#they will find someone to blame for their circumstance because its not normal to live like this

[hungee-boy]

honestly if you live in a blue state and can afford a decent home and all your meds/food/utilities i want to hear NOTHING in regards to us in red states

i live in greg abbott's red texas. you know, the largest state that borders the most vilified neighboring country and receives the majority of latino immigrants + has a huge black population + a lot of arab and asian immigrants

i will not tolerate blame put on the people in red states who are constantly harassed and belittled because of their race, origin, religion, gender, and economic status

you want someone to blame? blame your party who did nothing to get people out of poverty, did nothing in response to police violence and killings, did nothing for palestine/lebanon, did nothing in response to abbott and desantis' vitriolic anti-latino racism and policies

democrats did what they do best, follow the right-leaning trend and lose to republicans

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Since day one in Aaru village, your life has become... less difficult, to say the least. Since that fateful night where Candace had brought you under her care, the elders of the village became aware that your presence could have brought problems and that the other archons would clam up your head and the lives of the villagers as punishment for the crime of hiding the "imposter". But Candace was adamant about the matter: you were nothing but a victim of some circumstances, and the village would have not turned its head to the other side on a travaller in need of help.

Dehya, besides being one of the few who wanted you far away from there, decided to follow Candace in her judgment. Not because she feared that glim of protectiveness that she showed to you, but because, after all, there was truth in her words. You were fragile, a flower that was supposed to burn under the scorching sun.

She never understood the protector, and then something changed.

Maybe it was that, despite what others from other nations said, you never actually claimed to be the Creator or something. Y/n, such a simple name—so human. Why would someone who could easily make people believe that they are indeed the creator, the allmighty, the one who rules their world just go around without even thinking about that possibility?

Maybe it was that gleam in your eyes? The one that wandered over the desert, seeing it as a place full of wonders and adventure, but still respected it, not taking it as a mere desolated pile of sand?

Maybe it was the fact that, every day, you greeted Candace with a smile that could even compare to the sun while trying to sound nice even to her, despite how harshly you were with her at the beginning? Maybe it was your laugh while plaing with the children, taking care of them, helping people around...

Maybe it was something around each of these suggestions, but she could even understand that questioning gaze when she politely asked you to just sit on a cushion with a brush in her hand.

"...W-why..."

"Well, firstly, because I noticed that your ingested harm can't even take care of your basic needs...and because I thought it could be a nice gesture..."

She felt waves of embarrassment clashing with her. It was a stupid idea, but she honestly thought that could ease your mind! She likes taking care of her own hair; it makes her head less heavy!

"I-I...forget it, it was a stupid i-"

"NO! No, no, it's not... I would love to, really!"

There was a slight chance that, maybe, that was more an act of politeness than the actual desire to spend some quality time with her, but it was something, right?

You never thought that Dehya was harsh or aggressive. Well, she was in battle with her enemies, but she was usually protective of the people for whom she genuinely cared. Her hand massaged calmly on your scal, the brush caressed gently on your length, and her nails were so gentle on our skin. It was relaxing. I remember a nice moment when someone who cared for you treated you this way. You could swear that you heard Dehya humming something behind her sealed lips.

"You right, it feels nice."

"It does? I'm glad then, but don't think I'll do this often; I'm still needed around here, you know"?"

"Y-yeah..."

Another thing came to our minds. It was more of a question that, in the end, was a normal thought that wanted to come out of your mind. Your finger is scratching the skin of your opposites, catching a Dehya face connected to some small knots in your hair.

"You're not forced to be nice to me."

She stopped all of a sudden. A strange questioning look on her face was facing your own.

"I know that I can be troubled. That's why Candace is working to find me a new home! I just thought that if you want to avoid me, I'm not blaming you!"

"Cut it."

It was more of a growl than a request. Her eyes turned a fierce one, yet she remained composed on her seat, reaching with her free hand for our arm.

"If I hadn't wanted to be here, then you wouldn't have seen me at all. I'm not nice with you by force; I'm nice because I want to."

Her grip wasn't painful at all; it felt comforting, but not as much as her words. Then a small blush appeared on her cheekbone, and she started to scrawl with her other hand, the brush still in her hand.

"You have it hard. I must say you are pretty much stronger than you believe. I never met someone who could be this nice after all the hell they've been through. So..."

Another thing you learned was that Dehya wasn't the girl you thought she was—she was even better.

[nieded]

Hi! Not an ask, more like a confession. I just really felt compelled to tell you that #RainbowRoad is the absolute best fan-created work i’ve ever engaged with, and i’ve been a fan of many things! You are an amazing storyteller.

I also felt compelled to reach out because my friends & family are perplexed. I am perplexed. Primarily because:

1. I started watching DTS. Excellent. Normal for me to try on a new Netflix show….mostly. But is it really? Sports? Me?

2. I casually check out streaming options for the real deal, because you know, i’m curious, and oh! Would you look at that…it’s almost the end of fall break….

3. I subscribe and what’s this….I am absorbing F1. Like i’ve been starved for a sport to enjoy my whole life. Replays. Free practice. Fuckin Tech Talk.

4. Suddenly, I’ve watched 3 seasons of DTS and a disturbing amount of F1 content and it’s COTA Sunday and i’m on the couch, surrounded by snacks, insisting that we have to watch the WHOLE qualifying session not just the highlights because we need to get a feel for everyone’s headspace going into the race.

5. Post-COTA; We have decided Sainz is our driver to watch. I’m also really intrigued by McLaren rn someone pls help. We’re shouting as we watch live as Ferrari pulls a 1-2 and wow. When’s the next race?

6. Mexico City. MEXICO CITY. Sainz has been our man now for 10 days and forever. I suppose i’ll have to dedicate myself to Williams next season but I feel conflicted about that and WHY do I have an OPINION on that already. Who am I? Also can I watch the whole race again just tuned into Russel’s radio? Did he really ask mid-race for tea on Verstappen’s timeout? You don’t have to answer either of those questions i’m probably going look that up as soon as I finish writing you this manic soliloquy.

I’m not saying that you’re to blame for this complex crisis of identity happening over here, i’m really not. I just….I know the difference by now when i’m transfixed by something that’ll surely pass and…well…when I find something that compels me to sit tight & take hold.

On second thought, yeah. From one internet stranger to another, this is your fault.

And i’m enjoying every second of it. ♥️🏎️♥️

P.S. If there is going to be another #rainbowroad story I will be more excited about that than I am about GO3. This summer has been hard and engaging with your work has made it so much less so. Thank you ♥️🏎️♥️

hello! thank you sooooo much. i'm excited that you've gotten so into f1.

couple of things:

1 - i love carlos. he is my favorite himbo. he is so dumb sometimes. all that boy knows how to do is drive but damn does he drive well! i have felt for a long time that he's a sleeper agent. he just goes under the radar. you should look up the circumstances of his first few podiums. some of his biggest achievements have been afterthoughts, sidelined by other drama in f1. for example, when he did all those crazy overtakes during the sprint race and ended up in p2, nobody was talking about it at all! drove me nuts. it is such a sainz thing to be winning races and still losing his seat at ferrari.

2 - williams is worth being a fan of. they are one of the most historic teams and are wccs! i know that's strange to think if you're coming into the sport now, but there are many, many reasons to love williams. the other cool thing about the team is their principal, james vowles, was part of brawn gp. since you're diving into dts, i highly recommend watching brawn gp on amazon prime. you will also develop a love for jensen button.

also, i'm sorry your summer has been hard, and i am glad i could shine some light for you. my summer also was rough, and i still feel like i am recovering. i do have a story in the pipeline. it's still very much in its early development so i don't know if i will write it, but it does exist in my head!

[assiraphales]

if someone from china or russia made a similar post for their country that'd be just as good. good for them, good for them for finding joy in the little things and for seeking beauty in this world of ours. can people just be normal. the kremlin is actively committing war crimes, the administration in beijing is horrible, the us government seems to hate its citizens etc. but what should one random person, who's just trying to make it through the day, do? should we all live in misery and think about nothing but doom and hate all day? literally just be normal. sincearly, an eastern european

I also think it’s very humanizing to hear about the little things that people love. because so often it’s easy for people to group an entire population together and blindly hate. to blame the entire population for their governments misdeeds, as if a significant portion of them they are not also victims. ppl are ppl, no matter the circumstances.

[astrobolical]

When the truth spills forth-

Content Warnings: Pining, Alhaitham’s version of fluff, Kaveh’s obliviousness, mentions of their history

I wasn't sure if I was gonna post character x character, but here we go. Why not?

I adore these two, especially Kaveh, and think they deserve the world. We all know they’re married even if they don’t know it (Alhaitham does, Kaveh might not).

Living with one’s heart on their sleeve, laying their emotions bare for the world to see, it was something incomprehensible to Alhaitham. What benefits could it bring? What could it do but bring you troubles and eventual pain? Yet Kaveh was exactly that, brilliant, bright yet incredibly transparent. Almost unbearably.

His eyes told the world his truth, no matter what he tried to hide. It was tiresome to witness, Alhaitham could only imagine it was exhausting to exist in such a state. Kaveh persevered, however, regardless of how haphazard that perseverance was. Every step he took forward held the danger of tumbling back down the rocks he’d dragged himself from. He’d come so far, yet it was clear how much he was truly trying to balance, and the impact it had on the architect.

Alhaitham knew that their situation was only contributing to Kaveh’s unfortunate circumstances, for reasons far beyond the scribe’s control. No matter what he said or did, Kaveh would see the world in a vastly different way than himself. Alhaitham, contrary to his roommate’s belief, was happy with their arrangement. It had become his norm, an expectation to come home to Kaveh fussing over some new decoration, hearing his chastising and endless complaints. As blunt as Alhaitham was in return, it was never out of malice. 

He’d always cared about Kaveh, in his own way. Even in the past when they’d gone their separate ways— what he’d said had been the truth, spoken only to try to make Kaveh see reason, see how the way he was going would end in his detriment. Softened blows or flimsy words were not Alhaitham’s forte, he had always been brutally honest with Kaveh regardless of the consequences— perhaps more honest than he is with anybody else. 

While he could walk away from the majority of people within Sumeru without a second thought, Kaveh was someone who held a value he couldn’t measure. To Alhaitham Kaveh was something to ground him, keep him thinking, and surprise him at every turn. Kaveh was everything Alhaitham was not, just as he was everything Kaveh was not. A balance that was uniquely them. Something that couldn’t be replaced, something that Alhaitham had no desire to lose, even if Kaveh was blind to it.

Just like when he’d spoken his truth all those years ago, Alhaitham had been there again for Kaveh when he was needed. Despite the distance between them, the unyielding silence that had persisted. Alhaitham’s home had become Kaveh’s, despite his senior’s protests. Though it had begun as a way to keep his senior’s head above the proverbial water, Alhaitham had quickly come to adjust to their situation. Faster than anyone in Sumeru would likely believe given his reputation. 

The noises he would normally drown out were welcomed when they were Kaveh. His space being invaded was only okay when it was Kaveh. 

It was simply because it was Kaveh.

But he knew that if he voiced this to the architect he’d freeze. His mind would go into overdrive, working to its breaking point and creating problems that didn’t exist. He’d find a way to blame himself for a misfortune he didn’t cause. He’d burn away internally until he couldn’t withstand it anymore, succumbing to his own negativity and self doubt, and he, inevitably, would flee the situation in a vain attempt to make the situation ‘better’. 

So the scribe remained quiet about the way he felt, keeping his actions subtle, behind the scenes. He continued to chastise and speak bluntly with Kaveh as he always did-- just a tiny bit more forethought to his words so that he didn’t give Kaveh too much to think on.

In some ways, Kaveh was like a skittish desert fox. Eager, curious-- oddly adorable-- yet incredibly easy to frighten, startle or deter. 

If it was anyone else, Alhaitham would have declared them not worth his time and efforts, left them behind to continue their lives without him… but this wasn’t anyone else. 

So he lived, ignoring his growing affections, keeping the same distance that Kaveh seemed to need. When he’d find himself covering a sleeping Kaveh, passed out on his desk, with a blanket he resisted the urge to press a kiss to the top of his head, to indulge in the impulses he held deep down. Because if Kaveh knew, he feared that Kaveh would choose to leave. 

So when he returned home and was greeted with the sight of boxes in the entryway Alhaitham’s first reaction was fear. His normally rational mind, ever-calm and logical gave way to the feelings deep in his chest-- surely Kaveh hadn’t found a place so suddenly? Why? Alhaitham grit his teeth, his jaw clenched as he made his way by the boxes, he could hear Kaveh deeper within the house and he made his way there without a moment’s hesitation.

Kaveh’s room was in disarray, furniture moved about and out of place, the architect standing in the middle going through drawers that hadn’t been opened in months. “Kaveh?” He questioned, leaning in the doorway. His expression gave away nothing of his internal turmoil, stoic and calm as always.

“Oh.” Kaveh looked up, almost sheepishly as he looked around at the mess. “I didn’t think you’d be home so soon. Don’t worry, this will be packed up soon and you’ll have your precious space back.” He spoke more calmly than Alhaitham anticipated, expecting a level of defensiveness over his actions-- Kaveh would never truly apologize to the scribe, nor would he bring himself to thank him for anything he does. “I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

“Why?” 

The question left his lips with the same brashness as the day he’d destroyed their friendship, but Kaveh just looked at him, a confused expression settled on his face before he rolled his eyes. “Seriously? Come on, it's not like I need to explain myself here.” 

His back turned he began to go through the drawer he’d been looking into again, ignoring Alhaitham’s stiffened form in the doorway. Alhaitham’s mind worked quickly, almost in a panic as he debated what to say. I think you do. You’re just going to leave like this? Can you even afford the place you’ve found long-term?

But he bit them all back, instead stepping forward and making his way through the room. He felt too warm, his heart racing against his chest. “Are you just going to stand there all evening?” Kaveh quipped, never turning to look at Alhaitham again-- perhaps if he had Alhaitham could have better controlled what he did next. Stopped his hands from reaching out, stopped his arms from encircling around Kaveh’s shoulders that rapidly stiffened. Stopped himself from pressing his forehead to the man’s hair. “What are you doing?!” Kaveh’s own hands found his forearms, confusedly pressing against the offending appendages that gently held him.

“Stay.” He breathed, feeling overwhelmed by his own movements, like the room was too warm, their bodies too close but yet not close enough. The truth he’d hidden for so long edging dangerously close to the ledge, teetering towards the dangerous abyss of making it known, letting it out into the world and risking it all coming crashing down. “Stay.” He repeated, for once unsure what else he could possibly say.

“Wha- What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?!” Kaveh was stiff in his arms, but his protests were light, clearly more perplexed than anything, not that Alhaitham could blame him. He, too, wasn’t sure what he was doing. “What do you mean ‘stay’?!” He grumbled. 

“Don’t leave.”

“I got that! Don’t leave where, Alhaitham?” Kaveh’s voice was becoming higher in pitch, cracking in the middle of his sentence.

“Here. Don’t move.” Alhaitham didn’t dare to let go-- he’d trapped his skittish fox within his arms, and if he let go now he was sure he would flee to hide within the sands. “Don’t leave.” 

There was a tense moment of silence between the two men before the architect finally wriggled free of the younger’s grasp, turning to face him before he realized how little space was truly between them. Instead he was face to face with a solemn looking Alhaitham, his back trapped against the dresser he’d been emptying. 

His eyes were wide, his face as red as the fabric he wore and Alhaitham knew he didn’t want to go back to coming home to an empty house. He couldn’t return to a time before their tentative reconciliation. 

Kaveh’s mouth opened, but no sound escaped, instead he closed it once again, eyes averting to look anywhere but his roommate. The silence was palpable, tension growing between them in a way they’d never experienced before. “Where did that even come from?” He finally muttered, bringing his arm up and shielding his blushing face with his hand, as if the red didn’t peek through, moving back towards his ears. 

“I want you to stay here.” Alhaitham reiterated, despite the unknown situation, how little he’d thought this one through. How unlike him this was. “I know you feel like you’re a burden to me, but I want you here, Kaveh.” 

“W-what the hell? Come on, Alhaitham quit joking around--” 

“I’m not joking.” He closed the distance between them more, barely a breath apart, almost close enough for Kaveh to feel his racing heart. He reached towards the hand that covered his roommate’s face, pulling it away and looking him square in his ruby eyes. “Kaveh, you don’t need to leave. Please.” 

“Alha--” 

“Kaveh.” He interrupted, leaning down just enough so their noses touched. “I…” 

All the days of silence, protecting Kaveh’s peace of mind in his own way. Withholding the truth that would send the architect running. Everything he’d held in came rushing forward as he was faced with the reality of Kaveh leaving. It was a reality he knew could happen, he’d expected it to come up now and then, but somehow with it being so real in front of him it was frightening. Every carefully hidden gesture, every snide remark covering a look of endearment, everything was coming undone in just a few moments. 

Alhaitham knew there was no returning from this, no turning back from what he’d begun. He could only hope and pray that Kaveh could handle his truth. That his skittish fox would find a way to not blame himself for this somehow. To not hate himself. To accept the truth for what it was.

“I love you.” 

Kaveh’s mouth was agape, eyes wider than before, breath coming out in ragged puffs as he undoubtedly fought down whatever panic was rising in his own chest. Sputters of attempted responses left his lips but formed no words. The distance between them was filled with nothing but silence and an inexplicable static-- like a spark waiting to ignite something further. 

“You-” He whispered, voice failing once again. “You… you can’t be serious... Don’t make a joke of something like this, I thought you… that you’d be better than that!” 

He moved to leave, to flee just as Alhaitham knew he would, but the scribe gripped his shoulders. “I’m not joking, Kaveh. I’m being serious.” 

Watery red eyes met turquoise, as if searching for any hint of a lie from the man who was holding him. Yet from the expressions on his face Alhaitham knew that the reality of his words was beginning to settle in. “What the hell…” Kaveh murmured, looking away when he was seemingly satisfied. “That’s not fair at all…” 

“Not fair?” Althaitham questioned, voice low, trying to keep himself calm, to retain a sense of logical reasoning, to keep himself steady in the revelation of what he’d just done. 

“You always just say whatever you want, it’s not fair.” Kaveh huffed, pushing against his shoulders in a vain attempt to gain some space. 

“Is there something you want to say to me…? Just say it.” Alhaitham dared not to let himself hope, he’d long since accepted that his feelings were one sided, that there was little to no chance to repair what he’d broken in the past, let alone further it. “Just say what you want to say.” 

“It’s not fair!” Kaveh whimpered, biting his lip. “Even things like this you say so casually.” Kaveh stopped his pushing, instead Alhaitham was shocked as the blonde moved forward, resting his forehead on Alhaitham’s shoulder in defeat. “Even something I should have said first.”

Alhaitham hugged Kaveh close, long hair tickling his nose as he nuzzled his face as close as he could manage. Quickly discarding his headset when they hindered how close he could get. It felt like a dream, like he’d wake at any moment and find himself back to square one waiting for this day to come again where he’d face losing Kaveh. The only person he could bring himself to have this close, to invade his space, to hold. 

They remained like that for a long, restless minute. Only the sounds of Kaveh’s hands gripping onto Alhaitham’s clothes, of his little whimpers as he let himself be overwhelmed with the situation. The thundering pulse of Alhaitham’s racing heart in his own ears. 

“So… you’ll stay?” He questioned, barely willing to break the quiet atmosphere between them, the calm in the midst of whatever storm they’d begun. 

At this Kaveh did push him back, abruptly and far more roughly than his initial attempts. Alhaitham could see the tear stains on his cheeks, how red his eyes had become and the watery shimmer of tears still threatening to fall. “I wasn’t leaving! You moron!” He hiccuped, gesturing wildly to the messy room. “I was going to put things in storage!” 

Alhaitham blinked, slowly, as the words settled in his mind. “What about the boxes in the entryway?” 

Kaveh glared at him as he wiped away his lingering tears, and Alhaitham felt relieved--it was still the Kaveh he knew, things hadn’t entirely blown up like he’d worried about. “They’re for you. God knows you could do some spring cleaning.”

Alhaitham nearly laughed, a breathy huff escaping him at the sheer audacity of the situation. “Ridiculous.” He muttered, ignoring the indignant retort Kaveh threw back his way in favour of bringing him back into his arms. “You’re ridiculous.” 

“And yet you… love me.” Kaveh whispered, his nose just barely missing Alhaitham’s at their new proximity. 

Alhaitham didn’t bother to answer vocally, simply staring with the same, bored gaze he always gave the architect. It earned him a smack to the shoulder and a huffy, embarrassed man in his arms. “...I… love you, too.” 

Alhaitham was the one to breach the shallow distance between them, pressing a chaste kiss to Kaveh’s lips, enjoying the noise of surprise that graced his ears as he pulled away. Adoring the way that Kaveh chased the sensation. Alhaitham denied him the press of his lips, a smirk on his face. “Well, shall we do some ‘spring cleaning’ then?” 

“You’re an ass.” Kaveh groaned, but didn’t protest-- if Alhiatham really was willing to help him with the daunting task of cleaning their home, he surely wasn’t going to argue the point. 

They laxed back into a comfortable rhythm, if a little tense with that spark that remained between them. Perhaps remaining a little too close to one another, their skin brushing more than they ever would have allowed before.

Some things had surely begun to change, but Alhaitham felt relieved to know that his truth was shared with Kaveh, and that the two of them would work through whatever turmoil faced them in the future. Together. 

[hoonieyun]

we can't be friends...

“we can’t be friends...”

pairing: johnny suh x reader “y/n”

genre: angst/toxic relationship

plot: your relationship with johnny is complicated, if the word relationship is even a word you could call what the two of you have. maybe it’s better if you two weren't in a relationship… or even friends.

warning: profanity and mentions of sex - MDNI 

notes: haven’t written something in a while and ariana grande’s new album has me in my feels TT - parts in italics are lyrics from ariana’s song “we can’t be friends” copyright goes to her and the writers of that song

word count: 2186

these days your carpet floor is a lot more comfortable than your own bed. your bed harbored so many memories and laying in it only intensified those memories running around in your head. you constantly thought about the good times with johnny; whenever he’d show up at your apartment in the middle of the night with your favorite takeout after a boy broke your heart, or when he’d pretend to be your boyfriend whenever some asshole at the club would get touchy. the good times were good, but the bad times were… terrible. 

you don’t know how you got here. everything was so normal a few days ago but suddenly it boiled over into the mess that it is now. imagine a time where you had everything you wanted, but you still weren’t happy. you and johnny have known each other for 6 years, since college, but it never went anywhere; although you hoped it would. 

the two of you tried dating during your senior year of college but it got so stressful that after 3 months you called it quits; deciding that being friends would be a lot better. the two of you occasionally would still sleep with each other, but you strictly kept it with no strings attached. which leaves you wondering; who caught feelings first and when?

me and my truth, we sit in silence

you’ve been on the floor for a few hours now. changing your position from laying on the floor near your bed to sitting up leaned against your nightstand. your neck was starting to ache but it didn’t compare to the splitting migraine you had. you rubbed your neck to your temples when you realized your throat hurt a bit. not sure if it was because you had been crying all night or because you haven’t spoken all day. scared that if you said something it would solidify the circumstance you found yourself in; afraid that you’d never recover from this. you didn’t know who to turn to, when you grabbed your phone to find someone to call, your fingers instinctively made its way to johnny’s contact in your phone “big bear” but you couldn’t bring yourself to press call or even send a text, just staring at the last message you sent, “we can’t be friends anymore”.

a part of you wants to blame johnny, that it’s all his fault for treating you the way he did. he always confused you. he’d take you out on fancy dates, tell you to dress pretty, and surprise you with a candlelight dinner; everything a loving boyfriend would do, but then he wouldn’t talk to you for a few days then he’d show up out of nowhere, drunk and talking about the girl he just fumbled and how he was never going to find someone to spend the rest of his life with.

it wasn’t always like this. you used to be best friends, something like from a movie, but the last few days it’s felt like the two of you were complete strangers. you toss your phone after staring at his contact and release a deep sigh. deciding to get up from your spot and find something productive to do. it took so much out of you to stand up, the floor had been your safe space and leaving it meant only to relive the trauma of last night. 

you walked out of your bedroom and made your way to the living room, spotting the broken picture frame at the end of the hallway. you bent down to pick up the pieces of glass but got distracted at the photo. it was a photo of you and johnny at your sister’s wedding. he stepped up as your date when you found out your ex boyfriend wasn’t actually abroad studying medicine but was taking care of his wife and child you knew nothing about. the memory brought a smile to your face because you remember walking out of your apartment, trying to suck in all of your tears, when you saw johnny. there he stood in a suit and tie, he’d never looked so good and all you did was run into his arms and continue crying. he held you and in the moment nothing mattered or existed besides the two of you. 

you placed all of the broken shards of glass into the trash and left the photo on your coffee table. it didn’t feel real, there was a hole in your wall next to the front door, a glass of wine spilt on the carpet, and the memories of last night flooding in even harder than before. 

-last night- 

i didn’t think you’d understand me

“are you fucking kidding me, y/n?” johnny yelled from outside your front door. he had been out there for 10 minutes, trying to get you to open the door after you sent him that text message. 

“just go home johnny, it’s almost 1am!” you yelled back but all it did was make him slam his fist into the door. “go home-” you were in the middle of your sentence when he yells back “open the fucking door!”. a part of you knew that you shouldn’t, you knew that opening the door would only cause more problems, and that opening the door would be the end of everything you loved with johnny. *click* and the door swung open to a drunken johnny, leaning his head on his arm over your doorframe. he slowly looks up at you, making eye contact. “what?” he asks. you scoff at him and turn around, “all that bullshit and all you have to say is what?” he follows you into your living room, lazily shutting the front door. 

“come on, don’t be like this.” he says, almost begging. “like what?” you respond, knowing that his next words would only anger you further. “like this! emotional but never using your words! you expect too much out of me, how am i supposed to know what you want!” he yells. you stare at him, johnny’s chest rising up and down, faster with each breath as if he ran here. “you know what your problem is johnny?” you question him. “you don’t know how to take accountability for when you fuck up. and all you do is fuck up!” you start walking towards, pointing your finger up towards his face. 

“you want me to communicate better? well here! you’re an asshole! i hate when you act like you know everything, especially about me, because guess what! you don’t know shit!” your voice was now higher than it should, not a care in your mind if you wake any of your neighbors. your face is inches closer to johnny’s, close enough to feel his breath. you pressed your finger into his chest with every word, backing him up against the wall. “you don’t care about me, you care about having me around so that i’m there for you whenever you need someon-” 

“what the hell are you talking about? of course i care about you!” he cuts you off. “if i didn't care about you would i be here right now?” he questions you. “you’re only here because you know you fucked up not because you care about me. you care that i’m angry at you not because you care about my feelings but because you can’t stand to know that you’re the reason i’m upset and you don’t even know why. you never know why because you’ll do whatever it takes to change my mind, you’ll kiss me, get in my pants, buy me gifts, just so that i won’t be angry at you anymore but you never apologize and you never know what you did. so don’t ever, for a second think, that you care about me. you may have cared about me then but you don’t now. and you haven’t for a while.” tears were pouring down your face, throat sore from yelling, and all johnny could do was look at you. look down at you. 

the two of you stand in silence for a few moments before johnny grabs your face and brings you into a kiss. flipping the two of you over so that your back was against the wall. you push him off of you, johnny almost tripping over the coffee table; knocking over your glass of wine. “i don’t get it, we used to be best friends. we did everything together” johnny finally speaks. 

“how did we get here? why did you have to text me that? i thought we agreed no strings attached?” you sloppily wipe the tears off your face, mascara smearing, and after a deep breath, you respond. “you don’t treat a “friend” the way you treat me. you’ve said it yourself in the past.” and the memory of that night replays in both of your heads. 

the night of your sister’s wedding, at the reception, the two of you were outside in the garden watching the stars. “you know i could probably be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had, i already treat you way better than those dickheads and i’m only your best friend” he says and it makes you question what the two of you are. you chuckle, “yeah right, we tried that and we were both too stupid to understand each other outside of our favorite alcohol and sex.” you playfully slap his chest. you were going to look into his eyes when a shooting start catches your eye, “look!” you point towards it. you slap his chest a couple more times excitedly, “make a wish!”. you close your eyes and clasp your hands closed together, like a child making a wish on their birthday before blowing out the candles. 

what you didn’t see was that before you essentially rejected his subtle offer to date again, he was looking at you instead of the stars in the sky. now he watches you fondly from behind, smiling and admiring your eagerness to make a wish on the shooting star. you begin to turn around and he quickly shuts his eyes to make it seem like he was wishing upon a star the whole time. you skip towards him and wrap your arms under his, “so what’d you wish for?” you ask. johnny scoffs, “like i’d ever tell you, then it won’t come true” he says while playfully rolling his eyes. 

it may seem like he didn’t make a wish in that short time but he wished that the two of you would end up together, spend the rest of your lives together, and grow old together. unfortunately, for johnny, he should’ve known better to wish upon a star. 

the memory of that night, under the stars, leaves you in tears again. johnny explains that he’s always wished the two of you ended up together, that even if he said jokingly, he meant it wholeheartedly, but if only you knew that. 

“i can’t do this anymore.” johnny breaks the silence. you look up at him and he’s walking towards you. “tell me now, what do you want to do? i know you love me y/n and you know i love you, but if this is going to happen between us we need to…” you cut him off. “no…” your back pressed up against the wall again, noses touching in your close proximity. “we can’t be friends… not when the two of us are like this.” you respond. you feel johnny’s warm breath leave his mouth and for a moment everything was silent and there was a ringing in your ear. only to realize johnny had punched a hole in the wall right beside your head. tears begin to spill out of your eyes, almost uncontrollably. you slide down the wall and hug yourself, at this point your bawling your eyes out. johnny releases his hand from the cavity in the wall he created. 

without saying anything… he leaves. 

you spend a few more minutes crying before you get up to continue crying in your room. you pass the framed photo of the two of you in the hallway, hastily grabbing it off the wall, sending it crashing behind you into the dark hallway. almost like saying goodbye to the idea of you two.

-present-

your eyes have become glassy, after recalling the moments of last night. you're shaken out of your thoughts when your phone rings. a short one, indicating it’s a text. dreading to know who it may be from, you make your way back to your room. reaching under your bed to grab your phone after you threw it under there. 

a text from “big bear” shines bright on your phone: i’ll wait for your love. 

if he had sent that text a day earlier he wouldn’t even have to wait for your love, you were ready to give it to him and only him. but after the events of the last few days, maybe the only person you should be giving your love to is yourself.

so for now it’s only me, and maybe that’s all i need… 

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun fka jjhyn all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

[satanandsoul]

hello, thank you for the reply and yes, he did mention it in a dream vs dream video to be 10:00 am. it'd be great if you could do it for that time! thank you once again!!! have a great day ahead!

Hi there anon! Thank you so much for confirming the birth time for Haechan. Really appreciate it! 💕💛💕

♊︎ Haechan Birth Chart Analysis ♊︎

Disclaimer: All these are for entertainment purposes only. DO take my words with a grain of salt.

Asteroid and astrological body that will be discussed in depth are Chiron and Black Moon Lilith (BML) as they show up prominent in my research.

First of all, can I just say, I feel sorry for this man. Like Genuinely. With Sun-Venus conjunction in 11th house Gemini opposite Pluto-Chiron conjunction in 4th house Sagittarius, I cannot imagine how painful it is to live Haechan's life. I myself have Sun-Venus conjunction in Leo square Pluto in Scorpio. There wasn't a moment when I didn't wish I was someone else before I was 25 (the age Venus matures). Natives with Sun-Venus conjunction place a lot of importance on whether they are socially accepted or loved. Their egos are bounded with the idea of becoming that popular boy or girl that is welcomed in any social circumstances. Normally, it manifests well when this aspect is on its own. It gives diplomacy and popularity to the natives. But Haechan has his Sun-Venus conjunction opposite by Pluto-Chiron conjunction. People who have Sun-Pluto and Venus-Pluto stressful aspects at the same time inherently think that they are unlovable. They constantly compare themselves to others and find faults within themselves. And when you throw in Chiron (wounds that one cannot heal) into the mix, I see it manifests as a lot of people around Haechan (most probably at home because Pluto and Chiron are in the 4th house) making remarks on how unlikeable his usual way of getting things done (Sun) and his love language (Venus). It can also be Haechan's appearance that people make remarks on as Sun is the chart ruler. And these remarks hurt Haechan and lower his self-esteem. Haechan has Uranus trining his Sun-Venus conjunction from the 7th house. He may appear fast-changing in order to not let others notice his hurt. An example that I can give you is you know how people pretend that they have moved on to something else when they can see their passion projects are failing. It is to save them faces but deep down they are saddened by the said failure. The same thing will happen to love for Haechan. He will pretend that he has found a new man or woman he is interested in when he can sense that you are not that into him. It is a defence mechanism. You can't really blame Haechan for that. I will ignore the trines Neptune makes with the Sun-Venus conjunction as its orb is too wide, 9 degrees.

Moon in 12th house Leo opposite Neptune in 6th house Aquarius: At Haechan's core, he is extremely dreamy (Neptune and 12th house together? Puff). Not in the way that you will sigh by just one look at him, but I feel like Haechan is really good at selling a fantasy to others. Not that he deliberately does so for ulterior motives, he himself believes in those fantasies too. I can't tell you what kind of fantasies these are exactly, because Moon can point to literally all kinds of inner workings happening within a person. But Haechan is definitely dreamy by nature. And his Moon is trined by the same dame Pluto-Chiron conjunction. His emotions are also impacted by the remarks that I have just talked about in the previous paragraph. But the beauty about trine is that it is a gift. Moon trine Pluto gives emotional resilience after failure and Moon trine Chiron gives the native an opportunity to heal through emotion (But the orb for this aspect is huge too, 9 degrees, so... 🤞🏻). But is Haechan okay? I am genuinely concerned.

Now, the Mercury that Haechan has is chef-kiss. I know, it is in Cancer, which is not the domicile or exaltation position for Mercury. But it is the apex of a Yod (the finger of God), energetically charged by Neptune and Pluto. Haechan naturally understand the public's subconscious (Neptune, the dreamy subconscious; while Pluto, the obsessive subconscious). He is a great artist because of that. He can use his communication (Mercury) to make something new (the nature of Yod), psychologically profound (Pluto) and mesmerising (Neptune). Another singer-songwriter that has Mercury as the apex of the a Yod is Lana Del Rey, although the supporting planets are different (Jupiter and Uranus). But you get what I mean, she is one of the greatest lyricists of our generation. Mercury opposite BML: The way that Haechan talks stresses people out. This is because he has no filter. He does not recognise some topics are considered taboos in the society. And hence, he may feel ostracised for the way he thinks. But it is a great talent that he has in provoking people by just talking. I can also feel that he may be good at dirty talk (not going into too much details of this as this is not a 18+ reading).

Mars in 11th house in Gemini loosely conjuncts Sun: Great aspects for having an alignment between what he wants and how he gets it. Mars trine Uranus: very dynamic and energetic. I can see that he values independence. He will dislike it if someone retrains his actions. He is a wild card in that sense. And I can see that he is kind of experimental in bedroom (again, not going into too much details of this as this is not a 18+ reading).

Aquarius Descendant conjuncts Uranus in 7th house: Haechan attracts and is attracted to the rebellious type of people. He himself can feel very rebellious too. But at the same time, his relationships will come and go very fast. They are highly unstable.

Jupiter-Saturn conjunction in 10th house: This is someone who is grounded (Saturn) with his aspirations (Jupiter). And his aspirations are mostly related to his chosen profession (10th house). He has a high possibility in succeeding in his career IF he can overcome his tendency to be rebellious, unpredictable, and unconventional in love matters (Uranus in the 7th house) as his Jupiter-Saturn conjunction is squared by Uranus. After his Saturn return, his career will blossom.

I hope you enjoy this reading, anon. And have a nice day!

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

ARI IM BREAKING IN AND SHAKING YOU SO HARD RN. u think u could just drop those tags on my post AND LEAVE???!!!! im literally so giddy rn because u get it……u get it so bad

“knightly demeanour vs animalistic tendencies…gentle nature vs his violent actions” my knuckles are white im clenching my fist so hard rn because!!! ur so right there IS something just Off about the guy isnt there?? “simmering” UGH THATS SUCH A GOOD WORD like its there but it isnt so obvious at first because he truly believes hes a good person, fighting for a good cause, helping the weak, protecting vulnerable towns and villages!! but its also the fact that like that isnt really what hes fighting for deep down in his heart. im still messing with this but tell me what u think!! i think hes just the slightest bit misguided (by slight and bit i mean a lot❤️) and has no clue how to view his knighthood because he doesnt get to choose!! he doesnt get to choose who he has to raise his sword for and who he has to bend the knee for

BLARGG i got carried away but im so glad u liked the little drabble🫶🏽🫶🏽knight!sugu lives in my head rent free, im so glad someone else is crazy about him hes so hot

PEHJDJSJD MOSS????? ur making the brainrot worse pls stop 😭😭 this is gonna get extremely long i think just bear w me </3 god i adore ur take on him SO much i cant even explain it

moss. grabs ur shoulders. no because youre actually a genius. i was already sold but i never even considered how perfect a knight au is for suguru holy shit????? UR SO RIGHT. ALWAYS. he is ABSOLUTELY misguided and i think there are so many possibilities for his character in an au like this…

its so similar to his canon circumstances but also Not. and there’s that whole other factor of knighthood and honour thats so different from sorcerers because sorcerers can be (and SHOULD be) a little insane in the head but knights have to be Perfect. but then they also have to be Human and the tragedy is that u cant be both at once. (more on that later 🔥🔥 im normal abt this concept)

this is just my own take on sugu but!! i see him as like… Obsessively Moral. in the sense that he follows his own morals without thinking about anything else. almost destructively. and god moss the way that could translate into a knight au…..

just. suguru being born with so much empathy and strenght (and also that one simmering Thing that makes him a bit off) and immediately being recognized by the people around him. being branded a knight and given a sword to Protect people with. a purpose that he devotes himself wholly to, pledging himself to the protection of the people around him, and finding genuine satisfaction out of helping them (while also getting his kicks out of killing monsters bc it satisfies that one little simmering Urge he has). and the people love him and he loves them!!!

but then we get into the concept of knighthood (which im extremely normal about) and how fucked up and paradoxical it is. bc knights are supposed to Protect but also Kill. and they have to do both. suguru is given a sword to Protect people with but swords only do one thing and that is Kill. so how could he not get a little addicted to the way it feels?

its just sooo… messed up. honestly. knights are branded as heroes and saviors and theyre loved by all but deep down theyre more like dogs who have to lunge in whichever direction their superior throws a bone at. ”he doesnt get to choose who he has to raise his sword for and who he has to bend the knee for” <- LITERALLY THIS. he has to be obedient because knights are defined by Loyalty above all else and there are…. SO many ways that could fuck suguru up mentally.

him being seen as a Perfect Knight… having love for the people hes sworn himself to protect but also an undeniable love for violence…. and having no choice but to do what his king tells him to. its just bound to go wrong!! and when it does he’ll have no choice but to bear the blame alone bc thats what a good knight is supposed to do.

like im just imagining knight!sugu having a similar crisis to canon sugu in which he fails to protect someone, or has to sacrifice a certain amount of people to save more, or maybe just has to Kill something in a very gruesome way. and then slowly people turn their backs on him. maybe not entirely shut him out or anything, but now there’s this tension when he walks in and he sees a hint of fear in the eyes of the people he used to speak to so warmly.

and its just this nausea that he cant get rid of because hes spent his LIFE protecting these people. its all he knows. its what he was born for. and now theyre afraid of him? when he does nothing but devote himself to them? when all he ever did was save them over and over again? i can just imagine that contempt building up inside his stomach. slowly rotting.

and then suddenly all he can think is how ungrateful they are, how weaklings who cant protect themselves should just sit still and let him do it for them……. Yeah. i just think knight!sugu could be corrupted so easily because of how kind and moral he is (the traits that made him a Perfect Knight in the first place . throws up blood)

anyway all this just to say knight!sugu is genuinely the hottest sugu ive ever seen in my life not even kidding thank u for feeding me 🙏🙏🙏 i SCREAMED when i saw it in ur masterlist. if i saw him beat the shit out of a monster w his bare hands i would fold instantly and follow him wherever even if he went crazy and got banished <33 rip to the rest of the village but im different

[skaruresonic]

Going by what the series has provided in terms of Gerald's writing, he was basically scamming GUN by telling them he was making something with weapons development potential, when in actuality his research on the ultimate life form seemed entirely dedicated to medical benefits for Maria's sake. So I can imagine the most intensive experimentation Gerald might have subjected him to would have been like a blood test and making having him run on a treadmill while hooked up to an EKG or something. AKA pretty much what you'd expect out of a normal annual checkup anyway.

I wouldn't think the other researchers working on the ARK were even "in on it" so to speak, even if they worked in the same department. According to the journal entries in Battle, Gerald seemed like he was giving the higher ups the run around when it came to Project Shadow. I would think that if other researchers knew that Shadow was the result of Gerald's research, they'd have probably ratted him out. Considering the Commander was allowed to visit and run around on the ARK at least once, if no living there as a civilian just like Maria, then I'd wager a headcanon claiming that Gerald lied and passed Shadow off as a civilian resident who had nothing to do with his research is more likely than him being poked and prodded by anyone on station wearing a lab coat.

then I'd wager a headcanon claiming that Gerald lied and passed Shadow off as a civilian resident who had nothing to do with his research is more likely than him being poked and prodded by anyone on station wearing a lab coat.

I... wouldn't quite go that far, if only because Gerald would certainly have a lot of explaining to do if suddenly an anthro nobody heretofore had seen walking around the colony showed up one day without clearance. I do agree with the general premise that maybe a select circle of people knew of Shadow's existence. Considering that Black Doom claims a traitor ratted them out, it's possible the culprit was someone in Gerald's closest circle.

is more likely than him being poked and prodded by anyone on station wearing a lab coat.

See, the thing is you don't even need to inject more trauma into Shadow's backstory when Gerald's relationship with him offers plenty of poignant material to work with. The Professor initially viewed Shadow as just a cure for Maria's illness, eventually growing close to his creation, enough to view him as a son... Only to revert back to dehumanizing Shadow as a tool for revenge when he went insane and no longer had conscious control over his thoughts. I find the implications of Shadow and Gerald's dynamic endlessly fascinating, as they may even resonate into Shadow and Eggman's unique relationship today.

If you notice, Shadow never directly pins the blame on Gerald, his creator, for his existential woes. Nor does he seem to directly attribute any of Gerald's wrongdoings to a deficit of character on the Professor's part. This could be because Shadow remembers Gerald as a man who once told that the reason for his existence was to make people happy through the power of silence... but it could also be that his bond to Gerald is very strong, and he prefers for his own peace of mind to think better of the man who gave him life and showed him love. Personally speaking, I like how this attitude subverts typical cliches where the existentially suffering creation harbors rage against its creator.

When speaking of the circumstances of his birth and its ultimate purpose, Shadow typically uses passive voice. "I was created to be a weapon of war" vs. "Gerald created me to be a mindless weapon of war." The subtle omission almost seems to imply some sort of cognitive dissonance.

We see this as well in the line, "I must destroy all the evil the Professor has created." Shadow delivers it quite matter-of-factly, with determination in his voice. He considers it his duty to reverse the destruction Gerald threatens upon the world, yet his tone would indicate he doesn't hold it against the Professor. It's just something that needs to be stopped. Although Gerald orchestrated the colony drop to give mankind a taste of the despair he felt before his death, Shadow doesn't appear to see it as a sin worth condemnation, just a wrong that must be corrected. There's no personal sense of indignation, betrayal, or anger on his end.

While I may be peering too closely into things, part of me wonders now if Shadow is so used to cleaning up the Professor's messes that he views destroying the Biolizard in much the same light as exterminating the Artificial Chaos in Lost Impact. It's tragic that this happened, but what needs to be done needs to be done.

How does Gerald's influence impact Shadow's dynamic with Eggman? In a multitude of ways, I'd argue. A lingering respect for Gerald may subconsciously compel Shadow to give Eggman a baseline level of respect when addressing him - he's one of the only characters to consistently call Eggman "Doctor" - and, of course, being the Professor's only living next-of-kin means Eggman feels a certain possessive ownership over Shadow, and Shadow is likelier than others to hear Eggman out. But there's also a poetic irony in that Eggman is also another evil Gerald may have inadvertently created, which Shadow nonetheless seeks to correct.

[yunessa]

Sometimes we have to hold onto hope. Hope tomorrow is better, hope someone is doing well, or hoping for something else. When hope isn’t able to be held, white lies can help.  Like: tomorrow there will be less locusts in the sky, maybe there will be less house on fire, or, -this one became my favourite lie in Kenabres-: “I’m not quite that special. I'm just another elf.” Mainly to avoid being forced into joining the crusades as Kenabres has a history of voluntelling people stuck within its borders to go fight the World Wound. Another normal elf was unlikely to be voluntold to go and could feasibly slip away. I’d committed myself to helping these newfound friends and the group around me until the army had come, then I’d slip away and bounce to the next town. Singing, playing my lyre for coin and getting another blessing to keep the curse at bay a little while more. It was a simple life with some complications. Sometimes a lot of them. But I was used to it, no need to change my life it if it worked, so I thought. I like to think sometimes that Woljif is partially to blame for having to reject the lie I was normal entirely. Someone being cursed in Golarion isn’t unusual. Neither is possession, weird not-children, Inquisitors, bastard nobility, angels and demons, tieflings, mongrels or even gnomish hell knights. It is the world we live in- unusual stories and circumstances happen. But a talking sword is far from normal or unusual. A talking sword is something straight from a ballad or a true heroic story you would find on a bookstore’s shelves or hear about at the inn. You can’t lie that a talking sword is normal in everyday life because the only people who possess one can’t be normal. So when I held FInnean in my hands and the shock of his talking wore off, I began to realise that perhaps, I was not normal at all. I had no idea where such a thing would see me- I never would have guessed at it- but finding Finnean made even that white lie impossible to swallow. I told Woljif once I was normal until I found Finnean and jokingly blamed him for it. Wolf responded with: Were you ever really normal though? You were already weird when you found him. The urge to tug at his head by grabbing his horns sometimes comes to me rather strongly. -Yunessa

[true-blue-sonic]

I think very often about the fact that Silver doesn't have any friends from his own time. Even if he did make friends in the future, he would risk erasing them from existence any time he chose to go to the past; and not only would nobody but him realize the loss that happened, but also he would have nobody but himself to blame for causing the loss of his friend.

And that made me wonder: If Silver were to be rendered unable to (seemingly) ever return to the past and got forced to make a life for himself in the future, and then he did, but then suddenly he regained the chance to see his friends from the past again… Under normal circumstances he might've had little qualms about visiting the past again, but after spending potentially years accepting he'll never get to see them again but he's not gonna let that prevent him from living his life… would he be willing to risk losing the life he has now?

Exactly this is a dilemma I like discussing in some of my fics as well, like New Beginnings and Genesis. The choice to go back in time and making a whole world and its inhabitants not exist in the first place is definitely made more easy when that world is beyond rescue and its inhabitants are mostly gone or rapidly dying out anyway. Since the games never dive into Silver's life in the future except some vague mentions here and there, like Silver saying that the sky is blue and everybody's got a smile in Colours DS, I find it hard to infer what his social life would be like there. But indeed, if he brings forth an accidental change to the timeline, it is very likely that people he knew in the future are gone or get fundamentally changed. And if they don't recognise him with each timeline 'reset', I can imagine that for Silver it eventually becomes better to just not have any acquaintances there at all. It leads to too much heartbreak, too many goodbyes, and far too much guilt. No, in such a scenario, I really do think Silver might steel himself and ensure his only friends are ones that are safe in the past, where his control over their lives only extends to ensuring they can keep on living instead of being responsible for their demise. Stopping people from coming into existence is already a tough choice, let alone if it's someone Silver knows, and I think he's got a lot to grapple with conscience-wise about it all.

As for your question in your second paragraph, I'm afraid I don't have a solid answer. I think a lot would hinge on how likely it is his visit to the past immediately changes the entire timeline. If he were to visit on some calm weekend afternoon when there's nothing happening regarding Eggman and the like, I don't think there would be too much chance of things going wrong? But I do think he would be tremendously antsy about it all, both in part because he hasn't seen his friends in the past for so long and in part because he is afraid he's going to lose some friends all over again, but then in the future instead. All in all, it is a situation wherein I see only losses and problems, with no easy solution to ensure everything goes well for both people in the future and the past simultaneously. But somehow, I have faith that Silver can make it work!

[kore-b]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49428337

Mary is alive. No one knew until Lilith was able to track her down after the fight with Adriel. She is alive but injured. They know who did it. Vincent.

Lilith and Camila are the ones who look for her, Mother Superion gave them the permission to use one of the vans, Lilith is the one driving as Camila tries her best to stay calm and contain her emotion, after everything that happened just some hours ago she feels guilty at being happy about something, but she misses Mary and she can't wait to see her again.

They arrive to the place, it's an abandoned and completely destroyed building, perfect to hide. Camila gets out of the van quickly and goes inside, Lilith following behind her as she makes her claws appear, just in case it was needed; it takes them some time to find their friend, the only reason they found her was because Mary let out a groan of pain. She looks like shit .

She's still in the same clothes she was when she saved their lives. Except now she's covered in blood almost completely. Blood on her face. Hands. Clothes. Boots. It's intimidating, but Camila and Lilith ignore all the blood and get close to her. Mary stares at both of them, but it looks like she doesn't recognize them, this causes Camila to panic, she can't lose anyone else; "Mary, it's us, Camila and Lilith", Lilith says in a soft tone, Camila had never heard her talking so soft to anyone, but it makes sense she would talk like that given the circumstances they were in, Mary seems to relax when she recognizes the voice. She struggles to get up and struggles even more to stand up, leaning on Lilith to stay up and not fall.

Camila stares at Mary to try and see how injured she is, but it's useless in this state, her clothes are covering her whole body and there is no injury she can see like this. She guesses she's injured somewhere on her stomach by the way she's covering it with her free arm, she decides that she will check it out once they're in the van or when they get to Cat's Cradle, the first thing they need to do is get her in the van. Lilith is careful and slow, taking short steps as she tries her best to get Mary into the van safely, it takes time but they eventually get her there, Lilith goes back to the front as Camila stays on the back with Mary. She notices how bad Mary's state is and decides that she will look at her injuries at Cat's Cradle.

The whole ride is silent. The only sound are Mary's groans of pain.

"She didn't make it, did she?", Mary asks after some silent moments, they know who she's talking about, and they know that she knows the answer. But they don't say it. Lilith's hands grip the steering wheel with more strength, her knuckles turning white. Mary lowers her head and looks at her hands with dry blood on them; she knows who's fault it is, she knows who caused all of this, she knows who they have to blame. She can't even say his name. Vincent.

Mary can feel the anger slowly returning to her, waiting to explode, waiting to act. She will let it happen.

The van gets silent once more and it stays that way until they get to Cat's Cradle; Mary seems a bit better, she had gotten some rest in the ride and it seemed to be enough for a little while. She still needs Lilith's help to get out and walk, Camila is the one who carries Mary's guns.

They slowly make their way into the place, getting some stares from the Sisters inside, they can't blame them when Mary is covered in dust and blood that they don't know if its hers or someone else's, it does look like a look Mary would have, but the shock of it happening after months without knowing her location is understandable. The walk is slow and Lilith makes sure Mary doesn't try too much or too hard to walk, everything seems fine until Mary sees him .

Vincent is talking to Mother Superion, it seems normal but they can all feel how mad Mother Superion is, they can't blame her, everyone feels the same about him. Mary sees red , she can't walk well yet she walks up to him slowly, Mother Superion gasps when she sees Mary and hugs her without thinking, happy to see one of her girls returning home, Mary hugs her back tenderly, knowing how much it meant to her to know that one of her girls was alive after what happened; she allows the hug to last as long as Mother Superion needs it to last, which is at least some minutes, but Mary doesn't mind. The smile the older woman gives her makes her forget about everything that happened to her in the last months.

But when she sees him , and he is looking at her like he did nothing wrong, she can't stop the anger from bursting out.

"What the fuck is he doing here?", she asks, clearly mad, everyone stays silent at the big contrast of her personality in the span of two seconds, "Well, he helped us in this fight", Mother Superion comments, she can't be upset at Mary's tone because she knows that Mary wasn't there in the fight and doesn't know what happened. "Lilith, why didn't you kill him?", she questions without looking at her, her eyes focused on the son of a bitch that was standing in front of her, Lilith says what Vincent already knows, "I wouldn't take that pleasure from you", she replies, Mary smirks and it makes Camila shiver a bit. She has never seen Mary like this.

Vincent starts to walk away to avoid conflicts. Mary won't let him.

_-_-_

I wrote this fic some days ago and thought it'd be good idea to post it here so more people know about it and read it :)

[sad-goth-dark-writer]

Yandere Eddie Munson Alphabet

Abduction, would they abduct their love interest if so when, why, and how? I can’t really see Eddie fully kidnapping his love interest, however he would isolate them and try to keep them inside all day if they lived together.

Birth, when did their obsession start? I think the yandere behaviors would kind of just come along with the romantic feeling which would likely occur after friendship. Eddie has been attracted to people he doesn’t know well but never having a full blown crush.

Crush, what would they do/feel if their love interest had a crush on someone else? He would be angry, not necessarily at you but at life and the circumstances that would lead to you being interested in someone else. He would also blame the other person.

Definitely, what is something they almost certainly would do? When your still friends but he has feelings for you he would definitely be clingy. Constantly following you, trying to get you to not spend time with other people stuff like that.

Envy, do they get envious of relationships their love interests have with others? Definitely, he’s very jealous because he wants to have you for himself. He’s scared that you’ll lose interest in him if you spend more time with other people because people tend to think he’s weird and avoid him.

Force, would they force their love interest to do anything if so what? Once in a relationship he would often force you to kiss/make out with him and be constantly touching you. I can’t see him doing anything explicitly sexual without consent though.

Guilt, do they regret any of their actions? If so, what actions? Many of his actions are from this kind of desperation to make sure you don’t leave/break up with him. He knows that a lot of his actions are unhealthy and bad but he tries to justify if in his mind with ideas that other people don’t care about you as much as he does or that he’s just looking out for you.

Hidden, do they hide their feelings if so from who? He is very open with his clingyness though most people just think he’s some weird asshole boyfriend and don’t think much about it. When alone with you he’s more honest with the “intense” level of love he feels.

Isolate, do they manipulate their love interest? Definitely, he doesn’t use more physical forces and is left with just convincing you with manipulative words.

Justice, how would they react if their love interest was being bullied and/or abused? Oh he would fucking lose it. He’s near definitely dealt with with bullying himself and would go bat shit if he found out you were dealing with it. He wouldn’t do anything drastic in front of you but if he knew who your bully was he would find them. He would likely threaten them and maybe assault them in an attempt to try to get them to leave you alone. He would do the same if you were struggling with abuse from a family member.

Kill, would they ever kill someone if so who and why? No. I don’t think he could ever get himself to do such a thing.

Lucidity, do they know their feelings/behaviors are unhealthy if so does that stop them? As stated earlier in the Guilt section, he knows threatening people and manipulating you into avoiding others to spend time with him alone is bad; but he thinks that his reasoning is justified.

Motivation, what is their motivation for their actions? He’s scared of you losing interest or leaving him for someone “normal” and wants to to just have someone to rely on.

Never, what is a hard core limit? As stated earlier he would never kill someone or harm you.

Often, what are some things they often do with/to their love interest? He honestly just likes talking to you/being around you. He tries to spend as much time with you as possible which leads to you guys doing a lot of stuff together. Stuff like sitting in his bedroom while he talks about D&D or trying (and failing) to help him with his homework.

Proprietorial, do they get proprietorial/possessive of their love interest often? Its not that he thinks he “owns” you its that he hates almost everyone and thinks most people have bad intentions with you.

Qualm, how would they feel if their love interest was scared of them?  When he threaten and or assaults other people he tries to make sure you don’t find out. If you somehow do and start being scared of him he (tries) to reassure you that he wouldn’t hurt you or people you care about.

Reason, what are the reasons behind their obsessive behavior/feelings?

For years he’s had people think he’s weird and avoid him or outright hate him. A lot of his more unhealthy behaviors are based in trying to make sure you don’t break up with him.

Share, this is for various x reader fan fiction but would they “share” their love interest? No.

Trust, do they build a relationship with their love interest? He would first befriend you, develop romantic feelings for you and you would eventually start dating. Most of his obsessive behaviors don’t show until your already in a relationship.

Unmistakable do others take notice of their obsessive behavior? I think some of his friends would take notice of how clingy and partially paranoid he is but they wouldn’t think much of it. They would just think it’s Eddie being weird.

Violence, do they act violently towards their love interest? No.

Waspish, do they often show hostility towards their love interest and/or others? To you? No. To others? Yes. I already listed some of his actions towards others so I won’t specify here.

X, What is a random headcanon you have for this character as a yandere that wouldn’t be on this list? Whether their good people or not he would probably hate your parents. If their more protective they likely wouldn't like you dating a twenty year old drug dealer who has been in high school for six years and would try to either make you break up with him or minamize your time with him. If they are neglectful emotionally and/or physically their would be a lot of trauma their and he wold resent them for it. If their straight up abusive he and would likely threaten and/or assault them.

Also he’s likely taken picture of you and masturbated to it at least once.

You, what does this character go after in a S/O? He would want someone who genuinely liked him and enjoyed spending time with him so he wouldn’t go yandere over someone he doesn’t have a relationship with prior.

Zealous, how passionate are their feelings compared to other yandere's? In comparison to Billy (who imma do an alphabet of next) he’s pretty tame but is more intense than Steve, Jonathan, and Robin

[cinnamonest]

Y’all are too nice to me I swear… here I am being horny and nasty on main and I’m getting encouraged, damn. But for real  ( ´ ω ` ) thank you so much!!

I’m gaining more confidence to post more smutty stuff and the kind of dark shit I like, so I might go back and make more nasty Childe content later on too… After Albedo, I got Razor and Zhongli coming up, and a few ones I just worked on for fun. But yeah, just in case it wasn’t clear for anyone who followed me, I’m going to be writing almost entirely dark content and some really nasty stuff, so just be aware of that, and don’t consume my writing if that’s something that may be harmful to you.

Albedo is so pretty… and such good dark content material… He treats you like a science experiment but has the audacity to make it hot smh

I haven’t seen a whole lot of him outside the cutscenes, so potentially ooc (as if yandere content isn’t already ooc, lmao)

Albedo - Yandere Profile

tw: general yandere content, obsessive behavior, stalking

tw (below cut): smut, noncon (seriously, you’ve been warned)

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Very much aware. In the beginning, it frustrates him. He’s never been particularly attached to anyone, outside of his former instructor. He’s always enjoyed being out on his own, spending extended amounts of time by himself – the desire to be around someone is a foreign feeling for him. He immediately notices how bizarre the emotion is for him, how it changes his behaviors. His self awareness combined with perceptiveness makes him able to acutely recognize not only how unusual this emotion is for him, but also how the extent of his feelings, the types of desires they ignite in him, is unusual even for “normal” people who aren’t social recluses.

He’s frustrated by his own actions, feels embarrassed at how attached he is to you, how easily you make him flustered and trip over his words. As he is a very aware yandere, he’s definitely afraid of rejection to some degree. He has no idea how to navigate feelings and interactions with other people, he’s never really had the desire to form a particularly strong bond with anyone before. As such, he’ll come across as very awkward, and he will interact with you less than most yanderes – he knows he’s just going to embarrass himself if he talks to you, right? He’ll just mess up and say something strange, so instead, he opts to watch you from the shadows, go to places where you are, but keep a distance from you, just being able to watch you makes him feel fluttery and overwhelmed. 

He will definitely be one to collect things from you. He collects plenty of things for the sake of science, this is no different. Or so he tries to tell himself, but he can’t delude himself even if he tries. He knows its weird, he knows its wrong, but the overwhelming urge to have things of yours is too great to resist. He’ll start off with more innocent things, but it will gradually progress to not-so-innocent… items of yours.

It may not be obvious, but he’s actually a fairly sensitive person, at least regarding you. He places a lot of value in what you think of him, and wants to ensure you’ll respond positively to him. He views it like a science – there should be some formula by which he can put in the correct actions, and produce a specific result. Unfortunately, unlike real science, there’s not much room for trial and error – he feels he only has once chance.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

It will take some time, as he’s got to get over his own nerves first. He’s torn between the fear of you hating him for such a thing, it would be the end of the world for him, but also the desire to pull you away from the world, to keep you hidden from others, to have you all to himself, to be the only person that gets to look at you. If you start showing positive signs, reacting positively to his gifts, expressing interest in conversation with him and going out of your way to see him, he’ll start to get more confident, think that he can afford to do something that might sour your opinion of him, hoping it will merely be temporary.

He’ll probably start to do so several times and back out. He’ll set out at night, make it all the way to your room and stand over your sleeping form, and he’ll start to worry, wonder if someone saw him, see holes in his plans, he gets too nervous and bolts. He’ll persuade you into being alone with him, and although its the chance he’s looking for, again, he’ll get nervous, worry about being caught, run through all the what-ifs, and miss the chance. Honestly, when he does finally take you, it will probably be not planned, but in the heat of the moment, a rash decision from desperation. Something like you coming to visit him to tell him you’re leaving the area, came to say goodbye, and he’ll panic, ultimately grabbing you by the arm as you try to leave and dragging you back inside, silently, but forcefully.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

Moderately difficult. Your best bet is to take advantage of his tendency to be absent minded when he’s absorbed in his work. He gets very lost in his thoughts, to a point where he’ll completely zone out and be oblivious to the world around him. On the downside, this means you won’t have much time to cover distance, he’ll be close behind the moment he realizes you’re gone.

The route he’ll probably take is actually one where you won’t need to be too restrained, because you’ll be taking… a little research trip. Out to the most freezing, desolate areas of the mountains. He’s convinced the knights he needs to stay there for his research, but in reality, he’s internally panicking, as he tries to figure out how to make this work – after all, you two can’t stay here forever. You’d be foolish to run out of the little cabin he’s bought, out into the perilous freezing cold and jagged, high slopes. At first, he thinks there’s no way you’d try it, so he’s content letting you have free reign to walk around as you please. If he has to leave for whatever reason, he’ll probably lock you into a single room, but he won’t chain you up, as again, he's really trying to avoid making you hate him.

If you prove to be determined to leave, he’ll be hurt, but mostly concerned for you. He’s actually not one to get too mad over an escape attempt – he’ll blame himself, or theorize it’s just a natural response your brain triggered. Against his first choice, he’ll end up having to get more strict with your restraints. If you get too whiny, though… you might trigger one of his more frustrated moments.

“I didn’t want to have to do this… I’m sorry. I can’t risk anything bad happening to you. Tell me if it’s too tight… I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t blame you. I know you’re probably panicking over all this, but you’ll get adjusted to it, I promise. Just… just give it some time… it’s not so bad, living with me, I promise.”

“Don’t be like that. You’re only tied up because you tried to leave. You should understand why you have to be kept like this… If you don’t want to be restrained, you shouldn’t have run out, trying to get yourself killed.”

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

For all his academic intelligence, he’s not highly skilled with people and socialization. He’s not too good at being able to tell when he’s being lied to, and he definitely won’t pick up on subtle manipulation. It’ll be pretty easy to wrap him around your finger, he’ll do what he can to make you happy.

Once he finds out you’ve lied to him, though, he’ll get pretty upset. He likely won’t trust you again, and will require proof of anything you say, or set out to find out if you’re telling him the truth or not.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He’ll try to accommodate you, giving you things you ask for, but he has limits. He’s too paranoid to let you have any contact with the outside world. You do have him wrapped around your finger to an extent, though. Whatever he’s doing at the moment, he’ll drop it in a heartbeat if you want to spend time with him in any way, even if its just you asking for food or to take a walk. He’ll be willing to take you for very short trips outside, no further than a few yards from the lodging, if only because he knows sunlight is vital to your health.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

The basics will be there – don’t try to leave, don’t be difficult with him, try to cooperate, be obedient. However, he’s also particularly overprotective of anything that can hurt you – even yourself. Under no circumstances can you handle anything that can hurt you – that means no cooking, no knives, no lifting anything heavy, no going outside without him. If you’re determined to cook something, he’ll have to stand right behind you, and watch while you do it. If you get so much as a little cut or burn, he’ll take over, insisting you go sit down after he tends to your “wounds.”

At the very beginning, he’ll be hesitant to punish you too much, as part of his plan to get you to like him. However, he can be a little easily frustrated, and your safety and well-being comes first, even if it means he has to make you upset. He will have to restrain you, take away what little privileges you had. If you try to bolt while you’re outside, no more going outside. If you try something foolish like attacking him with a knife when he gives you cooking privileges, you will lose said privileges. Really, the worst part of it all is the humiliation, being treated like a dumb, incapable baby that can’t do anything for yourself. He insists on doing everything for you, even down to bathing you and dressing you, even feeding you if you can’t convince him to take restraints off your hands. He’ll talk down to you in that way, too, talking to you as if you were a child.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

It’s a situation he’s not prepared to handle, and he’s unsure of what to do. It strikes fear in him that you might have someone else interested, so he has to get rid of them as quickly as possible. He’s not opposed to killing, if it comes down to that, but initially, he’ll try to work behind the scenes – expose something that will ruin their reputation, get them accused of a crime. This would also be one of the possible aforementioned situations that might cause him to kidnap you a bit earlier than he normally would, as well. If he can’t get rid of them easily, he’ll just take you away from them.

He will absolutely try to make you hate them, try to ruin your image of them, and he’s rather good at falsifying evidence for his claims of their behavior. With his alchemic skills, that sort of thing is easily possible.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

He gets more frustrated than anything, when you’re being difficult. This is mostly just him sighing quite a bit, speaking a bit harshly, even pouting and sulking a bit if you’ve offended him. But true anger in him is not pretty, and almost never happens. It’s a buildup, a slow rise that has a boiling point. If he reaches that point, he can definitely get mad enough to hurt you, it’s actually kind of terrifying in how sharp of a contrast it is to how he normally is. It’s a side of him that’s very difficult to draw out. He’s not one to yell or shout, no, his anger is a suffocating silence, he slams down whatever he’s holding as he stomps over to you, grabbing you by the arms hard enough to bruise, and dragging you by the hair to whatever he has planned.

With mild frustration outbursts, he will feel justified, but if it reaches that intense anger, he’ll usually give at least a little apology, tell you he didn’t mean to go that far. He hates to think of you fearing him, but ultimately, if that’s what’s necessary to keep you safe, then he can live with it.

Do they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

It’s an odd mix. On one hand, he sees you as utterly fascinating, the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on, more than any landscape or art he’s seen or made, an invaluable treasure to be kept on a high pedestal. Simultaneously, however, he will treat you like a child, thinks you can’t do anything for yourself. It’s a bizarre duality, but one he is consistent on. You’re precious, so very precious, and he’s undeserving of you, but at the same time, you need him to be safe and sound.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Of the genshin boys, he’s one of the most determined. He’s not good with people, and he doesn’t really have anyone particularly close to him left anymore. He tends to keep people at a distance. You sort of fill an space inside him that he never knew was empty, a void he wasn’t aware he had until it was consumed by thoughts of you. He doesn’t need anyone or anything else, so long as he has you with him, but he really, really wants it to be true that you love him. He doesn’t need you to even love him as much as he loves you – he doesn’t even know if that’s possible – but he just wants to know that, even if only in the slightest, his feelings are returned. He’s so distant from everyone else, but you wormed your way into his heart, even if you didn’t intend to, with your smiles and softness and kindness towards him. For the first time, he feels weak around someone, but in a way, it’s a good feeling. He wants to be able to be vulnerable, be weak, and not have anything to fear by doing so.

He’s lucid, though, so he doesn’t expect you to love him immediately. As he’s not good with words or displays of affection, he’ll get you all sorts of gifts. Rare items that you wonder how the hell he obtained them, beautifully crafted little trinkets from all his searching and time traveling, more clothes than you could ever wear. You’ll start to feel a little guilty, it’s so much, and you’re certain he doesn’t have that much money. He’ll blow it off, say it’s no big deal, but if you insist, he’ll have to start finding new ways to convey his affection. In captivity, he won’t stop trying, but he’ll understand why you might be angry. In that case, he will utilize what he’s learned from research in books he’s read. He knows that eventually, with him being the only one you have, the only company, the only one to talk to, the only source of touch, you’ll eventually have to cave. You’ll become attached to him, bond with him, whether you like it or not. He knows how powerful the affect of touch can be, and will make sure to hold you in his arms, keep you on his lap, make you crave the only source of human touch you can get. Dependency, he thinks, is the gateway to you loving him.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Drawings. So many of them. Much like his drawings he uses in notes, he’s found he tends to start scribbling a familiar face when his mind drifts off. He’s memorized every little detail of your face, every curve on your body. If you’re ever snooping around, you’ll eventually uncover a book of sketches he has solely dedicated to drawings of you. Drawings of you laughing, smiling, sleeping, drawings that you’re certain were of real events you were at, that you didn’t remember him being at. Every bit in perfect detail. If you confront him about it, he’ll be horrifically embarrassed, insisting they’re no good, or, if you’re upset, trying to reassure you it was all from his mind and totally not him lurking in the shadows as he watches you.

Also, if you want to make him happy, get him on one of his spiels about his work, his interests, anything that he can catch onto and go on and on about. He’ll catch himself rambling and apologize for being “annoying,” but if you reassure him, and express interest, that will make him feel particularly appreciated. It would be a primary way to get on his good side and manipulate him, or lull him into false security to make your escape, if that’s what you’re looking to do. But be warned, it will only work once, and he’ll be far too hurt to let himself indulge in sharing these things with you again.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Publicly, definitely highly reserved. He’s easily flustered, and thinks of sex in a very scientific way, for the purpose of procreation. For fun? He knows it’s enjoyable, but can’t separate it from his very analytic, scientific way of viewing things. It’s a formula, you touch this here and pull that there, and the result is supposed to be orgasmic bliss. He just isn’t very familiar with pleasure – he doesn’t drag out masturbation, even, as that would be a waste of time. He gets it over with quickly, taking short breaks during his work. He is a fairly high drive, though, and gets the urge fairly frequently, about once or twice a day.

He’ll be hornier with your presence, having to leave more frequently to get off to the little things you do, quickly getting himself off while recalling the mental image of you holding a pen in your mouth, the little moan when you stretch, the way your clothes fit to your frame.

Prior to abduction, he’s not particularly touchy at all, in fact, he’s very jumpy if you touch him. Once he’s gotten you alone with him for the foreseeable future, isolated, dependent, he’ll gain more confidence, be willing to give into his cravings to touch you, hold you, eventually progressing to groping you, moving his hands up and down your body, under your clothes, slowly peeling them off.

He’s initially a bit ashamed of his urges towards you, feels guilty every time he gets off to you, but will likewise gain more confidence once you're his.

A guy can only fight off the urge for so long before he cracks, before he can’t continue to care about the consequences. For him, that point is when he knows he finally has you all to himself – his worries fade, and while the guilt is still there, it’s far outweighed by desire.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

He does care, but as stated previously, it’s hard to fight the urge for so long. It will be torture, but for the first few days, he wants you to “adjust” to your new “home,” and not add to your panic. After that, though, he’ll try to assess your reactions. If you’re extremely resistant, he’ll give you more “adjustment” time. He can’t really hold off forever, though, and eventually, maybe a few weeks in, comes to the conclusion that if he just does what he wants, so long as he’s gentle and reminds you he loves you, it will help you get past the mental barrier in your mind. He’s convinced there’s simply a psychological issue, and that sometimes, people need a push. It’s like having a friend who can’t swim – sometimes, you just have to throw them into the water, help them get over that mental hurdle, and they’ll be grateful in the end. That’s what he tells himself to justify it, anyway. He has enough… anatomical prerequisite knowledge to know what’s good and what’s bad, and will take your body’s positive reactions as a sign of what you really want. Is definitely the kind to use that against you, holding up his fingers to your face after you cum on them, as if to prove a point.

“See? I told you, you just have to let go and give in to what you want… if you didn’t, my fingers wouldn’t be dripping like this, now would they?”

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

He wants to experiment on you. This manifests as him being something of a service top without really intending to be, even if you’re not exactly happy about it. He likes to watch your reactions, watch the way your body moves, test the pleasure you get from different things, discover what it is that you like, even if you weren’t aware of it. In particular, he’s fascinated by the fact that girls have so many types of orgasms. He’ll want to try them all, watch and see which ones are more intense than others, which ones make you convulse, makes your toes curl, your eyes roll back. Which erogenous zones make your breath hitch, make you twitch and whimper. Probably the type to be determined that he can make you cum just from something like sucking on your nipples, and he won’t stop until he achieves it. He’ll also want to try everything. At least anything that he thinks has some potential to appeal to him, mentally. He’s a busy man and hasn’t really taken the time to explore his own sexuality, and has virtually zero experience.

Edging, overstimulation, forced orgasms

Experimentation also means testing limits and thresholds. He’ll bring you up to the edge, learn to watch for the slightest of signs that you’re close, listen to your breath, watch your face, wait until you’re just so close and then draw back, stopping just short of letting you catch that high. Then he’ll let you drift back down, and bring you back up again. No amount of begging will make him show you any mercy, you’ll only cum when he’s decided he’s observed enough. He wants to push the limit, see just how close to the edge of orgasm you can get without spilling over, just how much it takes to drive you insane. He’ll also want to see how far you can go after it as well. Orgasm won’t be the end of his ministrations, no, he wants to see how much stimulation you can take. You won’t be able to get away from his tongue, he’ll grab you by the hips and slam you back down, continuing to lap at you even if you’re so sensitive it’s painful. Watching you cum will just make him rut into you harder, bruising and abusing your insides to a point that they’re so sore you can feel it long after it’s over. At first, he might feel a little guilty, and may very well after it’s over, but in the heat of the moment, he can’t fight the insatiable urge to listen to you squeal, feel you convulse, watch the tears from overwhelming pleasure run down your face.

He’ll make it his personal mission to see how many orgasms the female body is capable of within a given amount of time - per day, per hour, how quickly you can have them in succession. For scientific purposes, of course. Anatomy and human biology isn’t really his main field of focus, but he likes to expand his research horizons.

“Just one more… cum one more time for me, then we’ll be done. Come on… I know you can, just one more.”

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He’s actually good with children, usually. He has a calming effect on kids. He isn’t sure how he feels, though. To some degree, he fears his capabilities to parent, thinks he would be too cold to be a good father. But he also likes the idea of a protege, an heir to his title, one he can teach everything he knows. If he does end up having one, this fucking nerd man will read every book on pregnancy, birthing, and parenting that he can get his hands on.

Also, he’ll absolutely be one to track your cycles, even better than you can. He’s researched enough to know exactly when you’re most or least likely to get pregnant, and you can’t help but notice how much more he seems to cum in you when you’re at your most fertile. Nor can he deny how satisfying it is to watch his cum slowly drip out of you, watching you twitch with aftershock and slowly drift off in exhaustion.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Unfortunately for you, since overstimulation and edging are already normal and everyday for you, he’ll have to amp it up a bit if he’s trying to make you regret something. He might get rougher, abusing more pleasure spots on your body, keeping his hands, mouth, and cock occupied all at once with driving you over the edge until it’s painful. But if you’re exceptionally misbehaved, you might not ever get a release to his edging, instead left to suffer from being so close, tied up so you can’t finish yourself off.

In moments when he’s really, truly angry, the peak of it, and that blends with arousal, he’ll really, really throatfuck you. Grabbing the back of your head and shoving his cock down as deep as he can, holding you there as you gag and choke, feeling your throat convulse around him, desperately trying to pull back for air. The movements are harsh and brutal, pulling harshly on your hair, moving at a pace so fast you barely have a second to breathe. Thankfully, when it gets like that, he won’t last long, emptying out into your throat, holding your jaw shut and demanding you swallow. If any spills off on your chin, he’ll gather it up on his fingers, hold it to your face, and command you to open your mouth, suck it off, and swallow again. That’s at the peak of his anger, though, and you’ll have to substantially piss him off to reach that point. He’ll apologize later, holding you close, but his guilt doesn’t change the fact that it’s one of the most intense orgasms that he’ll have, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t sometimes think of doing it again, even without provocation. He’s restrained enough not to, but the thought is there… and deep down, he’ll entertain the idea.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

The curves of your body, no matter how defined or faint they are, no matter the general shape of your body, to him it’s the most beautiful thing. He’ll definitely want to draw you, even if you’re not too keen on posing. He’ll run his hands up and down your body, squeezing every little bit of flesh he can, moving his palms over every little curve, every inch of your skin.

[mercy-burning]

Petite Etoile

Pairing: Spencer Reid x femReader Summary: BAU!Reader used to be a stripper, and when people where she used to work are being murdered, the team is called in to investigate. Category: Fluff, Smut 18+ (oral sex- male and female receiving, penetrative sex, Reader also does a stripping performance) Warnings: Sex, language, mentions of murder/violence and all the things you’d normally find in an episode of Criminal Minds. (As always, if there’s anything I missed, let me know what I should include in warnings! I want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you!) Word Count: 7.8k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This is going up way later than I said it would, so I’m sorry if you were looking forward to this, I just haven’t been motivated lately. But  I really have to get out of my writing slump, and I’m hoping I can do that soon. Anyway, I hope you like it! Thanks for reading 🥰 Also, I know that Don’t Blame Me by Taylor Swift doesn’t exist at the time of early season 2, which is when I imagine this taking place, but for the sake of the story let’s pretend it does, because that’s the song I had in mind when I wrote the performance scene 😉😂

***

When Y/N walked into work Thursday morning, everything was as normal as it could be. She chatted with Elle on her way up the elevator, handed JJ her coffee as she made her way to Hotch's office, and ruffled Reid's hair when she passed him, smiling at the way he blushed at her affectionate gesture.

But when the team was called into the round-table room, and she watched as JJ presented their next case, Y/N felt a little sick to her stomach.

Over the past week, three strippers from the town she'd lived in for years before moving to Virginia had been found stabbed in various parts of the block surrounding Starsight. She knew the place well. Not only did she used to work there as a stripper after she graduated, but her best friend, Irene, owned the establishment, and she'd practically become the sister Y/N never had. She helped her through college and pushed her to go into the Bureau. If people, Irene's people, were dying, why hadn't she called or said anything?

Thankfully Y/N didn't recognize any of the dancers who'd been killed, because if she had, she'd feel a lot worse. But even still, she wanted to find who was behind it, and she would. The BAU always did. And with her background knowledge of the scene and the town, Y/N figured she might be able to lend an extra helping hand.

But first she had to tell the team about her past.

It wasn't a secret that she used to be a stripper. In fact, it wasn't really something she was able to hide. With someone as curious as Penelope Garcia in her life, Y/N wouldn't have been able to hide it even if she wanted to. Thankfully though, besides the occasional teasing comment from Morgan, and sometimes Elle, the team didn't treat her any differently. She wasn't Y/N The Former Stripper, she was just Y/N. She was good at her job, and everyone respected and liked her just the way she was.

While debriefing on the jet, she was about to bring it up when Morgan did it first, seemingly sly like he'd discovered some big secret. "Hey, Y/N, didn't you used to live near this place?"

She nodded, clearing her throat. "Uh, yeah, that's actually what I was going to bring up. Starsight is where I used to work before I moved here. I know the owner of the place, she's one of my best friends."

She could tell Morgan wanted to tease her some more about her previous work, but before he could get a word in Gideon spoke from behind her. "Irene Whitcomb?"

"Yeah."

"Good, when we land I want you, Morgan, and Reid to go talk to her. See if you can find anything out."

Y/N nodded, and in front of her, she noticed Reid was a little flushed. It didn't surprise her considering when everyone found out her previous job, he almost choked on his coffee, and Morgan laughed hysterically while he had a coughing fit. It was obvious to Y/N from the beginning that Spencer had had a little crush on her, and it didn't bother her at all. Every once in a while she'd pat his knee before she got up from her seat next to him or wink at him as they saw each other briefly in passing, just to see how he'd react, and by now it was a staple of their relationship. It never did go any further than that though, Y/N afraid she might make him too uncomfortable.

But even still, she couldn't help but give him a flirty smile as he blinked rapidly in front of her, still seeming to process what was going to happen when they landed. When he excused himself to go to the bathroom, she gave him one more wink and a small bite of her lip as he passed.

Morgan laughed softly beside her. "You're gonna ruin the poor kid if you keep that up, girlie."

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," she responded, even though the smile on her face suggested otherwise.

***

A strip club being almost at full capacity in the middle of the day was more common than one might think. It had surprised Y/N when she first started working at Starsight, and even now she still didn't really understand why. Regardless it was almost 3pm, and if things had stayed the same over the years, which by the looks of things seemed to be the case, Irene should have been behind the bar.

It must have been a sight to behold, Y/N mused as she and her colleagues navigated through the club in search of its owner, and it sounded like the beginning to a bad joke— a former stripper turned FBI agent, a guy who looks like he just walked straight out of a procedural cop show, and an adorably and obviously nervous skinny kid with glasses and trembling hands walk into a strip club at 3pm... The thought made Y/N laugh to herself, right before Irene spotted her.

"Y/N!"

It was obvious that she wanted to jump over the bar and give her old friend a hug, but given the circumstances, Irene settled for dropping a shot glass, spilling the drink on the counter, and clapping her hands quickly a few times in succession. A wide smile and kind eyes greeted the three agents as they approached.

"Irene, hi," Y/N greeted with a large smile of her own. "I wish I could have came to visit under better circumstances."

"Right, me too..." The blonde woman's smile faded for a second, just long enough that the recognizable signs of grief came and go quickly before replacing themselves with bittersweet niceties. "Anyway, you wanna introduce me to your friends?"

"Yeah, Irene, these are my colleagues, Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid."

Irene reached out to shake their hands, eyeing up Morgan with only the slightest bit of shame, and laughing softly at Reid's polite avoidance of the gesture as he settled on a wave and a shy smile.

"We were hoping to ask you a few questions about the past week," Morgan said.

"Yeah, anything. Just give me a minute to clean this up and we can sit down."

***

"So, you used to work here?"

Y/N laughed, kicking Derek under the table. "Yep. Looks exactly the same as when I left, too. Only difference is that I'm not here to bring everyone in on Friday nights."

As Derek laughed, Spencer tensed up beside Y/N, and he started to play with his hands under the table they all sat at.

"She's not joking," Irene said as she approached the table with a smile. She took the seat next to Morgan and gave him a wink. "Petite Etoile over here was the main attraction."

Y/N groaned a little. "Oh, c'mon Irene, don't use my nickname here, that's not who I am anymore."

"Don't tell me you've lost your shine, Little Star." From the tone in her voice to the look on her face, it was clear to Y/N that Irene was just as devious as she'd been since the day they first met. "You know it would just break this town's heart."

"I highly doubt that... Besides, this little star shines just as brightly as it used to, thank you very much."

At that statement, Y/N felt Reid's knee hit the table with a loud thud. As Morgan questioned whether he was okay, she wondered what was running through his head. It didn't last long though, because shortly afterwards Morgan started asking questions about the case.

"Was it particularly crowded on the nights the dancers were killed?"

Irene hugged her arms to her stomach, her eyes drooping a little at the mention. "It gets pretty crowded every night to tell you the truth. But Friday nights are busiest. The nights Carrie, Lola, and Evelyn disappeared were just like any other night here."

"I know how hard it is to keep track of everyone, but is there anyone you might have noticed that seemed a little too lurk-y?" Even as she asked the question, Y/N felt like she already knew the answer.

And Irene really did seem to try to recall something, anything that could help, but she was visibly frustrated, tears welling in her eyes. "No, Y/N, I'm so sorry. After Carrie... the first time... we heightened security and everything, but it just wasn't enough, I... I don't know what to do."

Y/N reached across the table to grab her friend's hand. "It's okay, 'Rene. We're gonna figure this out, alright? I promise you."

Through tears, the blonde smiled and squeezed Y/N's hand. "I know you will, Little Star."

"Would it be possible for us to look at your surveillance tapes?" Reid asked quietly.

Irene looked up at him and nodded, still squeezing Y/N's hand. "Anything you need."

***

"So... Little Star, huh?"

Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile as she, Morgan, and Reid got into the car. When she got in the passenger seat, she waited for Morgan to be in the car before responding. "Oh, don't start. I swear to God, Derek, if you start calling me that I might just have to kick your ass."

"Well, you gotta at least tell me how you got the name?" he laughed, putting on his seatbelt while Reid climbed in the back.

"Well, how do you think? The place is called Starsight after all... So, Petite Etoile just made sense."

It was obvious that she was lying to get him to drop it, so Morgan kept pushing. "Okay, sure, but that's not the whole truth. Carrie, Lola, and Evelyn didn't have star names."

"Ugh, okay, fine, if I tell you will you shut up about it?"

"Promise."

Y/N caught a glimpse of Reid in the back through the rearview mirror. As expected, he was fidgety and just a little red.

She sighed and waited until Morgan pulled out of the parking lot to talk. "Okay. Once every month Starsight does a 'Midnight Sky' theme night. They light the place up in deep blue lights and everyone wears... space-themed outfits. Every dancer does their own special routine with songs and outfits that they pick on their own. My first time working a theme night, everyone seemed to really like what I did; I ended up doing an encore later in the night before we closed. Another dancer who worked with us at the time, Jenny, was learning French, so after my performance she called me Petite Etoile, and it just stuck."

"Okay, but why did you get the nickname and no one else?" Morgan asked with a smug smile. He knew she was still holding something back.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes, Y/N, I really want to know."

She sighed. "Let's... just say my outfit was... well, it barely covered me, and what it did manage to cover was covered by fabric in the shape of stars."

While Morgan laughed, Y/N looked in the mirror to see Reid with his head low, even more red than he was before. He was biting his bottom lip and fiddling the the seatbelt strap, and when his eyes briefly met hers in the mirror he was quick to avoid eye contact once again. If Y/N didn't find it completely adorable she would have felt more badly about it. But just to make sure, she called out to him.

"Reid, you okay back there?"

He looked up to meet her eyes again through the mirror, but only briefly before trying to ook anywhere else. "O-oh, yeah, I'm... I'm good."

Morgan laughed. "Yeah, I bet you are."

Y/N punched him in the arm and met Reid's eyes once more. "Sorry."

"Oh, you don't have anything to be sorry about, it's... it's okay, really, I-I'm not... it's..."

"Hey, don't worry about it," Y/N said calmly, giving him a reassuring smile. "We're all good here, right?"

"Right," Morgan and Reid said one after the other.

"Good. Now let's catch this creep."

***

Unfortunately no one had gotten much of anywhere in the next few hours. The security footage showed a man following each of the girls out of Starsight but there wasn't anything distinctive about him. Somehow he'd avoided all the cameras face to face, so he knew where they all were. And as for how he chose which dancers to target they weren't sure.

Until Irene walked into the station, that is.

"Y/N, I completely forgot something! I can't believe I missed it."

She stood before the team in the office that the station had given them for the time being, everyone else sitting down. Y/N stood up and nodded. "What is it?"

"Carrie, Lola, and Evelyn were all Spotlight Performers."

"What does that mean?" Elle asked from behind them.

Y/N turned to the group, her arms crossed. "Every other night Starsight spotlights a different dancer for a large performance at the end of the night, sort of like a grand finale before the club closes."

"So you're saying each of the girls was the Spotlight Performer on the nights they went missing?" Hotch asked, more like a clarification than a question.

"Yeah, Carrie on Saturday, Lola on Monday, and Evelyn on Wednesday," Irene said frantically.

Y/N reached out to grab her hand. "Well, it's Thursday. So, if he sticks to pattern, he's going after tomorrow's Spotlight Performer. Who do you have lined up?"

"Well, no one yet. After the murders the girls have been hesitant to schedule, and I don't blame them... So what should I do?"

Before Y/N could answer, Hotch did. "Y/L/N, you haven't gone undercover before, but I think it would be a good idea. You used to work at Starsight, you could lure him out."

She turned around sharply. "Oh, I... I don't know, Hotch, I haven't danced in so long, I'm not sure I—"

"He's right," Gideon interrupted. "It's the best chance we have at catching him."

Between Hotch and Gideon's opinions on the matter, Y/N knew she didn't have a say anymore.

"You still know your routine, Petite Etoile?" Irene asked, only slightly amused.

"Petite Etoile?" Elle wondered aloud.

Y/N heard Morgan laugh and she sighed.

***

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you were nervous," Irene said as she straightened another piece of Y/N's hair.

She played with the hem of the sheer robe she was wearing. "Well, I'm about to go undercover for the first time, stripping for the first time in years in front of all my colleagues so I can lure out a serial killer, so I guess you could say I'm a little nervous."

"Well... When you put it like that..."

Y/N looked up at her friend. "I'm sorry, Irene. Really, I'm okay, and we will get him, I promise."

"No, I know you will. I'm not worried. So... Who do they have watching you tonight?"

"Gideon and Hotch are outside, but Elle, Morgan, and Reid are in here with me. There are some extra officers all around the block, too, just in case."

"Hmm," Irene mused, and Y/N could tell she wanted to say something.

"What?"

"I don't know, it just surprises me they'd send Reid in here of all people. He seems almost more nervous than you."

Y/N laughed. "Well, when it comes to girls he gets a little nervous, but... he's good at his job."

"I'll take your word for it. But I also wouldn't be surprised if he short circuits when he sees you up there."

The thought made her smile a little, though she wondered how badly Morgan would tease him about the whole situation. Things between them all would no doubt be a little awkward for a while, but in no time they'd go back to normal like it never happened. At least that's what she told herself, because she wasn't sure what she'd do if her friendship with Reid was permanently damaged and awkward because of her past. The thought worried her just a little, but before she could get too psyched out, a knock at the door brought her back to reality.

"Y/N, it's Elle."

"Come on in!"

Y/N got up from the chair and turned around to meet Elle in the doorway. Her eyes wandered for a moment before nodding with a smirk. "Damn. Petite Etoile indeed."

Despite the nerves, Y/N smiled. "You here to give me an earpiece?"

Elle nodded and closed the door behind her. As she turned on the device and handed it to Y/N, she spoke. "You nervous?"

"A little, but it's just because I haven't done this in a while. Not to mention I'm doing it in front of everyone, and I'm luring out the unsub."

"No pressure, right?"

Y/N laughed, adjusting the earpiece and taking a deep breath. "It'll be fine. How long until I go on?"

"Five minutes. I'll be near the front with Reid. Morgan is in the back with a few officers, and everyone else is outside. We all have communication with you, so if we see him we'll let you know what to look out for."

"Got it."

"Y/L/N, can you hear me?" It was Hotch's voice through the earpiece.

"Yeah, loud and clear."

"Good. We're all in position. Whenever you're ready."

***

Elle met him near the front of the stage. To say he was nervous would be an understatement. Spencer didn't have a problem with strip clubs in the least, but it was bad enough that he'd thought about Y/N on multiple occasions in his dreams, now he was going to have to see her stripping just like he'd imagined many times over. The whole situation spelled out disaster, and if she didn't already know he had a crush on her, she most certainly would when the night was over.

As Elle approached him, he took a deep breath and stretched out his hands to calm his nerves. "She okay?"

Elle nodded. "Ready to go. I'm gonna stand on the other side of the stage, keep a look out for anyone who seems like he could be our guy."

"Right."

Before she left, Elle patted him on the shoulder and smiled knowingly. "Oh, and Reid... Try not to get distracted."

Yeah. He was fucked.

When the music that was playing stopped and the lights started to shift, Spencer took another deep breath. Irene's familiar voice came through the speakers.

"Thank you for coming to Starsight. Tonight's Spotlight Performer is a special one. Returning to the stage for the first time in years, shining brighter and better than ever before, give it up for our very own little star, Petite Etoile!"

A deep, seductive song that Spencer didn't recognize replaced Irene's voice as the lights shifted again, and the crowd around him applauded. It was just as crowded as it had been when he, Morgan, and Y/N met Irene the day before, but with a serial killer no doubt present and Y/N about to come on stage, everything felt heavier.

A dark silhouette broke through fog on the stage, and even though Spencer knew it was Y/N, it didn't feel real. He'd only ever seen her at work, in work clothes, and sometimes in casual clothes when they all went out for drinks on occasion.

So when she finally came into view, her hair tumbling down her back and shoulders rather than in a ponytail, and wearing almost nothing at all, he wasn't even sure it was her for a split second. But the way she looked, her magnetic presence and the way she carried herself across the stage was so remarkably her it was hard to miss. Everything about her confidence was elevated in that moment, and his own confidence—in his job and ability to function as a human being—was completely shattered when she caught his eye. It was just a split second, but that was all it took.

She must have noticed, because she gave him a small smile and a wink before turning her attention to the rest of the crowd as the music built. Spencer cleared his throat softly before glancing around, trying his best to scan everyone for anything suspicious. When he was sure there was nothing around him to be concerned about, he reluctantly let his eyes wander back to the stage.

By now Y/N had rid herself of the sheer robe that was on her, leaving her in a deep blue one-piece... contraption was the only word he could come up with. It was all connected by thin straps of fabric that weaved around every curve of her body, crisscrossing and leaving little to the imagination. Just like she'd described back in the car yesterday, small patches of fabric shaped like stars covered the front of her breasts and...

The second he looked down, she squatted, spreading her legs open and rolling her hips, exposing almost the entire front three rows of people to her barely-clothed pussy.

Spencer felt his cheeks grow warm as he quickly averted his gaze and pretended to survey the crowd again. To his credit, he did really search for anyone who could be the unsub, but the whole time he heard the song and the cheering crowd, and in turn Y/N occupied almost every corner of his brain.

When he finally had the courage to look at the stage again, she was making her way to a chair in the middle. Every step was on beat to the music and purposeful. She danced around the chair for a bit before another big beat drop in the song happened, and she squatted in front of it quickly, rolling her hips as she slowly got up.

Her eyes found his once more as she mouthed along to the words of the song, almost like she was singing directly to him. He wouldn't have thought anything of it, but she held his gaze for much longer than he'd been able to handle, and she knew exactly what she was doing. Which was made evident when she bit her bottom lip and ran her hands down her body, stopping at her knees before she sat in the chair and spread her legs, her hands finally dragging along the insides of her thigh.

Her eyes remained on him the entire time.

Butterflies immediately erupted in his stomach at her intensity, stronger than they'd ever been before. He'd always felt it when she affectionately ruffled his hair or patted his knee in passing, but now? She wasn't even touching him and he was about to crumble to the ground.

Thankfully something in his ear saved him from that. "I've got a visual." It was Morgan. "He's in the back, black long sleeve and jeans. Buzzcut. Y/N, look up at me and blink three times when you see him."

Reid looked up and and noticed her doing it. To anyone else it wouldn't have seemed out of pace, but he could tell she was a little rattled. In any case, she broke contact with Morgan and continued on with her performance as if nothing happened.

Though it meant there was most definitely a serial killer in the room and he would follow Y/N out of the club later, Spencer was glad for the past minute, because he wasn't sure how much more of the performance he could take. Suddenly there was a job to focus on again, and he was thankful for that.

***

"You're sure you're okay?"

Y/N laughed as she approached her motel room, phone in hand. "Yeah, Irene, I'm okay. Promise. He got a hold on me but my team was there to stop him before he did anything. No nicks or bruises or anything."

"Okay... You were great out there by the way. If you weren't such a kick-ass FBI agent now, I'd ask you to come back."

Laughing, she turned her head and noticed Reid at the end of the hall, walking to his room. He caught her eye and gave a shy smile before disappearing behind the door and closing himself off from her. She contemplated a moment before starting her journey to his room. "Well, I'm glad we could help. Maybe if I find myself in town again, I'll stop by."

"Yeah, you better. Though I'd prefer if a serial killer wasn't involved."

"You and me both. I'll come see you before we leave tomorrow morning, yeah?"

"Yeah. Goodnight, Petite Etoile."

With an affectionate roll of her eyes, Y/N nodded though her friend wouldn't be able to see. "Night."

She hung up and put the phone in her bag, taking a deep breath before knocking on Reid's door.

The answer was almost immediate. He stood before her, and it looked like he'd just gotten undressed, wearing grey pajama bottoms and a white tee shirt. "Oh, Y/N, h-hi," he stammered, pushing his glasses up his nose a little. "What's up?"

"Do you... mind if I come in? I know it might sound a little weird but I don't really want to be alone right now..." It was true. Though she was okay after catching the unsub, the idea of being alone after everything that happened was sure to leave a small ache that wouldn't let her sleep, and having company would make a good cure.

"Oh, no, that isn't weird at all. Uh, sure, come on in." He stepped aside and opened the door wider to let her through. She smiled gratefully as she passed him, careful to notice the faint color that adorned his cheeks.

When he closed the door behind them, she set her bag down on the floor and turned to meet him, playing with the sleeve of the FBI jacket she was wearing. Before leaving Starsight, she'd changed into underwear, leggings, and a thin tee shirt. She debated taking the jacket off, but knowing how much of her body her colleague and friend had no doubt seen that night, she figured for his sake she'd leave it on. At least for now.

"I know it's late and we should probably get to bed, but... Truthfully I don't know how well I'll be able to sleep."

Spencer seemed concerned. "You're... you're okay? He didn't hurt you badly, did he?"

"Oh! No, he didn't, I'm just... rattled, that's all. I'll be okay, really. It's just that I haven't... performed in a long time, and all of that added on to being serial killer bait was just... eventful. That's all."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, you were great."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing at her lips. "Oh?"

"Oh, I mean at handling the unsub. Not that you weren't great at the other thing, of course! I just... I just meant that... I didn't mean... Um..."

"Hey, it's okay, I'm... I'm not mad or anything, I'm... flattered."

The redness on Spencer's face became more vivid under the dim glow of the room. "I- Really?"

Y/N smiled and took a step closer. "Mhmm. Y'know... Truthfully it was really hard for me not to look at you the whole time. Out of everyone in that whole room, I wanted to see only you."

His gaze wandered up and down her body briefly before meeting her eyes. "You did?"

"Mhmm," she said again. Her hand reached out to graze his bare arm, and he shivered under her light touch. "You can stop me if this is too weird, but... I really like you, Spence... Like, a lot. And, I think it's pretty obvious that you like me, too. Am I wrong?"

He swallowed. "Um... No. You're not wrong."

She was only inches away from him now, her hands gently caressing his shoulders and chest. She looked up at him through her eyelashes and smiled. "Do you want to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss you right now?"

"Um... T-truthfully I think I might want... to kiss you more..."

Y/N laughed and balled his shirt in one hand, the other snaking up to the back of his head and running through his hair. "Okay, then... You gonna prove it, or what?"

He bit his lip softly before leaning down and capturing her lips in a kiss that made her dizzy. Her hands tightened their grip on him, and the second her lips parted, he wasted no time gently swiping his tongue across her bottom lip, his confidence growing with every second. She groaned into him, pulling her body flush against his and forcing him to wrap his arms around her waist to keep steady.

They pulled away for air eventually, and by the gleam in his eyes when she looked at him, she knew exactly what she had to do.

"No one is rooming with you, right?"

"N-no. It's just me."

"Good." She whispered it seductively as she removed her hands from him and slowly unzipped her jacket, keeping eye contact with Spencer the whole time. Except, of course, when his eyes glanced down to see the progress the zipper was making. Once she slid it off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor, he took her in, his tongue dancing behind his lips.

She let him have a few more seconds before taking a step forward and kissing him again, both of her hands cradling his face and bringing her thumbs to gently rub his cheeks. He melted into her completely, wrapping his arms around her again in no time. While their kisses were slow and passionate for a minute, eventually they grew hungrier, and Y/N hadn't even realized they'd been moving until they were toppling onto the bed, Spencer falling back and her landing on top of him.

They broke apart only for a moment to adjust themselves, but went right back to each other once Y/N straddled his legs and he leaned back on his hands to keep himself upright.

Her hands played in his hair as she kissed him, each brush of her tongue against his sending him into a downward spiral. He'd only ever dreamed of this, and even then, this was better than any dream. Y/N herself was better than any dream.

She ground her hips against him, causing him to groan into her mouth, and he pushed himself forward to be closer, needing to be completely wrapped up in her for as long as he could. When she pulled her mouth from his and settled her hands on his shoulders to keep him from moving, he whined a little, the sound completely taking the both of them aback.

She smiled and cocked her head to the side. "I've thought about this for so long... You have no idea how many times I've wanted to kiss you since we met."

"Really?"

With a nod, Y/N toyed with the collar of his shirt, tugging it and slowly grinding her hips against him again. "Have you ever thought about it?"

It was a question they both obviously knew the answer to, but she wanted to have some fun. She loved seeing how shy he got, it made her want him even more.

"Yes... I... I think about you a lot," he breathed, blinking at her as she slid her hands down his chest and found the bottom of his shirt. She smiled and raised it up, her touch sending shivers all over his body.

"What have you thought about? Any specifics?" she asked once his shirt was all the way off. Her fingers found their way to his neck again as she pulled herself closer.

"Oh, I... Um... I-I've thought about... kissing you on the jet in front of everyone."

Y/N smiled and pushed his glasses up his nose, then traced her finger down over his lips and hooked it under his chin to tilt his head up, exposing his neck. "I've thought about that, too... You know what else?"

Spencer blinked at her, urging her to continue.

She leaned forward and kissed the underside of his jaw, then his neck, leaving small kisses in between every soft word. "I've thought about how good your hands would feel on me." Her hand grabbed one of his and brought it to rest on her side, slipping under her shirt. "Have you ever thought about touching me?"

"Yes," he breathed as she moved her mouth back up his jaw and to the corner of his mouth.

She brought her lips just inches from his, and he could feel them just barely as she spoke. "Do it. Please."

And then she let go of him, bringing both her hands to his face as she kissed him again. Her legs wrapped around him tighter as he used both of his hands to grip her sides. As soon as they knew they were stable enough not to fall backwards, Spencer slid his hands slowly up her torso and barely ghosted over her breasts. She could tell he was a little hesitant, so she pushed further into him, practically trapping his hands in between their chests. Her kisses grew deeper and more desperate as he palmed her breasts, letting a moan or two slip out to encourage him further.

Thankfully it worked, because with every passing second he got more confident with his touches. When Y/N moved her hips against his again, he sighed into her mouth and brought one of his hands out from under her shirt and to her head, running his fingers through her hair.

At this point he was noticeably hard beneath her, and she was desperate to feel more of him. So Y/N peeled herself away from Spencer and snuck her hand down to play with the waistband of his pants. "You wouldn't happen to have a condom on you, would you?"

"Oh, uh, a-actually Morgan gave me one as a joke last week. It's, uh, in my wallet. In my bag."

Y/N laughed. "Sounds like him. Why don't you go grab it."

He nodded as she got up off of him. While he walked over to his bag, Y/N quickly removed her shirt and leggings, leaving her only in a pair of thin black panties that were almost too small. Before he turned around, she sat back on the edge of the bed and spread her legs wide, leaning back on her elbows as she waited.

If she didn't know any better she would have thought that when he turned around, his eyes were going to fall out of his head. He took small steps towards the bed, and she made the 'come here' motion with her finger. "Take your pants off for me?"

He all but scrambled to get them off, and Y/N smiled affectionately at him as she watched, hoping to calm his nerves by letting him know that he had nothing to be nervous about.

But just to be sure, she told him as much anyway. "You've got nothing to worry about, Spence. Trust me, I... I want this."

Once his pants were off, he met her at the edge of the bed, standing in between her legs. "I do too, I just... It's just that I've only ever... done this before once, and... I'm not very experienced, and I don't want to disappoint you."

Y/N sat up and grabbed his hips, leaning forward to press small, soft kisses to his stomach as she looked up at him. "You could never disappoint me. Promise."

Once she was sure he was a little more relaxed, she moved her kisses lower, until they reached the waistband of his underwear. She hooked her fingers under it and slid them down slowly, keeping eye contact with him until they dropped to the floor. Only then did she look down at his dick, and it was even better than she imagined.

Giving a satisfied hum, she pressed a soft kiss to the tip and fluttered her eyes up to meet his, the look on his face completely awe-struck. She took the tip of his dick in between her lips and sucked gently, swirling her tongue around it as she watched his mouth fall open, a sigh escaping. She could tell he was holding back a little, so she traced her finger along the length of him and kept sucking lightly at the tip, hoping to get some noise out of him.

Y/N took him in her mouth completely, bobbing her head up and down just a few times to get him wet before removing her lips with a pop. When she gripped him firmly with one hand and steadily began to stroke him, he finally gave her what she hoped for.

"Y/N," he groaned, just above a whisper. His eyes were closed, but he opened them when she stopped.

"You wanna put it on or should I?" she asked.

"Spencer turned the small packet over in his hand before nodding. "I can do it."

Y/N scooted farther onto the bed and slid off her panties as he got to work, and thankfully he wasn't as nervous anymore. He moved to take off his glasses, but she stopped him. "Keep them on?"

The devious grin on her face made him blush, and he nodded, crawling over the top of her and pressing tentative kisses to her stomach, only he travelled downward instead of up to her mouth.

"You don't have t—"

"I want to," he reassured, kissing her inner thighs. "Truth be told, Y/N, I've thought about doing this, too. Is that okay?"

"Yes," she responded clearly, extremely turned on by the needy tone in his voice.

Almost immediately after she answered, his tongue darted out to taste her, swiping gently over her clit and sending her into a state of speechlessness. She leaned up on her elbows to watch as Spencer took his time, exploring and savoring every inch of her. She knew now why he'd wanted to take his glasses off, but if anything the sight of them riding up his face as he ate her out made the whole thing even hotter.

"Fuck, Spence, that... that feels so fucking good," she breathed, trying to keep her eyes open to look at him but ultimately failing.

Her words emboldened him, and he slipped a finger slowly inside her, his tongue paying special attention to her clit. He worked them together in a slow, sensual rhythm that eventually drove her to the edge. And she told him so.

"You're gonna make me cum," she breathed, willing herself to open her eyes. She found him staring up at her as best as he could in his position, the hungry sparkle in his eye pushing her further. What finally pushed her over the edge was when he sucked gently on her clit and groaned against her as she called out his name. Everything blinded her for a moment as she rocked her hips against his face, needing to hang on to every last second of her orgasm.

When she finally came down, Spencer pulled away and adjusted his glasses, to which Y/N bit her lip and moaned once more. "You're sure you've only ever done this once?"

He laughed a little, sucking his fingers clean with a shrug before answering. "Yeah, but I'm a quick-study."

Y/N smiled and reached one of her arms out to him. "Come here, quick-study."

The two of them smiled as their lips found one another, her hands flying to his hair once again. His hands gripped her waist, and his dick pressed up against her lower stomach, making her groan against him.

Without another word, Y/N hooked her legs around his waist and shifted their weight, rolling them over so she was straddling him now. Spencer reached up to move her hair to one side of her face, and then soon after she sat up, placing her hands on his chest.

"I'll tell you something else I've thought about," she said lowly, scratching down his chest just lightly enough to give him goosebumps. She then used one of her hands to grip his dick and lifted her hips up, running the head of him through her wetness as she looked down at him. "I've thought about how good you would look while I ride you. More than once, actually."

She sank down onto him, just a little, and his face sure enough twitched in pleasure, making Y/N smile to herself. "What about you? You ever imagine me riding this pretty cock?"

"Fuck, Y/N, yes, I— Oh my god..."

She sat down completely, rocking her hips forward a little and pressing her hands harder into his chest. "Fuck, you feel so good..."

She set a slow pace, making sure to pay extra attention to Spencer's face as she worked him. Just like she'd done before, he seemed to have a hard time keeping his eyes open, but his hands gripped her hips so tightly she was sure they'd leave bruises. The thought of that spurred her on, and she picked up the pace, bouncing steadily on his cock.

"Ohhh, fuck," she groaned, her hands leaving his torso to grab her breasts. He opened his eyes and watched her, letting out a soft moan of his own. His hands slid up her sides and under hers, replacing them with his own firm grip. She leaned forward a little so he wouldn't have to reach up that far, placing both of her hands on either side of his waist.

"Tell me," she managed to say as she continued riding him. "You ever think about fucking me at work? In the round-table room or over my desk? I know I have..."

He continued to pinch and pull at her nipples while barely being able to keep his eyes open. "Y-yes... Fuck, Y/N, I think about you all the time..."

"Feeling's mutual. Sit up for me?"

Spencer opened his eyes and she helped him sit up. They adjusted for a second before she wrapped her arms around his neck and started moving again, rocking her hips into his and giving him a better angle to hit inside her deeper.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good," she breathed against his lips before she kissed him, missing the feel of his lips on hers. Their bodies clung together perfectly, every movement feeling better than the last, until they were both obviously close to coming undone.

Sure enough, the moment she squeezed her legs together and clenched herself around him, he groaned into her mouth and bucked his hips forward. "Y/N... I..."

She pressed her forehead to his and tugged at his hair, quickening her pace just a little and feeling herself geting close as well. Any moment now and she would feel it.

"Me, too," she breathed, brushing her nose against his. Within a matter of seconds, they were both unraveling, sighing out each others' names and holding on to each other for dear life as they rode out their highs.

Eventually Y/N slowed her hips to a stop, and she slumped against him, pressing one final kiss to his lips before she got off his lap and pulled him down to lay beside her, immediately snuggling into his side and burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"So, was that better than you imagined?" she murmured against his neck, pressing kisses along collarbone.

Spencer laughed and pulled her even closer. "Even better. No dream could ever do you justice."

She smiled, feeling herself growing sleepy. "You sap... But, for the record, I could say the same thing about you."

"Really?" He seemed genuinely curious.

Y/N looked up at him and smiled, tracing patterns on his chest with her fingertips. "Really. I wasn't kidding, Spence, I think about you... probably more often than I should. You're distracting."

"I'm distracting?" he mused. "You're... you. Seriously, it's a surprise I haven't completely made a fool of myself around you since we met. Especially after we all found out about your other job."

"Right... That doesn't... weird you out, does it?"

"That you used to be a stripper?"

She nodded, truthfully a little worried. She wasn't sure why, but it had always been a problem in her previous relationships, and she'd gotten used to that.

"No, of course that doesn't weird me out. I mean, I was definitely more intimidated around you, and I figured you were completely out of my league... Truthfully, I think you still might be."

"Oh, don't sell yourself short, Doctor. You're perfect, and really, if anyone was out of anyone's league here, it would be me. I'd be lucky to have you in any capacity, you know that, right?"

He blushed, bringing his forehead to rest against hers again. "Well... In any case, I really do like you, and... If it's not too weird, maybe you'd want to go out sometime?"

Warmth bloomed in her chest as she reached out and grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together. "Of course. I would love to."

***

"Make it stop," Y/N whined, covering her ears with the pillow.

Spencer stirred beside her, barely awake himself. The knocking at the door wasn't stopping, and in a huff of annoyance, Y/N decided she'd had enough.

"We're getting up!"

She only realized what she did after the door opened and Elle walked in, a shit-eating grin on her face. "Oh my God, you were in here last night! I came by your room and tried calling..."

Y/N and Spencer both froze, completely awake and now well aware of the fact that someone else knew about their... sleeping arrangement.

"Uh, yeah... Yeah, I was here. Sorry if I worried you," Y/N stammered, trying to keep her cool. "I-I promised Irene I'd stop by this morning for breakfast before we left, so I should probably do that. Do, um... Do you mind?"

Elle laughed, giving the two of her friends a once-over before nodding. "Sure thing, Little Star. Oh, and uh... Good for you, Reid, proud of you."

"Elle," Y/N groaned, clutching the covers tighter around her bare torso.

"Right. Don't be too late."

After she left, Y/N leaned over to Spencer and rubbed his arm. "I'm sorry. I probably should have—"

He stopped her by pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss. When he pulled away, his hand brushed the hair from her face and he smiled. "It's fine. I don't care who knows. I mean, as long as you don't, Petite Etoile..."

He said it with a grin reminiscent of the one Elle had just adorned, and it made Y/N laugh. She kissed him again and ruffled his hair. "I'm gonna get you for that."

"What? It suits you."

"You are not calling me by my stripper name. It's bad enough Elle and Morgan are probably gonna call me that for the rest of my life, I don't need it from you, too." She smiled as she said it, hoping that he knew she was only joking.

Either way, Spencer looked at her adoringly and took her hand in his. "Well, then... how about I just call you mine?"

"I like the sound of that."

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 3

A certain redheaded tabloid journalist tracks y/n down at work. Y/n finds out how persistent she is when she makes her an offer she just can’t refuse. 

Trigger warnings: Christianity, stalking, survivor’s guilt

You made it out alive, and that was more than could be said for some. 

Your consolation prize was a ghastly scar on your hand that you kept bandaged up as to not scare small children. You did get some worker’s comp after all; enough to pay for your medical bills and a little extra to make up for the lost workdays. All things considered, you were the lucky one. Four people lost their lives that day and three more were injured far worse than you. You should have felt grateful to be alive.

But somehow that was even worse. You got a couple stitches and some time off. It wasn’t worth four people’s lives. 

Your therapist explained it to you very gently. You were experiencing a phenomenon known as "survivor's guilt". She encouraged you to join a support group, get outside and familiarize yourself with your new experiences. 

This was good advice and all, but yours was the newest, hottest crime. You couldn't go anywhere without being hounded by reporters looking for whatever details you had somehow left out. Dr. Bloom encouraged you to take some time off work until the media circus died down, but you had bills to pay.

"I feel like there should be some rule about re-opening a restaurant within a week of it being an active crime scene." Charissa observed as she wiped down a table. "If anything, it's a health hazard."

"Are you serious?" You scoffed. You'd been tasked with refilling the salt shakers. Appropriate, because there was plenty of salt to go around. "Demand for this place has never been higher. Everyone wants to see if the blood is still on the carpet."

"Hooray for capitalism." She rolled her eyes. "Are you gonna be okay, [F/N]?"

"'Okay' is a very relative term." You forced a laugh. "I think I can make it through the shift if that's what you're asking."

"Aren't you behind the bar all evening?" She asked.

"Yeah, but that means I'm trapped." You folded your arms. "First thing you see when you walk in is the waitress who survived the- what are they calling him?"

"The Baltimore Butcher." She answered with a voice full of vitriol. "Do you think they ever consider the ramifications of giving literal murderers these weird superhero names? Like, no wonder we get copycats, they treat these guys like celebrities."

"Holy shit, right?!" You slammed the salt shaker down on the table. "Y'know, last night on the news, they used the creep's graduation photo and kept saying that he was a good Christian young man with a lot of prospects."

Charissa stuck out her tongue in disgust. "I saw that. And how he was 'corrupted' by crack cocaine. Once again, blaming a drug that was used to villainize poor Black neighborhoods in the 80's as some kind of corrupting agent."

You nodded furiously. "Instead of understanding that Christianity is a violent imperialist religion that lets violent white men absolve themselves of any guilt."

"And they knew it wasn't crack." Charissa added. "I heard that shit was completely uncut. You know he spent a lot on it."

"And I will say this until the day I am put in the goddamn ground," you tensed up. "The only reason the fucker escaped is because he is white."

"Hey y'all." Another waitress walked in for her shift. "What are we talking about?"

"Cocaine." Charissa answered. “Also white privilege.” 

"Great." She said dismissively. "Hey [F/N], can I scoop up that bar shift? I could really use the tips."

"Madison!" Charissa scolded. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What?" Madison shrugged and glanced at you. "I didn't get any paid time off. I need the money."

"Was that supposed to be a joke?" Charissa scowled. "Are you seriously joking about her trauma?!"

"It's fine, she can have it." You rolled your eyes, then turned them to Madison. "Just know you're the reason I have survivor's guilt."

"Well now I feel bad." Madison frowned.

"Good." You and Charissa said in unison.

It was sort of comforting to get back to the script. Almost nostalgic. It provided the illusion of normalcy in an incredibly abnormal new reality. 

You approached the first table in Madison’s block, hoping for a new beginning. A young woman with fiery red hair sat alone by the window. 

“Hi!” You greeted, with a smile as genuine as you could muster. “My name is [F/N], I’ll be your waiter tonight.” 

The woman smiled back. “Evening.” 

You couldn’t tell what, but something was off. Perhaps you were trying too hard to force normalcy. Or maybe it was the borderline predatory way the woman was looking at you; like a shark following a trail of blood. Either way, the vibes were rancid. 

“Can I start you off with a drink or is water okay?” You ask. 

“Could I possibly trouble you for a glass of chardonnay?” She asked, lowering her eyebrows. 

“Of course.” You nodded and reached for your pen. 

“Actually,” She corrected herself. “If you could bring a bottle and two glasses, I’m expecting company.” 

“Absolutely.” You scribble the order down on your notepad. “Do you have a preference?” 

She thought for a moment. “Oh, dealer’s choice. Whatever you prefer.” 

You soon returned to her booth with a bottle of your favorite chardonnay and two stemmed glasses. You poured a small bit in one glass to let her taste. 

“You have wonderful tastes.” She complimented, filling her glass. “It’s very delicious.” 

You rocked on your heels. “Would you like to place your order now, or do you want to wait until after your guest arrives?” 

“Actually,” she repeated, filling the other glass. “My guest is already here.” 

She slid the glass across the table and gestured to the other seat. 

You felt stupid, but there was no way to avoid this. You couldn't just not do your job. She cornered you by the confinements of your profession.

"I really can't, I'm on the clock." You said, apologetically. The wine beckoned you. "I'm sorry, maybe another time."

"Oh, bummer." The woman placed her chin in her hand and pouted. "Well, I'm sure there's something that would make your boss look the other way."

She glanced down at your bandaged hand, then met your eyes. "The bandages are a dead giveaway, [F/N] [L/N]."

You then noticed a wire sticking from her pocket. Undoubtedly some kind of recording device. You looked at the ground. "I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave."

"But who will drink all this wine?" She asked, raising her glass.

"Ma'am." Your voice hardened as you tried to bite back an overwhelming rage. "Please leave the restaurant. I'm not going to ask you again."

Your manager, Matthew, passed by. "What's going on here?"

"This waitress is being very rude." The woman complained. "I ordered chardonnay, and she brought me chablis."

"Chablis is a type of chardonnay." You corrected. Even you found it strange that this was the hill you were willing to die on. "She asked for my preference, and I prefer the unoaked varieties."

Matthew looked confused. "Well, she's right."

You gestured to her pocket and he caught on immediately. He narrowed his eyes. "Ma'am, please leave the premises or I'll be forced to call the police."

The woman stood up, rummaged through her pockets and slapped a handful of bills down on the table. She then proceeded to drink both glasses of wine and walk away.

Matthew looked at you apologetically as he collected the bills. "Are you sure you want to be here tonight? I can call in someone to cover for you."

You shook your head and grabbed the bottle by its neck. "No, it's okay. I appreciate the concern but I really just want things to go back to normal."

"Hey!" A woman from the adjacent table called out. You prepared to immediately recant your statement about not going home.

"We like chablis." The woman said, gesturing to herself and her friend.

Her friend joined in. "And if that nosy reporter lady isn't gonna drink it..."

You glanced at Matthew, who shrugged. "Sure. It's yours."

The women exchanged delighted looks as you placed the bottle on their table. Matthew handed you a couple of clean glasses and you began to pour.

"For this wine, I suggest any of our wonderful seafood dishes." You explained, your cheeks stinging with a smile. "It also pairs quite nicely with chicken and game bird."

"Thank you." One of the women said. "If you don't mind, we'd like to take a look at the menu, please."

"Of course." You nodded. "Just flag me down whenever you're ready."

"This is why I put you behind the bar, by the way." Matthew gently scolded you as you collected the soiled glasses.

"Didn't you hear?" You said. "Madison needs the money because we can't all have paid time off."

"You should have come to me first." He sighed. "She has no right to say those things to you."

"Never stopped her before." You shrugged.

"I'll talk with her after the dinner rush." He said. "Just... try not to get cornered tonight, okay?"

"I'll do my best." You answered, flatly. “Because that’s definitely something I can control.” 

The rest of your shift went smoothly, or, as smoothly as could be expected given the circumstances. The nosy reporter was right, your bandage was a dead giveaway. You had to dodge a couple of questions, but most people had enough decorum to know the wound--metaphorical and literal--was still fresh. 

You said goodbye to Matthew and Charissa, collected your things and walked out to your car. You put the key in the ignition, only to find your gas tank was completely empty. You had just filled it that morning. 

You bit back a scream and fought the urge to slam your head against the steering wheel. Throwing the door open, you mentally prepared yourself to either make a long trek to the nearest gas station, or beat someone up.

“Looking for this?” A smug voice said over the cicadas. 

You turned around and saw the nosy reporter from before holding up a canister. A deep, blistering fury overtook your face as you slammed the car door. “You siphoned my fucking gas?” 

 “It’s not like you left me with much choice, [F/N].” She crossed her arms. “You’ll get it back once you answer my questions.” 

You threw your head back in disbelief. “You’re Freddie Lounds, aren’t you?” 

“I see I’m not the only one who does my research.” She said, looking a bit impressed. “How’d you know?” 

“It’s the first thing that comes up when you search ‘unethical crime journalists Baltimore’.” You answered. “There’s a whole flair dedicated to you on the subreddit for murder survivors.” 

Freddie seemed proud of herself. “Need a ride?” 

“I’d rather drive off a cliff.” You said, honestly, before turning around to leave. 

“Where are you going?” She walked after you. 

“To get more fucking gas, you evil bitch.” You shouted back. “Are you gonna follow me to the BP too?” 

“Look, I heard what you were saying to your friend.” She called out. “About white privilege.”

“Yeah,” You rolled your eyes. “It’s the same privilege that allows you to siphon a stranger’s gas and sit in a parking lot all night without getting arrested.”

“And I agree with you.” She hurried to your side, her chunky platform boots clacking against the asphalt. “They did you dirty and they’re shooting themselves in the foot by not listening to you.” 

You turned around and threw up your arms. “Why didn’t you just lead with that?”

“I invited you to sit down over a bottle of wine, did I not?” Freddie chuckled. 

“Cornering me at work is not a gesture of goodwill.” You huffed. “And I actually do want to put my story out there, but all you’re accomplishing by stalking me is guaranteeing you won’t be the one to do it.” 

“Are you really in a position to be that selective?” Freddie smirked and placed all her weight on one hip. 

You groaned. “What?” 

“The Baltimore Butcher is still out there, and you won’t be the hot new victim forever.” She grinned sadistically. “Soon enough, him or some other psycho is going to strike, and your fifteen minutes of fame are up.” 

“Good. Then I can go back to living my life.” You said. 

“But what if his next victim is a Christian?” Freddie grabbed your shoulder. “What if the next person who narrowly avoids getting their throat slashed decides to go on record and say that he doesn’t represent ‘real Christianity’?” 

You went quiet. You hadn’t considered it, but the thought of anyone downplaying his faith as a motivation made your blood boil. You looked into the man’s eyes and saw a person driven to kill for his god. A god he shared with the crusaders, conquistadors and slavers. 

“...but it does. Christians colonized half the planet for--” 

You stopped yourself when you saw Freddie’s smile. 

“You want to get on your soapbox, now’s your chance.” She bit her lip. “Take control of the conversation while you still can.” 

“Fine.” You spat. “I get off work tomorrow at four.” 

Freddie shoved the gas can into your hands. “I’ll see you then.”