day alongside him as you aimed to be your best.

"Okay, I'll file the paperwork," the doctor excused himself, leaving the room to you and Katsuki.

He stared at you for a while, waiting for you to speak. "I think I'm done," you said softly, "All this hero work, consumes my life."

He grasped your hands in his, "Okay."

"I'm sorry, I know that's not what you wanted-"

"But it's what you want," he shot down your apology, "It's okay."

"I don't know what I'll do-"

"We'll figure it okay together," he got rid of your doubts, "I don't think I could stomach seeing you like this again anyway," he confessed.

-

Quitting was difficult, it changed your life drastically. You stayed home more often, picking up smaller hobbies that you never had time for before.

Reading more often, baking, cooking, you were even starting to learn how to crochet. You had so much time and it was freeing. Leaving you with a flexible schedule. Helping Katsuki out on cases he needed a second opinion on, or what event he should go for to help his publicity.

Devoting your time to things you loved freely, rather than just hero work. You missed it sometimes, after all, you have been doing it since you were 15 and only stopped a year ago when you were 26.

It made things easier, schedule easily aligning with Katsuki and giving you more time with the spikey blonde. More time together allowed you to get closer, him engaging on your three-year anniversary.

You thought about your wedding, planned for next year, as you flipped through your new recipe book. Stumbling on a delicious-looking meal that you thankfully had all the ingredients for. Grabbing the ingredients absent-mindedly as you thought about the type of wedding you'd have.

Katsuki didn't care much, telling you to go nuts with it. His mom wanted to help though, and you warmly welcomed it. Excited to be close to his family at any opportunity.

Cutting each ingredient carefully as you mix it into the full meal. Humming in thought when you heard Katsuki's keys on the other side of the front door.

He walked into the kitchen after smelling your cooking, every day you offered him a new meal. He loved that you shared this hobby with him.

"What y'making?" he walked behind where you stood at the stove. Wrapping his arms around your waist as he buried his chin into your shoulder, looking at what you were doing.

"I just found a new recipe! The cookbook I bought has so many good things," you shared excitedly, "Lots of protein and vegetables, just the way you like it."

"I fuckin' love you," he kissed your neck and hugged you tighter.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a hand towel and wiping your hands off before you turned in his grip, wrapping your arms around his neck. He had his hero mask pushed up over his eyes, holding his hair back. "How was work?" you asked, swaying lightly with him.

"Work," he replied back, leaning down to kiss you.

Your lips connected for a moment before you pulled back, "You need a shower," you tried to smack away the taste of charcoal that was left on your lips. Concerned about how he even had that happen.

He rolled his eyes, squeezing at the fat of your hips, "As long as you join me?"

You looked over your shoulder and at the food, "I don't know, food just got done."

Without another word he pulled away from you and grabbed a pan lid, placing it over the pan filled with food and taking it off the heat. "We'll reheat it later, let's go," he grabbed your hand and put you in front of him as he walked behind you to the shower.

You giggled as you matched the forced pace he was making you walk, "Impatient much?" you teased.

He didn't answer, just pulled his shirt right off your body. He stared at it enough already and wanted more. He groaned when he noticed you were only wearing panties, the cheeky ones that he loved. "Fuckin' knew today was gonna be a good day," he mumbled before kissing you roughly, scaling kisses down your neck and onto your chest. He didn't seem like he could be happier at the fact you weren't wearing a bra, pressing kisses at every bare inch of you.

Nipping at your bud before sucking your tit into his mouth. His hand taking care of the other. "Kats," you whined, pulling him away by his hair when he mumbled a 'what' into your chest, "Shower."

Reluctantly he pulled away, flipping the shower on before ripping his shirt off, pushing his pants and boxers off as well. His hairband had fallen off when he was kissing you earlier. Despite being with him for three years, you still flushed at him bare.

He was built amazingly, sheer hard work sculpted him into a Greek god. You watched his arm ripple in muscle as he checked the temperature of the water before moving to grab you and push you into the water with him. Connecting your lips once in.

"I mean it Kats," you pushed his chest away, making his hair start soaking with water, "Shower."

Making a show of following your orders, he quickly washed his hair. Probably taking the fastest shower of his life before taking his time to run the soap over your body. Not nearly as rough as he washed his own. Kissing your shoulder blade before washing your back, "Beautiful," he murmured into your skin.

You twisted in his hold, deciding you were clean enough before you leaned into him locking his lips in a passionate kiss. You were only human after all, it's impossible to refuse him for long

Bringing your hands up to tangle into his hair, pulling him closer to your height. Easing the strain on the prosthetic, thankful that it was waterproof.

He took anything you gave him, following your lead as you backed yourself into the shower wall. His hands grabbed at your thighs and lifted you, pressing you into the cold tile as he held you up. Kissing his marks over your chest. Layering over where he had already kissed.

"I love you so fucking much," he murmured into your skin, taking a moment to back away and look over you. Soaking in the look you were giving him, full of devotion.

"I love you more," you whispered in reply, pulling him into another kiss. Leaving him to squeeze your thigh, frustrated that you shut him up with a kiss.

He pushed you more into the wall with one hand while he moved his other between you. Trailing it between your folds "It's been too fucking long," he groaned when he felt you, wet and wanting him.

"Can I just have you?" you whined, moving your hand into his hair and pulling desperately. He'd tease you for hours if he could. And with the colding temperature of the water, you couldn't handle that.

"Need me that bad?" he smirked down at you, circling his fingers over your clit meanly.

"Please?"

He wasn't lying when he said it had been too long. The second he gave in and lined himself up, the strain of just his tip was enough to force your head back. The push of him into you felt relieving, it was something you had missed without even knowing.

"Oh fuck," he moaned, head falling into your shoulder as he stilled. Letting you adjust for just a moment before he pulled his hips back. Slowly building pace as he works you both up to the climax.

Breaths tangled together as the steam from the shower clouded your vision.

Your hands were moving over his back and up his shoulders, trying to steady yourself despite his constant thrusts. Knocking the breath out of you each time.

His hand stayed on your clit, moving in sharp circles over you as he knew he wouldn't last. He hasn't had you in so long and wouldn't be held back. Yet he wouldn't be the only one to cum.

He was already close, he was worked up the second he saw you in the kitchen. Seeing you in your home together, cooking for him while wearing his clothes. It made him feel like everything would be okay, he had you. Everything was an effort together rather than alone, and he welcomed it.

The small grunts and moans he was making right next to your ear was sending you up the wall.

"Gonna cum baby? Feel y'fuckin' squeezing me," he panted, working his hips harder into his. You whined in reply, nodding your head frantically. He knew all your spots, bullying his cock straight into your spot.

He felt like he was falling in love all over again any time he looked at you, even now. Your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and your head lolled back, your body relying on him to stay upright as you blabbed for more. Knowing he'd give anything to you if you just asked. Your legs locked around him when you came, completely losing yourself in his hold as he worked his dick into you. Groaning at you tightening around him before he gave in and met you where you were.

Filling you up, not caring if it got you pregnant or not at this point, he knew everything would be fine.

You looked fucked out, eyes half-lidded as you looked at him, he was melting inside. Reluctantly letting you gain your footing back and letting you clean yourself fully.

It was a blur of a shower afterward. He could only focus on you, mind filled only with love as he crowded you after you dried off.

"You okay, kats?" You spoke softly as you hugged him back.

"Just fuckin love you, got an issue?" he snapped back as he hugged you tighter. He was just as devoted to you as you were to him, even if he didn't always get the time to prove it.

(I'm very meh about this work but I decided to post it anyway, I need to write more and challenge myself. If you have any ideas or requests you should send them in, I'll try to write them!)

You should read my Bakugo x reader if you liked this work!

[o-sachi]

Fell First & Fell Harder Pt. 1 ‧₊˚ ⋅ Blue Lock Chars. (Request)

ଳ you fell first, but they definitely fell harder ଳ characters; isagi yoichi, barou shoei, reo mikage, rin itoshi ଳ tags; fluff, gn reader, no y/n

ᯓ Isagi Yoichi

"Hm? You wanna go get dinner? Of course. Let's go."

Getting your feelings reciprocated wasn't all that hard. You liked each other and it was all good then. But it was obvious that you took the relationship seriously early on. For a lack of a better term, it was quite one-sided for a while.

He'd be thinking about that fact a lot. Should he be happy? Should he be guilty? So so many thoughts racked his brain.

Eventually—after thinking about it so much—it's like his brain reprogrammed him. A switch was flipped and one day he was lovesick with you. He realized that life wouldn't be the same if you weren't there for him.

Everything you did for him—piled up—and his heart caved. Isagi thought he was the biggest fool for not taking you seriously as well when you first started off.

The whippest of whipped men—I tell ya. He'll indulge you in every little wish and desire you had. Absolute princess treatment from him. But he does unironically call you "queen."

ᯓ Barou Shoei

"What are you talking about? I've always been serious about you!"

The only reason he didn't pour in as much effort at first was because he was too focused on football and improving himself. You fully supported him and his dreams though. Instant brownie points!

He realizes how determined you are to stand behind him no matter what. Slowly, but surely, he builds up so much gratitude for your efforts that he softens over time.

He also realizes that you don't deserve to just cheer him from behind. As a matter of fact, you should be right beside him instead—celebrating his wins as if it were your own.

Barou tries to do the same and support you in the things you love. He'll even learn a thing or two about your hobbies so that you can bond over that as well. He tries so hard to make the relationship so equal and fair. His attempts give you the butterflies.

He will deny at all costs that he didn't love you as much as he did now. Barou will insist that he had loved you soooo much ever since. You knew he was sugarcoating to save your feelings, but it was endearing how he tried nonetheless.

ᯓ Reo Mikage

"New shoes? What about some jewelry? C'mon, let me spoil you a bit."

He was a bit reserved about your relationship at first. You were lovely and every positive adjective out there—but he had his reasons to be iffy. He's stinking rich and people have definitely taken advantage of that before.

However, you weren't like his previous lovers. You could care less about his wealth; you loved him simply for him. Painstaking as it was—you made sure that he'd realize that somehow.

And he does notice this. It was subtle, but he'd slowly ease up on you—becoming more open, spending more time with you, and being more affectionate overall.

You know he's wrapped around your little finger because he just introduced you to his parents. That's when you know it's getting SERIOUS.

When he does fall deeply in love with you, he does a whole 360 and starts spoiling you like crazy. He'll treat you out to 5-star restaurants, buy you designer brand clothing, and bring you to places all over the world. As much as you try to refuse and settle for something more lowkey, he will never back down.

ᯓ Rin Itoshi

"You're so annoying... yeah, yeah... I love you too."

He was hesitant at first because he has major abandonment issues (poor baby). He liked you, sure, but that was as far as he'd allow himself to fall for you. "Love" seemed too serious and dangerous for him to get into.

His doubts bled into your relationship and made it difficult. Truthfully, there were times when you questioned if it was worth it. But you persevered; you wanted to prove him wrong.

After a major fight, he was sure that you were going to leave without another thought. He anticipated this moment yet, he felt like he wasn't ready at all for your departure in his life.

Rin was about to go into an existential crisis when... you somehow came back to him. You smiled at him as if nothing had happened. You told him that you still loved him for all his faults. It felt like he was slapped across the face (in a good way).

Once you had helped him overcome his issues, he felt a bit more comfortable with the idea of "loving" you. So much so that he'd do everything in his power to keep you happy at all times. He was sure that he will never come across someone like you again in his life.

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[natsaffection]

I have a platonic, non smut request if you’re down! Nat x fem!reader, they’re a couple and live in a neighborhood w a girl who’s young (5 or smth) . The girl is sweet and has lemonade stands in front of her house n stuff so that’s how nat and reader interact w her. One day, the girl runs to nat and reader’s house, banging on the door begging to be let in because her mom’s boyfriend beat her up or was threatening to. Nat and reader let her in immediately and go into protection mode, even when the bf starts spitting lies, blaming the girl.

This was inspired by a video I saw where a neighbor was protecting a girl and thought it would work perfectly w nat given her own red room history n stuff. I feel like she would tolerate no BS. I know this is very different from what u normally write so I hope it’s ok 🫶

Through Darkness | N.R

Warnings: Domestic Violants, Threatening to hurt a child, mentioned of Bruises, Happy end!!

Word count: 5,4k

A/n: That was the sweetest thing I've ever written. But I needed help, so I watched We Bought a Zoo with Scarlett while I was writing.🫂

Natasha leaned against the kitchen counter, drinking a glass of water. Her sharp eyes watched you as you bustled around the kitchen, preparing dinner. The scent of fresh basil and tomatoes filled the room, making the house feel even more like a home. It had been a few months since they moved into this quiet neighborhood. After everything Natasha had been through, the chaos and destruction, the idea of a peaceful life seemed foreign to her. But here, with you by her side, she began to understand what peace could feel like.

“Dinner’s almost ready!” you said, looking up from the pot you were stirring. Your smile was one Natasha had grown fond of. Warm, welcoming, and full of love. It was a smile that made Natasha’s heart ache with how much you meant to her. She smiled back, setting down her glass and moving to stand next to you. “It smells fantastic. You always manage to make something special out of so little.”

You chuckled softly. “Years of practice. Plus, I had to learn to keep up with you.” Before Natasha could respond, a high-pitched voice outside caught her attention. “Lemonade! Fresh lemonade! Only fifty cents a cup!”

Both of you turned to the window that overlooked the front yard. There, on the sidewalk across the street, stood a little girl, no older than five. Her brown curls bounced as she enthusiastically waved a homemade sign. Next to her was a small table with a pitcher of lemonade and a few paper cups. You smiled affectionately. “She’s out there almost every day. Have you seen her?” Natasha nodded. “Yes, I’ve noticed her a few times. Sweet kid.”

“Let’s go say hello.” you suggested, already wiping your hands on a dish towel. “And maybe grab some lemonade.” Natasha hesitated for a moment, but the gentle encouragement in your eyes was enough. “Alright.” she agreed with a smile.

Together, you left the house and crossed the street. The little girl’s face lit up as she saw you approaching. “Hi!” she called out cheerfully, her brown eyes sparkling with excitement. “Do you want some lemonade?” You knelt down to her level, your smile gentle. “We’d love some. What’s your name, little one?”

“I’m Lily!” the girl said proudly, carefully pouring lemonade into two cups. Natasha handed her a dollar bill. “Keep the change, Lily.” Her eyes widened, and she beamed at Natasha. “Thank you! My mom says it’s important to save money, and I want to buy a new doll.”

“That’s a great goal.” you said, taking a cup from Lily. “I’m Y/n, and this is Natasha. We live right across the street.”

“Are you married?” Lily asked innocently, and her question caught Natasha off guard. You laughed softly and glanced at Natasha. “Not yet, but maybe one day.” Natasha felt a warmth spread through her chest at your words. She had never thought about marriage before, but the idea didn’t seem so far-fetched now.

Lily nodded seriously, as if your answer made perfect sense. “You should be. You’re both really nice.” Natasha and you exchanged a look, both touched by the child’s innocent wisdom. You stayed with Lily for a few more minutes, chatting about her lemonade business and the dolls she wanted to buy. Natasha found herself relaxing more than she had in weeks, and the simple joy of the moment eased some of the tension she had been carrying.

As you said your goodbyes and headed back to your house, you took Natasha’s hand and intertwined your fingers. “She’s sweet, isn’t she?” Natasha nodded. “Yes, she is. She reminds me that there’s good in the world.” You squeezed her hand gently. “And that’s exactly what we’re fighting for.” Natasha smiled, feeling a sense of peace spread through her. In this quiet neighborhood, with you by her side and a little girl selling lemonade, she realized that maybe, just maybe, she had found a place where she truly belonged.

The days settled into a pleasant rhythm. Natasha and you looked forward to the moments when you would see Lily, her bright smile and cheerful energy a welcome addition to your lives. Often, you would stop by her lemonade stand, sometimes just to chat, and other times to enjoy the simple pleasure of a cold drink on a warm day.

One Saturday afternoon, you decided to take a walk through the nearby park. The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm light over the tree-lined paths. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, and the laughter of children echoed from a nearby playground. As you walked hand in hand, Natasha noticed a familiar figure in the distance. Lily was skipping along the path, holding hands with a woman who must have been her mother. The woman was tall and slender, with the same brown curls as Lily, though hers were tied up in a loose bun. She had a kind face, but Natasha couldn’t miss the weariness in her eyes.

You waved to them, and Lily’s face lit up when she recognized you. “Natasha! Y/N!” she called, pulling her mother along behind her. Natasha and you smiled as you approached, exchanging a warm greeting with the little girl. Lily’s mother smiled politely, but there was a slight tension in her posture, as if she were carrying a burden no one else could see. “Hello.” you said kindly. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Y/n, and this is Natasha.”

The woman nodded, a small, somewhat forced smile on her lips. “I’m Rachel. Lily talks about you two all the time. She’s always excited to see you.” Lily beamed up at her mother. “They’re my best customers!”

Natasha laughed, kneeling down to Lily’s level. “And you’re our favorite lemonade seller.” Lily giggled, clearly pleased with the attention. As Natasha stood back up, she noticed Rachel’s gaze flick nervously over her shoulder. She followed Rachel’s eyes and saw a man standing a few steps away, his hands deep in his pockets, watching them. He was tall and broad shouldered, his expression unreadable, but something about the way he looked at Rachel made Natasha uneasy.

Rachel’s smile faltered a little, and she quickly looked back at you and Natasha. “That’s Mark, my.. boyfriend." she said, her voice a little strained. Mark nodded in greeting, but his eyes never left Rachel. Natasha felt a wave of discomfort rising in her. She had spent years honing her instincts, learning to pick up on the smallest signs of danger, and right now, every instinct was telling her that something was off.

You, always attuned to Natasha’s moods, noticed the subtle shift in her posture. You glanced at her questioningly, but she gave a barely perceptible shake of her head. Not here, not now. “Are you headed to the playground?” you asked in a light, casual tone, trying to diffuse the tension. Rachel nodded, her grip on Lily’s hand tightening. “Yes, Lily loves the playground. We try to come on weekends.”

“That’s great..” you replied, smiling at Lily. “Maybe we’ll see you around more often.” Lily looked up at her mother eagerly. “Can we play with them, Mama? Please?” she asked, her eyes hopeful as she gazed at her Mama. But she hesitated, casting a nervous glance at Mark, who only gave a slight nod of his head. “Maybe another time, sweetheart. We need to head home soon.”

Lily pouted a little but didn’t argue, sensing her mother’s unease. “Okay…” she said softly. Natasha’s heart ached at the sight of the disappointed little girl. She wanted to ask Rachel if everything was okay, if there was anything they could do to help, but she knew better than to push. Instead, she gave Lily a reassuring smile. “We’ll see you soon, okay?” Lily nodded, her smile returning, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Okay! Bye, Natasha! Bye, Y/N!”

“Goodbye!” you called as you parted ways and continued down the path. As you walked further along the trail, Natasha’s thoughts kept circling back to what she had just witnessed. Something wasn’t right about the whole encounter, especially in the way Rachel and Mark interacted. It wasn’t just protectiveness or possessiveness in Mark’s eyes..there was something darker, something that set off alarm bells in Natasha’s mind.

You gently squeezed Natasha’s hand, pulling her out of her thoughts. “What’s wrong?” you asked quietly, your voice filled with concern. Natasha cast one last glance back in the direction where Rachel, Lily, and Mark had disappeared. “I’m not sure..” she said softly. “But I’m going to find out.”

You nodded, trusting Natasha’s instincts implicitly. “Do you think she’s in trouble?” Natasha didn’t answer right away. She was trying to piece together the puzzle in her head, figuring out what exactly had triggered her discomfort. “Maybe..” she finally said. “Or maybe I’m just being paranoid. But I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.”

You frowned, your worry growing. “If you think something’s wrong, we should do something. We can’t just ignore it.” Natasha nodded, her jaw setting in determination. “We won’t. But we have to be careful. If there’s really something going on, we don’t want to make it worse.” As you continued your walk, the warmth of the sun on your back, Natasha’s thoughts kept returning to Rachel and Lily. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the peace they had found in this quiet neighborhood was more fragile than it seemed. And if something threatened that peace, Natasha was ready to do whatever it took to protect the people she cared about.

The night was quiet and still, with the moon casting a soft, silver glow over the neighborhood. Natasha and you slept peacefully in your bed, your bodies nestled close together, the gentle sound of your breathing the only noise in the room. The calm of the night seemed to envelop you, offering a rare moment of complete tranquility.

But that peace was abruptly shattered by frantic knocking at the front door. Natasha was the first to stir, her finely tuned instincts kicking in immediately. In an instant, she was out of bed, pulling on a shirt as she moved, her senses on high alert. You were awake a second later, your heart racing at the sound.

“Natasha?” you called softly as you quickly threw something on as well. “Stay here,” Natasha instructed, but you followed her downstairs anyway.

The knocking at the door grew more desperate, and Natasha felt a cold fear settling in her stomach. She motioned for you to stay back as she approached the door, but the moment she heard the sobbing of a child, all caution was forgotten. She flung the door open to find Lily standing there, her face streaked with tears, her small body trembling in the cool night air.

“Lily!” you exclaimed in shock, immediately kneeling down to be at eye level with the girl. “Sweetheart, what happened? Why are you out here?” Lily looked up at you, her lip quivering, but she said nothing. She shook her head and took a small step back, as if afraid to enter the house.

Natasha’s heart broke at the sight of the terrified little girl. She knelt beside you, her voice gentle and calm. “Lily, it’s okay. You’re safe here. No one will hurt you.” But Lily’s eyes were still wide with fear, and she clung to her stuffed animal. She was trembling so much that she could barely stand.

You gently placed a hand on Lily’s arm. “You don’t have to be scared, Lily. You can tell us what happened. We just want to help.” For a moment, Lily seemed torn between her fear and her trust in the two of you. She glanced back at the dark street, her breath catching as if she were reliving whatever had driven her to your doorstep. Then, slowly, she took a hesitant step forward and allowed you to pull her into a warm embrace.

Lily buried her face in your shoulder, her small body shaking with silent sobs. “H-He was..he was so angry..?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Natasha exchanged a worried look with you, her protective instincts flaring. “Who was angry, Lily?” she asked gently, though she already had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Lily clung to you, her small hands gripping your shirt as if she were afraid to let go. She was crying so hard that she could barely breathe, her sobs coming in ragged gasps.

“Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay..” you murmured, your voice soft and soothing as you held Lily close. You look at Natasha and don't know exactly what to do now. Natasha quickly stepped outside, her eyes scanning the dark street, searching for any signs of danger, but the neighborhood was eerily still. She turned back to you and Lily, her heart breaking at the sight of the frightened little girl.

“Lily, sweetheart, who was angry? Can you tell us?” Lily’s sobs began to subside, though she was still trembling. She buried her face in your shoulder again, her voice muffled and broken. “H-He hit Mommy! He kept hitting her. She told him to stop, but he wouldn’t stop…” Your grip around Lily tightened protectively, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Do you mean your mom’s friend? You did the right thing coming here, Lily.”

Lily sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Yes..her friend, and I remembered you said I could always come to you..” Natasha felt a surge of anger and protectiveness like she had never felt before. The thought of someone hurting this sweet little girl or her mother was unbearable. But she knew she needed to stay calm for Lily’s sake. She closed the door behind her and knelt down again.

“You were so brave, Lily." Natasha said softly, her voice steady. “You did the right thing. You’re safe now, I promise.” The little girl trembled and buried her face in your shoulder again. “I want my mommy..II want her to be okay..” You rocked her gently, your heart breaking at the thought of a child so young having to endure such fear. “We’re going to make sure your mommy is okay. We’re going to help her, and we’re going to help you.”

Natasha and you exchanged a determined look. You both knew that action needed to be taken. Natasha placed a hand on Lily’s back, trying to soothe her. “Lily, I’m going to go check on your mommy, okay? Y/n will stay here with you.”

Lily looked up at you with big, frightened eyes and clung even tighter to you. “No! Please don’t go! He’s still there! He’ll hurt you too!” Before Natasha could respond, Lily’s eyes widened with new fear. She clutched at you and began to scream in high-pitched tones. Natasha froze as she heard the sound of heavy footsteps on the porch too. The sharp smell of alcohol was the first thing she noticed, and she knew immediately who it was.

Mark.

Your face paled as you glanced toward the door, and Natasha quickly analyzed the situation. "Y/n, take her upstairs. I’ll handle this." You lifted Lily into your arms, her small face buried in your neck. "Please be careful, Natasha.."

Natasha nodded, not taking her eyes off the door. “Go.” The little girl clung to you tightly as you hurried up the stairs. Natasha positioned herself between the door and the stairs, her heart pounding in her chest as she prepared for what was about to happen. The door was thrown open with such force that it slammed against the wall. Mark stumbled into the house, his face red with anger, his eyes bloodshot and wild. The smell of alcohol was overwhelming, and Natasha’s stomach churned at the sight of him.

“Where is she?!” Mark slurred, his voice dripping with rage. “Where’s that little brat? She’s the one to blame for all of this!!” His eyes narrowed as he charged toward Natasha, his fists swinging wildly. But Natasha was faster. She dodged his attack effortlessly, grabbed his arm, and twisted it behind his back in one fluid motion. Mark cried out in pain, but Natasha didn’t loosen her grip.

“Let me go, you bitch!” Mark bellowed, struggling to free his arm from her grasp, but Natasha held him with iron strength. “You’re not going to get near that girl again." Natasha hissed, her voice low and dangerous. “You’ve done enough damage.” Mark fought against her hold, but it was futile. Natasha easily forced him to the ground and held him there. She could feel his muscles tense under her grip, but she didn’t relent.

Upstairs, you quickly brought Lily into the guest room and gently set her on the bed. “Lily, it’s okay. You’re safe here, understand? I’ll make sure of it.” Lily was still trembling, her eyes wide with fear. “Will he hurt Natasha?”

“No," you said firmly, though the fear for Natasha grew within you. "Natasha is very strong, and she’ll make sure he can’t hurt anyone anymore. But I need to make a call, okay? We need to call the police so they can help us.” Lily nodded hesitantly, curling up with her stuffed animal. You quickly pulled out your phone and dialed 911, your voice trembling slightly as you explained the situation to the dispatcher.

Downstairs, Natasha was still holding Mark down on the floor, her mind racing. She knew she needed to get Rachel and Lily out of this situation permanently, but for now, Mark was the immediate threat. The sound of sirens in the distance brought a sense of relief. Help was on the way. Mark groaned beneath her, still struggling weakly. “You..you can’t do this!! Who do you think you are?!”

Natasha leaned closer to him, her voice a deadly whisper. “Oh, watch me.” Minutes later, two police officers burst into the house. Natasha stood up and released Mark, the officers immediately moving to restrain him. He was still shouting, hurling curses and threats, but Natasha felt nothing but disgust as they hauled him to his feet. “Are you alright?” one of the officers asked as they led Mark out of the house.

“I’m fine." Natasha replied coolly. “But you should check on the mother across the street. I think she’s in bad shape.” The officer nodded seriously. “We’ll take care of it. Thank you for stepping in.” Natasha watched as they led Mark out of the house and closed the door behind them. The house was suddenly quiet again, but the tension in the air remained palpable. Natasha took a deep breath to calm her nerves before heading upstairs.

When she reached the guest room, she found you sitting on the bed next to Lily. The little girl had finally calmed down and was no longer crying. The sight of the vulnerable and frightened child made Natasha’s heart ache, but she forced herself to smile gently as she approached. “It’s over." Natasha said softly. “He’s gone.”

Lily looked up at her, her eyes still wet with tears. “Is my mommy okay?” Natasha knelt beside the bed, her voice gentle and reassuring. "The police are going to check on your mommy and make sure she's okay. And we're going to help you and your mommy, Lily. We won't let anyone hurt you again."

Lily nodded slowly, a small spark of hope appearing in her eyes. "Promise?" Natasha reached out and softly wiped away a tear from Lily's cheek. "I promise."

You wrapped your arm around Lily and pulled her close. "You're safe now, sweetheart. We'll take care of everything." As Lily finally began to relax in your arms, Natasha felt a deep determination rising within her. This wasn't the end of the situation, but it was the first step. She was going to do everything in her power to protect Lily and Rachel, no matter what it took.

The paramedics had just treated Rachel’s injuries, and the police were finishing their reports. The once peaceful night was now filled with quiet, official conversations, and the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles cast an eerie glow through the windows. Lily sat on the sofa between Natasha and you, her small body still trembling, and her large eyes reflected a mixture of fear and confusion.

Rachel sat nearby, her face marked with bruises, and her expression was exhausted. The weight of the night’s events had drained her, but her entire focus was on Lily, who was like a beacon of strength for her. One of the police officers approached Rachel, his tone professional but gentle. “Mrs. Dawson, under the circumstances, protocol requires that we place your daughter in temporary foster care until you are able to care for her again.”

Rachel’s already pale face turned even whiter, and she immediately shook her head, panic flashing in her eyes. “No! No, please, she can’t go into foster care.. She’s been through enough. Please, don’t take her away from me!”

Lily looked up in alarm at the officer’s words, her wide, frightened eyes turning to her mother. “Mama..I don’t want to go..” Instinctively, you put your arm around Lily and pulled her closer to you. Natasha’s expression darkened as she sensed the rising fear in Rachel and Lily. The thought of Lily being taken away, even temporarily, was unthinkable to you both. Not after everything the little girl had already endured.

Rachel looked at Natasha and you with desperation, her voice trembling with emotion. “Please..she can stay with you, right? You live right across the street. She knows you, she feels safe with you..please, don’t let them take her away.” The officer hesitated, visibly torn. “Ma’am, I understand your concern, but the safety of the child is our top priority. We need to ensure that she’s in a stable environment while you recover.”

Natasha stood up, her stance determined as she stepped forward. “She is in a stable environment. Right here, with us.” Her voice was calm but firm, with the tone of someone who wasn’t used to being questioned. You nodded, equally resolute. “We live right across the street. We’re neighbors and friends, and Lily trusts us. We can take care of her while Rachel is in the hospital. You can check in on her anytime.”

The officer looked between Natasha and you, clearly aware of who you both were. He sighed, knowing this wasn’t an easy decision. “Are you sure you can take on this responsibility? It could be several days, maybe longer.”

Natasha didn’t hesitate. “We’re sure. We’ll make sure she’s safe, and she’ll be close to her mother. That’s what’s best for her.” Rachel’s eyes filled with tears of relief as she reached for Lily’s hand. “Please, Officer.. don’t take her away from me. I can’t bear it. She’s been through enough already.” The officer exchanged a look with his colleague, then back at Natasha and you. After a brief pause, he nodded. “Alright. We’ll allow it, but we’ll need to conduct regular checks to ensure everything is going smoothly.”

Natasha nodded. “Of course. We’ll cooperate fully.” The officer turned to Rachel. “We’ll take you to the hospital now, Mrs. Dawson. You need to focus on your recovery.” Rachel nodded, tears streaming down her face as she turned to Lily. “Sweetheart, you’ll stay with Natasha and Y/n for a little while, okay? They’ll take good care of you.”

Lily, still clutching her stuffed animal, looked up at her mother, her voice trembling. “But..I-I want to stay with you, Mama..”

Rachel’s heart broke at her daughter’s words, but she forced herself to smile despite the pain. “I know, darling. And I want to stay with you too. But I need to get better first, so I can be with you again. Natasha and Y/n will take care of you, and I’ll be very close by, okay?” Lily nodded slowly, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Okay..but promise me you’ll come back soon?”

Rachel’s voice cracked as she leaned down and kissed Lily’s forehead. “I promise, sweetheart. I’ll come back as soon as I can.” You gently took Lily’s hand in yours, your voice soft and reassuring. “Let’s go home, Lily. We’ll make you some hot chocolate and get you to bed, okay?” Lily nodded again, her small hand gripping yours tightly. She gave her mother one last look, and Rachel smiled encouragingly through her tears and nodded to her.

As the paramedics helped Rachel to her feet and escorted her out of the house, you and Natasha led Lily back across the street to your home. The little girl was quiet, her mind clearly processing everything that had happened. You carried her into the living room and set her on the sofa while Natasha locked the door and made sure the house was secure.

Inside, you knelt in front of Lily and gently wiped away a stray tear from her cheek. “You’re so brave, Lily. Your Mama is going to get better, and we’ll take care of you until then. You’re safe here with us.” Natasha sat down beside Lily on the sofa. “We’ll make sure you stay close to your Mommy, and we’ll visit her as soon as she’s feeling better. But for now, we’re here for you.”

Lily looked up at both of you, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and trust. “Okay..but can we visit her tomorrow?” You smiled, your heart filled with love for the little girl. “We’ll try, sweetheart. Let’s get through the night first, and then we’ll see what we can do tomorrow.” Natasha gently stroked Lily’s hair, feeling a strong protective instinct for the child who had already been through so much. “We’re here for you, Lily. You’re not alone.”

In the quiet of the night, as Lily finally fell asleep in the next room, you and Natasha shared a silent moment of reflection. You had stepped into this role out of necessity, but now it felt like more. You were no longer just neighbors or friends; you were a family, brought together by circumstances and bound by love. And as long as you had each other, you knew you could face any challenges that lay ahead.

The visit to the hospital the next day went as well as could be hoped for in such a situation. Lily clung to her mother, her small body finally relaxing in the comforting arms of Rachel, and Rachel, though bruised and exhausted, smiled brighter than Natasha and you had ever seen. There was still a long road ahead of them, but the worst seemed to be over.

Three days later, Rachel was discharged. As the evening wore on, you and Natasha returned home, your house now quieter without Lily’s youthful energy. The night had gently fallen over the neighborhood, and a sense of calm finally settled in after the emotional whirlwind of the past few days. After getting ready for bed, you found yourselves lying close together, the soft light of the bedside lamp casting a warm glow over the room. Your hands were intertwined, both of you lost in thought.

You broke the silence first, your voice gentle. “You were amazing with Lily, Nat. You really helped her through something so terrible.” Natasha turned her head slightly to look into your eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. “I just wanted to make sure she was safe. She’s a strong little girl, but no one should have to go through what she did.”

You nodded, your gaze softening as you brushed a strand of hair from Natasha’s face. “You have such a strong protective instinct. That’s one of the things I love most about you.” Natasha’s smile faded a little, and she looked away, her eyes clouded with memories she rarely let surface. You, always sensitive to her moods, hesitated before speaking again.

“Nat..h-have you ever thought about..starting a family of our own?” you asked quietly, your voice filled with both hope and caution. Natasha held her breath for a moment, feeling her heart tighten. She had always known this conversation would come eventually, but now that you had voiced it, it felt even more real. She took a deep breath before answering, her voice calm but tinged with deep pain.

“You know that I…The Red Room made sure that..” Your heart aching at the thought of all the horrors Natasha had endured, and the irreversible damage done to her body. It was a subject Natasha rarely spoke about, and you had always respected that, never pushing, because you knew how deeply the pain ran. “I know, Nat.." you said softly, holding her hand a little tighter. “But..family doesn’t have to be just biological. Look at what we’ve done for Lily in just a few days. You were there for her like a mother would be. And I think..I think you’d make an incredible mom. And..if it’s okay to say this..But what if I get pregnant?”

Natasha looked into your eyes, her green eyes reflecting the inner battle she was fighting. “But what if..what if I can’t do it? What if I can’t be what a child needs? I’ve spent my whole life fighting, Y/n. I’m not sure I even know how to be..normal.”

You smiled, leaning in to give her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “You don’t have to be anything other than yourself, Natasha. That’s exactly why I love you. And being parents doesn’t mean we have to be perfect. It means loving, protecting, and doing our best.” Natasha’s heart ached with a mix of longing and fear. The thought of having a family, of creating something good and whole out of the broken pieces of her past, was both terrifying and tempting. But as she looked into your eyes, she felt a warmth, a hope she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time.

“Do you really think we could do it?” Natasha asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. You nodded, your eyes shining with love and certainty. “Yes, I do. And we’d do it together, just like we do everything else. We don’t have to decide right now, but..I wanted you to know that I’ve been thinking about it. And I would want to do it with you.”

Natasha was silent for a long moment, letting the idea settle in her heart. It was a difficult topic, one that opened old wounds, but your unwavering support gave her the courage to at least consider it. Finally, Natasha nodded slightly, her grip on your hand tightening just a little. “Maybe..maybe one day. I don’t know if I’m ready yet, but..I’d like to think about it. With you.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with even more love for the woman beside you. “That’s all I could ever want, Nat..Everything in its own time.” The two of you lay there in silence for a while, holding each other close, the weight of the conversation gradually giving way to a deep, comforting sense of connection. Outside, the night was quiet and peaceful, and inside, in the warmth of your love, the future seemed a little less daunting. As Natasha closed her eyes, feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat under her hand, she allowed herself to dream of a future where the two of you could build a family together. It was a new and unfamiliar dream, but with you by her side, it no longer seemed impossible. And with you beside her, she knew you could face whatever the future had in store for you both.

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🤧🤧🤧🤧

[soaringwide]

PAC: How to enhance your personal allure and beauty? • Glamour Reading

This reading is meant to dive into your own personal glamour and find ways to magnify the way you appear to others, privately or publicly.

Beauty is about weaving illusions in some ways, but the best lies contain a part of truth. How to weave lies and truths to enhance your expression of beauty is what I'm going to try to uncover today, which is why we're going to look both at your natural abilities and untapped potential.

It's something I've wanted to do for a long time since it's a subject that fascinates me, and wanted to test it out in a tarot spread, so a pick a pile readings seems like a good starting point.

If you'd like a personal reading, I'm in the process of opening my website but in the meantime I'm available through DMs.

As always, this is a general reading meant for multiple people so it might not apply 100% to you. Take what resonates and leave out the rest.

If you liked the reading and want to tip me, I have a ko-fi.

PILE 1

Cards: The Hanged Man, Death, The Chariot, Knight of Cups, The Fool, 7 of Cups, Queen of Pentacles, 10 of Swords, Ace of Pentacles, Page of Pentacles

First, let's look into your natural beauty and talents, if you will. This is easy to tap into and you might already do it to some extent, and is what people perceive from you at first glance.

I see someone with a strong, magnetic presence that might be intimidating to some people, giving the vibe of someone who is confident and knows what impression they want to give off. You have a very deliberate style and strong personal allure that might lean into darker types of aesthetic, but it would definitely be ornate, romantic (in the true, dramatic sense of the word) and as far away from minimalism as possible. I see you choosing little elements that others might not notice but that are full of meaning and symbolism for you, like a piece of jewellery, or swapping the color of your shoelace or socks to fit into a vision you have in your head. Wearing hats or headpieces might also be something significant for you. You see your clothes and other visual upgrades as some type of armor you wear to feel stronger, more confident, and make a great impression on people around you. You like being noticed and want people to find you beautiful or stylish, but at the same time have very little regard for established rules and like to bring a twist of change in the way you appear to others. It's like you're already practicing glamour naturally, funnily enough, because I see you magnifying your natural talents already and you definitely are shrouded in some type of glamourized, attractive mystery.

When it comes to your ideal archetypal beauty, what you can draw inspiration from to push yourself even further, i see you as someone who embodies the characteristics of going against expectations when it comes to style and appearances. I get the idea of playing around with gender expression (might not apply to all or be applicable to varying degrees), going against what's commonly assumed to be fitting for your perceived gender to create something unique and different, but it could also simply be about going against common taste. It's about carving out your own path, inspired by yourself and your unique perspective on life, and by extension, on your style and appearance. This is not someone who follows trends and style guides mindlessly, but someone who is not afraid of calling everything into question, in order to incorporate what they choose and add their own unique flair to it. Taste is subjective and it's something you can learn to lean even more into.

Now, for the untapped qualities, or raw power you can learn to incorporate, I see strong Uranus influence, which was already highlighted in your ideal archetypal influence.

There is an elements to finding joy and pleasure in shocking others a little bit. Letting yourself be completely free with your style expression, but keeping personal enjoyment in mind. The goal is not to shock for the sake of being an obnoxious eccentric, but going to the core of what makes you feel empowered and free and fining the graceful pleasure in it. There is also the idea of weaving some type of illusion so that people can never guess what you're going to do next. I think you have an untapped natural talent for manipulating how others see you a little bit. Right now you focus on your personal magnetism, but you could push that even further and endow yourself in whatever illusion you see fit for the time or situation. I see you being able to work on your appearance like a beautiful work of art, following the vision you have in mind.

For how you can magnify everything I mentioned, here is what I see.

First of all, it seems that despite all the great things I said about you, deep down, you feel quite inadequate and vulnerable, which is perhaps why you put so much effort into your ''armor''. I've got to tell you that these doubts are only in your mind and that the powers I describe are felt very strongly by others, they might just never say it or only give you a light compliment, which you don't even take into account. You seem to keep these worry very private and assume everyone can sense that when it's not the case. So yeah I definitely see you are already doing sooo much but it's just in your mind you don't see it, which is the first thing you need to focus on. Because I think that these doubts might influence your stylistic choices to some extent, which would be self-sabotaging your natural and ideal strengths. Therefore, you first need to clear out these thoughts and hurts in order to see yourself as others see you, in your highest potential.

Secondly and once you've done that, you definitely are advised to invest further in your appearance, and by that it could be money but also time, effort and energy. I feel like there is a new direction that is available to you, perhaps to switch things up a little or express some things more intensely. In both cases, the very strong message is to be deliberate in your vision and keep your eyes on this. I think you already do it to some extent, but here we're talking about Glamour, glamour, like, it's not enough to pick a pair of earrings or the color of your top, you need to focus on what it is the impact you want to have on others is, and how to best achieve that, keeping in mind the strong Uranian influences about being your own Icon and breaking boundaries along the way. Really, the next step involves planning and deliberate steps. Don't just throw whatever in your cart but be mindful of what story it's telling and if it aligns with your vision.

If you liked the reading and want to tip me, I have a ko-fi.

PILE 2

Cards: Queen of Cups, 8 of Swords, The Star, The World, The Lovers, The High Priestess, Knight of Cups, The Hanged Man, Ace of Wands, 9 of Cups

First, let's look into your natural beauty and talents, if you will. This is easy to tap into and you might already do it to some extent, and is what people perceive from you at first glance.

What's actually really interesting is that there seem to be an opposition between constriction vs liberation, as embodied by Saturn in Aquarius qualities. It seems being in touch with your imagination and ideals is natural to you, you appear dreamy but in a melancholic way, a loner that people don't approach easily. People might get the sense that you are lost in your thoughts and that something else is taking your attention. You don't project a strong sun-like charisma, but rather, charm people when they get close to you and get a feel for your rich inner world. You are very authentic in the way you approach your appearance, as in, you don't seek to appear as someone you are not, up to a fault I'd say. Like, if you don't hold a high opinion of yourself that might stop you from dressing how you like because it doesn't feel true in some way. It's also like you feel constricted when you have to follow a dress code and would rather be able to wear whatever puts you at ease in the given situation, but then again it's a problem is you feel weak or stuck because it influences your choices. On top of that, I'm again getting strong ideals, so I would not be surprised if your social or political ideals influence the way your present yourself. Perhaps you have an inclination towards sustainable fashion or cruelty free beauty and it helps you feel more aligned with your inner world.

When it comes to your ideal archetypal beauty, what you can draw inspiration from revolves around the idea to let your idealistic and creative nature run free, like the waves on the ocean's shore. This hints at a poetic approach to your style and appearance, with the desire to evoke gentle feelings. Your archetypal beauty is one of a siren, enchanting and mysterious. You might benefit from beautifully ornate jewelry, nacre, pearls and shells come to mind, and I'm also getting renaissance inspired aesthetic like cherubs imagery and dramatic silhouettes, rosy cheeks and braided hairstyles. The ocean is wide and mysterious, fascinating and unknowable, and that's definitely an allure you can harness at your highest potential. Even in that configuration, you're still highly focused on your inner world but it appears on the outside as well.

Now, for the untapped qualities, or raw power you can learn to incorporate, I see a few messages.

The thing is that, despite the saturnine influences, you do have raw potential for a more radiant and inviting, shall we say, energy to you. With the Lovers which is connected to Gemini, you can really learn to actually express your rich inner world and come across as communicative and adaptable regardless of the social situation. Balancing out the coldness with warmth and being more inviting if you will. Someone people can't stop looking at, which implies you actually have to get out of your comfort zone and accept being seen by others.

Paired with you natural characteristics, this has the potential to increase your magnetism and make you mysteriously seductive because people will tap into both layers, sensing an inviting and charming first impression but also getting a feel of your deep inner world. There is also the potential to truly express your emotions through your clothes and appearance and thus sticking true to your desire for authenticity. Don't shy away from being creative and even artistic with your appearance. You have a natural inclination toward romantic styles and flowyness (sheer fabrics or silk-like textures) which can make you stand out in a crowd. Approach your style like a dream, something that is felt intensely and that you can get lost in. Play around with color combinations, and I would suggest having fun creating color palettes that evoke specific feelings rather than being minimal because you want to blend in. You can really project a striking vibe with your newfound confidence, with the help of your clothes and beauty care.

For how you can magnify everything I mentioned, here is what I see.

First of all there is a need to change you ways drastically. As we saw, there seem to be an opposition with how people currently see you vs what your potential is. Don't get me wrong, everything is present within you but it's like it's dormant. I sense you being somewhat stuck in your routine and stylistic habits and reluctant to change anything. You are being called to step up and take actions toward change. Dare to wear what makes you feel like your creative and dreamy self. You know yourself well but if you truly want to change the way people see you you have to take deliberate actions towards that. Not by wearing what you think people want but by going to the highest vision you have of yourself.

You would also benefit greatly from a more optimistic outlook on yourself and learn to communicate happiness, ease and expansion. Be more generous with your energy, which means that you don't have to hold everything in in fear of being judged or disliked, but rather learning to stand strong in your individuality and communicate it to others. Not everyone will like it obviously but those who do will be enchanted by your presence.

If you liked the reading and want to tip me, I have a ko-fi.

PILE 3

Cards: Ace of Cups, The Magician, 3 of Pentacles, The Hermit, 9 of Swords, 5 of Pentacles, King of Cups rx, the Fool, 7 of Cups, 3 of Swords

First, let's look into your natural beauty and talents, if you will. This is easy to tap into and you might already do it to some extent, and is what people perceive from you at first glance.

I get strong Mercury qualities when it comes to how you naturally appear to others. You manage to seduce others with your quick wit and knowledge on many different subjects. It's like, there is nothing you don't have a smart or funny opinion on and people love that about you. You are highly intellectual and I think you like mirroring that in your appearance, favoring established aesthetics and proven formulas, relaying more on your personality than your clothes so to speak. And if clothes you chooses to put the accent on, I see a more traditional and refined approach. Modest and put together. You are meticulous in your choices and don't like appearing messy. Nothing comes in excess, you pay attention to color and texture harmony and like a balanced, classic look. As a result you appear serious and put together to others.

When it comes to your ideal archetypal beauty, what you could embody when pushed to your highest degree, with the Ace of Cups, it is quite abstract than a given aesthetic. I see you having the power to initiate strong positive emotions towards others. Perhaps they admire you or have fond feelings for you, or they may fall in love or become friends with you easily. You make them feel easily connected to you by you presence and allure, you energy having that color that drives people in. It's like, a very friendly and gently type of charisma.

Now, for the untapped qualities, or raw power you can learn to incorporate, I'm not sure why but I feel a strong rag to riches vibe here. As in, it is possible that you have experienced mental and financial hardship in the past, a situation might have improved to some extent, but that probably isn't fixed completely yet. That left you scarred and you try your best to hide it, which is why it's in the raw power position. I see the potential to use that as a strength to add depth to your character. With the King of Cups reversed, you feel inadequate and undeserving. I'm getting the sense that when it comes to glamour, you can fake it till you make it so to speak. Don't forget we are talking about magnifying your allure and I think there's definitely an air of like, you know who you are and you are aware of your situation, but you don't want to appear that way to others. It's strange because for all pile I got strong impression and aesthetics here, but for you it looks more like something that's dragging you down, which means there's a potential to turn it into a strength in some way. You got the Ace of Cups as ideal archetype and the King of Cups is nothing but the Lord of this Ace, so if you manage to flip it you can embody its quality and empathetic, abundant authority and trigger positive feelings in others. There is also this idea that, even when you make that shift, you won't forget where you come from and will keep being highly empathetic and kind, and that will be part of your charm.

For how you can magnify everything I mentioned, I notice a strong idea of starting fresh and stepping away from the heartache that plagues you. There is a youthful carelessness to it as well, the idea of opening yourself to the world and see the richness you have within with your larger than life personality. You would benefit from letting that aspect of you loose a bit. You are a bit chaotic at heart and this is so so endearing to many.

Furthermore, don't get too focused on glimmers, as all that shines is not gold. I think you may have a tendency to seek material things to counter or hide your difficulties with money, but here it's all about character expression when it comes to charm people. But be mindful of how you interact with others as to not to appear aloof or unapproachable.

If you liked the reading and want to tip me, I have a ko-fi.

[saintzweig]

gym teacher! patrick moodboard & headcanons

– thank you for 400!!! this is long overdue but i just had so many ideas for it, i had to write them all down. all hail gym patrick teacher anon. slightly proof read idk also i just kinda went ham on this so apologies if it's very out of character or slightly different from the ones i've posted before.

ꢾ꣒ the first time you saw patrick, he's walking down the hallways beside the principal. a very casual fit, jeans and shirt, because he doesn't have much going on in his wardrobe. (having sold his expensive clothes to afford gas and food)

ꢾ꣒ you were asked to give him a tour so when you were introduced, his first thought is how much you give miss honey from matilda vibes.

ꢾ꣒ your personality wasn't far from it as well– selfless, passionate and caring, everything he wasn't and hadn't witnessed in years.

ꢾ꣒ you've heard about him, of course. the teacher's lounge was filled with excited since the news of pro-tennis player patrick zweig coming to work in their local school.

ꢾ꣒ when you gave him the tour, he seemed a little jittery and ended up overcompensating with jokes and compliments. which he knows definitely weren't the right things to say but it's his first job, an actual job that he felt he had no qualifications for.

ꢾ꣒ you were understanding though, didn't judge him so quickly which he was extremely grateful for.

ꢾ꣒ he quickly got on well with the students because well, he's young, cool and funny. he was definitely not that great when it comes to paperworks and lessons during his first few months at school but he learned eventually.

ꢾ꣒ the students love calling him mr.z because they somehow end up butchering his last name plus he thinks it's very validating when teens think you're cool enough to give you a nickname.

ꢾ꣒ he loves making the kids play dodgeball because it's brutal lol

ꢾ꣒ he would always come by your room during short breaks, shamelessly sticking his hand in the fishbowl filled with candies for your students.

ꢾ꣒ he would always try to sit with you during lunch in the teacher's lounge because he claims you're the only sane one besides him. he'd ask questions about you or tea on the teachers...

ꢾ꣒ you tried putting distance between the two of you at first because you're professional and have boundaries and he's ... patrick and new. but you soon realized how fun and comforting being in his presence is. you love your job but dealing with kids five days a week is stressful and he helps make it bearable.

ꢾ꣒ during assemblies, he'd always stand next to you with his arms crossed. pretending to watch over the students and keep them behaved but in the end, he's the one who ends up misbehaving by trying to make conversation with you, he's not that good at whispering.

ꢾ꣒ he'd always say hi, compliment your clothes or pop into your classroom to rile the kids up and annoy you. he'd come up to your desk saying he has something important to tell you but it's all nonsense, and it's only when the door closes behind him that you noticed the post-it note he left on your desk. "dinner?"

ꢾ꣒ things start to escalate more when you two were tasked to chaperone a field trip. on the way back, everyone's knocked out including you. he lets you rest your head on his shoulder, his hand itching to grab yours and keep you close.

ꢾ꣒ he'd tap you awake when he notices you're getting closer to the school. dazed, you lift your head up. accidentally just centimeters away from his. after realizing you've just been staring into each other's eyes, you both look away with a light shade of red dusting your cheeks.

ꢾ꣒ after that moment, he'd try to convince the other staffs to plan a work dinner or a night out just to get close to you and talk without all the awkwardness.

ꢾ꣒ he'd be rushing to sit next to you, doing everything to keep your attention on him. he's handing you the things you're asking for, putting more food onto your plate, refilling your glass.

ꢾ꣒ by the end of the night, you mention how you were planning to uber home but he insists that he drives you, to be safe. and he definitely didn't plan for it because his car is a mess, he opens the door to the passenger seat and tosses a bunch of stuff to the backseat before stepping aside to let you in.

ꢾ꣒ you ask him if he wanted to go for post-night out burger before driving you home and of course he's not going to say no to more time with you.

ꢾ꣒ you get your burger and fries then he drives you to a small cliff he found when he first moved here, telling you the story of how he ended up in this town in the first place.

ꢾ꣒ he was surprised to see you tearing up, you say its because he's gone through so much and found the strength to start over again but he's downplaying it, saying he's sure other people go through much worse

ꢾ꣒ and you're like, no don't say that. you're valid, everything you've gone through is valid and i'm so proud of you for striving to be better (miss honey mode activated.)

ꢾ꣒ his heart swells, staring at you with a surprised expression because he hasn't heard that in so long, that someone was proud of him.

ꢾ꣒ fast forward, you're sharing a cozy apartment after you proposed being roommates, saying rent in this economy is really bad and with your pay, you're not sure how long you're gonna be able to keep a roof over your head. it was hasty, sure but it felt right. now you've made a home together.

ꢾ꣒ he gets up atleast half an hour before you, kissing you on the forehead before getting up to brew some coffee. you two live such a domestic life, different from what he's had before you.

ꢾ꣒ on weeknights, you get a lot of take out– mostly chinese, indian and thai because you have so much work to do. sitting together to prepare lessons or grade papers.

ꢾ꣒ if you're not busy, takeouts while rewatching sitcoms (i feel like he watches full house or b99). sometimes you'd play recordings of his games and he thinks you're doing it to embarrass him but really you love tennis era patrick.

ꢾ꣒ during the weekends, you would either go out (outside the city) and explore, hike maybe or just walk around. or you would stay in and make a full course meal together, with candles and music.

ꢾ꣒ you agreed (mostly you) to keep the relationship a secret for a while and he knows how important keeping your personal life from your work life separate is to you so he respects that. and also because you don't know how workplace romance is perceived at work so better safe than unemployed.

ꢾ꣒ he drives the two of you to school so you make him wait ten minutes after you go in before he can. after work, he'd drive over a few blocks from the school and wait for you there so people don't see you going in his car.

ꢾ꣒ he tries to act normal, like you two are just friendly coworkers but he can't help going out of his way to touch you or talk to you. sliding past behind you when you're in the lounge to place his hand on your back. standing beside you and touching your arm with his when you're making coffee. secretly holding your hand under the table when you're sitting down for lunch.

ꢾ꣒ the two of you think you're so slick but literally everyone can see that you're flirting, you're in your honeymoon phase– constantly smiling and whispering to each other, blushing instantly when you make eye contact from across the room. you're not very subtle.

ꢾ꣒ while hanging out with other teachers, someone casually mentions your relationship with patrick and you're like, "huh? what relationship? we're friends" and they're like girl cut it out, we're not idiots.

ꢾ꣒ patrick is so relieved to know that they know because he's tired of (badly) pretending that you're just a coworker. he wants to be able to tell and show people that he's yours and you're his.

ꢾ꣒ the students, of course, find out eventually and being teenagers, they're shameless with their teasings. wolf whistling and squealing whenever patrick would interrupt the class to tell you something (which you know he does on purpose because he's an annoying little shit).

ꢾ꣒ he loves giving you flowers and buying you books, massaging your feet after a long day, setting a bath for the two of you to relax in. his love language is quality time and acts of service.

ꢾ꣒ he couldn't believe how different the life he's living right now from the life he used to have. he's living in a stars hollow-esque town, has a proper job that's not about tennis and has a beautiful partner he comes home with.

ꢾ꣒ he can't wait to marry you in a church and raise a family with you, have kids that will eventually go to your school and he'll teach :")

[umemiyan]

𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙏𝙀𝙈 / 𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙐𝙈. — 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝖨𝖨

𝘗𝘙𝘌𝘝𝘐𝘖𝘜𝘚 𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘗𝘛𝘌𝘙 ･ 𝘕𝘌𝘟𝘛 𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘗𝘛𝘌𝘙 ･ 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ･ 𝘛𝘈𝘎𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛

𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ sfw, but minors dni (nsfw future chapters likely) / an interpretation of "came back wrong" gojo (he's not necessarily wrong, just different) / yandere!gojo vibes / disabled-coded gojo with reader acting as caretaker; it's essentially a learning curve for everybody involved / some dubcon physical affection moments, but nothing serious / 3.4k words

well... we have made it to a second chapter!! this overall idea just really resonated with me, and after learning how it affected others as well, i just knew i had to do my best to keep it going. this is the first ever "part 2" of anything i've ever written, so i beg for just a shred of mercy! i'm trying my best, and thank you to everyone who has said kind things about this story so far. i hope you enjoy <3

The winter air is brisk and a little volatile, but you feel blessed to have it whirl past your skin—even more blessed to watch Satoru’s flesh prickle at the sensation. Alive.

You had done your best to rummage through the expanse of his closet to find a suitable coat for him to wear—one that would cut the chill of an afternoon breeze when it inevitably brushed across his body. January could be unforgiving at times—the harshest of winter moths. You wondered how cold death must’ve felt.

“Satoru, where are your shoes?” You inquired, voice muffled in his closet as you sifted through garments, multitasking in an attempt to compose an outfit for him.

He sat at the edge of his bed, eyes fixed on your movements as they often were, mind turning at your question for a moment. He stood then, paced towards the shoe rack that stood outside the closet door, and reached gently for one of your busied hands. Satoru points your fingers towards the collection of shoes.

You paused your movements, eyes curious as they followed his guidance before landing upon their intended target. “Oh, that’s right,” you said with a small shake of your head, bearing a self-defeating smile and feeling rather silly for your oversight. 

It was a challenge to become acquainted with someone else’s home amidst everything else, responsibilities stacking upon responsibilities. However, Satoru continued to prove that he could recall more than you initially thought, that he could act as your guiding light when called upon. A little ironic, you think. A little pathetic, too? No, you are human, after all. Just as he is.

He smiled in return. You swore there was even a hint of a familiar light-hearted, teasing glimmer in his eye, unless you were seeing things.

(You weren’t.)

For once, you are grateful for the rather serene nature of the school’s grounds as you stroll across them side-by-side with him, much like in days from a not-so-distant past. The remaining fallen leaves from the trees dressing the mountains rustle with the wind, colored by the touch of death but still beautiful all the same, just like something else you know.

“We can always go back if it gets too cold,” you say as a reminder to Satoru of his agency, his home on campus easy to circle back to should you take the notion. You fear he might choose to freeze himself into another early grave if that’s what you wished, and you can’t fathom the idea of making him suffer simply because he thinks it pleases you to do so. Your happiness is somehow his, and although this is a new quality you have yet to decipher, there’s still something about it that strikes you as indulgent and rather characteristic of a gluttonous Satoru Gojo.

He doesn’t respond, gaze flitting across his surroundings as he walks, nerve endings and six eyes absorbing a litany of information. A silent Satoru used to be a rare occurrence but is now the default, the air somehow punctured by the lack of his voice riding along it. However, his presence is still stark, his being brimming with energy as if to make up for the words he can no longer speak. 

Unbeknownst to you, he communicates with you not only with his physical body, but with his feelings, too—waves of energy that he projects outward on instinct, hoping you’ll have the means to grasp what he is trying to say even if he isn’t always sure what it is. It has been rather unsynchronized and sloppy thus far, but with each day that passes, your ability to hear him grows.

You can hear him now even with the only sounds being the breeze rushing in your ears and leaves crunching beneath the soles of shoes. There is something somber about him, more than usual, mixed with that same sense of being lost in a world that feels brand new. 

All of it is familiar to Satoru on a physical level—the paths, the buildings, the foliage—but what prickles his mind is attempting to piece together the myriad of strange feelings that arise as he is faced with more and more reminders of a past that he can’t fully recall. 

It’s as though the memories are trying to surface but can’t quite fuse into something tangible, something concrete, like when you feel a word forming just at the tip of your tongue but it never arrives. He can sense them deeply in his body, almost experience a brief image flashing like lightning through his mind before it disappears. Satoru’s frustration is palpable, and he reaches for your hand.

Icy-cold fingers nipped by winter intertwine with yours, tethering him in place as his fractured mind aches with the burden of obscurity. His physical affection is new to you, but you allow it—welcome it, even. As much as the earnest displays contrast with his previous tiptoeing around connection, it is yet another thing you can’t bear to turn down, not after everything that’s happened. 

You hope it isn’t simply guilt of all things compelling you to accommodate him, but wouldn’t it be equally bad to do it for selfish reasons? Could one misconstrue it as taking advantage, of feeding off his need to satisfy some part of you that had always wanted him?

The various implications make your head swim with conflict, so you force yourself to shut them down for the time being. Satoru is only holding your hand, nothing more, at least for the moment. There had of course been instances of his lips pecking against your own, wandering down to your neck, his hand settling on your waist as if to draw you closer… but you’d always managed to divert his attention in one way or another, severing the connection before either of you could become too engrossed in it. He never seemed overly perturbed to shift direction, but you couldn’t help but wonder just how long his patience might last, and if you’d be able to figure out what you even were to him before then.

Needless to say, nothing could have ever prepared you for something like this. What drives you forward more than anything is your contentment with the fact that he’s here walking the earth with you, as whole as he can be after having been stolen from the arms of death. And despite the abundance of challenges, part of you can’t help but feel special for being chosen to face them.

When your feet bring you near the school’s entrance, gates opening way for a path down the mountain, Satoru stops dead in his tracks, alert like an animal that’s suddenly caught a scent. His grip on your hand tightens, heart plummeting into his stomach as something takes hold of him, something he likely couldn’t put into words even if he had the ability to speak.

You turn to check over him with your gaze, concern etched upon your features at the immediate change of pace. “Satoru…?” you call softly, yearning for a chance to be able to peek into his mind. All you can do is feel the chill of his demeanor.

His name drifting upon your voice earns a split second of his attention, but he is, for once, captivated by something else.

Pierced gut. Blocked throat. Summer sun and the sounds of buzzing.

It’s a memory that lives in his body but not his conscious mind, an instinct telling him to heed the surroundings for a threat that once was. He relives it with a rapid heartbeat, knows it bears importance, but he can only recall shreds of information that don’t merge together to form a full picture. He simmers in mounting frustration.

Black hair. Sharp eyes. Boiling blood—the brink of death.

Satoru turns on a dime and faces a figure in the distance, on guard and brimming with a sort of defensiveness you’d never quite seen before, at least not coming from him. Muscles rigid, he squeezes your upper arm as if to warn you, to keep you close, his extraordinary senses absorbing information quicker than you can even pivot to see what it is he’s looking at.

From around the corner of a building emerges Megumi, clad in warm clothes and a mellow disposition. His distinctly unruly hair makes it easy to identify him even from where he appears down the path, hands in his pockets as he strolls towards you upon recognition. 

Satoru’s mind runs through calculations as the young student approaches, attempting to distinguish and fill gaps and create something he can take hold of as a semblance of fact.

Black hair. Sharp eyes. Something… different? 

Megumi’s cursed energy burns in a recognizable way, striking Satoru as peculiar as he instinctively studies it with the six eyes. But it makes sense to him—it’s familiar, even if he struggles to trust it in full. This is someone he hasn’t met since his awakening, but someone his eyes have certainly seen before.

You can sense the fear radiating off Satoru’s being and into yours, the presence of someone other than you agitating his already troubled state. You must act.

“Look, it’s Megumi,” you say softly with an encouraging smile, encasing his hand with your palm and hoping that your pleasant reaction takes the edge off. Satoru is reluctant to avert his gaze, but does so anyway, blue darting in your direction to witness the happiness written in your features. You appear to trust this person, and he trusts you, so despite the pounding in his chest, the sorcerer relaxes his grip.

You guide Satoru to take a few steps forward with you to meet Megumi as he draws nearer, a tired but welcoming smile turning your lips upward to greet him. It’s nice to see the boy alive and well in the aftermath of his own debacle—or at least as well as someone could possibly be. You wish there had been something more you could’ve done to help him recover, but it was known to many that you happened to have your hands full at the moment. Hopefully he will understand.

“Hey,” Megumi utters quietly, eyes scanning over your face and then his teacher’s, trying to briefly assess your individual states.

“Hi, Megumi,” you respond, appraising him yourself. He seems to be all in one piece, which you had been informed of, but had yet to see yourself. It’s nice to have visual confirmation. “How are you?”

“Fine,” he replies quickly, flatly, minimizing himself as usual. His voice is more sincere when inquiring about your wellbeing. “And you?”

You grin, finding a way to sum up your experience without overwhelming him. “Hanging in there,” you muse with a breathy chuckle. There’s no use in worrying him with all the details of Gojo’s current condition and how it has subsequently flipped your world upside down, but Megumi is shrewd, and you’re sure he can come to some sort of conclusion, especially when briefed by the others who have eyes on the situation.

Megumi awkwardly rubs at the back of his neck, skirting around vulnerability and concern as his next question arises. “Gojo-sensei… how are you doing?”

Satoru has been silent all the while, of course, but sorting through every detail while you and his former student exchange pleasantries. Neurons fire, rewiring frazzled connections, giving him a glimpse at how this boy is not the same as the one he bears a resemblance to.

Megumi isn’t sure what sort of response to expect; in fact, he feels silly for expecting one at all, posing a question that he’s fairly certain can’t be answered directly. But how else was he meant to conduct himself in such an interaction, to show that he cares? To speak as if Gojo weren’t even there would feel like even more of an insult.

You’re caught in the middle, watching Satoru’s face and seeing the gears turning in his head. “I think we’re all just… learning how to adjust to things, y’know?” you reply with a rather vacant smile, turning back to Megumi who understands your subtext with ease. Rather than speak for Satoru, you’ve made a blanket statement to provide just the slightest bit of feedback, and Megumi is well aware.

The student nods his head with a short hum of acknowledgment, doing his best to see his mentor in this new light—one he never thought would be possible, not when it came to someone who had always claimed to be so strong. But at least there is a light at all.

The wind tosses leaves around between the three of you, filling the silence with its quiet whispers. You wish there was more to be said. You wish you had a solid grasp of how well Satoru really was doing.

“I think Ieiri said she wanted to see you soon,” Megumi states, acting as a courier, trying to fill the space with words.

You nod. “Yeah, we’ve been in touch. We’re actually meant to meet up with her tomorrow.” 

Shoko, while expectedly rather removed, had been one of your primary contacts and supports thus far, apart from Ijichi who shouldered the burden of several essential tasks you hadn’t been able to complete on your own. You felt guilty for sending him out for groceries and back to your apartment for extra sets of clothes, but how else would you manage to make it by? Leaving Satoru alone or in the care of someone else wasn’t currently an option, and taking him outside the school grounds didn’t sound like an optimal idea either at the present moment. So you had to make do in the meantime, and you were truly grateful for the help, but you couldn’t help but hope that things would eventually fall into place. Maybe Shoko would have answers.

“That’s good,” Megumi replies with a sparkle of hope in his tone, then reluctantly adds, “and, uh… just let me know if I can do anything to help, okay?”

You respond to his gesture with a warm smile. “Thank you, Megumi. That’s very kind.” You don’t have immediate plans for taking the young man up on his offer, but you appreciate the sentiment regardless. He deserves to rest and seek peace, not fight any more battles for the sake of others.

A twinge of pink colors the apples of Megumi’s cheeks, and he recedes into the scarf wrapped around his neck, unused to accepting grace from others without feeling inclined to quarrel about it. He is at a loss for words, somewhat eager to make his escape before the vulnerability has the chance to further consume his dignity. You take that as something of a cue.

“Well, we—” you start, preparing to make a closing statement and depart, before being interrupted by a sudden movement to your left—Satoru, breaking free from his fixed state to perform a familiar gesture.

As if finally making a connection, he grins and mimics the Ten Shadows hand configuration for summoning the Divine Dogs, clapping his palms together and examining Megumi’s reaction with ardor. The student is startled out of his mild embarrassment, somewhat baffled by the sudden communication attempt and the implication that his mentor perhaps actually remembers who he is. It’s a pleasant surprise to you both, and a moment or two is required for it to sink in.

Your face lights up with glee, heart warmed by the simple action in a way that’s difficult to express. Megumi appears to be in a similar boat—taken aback, but ultimately stricken with joy.

A modest smile creeps upon Megumi’s lips as he softly mirrors the motion with his own hands, acknowledging Gojo’s revelation. “Yeah…” he says, voice faint but pleased. “Divine Dogs.”

Every brief glimpse into Satoru’s thoughts feels like a blessing, and this is certainly no exception. It’s refreshing to watch him have a moment of sincere connection with someone other than yourself, and it leaves you glowing with hope for the future as you bid Megumi farewell and make your way back home.

“Head back, Satoru.”

Water splashes into the bathtub as Satoru cranes his neck to peer up at the ceiling as per your request, a cup full of liquid streaming over his hair and carrying shampoo suds along with it.

After returning from your walk, you’d prepared something for dinner and eventually urged Satoru into the tub for a bath before bed—yet another activity that seemed to get a little easier every time you did it.

Figuring out how to get him to bathe had initially been quite the challenge, but you had managed to devise a method that had gotten the job done quite well thus far. He might’ve looked rather awkward sitting cramped in the shallow bath with a pair of swimming trunks on while you rinsed him with an old plastic cup you’d excavated from a cabinet, but it was the most effective way to get him clean and preserve both your dignities while doing it. Though you were the only one who seemed to be concerned with such things.

Satoru blinks when a few soapy droplets backslide into one of his eyes, causing him to squint, scrunch, and rub it with his fingers until the uncomfortable sensation eases. He looks at you, almost as if to say, “Hey! That burns!”

You chuckle and shake your head with a playful roll of your eyes. “That’s why you’re supposed to close your eyes, goober.”

He wants to submerge in a pout, but your playfulness rids him of the inclination. Satoru instead shifts his focus to the beauty of your frame perched upon the edge of the tub, a beacon of divinity as you cleanse him with care and devotion. He takes the notion to express an inkling of gratitude by leaning forward and placing a kiss against your lips, lukewarm water rippling around him as it gradually cools.

You’re somewhat stiff and unresponsive, the sudden gesture catching you by surprise as it usually does, but you don’t chastise him for it; in fact, it takes a certain level of concentration for you to avoid letting your thoughts linger on his current state: hair slicked back; flesh exposed and glistening with droplets of water; lips warm, wet, and eager for reciprocation…

Your mouth receives his but does not encourage him for more than a split second, pulling back gently from his advance until you can see Satoru shiver as the water chills his body. His eyes are glued to your face, waiting for a reaction as you prepare to make one more pass over his hair with the cup to see that he is fully rinsed, this time using your hand to shield his eyes from any backflow (and from your expression, which is surely indicative of your now rapid heartbeat).

The action is enough to distract him for the moment, but Satoru is still on edge, teeming with infatuation and need. He is unsatisfied with your response—or lack thereof—and is frustrated with his inability to express it, but your hands carefully wiping drops of water from his face act as a temporary soothing agent.

“Alright, let’s get dried off and ready for bed,” you say, standing to fetch his towel from the rack and bring it back to him before reaching down to trigger the tub to drain. “We’re going to talk to Shoko tomorrow.”

Satoru is less concerned with the meaning of your words than he is with how lovely you sound while saying them. He is once again caught in your spell, entranced by the need to be closer but settling for the scraps that you give him—for now.

You aren’t convinced of his comprehension of what you say, but nevertheless, you use the sweetened tone to deflect from the overwhelm of watching him stand and observe your every move as you help to dry his chiseled body. Satoru is tall and looming, scarred in the midriff, but compliant with your ministrations; however, his easygoing nature doesn’t keep your hands from wanting to shake against the towel that repeatedly caresses his physical beauty. You wish you could torch every thought in your mind, switch your brain off to preserve the strength and sanity that remains. 

You aren’t sure how long you’ll be able to remain steadfast and maintain this cycle of “temporaries” until something eventually changes. And what if it never does?

You suppose the only thing you can do for now is try your best and wait and see what the future holds. It certainly can’t be any worse than what you’ve already been through, especially now that Satoru is by your side once more. That is something you’ve realized you wouldn’t trade for anything.

[envy-of-the-apple]

the jjk naga au is getting to me……..i fear im terminally ill with thoughts about it (seriously, top of the food chain is such a yummy series (?) and im soso obsessed with how you've written gojo’s and geto’s characters, i reread your works everyday, i just can't get enough! ^^)

and i hope you don't mind if i share a Thought i've had :3 (i was going for an mc who used to draw/sketch/make art just for this specific scenario)

Imagine that your time on the island's barely dragging on. There's only so many berries to pick and so many times you can braid Suguru’s hair into elaborate styles. You're bored, stranded on an island with these two naga captors and their (adorable) hatchlings.

Well, there's always playing with the hatchlings, or tussling with Satoru (he calls it playtime but you're far from amused when you get a faceful of sand when he tugs your legs out from under you) but you miss your alone time. That little bubble of yours. Ah, privacy. 

Like that'd happen, but you can dream.

It's a stroke of chance when Nobara comes to you with her new haul of human paraphernalia, all too excitedly. A leather satchel. Some printed photos of nameless faces with scenic backgrounds. A waterlogged cell phone, practically unsalvageable. A journal with pages so thoroughly soaked, it falls apart in wet clumps.

“What are these?” You can hear her rummage through the bag, her nose wrinkling slightly. “Smells weird.” And so you look over to see her glaring down at a (relatively new) set of oil paints, sealed away in the bag. It's likely that she picked up on the scent of the strange chemicals.

Your eyes are bright with hope as you gently pull it out of her hold. Ready to answer her million and one questions.

…

After all this time that you've thought of what you'd wished to be able to do, you're at a loss. You've got a wall to the cave to yourself, a set of oil paints and a makeshift brush from the wood of this one particular tree off the side of the island. The only thing you're missing right now is inspiration.

A muse.

Satoru and Suguru are snoozing. Peaceful and laid in each other's arms. you can appreciate the quiet to yourself.

You hear familiar shrieks and playful yells of the hatchlings' name. 

The slight bit of quiet, then.

Nobara and Yuji are wrestling in the water, arguing over something in a mix of clicks and curse words. The sight is an endearing one, but moving too quick.

So you do some searching inward.

And you paint what comes to mind. What you've felt this whole time.

…

“What's that?” Ever the curious one, Nobara rests her head on your shoulder to peer over at your artwork in progress. She doesn't understand any of it—and she wouldn't. Your human upbringing is leagues different from hers.

“... Home.” You murmur, and Nobara’s glancing up at you in wonder because of the way your eyes glisten, the way your hand lingers over to paint in a fine detail.

“Well, it was my home.” You smile back at her, and she's at ease. You're not sad—no, she'd make it everybody's problem if you were—and then she makes sure to know everything about the scene you've drawn.

“What's that?” She gestures. Careful not to smudge the paint off, index outstretched to a figure she doesn't recognise.

“That's a lamp. When it gets dark, we switch it on so there's light. Like the torches in the cave, you see?”

“Torch? Hmm… and that?”

It seems that talking about your old home brings a warmth to your voice. Nobara beams up at you all giddy as you explain, eager to learn more. Eventually Yuji slinks over to listen as well, more so to the sound of your voice than what you're saying.

You sound happy, the pair can tell. Like when you taste a berry sweeter than the others, or when you tell them stories of your own to lull them to sleep. They like the chime of joy in your voice, and neither stops you from rambling about your once-home. 

It's a moment of peace. and warmth.

Yet it shatters for you when you feel a strong muscled tail coil around your waist, that familiar sense of having your space invaded taking over. A very intrigued Satoru looms over you, eyes glinting as he takes in the sight. You know that something's off—he seems more punishing with how tight he holds you.

“Home, huh?” Satoru repeats, and even the hatchlings can tell that's their cue to leave. Nobara offers you a lingering glance, almost pouty before she slithers away, following after her brother.

…

The next early morning, you find your home gone. 

In a sense, it's a bitter joke to be played on you. Not only were you never going to be back at your own place, even the expression of the idea was taken away from you. Just like your freedom was. your choice. The wall of the cave was bare, not a hint of the paint or the sentiment lingering behind. As if someone hit a total reset. Paints nowhere to be found, your canvas scrubbed clean.

Suguru stretches out from behind you, one of the first few to wake up, wrapping you in a lazy hug, before he follows your gaze. You'd call the soft laugh that rumbles in his chest cruel. Mocking your homesickness in that loving way only he could manage.

“Must've rained last night.” He comments at the absence of your artwork, and you wish you could pinpoint at least an inch or sarcasm in his words. You nod quietly, and he draws you in closer.

Cold lips brush against your temple. 

“The only home you need is with us.”

The sand under your feet is drier than your throat.

(oh my god im sorry if i rambled too much, i hope its not annoying ^^;;)

jaw dropping. amazing. wHAT????

I love how anon made Nobara's characterization so much sweeter and innocent. Though it's probably cuz she's younger in this fic...considering she can still stay on land. And satosugu not even wanting you to THINK of your old home is so accurate. I feel the more they learn your language, the more eager they'll be to display ownership.

Anyway thx anon for making the fourth part! from now on if anyone wants an addition to the naga series turn to the anons not me.

[kaliforniahigh]

casual - n.s.

Inspired by the song Casual by Chappell Roan. Noah is your friend but not your best friend if you know what I mean.

Warnings: angst, Noah is kind of an ass, sad thoughts, neither one of them know how to express themselves and deal with ~feelings~, curse words.

WC: 1.677

Part 2.

My friends call me a loser 'Cause I'm still hanging around I've heard so many rumors That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch

You were used to the title of "friend". You were friends with the band. You met Nick first, some years ago and he introduced you to everyone else, and after that, where everyone was, you weren't far behind.

You graduated with a degree in photography a couple of years ago, and when the chance of touring with the band and learn from Bryan was presented to you, you couldn't refuse. Who would?

You don't exactly remember when things changed so drastically. Granted, you couldn't call Noah your best friend, but you talked to him everyday, you joked around together and even had a secret sign whenever you were at a party, to tell the other one of you was feeling a little overwhelmed, and was going to step out for a bit.

Looking back at it now, you realized these moments only held significance to you. You thought back to the night everything changed. How he was talking to you so smoothly, how he looked you in the eye and payed attention to every word you were saying, how his hands touched your thighs and finally, how he asked you if you wanted to get out of there and maybe go up to his room.

You also remembered how he asked you to leave not even 15 minutes after you were done, how he laid there scrolling on his phone as you gathered your clothes and put them back on, saying goodbye but not sticking around to hear his response. Pain clawed at your chest, but you pushed it down.

So when it happened again at a house party they were throwing, you left before he had to tell you. You told yourself you could do this, you liked him as a friend and not as something more. Besides, you were having fun and he was good, and by the way he was the one seeking you out everytime, you figured he felt the same.

You just didn't consider the fact that you were totally not the only one he was having sex with. Because right now, you were sat at a table at a bar the boys saw not too far away from the venue they were playing at, deciding that a night of drinking was in the cards to commemorate the sucess of the tour so far. And he was at the bar chatting up a pretty blonde. You wanted to know if he was telling her the same things he told you that first time.

"Looks like someone is getting lucky tonight, huh?" Nick sat down next to you, nodding towards Noah and the pretty blonde.

"Looks like it", you acted nonchalant, if any of the boys knew about this thing going on between the two of you, none of them mentioned anything. "He does this often?", you asked him, fishing for information. You had the priviledge of this being the first tour you were embarking on from beggining to end, so no one really thought anything more of your questions.

"Only when we have a hotel room. Can't really do much on a tour bus, you know?", you hummed in agreement, Nick said he was getting more drinks and excused himself.

Later that night, Noah left early (with the pretty blonde) and you went to bed alone.

I thought you thought of me better Someone you couldn't lose

So you decided to do what you did best: distance yourself from him. Every night, you always showed the boys the pictures you'd taken on your camera. Now you told them you wanted to wait until you edited them. You just didn't want anyone to notice you started taking less and less photos of Noah.

Nights out also became less frequent, but everyone just thought the exhaustion of being on tour was finally catching up to you. You didn't bother giving them any other explanation. You had to remind yourself that you were here working, this was your job and you were not gonna let him distract you from that.

You were currently working on some photographs you took on the previous nights, the chatter on the tour bus filling the space. You saw a can of White Claw appear in your field of vision. You didn't have to look up to see that Noah was handing it to you.

You took it from his hand and thanked him, popping it open.

"Is everything good?", he questioned you. He was used to you asking him to sit down, sometimes he would even observe you working because he found it just so relaxing. This time, you barely aknowledged him, just taking the beverage from his hand and going back to work.

"Yeah, just concentrated, you know?", you said, not diverting your eyes from your screen. He thought it was weird, but if you didn't want to talk about it, he wasn't gonna push you. He observed you for the rest of the night.

You honestly didn't know what you expected. For him to take your hands in his and tell you how concerned he was about your sudden distance? For him to notice you were hurting from the decision you made yourself? How much you didn't want to accept that you were like the other girls he banged on a weekly basis? Deep down you knew there was no way for him to know those things if you didn't communicate with him. But he acted like he already forgot what happened, you didn't want to be the one hung up on something that is never going to evolve.

You said, "We're not together" So now when we kiss, I have anger issues

The guys played a festival today. The atmosphere was so different and exciting that it actually took your mind off of things. You met so many other professionals and exchanged so many experiences.

You were talking to Liam backstage as the boys were getting ready to go on stage. You noticed he used a camera different from yours and was excitedly asking him all kinds of information. You were interested in modifying your set up and try other things.

He showed you some pictures he took from earlier in the day and explained to you all the different settings and how he liked to adjust them. You were so distracted that you didn't notice Noah coming up behind you.

"We'll be up in 5 minutes", he told you, startling you quite a bit.

"Ok, I'll take my spot shortly", he nodded, but said nothing else, walking back to the band, the boys going over some last-minute details.

You found it weird, no one ever had to tell you what time you had to do your job, because you know. You decided to exhange numbers with Liam so you could continue this conversation later. You grabbed his phone and started to type your number.

"C'mon, Y/N", you heard Noah again, his behavior starting to piss you off. You signaled for him to wait.

"You're gonna be late, we're going on stage now", he wouldn't leave you alone. You handed Liam's phone back to him and bid him goodbye.

"What the hell are you on my ass about? I know what time I have to do my job, you don't have to remind me", you didn't wait for a response, grabbing your equipment and making your way to side stage.

The interaction put you in a sour mood for the rest of the day and everyone noticed. Your smiley and excited self was now gone, your face serious as you kept your conversation with other people short.

With the festival ending, you made your way to the tour bus, as you waited for the equipment to be loaded so everyone can hit the road again.

Noah was the first one to be back, as he took a seat in front of you. Both of you stayed silent until he decided to speak up.

"Seems like you and Liam were having a pretty good conversation", he noted, not looking at you, picking on a loose strand from his sweatpants.

"Yeah, he was pretty attentive", you responded, not knowing where he wanted to go with this conversation and why Liam was relevant.

"Oh, I bet he was", he let out a low chuckle.

"Yes, he was. Is there anything wrong about a professional conversation?", you crossed your arms in front of you, getting a little bit defensive.

"Professional conversation? Please, tell me you're not this dense", you were in disbelief, catching on to where this conversation was headed. "You honestly didn't notice that this guy is just trying to get in your pants?"

"Please, Noah. Don't compare every man to your shitty self", you scoffed, getting up to leave.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?", he got up after you and you could feel his presence on your back. You turned around to face him.

"Didn't you do just that to get in my pants not too long ago?", your eyes were fierce and held a fire to them.

"Oh, so that is what this is about?"

"I don't know, is it? You're the one who all of a sudden came here telling me who wants to get in my pants", you needed him to enlighten you, because you had sex twice and not even once he came looking for you to talk about it.

"I just thought you wouldn't be so easy", your opened your mouth in shock at his words. Surely this can't be the same person you knew.

"So now you're calling me a whore as well? You weren't complaining about how easy I was when I was sucking you dick"

"That is not what I said", he tried to defend himself.

"Well you might as well have", there was a pause in conversation, but you weren't planning on letting him say anything else. "I don't know what the fuck is wrong with you. Just because we fucked twice doesn't mean you have a say in who I can involve myself with. Besides, you're the one who takes girls to your room every week. So please, spare me hypocrisy"

You turned around and left for good now.

Part 2 maybe???

[riofann]

2. tempestuous

Authors Note: I am trying something new. I like this story line please give me your feedback. Only reposts and likes please don't steal my work. XOXO Rose

Tempestuous: characterized by strong and turbulent or conflicting emotion.

Previous Chapter

Friday August 2, 2019

It's not long before you see him again this time he pops up at your bar

“Long time no see” you joke as you place the burger and wings and fries in front of him 

“Have a seat” he motions with his head

You slide into the other side and keep a straight face 

“I need a favor” he speaks before taking a fry into his mouth 

“I'm out of favors”

He smirks “I think you got a few left”

“I don't” and you were being honest even with small talk you still didn't trust him as you did in the past 

“Well it's a small favor” 

“I'm at capacity”

He sighs “Y/N”

“Christopher” 

He looks at you contemplating what he wanted to say next you both knew there wasn't a way out of doing this favor, you were just prolonging the inevitable 

“What did Alejandro say to you?” 

“What?” the question shocked you.  You expected the usual ‘stash this (drugs) need this(money) hold this (weapon)’. He sighs and straightens up looking at you “The ball was almost a month ago” you comment 

He shrugs “Well I've been curious”

You roll your eyes “nothing”

“Did you meet with him?”

“You would know I'm sure you have spies around town”

“Y/N”

“Christopher” 

He sighs “Okay so what did he say to you at the party?”

“Nothing” you didn't know what the consequences were for revealing your conversation 

He remains silent waiting. You sigh “he said that he knew what you did to me” Rio shifts on his seat. “And because of that I learned the true nature of the Serraño family. That you will put money above everything else.” You shrug 

He doesn't say anything just looks at you

It makes you nervous so instead you grab the basket of fries and start nibbling on a fry

“What else?” 

“Nothing” 

“He didn't offer you anything?” 

You shake your head “Nope”  emphasizing the P

He knew you were lying, you knew he knew you were lying but you weren't going to tell him. While one statement could be  considered facts the other was inflammatory and you weren't going to confirm nor deny anything that would have you getting caught in the crossfire 

He nodded and in return you pushed his fries back to him “Anything else?” 

“Jalapeño ranch speciality of the house”

“Oh that's right, I'll have someone bring it over” 

Tuesday August 13, 2019 

You hear rumbling at your front door and yank it open with gun at hand ready to face whomever was at your door at 3:03AM  

“Rio” you call his name, annoyed and relieved at the same time

“Heyyy” he greets, he looks like he got into a bad fight, there’s blood all over his face and hands 

“You look like shit” you comment

He scoffs and walks past you “Come right in!” You say sarcastically before closing the door 

“I need more money” he says before plopping down on your couch

You roll your eyes, this was becoming a routine now “how much?” 

He adjusts holding his side “All you got”

“I got 5 million”

“More than enough” 

“Okayyy” You return with the bag and hand it to him. He grimaces, reaching for it “What happened?”  (why the fuck did you ask him that you scold yourself)

He stands up and strains holding onto his side “Nothing you need to worry about” 

“Well your blood is dripping on my clean couch and carpet” you forcefully move him off of it. He looks down and smirks

And your leaving a trail of blood he follows your hand “Let me see” you offer 

He shakes his head “Don't worry about it”

“You won't make it far if I don't” you look at the blood pooling by his feet. You don't give him time to respond, instead you make him sit on the dining table chair. 

You walk away and grab the first aid kit 

As soon as he sees it he stands up “I don't need that”

“You do plus what's an additional 30 minutes? it won't take long” you push him down by the shoulders  

He gives up huffing along the way “I'm sitting, I'm sitting” 

You work quick cleaning the cuts on his face before moving to his abdomen

“Whoever you made angry let's hope their dead, the wound is deep you need stitches, I did the best I could but  you'll have to see a doctor” 

He nods and stands up and walks past you this time not giving you the option to protest you watch silently as he walks out the door 

While you clean up the blood he left you berate yourself for even treating his wounds 

(You should have let him bleed to death bitch , what's wrong with you?!) 

Saturday August 31, 2019

Speak of the devil and he appears. 

“Hey Y/N, there's someone here to see you” Grace your manager tells you 

You were busy in your office manipulating the books when she walked in “Who is it?” “I don’t know some guy he was like ‘I would like to speak to your manager’ ” she mocks

You make a face “Is it the guy with a low cut fade (Rio)?” 

She shakes her head “Nope”

“Regular?” She shakes her head again “Nope never seen him before” 

“How does he look?” 

“Long greasy long hair, gaudy jewelry” 

Your stomach drops, only one person fits that description that you knew of and it had to be Alejandro “Thick accent?” 

“YES!” 

You smile at her “Thanks tell him I will be out shortly” “Will do boss!” 

“Thanks Gracie” 

You review the cameras to see who he came with, 2 other men. They sat on a table facing the front door. 

You make sure to make note of where you left off before you exit your office. 

“Hey, is the food for table 9 ready?” you ask your lead cook

He looks at the ticket “Uhhhh almost done boss!” he confirms 

“Okay let me know when it's done I will take it out” you say as 

“Got it!” 

You help out your staff with other tasks like preparing dessert or grabbing things from the fridge or rinsing dishes before they get into the dishwasher. 

“Alejandro, nice to see you again” you say as you put the food on the table “Ahhh there she is the lovely Y/N!” he gets up and gives you a hug and cheek kisses before sitting down 

“Wow such a greeting” you comment 

He grins at you “Show of good faith cariño” 

You smile back “I heard you would like to speak to me?” 

“Yes!” you look to the other men as they shuffle around on the table giving you space  “My apologies senorita, these are my associates Manuel and Carlos”

“Nice to meet you” you greet them “Senorita, please sit” he says pulling out your chair 

“Sure let me grab some water” You walk away to gather your nerves before returning “Yes how can I help you Alejandro?” 

“¿Sabes español?” “Poco” you motion a pinch with your fingers 

“Ah okay  ¿Has pensado en mi propuesta? (Have you thought about my proposition?)” 

“A little, but we haven’t really discussed after plus I’ve been busy” 

“Serraño Family always keeping you busy” he makes a whip noise as a joke

“Ha ha ha” You say sarcastically 

“Disculpe Senorita, I left my message on your front door” You nod “Yes the necklace I got it” he left it hanging on the handle and you could have shit yourself at that moment when you saw it.

“It's yours by the way” he mentions

“Ohhh thank you, how kind?” you didn’t want to keep anything as a gift, they were never just gifts anyway. 

He takes a bite of his food “So what do you think?” 

“I don’t know, what would my cut be?” He laughs “right to the point” “De Verdad! I’m sure thats what youre thinking about too, how much I can do for you” you counter “Hmmm” He looks to the ceiling pretending to think before looking back at you “how much are the Serraño family giving you? Let me guess these guys are cheap” he turns to face his men “¿Que piensan? (What do you think?)” 

“Hmm 10%” Carlos responds 

“Viente por ciento (20%)”

Alejandro turns to you “¿Es verdad?” 

You take a sip of water “I can’t tell you that. What are you going to offer?” 

“Because I know these guys, in good faith I will offer 30 and up!” 

“What is ‘and up’ ?” 

He shrugs “the more you do the more you earn” he states matter of factly  

“And what do you expect me to....” Your eyes dart towards the door where you see Rio and Mick walk in. He pushes his hoodie back and looks around the restaurant before he spots you, there's no wave, no smile straight face, Mick also shares the same blank expression. 

You look down at your watch to get the time, he was here earlier than normal. His usual time was after the sun sets.  No he wasn’t due to show up today, and no you didn’t have anything to discuss, so the only option is that he either had a spy in your staff or he had someone constantly watching the bar. It would make sense his money is in the bar itself. You take a deep breath in “What do you expect from me?” 

“Los hombres están aquí (the men are here)” Carlos comments, causing Alejandro and Manuel to turn around and see Rio. Alejandro picks up his drink along with the rest and toast to Rio who didn’t even so much acknowledge just blank face staring at you. 

Alejandro turns to face you “Boyfriend is here” You roll your eyes “He is not my boyfriend, what do you expect from me?” you wanted him to get to the point, your anxiety was already reaching its peak and you can’t stop bouncing your leg. 

He chuckles “Your loyalty senorita and your partnership that is all,” he places a hand on his heart “you will be part of the Guerrero family and we take care of each other, you know what that means right?” 

“War?” you guess 

He smiles “Close pero we are a family of warriors” 

“Oh” you giggle nervously “Can I think about it?” 

He scoffs “What is there to think about senorita?” he turns to look at Rio then back at you “¿Estás preocupado por tu novio? (you’re worried about your boyfriend?)” You glare at him “he is not my boyfriend!” He finishes his meal and you all sit silently as the other men finish “We will take care of the Serraño family, they are no match for the Guerrero family” You didn’t trust him, something about his offer didn’t seem genuine, you knew how this worked there’s no way you could just switch sides without there being a blood bath.

You refrain from answering and just smile at him “Well I have given you a lot to think about cariño I will be in touch” With that he pays way over the amount that's required for the bill and he and his men get up to leave

You get up to follow them out the door “I must speak to your boyfriend” he sings as he turns to look at you 

“Alejandro” you warn not knowing what could come from this “No cariño I must pay my respects to the representative of the Serraño family” he walks over to Rio head held high chest pumped out “Senor Cristobal! Que tal mi amigo?! (how are you my friend?!)” he asks boisterous you’re sure the entire restaurant heard. You look around and see eyes looking at you. He grabs Rio’s hands and shakes vigorously almost cartoonishly it almost makes you laugh how he’s essentially shaking Rio’s body. 

Rio nods shaking his hand “Alejandro” “We were just paying Senorita Y/N a visit you know top bar in Detroit 3 years in a row now, we had to give it a try” he smiles at Rio then at you 

You smile nervously standing to the side, Rio glances at you before returning his attention to Alejandro 

“Hasta luego amigo” Rio nods and watches as he leaves. You stand by the booth watching the door you want to make sure they leave but the glare Rio is giving you makes you stay put. 

Grace walks up to you distracting you “Oh Rio! You’re here so nice to see you again, Hi Mick!” Grace greets

“Whats up? Gracie” he smiles at Grace it's scary how quick he can mask his mood 

“The usual?” she asks “Actually I want the house special” “Ooh doing something different today, you guys are early today huh Y/N” He chuckles “We got things to do”

“Busy men! Mick?” “Usual” he responds 

She takes the order on the tablet “Coming right up! Y/N Need anything get you some fries?” 

“No” you give her a smile even though you stood tense “I’m good” 

“Great I’ll get the drinks then I’ll be back” 

When she walks away Mick exists the booth for you to slide in “I'm not sitting inside” Rio glares at you “take it or leave it or we can both stand here looking like idiots. Plus I can’t outrun a bullet so there’s no point” 

He looks around quickly “Lower your voice” he scolds he looks at Mick and motions for him to slide back in

You sit silently as he is busy held up with his phone “Thought you said you haven’t met with Alejandro” he comments without looking at you You take a sip of water “I haven’t” 

“Hmmm” he hums “so what is he doing here Y/N?” You shrug “Your guess is as good as mine, it was a shock to me too” 

He nods and looks around “what did he say to you?” “Why don’t you ask him?” you argue He looks you in the eye “I’m not in the mood for games Y/N” You sigh “Neither am I since the Guerrero and Serraño family know so much about each other. Why not just talk to each other?” He takes a deep breath and sits up straight “Y/N” 

“Rio” 

Mick pulls out his gun, you roll your eyes “I wish you would actually pull the trigger because its losing its meaning” 

“Tell me what he said to you” He commands

“He offered me 30% and up”

“And?” “And I said I wanted to think about it” He chuckles smugly “You know what that means for you?” You shake your head “no and I haven’t thought about it I literally was just doing the same thing I am doing for you, talking to you till you leave” you smile sarcastically 

He smirks at that comment “30% sounds good yea?” He asks Mick

Mick chuckles 

“What's funny?” He goes back to texting “Looked into his portfolio? What he can do? What he does?” 

“No, but I didn’t look into yours either yet here we are” Grace shows up with the food “Okaayyy I have the house special the Big Island Burger with Plantain fries for Rio,  for Mick wings and fries, jalapeno house ranch and your beers! Need anything else?” she asks

He smiles at her “No we’re good” 

“Okay let me know if you need anything!” 

“Thanks Gracie” 

You sit silently as both Mick and Rio eat knowing if you get up to leave you were asking for more problems 

He clears his throat taking a sip of beer “His 30% equates to 5% of your current cut” he reveals

“And how do you know that?” You think Rio is lying to you to persuade you to not leave He takes a bite of the burger “I know everything that affects my business, so if you wanna go to him and do the same amount of work for less than a quarter of what you’re getting from me be my guest” You roll your eyes “I would like to not be in the middle of this” He smirks at you “Seems like we are beyond that aren’t we darling” You sigh “I didn’t ask for this Rio” “No but you also weren’t honest with me either” “I have been honest, this is the first time I have seen him after the ball!” 

He sits up straight “Why aint you tell me he stopped by today? Why did I have to come to see it for myself?” “Why do you have spies watching me?” you counter “Why aint you tell me about the necklace?” You shift uncomfortably “Exactly, see for this thing to work I  gotta trust you” 

“Like you understand what trust means” you say cynically 

He chuckles “I do and you better pick up an encyclopedia and refresh your memory soon darling” 

You huff and pick up your phone to text your mother back there was no winning either way “is there anything else you want?” you ask 

He shakes his head “Nah maybe another beer and napkins” That was your cue to leave he was done with you. 

Authors Note: Please leave your feedback, again please don't steal. Only repost, like, or give credit.

XOXO Rose

Taglist:

@katymae12344, @yinmaggiorebass

[honeipie]

CHICK-FLICKS!

eijiro kirishima x fem!reader

synopsis: eijiro was given a tip on a way into your heart

“what are you watching?”

you looked behind the couch to see eijiro leaning himself against it. the sound of uncomfortable groaning came from the television. you grabbed the remote to pause the movie.

"bridesmaids!.. have you never seen it?"

kirishima raised both eyebrows still looking at the screen.

"i think i would've remembered a girl taking a massive dump in the sink"

turning to the television you tilted your head.

"she is taking a massive dump isn't she?" you went to find the remote again "sorry about that. sometimes i forget what i'm watching can be weird since i've seen it so many times. i'll watch it in my room"

he placed a hand over yours to stop you from turning it off.

"whoa! i never said to turn it off. i'm invested now" he hopped over the couch settling in next to you "so what is braidsmaids and what does it have to do with shitting in a sink?"

"well when you put it like that it sounds horrible" you gave him an innocent look making him smile "but it's about this one girl who's friend is getting married and she's doing her best to help plan it. but then this other girl swoops in and acts like she's that girl's best friend so it just makes the original best friends plans look all stupid and messed up so-" you stopped taking notice to the look on his face. the lights were on, but nobody was home "you don't understand a single thing i'm saying to you right now do you?" he rubbed the back of his neck a sheepish smile forming on his lips.

"nah, i'm sorry. i got lost after that one girl.. who was the girl.. who isn't her best friend?"

"don't hurt yourself" taking the remote you rewinded the movie back to the beginning.

"you don't have to do that! i probably would've gotten it eventually!"

you shook your head "nope! you are going to experience everything this amazing movie has to offer" so you settled back into the couch making sure to place your bowl of treats between you.

"oh! i forgot to warn you. the first scene is a little.. much"

but kirishima wasn't watching the screen all too much. he had his crimson eyes subtly gazing at you every chance that he got. the boy had a major crush on you, but wasn't sure how to get an in. every time he tried to start up a conversation with you, he wouldn't know what to say, which would end up with mina coming over to save his ass. that was until mina gave him some pointers.

"listen dude. you can't keep freezing up around her like you’re kaminari after he short circuits" she imitated the boy making him laugh until he realized she was insulting him.

"hey! it's not my fault! every time she looks at me i just want to give her a kiss. a really long kiss"

"ooookay lover boy. let me help you out. i'll list out things that she likes then you can say what you can connect with her on" mina got up and started walking back and forth in her room. she started listing everything that you loved "those cute farming games, crochet, watching chick-flicks.."

kirishima snorted as she said the last one.

"what is a chick-flick?"

"it's like a movie that is made quote unquote 'for women' but everybody should watch them cause they're freaking amazing"

he thought for a good moment. watching movies seemed to be the easiest (and quickest) thing to learn about.

"okay, i'll talk to her about these flicks"

"even better" mina sat next to him with a smile "every friday night when the class goes to those weekly karaoke nights, she stays home and watches them in the common room. she calls it her 'recharging time'"

kirishima nodded with a smile.

"looks like i'm clearing my plans for friday"

He went to say something but stopped hearing the disgruntled moans coming from the screen.

"y/n! what the hell are we watching?"

"that's not fair! i told you that the beginning was a lot!"

the two of you made light conversation throughout the movie. him asking questions, and you asking if he liked it so far. by the end, the two of you were in a fit of giggles as the credits rolled.

"see? i told you that it was a good movie!" you moved to face him fully.

"ok, that was pretty funny. the real question is though, are all chickflicks this good?"

"uhh yeah!" you squinted your eyes at him curiously before putting your hand out "what about this. you come back for the next couple of fridays and i'll show you just how good they can be"

kirishima looked down at your hand with a wide grin. he took it in his giving it a shake “deal” you both let the handshake linger for a couple seconds longer before hearing the door.

letting go of his hand you smiled seeing iida and mina come through the door “hey! we decided to come home early. everything okay?” she asked raising her eyebrows subtly at kiri. he gave her a smile and nodded over at the television.

“everything’s fine. we’re just watchin’ a movie”

taglist! @sagejin @aejabba

let me know if you want to be added!

[iamthat-iam]

Real vs Unreal 🤯

Jade has been in the LOA community for over a year now. It opened her up to many different possibilities, such as shifting to the MCU (Marvel Universe) where she is a superhero with super strength, super speed, and the ability to fly.

Everyday when she wakes up, and before she goes to bed, she does an intense visualization of this reality. Each time she does it, her "current reality" seems to disappear, until she opens her eyes. She knows that she's so close yet so far from shifting there! She decides to go on Tumblr and ask for advice.

She comes across some intriguing ND posts that say "You must collapse the duality between physical vs imagination and real vs unreal" and "All experiences are the same, no matter the label. Seeing a car in a 'daydream' is no different than seeing one 'in real life.'"

This seems to be different than what she learned from LOA, with the existence of a 3D/4D and 'fulfilling your imagination until it shows up in the physical.' She sends a blogger a question out of curiosity.

"Hi! I know that this is not a shifting blog, but I wanted clarification on a few things. For over a year now, I've been trying to shift to the Marvel Universe, where I'm a superhero with powers. Everyday I do a visualization where I am experiencing these things. I just saw your post that says all experiences are the same, and how seeing something in imagination is the same as real life. Does this mean the whole time I was visualizing myself in that reality, I was already experiencing that? It was real? I also want to know how imagination and physical are the same. Thank you." She inquired.

The blogger responds with, "Yes you already experienced it. The reason why there's no physical vs imagination is because your awareness, your true nature, is present during all appearances that come and go. We've just labelled certain appearances real or not real based on certain ideas we picked up through life. For example, many people think that experiences are only real when you are awake and you seem to be living through the 5 senses. They were also taught that things like fairies, dragons, supernatural abilities aren't real, so when they hear stories about people experiencing those things, it's a huge shock for them. But in reality, nothing is objectively real or unreal, all experiences are possible for awareness. You (as awareness, THAT, or " ") are the ONLY thing that is truly real. As the ultimate authority, only you can decide what is "true" for you or not."

Jade decides to take some time to really think about what this blogger said. Everything they said is a complete 180 from what Jade thought she knew about life and how reality works. So that means this entire time, she was already in the MCU? And the MCU is apparently just as real as what Jade calls "real life?" That is truly an interesting concept to ponder! The one thing that has Jade stumped, however, is the fact that she opens her eyes and continues to see her old life. She goes back to the blogger to ask about this.

"That's really interesting how I already experienced being in the MCU! So this technically means I can tell someone I "shifted" there, and they couldn't accuse me of lying? Also, I'm a bit confused on why whenever I open my eyes after visualizing, I still see my old life," She questioned the blogger.

"To answer your first question, no, they can't accuse you of 'lying' because that was a valid experience for you. The idea that you have to experience "shifting symptoms" or enter the void state to "experience another world" is limiting, and creates a barrier between you and whatever you want to experience. This is no disrespect to that community, if they want to "shift" or "enter the void state" to experience things, that is totally up to them. But ND is about not labelling experiences, and not treating them as if they are separate from you. All experiences are yours. It's natural for you, as an omnipotent being, to experience whatever you want instantly. As for why your "old life" continues to appear, there is no old life. There's no experience A turning into experience B, it's all nothingness. You said you visualized being in the MCU, have you noticed that the "old life" seems to disappear and you're totally focused on the visualization? That's because the "old life" never was in the first place!" The blogger explained.

That response made everything click for Jade. She finally feels free enough to experience the MCU universe or any other universe whenever she wants! "Thank you so much! This was very helpful and empowering!" She thanked the blogger.

And so Jade became the superhero she always wanted to be.

[reve-writes]

—dense; kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 2,2k words. ʚ you're a bit clueless as to why the dirtyhands do the things he does, like call you schatje and pay you to steal something when he clearly doesn't need to. ʚ fluff. ʚ a/n maybe ooc kaz im sorry. more at the end!

Ketterdam is a marvel from afar, a pretty little flower offering promises of its nectar—new life, new opportunities, debauchery—only to catch you in its trap and swallow you whole. All the way up on the clock tower, roughly centralised in the port city, the Barrel is nothing more than bright lights emanating from bar signs and glittering roofs.

The bell rings, reveberating to signal the change of the hour. It's time to work, finally.

Your boots thump as you make your way down the spiraling concrete staircase, paying attention not to step on the chunks flaking off of the edge. Whoever was responsible for building this was clearly cutting cost, the concrete is about as fragile as clay.

A painting. It is an annoying job to do on your own, but your contractor offered a lot of Kruge for it—perhaps too much, but if Mr. Kikkert is willing to scrape his pockets for it, then you're more than happy to accept. It is more Kruge than you would ever need for a while, so you won't have to scrounge for scraps in this Ghezen-forsaken town. Moreover, it's been a while since your last job and you're frankly not doing too well.

You step lightly over the rooftops, hopping from building-to-building with sure, steady steps. You have done this for most of your lives, to avoid being stomped into the vile muck at the bottom of the Barrel, you learned to hide near the skies.

Where the painting is being kept isn't far from the Canal, just on the rows of overpriced apartments for rent. You were told that it was housed on the third floor of the corner building. Everything is going well. Your journey is uninterrupted and the stadwatch aren't on alert.

Until you spot him.

The familiar curve of his black hat. The high collar of his coat. The shining leather of his gloves.

Brekker.

You strut towards him as if you are neighbours crossing paths on your evening walks. When in truth, his Crow Club is on the other side of the town and you never come to this area without reason. You call his name sweetly. His head whips around immediately, finding you in the dwindling foot traffic of the street.

He says your name in a warning tone, suspicious of your being here.

“What? Can't I come and see an old friend?”

Brekker scoffs. “I don't know. Can you, schatje?”

You almost turn around and leave when you hear the term of endearment. He knows it gets under your skin—it always does. Your heart skips a beat or two and your train of thoughts gets interrupted whenever he calls you that. He means it as a jeering nudge and your head is wholly aware of that. Your heart, though. What a fickle little thing.

“A bit of a walk from the club, isn't it?” you say, falling into step next to him as he turns the corner towards the apartment building. “I assume you must be up to something.”

“Ah, but I'm always up to something.”

“I can't say I disagree,” you snort. “You don't happen to have a job around the area, do you?”

He halts, his cane knocking against the stone pathing. He turns to look at you and your elbows brush against each other. “Do you need anything? I have important matters to attend to.”

You bring a hand to your chest exaggeratedly, feigning a frown. “How callous. Call me schatje and throw me aside. Is this how you treat everyone, Kaz?”

“Only you, mijn schatje.”

You roll your eyes, unsure how to behave. Huffing, you say, “Stop calling me that.”

“I was under the impression that you liked the nickname.”

Oh, you do.

“I'll be going now. I've something to do. Stay off my job,” you warn. “You still owe me literal crown jewels from last time.”

Kaz's neutral expression shifts into fond nostalgia as he recalls the incident you're referring to. The crown jewels in question were under dispute by a pair of soon-to-be divorcees. One of them hired the Crows' help. The other called on you. One thing led to another and the item ended up in Kaz's hands and you went home empty-handed.

“I won that fair and square,” Kaz retorts. “Your current job wouldn't involve a certain painting, would it?”

Judging by his smug thin smile, you know that he knows.

“Tell me it isn't what you're here for.” You sigh exasperatedly. “Stay off of it, Brekker. I can't afford to lose another job.”

You think to be threatening, bluff your way out and tell him you'll tear down his Crow Club if he gets in your way, but you doubt it will work against the Dirtyhands. After all, you're one person and he has the whole Dregs behind him.

He looks at you with a raised eyebrow for a moment and for that terrible moment, you think that he may be there for the same reason you are, but he shakes his head lightly. “Fortunately, schatje, no. Stop looking as if you're going to murder me in my sleep.”

An involuntary smile blooms. “I wouldn't dream of it, Kaz.”

“Go on, then,” he says. “Be careful.”

You bite the insides of your cheeks to keep from smiling. “You too.”

With that, you part ways with Dirtyhands, entering the building. Your acquisition of the painting goes smoothly and the deal is closed swiftly a few hours later. It's too easy. You know it is. You're missing something.

Miss something, you did.

You push open the door to the Crow Club carelessly. The loud chatter mixed with atmospheric radio surges to meet you as you push your way past sweat-slicked bodies and drunken patrons. Your eyes dart back-and-forth, trying to spot the familiar curve of his black hat or the shiny glow of the head of his cane.

Jesper spots you from one of the open gambling tables.

“If it isn't my favourite thief,” he says, inclining his glass towards you. “Fancy a game?”

It isn't until you stop by his table that he sees the downward slope of your frown and the sharp glare you're giving. He instinctively sits up straighter, taking his shoes off of the corner of the table.

“Where's Brekker?” You ask, to-the-point, without indulging in your usual chit-chat whenever you visit.

The other three patrons on the table freeze—sensing the tension on your shoulders, too. They look between you and jesper, both confused and intrigued to know more. What is Ketterdam if it doesn't have rumours and secrets whispered about?

Jesper's brow furrow. “Are you okay? What's going on?”

To Jesper's knowledge, you and Kaz are on friendly terms, despite the frequent bickering. Hell, he assumes you're more-than-friendly, with the way Kaz gives you a nickname—an endearment, to be specific. Is it possible that you're going through a lover's spat?

“Brekker, Jesper. Where is he?”

A familiar rasp cuts through the rowdiness. “Here.”

Your head whirls around and you shoot an accusatory stare at the source of the voice. You stomp your boots as you make your way towards him. As you pass by him, you tug on the sleeves of his coat.

“We need to talk.”

“Hold on, schatje,” he says, still trailing after you. His cane knocks against the hardwood of the floor. “About what?”

You make your way up the stairs, to the second floor and swing the door to his office open as if it belongs to you. He has an eyebrow raised when he enters after you, closing the door behind him. He leans back against it, waiting for you to speak whatever it is that's on your mind.

“Kikkert,” you snarl. “You paid him to pay me.”

“That's quite a conclusion. How did you come to it?” His voice is level, not betraying whether or not you've spoken the truth.

You're pacing in front of him. “He says, and I quote, ‘If you're so close to Brekker, why doesn't he ask you himself to do this?'”

His eyes furrow and he runs a hand through his combed hair. He sighs, holding a hand up in a you-caught-me gesture. “Kikkert clearly has no idea what discretion means.”

You glare at him. “Do you think this is funny?”

He seems taken aback. “I don't see why this is a big deal, schatje. It's a job. You're paid. I get the painting. What's wrong with it?”

“Why are you doing this, then? Pay me for something you clearly are able to do yourself? Hell, whose painting was it? Was it yours? Did you pay me to steal from you?”

He doesn't reply, but the way he shifts his gaze away from you let's you know. It's as clear as a verbal admission.

“It was yours. That's why you were there. From your safehouse, wasn't it?” You stare at him in disbelief. “Is this amusing to you? I'm sorry if I don't quite see it as such.”

“Schatje—”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

You can't wrap your head around Kaz Brekker's thinking process. He pays someone to pay you to steal a painting he already owns. What's his plan in the long run? To embarrass you? Hurt your pride? Is this some sort of ploy to rope you to be indebted to him?

He sighes. “You were struggling. I only wanted to help.”

“Dirtyhands doesn't help people. You don't run gangs the way you do charities,” you retort.

Is that all you see him as? The demjin? The one who's willing to stain his hands for the right price? Is there no other version of him in your eyes?

“You're forgetting the man behind the monster here,” he says softly.

“Am I?” You approach him, leaving a little over two steps in-between the two of you. “Who exactly is the man behind Dirtyhands then?”

He pushes himself off of the door, taking one step forward. The thump of his cane practically echoes in the room. The hustle bustle of the Crow Club is nothing more than a muffled sound. There's a sudden tension in the air—the same one that hangs over you whenever he calls you his schatje, but this one is heavier due to your lack of light-hearted banter to parry.

“Do you really not know?” he asks, as if the question is staring at you in the face. As if it's the most obvious thing in all of Kerch. His stare is heavy, dark irises acting like magnets that pull you in. He scoffs, “You really are dense.”

“Well, enlighten me, Brekker! None of this is making a lot of sense to me.” You let out a frustrated huff of breath. Your hands move wildly to stress your points. “You know what? Whatever it is, I don't want to know. Just — quit doing it. I'll never take another job from Kikkert. I'll stay away from your damned club and all your friends. I'll stay away from you. I'm a capable enough thief without your pity, Brekker. I don't need it. You can shove it up your—”

His gloved hand wraps around your wrist as it's flailing in the air. Your speech immediately comes to a halt and your eyes widen.

“You are impossible,” he says.

You snort. “And you aren't?”

“At the moment, no,” he retorts.

His stare is intense. It isn't until then that you realise you've taken a step forward during your rant, decreasing the perfectly amicable distance and turning it into a heart-thundering one.

“It wasn't pity,” he says. “You're capable, I have never doubted that, but even the most capable ones struggle sometimes. My intention is to help. Trust me on this. I know you're too prideful to accept any, so I paid Kikkert.”

“But why? Why bother?”

“Why?” He blinks, sighing loudly before continuing. “Why? Have you ever stopped and thought, for a moment, that I've been calling you schatje. Do you think that was out of pity?”

You bite the insides of your cheek and shake your head. “It was something else.”

“Has it ever crossed your mind that it's because —ghezen forbid— I may actually harbour fondness for you?”

You blink once, twice. Kaz thinks he much prefers breaking into the ice court than having this conversation right now. His hand trembles when he brings them to brush your cheekbone lightly. He lets out a relieved sigh when you don't pull back. Your hand wraps over his gloved one, the leather cold on your skin. You lean into the touch.

“I thought it was one-sided,” you say finally. “I'm quite fond of you, too, you know.”

“You do a horrible job of showing it.”

“Says you,” you argue. “Just—don't do it again. Let me handle my own problems, Kaz. I'll let you know if I need your help.”

He hums in agreement. “You'll let me know.”

“I will.”

The two of you jump apart abruptly when there's a loud knock.

“Boss?” Jesper's voice sounds muffled through the door. “Everything okay? I hope ___ hasn't murdered you yet.”

“I haven't,” you answer, half-chuckling. Turning to look at Kaz, you say, “It's funny how he doesn't assume you'll murder me instead.”

Kaz shrugs. “He knows I can't.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Can't or won't?”

“Both,” he answers. “Can we not talk about murdering each other after what just happened?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks. What just happened is you practically professing your little (well, maybe not-so-little) crush on him.

“So, is Kaz okay?” Jesper shouts again.

“Fine,” Kaz answers. “You can go back to your table.”

[ ]

i wanted to write something cute. schatje is taken from google and inspired from a kaz fic i read that used 'schatz' as a nickname. the plot is slightly ehhh? because it didn't really end the way i intended it to and i didn't proofread (when have i ever?). i was hoping to turn it into a two or three part series, but this is what we've ended up with & im quite happy with it. thank you for reading!