#the rest seemed interesting but not something i'd be jumping at the chance to try

[pegglefan69]

one of bpal's yule fragrances for this year is based around the concept of 'what if a little porcelain clown doll had a doll of its very own' & I can't tell you how much I'm obsessed with the idea

[broooooo]

Nock nock nock

____

It was like any other day...

I am alex, a guy who doesn't exactly have a firm grip on things, I live mostly locked up in my apartment, and outside of shopping, I don't do much

I was resting on my couch when I heard it..

*Nock nock nock*

Someone... Something was at my door

I've heard it countless times prior and always ignored it.

I learnt from others that to get a nock at the door is a chance to change everything.

Those drones.. that have taken over the population, I've seen it happen to friends and family, though they very much enjoyed the transformation and do technically retain their normal selves, I still found it strange , yet fascinating.

Some friends I've known used to wish to be like others, sexually active and hot, when they got the chance , they jumped at the chance and in the end I'd never seen them happier, stroking their large latex cladded cocks... A leaky fountain of pre and cum..

I admit I've been curious..

I used to feel extremely turned on to sexual things once, but it's died for me, I can't feel much or anything, I can't stay hard either, it's quite saddening.

If I opened that door ... Hmmmm

*I contemplated for what felt like forever before going with my gut and the adrenaline.

And opened the door...

My eyes met the black rubber figure

I'd have seen him before but not this close up

He is drone Aaron, my neighbour. It's quite jarring too remember his past, he was so sad and lonely, but now. .. *my eyes sparkled with envy*

I stood up straight

"h - hello.."

Aaron's black head slowly unravels to reveal his normal face, he bends forward and smiles, with one hand on his rubber cock

I stare at his deep blue eyes as I feel my own cock try to stir within my pants.

"well well.. someone's interested. Aren't they? Wink" Aaron says softly

I- well .... *Blushes* I don't think I've seen a drone up close before...

Aaron chuckles and smiles " I know how you feel, I felt the same way once..now's your chance to look even closer.. would you like that?"

I- well... Idk... I don't know what it feels like to be aroused anymore... *Sad face*

Aaron looks down and puts his hand on my shoulder

"don't worry.. I got your back, why don't we chat inside?"

Oh .. yes. Sure

I invite him in and close my door.

Aaron sits on my couch, I go over to sit down next to him..

*awkward silence*

Aaron speaks up

"do you like what you see?"

You mean dronehood right?

Welll .. it does seem.. fun

*awkward laughing*

And you're.. um.. *pointing to Aaron's leaking rubber clad dick*

Looks fun too? Yeah...

Aaron chuckles * nervous are we? I understand... Here. You can play with it if you want* smiles

'im shocked and surprised but excited?'

Aaron comes closer next to me and guides me hand onto his dick, it's veiny, soft and rock hard, slick from the leaking.... It sends shivers through me as I feel the sensation of latex and pre on my hands.

*how does that feel? Aaron smiles*

I- um... Idk ... It feels... Amazing... Ehehe chuckles

Aaron also laughs back... "I can tell. Your dick seems to be reacting well."

I look down to my surprise.. my dick is hardening? But.. but now..

It's normal.. don't worry*Aaron squeezes my bulge sending further waves through me. I'm almost zoning out at how relaxed and happy I am.

"Tell me .. are you ready?"

I turn to Aaron and nod..

Yeah... I want this.. I haven't been able to feel like this in so long... I want it . I need it.. I want to feel like this all the time ..

Please. Convert me.. 'I release my dick from my pants and it becomes fully hard'

Aaron smiles... *That's all I needed to hear..*

___

The next few hours? Was a blur, from the moment I said yes. Aaron led me to my bed and started to caress me, breathe and speak softly.. as he lubed up my dick and my body with his pre and working on my dick, rubbing and edging,

My mind was horny. I was horny. For the first time in forever... I was so happy..

Aaron slid on some leather boots , heavy and thick on my feet, as he worked on spreading latex on me.

It was slow and steady, warm and comfy. The latex hugged my muscled body and slowly took over my mind... My dick was harder than rock and throbbing from arousal.

Aaron then slides his drone dick into my ass . Converting me from within sending the latex nanites to create a latex body.. a new drone to the hive

I was in a state of hypnotic bliss , ready to cum, ready to obey, Aaron was fucking me , and I was being converted.

Then it happened. Aaron came , cummed a giant load after load of latex drone cum into my ass, just as I began to cum

I came for the first time in forever. My mind went along with it. I was still Me, but I was obedient and horny, just like I wanted...

Idk how long I came for.. it felt like forever had passed.

According to Aaron my dick was Cumming and leaking cum for hours. A record to say the least. He was impressed. When I came too, I slowly woke up, with a new body. Latex, and muscled , my feet were heavy leather boots and I had straps and belts hugging my shiny body

Aaron spoke up* enjoyed your self buddy? Or should I say.. drone 8976?*

I stared at my hard leaking rubber dick..

Yes..... It was amazing... Thank you... So much *tears falling* I must cum and obey.. I am drone 8976 , online and ready for action.

Aaron smiles* hehe, I hope we can play together again one day. it was fun.. now .. let's go shall we?* He extends his hand and picks me up

We leave my apartment on a new adventure, to nock at the doors of someone who may be in need ..

I was a drone... I couldn't be happier

Will you open the door if you hear it?

______

Hehe hi guys

Long time no story!

Ik it's been awhile and I really wanted to write something, I hope you guys like this one. Idk how I feel about it.. but I think it will do!

AAAAAAA

[neewtmas]

ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀᴜɴᴛɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴀʙʙᴇʏ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ // ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴠɪ

pairing: george karim x fem!reader

wordcount: 3.6k

summary: a case that takes longer than expected, an unrequited crush, and the hardest decision you ever had to make

masterlist series masterlist

taglist: @maraschinomerry @sstrawberriel @poisonquinzell @holymotherfxrkingshirtballs @the-high-lady-of-3am-crackposts @oblivious-idiot @bobbys-not-that-small @myownpainintheass @taygrls @marinalor @y0urm0m12 @fearlessmoony @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @quack-quack-snacks @ahead-fullofdreams @aphroqite (if you wanna be added or removed, just tell me)

For a while, you continued like this - Emily and George reading and taking notes, you fighting your way through the text in front of you without much success.

"Have you found anything interesting?"

You jumped at the question that broke the silence so suddenly, realising that Emily was talking to you and not George. You glanced over at her before you quickly averted your eyes again.

"Not really", you mumbled, and you could feel your skin prickle from the embarrassment of having her call you out like that. In front of George, of all people.

You jumped again as you felt her hand coming to rest on your arm.

"Are you okay? You look a little pale."

You tensed. Was she making fun of you? But her smile and the concern in her eyes seemed genuine.

"I'm fine", you said, but the slight shaking in your voice proved otherwise.

She got up, her chair scraping loudly over the floor.

"Come with me, I'll get you something to drink."

You looked over to George, who nodded encouragingly before he returned his focus to his book.

A glass of water did sound good, and it would be a chance to get out of the small corner of the library that had started to feel suffocating.

You followed Emily back to her desk in the front, where she rummaged through a little cabinet under the table and pulled out a bottle of water and a cup.

She handed you the filled cup and turned around to open the window, letting in some fresh air.

"How is it, being an agent?", she asked while you sipped on your water.

"It's … I don't know." You stared down into your cup, thinking about all the near-death experiences you had in your time as an agent. "It can be scary, and dangerous. But the people you work with make it better."

She chuckled. "That's true, coworkers can make or break it. Honestly, I don't know how you do it, I could never handle working with my boyfriend every single day. I'd be scared we'd get sick of each other eventually."

She must have noticed your furrowed brows and confused expression.

"George?", she added. "Isn't he your boyfriend?"

You could tell immediately that your face was in the process of taking on the colour of her bright red sweater.

"George? No! Why would you think that?", you croaked out, trying to keep your composure. What was she on about?

Emily laughed brightly. "I just thought I picked up on some vibes between you two." Her eyes sparkled as she leaned closer to you, and for a moment she reminded you of Lucy. "But you know, never say never."

You choked on your sip of water and had to put the cup down before you spilt it all over the floor. She winked at you and made her way back into the other room, while you had to take a few seconds to recuperate.

You smoothed down your shirt and cleared your throat before you followed her. Had you interpreted it all wrong? Just a few minutes ago you could have sworn she was flirting with George. And who could blame her? You'd do the same if he hadn't made it clear to you several times that he wasn't interested.

As pathetic as it was, you felt relieved that this gorgeous girl didn't seem to be interested in your best friend. But when you turned the corner to where you'd been reading, the sight of them sitting next to each other still made your stomach turn. After all, just because she wasn't interested in him, didn't mean he wasn't interested in her.

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It was mid-afternoon when you left to catch the train back. You had been somewhat successful and George had a few pages of notes - that truthfully, you didn't contribute much to.

Your head was a jumbled mess, and you felt an intense need to be alone for a while, just to sort out your thoughts. Too much had happened in the last few days, and at this point, you didn't know what to think anymore.

No words were exchanged between you and George, not on the walk to the train, not during the train ride. When you walked back through the fields to the manor, you let yourself fall back. George didn't seem to mind, he was clutching his notes and you knew his mind was probably far away, thinking over everything you had found out so far.

The sun warmed your skin, and you closed your eyes, soaking it in for a moment. The thoughts in your head were quieting down as you filled your lungs with fresh air, and you tried your best to push them into a far corner of your mind. As soon as you were back in London, you would have a chance to think everything over properly. Maybe you had to go through with it, even though your heart hurt just thinking about it.

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Just a few hours later, you were walking up the driveway. The manor towered at its end, backlit by the light from the setting sun which made it look far more threatening than in the afternoon. The sound of your rapier hilts clinging against the metal of the belts slung over your torsos accompanied the crunch of the gravel under your boots. Other than that, an eery silence had taken over the scenery. The few birds that you had heard chirping during the day were quiet now, and the slight breeze that had ruffled the bushes flanking the walkway had died down completely.

You felt only marginally better prepared than yesterday. Over some sandwiches that Lucy and Lockwood had brought, you had talked through your findings of the day. It seemed as if everyone Lucy and Lockwood had talked to in their - rather mediocre - getup as tourists had roughly the same opinions - the Blackwoods were a family that highly valued their privacy and lived secluded in their manor, with no real association to anyone else. There were rumours that the son's attendance at the boarding school wasn't entirely of his own accord, and talks about how Blackwood's daughter - Genevieve - was rejecting any and all advances and wasn't planning on getting married anytime soon. Not that there was anything wrong with that, you thought, but it seemed to be a big topic of discussion in these circles. As for George and you, your findings largely matched those of Lockwood and Lucy. There hadn't been much that hadn't already been available in the archives in London, and so you stepped into this case more or less still clueless about what the origin of the haunting could be.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You were greeted by the butler at the front door.

"Miss Blackwood is waiting for you", was all he said, and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Lockwood looking at him weirdly. Like he had just realised something.

You didn't get to ponder too long over that though, as the butler led you into the dining room where you had had dinner just last evening. Genevieve Blackwood stood with her back to you but turned around as you entered.

Her face lit up with a smile, that for some reason had your stomach churning. Something about her…

She walked over to you, heels loud on the hardwood floor beneath her long black dress.

"I'm so glad you're finally here", she said brightly, then furrowed her brows. "Unfortunately, my father is still in a state that doesn't allow him to speak to you. We have decided to still go through with it to not take up more of your precious time."

Lockwood adjusted his rapier. "We appreciate -"

The sound of a door opening behind you interrupted him. You turned around, and in the doorframe stood an elderly woman in a bathrobe. Her hands were shaking slightly, and she looked a little dazed.

"Genevieve, darling", she said, voice quiet and breathy. "Where is he? You promised me -"

"Not now", Genevieve hissed, and you felt a shiver run down your back at the venom in her voice. "Can't you see that now is not the time?" She looked over to the butler, who gave her a curt nod and grabbed the woman by the arm. He led her out of the room, ignoring her protest, and for a moment, the sound of the door falling shut behind them was the only sound in the room.

You exchanged a look with George, who stood next to you. Genevieve Blackwood cleared her throat. She looked paler than before. "You must excuse her. She doesn't know what is going on around her. Now, the sun is setting, and we better get this over with quickly."

She led you through more corridors until she reached a large double door at the end of a hallway, that was ornately decorated with flowers and vines carved into the wood, along with iron moulded to fit some of the flowers.

"Behind that door is the wing of the house that is affected by the haunting. This door keeps it from spreading to the rest of the house, which is why we are still living here. I trust you to handle it from here."

She nodded and then walked away swiftly. Lockwood looked after her before he turned to you. "Are you ready?"

With affirmation from all of you, he slowly pushed down the handle. The door opened smoothly and swung open into the dark hallway that lay beyond. It was dimly lit from the last daylight coming through the windows that lined the wall. It didn't look too different from the other hallways you had walked through so far, with the exception that in this one, big oil paintings hung on the wall, showing portraits of the family members.

Lockwood was the first to enter. You followed him and when you crossed over the threshold, it was like stepping outside on a cold winter day. You pulled the sleeves of your jumper down so that they covered part of your hands, then reached for your flashlight.

Without much talking, you dispersed. Lucy moved down the hallway, the end of which lay in complete darkness. She kept her hands on the wall, and her eyes closed, full focus on any supernatural echoes and sounds. Lockwood trailed behind her, keeping an eye on her, ready to step in if anything were to go wrong. George had immediately started taking the temperature at different points of the hallway and scribbled down the readings in his small, tattered notebook.

You on the other hand had turned on your flashlight, moving the beam of light slowly over the walls. The paintings were shiny in the light, the shadows cast by the slight movements of your hand making them look almost alive. You stepped closer to inspect the little plaque that was hammered into the ornate wooden frame. Agatha Blackwood was engraved there, along with a birth year that indicated the woman on the portrait to be in her mid-seventies now. You pointed the flashlight back up and took a closer look at her face.

"That's Lord Blackwood's sister. The woman we saw earlier."

You almost dropped your flashlight as George's voice suddenly sounded so close to your ear. He had appeared behind you, looking over your shoulder at the painting.

"Don't sneak up on me like that in the dark", you hissed, trying to gather yourself.

He chuckled. "Maybe you just need to pay more attention to your surroundings. I could have been a ghost after all."

You huffed. "Pull something like that again and you might end up as one."

You made your way over to the next painting and missed the way his lips curled into a fond smile before he followed you.

You came to a halt in front of a portrait of a man that you identified as Lord Blackwood before you even read the name plaque. He looked exactly how you imagined him, but there was something about him that you didn't like. Maybe his piercing blue eyes, that felt like they were staring right into your soul. You turned to George. "Do you -" Your voice got stuck in your throat as you saw his expression. He was staring up at the portrait with wide, glossy eyes, lips slightly parted. "George?" No reaction. You nudged him once, twice, this time harder. With a gasp, he stumbled a little, breaking eye contact with the painting.

"George?" He looked at you, the far-away look he had just seconds ago was gone.

"Yeah?"

"Are you… okay?"

He adjusted his glasses. "Yes. I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

You hesitated. You didn't want to bring up what his reaction had reminded you of, because you knew he didn't like to talk about it. But that look in his eyes… you felt a wave of dread wash over you at the thought of the boneglass and its effects, especially on George. It hadn't been that long, and none of you knew exactly how much it had really affected him.

"No reason", you finally said, deciding to just keep an eye out for George. Not like that wasn't what you were doing at all times anyway.

You stepped closer, trying to ignore the way the hairs on your arm stood up. You aimed the flashlight at the lower part of the painting.

The Lord was a few years older than his sister, you noted.

Without thinking about it, almost involuntarily, you reached out for the frame but immediately flinched away again as your fingers brushed over it. It was ice cold.

"George", you said quietly. He had gone off to take more temperature readings. Within seconds, he was by your side again. "What is it?"

"What's the temperature here?"

He looked down at the thermometer and pressed a few buttons.

"6°C", he said slowly. "That's much colder than anywhere else." He reached out for the frame just like you did, and just like you he pulled his hand away quickly.

"That's… interesting." You could practically see him thinking.

"Check the other paintings, I'll get Lockwood and Lucy. We might be onto something here."

You nodded and he hurried down the hallway. It was completely dark now, and with a last look at Lord Blackwood, you made your way back to Agatha Blackwood's portrait. A shiver ran down your spine, and if you didn't know any better, you could have sworn you felt his eyes burn into the back of your head as you walked away.

Every portrait you checked was the same - cold, but not overly so. So when you gathered back in front of Lord Blackwood, you all knew that this was it.

"Why his portrait though?" Lucy asked. She had her hand firmly pressed against it and her eyes closed.

"I'm getting nothing from it. It's just really cold."

Lockwood aimed his flashlight up.

"I might have an idea", he slowly said. "But I'm not sure yet. What's behind this wall?"

George pointed over to a door a few feet down the corridor.

"Let's try this door."

It opened easily and led to a study. A large desk stood facing the door, and tall shelves filled to the brim with books were lining the walls.

The glow of your flashlights had a hard time penetrating the darkness that somehow felt heavier than outside. Dust particles danced in the air, and Lockwood, who was last, secured the door - your way out, should things go south. Then he went to get the two bags of equipment you had brought but had left standing at the double door, while you and Lucy started to thoroughly check the room.

It was immediately clear that you were in the right place. The temperature had dropped noticeably, so much so that you were slightly shivering now, despite your warm sweater. You were feeling along the wall right next to the door, at whose other side lay the hallway. The textured wallpaper felt rough under your fingertips, and there was a constant, static noise that felt far away and unnervingly close at the same time. You moved slowly, mentally preparing for any flashback or rush of emotion that might be waiting for you after the next step, but nothing happened. The wall just felt progressively older, and you knew you must be getting closer to the spot where the portrait was attached to the other side of the wall.

Then suddenly, you had reached the corner. Or rather, a heavy, velvet curtain that was draped over what should be the wall. With a little difficulty, you pulled it aside to reveal another wooden door. Without thinking, you pushed down the handle. The door creaked open, and you raised your flashlight, the other hand on the hilt of your rapier as you kicked it open further. It seemed to be an extension of the study, with the same towering bookshelves, and another two desks, slightly smaller than the one in the room behind your back.

You stepped into the room, flashlight raised and your other hand resting on the hilt of your rapier. In the warm glow of the flashlight, the room looked almost inviting - but it didn't feel like it. Immediately upon entering, you could feel your skin prickling. The static noise had slowly increased in volume, and you could feel the beginning of a slight headache forming behind your temples.

You hesitated. Maybe you shouldn't be in here alone. Just at that moment, Lockwood called for you. You took a few tentative steps backwards until you felt safe to turn around. Lucy was in the opposite corner, still feeling around the books, while George was laying out an iron circle.

"What's behind that door, (name)?", Lockwood asked.

"Two desks and more books. It seems like it's just a connection between those two rooms."

Lockwood thought for a moment.

"Alright, then we'll split up. Lucy and I will stay here. George and (name), you take the other room. Put a chair and some iron at the door so that it won't close."

You tried to keep a neutral expression, but on the inside, you were screaming. Of course, you'd split up. Of course, Lockwood had you and George working together. You wondered if Lucy realised just how protective he was over her. How he'd never leave her alone in the presence of a ghost if he didn't have to. You're chest tightened. It must be nice to have someone care about you that much.

George grabbed the second bag, and the two of you moved over into the other room. With two flashlights, the space was considerably better-lit, and you took a while to slowly walk around and take everything in.

Your flashlight wandered over a row of books, and you tilted your head to read the titles. "What do you think the source is?", you asked eventually, just to break the silence. Surely, George already had several different theories, and it was unusual that he hadn't yet shared them with you.

He took a while to reply, and when he did his voice sounded shaky.

"I'm not sure."

You furrowed your brows and turned around. He stood with his back to you in front of one of the bookshelves.

"George?"

You expected him to turn to you, but he didn't. He didn't move at all, the hand holding his flashlight hanging limply by his side.

Anxiety was twisting your insides as you rushed over to him, hand on his shoulder to turn him around. He blinked and scrunched his eyes together as you shone the light in his face.

"George, what is going on?", you asked, hating the way your worry for him was so clearly audible in your voice.

He put his hand on yours and pushed down the flashlight.

"Stop that, you're gonna make me blinder than I already am. I told you, I'm fine. Just feeling a little tired, that's all."

You did not believe him.

"Something is wrong with you!"

He laughed dryly. "There are a lot of things wrong with me. And maybe I'm feeling a little out of it today, who cares?"

You wanted to shake him, scream in his face that you cared, you cared so much, and that he was putting himself in danger because something was clearly not right. Maybe the aftereffects of the boneglass were still lingering, and he just didn't want to admit that.

You took a step back from him, feeling defeated.

"I'm gonna go set up an iron circle."

While you went to gather the chains, George began pulling open the drawers in the cabinet under one of the desks. You didn't get very far with opening the bag and kneeled to take a closer look at the zipper, that seemed to be stuck. Behind you, you heard paper rustling and George muttering under his breath.

"(name)?" George's voice was quiet, maybe a little unsure.

"Mhm?" You leaned further down, moving the zipper back and forth, trying to get it loose while you waited for him to continue.

He mumbled something you didn't quite catch, and you were about to ask him to speak up, but his next words left you frozen in place.

"I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you, just the way I always dreamed about and wished for. I love you more than you could ever know."

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thank you for reading :)

[your-divine-ribs]

Ice Cold Part 16

Words: 2.7k

Ice Cold Masterlist Main Masterlist

Reckless, thrill-seeking and often self-destructive behaviour. Impulsivity. An inability or unwillingness to form meaningful relationships. Obsessive and compulsive traits. Deep emotional scars. The words jumped off the screen at me.

I wasn't reading Van's psych profile now, these were observations from the therapy sessions that I'd undergone throughout my teenage years. I hadn't even realised that my employers had amassed all of this in-depth and very personal information on me, but it was all there in black and white. Everything. And he'd seen it, I was sure of it. He'd seen me for what I really was. Try as I might to act like I had control of my life he'd seen the broken parts of me that I tried so hard to bury. The parts that I tried to gloss over by throwing myself into my work and letting it consume me. But it still didn't answer the most important question. The one which burned brightly in me like a beacon that I couldn't ignore.

Why? Why me?

I sighed, closing the files down, the photo that I'd been studying of Van beforehand coming up on the screen. Even like this something in his eyes captivated me. I thought about Jen's comment on looking at this very same photo.

"Those eyes... it's like looking at the devil himself..."

But beneath that cold and calculating exterior I knew that there was something. There just had to be. Was there a tiny spark of warmth that simmered, muted but there nevertheless? One that had never been given the chance to grow and flourish...

Even as the thoughts came to me, I realised how dangerous it was to be thinking of Van as anything other than the violent and emotionless criminal that he was.

"Why are you still here Lyla? You need to get some rest." Paul's voice came from behind me, making me jump.

I quickly jabbed the keyboard to move between windows, the realisation that I'd been staring at the same photo for so long that I was surprised the image hadn't burnt itself on to the screen.

"I won't be much longer Paul, I'm just finishing up."

"Don't forget the curfew," he said as he turned to leave, and I watched him go, immediately flicking back to the image that I'd been studying before.

My therapy observations were right, my fascination had turned into an obsession, a compulsion. There almost didn't seem like any point in fighting it anymore.

"Well hello there Lyla..."

This time I didn't have chance to switch the screens. I could see the outline of a figure standing behind me in the reflection on the monitor, my heart instantly sinking. It was Jason.

"What are you doing sneaking around?" I said sharply, resigned to the fact that I'd been caught and ready for a fight.

Jason laughed. "Me? Sneaking? I don't think I'm the sneaky one around here do you?"

I turned to face him then, swivelling around in my chair. "Stop speaking in riddles Jason. Just spit it out."

That smug grin that I'd got so used to seeing was plastered all over his face, sickeningly so. I watched as his eyes flicked to the screen behind me and back again.

"Working hard then are you? Delving into the complex mind of a killer?" Sarcasm dripped from his words.

I didn't say anything, just looked back at him with a neutral expression. I knew what was coming and my mind whirred with the certainty of it, trying in vain to come up with a plausible line of defence.

"You're not the only one working late you know," he told me. "I have been too. I've been reading through the reports from Paris, the witness accounts and statements. Your statement in particular makes for very interesting reading."

I swallowed deeply. "Look, I know it seems almost unbelievable but that's how it happened. Van let his guard down for a second and I took my chance."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "It's funny that. He always seems to let his guard down around you. I wonder why that is..."

"Maybe it's not him. Maybe it's just me being a good agent, doing my job properly and not running around making up these bloody ridiculous stories instead of concentrating on the case." 

My words became stronger as I spoke, picking up momentum. I couldn't falter in front of Jason. He was like a scavenger, and if he saw my weakness he wouldn't hesitate to pounce. I turned back to the screen, hastily closing down the files and shutting the computer down. I went to rise up out of my seat but Jason suddenly shot forward, placing a hand on either armrest, looming over me.

"Ridiculous stories huh? I'll tell you what's ridiculous. Your fucking statement! How do you do it, huh? How do you manage to pull the wool over Paul's eyes? Are you fucking him too?"

I pushed myself back in my seat, recoiling from him. "You make me sick!"

He laughed, edging even closer. "Well you like that don't you? The sicker the better. Trust me when I tell you that I'm going to find out exactly what the fuck is going on with you and McCann. And when I do you'd better watch out."

I could feel myself start to crumble inside but I couldn't let it happen. I couldn't let Jason get the upper hand. I purposefully lunged forward, pushing against Jason's arms with force, pushing myself up out of my seat as I did so. Jason moved back but only a short distance. I was still trapped between him and the desk.

I pulled myself up to my full height which was still some way to reaching Jason's but I tried to project the anger that I felt. "Maybe you should watch out. How do you think Paul would react if he knew how much you'd been harassing me? You'd be out of here so fast your feet wouldn't even touch the ground."

Jason's eyes bulged and I could see the anger rising in him like a red mist. "Don't you dare fucking threaten me!"

I was on the attack now. As intimidating as Jason tried to be I could read him. He knew as well as I did that if it came down to it and it was my word against his with Paul that I'd win every time. And that's all it really was. His word. He had no palpable evidence that there was anything going on between me and Van. It was all suspicion... for now. Of course if things carried on escalating it was only a matter of time until I got caught. But I couldn't and wouldn't let that happen.

"Well let's see then shall we? Paul's probably still outside in the car park now. I could call him back..." I held up my phone, the challenge hanging in the air, my heart thudding at the prospect of Jason calling my bluff and letting me go ahead.

It didn't affect me lying to Jason, but lying to Paul was a completely different matter. Each time I steered him away from the shameful truth with some far-fetched story the deceit twisted in me like a knife. And when he looked on me fondly with that sense of pride it just stung all the more.

Jason hesitated, mulling it over, then he backed away reluctantly with a scowl. "It's only a matter of time... you'll slip up. And I'll be here waiting when you do. Then we'll see what Paul has to say."

"You know what? I've had it with you. What is your fucking problem? You've had it in for me since day one. All this shit with Van... you're just clutching at straws. Trying to make life difficult for me. You just can't bear to see a woman doing well for herself can you?"

As I spoke I started snatching up my belongings off the desk and stuffing them into my handbag, then I backed away towards the door. To my dismay, Jason started following me, so I quickly turned and flung the door open, hurrying towards the reception area.

Jason's heavy footsteps pounded down the corridor after me and his voice boomed out angrily. "You think you're so high and mighty don't you? You think you're so much better than the rest of us just because Paul thinks you can do no wrong? I heard about your promotion. That job was supposed to be mine. I've worked so hard on this case and you just breeze in and snatch it right from under my nose."

I didn't stop, I just ignored Jason, bursting through the door into the brightly lit reception area, thankful to see Bruce the security guard at his usual post behind the desk. I considered going up to him and striking up a conversation to get away from Jason but I just wanted to get out, I couldn't stand another moment in that place. I glanced up at the walls, saw the huge display featuring all the commendation awards for exemplary work by agents. My own awards hung there amongst them, the most recent one for my conduct on the Paris assignment, taunting me like the shameful lie that it was.

"Don't you dare ignore me!" Jason growled from somewhere behind.

"Leave me alone!" I called over my shoulder, pushing through the exit door and turning down the short walkway that led to the underground car park.

Still he pursued me. "I've not fucking finished talking to you, you ignorant bitch!"

I picked up the pace, spurred on by the venom in his voice, rummaging in my handbag for my car keys as I rushed to where my car was parked.

"Lyla!" Jason's voice rang off the walls and low ceiling of the underground car park, and I had no choice but to come to a stop as I finally reached my car.

I quickly pressed the key fob to unlock the door but Jason sprang forward, pressing a hand against the car door as I reached for the handle.

"Don't turn your back on me when I'm speaking to you!" He raged.

"There's nothing more to say!" I protested, yanking on the door handle in vain. "Paul gave me this promotion because he thinks I'm the best person for the job. It's got nothing to do with favouritism."

I'd started to panic now, the realisation that me and Jason were alone in the dimly lit car park filling me with unease. Whereas beforehand I could easily brush his insults aside, things had now shifted. It wasn't just bad blood between the two of us anymore. It was all out war.

"You're not fit to do this job!" He roared. "I can't wait for Paul to see you for what you really are. Because he will... I'll make sure of it. You're nothing but McCann's dirty little whore!"

I winced at his words as they pierced me like a barrage of bullets, hot tears springing to my eyes. "Fuck off Jason!"

I placed my hands on his chest, pushing him as hard as I could and he faltered backwards but quickly righted himself, grabbing me by the shoulders and pinning me against the side of my car, his face leering at me just inches away. "One of these days you're gonna get exactly what you deserve..."

The sound of a car door slamming nearby was loud and harsh, and enough to make Jason straighten up and move away with the realisation that we were no longer alone in the car park. I took the chance to lunge for my door handle again, this time managing to wrench it open. I was just about to slip into the car when the deafening sound of the screech of tyres on tarmac cut through the air and Jason and I both looked towards the sound.

At the end of the row of cars another car sat idling, a sleek black Mercedes with the headlights turned on full. I squinted against the glare, shielding my eyes, but it was no use. It was far too bright to make out the driver's identity. Nonetheless a chill shot through me, there was just something menacing about the way the car didn't move... just sat there... waiting.

"Who the fuck's that?" Jason grumbled, stepping away from my car.

My heart was pounding now, mind straying to the possibility that maybe Van was bold enough, reckless enough to turn up at my workplace. It should have been a ridiculous notion, but I wasn't so sure anymore.

I didn't wait, hurriedly slipping into the car and slamming the door, ignoring Jason rapping on the window as I hastily started up the ignition and put my car into gear. He glared at me furiously as I drove away, but I wasn't looking at him. I had my eyes trained on the rear-view mirror as the Mercedes started to slowly move forward behind me.

I drove slowly until I was at the exit of the car park, leaving it purposefully late to pull out into the road, earning an angry blare from a car horn as I cut up a poor unsuspecting driver. The Mercedes hung back, not able to follow me, and thankfully the traffic was heavy for the late hour. I slammed my foot down on the accelerator, putting as much distance between myself and the other car as possible, breathing a sigh of relief as I saw the car being forced to stop at a red traffic light. I quickly turned down a side road, taking a huge detour through the city until I was satisfied that I wasn't being followed, before eventually making for my apartment.

For once I was actually relieved to see the Range Rover belonging to George who'd been assigned to watch my apartment block as I turned into my road. Since the heated phone conversation with Van a few days previously I'd been on edge. His statement that he could get to me anytime or anywhere had rattled me. Every tall figure that I passed on the street set my pulse racing, every pair of blue eyes that I spotted in a crowd made my knees weak. He monopolised my thoughts in the day and stalked my dreams at night.

I pulled into my usual parking spot, turning off the ignition and reaching over for my handbag from the passenger seat when movement reflected in the rearview mirror caught my eye. I looked up just in time to see a large black car cruising slowly past the end of my road. Unease prickled hairs on the back of my neck.  My instinct was to jump out of the car and race for my apartment block, maybe call in my suspicions that I was being followed but I didn't.

I looked up to see George wave and nod a greeting to me from his car whilst he was on the phone. He was probably checking in to say that I'd arrived home safe and sound, but the thought of going back to my apartment didn't make me feel safe now. In fact I felt the exact opposite.

A scenario played in my head of Van disarming and attacking George in the dead of night, leaving him maimed and bleeding out in his car before stealthily breaking into my apartment. He'd said as much. The thought of more blood on my already soiled hands just made me feel sick to my stomach.

Before I could think things through I was already starting up my car and driving swiftly down the road, heading again for the city centre. Van knew where I lived and he knew where I worked, none of these places were safe anymore. I'd drive around for a while to make sure that I wasn't being tailed, then check into a hotel for the night. If I was going to get through this then I had to think smart, be strong, and try and stay one step ahead. Just because Van said he didn't want to kill me the threat in his words were clear. And although his promise to make me 'his' set off a dark kind of yearning in me, I knew that I couldn't submit to him. The risk was too great. I could lose everything...

[no-psi-nan]

I probably didn't phrase that the best way cuz it was a spur-of-the-moment post lol so that's my bad! I'm looking for conversations, basically anything that can build a friendship.

The distinction I'm making here is that "verbal" means "using words". Saiki talks verbally with his family and the Psychickers all the time, he just doesn't use his mouth for it.

And usually when people mean "nonverbal" in real life, it's unintentional or perhaps a choice made to conserve spoons, but Saiki specifically chooses not to speak in order to create distance from other people.

If Saiki had used nonverbal gestures to participate in a conversation, then I'd count that (ex. if he'd participated in the fairy tale conversation by pointing at a book or openly agreeing with someone's take).

However, iirc he only uses nonverbal communication for practical things like agreeing or disagreeing with plans being made.

But just agreeing to cake or trying to stop really inconvenient vacation plans doesn't lead to the kind of friendship/relationship-building conversation I was looking for.

At least with conveying Makoto's message Teruhashi had a chance to learn something about Saiki based on how he said it, y'know? And the Canada project would've been a good opportunity for them to work together and get to know each other - except they were apparently just reading books in the library and we don't know if they ever actually did the rest of the project. If they'd comforted each other or worked together directly on the island, that could've been an opportunity. 🤔 But it's heavily implied that they didn't.

And yeah, Saiki doesn't talk with most of the cast that we see but he does hang out way more with Kaido and Nendo, for example, and we know he's hanging out off-screen on the regular with them. He's probably not participating in conversations with them either tbh but maybe he occasionally agrees or disagrees openly with them. 🤷🏾 It's implied that we pretty much see all of his interactions with Teruhashi though, so it's unlikely any relationship-building is happening off-screen.

The Psychickers get to have verbal communication with him, and even though a lot of it is practical conversation, they're quickly picking up what Saiki is actually like and Saiki ends up learning stuff from them that he experiments with (misattribution of arousal, trying to use Aiura's powers for the volcano, etc). It's a give and take that deepens their relationship, to where Saiki allows Toritsuka to drape himself all over him and eventually trusts him to take care of his friend group and to do the right thing, and to where he learns to work seamlessly with Aiura and even agrees to hang out privately with her, and to where he's openly petty to Akechi 😂

I'm just wondering like... Did Teruhashi ever get the chance to get to know Saiki even the slightest bit before throwing away her career to follow him to Medicare College lol? Have they really only ever had two conversations, one about her brother and one about Saiki jumping out of the window to avoid her??

It just seems so bizarre that Teruhashi was set up as a really interesting character but then kinda locked into an obsession with a guy she doesn't know anything about and has barely spoken to even though she's been forcing him into situations for literally 6 years in a row... And then she's just left like that. She never questions it, she never reaches a tipping point with her dedication to perfection, she never wonders if maybe her life shouldn't revolve around men lol.

BUT tbh I only really care about 3.5 Saiki characters so I could have missed a conversation, which is why I opened it up to the crowd to see if there was anything deeper that I missed.

Does that make sense at all? Wrote half of this while on the phone and I'm off to dinner lol

[mariacallous]

Im just so excited and happy for you finding a job that sounds like it will actually serve your interests/needs!!! If u feel comfortable id love to hear more i've been steadily promoting up the ladder at my current place but now im capped out and trying to find something new, but im just so comfortable here. BUT you've moved across the country multiple times now and it just seems so daunting to me its really inspiring to see you grow and do all that tbh

Honestly this job is pretty much what I've been dying to do and wanting for years and it's partly why I'm so excited and happy that it's finally happening and here.

I'm public sector again, which is where I've kinda always wanted to be and where I think it's important to have people who want to make changes and reforms and improve them and also think about and work with the people affected by the systems and departments involved.

My job specifically is to help make the division I work for better - figuring out areas for improvement, addressing bottlenecks and inefficiencies (but in a "how can we make this process work better and proceed quicker while still complying with the requirements, what upgrades can we make to our tech systems so that we and our partners and vendors are not using multiple different ones and having to transfer or re-enter information, how can we ensure our staff are deployed and focusing where it makes the most sense and not having to spend their time on other things" way, not a "how do we cut positions and outsource functions" way), and try to take on more longer-term tasks and projects, and act as a support for the rest of the division without taking on or duplicating the functions and tasks of other divisions and teams.

It's the kind of work and job that I've done in bits and pieces pretty much in all of my jobs, but now it's my entire focus, and not just me shoehorning in a quick project or attempt while also balancing a caseload or other jobs, or having to try to push and advocate on my own or with limited support.

And I never really intended to end up here, tbh - my goal or "plan" when I was younger (so much younger than today) was to go to college and graduate and work for the state department or live and work in DC, but between the great recession which hit right around my junior year of high school, and my family's financial situation and other factors, I kind of plodded along in community college (and doing a ton of nonprofit and local government shit which didn't pay anything but experience and knowledge) until I made my first go of a 4 year school and moved out of state, then had to move back home and do community college again (and nonprofit and local government stuff again) until I made the second go of a 4 year and graduated with my bachelors, and then realized I'd basically stuck myself in the midwest and in MN/ND (where I ended up spending almost a decade, altogether) until covid and the chance to work in nyc higher ed (private denominational) remotely and then make the jump and take the plunge into moving to NYC and getting by there until now.

I'm far from where I thought I wanted to be, and it was such a difficult, tedious, stressful, emotional path, but I ended up in a place and at a stage in my life where things seem to be working out.

[familyvideostevie]

hii if you’re still willing to take requests could I ask for an Eddie x reader where Robin introduces the two because of reader’s similar interests and taste in guys? I was thinking kind of like how Robin saw Nancy had a Tom Cruise poster but with reader and she sees that reader has a Dave Mustaine poster? “You have a Dave Mustaine poster?? You have a Dave Mustaine poster 😏” I’m sorry if it’s dumb lol thank you 💕

this cracked me up, honestly, and i love any chance to write dear robin as the best friend ever, hope you like it! | 1k, fem!reader, fluff, short and sweet, pre!relationship, Eddie is a gem, thank you for requesting this was not dumb!!!! <3

"You did not put enough sunscreen on, Robin," Nancy chides. "Your nose is already red."

"That cannot be true," your friend whines. "Steve watched me put on like, four layers. I'm just sweaty!"

The three of you are sprawled on a blanket in the park, half-heartedly watching the rest of the group play basketball in the summer heat. This is only your third or fourth time hanging out with all of Robin's friends, but she's done her best to fold you in after graduation. You don't question it too much, because you could use some people to hang out with as you figure out your life and the energy between all of these kids is something magnetic, something special.

They seem alright with your presence, even a little overenthusiastic. You made sure to lead with your endless pool of fun facts and for some reason once Max declared that the way you whistled really loudly with your fingers was "way cool," you were in.

"Nancy, you need to watch your shoulders," you tease. "We're all going to be lobsters pretty soon." She looks down at herself sharply before rolling her eyes at you and grabbing the sunscreen tube from her bag.

"Honestly, someone is going to hurt themselves. And it's going to be Steve." Robin looks at the court with disgust where Lucas and Steve are facing off under the basket. Dustin and Max seem to have taken it upon themselves to heckle from the sidelines, but Mike refuses to give up, trying his best to get the ball from Lucas and failing each time.

"This is embarrassing," Nancy mutters. "Bringing the Wheeler name down. I have to help him." She tosses the sunscreen aside and stands up, jogging over. "Mike! Get it together!"

"Oh, this is going to be good," Dustin laughs. "Robin, is Eddie coming?"

"I think so. Steve, when did he say he'd be here?"

"I'm busy, Robin! You're the one that invited him!" He jumps in the air to block Lucas from a shot and fails. Robin laughs.

"Well, I think he's coming," she says. You love Robin, but she's not great at hiding things from you. She can be a bit of a wall to new people or in situations when she's unsure of the people around her, but she's nothing but comfortable surrounded by her friends. So you can tell immediately that she's up to something, and tell her so. She takes a breath and launches into an answer for a question you didn't ask.

"Okay, so when we were hanging out last weekend in your room I saw the Megadeath poster on your wall and I thought wow, I've seen a poster like that before! And the blonde guy kinda looks like someone I know! So I tried to remember where I'd seen it and then I was like, oh, obviously there's the same poster on Eddie's wall and I thought wait, I don't think you guys know each other, since you're my friend from school and I introduced you to everyone else but he's never been free when you're free, I don't know how that happened --"

"Eddie...Munson, right?" you interrupt her. "Your friend? The one who sold weed in high school?"

"Yep!" she chirps, looking pleased with herself.

"Robin," you say, lowering your voice. "Are you trying to buy weed? Do you want my help?"

"No!" she says, exasperated, like you've missed the point. And you think you might have. "I'm trying to set you up!"

"Oh," you breathe out. "Oh, okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You smile at her. You know who Eddie is, obviously, and Robin is right, you room is practically wallpapered with posters of guys who look like him. You just always thought he was...kind of intimidating.

"Sweet! It's going to be great, even if you don't like like him, he's really nice and you can definetly talk about whatever shitty music you want--"

"Hey!" you protest, but it's interrupted by a chorus of greetings from the basketball court.

"Eddie!" Dustin cries. "Wanna play with us?"

"Oh, now you want to play?" Steve complains.

"Not on your life, Henderson," Eddie says, passing through the court with high fives for everyone on his way to the blanket. "Wheeler is way too scary."

"Oh, thanks man," Mike says, grinning.

"Not you, dude," Eddie teases. "Your sister." Everyone laughs but Eddie winks at Mike before the game starts up again.

"Hi Robin," he says as he stretches out on the blanket next to you. "Hello, new girl." He's got kind eyes, you think, kinder than you'd have expected. He's loose and seems happy, his biceps flexing as he leans back on his hands. You introduce yourself, trying not to be shy.

"Oh! Yeah, I've heard about you," he grins. "Got a lot of fans around here."

"Really?" You know the bond between all of these friends is something strong, something forged out of experiences you'll never understand. But the thought that they're willing to love you, too, fills your heart with such fondness your cheeks flush.

"Band geek over here told me you had a Megadeath poster on your wall, which is great, since no one in this circus of clowns has any god damned respect!" He leans into the joke a little, shaking his head like he's disappointed, but his mouth is curled up at one edge. Something in your gut tells you that Eddie Munson is someone who doesn't care what people like as long as it makes them happy.

Robin is too gleeful to be offended, eyes darting between the two of you. "I think I want to play after all," she blurts out and darts up towards the court.

"There is no way in hell that girl wants to play basketball," Eddie observes.

"No," you sigh. "This is a set up." He pulls his legs up and circles his arms around them, peering at you from under his bangs.

"Well, I don't mind if you don't mind." You really study him for a moment. Wide brown eyes, crinkled with the beginnings of a smile. He seems a little nervous, for all his bravado. He's sweating a bit, committed to his ripped jeans and general metal aesthetic and you think, damn. I want to know him.

"I don't mind," you tell him, and his grin is like the sun.

want to be added to my tag list for full-length (non-ask) fics? send me a message and specify for steve, eddie, or both! reblog, send feedback, requests open, masterlist here!

[helloalycia]

a bitch [two] // leigh shaw

summary: when you finally decide to confront leigh about the incident, things don't go to plan.

warning/s: cheating, arguing, confrontation

author's note: here’s part two! hope you like it :)

part one | masterlist | wattpad

I refused to paint Leigh in the worst light, even if I'd seen her that way. She ended up staying the night at mine to pass out without being around her sister with her hangover, and I tried not to mind. I was patient for the rest of the evening and the following morning, trying not to assume the worst. But it was hard to do that when she continued to act like nothing was out of the ordinary.

My paranoia get the better of me, as whenever she got a text or slipped out for a phone call, all I could see was her and Abby making out at the party. Why hadn't she told me what happened if it wasn't what it seemed? The only explanation could be that she didn't want me to know, which meant she was hiding it, which meant she was cheating on me. Just like Alex.

It was later that following day after the party when I was sat on the dining table doing some work on my laptop and she was sat on the couch. Her phone vibrated, followed by a tone, signalling she got a text, and I tried not to writhe with discomfort in my seat. She scoffed before tossing her phone to the other end of the couch.

"What is it?" I asked, trying not to seem too interested, even though my heart was bruising.

"Nothing," she mumbled, eyes fixated on the telly.

I gave her all of my attention now, curious. "Go on, what is it? It's clearly not nothing."

She tilted her head to look at me. Sighing, she said like it was no big deal, "Drew wants me to work on a piece, but with somebody else. And you know I'm not a fan of collaborative writing."

Forcing a smile, I hummed in acknowledgement. "Who is it? The person he wants you to work with?"

Looking back to the TV casually, she shrugged. "Abby."

Just the mere mention of that girl's name in Leigh's mouth left a bitter taste in mine. And the longer I watched Leigh staring at the TV without a care in the world, oblivious to the fact that my heart was breaking because of her, the more I wanted to burst. And I eventually did.

"I know you're cheating on me," I blurted, making her look to me with a baffled expression.

"What?"

Deciding to roll with it, I closed my laptop and met her confused stare. "Don't try to hide it, Leigh, I know. I saw you last night. At the party." She continued to play dumb, so I added with distaste, "You were kissing Abby."

Leigh opened her mouth, half-gasping and half entertained as if I was suggesting the most ridiculous thing. "You're kidding, right? That's– that's what you think of me?"

I stood up quickly, glaring at her through glassy eyes. "Don't act coy. I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. I tried to wait for you to explain yourself just in case I misinterpreted, but you continued to hide it. No doubt hiding every other moment you spend with her, too, right?"

Leigh's confusion was quickly replaced with anger, as she stood up from her place on the couch and walked towards me, pointing a finger my way.

"How dare you jump to conclusions like that!"

"It's not jumping!" I shouted, unable to stop my emotions getting the better of me. "It's facts!" Smiling bitterly, I shook my head, vision blurry with unshed tears. "I always had my suspicions that she liked you, but I never thought it could be the other way, too..."

Leigh's glare was fiery. She clenched her fists by her side as she studied my expression, attempting to find an explanation for this accusation. And the fact that she was still playing dumb pissed me off.

"God, everybody told me that you could be like this," I muttered between gritted teeth. "You flip-flop between emotions. The constant mood swings, an explosion that everyone gets caught up in."

She crossed her arms, shrugging sarcastically. "Don't hold back or anything. Say what you really mean."

I clenched my jaw and stared at her, tears finally flowing. How could this be the same person I was in love with?

"I shouldn't have expected any different when it came to your partners," I finished with a hurt voice.

Her eyes narrowed as my words settled in. "Fuck you."

"Well, you won't be, will you? You're too busy fucking Abby!"

"You're not even giving me chance to explain!" she shouted with irritation.

"Explain what?! How you kept this from me? How you had all day to explain and you just didn't?" I scoffed, shaking my head. "You know, sometimes you can be such a..." I searched for the right word before my frustration landed on only one. "Such a bitch."

She pressed her trembling lips together as she glowered at me through teary eyes. It stung, knowing I was the reason she was upset. But she cheated on me. I had every right to be.

"Fuck off," she said harshly, before turning to grab her phone and jacket.

Slipping on her shoes, she stuck a middle finger in the air before leaving my house. I glared at the space where she was stood, heart pounding in my ears and chest tightening with discomfort. She deserved it. She did exactly what Alex did.

But this hurt so much more.

—

I woke up late the next morning since I didn't have work and I was too devastated to do anything but stay in bed. Last night was difficult, just like the night before, and when I finally found myself falling asleep, all I dreamt of was Leigh.

Even though I didn't want to, I felt a guilt thrumming in my chest when my words came back to mind. I shouldn't have reacted so badly... and I definitely shouldn't have called her a bitch. My anger just took over, pushing away my love for her, and attacked her without question. But God, it still hurt. Just thinking about her with someone else reminded me of Alex and the voice message and–

Staying in bed sounded like the best option. But of course, the world had other plans.

My phone dinged, signalling I had a text, and I reluctantly reached over to my bedside table to pull it off charge. Through sleep-filled eyes, I tried to make out the name on the screen.

           Leigh ♥️

Suddenly awake, I swiped to open the message and felt my heart drop as I read it.

          Leigh ♥️: Fuck you.

Attached was a video, and as much as I wanted to get pissed at her text, I was curious to know what she'd sent. Playing it, I soon realised it was CCTV footage from her workplace, outside the toilets. At first, I squeezed my phone, thinking she'd sent it to rub it in my face. But then as I continued to watch, I saw the moments I missed last night.

Leigh walked out the toilet and Abby pulled her to the side, attempting to talk to her about something. There was no sound to the clip, but it was clear that Leigh was trying to back away and go elsewhere. They talked, Leigh using that smile she used when she was trying to be polite, before Abby suddenly pushed herself on her, kissing her. I pulled a face at the sight, reliving it all over again, but then Leigh shoved her away with anger.

Again, there was no sound, but I recognised that familiar Leigh wrath she subjected people to when they pissed her off. Hands were waving around as she seemed to be shouting in Abby's face, her face set into a permanent scowl as she did. Then she turned and stormed away, and the video ended.

Lowering my phone, I stared at the ceiling with a lump in my throat. She hadn't cheated, I'd just walked in on the wrong moment. Every horrible thing I'd said to her... completely uncalled for. No wonder she was angry and upset when I'd accused her – she hadn't done anything wrong.

"Fuck!" I shouted to nothing, before throwing my phone to the end of the bed with annoyance.

How the hell was I to make this right?

—

I spent the remainder of the morning trying to think of what I could do. Leigh wouldn't want to speak to me, understandably, but I had to try. It would be a terrible apology, but I couldn't just leave it. I loved her and I could only hope she'd still love me, even after every nasty thing I spat her way.

Knowing she'd be at work, I gave her boss and best friend, Drew, a call. Hopefully she hadn't told him everything I'd done otherwise he was definitely going to ignore me.

After a few rings, he finally answered and I couldn't stop my fingers from drumming against my thigh nervously.

"Y/N, thank God you rang! I was just about to call you," he said before I could build up the courage to speak.

I furrowed my brows. "You were?"

"You should come pick up your girlfriend," he said, and I figured he didn't know. "I don't know what her problem is and, don't get me wrong, I love Leigh, but I can't condone violence at the workplace."

My eyes widened so much I was surprised they didn't fall out my head. "What?!"

With a mixture of amazement and disappointment, he answered, "She punched a colleague of hers, Abby, in the face. It was so out of the blue – a solid punch to the jaw. Broke her knuckles, I think."

Jaw dropping, I forgot how to speak.

"She's at the hospital," he continued. "Thankfully, Abby isn't pressing charges – no idea why not, not that I want Leigh to get arrested obviously – but damn, there's a lot of paperwork to do and–"

"Drew!" I cut him off, worrying myself with thoughts of Leigh at the hospital by herself. "Text me the address. I'm on my way."

The drive to the hospital was agonisingly long, but I reached it quite quickly. I did attempt to call Leigh, unable to stop myself from checking if she was okay, but she didn't answer. This did nothing to ease my concern.

After making my way through the hospital, I finally arrived at Leigh's room. I let myself in, seeing her sat on a hospital bed with an ice pack covering her hand, balanced on a table. At the sight of me, she rolled her eyes.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she muttered lowly, refusing to meet my gaze.

I stepped inside hesitantly, my guilt returning as I remembered everything I accused her off. "Drew told me what happened."

She clenched her jaw. "Well, I'm not a baby. I'm fine on my own."

Ignoring her rightful annoyance, I sighed quietly. "Really, Leigh? You punched her?"

As if realising how silly it sounded when I said it aloud, she looked the other way and stayed quiet. Her jaw was still clenched as she contained her anger.

"What's the damage?" I asked, hoping my concern wouldn't piss her off. As always, I was wrong.

"None of your damn business," she snapped, still not looking my way.

I frowned, approaching her bedside, but she still refused to look my way. "Leigh, I want to apologise, I do, but I need to make sure you're okay first."

She rolled her eyes before finally looking to me and glaring powerfully. If I hadn't experienced being in a fight with Leigh before, I would have definitely tucked tail and ran. But I'd known her long enough to know that the mask of anger she wore right now was only a cover for the hurt she felt. The hurt I'd caused her. 

"You don't need to do anything," she retorted, before nodding to the door. "You can go."

My heart pounded with guilt. "Leigh, please.”

"Sorry, I don't mean to be a bitch or anything," she cut me off bitterly, before looking away and frowning to herself.

The words I'd said to her in a moment of fury returned to mind and I'd never hated myself more than in that moment.

"You know, since Matt died, almost everyone I know called me a bitch," she revealed quietly, voice filled with pain rather than hostility. "Even my family. Especially my family. But you... you never called it me, Y/N. Not once. Not even when I deserved it."

The silence that followed her words was deafening. Why the hell did I have to call her that? Why?

Before I could even think of how to respond, the door to her room opened and in walked a doctor, holding what looked like print-outs of x-ray scans.

"Oh," he said with mild confusion as he spotted me by Leigh's bedside. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met. I'm Leigh's doctor. Doctor Syed. And you are?"

"Her girlfriend," I replied, just as she also replied, "My ex."

I gave her a stern look, accepting if she wanted to break up, but definitely not leaving her here alone.

"I'd like to stay if that's okay," I told Doctor Syed, sensing his confusion as he looked between Leigh and I, attempting to make out whatever was happening.

To my surprise, Leigh didn't argue, even when the doctor looked her way to see if she had a problem. She simply rolled her eyes, scoffed quietly, and said nothing.

Taking this as a response, Doctor Syed proceeded to explain about Leigh's injury, particularly the broken bones in her knuckle. Apparently she'd punched Abby with so much force that she'd literally broken the bone with a crack. The x-ray proved just that and gave the doctor a perfect sight of where he could fix it, thankfully, without surgery.

I waited with an unusually quiet Leigh as he put a splint and cast on her hand there and then. He then spoke about recovery times and how she was to look after herself. After writing up a prescription for pain meds and handing it to her, he quirked a brow questioningly.

"Is that all okay, Miss Shaw?" he asked.

Leigh was too busy brooding to listen, so I smiled at the doctor instead.

"I'll make sure she does that," I answered for her. "Thank you, doctor."

He nodded and returned the smile before wishing us luck and leaving. I looked to Leigh, who was quick to get up and grab her jacket, being careful with her hand. The two of us said nothing as we left the room and hospital, making our way out onto the street. Before I could ask how she was getting home, she began to walk away from me.

I groaned inwardly before following after her, stopping her from going any further. She glared across from me.

"What?" she said through gritted teeth.

"I can give you a ride home," I offered. "I parked down the street."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm fine walking."

I gave her a knowing look. "Leigh, you just broke your hand."

Realising my point, she sighed. "Fine. I'll call literally anyone but you for a ride."

Okay, I deserved that, but it still stung.

"Fine," I said, before waiting with her as she made the call.

She took a seat on the bench to the side of the road, waiting for a taxi, and I joined her, making her scoff.

"Just to make sure you get home safe," I said, when she gave me an incredulous look.

"Whatever," she mumbled, before watching the road for her taxi.

When it finally arrived, she didn't even spare me a glance before getting in and leaving. I sighed with regret, glad she was okay but realising I still hadn't had the chance to apologise to her. I was still yet to make this right.

—

It was the next day when I'd deemed it enough time to have given her space whilst also deciding I had to tell her how sorry I was before it was too late.

Building the courage to approach her front door was one thing, but knocking was another. I'm pretty sure I stared at the wood for ages before actually lifting my hand to knock. And even then, my heart was still pounding nervously in my chest.

After a moment, the door opened and revealed Leigh. But as soon as she recognised me, she made a move to close it.

"Leigh, please, wait–!" I tried, and put my foot in the doorway so she couldn't close it.

"I have nothing to say to you!" she exclaimed with irritation, glaring at me when she noticed my foot in the way. "Move it, Y/N."

"You don't have to say anything," I said with a frown and apologetic eyes. "Just hear me out. Please."

She pressed her lips together firmly, disguising her hurt with frustration. But when her eyes met mine, the pain was there and I felt guilty all over again, knowing I'd made her out to be the worst.

"I never should have said what I did," I started quickly, not wanting to lose my chance. "And I definitely shouldn't have called you a–" I winced, hating the word more than ever. "A bitch. I know you get angry when you're upset and that should've been my first indicator to knowing something wasn't right. I should've heard you out."

"But you didn't," she cut me off with a terrifyingly calm voice. "You jumped to conclusions instead. When I've never given you any reason to doubt me."

I licked my lips and looked down shamefully. She was right. "I know."

"Do you?" she asked rhetorically, a hint of resentment in her voice. "Because you jumped on me so fast that I didn't even see it coming."

Risking looking up, I saw the defensive stance she took, arms crossed judgementally and jaw tensed with annoyance.

"For the record," she added, expression softening a little, "I didn't tell you about the kiss because it meant nothing and I didn't want to upset you for no reason."

I swallowed the rising lump in my throat, the guilt thickening and squeezing the life out of me.

"I can't believe you'd think I would do something like that to you," she admitted with a heartbreaking voice, uncrossing her arms. "I love you, Y/N. I'd never hurt you like that. Never."

Squeezing my eyes shut, I pinched the bridge of my nose, memories of Alex flooding to the surface. "I know, Leigh, I know. I do."

She sighed before me. "Then why?"

Releasing my nose, I opened my eyes and was surprised at the blurriness, tears having formed. I was losing the woman I love because of my stupidity and I couldn't. I couldn't lose her. She deserved to know the truth, no matter how much it hurt.

"Do you remember my last girlfriend?" I asked reluctantly, before clearing my throat. "Alex?"

Her brows creased together with confusion. "Yes. What about her?"

Letting out an embarrassed sigh, I avoided Leigh's gaze. "We broke up because she cheated on me. With... with someone from work."

When Leigh didn't say anything, I looked up and saw her shocked expression.

"What?" she asked with disbelief. "You said it was a mutual breakup."

I pinched the skin inside my palm to feel something other than hurt and awkwardness. "I– it was easier to say that than admit the truth because the truth was– is embarrassing." Unable to hold her gaze for much longer, I focused on the door next to her. "You were going through a lot at the time, Leigh. The last thing you needed was to deal with my bullshit, too."

She frowned, trying to meet my eyes, but I was too ashamed to look her way. "You should've told me, Y/N."

I shook my head slowly. "I shouldn't have. Just like I shouldn't have assumed you'd be like her. I just– I got horribly insecure and I know that you're not her. You're nothing like her. And I shouldn't have treated you like the villain."

"No...," she began, still adjusting to my words. "No, that makes so much sense." Her good hand rested on my cheek as she forced me to look her way. "I'm so sorry that happened."

I pulled back, her hand dropping to her side, and wiped away a stray tear. I'd never meant to earn her pity – I'd done something wrong. This wasn't me earning sympathy, I just wanted her to know the truth.

"I don't want you to apologise," I told her. "I just want you to understand that I'm sorry. So sorry, Leigh. I hate that I– I ruined something good, something amazing. I never meant for this to happen," I motioned to her hand, "and I don't want you to think of me like– like– like this. Like–"

She moved forward and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pulling me close. "I don't. I really don't."

I closed my eyes and stuffed my head into her neck, holding her tightly. She stroked the back of my hair soothingly and pressed a kiss to the side of my head.

"I forgive you," she murmured, and just like that, relief spread through me. "I'm so sorry about what happened to you. I promise I'd never to that to you. Never in a million years."

I pulled apart, wiping my tears away sheepishly whilst nodding. "I know you wouldn't, Leigh. I'm sorry for even thinking that you would."

She cupped my cheek, using her thumb to swipe away a tear. Green eyes met mine, sparkling with unshed tears that made me feel guilty because I'd never wanted to make her cry.

"I know you are," she said gently, before offering me a small smile. "Come inside, yeah? You can make it up to me by watching movies with me."

I let out a small laugh and she smiled, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to my lips before holding out her hand. I rested mine in hers and let her lead me inside, hand tingling where her skin touched mine.

Leigh Shaw was anything but a bitch. She was the most caring, considerate person I'd ever met, and when she flashed me a reassuring smile as we headed to the couch, I knew one thing.

I was lucky to have her.

[misschifuyu]

To choose a lover

requested here

characters: ran haitani + rindou haitani

genre: fluff

warnings: none

Giggles and whispering comments were passed around, giddiness present in the voices that spoke out just a few metres away from you.

As much as you tried to focus on the tiresome work that was splayed out on the piece of paper before you, it was completely futile to drown the girls out.

It didn't take a genius to know what they were talking about. The school you were all under had the privilege - if one could even consider it as such - to hold two infamous students.

The Haitani brothers.

Whilst the eldest was in his final year, the younger still had another year under this roof until he followed in his brother's footsteps.

But there was really nothing to dislike about going to class when one had a literal fan group who's main topic was always them.

There were girls who preferred Ran, with his signature braids that they always wished they could undo for him; and others that would always fawn over Rindou's cocky ways and stubbornness, trying to catch his attention wherever he went.

The current conversation, however, wasn't just fixed on talking about their aspects.

Far from it. Sending each other questionable looks and making fun of those on the other side of the opinion, they were discussing who, out of the two brothers, was better.

Those on Ran's side had the advantage of saying that he was older, therefore more responsible and willing to take care of anyone.

Sure.

He would make the perfect husband, some were proclaiming. But...the youngest would always want to show that he is the strongest, the more dependable one, as a result of the inferiority that had always hung with him since they were young.

It wasn't that he was, he just hadn't pushed himself to be known as much as his brother had done all those years back.

Needless to say, it was an argument that would never see an end. At least not until the two left the school behind and continued up to wherever the future would take them.

It was amusing, from your point of view, to hear all of these discussions. For years now you had known the two, as close friends who had grown up on the same street, so you knew everything that there was to them, right down to what they actually did when they said they were studying.

Definitely something that the girls would be pushed back by if they ever found out.

But, if it really came down to it, you probably wouldn't be able to pick one out of the pack that they came in, either.

They both had their merits and faults, and, truth be told, neither of the two were that much of a pleasure to be around with, as much as their fans would beg to differ.

One thing was for sure, though. It had come into the light when the three of you had been hanging out one afternoon, without much else to do.

You had asked the youngest about what he thought about his notorious lower level when it came to comparing him with his brother.

It had simply been a spur of the moment, and you hadn't expected him to actually give a sorrowful response.

He was well aware that he was viewed as the weaker brother of the two, and as much as he'd try to prove otherwise, it had always been something that would eat away at him.

Naturally, both you and Ran had jumped to convince him that he was far from a weak person.

The fact that he was viewed as such meant nothing at all when it came down to the reality of what he was, and that there was no point in even listening to those ignorant - and frankly, irrelevant - opinions about himself.

At the end of the day, although you would never openly admit it near the oblivious fangirls, you held a considerable amount of affection towards the two of them.

Of course, they had their odd moments in which you only wished to hit them around the head with Ran's metal bar; but, all in all, they would always be your childhood friends.

So choosing between them was simply out of the question.

Both of them held an equal importance to you, so when a peculiar feeling started growing for one of them, you quickly averted it so it would be felt for the two, whatever it were to be.

They were two peas in a pod, and you weren't about to change this because of a measly crush.

However, the thought would only bug you more whenever you were all together. Such as the current situation, sat right between the two of them on the comfort of their couch.

Before even coming over, you had mentally ordered yourself to disregard the ridiculous thoughts that had flooded your mind.

The girls back at school hadn't help with the problem one bit, if anything they worsened the conflictive feelings; and now you were to spend the afternoon with the two.

One could only think that all odds were against them in such situations.

Head resting on Ran's shoulder, legs atop Rindou's, your eyes were fixed onto the screen before you. The reasoning behind spending the afternoon together was the airing of your favourite show.

However, you were now racking your brains over what you were supposed to do after the series ended. Watching a movie was the prime option, but you figured they would want to move from the couch and do something else.

And the two were very talkative, so you would have to, inevitably, push everything in your mind aside to prevent from even giving the smallest hint surrounding your thoughts.

Your stiffness didn't go unnoticed, and, soon enough, you felt a hand on your leg, startling you in an instant.

"What the hell is up with you today, Y/N?"

Rindou had lost all attention for what was playing on the screen, and it looked to be as though he had for a bit now. This meant he had felt your change of attitude well before he had actually asked about it.

"What? No, nothing...why?"

Knitting his eyebrows together, the blond looked over at you with a disbelieving stare. By now, you were sure Ran had shifted his interest towards the two of you.

"You've been all skittish since you got here. You got something important on your mind or what?"

Geez.

"No...I've just been thinking about something stupid, that's all. Don't worry about it, now let me watch th-"

"That being?"

Now you were cornered. From behind you, having turned to look at Rindou, a voice spoke out the question. In slight panic, you managed to come up with another way around it.

"Well...that, let's say, if I had to choose one out of the two of you, I wouldn't know who I'd pick. It's a silly question one of my friends asked today, that's all"

God bless the fan girls. You were sure to never judge them internally again, because they might have just saved your skin in the nick of time.

Your nerves calmed down as you heard Rindou chuckle at the concern, and you figured he'd just brush it off as another one of your peculiar inquiries.

However, as he fully turned towards you, it was clear that he wasn't about to let this go unfazed.

"Well, you can't just leave us like that without an answer. Go on then, if it was a life or death situation, who would it be?"

"Rindou...you know I'd get rid of both of you if I could"

You all laughed at your words, stirring the conversation into an area that you were certain you could get a hold of.

Each one of you was just as ridiculous as the next one, so it wasn't hard to divert difficult topics.

If only the youngest wasn't so damn pushy.

"On a real note, there's gotta be one of us that you like just a little more, Y/N"

Upon knowing that perhaps you had driven yourself into a dead end, you started to fumble with your fingers.

What the hell were you supposed to say? If you picked one, the other was surely to get the wrong idea.

"Um..."

A slight shift behind you made you turn your head, catching Ran just a little too close for comfort to your face. Great, just what you needed.

After a few, nerve racking, seconds in silence, it was the eldest of the two that decided to break the ice. You were all just wasting time there, after all.

"Listen...since my brother seems incapable of forming a decent sentence, what we've been trying to get at is which one you'd choose, because we've both liked you for some time now and we kinda need to know who you'd go out with"

Well.

Certainly an unexpected turn to your seemingly uneventful afternoon. It appeared that you weren't the only one struggling with the damned feeling that was a crush, but you hadn't gambled that it would be both of them...and for the same person.

You couldn't choose.

In the same way that you had to waver the feeling of more than just friendship between the two of them, there was no way you could pick one now.

It would be unfair for the other, especially since you would only be lying to yourself for saying that you felt nothing for the half that was left aside.

There was only one way out of this, unless you wanted to shatter the relationship you had built between them for the past years.

"I...both of you. I can't leave one of you out when I, well, like both of you"

A huge weight was lifted from your body the moment the brothers exchanged a look, followed by an agreeing nod. Far from the catastrophe you had gambled with, that much was sure.

As Ran leaned his head on your shoulder, Rindou gave you a bright smile, one that not everyone had the chance to say that they've seen.

"Wasn't so hard to say, now was it?"

No. What was going to be hard was having not one Haitani by your side, but two, as a partner. Sure enough, you were really going to know what their poor mother had to put up with now.

[hansols-yoda-boxers]

Are Seungcheol and Minji something exclusive? At least for Minji, or did I miss something? I feel like we haven't seen much from her venturing out 🤔 I'm not saying I'd like to read something about her and reader but maybe that's exactly what I'm saying. On another note, Wonwoo poor thiiiiiing

AFAB!Reader x Kim Minji

Word Count: 2732

Contents: mentions of drinking, angst, fingering, breast play, praise, very soft dom!Minji

Notes: this whole thing has turned into a mess for the two of them. It won’t stay a mess but it sure is tonight. Also nope Minji and Seungcheol are not dating so she is free to have sex. An important part of their story is mentioned here actually. Enjoy!

The only thing that kept you from screaming in frustration was the thought that you might not be far enough away to keep people from hearing. You wanted to tear your hair out or knock some sense into yourself. You might have been tipsy but it wasn’t nearly enough to do anything stupid like that. What was your plan? What did you even want? You knew everyone would be looking at you weirdly for days after this and the thought made you want to hide out in the woods for the rest of the summer, maybe steal a canoe and canoe home.

At least you wouldn’t have to see Wonwoo’s face later if you did that.

“Geez, you can run fast.”

You jumped a little, looking around from where you were sitting on a log to find Minji puffing and pushing her way through the ferns and saplings to where you sat.

“How did you even find me?”

“I followed when you ran off,” she said. “I mean it was pretty obvious you were not okay.”

You sighed. “I don’t know why I did that.”

Minji sat next to you. “I assume it has something to do with Wonwoo.”

“Yeah but I don’t know what.” You said. “It’s just a game, and even if it wasn’t he can kiss whoever he wants. I’m not dating him.”

You could feel Minji’s eyes on you. “Well it sounds like something about that is upsetting to you. Are you feeling a little jealous?”

“I don’t know,” you said, hugging your knees to your chest. “I don’t think so? Maybe? We were spending a lot of time together and now it’s just…”

“What happened to ruin what you two had going?” She asked gently.

“Nothing really,” you shrugged. “He told me he liked someone else. So we stopped fooling around. I just- everything is awkward now whether I avoid him or try to talk to him.”

“What did you do when he told you about it?”

You laughed a little. “I kinda ran off. I don’t know, I just couldn’t process it. It’s not like I think he likes me but I just, it didn’t seem like he was interested in anyone else. He didn’t show interest in anyone else and he didn’t tell me about it. I just feel like I would have known or why didn’t he say something beforehand? Why did he keep sleeping with me if he was into someone else?”

Minji brought a hand to your back, rubbing it and letting out a sigh. “Maybe you need to ask yourself what you’re feeling instead.” She said.

“I’m trying,” you whined.

“You might be getting in your own way,” she said.

“What do you mean?” You eyed her curiously.

“I mean that if you aren’t open to whatever your true feelings are you might not get an answer. You have to be open to it not being the answer you wanted.”

You mulled that over for a moment. “That sounds hard.”

“It is,” she snorted. “But it’s better in the long run.”

“Did you have to do that?”

“Mhm,” she nodded. “With Seungcheol. It took a long time for me to admit to myself that I had feelings for him, let alone tell him about it. I kept thinking it would never work out.”

“You told him eventually, though.” You said. “But… you’re still not…”

“We don’t live in the same city, well we won’t until this year anyway. We were always hours away with no real chances to see either and with difficult work schedules. It worked for a friendship for us to just bail on talking or communicate badly at times. But we agreed that it wasn’t good for a relationship, it wasn’t going to be healthy. And our friendship means a lot to me. So we never really dated.”

“I wish I was that clear on my own feelings,” you muttered.

“Give yourself time,” she said. “Just be nice to yourself and be open to what you feel, even when it’s terrifying.” 

“You are so wise,” you chuckled.

She laughed. “Seungcheol would say I’m just old.”

“You’re not old,” you snorted.

“Ah, he likes to tease me that I’m older than him.”

“You put up with him well,” you snorted.

“I just understand him,” she said. “And he gets me. We have a good thing going.” She looked over at you. “Did you want to head back?”

“Not really,” you sighed. “I don’t really wanna face anyone after that. Or have anyone ask what I was doing or if I’m okay.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “There’s a lot to think about.” 

You leaned on her shoulder. “I don’t want to think right now.”

She giggled. “That’s fair. What do you want to do instead.”

“You know this summer, I feel like now is when I would ask the other person for sex.”

Minji laughed. “Is that what you want?”

“I don’t even know,” you sighed. “I don’t not want it, I know that much.”

Minji gave you a sweet smile. “If it’ll make you feel better I’m happy to help.”

You felt heat rushing to your skin. “Y-You’re sure?”

“You’re not the only one who gets around,” she snorted.

You giggled. “Then, okay. It could at least distract me for a little while.”

“Then a fun distraction I will be.” Minji grinned. She pulled you towards her, she placed you between her legs with your back against her chest. It reminded you of something but your brain was too worn out to remember what.

Minji rested her head on your shoulder as you relaxed back against her. She ran her fingers over your thighs and up your sides soothingly. You willed yourself to forget about everything for a few minutes and just enjoy her touch. Maybe she was right. Maybe you needed to really fully think about all of your feelings. Maybe you weren’t really aware of what was going on in your head.

But now wasn’t the moment for that.

Minji undid the buttons and zipper on your shorts, pushing them down just a bit. You lifted your hips enough to let her before sitting comfortably between her legs again. Now was a moment to relax. After so many things seeming to go wrong you needed a few minutes that felt right.

Minji brought her hand up to your mouth, resting a finger on your bottom lip. “Can you make this wet for me?” She asked sweetly.

You took her finger into your mouth.

You could think tomorrow.

You sucked gently on Minji’s finger with a hum. Her free hand was still trailing over your thigh and up your side, but now running up under your shirt a little bit. It felt so nice and you focused your attention on the gentle, soothing sensations she was giving you.

“Perfect,” she murmured, pulling her finger from your lips. She gently pressed her finger into your panties and slid it down until she found your clit. You let out a sigh as she started to rub slow, gentle circles into your sensitive bud. You spread your legs a little wider for her, enjoying the way the sensation sparked pleasure in your core.

The nails of her other hand trailed up your stomach lightly. She came just up under your chest before lazily trailing her fingers back down again. Each time you took in an inhale in anticipation before her hand moved away again. She was going slow, gently taking her time and you couldn’t complain. Your whole being felt tired from everything that had been running through your head, to every awkward and failed conversation you had had, and from it just being so late in the summer. You needed something soothing to relax you, a small reprieve if nothing else.

“Are you feeling good?” She asked quietly.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “I’m so tired these days.”

“I know,” she said sympathetically. “Life isn’t easy, emotions aren’t easy.”

“They really aren’t,” you sighed, your voice starting to show signs of arousal.

Minji pressed a kiss to your neck. “You can just relax for a little bit. Let me make you feel good.”

“Please,” you sighed, hips moving slightly with her fingers as they moved a little faster. You kept your breathing as even as you could while she did so. Her fingers finally moved higher to your chest, starting to play with one of your nipples through your bra. You pressed forwards into her touch and she chuckled.

“I’m doing a good job then,” she hummed.

“Definitely,” you murmured. “Please keep going.”

“Don’t worry,” she purred. “I’m not stopping until you’re completely satisfied.”

You bit down on your lip, feeling yourself clenching from her words. Your hands found her thighs, kneading and squeezing her soft skin and holding onto her for support as your hips started to grind against her fingers a little more.

Pleasure was building in you steadily. Small huffs and breaths fell off your lips as the feeling of her touch turned you on more, made you feel better. Your head fell back gently against her shoulder and you felt her leaving kisses against your neck and cheek.

You felt her pushing up your shirt a little more before she was moving your bra cup down. You let out a small moan as she started to rub her thumb over your nipple in smooth circles, only adding to the pleasure you were feeling. You turned your head to the side, gazing at her through heavily lidded eyes.

“Can I kiss you?”

She giggled. “Do you want to?”

“Mhm,” you pouted.

“Then of course,” she smiled sweetly as she leaned in, capturing you in a sweet, slow kiss, though she was quick to add tongue. You sighed into her kisses, enjoying the added feeling as her fingers continued to play with your nipples and your clit. You rolled your hips slowly into her hand, torn between asking for more and enjoying the moment you were in.

Minji seemed to read your neediness though, dipping her hand lower to draw her finger through your now wet folds. You whined slightly against her lips, pressing your hips into her touch and she chuckled into the kiss.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you just what you want,” she murmured against your lips before kissing you again. 

Her finger found your entrance and gently pushed into your heat. You moaned into the kiss as a slow rush of pleasure coursed through you from the sensation. She curled her finger into you, easily finding a spot that made you feel good and had you murmuring against her lips to keep going.

You felt her hand move across your chest, exposing your other breast before she started to play with your nipple. Her movements were slightly rougher but much faster than they had been before. Slowly, you started to feel the tension building in your body.

Her finger curled and rubbed into a heavenly spot inside you, making you feel so incredibly good. You squeezed her thighs as pleasure coursed through your body, still building slowly but now enough that you were dripping and clenching here and there around her finger.

“You’re so good for me,” she murmured. You grinned at her words, feeling just a little shy. “You’re so good at making pretty sounds to tell me how you feel.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind that reminded you of something.

“It feels really good,” you breathed.

“I’m glad,” she hummed. “Do you want a little more?”

“Mhm.”

Minji pulled her finger all the way out before slowly easing two fingers into your core. Not that she needed to go slowly, you could feel that you were drenched, her fingers sinking into you very easily.

You broke away from the kiss with a gasp, looking down at your body and feeling a moan drawn from your throat. Your shorts were partially in the way but you could still see her hand moving and your own hips reacting. Both breasts were bared to the dark woods, cool breezes caressing your skin and raising goosebumps. Her fingers moved quickly, teasing the nipple between them.

“You look so cute like this,” she murmured, leaving a kiss just under your ear. “And I can feel just how wet you are, every time you clench around my fingers. Are you feeling good?”

“Mhm,” you nodded quickly, shimmying your hips a little. Some part of your brain that couldn’t quite articulate words wanted to see.

Whether she figured out what you wanted or wanted the same thing you didn’t know, but Minji brought her hand away from your chest to push your shorts and panties down more, still fingering you. You let her move your shorts and panties to your knees before kicking them off yourself. You spread your legs and groaned at the sight of her fingers sinking into your dripping cunt, clenching around her again.

“What a pretty sight,” she murmured, moving her fingers faster. More moans started to fall from your lips as the tension in your body grew more and more. You felt the way your muscles were starting to tighten as you got closer to your release, little tremors running down your thighs and hands gripping her thighs still.

Minji brought the hand that had been teasing your nipples up to your lips, pressing two fingers into your mouth. You sucked on them as she spoke.

“Do you wanna cum?” Her voice was a little lower, a little smoother and it made you whine as you nodded quickly.

“Then just try and keep those legs open for me,” she purred, bringing her hand down from your mouth. The fingers inside of you started moving faster as she started to rub your clit quickly, fingers slick with your spit.

Your head fell back against her shoulder as you bit down hard on your lip as the pleasure curled through you, your body winding tighter and tighter as moans still made it past your lips regardless. Minji kept her steady quick pace.

“You’re so good,” she praised. “Just let me hear those pretty moans properly.”

You did as she said, letting your mouth fall open, gasps and moans cascading off your lips.

“You sound just perfect,” she cooed. “You look so pretty. Are you going to cum for me?”

You nodded quickly, voice lost in a series of moans.

“Can you do it when I tell you to?” She asked. “You’ve already been so good. Can you listen too?”

“Mhm,” you were wrapped up in the sound of her voice, the feeling of her fingers.

“Good.” she purred. “Five.”

Her fingers moved a little faster.

“Four.”

You gripped her thighs as tightly as you could, your own legs trembling and threatening to snap shut.

“Three.”

You moaned and whined into the night air, right on your edge.

“Two.”

Her fingers on your clit moved even faster, even more roughly.

“One.” 

Her lips were brushing against your ear.

“Cum for me.”

You let out a high pitched moan as your body released. Tremors ran out through every inch of you as you rode out your high and pleasure coursed through your body. Your legs pressed in around her hands as your hips followed her fingers until your high started to subside.

You were left panting as Minji pulled her hands out from between your legs. She wrapped one arm around you to keep you steady, bringing the other hand up to your mouth. You sucked her fingers between your lips as she pressed soft kisses to your shoulder, soothing your shaking body.

“How do you feel?” She murmured, pulling her fingers from your mouth

“So good,” you hummed. “That was perfect.”

“I’m glad,” she said. “We might need to head back soon.”

“You didn’t get to-”

“Don’t you worry about that,” she hummed. “I wanted to make you feel good. And I can get some whenever I need.”

You snorted. “Seungcheol?”

“He can’t resist me,” she laughed. “So I’ll definitely be okay.”

“Okay then,” you hummed. As the shaking in your body slowed  you grabbed your shorts and pulled them on as she fixed your bra and shirt. Minji helped you to your feet and you looked around.

“Which way did we even come?”

Minji giggled, taking your hand. “This way,” she said. “Come on, I’ll walk you back.”

[pedrosbisch]

My Sun and Stars

Santiago ‘Pope’ García x F!Reader w nickname

Chapter 2- Fight Night Read: Chapter 1 here

Summary: The night after Santi brings you home, you go to Benny’s match. Will there be more than one fight tonight? More sassy reader being done with Santi’s shit 😂 Rated M for Language

AN: Hello! I’m so happy you’ve all enjoyed the last chapter, and I’m so thankful for the support I’ve received so far!

TW: Some non descriptive violence; Angst

You enter into the arena and you automatically think this stinks. You take one step inside; and the pungent odor of dust mixed with sweat and BO assaults your nostrils.

“C’mon down this way, I saved us seats up front near Benny’s corner.” Says Will, as he leads you and Frankie down the crowded aisles.

You take a seat with your snacks and pass them along to down to Frankie and Will as you wait for Benny to come out. You can’t help but notice that despite his promise, Santiago was nowhere to be seen.

“Pope’s running late again I see.” You say half whispered, thinking about your previous night’s encounter wondering if it has anything to do with you. “Maybe he found another nice piece of ass in the parking lot.”

“Hahaha; I don’t think there’s any type of ass he’d be interested in here tonight, Hail.” Will says subtly pointing to a pot bellied man with a braided beard nearly down to his trousers.

“I don’t know Will, he was in Columbia a long time. Maybe his preferences changed.” Frankie jested, and you all broke into laughter.

“You guys better not be talking shit, unless you guys wanna go in the ring next!” Interjects Pope as he saunters up to your group. He hugs both the guys, and squeezes himself into the space between you and Frankie on the bench. “Hey Hail, how you feeling today?”

“Uh, better…Thanks. I barely remember getting home last night. I have vague memories of pulling up to my apartment and you uh…” You could feel your face going red and more than one set of eyes on you. And he's so close; Why did he have to sit next to you?

“Wait- Pope you…? Hail why didn’t you call me I would’ve came and got you. I was worried about you all night.” Will looked back and forth between you, trying to figure out if his suspicions are true.

“I drove her home and walked her up to her apartment. I should’ve told her to call you but she was passed out on the couch before I left. I didn’t want to wake her, that’s all. You think I’d let our girl here fend for herself while she was drunk?” Santi wraps an arm around your back and subtly rubs at a piece of bare skin with his thumb.

What the fuck is happening? Why do I kind of like this...? You almost relaxed into his touch; He's warm, and he still smells so damn good compared to the rest of the crowd around you. You wish you could bury yourself in his chest again, forgetting where you were and who's around you.

“No Santi that’s- Our girl? Since when do you two get along? ”

Your attention snaps back from your fantasy long enough to realize you were leaning into Santi. You straighten your posture and feign a stretch, wiggling back into a position closer to Will.

"Uh well, as much as I hate to admit it he was a gentleman last night and helped me when he really didn’t have to. So I don’t think I should hold that introduction against him.” You look ahead to the ring avoiding their gaze, hoping that they won’t push any further on the subject.

A minute later Benny comes out, and all the attention is centered back on him. 2 brutal rounds later, Benny places a left hook just under the guy's jaw and knocks him out. Cheers erupt from your small group and popcorn flies as you jump up from your seat.

As the crowds die down and start to filter out; Will and Frankie walk to the men’s locker room with Benny, leaving you and Santi alone.

“Glad you’re feeling better today, although I wouldn’t mind you being as nice as you were last night."

“Hey, I have been nice. Did I not tell Will that we’re good now? You don’t have to push your luck.”

“Ohhh, I get it. You just don’t want me calling you our girl, although you did seem to like when I put my arm around you. Don’t think I didn’t see you, how your cheeks got all flushed. But don’t worry, it was adorable.” He brushes his finger gently along the bottom of your chin and your jaw drops.

“You know, I was having a good time til you opened your mouth Pope. I’d appreciate if you pretended last night never happened.”

“Oh now I’m back to Pope again? And what part exactly would you like me to pretend never happened? The part where you said I should ask you out to dinner, or the part where you told me I smell too good to say no?”

Fuck. You didn’t think he would take it to heart, or bring it up considering you were supposed to be friends now. “You’re such an asshole. I was drunk and vulnerable and now you’re throwing it back in my face? I should’ve just taken my chances and walked home last night.”

“Woah, Princesa when did I say I was making fun of you? No, baby not at all. But you should let me take you out to dinner- I even wore that same cologne you like.”

You freeze. Your brain turns a mile a minute as your jaw hangs slack. “Fuck this, you really think I’d go out with you just because you’re wearing some shitty cologne? I liked the guy who took me home last night and dropped his bravado at the bar stool.”

His face drops and any trace of ego is removed from his voice. “C’mon Hail, I was just-“

“You were just nothing Santiago. I don’t go on dates so a guy can fuck me after buying me dinner. I’m not another one of your fucking conquests, so drop it.”

You walk away from Pope with your heart pounding in your ears. How dare he assume so much of you? He doesn’t even know your real name; Or anything about you for that matter.

You make a b-line for the locker rooms, praying they’ve cleared out by now. You say your goodbyes to the boys and congratulate Benny on his win before beginning your walk home.

A few minutes into your walk, you hear loud pounding against the sidewalk. You turn around to see Santiago running and slowing to a stop a few feet behind you.

“Why are you here?” You clench your jaw and do your damndest not to punch him.

“What, I can’t be a gentleman and walk you home?” He closes the distance between you and stands so close you can feel the heat radiating off of his body.

“I’m a big girl, I can walk home on my own. And if you hadn’t noticed, I left to get away from you.”

“I did notice. Who else would I annoy when you’re gone?”

“Literally anybody else Santiago, what do you want?” You take a step back and instantly shiver. The temperature has dropped drastically now that the sun has set and you wrap your arms around yourself in attempt to keep warm.

“I want to take you on a date.” Santi takes off his jacket and extends it out to you. He really is trying, you'd almost feel bad for acting so cold towards him if you weren't so scared of getting played.

“I already said no.”

“No, you said no to dinner. C’mon Hail, why not? I want to get to know you better.”

“Fine— you know what? I’ll make you a deal. If you can tell me what my name is, my REAL name then you can take me on a date.”

You both stand silently for a minute, the only sounds around you can hear is crickets chirping in the tall grass.

“I don’t know your name, you never told me.”

“You never asked. But that’s exactly my point, Santi. You don’t know me well enough to take me on a date. Get to know me as a person first, if you still feel the same way in a few months- I’ll go on a date with you.”

"Fair enough Princesa, but until then-- I'd like to know your real name." Once again, he holds out his jacket toward you pleading with soft chocolate eyes to take it.

You slip into his jacket and bask in the leftover heat from his body. It smells like him, and you can't help but let a smile crack through.

You tell him your real name.

"Beautiful," he brushes his fingers up against the side of your face, "just like you."

You start walking again and he follows, beginning not only your journey home; But something much more.

[managedmischiefs]

sweatpants//spencer reid

genre: fluff

warnings: nothing really. sad spencer for about two seconds.

word count: 2.7k

i have plenty more one shots on my wattpad so let me know if any of you want to see more of this type of writing :) make sure to reblog and comment :))

i fell in love with spencer reid the moment i met him. i fell in love with absolutely everything about him. his smile lit up the little bookstore as his glasses drifted further and further down his nose, and his hair hung over his forehead in messy, unbrushed curls. from the first time we locked eyes after he got a book down from the top shelf for me, i envisioned our whole future together.

we saw each other casually after our first meeting despite how badly i wanted more. we quickly realized that we frequented the little bookstore at the same time on saturdays and we just began to "accidentally" run into each other over and over at the same exact day and time. of course, i made sure to be there every saturday for the next three months just for the chance of seeing him.

i finally got the balls to ask him out after the fifth month of these meetups. he seems surprised and he blushed, then tugged on his tie to loosen it around his neck. he accepted quickly and we went bowling the next week. we were both horrible and eventually asked to put the bumpers up because the amount of gutter balls we were throwing were astronomical. but that "first" date was the first time i noticed something very important about spencer reid.

he wears a variation of the same outfit every single day, no matter what he's doing.

sweater vests, button ups, slacks, ties, and converse. sometimes a cardigan. these items get mixed and matched everyday and sometimes don't match, but the chaos of his outfit colors just suits him. and it suits his penchant for wearing mismatched socks. but i continued to realize more and more about his wardrobe as we spent more time together.

if we went out: slacks, button up, tie, converse.

if we had dinner at his apartment: slacks, button up, sweater vest, tie, converse.

if we cuddle on the couch: pajamas.

there's no in-between with him and it took me a while to decide if i loved this or thought it was odd. i landed somewhere in the middle. he would sometimes start to squirm in the middle of dinner and go to change into pajamas to be more comfortable.

i never commented on this because i knew he liked the way he dressed and i didn't want him to think i hated it. he's already an insecure person, despite me loving him with my whole heart and soul, and i'd feel so horrible if i added onto that. so i would sit through the squirming and the tie-tugging and the quick unlacing of shoes after a long day of converse wearing. i grinned and gave him lots of kisses because i love him regardless of his fashion choices. or lack there of.

but spencer continues to grow and thankfully, i grow with him. i start a new job and spencer continues to thrive at the bau. i move into his apartment and he decides that this is the perfect time for a change. a new haircut. super short on the sides and long on the top. i nearly keeled when i saw how utterly handsome he was with his new haircut. i jumped his bones immediately.

but the sweater vests and same brown cardigan didn't quite hit the spot anymore. i would find spencer standing in front of the mirror before work, silently wondering if the black or brown cardigan would look better with his gray sweater vest. still, it was endearing but eventually it becomes too much.

i pass a department store everyday on my way home from work and it started to pique my interest. one day when i got off work early and knew spencer wouldn't be home, i stopped off. the store was huge and had a humongous selection of styles and brands to choose from. i knew i had to bring spencer.

when i told him i wanted to take him shopping, he tilted his head in confusion like an adorable puppy. "what do you need? new sweaters? it is almost winter and i know you got rid of most of your winter clothes when the summer came. did you—"

"no, honey," i laughed, silencing his confused, off-topic rant. "i'm taking you shopping. for you."

another head tilt. "for me? i don't need anything."

"i know you don't need anything," i clarified, running my hands through his freshly cut hair, "but i want to treat you. and besides, i think you've outgrown some of your wardrobe and it's time to get some new items."

so that leaves us now, walking hand in hand into the department store. he's holding me tighter than usual as i lead him to the men's section, but i don't complain. i know he gets nervous in public places and i have no problem with a bit of coddling.

"so, i was thinking," i say as i flip through a rack of undershirts, "you could get some new dress pants. maybe a pair of jeans. maybe some blazers or just suit jackets. that way your style can grow but you can also wear your trusty button ups and ties underneath."

spencer pouts. "i like it better when we shop for you."

i stifle a laugh as i find an appealing gray blazer and search for spencer's size. "and why's that, bub?"

"because then you get to pick out cute clothes and i can watch you try them on."

"well, this time, i'll get to watch you try them on," i wink and hand the blazer over to him. "hold that. please and thank you."

spencer huffs and drops my hand so he can hold the hanger of the blazer. i continue walking through the racks and in my peripherals, i can see spencer glancing around the store and at the racks surrounding us. he follows behind me like a lost puppy, the amount of items in his hands growing as i pass every rack.

"how would you feel about," i pick out a set of matching maroon pants and a maroon blazer, "this color?" i told it up to spencer's chest. he looks down at the garment and scrunches up his nose. "no? that's okay. i think navy's suit you better anyway. no pun intended."

"babe?" he wonders softly as i move over to a rack of ties. "why are you doing this?"

"doing what?" i pick up a tie that is blue with pink flamingoes on it and drape it over his shoulder.

"taking me shopping. wanting to redo my wardrobe or something."

"well," a new tie on his shoulder- a yellow base with blue whales, "you have had the same wardrobe since i met you, and that was many years ago. you've grown up, spencer. maybe some new clothes could reflect that."

i watch a pout come to his face and his shoulders deflate. "you don't like the way i dress?"

i pout right back at him, trying to not seem so mocking in my expression. "i love the way you dress. but i think it might be time to replace that same brown sweater vest you've had since college. that's what i'm talking about. we don't have to do this if you don't want. we can go home."

spencer thinks for a second. he adjusts his hold on the handful of blazers and trousers in his arms and takes another glance at them. "i'll give these a try."

the pride swells in my chest and nearly bursts out. it's no secret that spencer hates change. he would rather his life stays exactly the same all the time. meals, furniture arrangement, train schedule, his wardrobe. clearly, he would rather wear the same clothes for the rest of his life than branch out a bit. so him agreeing to do just that nearly makes me cry right in the middle of the department store.

we push on and spencer continues to trail behind me and hold the clothes i pick. once his knees are practically buckling under the weight of the chosen clothes, i agree to let him start part two. the fitting room.

he disappears into a room and i sit across from the door in a fluffy armchair that probably has more germs on it than a public bathroom. okay, maybe that's just dramatic. but it has enough germs that i'm sure spencer would refuse to sit here, or maybe even get grossed out that i'm sitting on it.

"uh," i hear my boyfriends voice from behind the door, "i think i did it."

i hold in my giggle. "you think?"

"i mean, i put together an outfit. don't know if it's any good. it's definitely not as good as the things you put together."

"just let me see."

the door pops open and my jaw nearly hits the floor. my spencer is standing there in navy slacks, a navy blazer, a vest, button up, and a tie. he looks exactly like i expected him too. my same loving, quiet, genius boyfriend but much older and mature. he looks phenomenal.

but spencer scrunches up his nose and turns on his toes to look in the full length mirror. "i feel like all of this is too busy. there's too much happening."

"no, baby, not at all," i come up behind him and slide my hands across his back and then around his waist. "it's such a good look on you. it's spencer reid but as an adult."

he furrows his eyebrows and looks at me through the mirror. "are you implying i dressed like a child before?"

"no, no, not at all," i nudge his waist and he spins back to me. "it's a perfect outfit. you put it together perfectly. the colors, the different pieces."

spencer's face lights up as he watches me adjust the lapel of his jacket. "really?"

"yes!" i smooth down the shoulders and then tug on the cuff links. "it's perfectly your style. you don't think so?"

"mm," he looks back down at his own body and shakes out his arms a little. "i guess it is. it's just...different."

"it is different but it's a good different. you're still the same old genius who could go on for hours about mushrooms or doctor who or whatever. so you," i pat his shoulder and go up on my toes to kiss his cheek, "get into a new outfit and show me again, okay?"

spencer agrees and closes the fitting room door. we stay at the store for nearly two hours, picking out and trying on potential outfits. spencer even starts picking items on his own, but he comes to me in the cutest way to ask if i like the things he's picked out. i always do. and even if it's not my favorite piece, he obviously likes it so i tell him i love it.

we spend hundreds and split the bill. i insisted i pay because i was the one who brought him here, but he insisted he pay because the clothes are for him. we found a happy medium.

i don't know what i thought was going to happen after we basically replaced his wardrobe. apparently, i didn't think about what the next work day would be like. because i wake up before spencer and go to make breakfast and only listen to him shower and get dressed.

"good morning!" spencer chirps, practically skipping into the kitchen.

"morning!" i say back, putting pancakes on a plate for him. "here's your—" and i absolutely freeze in my spot at the sight of him in a dark tan jacket and slacks, a purple button up, and a matching gray tie. his hair is perfectly swooped across his forehead and he's grinning, practically glowing in his new outfit. "holy shit."

"you like it?" he holds up his arms a bit as if to gesture to his appearance.

i just stand and stare at him for another minute, clutching the plate in my hand so tightly that i fear i might break it. but spencer chuckles, taking it from me and placing it in front of the chair he always has breakfast in.

"i might not let you out of the house looking this good," i finally manage to say. "you'll come home with a new girl on your arm and forget all about me."

spencer pouts. "i'd never do that to you."

i grab onto his cheeks and lay a huge kiss on his lips. "i know you wouldn't. you look amazing, spence. even better than yesterday."

spencer comes home that night and beams about the compliments he got from his coworkers today and thanks me for encouraging him to expand his wardrobe. i don't accept his thanks because i'm just happy to see him feeling more confident in himself than ever.

however, my job is not done yet.

as much as he loves his new clothes, i give him a few weeks to adjust to his new normal. i let him get used to needing a few extra minutes in the morning to arrange an outfit and to the washing process before i spring something new on him. but once i can tell he's completely comfortable with his new wardrobe, i stop at the department store after work again.

"spence?" i call into the apartment as i kick my shoes off, clutching the paper bag in my hand.

"hi!" he calls back, emerging from the study with a book in his hand. "you're late."

i hold up the bag for proof. "i stopped at the store again." spencer follows me into the bedroom and sits on the edge of the bed in anticipation. "well, first, i saw a couple more ties that i liked," i take those out of the bag and throw them over his shoulder. "but i got these!"

i pull out three perfectly folded pairs of sweatpants and four plain colored tee shirts. spencer unravels each item and then looks up with his eyebrows furrowed. "i don't get it."

"okay," i giggle, placing my hands on his shoulders, "when i go to work, i wear my skirts and blouses and heels, right?"

like the puppy he is, he tilts his head to the side in confusion. "right."

"and when i got to sleep, i wear pajamas. but between the blouse and the pajamas, i wear sweats. you, my love," i boop his nose and instantly, an adorable pink hue paints his cheeks, "don't own sweats. you go from suits to pajamas. and again, i'm not saying that i don't love the way you dress. i'm just looking out for your comfort. if you hate them, i'll return them. simple as that."

he runs his hands over the tee shirts and runs it between his fingers. "they are really soft."

"i got the ones that are 100% cotton because i know you like how it feels."

"i'll try it," he concedes, smiling up at me. "thank you. you're too good to me."

"you deserve the world, angel face."

the next day, he gets called away for a case and i don't see him for almost two weeks. we call and text as much as possible, but we both get so busy that it's nearly impossible. so i stick to sending him good morning and goodnight texts and praying that he comes home in one piece.

after nearly two and a half weeks without him, i come home and see his car in the parking garage where it always is. i squeal, running all the way to the apartment and bursting through the door.

spencer is lounging on the couch, thankfully in one piece, and reading a book, dressed in gray sweatpants and a white tee shirt. he looks up and grins when i enter, standing up and pulling me into his arms.

"i can't believe you're sitting here," i mumble into his neck, "and looking so good when i'm not around."

spencer laughs into my shoulder, kissing my small bit of exposed skin. "well, you're here now so you can enjoy it."

"you look so fucking hot," i blurt out, grabbing a handful of his cotton shirt and tugging him towards the bedroom. "let me show you just how hot i think you are."

"god, i love this new wardrobe."

[everythingsinred]

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 5)

I'm back on my bullshit. I decided I'd post these, once a day, four days a week. Then I'll go on breaks for the weekend to let interested readers catch up while also further writing more entries. At the time I'm posting this, for example, I'm in the process of analyzing Chapter 39. That way, it's easier for everyone to enjoy this essay. Which I hope people do.

Anyway, this can finally truly be called a ship essay, because one of our key players has FINALLY developed feelings! Going forward, Natsume's behavior will heavily feature his growing affections for Mikan. We'll be analyzing Natsume's self-preserving hesitation as well as his immediate instinct to give up any chance he has from the get-go.

Chapter Seventeen

Natsume next shows up to walk into Class B during a commotion of Mikan’s retelling of the Reo incident. The kids all gather around him now too to ask questions and press about his condition. One kid even asks if he should teach Mikan a lesson for bragging about his rescue. Mikan smiles at him, under the assumption that their shared trauma has brought them closer and maybe even made them friends, but Natsume’s response is to simply turn away and ignore her.

He’s still Natsume after all. This is the first girl he’s ever liked, and she used to be somebody he despised, so the change in feelings is probably very strange to him. He’s confused and possibly embarrassed. He doesn’t know what to say or how to act.

Can't have her getting any ideas that he's completely changed his mind about her or anything.

Most of the people that Natsume likes at the school (although that is just Ruka and Youichi… so… you know) know that he likes them. He spends time with them, is gentle with them, does things for them, and can openly say kind things to and about them. Mikan is different. He used to be her number one enemy, so all of a sudden switching gears and becoming her friend would be quite odd.

Over time, Natsume will find ways to be gentle and sweet to Mikan, but for now his crush is brand new and he doesn’t know how to act quite yet. He’d rather avoid her entirely, or pretend like nothing happened, than openly approach his new feelings.

Furthermore his behavior is always and under all circumstances inseparable from his status as Persona’s favorite and as the Black Cat. He may have some loved ones, but he keeps the number low and tries to avoid getting close to people for a reason. Naturally, nobody could ever really understand his experiences so there will always be a divide between him and the rest of his peers, but even more than that is that considering people precious turns them into targets.

Natsume has probably learned the hard way that displaying closeness and affection for his friends can have dangerous effects, so he might now think of showing that kind of affection as selfish or even cruel. Why subject somebody to something like that, merely because he has feelings for them? It’s not fair.

In either case, it’s really not that Natsume is naturally mean and cold. He just doesn’t trust his situation enough to properly act. It’s safer in every way to just pretend like nothing changed. It’s too much to deal with otherwise. But sooner rather than later, the hard thing will be staying away. Eventually, maintaining coldness with her will be almost impossible.

Chapter Eighteen

This chapter further touches on Natsume’s new-found crush and its consequences.

Class B is used to being in an environment where Natsume hates Mikan and is bothered by everything she does. He gives in to her slightly, in small ways, and it shocks his classmates. Now, it’s understandable that, even if he hadn’t developed a crush on her, he might still be softer to a girl who risked her life to save him, but it’s still odd.

Mikan recalls asking Natsume for help training her alice. She needs an offensive alice to nullify, so Iinchou or Hotaru’s would be ineffectual in training. Natsume is really the best person to ask, and, to everyone’s surprise, he actually agrees to help.

Natsume doesn't need any convincing to help her, but what did she think practicing with a fire alice would entail?

And yes it does seem like he’s only doing it to torture her, because his alice is capable of genuine bodily harm and his admirers snicker with amusement at his antics, but I can’t help but assume there’s more to it.

He doesn’t really hesitate to help. He doesn’t need convincing at all. In some ways I think he did genuinely want to help. Her alice helped save his life, after all. Why not repay the favor by using his alice to help her train? To him, there's a lot of value in her alice, so training it is beneficial in his perspective as well.

And later still, Mikan spots Natsume sitting amongst the principal students. He stands out, as an elementary student next to upperclassmen. This moment is a good introduction to the arc. His crush on Mikan only grows stronger as the festival goes on, but there’s something looming over him too--he’s different from the rest of them. He stands out so much during the festival. He’s a dangerous ability type who’s not allowed to participate while also being a principal who has to sit on the stage for the opening ceremony. That's horribly ironic, but also shows just how singled out and under the spotlight he is. It’s a huge part of why he acts the way he does, so cold and mean and distant despite his growing affections. It’s all he can do.

He may see potential for a future, but he’d be foolish to think he should be able to acquire it, because his current circumstances have not changed at all.

The chapter ends with Natsume being asked by Koko if he wants to try out the special ability class event. He’s looking towards the special ability area, and we can tell the next chapter will be fun.

Chapter Nineteen

And how!

Natsume is here to see Ruka, his best friend, but he’s also here to catch a glimpse of the girl he has a crush on.

Sumire is also there, and it’s interesting to see that Natsume hasn’t changed in his attitude around her either, even though she also helped save him. She tries to embrace him and he dodges her.

This catches some people’s attention and they start to whisper about his presence.

In the anime, this moment is a bit more potent, hearing the murmurs and seeing a darkness over the gossiping kids, but the manga still establishes that the people waiting in line are by-and-large unhappy to see him. They whisper amongst themselves, rudely asking why he’d bother to come here, but that gloom only lasts for a moment (one singular panel and then Natsume’s responding bitterness) before Mikan appears jumping over the wall, calling his name and even smiling.

It’s almost like she was waiting for him to show up, running off from her post the second she heard Natsume was there. The dark looming screentones are replaced with flowery ones, and it’s hard not to think of this as his perspective: all is gloomy and then there is Mikan. All of a sudden, after hating her for so long, he thinks of her as bright sunshine, and he must have showed up just to see her and feel nice for a change.

It's Natsume seeing Mikan through floral-filter lenses for me...

Of course, he ruins the mood. It feels almost as if he does it solely because he knows it will upset her. She was so excited to see him, and he manages to completely turn her mood from eager to angry, just the opposite of how she was able to unwittingly turn his mood from gloomy to... as close to content as he can get.

He’s okay now. He doesn’t want her getting any ideas.

Now, in my opinion, his method of bothering her could be anything and the plot would remain the same. What matters is that he wants to piss her off, and this just so happens to be the way he does it, partially because it’s intended to be funny. Mikan has to get angry at him for this chapter to progress the way it does, but his actions could have been replaced by any other irritating action and it could’ve gone the same way.

Tsubasa then appears, drawn to the sound of a loud commotion. He sees Natsume and vaguely wonders why he’s there. Everyone knows Natsume, at all grade levels, because he’s famous. For Tsubasa, whose only real knowledge of Mikan’s relationship with the kid is that he causes trouble in Class B, it would be strange to see him at the RPG.

Natsume, meanwhile, has no idea who Tsubasa is. Seeing Mikan crawl all over her senpai, seeing him easily comfort her, is something that bugs Natsume. He glares at Tsubasa, somebody whose name he doesn’t even know, and then starts leaving with Ruka.

At first, Tsubasa is confused to be treated like this, until he hugs Mikan tighter and sees both Natsume and Ruka turn in jealousy. Tsubasa gets it immediately. Thus begins a strange and tumultuous frenemy relationship between Tsubasa and Natsume, where they both begrudgingly understand each other while also irritating each other beyond belief.

Natsume is not interested in playing the game, insulting it and wondering how anyone could get hooked on it. Ultimately, it’s not even Mikan who convinces him to give it a shot; it’s Tsubasa taunting him, “then you should be able to win, no problem, right?”

Tsubasa will come to regret saying this, because the answer is yes.

The RPG is designed to be tough. Nobody has won the whole game yet. Beating one or two students is one thing, but being able to outsmart or outmaneuver the entire special ability class is a difficult feat.

Natsume agrees to play, and gets a robot cockroach as a weapon.

Tsubasa is hugging Mikan as Natsume is about to enter, and that pisses him off even more. He decides that Tsubasa will be his slave, his motive being get your hands off her. This is silly considering that just a short time ago, Natsume hated Mikan. His feelings really did a 180.

The challenges pick up in difficulty as he goes on. The first one is effortless. He doesn’t even move from where he’s standing. The mirror-alice girl just freaks out about the cockroach and sends him on his way after two seconds.

The next one is trickier, and Natsume will need to put in more effort than just standing and waiting for the cockroach to do its job. But not that much effort. He sits next to Megane, lights a fire, and waits. It’s a scorching flame, and although Megane tries to tough it out, he gives in with two seconds to spare. Natsume, a smartass, quips sarcastically that he’s sorry--he really can’t tell how hot it is. (This is not actually important or anything, it’s just interesting that Natsume is not affected by his own flames and can’t feel the heat of them. I might end up referring to this a couple times.)

With the exception of the first and last challenges, Natsume uses his alice to beat the maze; either by heating Megane up so his soul goes back into his body, or by writing with fire instead of chalk. The next challenge is the one Natsume has been waiting for and he’ll use his alice here too.

Tsubasa is shocked to find Natsume has progressed so quickly, but he proceeds with the challenge: Natsume has to touch him in thirty seconds, but it’ll be tricky ‘cause he’s held in place by his shadows. He toys with Natsume’s shadows a bit, which really pisses Natsume off. Tsubasa even apologizes nervously, even though he’s the one in control. Or he is, until Natsume uses his alice again and gets rid of the shadows.

Natsume’s anger towards Tsubasa all stems from jealousy. It’s not just that Tsubasa was hugging and comforting Mikan, it’s that he can. Natsume needs to distance himself from Mikan in order to keep her safe, and he’s aware of that right from the start, but there’s more to it. He’s busy establishing himself as an enemy to Mikan, doing things to bother her to make her angry with him, but nobody rushes to their bully for comfort, and Natsume knows this. It’s not just that Tsubasa was hugging Mikan; it’s that he feels like he will never get the chance.

And so the next and final challenge is where he gets to be selfish.

Mikan is aggravated to see him, obviously not thrilled that he was able to make it in such a short time. Her task is that he has to get her off the carpet in thirty seconds. He can’t hurt her or force her off the carpet, and because of their alice training together, he can’t use his alice on her either. (They’d apparently practiced so much that she was able to sharpen her skills significantly. Before, her alice was a wildcard and she struggled with using it, but now she’s able to use it with relative ease. That’s a lot of training in a short time, and I’m sure Natsume wasn’t upset at all the time they had to spend together as a result.)

Natsume must feel relief regarding Mikan's nullification alice. She's nullified his alice in pretty big ways already, one time to save his life. The girl he's crushing on is capable of turning off the thing that decreases his lifespan. She really is a breath of fresh air, in more ways than one, and his appreciation for her alice, even if he doesn't voice it, will only grow. This is important, but I'll talk way more about this in the other POV.

He tries the cockroach, but she’s a country girl and unaffected.

Natsume is genuinely stumped by her challenge, admitting to himself that it’s a tough one. He then comes up with a risky idea, no doubt influenced by her rescue of him when they were kidnapped by Reo. He plays sick. This act only works if Mikan falls for it and is concerned enough to jump off the carpet, but he’s a good actor on account of all the sick experience he has and she does fall for it in no time. Her being concerned was a given.

She jumps off, meaning he’s won the game, but that’s not enough of a victory for him. He acts sick until she’s closer, so he can grab her and put his arm around her. Yes, he calls her an idiot, but this is the closest he can get to a hug… for now. It doesn’t matter that she’s annoyed and dismayed that he won. All he cares about is that he got to touch her.

She jumped down. He won already, but it's not enough! (Also sorry about two pictures. If it ruins the format, oh well.)

Natsume was jealous that Tsubasa got to do something he thinks he'll never be able to, and so he got a taste of what he wanted some other, convoluted way. He gets angry that Tsubasa is so touchy, but that's only because he wishes he could be touchy too. Natsume will get bolder and bolder with his physical affection, because he will want more and more to show it. When he starts being honest about this affection, she will be more eager to return it.

Natsume is the first winner, and Tsubasa admits it was never expected for somebody to be able to pass all the challenges. Part of the appeal is that it’s an unbeatable game, but Natsume’s feelings of jealousy and spite were enough to get him over the finish line. Though perhaps knowing it's beatable but only one person could is also appealing. It's possible to pass, but very rare for somebody to be able to, so they can draw in crowds by capitalizing on kids who want to the next person to beat the game.

He gets to choose a lamp, but he has no idea which one is whose. He cheats by asking Koko to tell him which one is the right one, but he ends up picking Mikan’s, because Koko assumed that’s the one he wanted. After all--Natsume was thinking about her. Natsume is lucky that Mikan was too anguished at being a slave to care about Natsume thinking about her, but it’s interesting to know that even when he’s supposed to be angry at Tsubasa, he was only thinking of Mikan.

Chapter Twenty

This chapter’s premise is pretty simple and light: Natsume can’t think of any use for Mikan other than to follow him and Ruka around the festival and carry their stuff. They navigate the technical ability class area and even encounter Hotaru, though only for a short time because she’s quite busy.

Most importantly, their time in the technical area makes Mikan insecure. Everyone in the tech class seems to know what they want to do with their lives, with their alices being perfect for research or creation. I’ll go into more detail with this during Mikan’s essay, but it’s important to note that Mikan asks the people around her if they’re prepared for their future only to see that they all are. Hotaru, Sumire, and even Ruka all have dreams for the future, even if Ruka won’t share his. Natsume has decided to leave the conversation and we don’t hear what his dream is, which makes sense because he doesn’t have one. Natsume doesn’t think he’ll live long enough to graduate, so why even bother wasting his own time and getting his hopes up for something unattainable?

It’s then revealed that Ruka is also a triple, and Mikan can’t tell, but the mood has been soured for Ruka. His triple-star status is a touchy subject that he’s unhappy with. His star rank is representative of Natsume’s suffering and he doesn’t like talking about it. He only says that he didn’t mention it because he didn’t get it on his own talent or effort before Natsume forces Mikan to walk in another direction, claiming to be hungry.

This is literally just a scan of the TokyoPop version, which is better than the other version I see floating around.

He can tell Ruka is uncomfortable and is ready to step in so that his friend can feel better.

As a result, they end up at the cafe where Anna is working (after all, Mikan has been perfecting her puppy-dog eyes routine and I think both Ruka and Natsume are affected, even if the latter would never admit it).

Natsume takes the first bite of Anna’s hell pie, just to see a rot demon (or whatever that thing is) taunt him about the trouble his stomach will be in soon. He really doesn’t have a choice but to throw the tea over the pie. Ruka is grateful, but Mikan is outraged at how rude Natsume is acting, and even angrier when Natsume explains that the pie was horrible. She demands he apologize but Natsume simply walks away, content to be the bad guy because he saved his friends from getting food poisoning while also sparing Anna’s feelings and reputation at her cafe.

"Your stomach will writhe" is such a potent threat. I feel sick just looking at that demon/scoundrel/rot thing.

This scene has more substance than in the anime. In the episode, Natsume sees the rotten scoundrel (or WHATEVER IT IS) before he can take a bite. He tosses the tea for all their sakes and ultimately nobody is hurt. But here, in the manga, Natsume has already taken a bite. We see the missing part of the pie, the residue on the fork. Natsume is already screwed. He's going to have food poisoning from Anna's pie, and he still puts her feelings before his own. He'd rather say that the pie is terrible according to his own tastes than to let everyone around know that she made such a health-risking mistake. He drenches the pie so that Mikan and Ruka don't get food poisoning, even if it's too late for him. Natsume leaves, knowing he will look like an asshole, AND with stomach problems on top of that, but at least he's the only one who will be seriously hurt.

This is a pretty insignificant example of a trait that we have seen before with Natsume but haven't really fully explored. It's going to play a major role for the rest of the manga, because Natsume has something of a martyr complex, where he is quick to sacrifice himself because he sees little to no value in his own happiness. This is a small example, and I'm not saying it's not kind of him, but there are consequences with his line of thinking. He's fine with looking like an asshole to protect people, or giving up things he wants so someone else can have it, or blowing himself up so two girls can escape safely. Whenever there's a chance to sacrifice himself, Natsume will take it every single time.

This may seem noble or romantic or admirable but it's not healthy at all. The way he was raised (no shade to Papa Hyuuga and Kaoru but also.... tentatively side-eyeing them for putting so much responsibility on him) and the way he is now tortured by the school has put him in a position where his self esteem is horribly low. This complex of his results in suicidal tendencies, even after he falls in love with Mikan (and even exacerbated by that love). For Natsume, love is sacrifice. He simply cannot love without feeling like he has to give something up. Ideally, he would grow out of this and maybe start seriously choosing himself sometimes. It's not evil to want yourself to be happy and to choose your own well-being, even if it occasionally makes others sad or upset.

In the context of the actual story though, we have yet another glimpse of a complex that will cause a LOT of trouble down the road for Natsume and Mikan.

Conclusion

Natsume has new feelings for Mikan and is having trouble navigating them. They will cause even more trouble in the next essay. We also touched more on Natsume's self-sacrificing tendencies and how devastating they will turn out to be. These tendencies will be consistent and persistent throughout the manga in regards to NatsuMikan's relationship, and cause more problems. These problems will pop up a bit in the next part, so stay tuned!

Also, small note: I call him Ruka and not Luca because I got used to it after watching the anime and through scans and fanfics. I heard his name pronounced that way and at first thought it was a Japanese name so I simply copied the pronunciation. When I found out it was supposed to be Luca, I'd already been using Ruka for a while. I don't really want to switch to using Luca most of the time because I know people in real life named Luca/Luka and I talk enough about GA on the daily where it might feel strange to me. I use Luca sometimes when I'm talking to others who prefer it, but Ruka is what I'm used to. I hope this isn't frustrating, but understand that I pronounce Killua's name (from HxH) like "Ki-ru-a" as well and in my head "Gakuen Alice" is pronounced "Gakuen Arisu" because I pronounce things based on what I hear when watching the anime ;-; These are things I have no real desire to change because they sound right to me. I'm sorry. (Nobody has said anything or complained, and this is not a vague or anything like that! I just wanted to say that I know it's supposed to be Luca and it's not my intention to be disrespectful when I pronounce/spell it Ruka. I am fucking crazy, but I am free.)

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[adhd-adept]

I have self diagnosed adhd and i was wondering if you could provide some advice regarding reading. I used to be able to just pick up a book and read when i was younger, but now that I'm older it's a bit difficult to just pick up a book and read for the sake of reading. I love reading, but i just can't seem to motivate myself to.

Any advice? I'd really love to get back into reading, but I'm trying to find a way to do it easier

Hello! I’m sorry this took me so long to answer, I’ve been mostly off Tumblr for a little while. I saw this some time ago at 3AM and thought “this deserves a more coherent response than I can give right now” and then forgot that this blog existed for several days.

That said, I absolutely have some advice for reading! I was a big reader as a kid, too, and I’ve recently had to re-discover reading after a long gap in any time spent sitting down with an honest-to-goodness book. There are a number of things you might consider!

DISTRACTIONS

First and foremost, recognize the reason it is difficult to read! For me, it is because reading isn’t the most interesting thing available. That doesn’t mean I don’t love reading! If I can manage to sit down and read a book, it is immensely satisfying - but it’s the satisfaction of the effort you put into something paying off. My favorite hobbies - drawing, writing, reading - are my favorite because of that sense of accomplishment that they give me. 

I love the feeling of holding a book and watching my bookmark move through the pages each time I set it down. However, it doesn’t give me the same instant gratification of reading wikipedia, or tvtropes, or scrolling Tumblr, or checking notifications on social media; even when I am unsatisfied, or even frustrated, with the internet, it can be very hard to put down. I know that people will tell you all the time “You need to put your phone down more!!” It gets old. But they have a point. What people don’t tell you is how to do that. 

For me, that tends to be about making it inconvenient for myself to get online, or do whatever is distracting me. This doesn’t necessarily mean making it completely unavailable. The distraction just needs to be less available than the task I want to do. I am the kind of person who gets online out of muscle memory, and then gets stuck there. Thus, many of my tricks rely on disrupting the muscle memory that lets you pick up distractions. I will put my laptop charger in another room, so that my screen time is limited to its battery life. I might tie a string around my laptop, or tape it closed, so when I go to open it I will be reminded “Oh yeah, I don’t want to do this right now.” I will occasionally rearrange the apps on my phone, so when I try to open Instagram and end up with the weather app instead, the thought of “wait, how did i get here” will snap me out of the thoughtless habits that led me to pick up my phone in the first place. I’ve even gone so far as to tape my phone to the ceiling. Whatever works.

If the weather permits, I might also walk a little ways down the block and find somewhere to sit and read. This can come with its own distractions, but it gets me away from my laptop, and I get a tiny bit more exercise and sunshine than I would have otherwise! This depends, of course, on whether you have transportation and whether you feel safe. But getting yourself out of the house can be a great way to get away from the things that would otherwise draw you away from reading. If you have a local cafe or library that permits you to sit and stay, those are also great options! I will bring my phone when I leave the house, but I might put it at the bottom of my bag, or put a bit of scotch tape over the power button, so that I have my phone in case of emergency but it’s just slightly inconvenient to get to without thinking about it.

It may not be the internet distracting you. But whatever the distraction is, it doesn’t need to be less compelling than reading. It just needs to be less readily available than your book is!

ENTHUSIASM

Another thing that prevents me from reading is that it often doesn’t have the same sense of urgency that other tasks might, whether that urgency is real or not. Give yourself a time limit! I may own books I haven’t read yet, but I will get to a book sooner if I have borrowed it from the library, because I know there is a deadline to return it! 

You can also get other people involved. If you have a friend who wants to read the same book, commit to a chapter or two a week and then call to discuss it. 

Or, if you have a friend who would be interested, and you are comfortable with your reading voice, you could read to someone! It might feel weird to offer, but you’d be surprised how many people really do enjoy being read to. If you both have time in your schedules, you could try to set up a regular call to get through a few chapters at a time. 

Generally, having a friend who likes the book is great for maintaining enthusiasm, even if they’re not reading it with you - I get to books faster if someone with similar taste says “This is one of my favorites! You would love it!” If you have a friend who has read the book you plan on reading, announce to them that you intend on reading it. Their enthusiasm might help you feel more compelled to read it, and there’s a good chance that if you don’t sit down and read it, they will remind you by asking “Have you read it yet? What do you think?” the next time you talk to them.

PREPARATION

Another great way to make reading easier is to set up a reading space beforehand. It’s one thing to pick up a book and say “I’ve been meaning to read this.” It’s another thing to put on some pajama pants, make a cup of tea, and curl a soft blanket around your shoulders before you settle down to read. For one thing, it’s just nice. But more importantly, it can function as a signal that tells your brain “it is Reading Time now. We are in the Reading Zone.”

Do you ever watch a TV show or listen to a podcast, and you let the theme song play on the first episode, and then skip it for the rest? Even if I’ve watched a show before, I will play the theme song on the first episode I watch that day. It’s the same principle - it serves as a transition, an intro that says “this is where I am now, and this is what I’m doing.” Give yourself an intro for reading! Have a certain spot that you like to sit when you read. Have a certain snack you eat beforehand.

I have all kinds of tasks with little “rituals” before them that help me focus on that task, or certain items that I interact with which I associate with it. I call them “declarations of intent,” and once I’ve made a declaration it’s easier to commit to it. Sometimes that means simply saying out loud, “I am going to do the laundry now.” Sometimes it means I wear a certain shirt if I’m planning to go for a walk that day, or drink from a certain mug at breakfast if I want to get some homework done. I have a specific hat that I put on when I want to write a certain character. Try to find something you can do to act as a cue that says “When I do this, then I will read a book.” Because of this, it can help to really lean into whatever the “aesthetic” of reading is, in your mind. Embrace a reading atmosphere!

It may also help to recognize that reading is something you can work your way up to! There is no shame in being out of practice with a hobby. I took my reading proficiency for granted for a long time because it was just a part of my life. It may help to think of reading as a skill! Start with something smaller and work your way up. Pick up a book of short stories or folktales before you tackle that six-book series you’ve heard good things about! Set achievable goals for yourself when you’re setting out. An early success can make a huge difference to morale, and it’s much better to start “too easy” and accomplish something than to jump in at the deep end and be frustrated by an early setback.

FORGIVENESS

On the topic of working your way up to things, I would like to say a word about mindset. It is easy to feel self-critical about things. Things that you think should come more easily to you. Things that you feel like you have no reason not to be able to do. One of the biggest things I’ve done for my ADHD is recognizing that there is always a reason why I behave a certain way. Accepting that allows me to actually address my struggles, rather than just feeling ashamed of them. I’ve had to accept that I won’t always do things that I set out to do the way I set out to do them.

I bring this up because not all of my advice here may work for you. In fact, some of it doesn’t work for me every time - a technique may work once, but I might fail to make a regular habit of it. I may make a regular habit of something, only to have it become less effective as the novelty of it, or my enthusiasm for it, wears off. I may eventually talk myself out of implementing an effective strategy because there is some part of it that I find unpleasant; or an intentional unpleasantness I once found motivating may eventually become intolerable.

That’s okay. I’m telling you now, it’s okay if that happens. It’s okay if the first method you try doesn’t work. Don’t set yourself up to feel frustrated. If you become frustrated, take a step back. If you borrow a library book and you still haven’t read it by the due date, just give it back. If you don’t actually enjoy the first book you pick up, put it down and try a different one. If you feel badly about not reading something your friend wants you to read, be honest and tell them you have a hard time sitting down, and that you don’t want to disappoint them if they keep asking, but that you will let them know once you have started it!

It can be easy to convince myself that feeling badly about something means it’s important to me, and that maybe if I feel bad about not doing something, it  motivate me to do it. There is a balance between making commitments, and not committing to anything that is just going to distress me. Sometimes there is a benefit to a sense of pressure, but I have to recognize when the pressure I create turns into frustration. That’s a fine line to walk! For all I speak of inconveniencing yourself, or holding yourself accountable, your strategies should ultimately feel satisfying, and show results fairly quickly! You may not see immediate results, but if it has been several days and your strategy isn’t working out, change tactics! And the moment you feel apologetic or ashamed about the thing you are trying to do, drop that strategy. Again, this can be easier said than done, but it is so worthwhile to learn how to allow yourself to “give up” on things that aren’t actually helping you, without feeling like you’re giving up entirely.

You want to get back into reading again because you want to enjoy reading again. If you set it up to feel like homework, or a chore, or an obligation, you may make it more difficult for yourself! Getting back into reading is about focusing on what you love about reading.

And hey, I’m always happy to help! I do only check Tumblr every couple weeks right now, but I’ll do what I can to be supportive. If you’ve tried these suggestions and they don’t work out, no worries! Everyone is different, and it’s no insult to me if things that work for me don’t work for you. But feel free to reach out again, let me know anything you have learned about how you function best in the meantime, and we can reevaluate your strategies!

I hope that helps! Happy reading!

[jamilelucato]

warning [G.W.]

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Words: 3.362

Requested: yes

I personally like the idea of George with an outcast Slytherin who’s friends with the other houses

Summary: George has a crush on a Slytherin girl that doesn’t seem as evil as his twin think she is.

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this one and I actually liked it? A lot? I don’t know why I’m using question marks, I’m just genuinely surprised. MY GIF!

+ (y/h/c) is “your hair colour” and (y/e/c) is “your eye colour”

George Weasley always thought y/N y/L/N was attractive. The first time he saw her, he was up in his broom, about to play Quidditch against Slytherin, and his eyes just locked with hers, even though she was far away.

She was sitting in the bleachers with a very green t-shirt, screaming, although George couldn't hear her. She seemed excited, her (y/h/c) hair swaying all around.

After that match — that Gryffindor won, much to y/N's disappointment — he knew he had to find you around the school. At first, he didn't believe you were a Slytherin. He only saw you two times after the first time he saw you, and both of those times you were not wearing a uniform, but talking to Hufflepuffs, so he just concluded that you were just friends with one of the Slytherin's players, instead of from that house yourself.

It was only when Fred, his twin, walked in the common room, complaining, that he found out the truth.

"I can't believe it! How dare that stupid snake...!" Fred walked in shouting, not caring if anyone there was listening. "Stupefy me! How dare she!"

George decided to ask his brother what was happening since he didn't see Fred that shaken in a very long time.

"A stupid girl from Slytherin stupefied me! In front of everyone!" outcried his twin, sitting down next to George.

"Who?" George asked, no longer interested in his homework. Not that he ever was, to begin. "Why?"

"I don't recall her name... she's that weird one, shy. From the fifth year," Fred said, struggling to remember something remarkable about the girl, "she has (y/h/c) hair and (y/e/c) eyes."

Fred had to say no more; George immediately knew who he meant. It could only be her if he could recognise you just with some words. He wouldn't have described you as weird, but he understood that, given the circumstances, his brother would have never complimented you.

"She's a Slytherin?" George asked, still surprised. He didn't know your name — that was a problem he still had to figure out — but knowing you were a Slytherin made things a little easier.

Except it didn't. A Slytherin? George fancied a girl from the worst house, a girl that now had attacked his twin? He couldn't believe it.

"Haven't you heard what I just said?" Fred was slowly calming down. "Anyway, I was there, you know, offering our newest product for the kids — and you know, it wasn't even for her!"

George was trying hard to follow his brother's explanation and picture you in the middle of the scene.

"And the instant the Ravenclaw little boy ate it, of course, as we planned, he started turning yellow, but like, really yellow, and she just snapped!" Fred continued, gesturing with his hands now and then. "She asked me to reverse it, but I said the spell would eventually go away naturally. She didn't like it; she took out her wand and stupefied me! I didn't have time to do anything!"

George stared at his brother, shocked with what he had just heard. The girl from his dreams, attacking his brother just because of a little joke, and she was a Slytherin. The day was already bad because he hadn't seen you, but now, it was worse.

"George, say something," Fred called his brother attention.

"Huh? Fred, are you sure there wasn't something more?" he asked, not wanting to picture you as the bad guy. "Did you force the boy to eat it?"

"What? No, I'd never, brother!" Fred answered, getting up. "Doesn't matter, I'll never sell things around the Sytherins's common room door. Too dangerous."

Fred left, complaining to everyone he found in his way about the Slytherin girl, but George stayed on the couch, still surprised with the new information he had just got. What would he do now? At least, he was glad it was just a crush, and he could manage to get over it since he even didn't know your name.

He would manage. Yeah.

***

Oh boy, was George wrong!

Trying to forget about you was one of the hardest things he had ever tried doing. Firstly, because Fred didn't stop whining to him about you — he couldn't get over the spellcasting — and he wanted to plan a prank against you. Secondly, because, now that he knew where to find you, around the Slytherins, he seemed to see your face more and more, all over the school.

Fred was the one that found your name out, much to George's worries. Having a face was hard to get over, but having a name to the face was ten times harder.

"y/N y/L/N," Fred said, before sitting down, forcing George to diverge his eyes from you, sitting at the other side of the room.

"What?"

"The Slytherin girl we're goin' to prank. That's her name. Angelina just told me," explained Fred, filling his plate with everything offered for breakfast.

"Do we have to?" George just wanted to get over you, and the only way he was going to be able to do that was forgetting about your existence, and Fred made it more arduous.

"Do I need to remind you—"

"— that she stupefied you," George interrupted his brother, tired of hearing about it, "Yeah, I know it."

"We all know it," added Ron. "You know, for someone who hated being defeated by a girl, you do a horrible job at hiding it. Look at Malfoy, he doesn't tell everyone about the time Hermione punched him."

"I wasn't defeated!" shouted Fred, stuffing his mouth with food.

But the table didn't seem convinced.

***

Y/N was playing gobstones in the yard when George caught her eye. He seemed to be doing it a lot lately, and she could imagine what was coming for her. Probably Fred and George's worst revenge prank ever.

However, she didn't look away. She let her eyes stare into George's, wondering how long would they both be able to hold it.

Her Hufflepuff friend called her name, but she didn't break the eye contact, because she felt deeply curious. She was sure that it was George and not Fred because Fred wouldn't have been able to read her so well as the other twin was doing. He wasn't angry; he didn't look at her like he wanted her dead. Instead, his stare seemed to send chills all over y/N's body, and she wondered why.

"y/N? Are you still there?" her friend called again, "'cause I just won."

You shook your head.

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked, finally breaking the eye contact with George.

"Never mind," sighed the friend, knowing it was a lost cause to wait for y/N's attention when she was spacing out like that.

***

"Ok, so listen," Fred started, jumping in George's bed just before they went to sleep. "I want to give y/N a taste of her own medicine."

George had to blink a couple of times before focusing on his twin.

"You will stupefy her?"

"Exactly!" Fred was happy that his twin understood him so fast.

"How are you gonna do it though?" George asked, supporting his back in the headboard.

"Well, I was planning to corner her after dinner tomorrow," his twin was talking a lot excited about his idea as if he had spent the whole day thinking about it.

Fred went on about how he had noticed that you were generally the last to leave the feast — George had observed it too. It appeared that you had a lot of friends in other houses but was never brave enough to approach them when their house table was full, so you waited for it to get less crowded before sitting down with your friends.

George tried to persuade his brother to give up — it appeared to be too much work just to revenge on a girl that was trying to defend a Ravenclaw — but Fred didn't want to give up. And so, they went to bed with it all planned, but George couldn't sleep.

He kept on thinking that he should warn you about it, and if that was the case, then he needed to talk to you, and that was going to be a test to his anxiety.

***

At breakfast in the next day, George kept staring at you, waiting for something to happen, some situation that would force you two to talk, but that never happened.

He thought he would be able to talk to you during classes, but he was a year older than you, so the chances of you two meeting were practically zero. He had to get his ass to follow you and corner you himself.

The only problem was: he didn't think he was brave enough for that.

Nonsense! You are in Gryffindor for a reason, he thought, before breathing hard and gathering the nerves to find you.

Once classes were over, he had some free minutes without his brother — with the excuse of going to the restroom before dinner.

He wandered around, taking ten minutes to find you.

You were sitting in the yard, with a bunch of other students around and you all talked excitedly. George noticed that only you were a Slytherin; the rest of the group were Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, and there was even a boy from Gryffindor — he recognized it to be Neville, a friend of Ron.

He swallowed, feeling each nerve ending tingle. Warn you was the right thing to do but did he have to? You knew how to defeat his brother the first time — perhaps you could do it a second time.

But then, there was no escape. Your gaze met his since George was still standing across the yard. He thought that you mistook him initially, or at least that's what it looked like since you stared at him angrily.

Gently, your expression relaxed, and George hoped it meant that you knew he was him, not Fred. He scratched his head as he walked towards you.

"y/N, I'm sorry to disturb, but..." George felt his cheeks turning red as he spoke, "could I talk to you for a minute? In private?"

You looked around, at your friends, who seemed to care less about George's presence and agreed to talk to him.

"What's it?" you asked, keeping your voice low even though you two had walked away from your group of friend.

"I wanted to warn you about my brother, Fred," started George, diverging from your eyes, scared that he would not be able to tell everything if he kept looking into your (y/e/c) eyes. "He wants to stupefy you after dinner."

You looked distrusted at him.

"Why should I believe you?"

George sighed. "I wouldn't lie about this. Unlike my twin, I don't think you deserve his revenge.," he said, still avoiding her eyes. "I feel like you were just protecting your friend, I don't think you wanted to hurt Fred."

"You don't?" she asked, her eyes sparkling as his eyes met hers.

It felt as if they were looking at each other for the first time. The chills were there, this time stronger, if possible. George's red hair fell in front of his eyes, and y/N had to resist the urge to reach it.

His eyes wandered over all her body; for the first time in years, that didn't make her feel self-conscious. If anything, she liked knowing he was contemplating her. Seeing the smile that appeared in his lips only made her like it even more.

"You don't think I was just mean to your brother?" you asked again. "I am a Slytherin, after all."

"Do you want me to think you were just a bad girl?" George replied, raising a brow. Although it was supposed to be a rude question, y/N could only think how hot it was to have George calling her bad girl.

"No, 'course!" you quickly said. "I'm glad your first thought was that I was defending my friend," you played with your hair, nervously, and that caused George to feel a different kind of excitement he was not expecting. "Toby is a first-year Ravenclaw, but I know him since he was a baby — our moms are friends."

George raised his brows and pressed his lips together, absorbing the information.

Y/N couldn't be evil if you were friends with all houses and probably was your mom. That made his heart warm. He could like you. Not only he could, he already did. Who was he kidding? Even with his twin complaining at his ear, George kept fancying you.

"Well," he faked coughed, "that was what I came to tell you. I have to go before Fred thinks something is wrong."

You agreed, shaking your head up and down as he walked away, but you couldn't just move. George could be gone, but now you had to think of a way to protect yourself.

***

Fred and George waited, even when Angelina, Ron, Lee and Harry had left. They stayed sat, pretending to be still eating. The Great Hall wasn't completely empty when y/N finally got up from the Hufflepuff table and headed out.

"Are you sure about it, Freddie?" George asked as he and the twin got up.

"It will be simple, and it won't hurt her, just humiliate, like she made me feel," Fred said, and George wondered if he said that to convince his brother or to convince himself.

Although George watched you every minute of his day and he felt like he knew you better than Fred, his older twin had spent some time watching you as well, and it seemed that your shyness and kindness could have melted his heart.

They walked out to find y/N leaning against one of the pillars to the left of Hall's big door.

"Looking for me, Weasleys?" you used the plural, in a way to protect George for his confidential.

Fred worked fast, his wand was already in his hand as he cast "Stupefy!" but y/N was faster. "Depulso!" she shouted.

Fred got thrown meters away from y/N and his brother, and only your laugh George heard as students that we're walking away from the Great Hall came closer to take a look.

Professor Snape walked out of the Hall at the same moment Fred got up, pointing his wand to y/N.

"You, three!" Snape shouted angrily. "Detention!"

"But, Professor," George tried to intervene.

"I don't want to hear, Mr Weasley," interrupted Snape and then he faced y/N. "You, Miss y/L/N, I'm greatly disappointed."

"I'm sorry, Professor Snape, I didn't mean to hurt Fred Weasley..." you explained, lying a bit, as you lowered your face.

But Snape continued: "Next time, don't get caught."

And the Professor left, leaving y/N to exchange confused looks with the twins.

"Was he glad that I hurt you?" you asked, looking at Fred who tried to fix his clothes.

"You didn't' hurt me!" he debated, but y/N ignored.

She was now facing George, who didn't know what to say. Everything had happened so fast, George was still processing it.

"See you at detention, then," y/N said, sighing.

George almost raised his hand to wave her good-bye, but he remembered his brother was watching everything, and he was not supposed to know about his crush.

***

The night of detention had arrived.

George had spent all his time since the confrontation trying to be apart from his twin, so he could meet you in the corridors and maybe exchange a word. But every time he saw you, you seemed to be having fun with your friends, and he with Fred.

Fred appeared to have learned his lesson, and he didn't show any intentions of revenge. He hadn't told anyone about the confrontation that went wrong, and that was a first. George was glad — he believed it meant his brother wasn't so angry at you.

You three met at Professor Minerva's office, and she didn't seem happy about it. She was used to the boys getting detention, but y/N's presence was a first.

"Well, now that all of you are here, let me assign your jobs," she said, walking around the room. "I can't let you two together, as I've learned, but I don't have three assignments..." McGonagall was working hard to think of a solution. "Did you three fight, or was it just two?"

"It was me and Fred, Professor," you answered, happy to be useful since you were sad of having disappointed more than one teacher already.

Professor McGonagall exchanged looks with Fred and y/N.

"Then, y/N, you and George go to the trophy room, to clean them out. I believe Mr Filch has left a set of cleaning gadgets for you there," she started, "now, you, Mr Weasley, come with me."

George waved his brother good-bye as he and y/N walked away from the room.

"Do think Filch will be there watching us?" you asked, trying to make conversation, "He always gives me the creeps."

"In the way McGonagall spoke, I don't think he will," George said, almost touching your arm as you two took a turn to find the trophy room.

When you got there, you two started focused, cleaning everything with attention. Neither seemed ready to talk, although George had no idea what to talk about with you.

"So, huh, I forgot to thank you," you said, raising your head from the trophy to find George's face in the middle of the room. "For tipping me about Fred."

"No problem," George said, looking to find your face as well. "To be fair, it was quite nice seeing his face when you sent him away."

"He wasn't mad, was he?" you asked, worried.

"Oh, he was," George said, without thinking. He, then, noticed your concerned face, "but I think he will stay away from you from now on."

You tilted your head as you slowly came closer to him. It was involuntary; you felt the gravity pulling you two closer.

"He acknowledges you are a powerful witch, I guess."

You giggled, tossing a lock of hair behind your ear. George's eyes followed the lock's trajectory — he noticed he grew fond of your hair.

"And you?" you asked, with a coy smile.

"Me?" George gulped, tilting his head in your direction.

"Do you acknowledge I'm a powerful witch?" you used of his words as you fluttered your eyelashes at him.

"I never doubted it," answered George, staring deep into your eyes, and embracing the flirtatious atmosphere that you two were walking in.

It was your time to feel a bit embarrassed. Could he be speaking the truth? You wondered.

"You're a powerful wizard yourself, George," you replied, biting your lip, causing him to focus on your mouth. And now he was staring at it, George didn't want to stop. He wanted to have it, and so, he decided to go for it.

He slowly leaned in, as you gulped nervously. His lips met yours, soft at first. A delicate encounter, but then, a rush — you both wanted more. His hands found their way around your body, and fastly he raised you and positioned you sitting on the available table, as one of your hands tossed aside the trophies that were on it — they all fell to the floor.

Your left hand found his hair, and you didn't want to take it out of there. He seemed to like the touch as well because he started biting, softly, your lips, and that send shivers all around your body.

He was about to lay you down on the table when the door opened, surprising you two.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! Break it, now!" shouted an angry Professor McGonagall, and you felt your face get redder than George's hair.

Behind her, Fred was having the time of his life — he couldn't stop laughing.

"I didn't know detention could be fun!" he said, winning an angry frown from his twin.

You and George stared at each other embarrassed, but most of all, regretting getting caught. But that didn't seem like that would be the last time.

[babybatscreationsv2]

Here it is! No warnings for this fic besides mentions of bullying and nff content

Peter was anxious about the party, but he thought he hid it well. Ned was so excited and despite everything they suffered at school he seemed confident. Why Ned wanted to go to this party, Peter didn't fully understand. They were only going to get mocked and bullied until they finally ran out the door. Tony Stark had never actually bullied Peter, himself, but some of his friends had. He didn't imagine they were truly welcome despite what Ned thought.

The house was huge. Like, as big as their actual high school, huge. The music was loud enough to be heard outside. The driveway was littered with expensive cars that made it clear the kind of people Tony was friends with. Ned parked his beater at the bottom of the driveway where there was room. They walked up, passing a few kids who stood chatting and vaping beside a yellow Ferrari.

Inside wasn't as packed as Peter pictured in his mind, but the house was still crowded with teens. Most were talking and drinking things that were probably illegal. A few were dancing, but they seemed to already be drunk. At the center of the living room was Tony, sitting on the back of the couch while everyone piled around him. They were all laughing at a story he was telling. Peter couldn't help but stop and stare and imagine that Tony actually wanted him to be there.

"I'm gonna go get us drinks," Ned called over the music.

"What? No," Peter turned his head but his friend was already gone. He sighed. No way was he drinking anything in this house. It was all definitely spiked and eighteen was not exactly drinking age.

A few more people came in which left Peter to drift away from this new group. He choked on the smell of cotton candy vapor.

"Parker, right?" someone said behind him.

Peter jumped and turned around. Everyone was looking at him. He wasn't sure why until he realized, it was Tony who had spoken. Tony Stark who's father owned one of the most important tech companies in the world, who sat wearing his letterman jacket in the school colors as if they didn't know how important he was to the football team.

"Uh, yeah. That's me." Peter winced as he heard himself studder.

Tony smiled. Peter's heart skipped. "Why don't you sit beside me. I've been meaning to get the chance to talk to you."

"Really?" Peter stepped onto the arm of the couch as someone move aside for him. He could feel them all staring, some glaring, as he sat down.

"Yeah really. I saw your science fair project about nano technology applications. My dad doesn't believe nanotech will take off, but thought we could bounce around ideas some time. Show the old man up."

Peter smiled. Tony had this glitter in his eye like science was something naughty. Maybe in a house like his, it is. "I'd love to." He was definitely blushing and it was definitely embarrassing.

"Great!" Tony put a hand on his knee and Peter went warm all over. He left it there as he turned back to his friends and started telling them another story. Peter assumed the hand on his knee meant he was expected to stay and hang out.

Across the room he saw Ned with their drinks. He stared with giant eyes. Peter shrugged at him, but the look he got from Ned meant he was okay with Peter being there.

After a while, Peter started to settle in. Tony was cool and he told cool stories and he was genuinely funny. Peter couldn't stop looking at him face. Sometimes Tony met his eye and Peter swore something changed in his expression but that had to be wishful thinking. And then Flash got to talking about his summer trip to Brazil. Tony looked at him more than he looked at Flash. Halfway through the story, Tony leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"Wanna go find something more interesting to do?"

Peter blushed and he was pretty sure that blush went all the way down into his toes. He nodded and Tony smiled. He turned around and hopped off the back of the couch. Peter turned and did the same, hoping he looked half as cool. A few people looked like they intended to follow, then they looked at Peter and sat back down. He wasn't sure what to make of that.

Tony led him upstairs toa huge second floor that seemed to be off limits for the party.

"This is my room," he said, opening a door. He turned on the light and they stepped into a room as big as Peter's apartment. He tried not to look impressed, because that probably wouldn't be cool. "I thought we could enjoy some time just us."

"You wanna talk about nano tech?"

Tony laughed, but it was a gentle, fond, sound rather than the mockery he was used to. The other boy was in his space. His hand came up to touch the back of his neck, his body caged him in against the door. Peter sighed, pleasure zigging through him as Tony kissed him. He was way too hard way too fast and it probably wasn't even cool to get hard just from kissing, but he was. He loved the heat of Tony's hand on his neck, the way his kisses were firm and slow like he was savoring him. Peter's hand held his arm, but the other dangled at his side because he didn't know what to do with it. Then Tony took Peter's hand and slipped it under his shirt were he pressed it against Tony's bare chest.

Peter moaned. He was so hot and solid and so much desire went rocketing through him that he lost control. He pushed Tony back, turning him so he hit the wall. Tony looked surprised, then turned on, and they went back to kissing, but now it was hungry and needy. Peter slid his hands all over, feeling his chest, his neck, his arms. The second Tony tugged Peter's jacket in question, Peter answered by pulling off Tony's jacket for him.

Moving in a dizzying circle, they undressed each other, both of them tripping at least once before the reached the bed. Peter was stripped down to his underwear, while Tony had on nothing but a t-shirt.

Peter sat on the edge of the bed and watch Tony pull of his shirt with a cocky grin. "Top or bottom?" he asked.

Peter thought about it. "I've only ever topped before, but I can... I mean I'm sure you would rather..."

Tony kissed away the anxiety. "It's okay, whatever you're more comfortable with."

"I uh..." Peter chewed his lip, looking at Tony's face.

"I'd love to see your riding my cock," he winked. "but it's up to you."

That sounded really fucking good. Peter nodded. "Perfect, that's so good," he babbled and didn't even have the mind to be embarrassed about it.

"Great." Tony leaned over him and kissed his neck. Peter's knees bent, thighs pulling him in. They kissed, slowly turning over so Peter was on top, Tony laying back in the pillows.

One condom and some lube later, Peter was gritting his teeth trying to take too much too fast. Tony's hands held his hips.

"Just take it slow, don't rush it. It won't feel good if you take too much at once."

Peter took his advice and slowed down. Tony up enough to kiss him, distracting until he was fully seated and then longer until it wasn’t painful. When he felt ready, he started to slow roll his hips. The sound Tony made, had Peter shivering.

"Fuck, that's good, baby, you're so tight." He kissed him until he couldn't, until Peter was going too fast to allow it. It was actual bliss to look down at Tony's Stark's beautiful face, beautiful body, his cock perfect inside him. He didn't think it could get better until Tony spit into his hand and started to stroke Peter's cock.

"Gonna cum for me, Peter?"

"Fuck yeah," he moaned. He rolled his hips into Tony's hand then back on his cock. He was so close and felt so good, better than anything he'd ever had.

"Yeah, gonna make me cum, too, you feel so good." There was a shine on his lip like he was drooling, his eyes so deep and dark.

Peter cried out, fingers scratching Tony's shoulders, cum making a mess of his hand and his belly. He kept going, only slowing for a moment, determined to be a fuck worth the locker room talk.

"Fuck, Peter," he moaned. His eyes fluttered shut. His fucking O face was as unfairly beautiful as the rest of him and Peter commited it to memory 'cause he was gonna jack off to it for the rest of his life.

He figured Tony would be done with him after that, but instead he cleaned them up with some tissues and pulled Peter down beside him. He wrapped an arm around him and kissed him slow and sweet until Peter felt hazy, ready to fall asleep in his arms. He was still floating and content some time later when Tony got out of bed and got dressed. He left Peter with a quick kiss and his phone number on a torn in half tissue.