#this is exactly what she wants and i would have liked something different for her

[monzabee]

the nanny - a. hotchner

criminal minds masterlist || part of the nanny series

Summary: there is a mysterious woman visiting hotch’s office... it’s his nanny? 

Pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

Word Count: 1.1k 

Warnings: nosy profilers, other than that none  

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

“Excuse me, can you point me to the direction of Aaron Hotchner’s office?”  

Thirteen words.  

Thirteen words is exactly what it takes for the BAU to lose their minds over the fact that there is a woman who is visiting their boss.  

“Do you think that’s his girlfriend?” Penelope whispers, failing rather miserably, as they watch you retreat into Hotch’s office.  

Emily’s eyebrows raise at the insinuation, “No way, when was the last time Hotch was even on a date?” 

“Not for at least two years,” Spencer scoffs, earning glaring looks from three of his co-workers. “What?” He asks, innocently shrugging his shoulders.  

“Look at her,” JJ shakes her head, she isn’t she isn’t convinced. “She doesn’t seem like just a random visitor.” 

“Maybe she’s a lawyer,” Derek offers, arms crossed as he leans against the desk. “Or, God forbid, a new profiler.” 

Penelope gasps dramatically, pouting. “Another profiler? In our sacred little family?” 

“I don’t think so.” Emily tilts her head, watching through the glass windows of Hotch’s office. “He doesn’t look like he’s briefing her. He looks… I don’t know. Different.” 

“Different how?” Spencer asks, squinting as if he could analyze the interaction better. 

Before anyone can respond, the blinds to Hotch’s office suddenly snap shut. The team collectively inhales. 

“Oh my God.” Penelope clutches at Derek’s arm. “He never closes the blinds. Never.” 

JJ exhales, shaking her head. “I don’t know what’s crazier. The fact that Hotch might actually be dating someone… or the fact that none of us had any idea.” 

If there is one thing Aaron Hotchner is good at, it would be compartmentalizing. He had to, as a unit chief who wanted to protect his team from all the bureaucratic headache that he had to endure, or as a father who wanted to shield his son from his line of work as much as possible.  

So, it came as no surprise to him to not talk about his nanny—well, not his nanny per se, but rather Jack’s nanny.  

“You’ve caused quite a scene downstairs, you know that, right?” Aaron asks you as he makes his way back to his desk from the small window overlooking the ballpen.  

“I only asked them where to find your office,” you shrug, hands folded primly on your lap — something rather uncharacteristic now that Aaron realizes. “They were very nice, though.” 

Aaron sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They're not used to seeing unfamiliar faces here. Especially in my office.” 

You raise an amused brow. “I figured as much from the way they all gawked at me like I had grown a second head.” 

He exhales, shaking his head. “You should've called. I would've met you downstairs.” 

“And miss the chance to see your team’s collective meltdown?” You smirk, crossing one leg over the other. “No way.” 

Hotch gives you a pointed look, but there's the ghost of a smile threatening to break through his usual stoic expression. “What are you doing here?” 

“I brought you lunch,” you simply shrug, placing the brown paper bag on his desk and leaning back into the chair, “I got you a sandwich from that place you like near the park.” 

Hotch looks at the bag, then back at you, his expression unreadable. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

You roll your eyes. “I know I didn’t have to. But let’s be honest, you were either going to skip lunch entirely or eat some sad excuse for a meal at your desk.” 

Aaron exhales through his nose, the closest thing to amusement you’ve seen from him in days. “I eat just fine.” 

You arch an eyebrow. “Last week, I caught you eating dry cereal straight from the box while reviewing case files.” He opens his mouth to say something in retaliation, but you stop him before he can get a word out, “Do not even dare to say it was late, I left you a whole plate of food out.” 

He gives you a pointed look, but you only grin in response. There’s a beat of silence before he reaches for the bag, opening it to inspect the contents. His lips press together in what you assume is reluctant approval. “Roast beef?” he asks. 

“With extra mustard, just how you like it,” you confirm. “I even got you one of those overpriced iced teas you pretend not to like.” 

He pulls out the bottle, eyes flicking up to you in mild disbelief. “I should consider adding you to my team.” 

“Jack and I have a system,” you reply breezily as you shrug again. “He tells me your weird habits, and I use them against you.” 

That actually earns you a soft chuckle, and for a brief moment, he looks lighter. Less like the hardened unit chief, more like the man who lets his son climb onto his back during bedtime stories. 

But the moment doesn’t last long. His gaze shifts back to you, more serious now. “Was this really just a lunch delivery, or is there something else?” 

Damn profilers. You hesitate, then sigh. “Jack asked me to check on you.” Hotch stills. “He’s fine,” you add quickly, knowing where his mind just went. “He just… he worries. He said you looked ‘extra tired’ this morning, which, considering your usual level of exhaustion, is saying something, and I’d thought I’d check up on you.” 

Aaron closes his eyes briefly before exhaling. “I don’t want him worrying about me.” 

“He’s a kid, Mister Hotchner. He’s going to worry about his dad.” You soften your tone. “And honestly? I get it. You do look extra tired.” 

He looks at you then, really looks at you, as if trying to figure out how you always manage to see right through him. 

“You know,” you say, leaning forward slightly, “you’re allowed to take a break every once in a while. Eat your sandwich. Maybe even come home before Jack falls asleep tonight.” 

Hotch doesn’t answer right away, but eventually, he reaches for the sandwich, unwrapping it with a sigh of resignation. “I’ll try.” 

“Good,” you say with a satisfied nod, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off your skirt. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go face the firing squad out there. I’m assuming Penelope is probably two seconds away from storming in here for answers.” 

Hotch smirks, shaking his head. “You brought this on yourself.” 

“I promised Jack,” you say over your shoulder before heading toward the door. 

And sure enough, the second you step out of the office, six pairs of eyes snap to you, curiosity burning in their expressions. 

You grin. “What? Never seen someone bring their boss lunch before?” 

You can hear the pandemonium that ensues as you make your way towards the exit. 

[starsinthesky5]

what about joe? is he mr. possessive too?

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

oh, absolutely. joe is just as possessive, if not more. i mean, look at who he's with? millions of men and women had their hearts broken the moment the first photo of joe and her surfaced. plenty of people want her, but they just can’t have her…and joe makes sure of that ;)

the difference is that while she wears her possessiveness and jealousy like a statement piece--subtle but unmistakable--joe’s possessiveness is quieter, more controlled. but don’t get me wrong, it’s there, bubbling just beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to show itself. he was always, and i mean always calm, cool, and collected. on and off the field.

like when some random guy gets a little too comfortable in her space, touching her arm when he laughs at something she said, or leaning in just a little too close. joe doesn’t make a scene, doesn’t immediately pull her away, but his hand finds the small of her back, fingers spreading wide across her skin. he does that to not only calm himself, but calm her in case she ever felt uncomfortable from any of the attention she received, and sometimes she did. sometimes the looks would linger a second longer than they were meant to, sometimes a touch felt more forceful than playful, and sometimes she could sense the unspoken intentions behind a seemingly harmless gesture.

and when joe noticed (which was always) his eyes darkened, his jaw tightened, and anyone paying attention would know--he was warning them.

nobody is about to mess with his girl while he’s right there. nope. not happening. her comfort, safety, and happiness was his number 1 priority at any given time.

but he wouldn't always become possessive because he felt the need to protect her, there were some moments when she wore something that makes her look so good it physically hurt, and he believed that only he was meant to see her looking like this. he won’t tell her to change--he loves when she looks good, loves when she feels confident--but his hand stays on her, a silent reminder to everyone else that she’s his.

doesn't matter where, her hip, her thigh, her back, her arm...his hand is there.

and then there are moments when it’s just them--when the world fades away and all that’s left is heat and hunger and him. when he’s pressing her into the mattress, hands everywhere, touch burning and possessive. his breath is hot against her skin, sending shivers down her spine as he murmurs, "mine. say it."

but it’s not just a request--it’s a demand.

his fingers tighten on her hips, holding her there, keeping her exactly where he wants her. his lips trace a slow path down her neck, his teeth grazing over sensitive skin, making her whimper. he knows exactly what he’s doing, how to push her to the edge before he’s even inside her. she’s breathless, dizzy with need, but he won’t move until he hears it.

"joe--,".

his grip tightens. "baby, say it,".

his voice is rough, wrecked, on the edge of losing control. she arches into him, nails raking down his back, eyes hazy with desire as she gasps, "yours. i’m yours, i promise,".

and that’s all it takes.

—

so, yes--mr. possessive is very much alive and breathing. and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

he never took it too far, never made it feel intimidating or aggressive. he was protective over her, and she was extremely grateful for that (mostly because her exes could never come close to how joe was so...man. does that even make sense? like 6'4, muscles for days, piercing blue eyes, and a smile that shined brighter than the rarest jewels in the world. like he was so man. so knight-in-shining armor coded). you know those tweets asking if a celebrities ex could fight because their significant other looked so damn gorgeous and the fans want a piece of that? well, prior to joe, her exes, no matter which one, would easily be mauled by the heard of fans that rode for her. they didn’t stand a chance.

but joe? oh, joey b knew how to fight.

oh, and he knew how exactly lucky he was to have stolen her heart, and she loved knowing that he never took that for granted. he was honestly wrapped around her pretty little finger, but in the best, most precious way possible.

his possessiveness came solely from a place of love, because joe burrow was not keen on the idea of sharing the best thing that quite literally had ever happened to him, with the entire world.

for example:

mr. possessive™ at paris fashion week.

—

she looks stunning. like, jaw-droppingly, heart-stoppingly, paris-just-declared-her-a-national-treasure stunning.

joe knew she would, duh. he’s seen her in everything, and more importantly, in nothing, but there’s something about the way she carries herself tonight--graceful, confident, walking beside him like she belongs on the cover of vogue--that has him feeling some type of way.

or maybe it’s the way everyone is looking at her that's affecting him--because everyone is looking at her.

the event is a who’s who of the fashion world, and they’re here as guests, dressed to the nines, mingling with designers, models, and celebrities. but no matter where they go, no matter who they talk to, joe can feel eyes on her. the cameras flashed like crazy when they arrived, the crowd buzzing with excitement as they made their way inside. she’s a star in her own right, and joe loves that. loves that she’s not just known as his girlfriend--she’s her.

multi-platinum, award-winning singer-songwriter. the pop princess herself.

like, hell yeah. he's her boyfriend if anything.

but with that title and prestige, those looks and eyes came naturally. one guy in particular--some too-pretty-for-his-own-good european actor type--has been looking at her a little too long.

joe notices it when they first arrive. then again during cocktail hour. and now, as they make their way to their seats for the show, pretty boy is back, standing just a few feet away, sipping his champagne and watching.

joe clenches his jaw, his fingers flexing slightly where they rest against her lower back.

she hasn’t noticed yet, too busy talking with the designer of the show they’re about to watch, laughing softly at something she says. joe loves her laugh, loves that she’s having fun, but it’s hard to focus when this guy is still looking at her like she’s up for auction.

and then--get this--he actually makes his move.

what a stupid, stupid mistake.

the guy steps forward, a confident smile on his lips as he says something to her in french--because of course he does.

joe doesn’t even give her a chance to respond. before she can turn to acknowledge him, joe is there.

his arm loops around her waist, pulling her close against his side, his hand splaying possessively across her hipbone. the move is effortless, smooth, like it was always meant to happen, but it’s intentional as hell.

she tenses slightly, finally catching on, and oh, she loves this. she doesn’t get to see jealous, possessive joe be so bold like this, but when she does?

it’s hot.

the actor’s smirk doesn’t falter, so either he was oblivious as hell or he had a death wish. "i was just telling her she looked stunning tonight,".

joe lifts a brow, expression unreadable but voice smooth. "yeah? you and half of pairs,".

the guy chuckles, clearly unbothered by the comment. "can you blame us?".

joe doesn’t answer him, because he's still seething about his smooth, buttery, alluring french accent (even though it did bother joe a teeny bit because of how he remembered her saying she thought accents were cute).

instead, he tilts her chin up and kisses her.

not just a quick kiss--a statement.

it’s sluggish, deep, possessive. a conscious show of who she belongs to. his hands slid up and down her sides, his lips mashed closer to hers, the soft sighs started coming from her mouth. damn.

when he pulls away, the actor is just...gone.

and she? she’s breathless.

joe smirks, brushing his thumb over her lips before murmuring, "you’re mine, baby. and i don’t share,".

she hums, pressing a teasing kiss to his jaw. "mmm. you like when they want me, don’t you?".

he exhales sharply, because she’s not wrong. "i like reminding them they can’t have you,".

[beneathsilverstars]

i love to explain my opinions so here's my actual drinking headcanons

siffrin - doesn't seem to get tipsy. he mostly just gets less anxious, which means he's less worried about saying the wrong thing but also less concerned with pushing himself to talk, so he's basically behaving the same way and just having different emotions about it! they appear perfectly stone-cold sober until they eventually suddenly hit drunk drunk and now they're liable to fall flat on their face and not remember it the next morning. takes a while to get there though, they may be small but they're also prone to alcoholism. (drinking to self-medicate mental illness is not a good idea, everyone.)

mirabelle - thinks beer smells nasty; wine's better, but grape juice is one of the worst fruit juices to begin with so eh. she'll have a hard cider on occasion or a fruity mixed drink, but only one and maybe not even the whole thing. she doesn't like feeling weird and she gets worried about acting weird!

isabeau - gets tipsy on half a mixed drink and then gets steadily more drunk from there. historically hasn't gone past two drinks in a row for fear of messing up his himbo persona, though he metabolizes it fast enough that if he's staying out late he can have another drink or two. being drunk turns isabeau into even more of a clown; he wants to have fun and he wants everyone else to have fun and more importantly he wants them to like him!! he'll fetch the next round, tip generously, share his food, join unwise schemes just because someone asked him to and pointing out the risks would make him seem like a square, etc.

odile - would drink vodka straight out of the bottle and get reckless as a youth. good thing cars don't exist! she no longer believes that she's too smart to make stupid decisions, but she still likes to cut loose with a couple shots, which she's very consistent about: she knows exactly how much alcohol will get her pleasantly buzzed without leading to a hangover. she's a lot more open and social when she's drunk. she's happy enough with her usual dry humor and too-old-for-this attitude, but sometimes it's nice to have an excuse to get uncharacteristically silly and dramatic for an evening instead!

pétronille: doesn't drink. she says it's because she has too many responsibilities, but she doesn't like to be around drunk people, either.

euphrasie: likes wine. she might have a glass or two to unwind after a long day, or pop open a nice vintage on a special occasion. she's willing to try other drinks, but she already knows what she likes the best and she's definitely not looking to get wasted. being too impaired makes it hard to do all the things she wants to do! she's more affectionate when she's tipsy, which is saying something because she's already quite enthusiastic and loving and touchy.

claude: prefers other substances, but isn't opposed to drinking. she's not picky about what the drink is, though she likes to try weird mixed drinks and euphrasie's wines and homemade brews. she doesn't see the point of having one or two drinks; if she's having more than a sip then she's getting blasted. she isn't a very inhibited person anyway, so she's not very different while drunk, just even louder and more distractible.

loop: can't get drunk because they can't consume anything. if they could, and weren't pulled into the party by siffrin immediately post-canon, they'd be physically dependent on alcohol within a month.

[callmemonster68]

SUNOO - Beyond Appearances ( smut )

You always thought Sunoo was just your gay friend—sweet, trustworthy, harmless. But after a little accident in the bathroom, he started acting different...

Pairing: Sunoo X FemReader (Masterlist)

Genre: Smut

Warning: Contains explicit content, unprotected sex, suggestive, penetration, explicit language, climax, sex, swearing, hickeys, messy make-out sessions, dirty talk, compliments, rough sex, touching bruises

Y/N and Sunoo have always been inseparable. He was that friend who broke into your house without warning, stole food from your fridge and threw himself into your bed without ceremony. Your conversations ranged from gossip about each other to spicy details about your crushes – well, your crushes, since Sunoo never seemed very interested in anyone.

Y/N: Don't you have a type? (he asked, throwing a grape in his mouth while the two watched a reality show)

Sunoo: Oh, I don't know. Not a guy interests me that much. (he responded with a shrug, without even taking his eyes off the screen)

For Y/N, this only confirmed what she always knew: Sunoo was gay. After all, he loved skincare, danced to TikTok videos better than anyone and knew how to combine colors like no one else. And, of course, he had never shown interest in any girl.

You were so intimate that he would enter the bathroom while you were brushing your teeth, going through your clothes to help you choose a look and even giving you his opinion on your new lingerie.

Sunoo: This one screams "eat me now" (he said it once, holding up a lacy red ensemble)

Y/N: Exactly what I want it to scream. (replied with a mischievous smile)

They both laughed, as always. No tension, no ulterior motives. Because for Y/N, Sunoo was safe.

Until one day, something changed.

It was a day like any other. Y/N had just gotten out of the shower, the towel stuck to her body as she looked in the mirror, playing with her damp strands.

That's when Sunoo entered the bathroom without warning. As he always did.

Sunoo: Hey, did you see my…

The towel slipped off the instant the door closed behind him.

Time seemed to stop. Y/N stood completely naked in front of him.

Sunoo froze. His wide-eyed gaze swept over her body in an involuntary reflex before he forced himself to look away, turning around with such haste that he banged his elbow on the door.

Sunoo: M-my God! (voice was shaky, breathing was uneven)

Y/N laughed, pulling the towel back leisurely, completely comfortable.

Y/N: Oh, Sunoo, there's no need to despair (he joked) That doesn't even interest you.

Silence.

She expected him to respond with a mocking comment, something like "of course not, darling" or "please, I've seen better bodies." But he didn't say anything.

Y/N frowned.

Y/N: Sunoo?

He was still on his back, his shoulders tense, his breathing a little too heavy. When he finally turned to face her, there was something different in his dark eyes.

Something that has never been there before.

The bathroom incident should have been just that: an accident. But after that day, Sunoo started acting... strange.

Nothing blatant, nothing too obvious. But Y/N knew him too well not to notice.

Before, he plopped down on the sofa next to her without ceremony. Now, there was a subtle hesitation before sitting down, as if he was too aware of the closeness between the two.

Before, he helped her choose clothes without blinking. Now I avoided looking at her for too long when she asked, "Is that dress too short?"

Before, he joked about his encounters, his experiences, his adventures. Now he was silent when she talked about other guys.

But it was when Y/N started to tease him that the reactions became more interesting.

One night, while packing her clothes to go out, she changed into a skintight dress and turned to him with a mischievous smile.

Y/N: And then? Too vulgar? (he asked, turning on his heel)

It was an old game. Sunoo always gave a sharp comment, sometimes exaggerated, sometimes dramatic.

But this time, instead of rolling his eyes and joking, he blinked slowly, as if he was having a thought he shouldn't have.

Sunoo: It's… beautiful.

The tone of voice was not mocking. It was low. Serious. As if he had forgotten for a second that he was "just a friend."

Y/N raised her eyebrow, crossing her arms.

Y/N: Just pretty?

He licked his lips, looked away, and for a split second he looked uncomfortable.

Sunoo: What do you want me to say? (he retorted) That you look hot?

It was an ironic comment, but the problem wasn't what he said. That's the way he said it.

As if he was thinking about it.

The silence that followed was longer than it should have been.

Sunoo cleared his throat and stood up too quickly.

Sunoo: I'll get some water (he said, disappearing from the room before she could question anything else)

Y/N stood there, feeling the energy in the air.

Something was different.

And she wanted to know exactly what it was.

Y/N noticed the changes in Sunoo, but in her head, there was only one explanation: he must be going through something. Maybe he was confused, maybe he was dealing with insecurities, or maybe… he was discovering himself in a way that she didn't yet understand.

But that didn't mean she wasn't going to have some fun.

So he started testing.

Nothing too obvious. Just little teases.

Like when they were watching a movie together, and she decided to lie on his lap instead of the couch. Normally, Sunoo would absentmindedly run his fingers through her hair, comfortable in their intimacy. But this time, he was tense. Hands still, rigid at his sides.

Y/N: You're feeling strangely stuck today. (he joked, looking up)

Sunoo forced a laugh.

Sunoo: I'm just tired.

Liar.

And she started noticing more signs.

The next day, Y/N wore a tight crop top and short shorts while putting on makeup. Sunoo was lying on her bed, on his cell phone, as usual.

Or at least that's what she thought.

When she turned to pick up some lipstick, she caught him looking at the reflection in the mirror.

It was fast. But it was enough.

She smiled, having fun.

Y/N: Help me choose the color? Red or nude?

Sunoo looked away too quickly, picking up the first lipstick without even looking.

Sunoo: Whatever.

Y/N to them.

Y/N: Since when do you have no opinion on makeup?

He pursed his lips.

Sunoo: Since you started interrogating me for everything.

Y/N narrowed her eyes, moving closer and crossing her arms.

Y/N: Are you hiding something from me?

Sunoo: For God's sake, Y/N.

She laughed, tossing the lipstick aside and turning back to the mirror.

She still thought he was gay.

She just didn't realize that he was making everything more and more difficult for him.

Sunoo was acting strange.

Not the way he used to, when he just hesitated or was uncomfortable with some situations. Now, he was actually avoiding Y/N.

The answers were short. Messages took longer to be responded to. When she asked him out, he made excuses.

And Y/N started to feel uncomfortable.

On Wednesday night, she was sitting at a bar, tapping the end of her straw against her glass as she vented to Jake, the only mutual friend they had.

Y/N: He's avoiding me. (she mumbled, throwing her head back)

Jake arched his eyebrow.

Jake: Are you sure?

Y/N: Yes! Before, was acting strange. Now he practically runs away from me!

Jake took a sip of his beer and frowned.

Jake: Did you do something?

Y/N: No! I just... (she stopped, biting her lip) Okay, I kind of started testing him.

Jake: Test?

Y/N: Yes. Like… he was all weird after that day in the bathroom.

Jake: What day in the bathroom?

Y/N sighed and told everything. About how Sunoo had seen her naked by accident, how he reacted differently, and how he had since seemed uncomfortable around her.

Y/N: But he's gay, so it doesn't make sense! (she concluded, exasperated)

Jake was silent for a moment, just looking at her.

And then he asked, calmly:

Jake: Y/N… did he ever say he was gay?

She blinked.

Y/N: What?

Jake: Did he ever tell you that? Or did you just… assume?

She opened her mouth to respond, but no response came.

Because, for the first time, doubt arose.

Y/N always assumed Sunoo was gay. For the cute clothes, for the sharp personality, for the extravagant manner. He never talked about liking women, so she just concluded that he didn't.

But…

She never asked.

Jake laughed softly when he saw her expression change.

Jake: Guess you have some conversations to have, huh?

Y/N spent the next two days mulling over the conversation with Jake.

She tried to recall a time when Sunoo had confirmed that he was gay. Some conversation, some sentence, anything. But all he found were his own conclusions.

And now he was running away from her.

If before she just wanted to tease him for fun, now it was a test by fire.

And she wanted answers.

So, that Friday, she decided to take action.

Sunoo was sitting alone in the college library, concentrating on his notebook, as if he was trying to become invisible. It was ridiculous.

Y/N approached silently, sliding into the chair next to him as if nothing was happening.

Y/N: Hi, missing (he hummed, resting his chin in his hand)

Sunoo tensed his shoulders, but didn't look at her.

Sunoo: Hi.

The coldness in his voice only made Y/N smile even more.

Y/N: Are you avoiding me?

Sunoo: No.

She laughed.

Y/N: So that means if I do this...(she ran her fingers down his arm, very slowly, as if she were distracted) You won't freak out?

Sunoo froze.

And that's when she realized.

He didn't move away.

But he didn't look at her either.

Interesting.

Y/N: It's getting hot in here, right? (she commented innocently, pulling her own coat and leaving her shoulders exposed. Then, she leaned closer, right next to his ear) Or is it just me?

Sunoo took a deep breath.

Sunoo: Y/N…

Y/N: What happened? (she whispered, making her voice purposefully sweet)

He clenched his fists.

Sunoo: You need to stop.

She pulled away a little, blinking her eyes with false innocence.

Y/N: Stop what? We've always been like this, Sunoo. You always let me touch you. Never bothered.

Sunoo finally looked at her.

And it was there, in that dark look filled with something that Y/N still didn't fully understand, that she felt like maybe she was playing with fire.

But did that make her want to stop?

Not at all.

Y/N: Come to my house for dinner today (suggested casually, leaning over to pick up her cell phone on the table, but purposely leaving her cleavage visible for a second longer)

Sunoo looked away so quickly he almost broke his neck.

Sunoo: I can't (he muttered, closing the notebook suddenly)

She laughed, tossing her hair back.

Y/N: Oh, yes you can. You always can. It's going to look weird if you start saying no now.

Sunoo clenched his jaw.

Y/N noticed.

She also noticed when he sighed in defeat and nodded, somewhat reluctantly.

Sunoo: It's OK.

That's how, a few hours later, they were in her apartment. As they have always been so many times before.

But nothing was the same as before.

Sunoo knew this. Y/N knew that.

She prepared a simple dinner as usual. But as he stirred the food in the pan, he made sure to do everything at the slowest pace possible, his hip movements exaggeratedly lazy, knowing that Sunoo was there, sitting at the counter, watching.

He didn't speak. He just stood there, touching his own glass, without looking at her directly.

Y/N smiled to herself.

After dinner, they plopped down on the couch to watch a movie, like they always did. But now she wanted to test it a little more.

So, instead of sitting in the opposite corner like Sunoo clearly wanted, Y/N lay down on the couch, with her head resting on his lap.

It was there that she felt it.

Sunoo's breathing became slower, almost heavy.

He was tense again.

Y/N closed her eyes and sighed.

Y/N: I love that we have this freedom (mumbled) It's so good to have a friend who will never look at me any other way.

Sunoo swallowed.

She noticed.

And smiled.

Y/N: Like, I can lay on your lap like this and it will never mean anything. (she continued, stretching a little more, feeling his body lock under her)

Nothing. He didn't say anything.

She bit her lip.

Y/N: That's why I always knew you were gay (said, without filter) You never looked at me differently. It was never dull. You never bothered with me around.

Now he moved.

Sunoo slid a little on the couch, as if trying to create a distance that simply didn't exist.

Sunoo: I'm going to get water (he said suddenly, pushing her away with a sudden movement and practically fleeing to the kitchen)

Y/N laughed softly.

She was sure now.

And she wasn't going to stop until he broke it completely.

Sunoo didn't return to the sofa.

After getting the water, he stayed in the kitchen for too long, leaning against the sink, with his back to the living room, as if he needed to catch his breath.

Y/N took advantage.

She stood up silently, walking over to him.

Y/N: Sunoo...(called softly, stopping right behind him)

He remained motionless.

She smiled.

Y/N: What happened? (she teased, dragging her fingers down his spine, lightly, only to see his body stiffen) Why are you so nervous lately?

Sunoo: I'm not nervous.

Y/N: No? So look at me.

Silence.

Sunoo didn't turn around.

And Y/N took advantage of that.

She moved even closer, pressing her body to his, her arms slipping around his waist as if it were something innocent.

Y/N: You look weird, you know that? (she whispered close to his ear) Before, you didn't care about anything I did. Now it seems like he can barely stand near me.

She felt him hold his breath.

Y/N: Why are you running away?

Nothing.

Sunoo looked like a statue, holding onto the counter as if his life depended on it.

Y/N smiled against his skin and raised her hands a little higher, running her fingers over the lower part of her belly.

Y/N: That doesn't interest you, remember? (she whispered, cruelly reminding him of what she had said that day in the bathroom)

And that's when it happened.

Too fast.

Too brutal.

Sunoo suddenly turned around, catching her by surprise, holding her by the wrists and pinning her against the kitchen counter.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat.

His eyes were different.

Dark.

Sunoo: Stop (he growled, but his voice sounded anything but firm)

Y/N looked at him, at his heavy breathing, at the grip on his wrists.

And then she smiled, mischievously.

Y/N: Or what?

Sunoo closed his eyes tightly, as if he was fighting an internal war.

Y/N licked her lips.

She didn't know if he would finally give in or if he would run again.

But now, anyway…

She knew he wanted it.

Sunoo was still holding her wrists. Strong but hesitant.

He was breathing heavily, his eyes fixed on hers as if trying to find a way out.

Y/N noticed this.

And he decided he wouldn't let him get away.

Y/N: What happened? (she whispered, her voice oozing venom and sweetness at the same time)

Sunoo didn't respond.

Then she leaned in a little more, touching her nose to his chin, feeling his warm breath against her skin.

Y/N: You're holding me like you're going to do something (he continued, his eyes shining with provocation) But I know you won't.

His grip faltered for a second.

And that's when Y/N decided to end him once and for all.

She moved her hips slightly, the touch almost imperceptible, but enough for him to feel it.

Sunoo held her breath.

She smiled.

Y/N: None of that interests you, right?

It was the last straw.

In an instant, he let go of her wrists.

In the next second, he grabbed her waist and pushed her sharply, placing her against the kitchen counter.

Y/N barely had time to react.

Sunoo moved closer to her even closer, his fingers digging into her skin, and when he looked at her this time, there was no more hesitation.

Sunoo: Shut up.

His voice sounded hoarser than ever, as if he had ripped something inside him.

Y/N's eyes lit up.

She licked her lips, sliding her hands slowly down his chest, feeling every tense muscle beneath her fingers.

Y/N: Are you going to shut me up? (provoked, defiant)

Sunoo took a deep breath, holding her face with both hands.

Y/N felt his breath tremble against her mouth.

And then…

He gave in.

The kiss was fierce.

Hunger contained. Anger. Lust. Everything mixed into a burning contact.

Y/N grabbed his hair, pulling hard, and that's how it felt: the shiver running through Sunoo's body, the muffled moan against his lips, the way he gave himself as if he were hungry.

He was lost.

And she finally got what she wanted.

But now…

Now, she wanted more.

The kiss was still burning on Y/N's lips when Sunoo pulled away abruptly, her eyes wide as if she had just committed a crime.

Sunoo: Shit... (he whispered, putting a hand to his mouth, as if to erase what just happened)

Y/N watched as he took a step back.

And I knew right away that he was going to run away.

But this time, she wasn't going to let him.

Before he could move any further, Y/N grabbed his wrist and pulled him back closer, forcing him to face her.

Y/N: Where do you think you're going? (he asked, his voice calm but sharp)

Sunoo swallowed hard, looking away.

Sunoo: That was a mistake… (mumbled)

Y/N laughed, sarcastically.

Y/N: A mistake? So tell me why you're shaking.

He didn't respond.

She tightened her grip on his wrist.

Y/N: Answer me, Sunoo.

He closed his eyes tightly, his shoulders tensed, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Sunoo: I don't... I can't do this to you.

Y/N: Do what? Want me?

He clenched his jaw.

Y/N: Don't you want me?

Silence.

Sunoo didn't deny it.

And Y/N noticed.

She let out a low laugh, pulling him even closer, so close that she felt his breath hitch against her face.

Y/N: So tell me, Sunoo… Why did you let me believe all this time that you were gay?

He remained motionless.

His dark eyes, full of guilt and something else he was trying to hide.

Y/N: Say.

He closed his hands into fists.

Sunoo: Because it was easier that way.

Y/N frowned.

Y/N: What do you mean?

Sunoo took a deep breath, her lips trembling before finally releasing the words:

Sunoo: Because I always wanted you. From the beginning.

Y/N felt her heart race.

But Sunoo didn't stop.

Sunoo: But I knew I would never have a chance. You always saw me as your gay friend, your harmless best friend. If I tried anything, you would push me away. So I let you believe that.

The confession fell heavily between the two.

Sunoo looked exhausted, as if he had just been stripped of a secret that had been consuming him for years.

Y/N bit her lip, feeling a wave of excitement and adrenaline course through her body.

Y/N: And now? (she whispered)

Sunoo looked up.

His eyes were wild, but still filled with fear.

Sunoo: Now... (he murmured, his voice hoarse) I can't stop anymore.

Y/N sorriu.

Y/N: Then don't stop.

Sunoo was completely still.

The chest rising and falling quickly, the mouth half-open, the eyes still carrying that internal conflict.

But Y/N didn't want any more conflict.

She wanted him to give in.

She wanted him to beg.

She wanted him to take her without thinking.

And to do that, I needed to push him until there was nothing left but pure desire.

Y/N: You can't stop anymore, can you? (she whispered, her fingers sliding down his chest, feeling the tension pulsing under his skin)

Sunoo didn't respond.

He just swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on her as if he already knew where this was going, but was still trying to fight it.

She smiled.

Slowly, she ran her hands over his shoulders and up to his neck, her fingers lightly playing with the strands of hair on the back of his neck.

Y/N: So don't stop, Sunoo...

He held his breath.

Y/N leaned in more, placing her lips on his jaw, feeling the tremor that ran through her body at the same moment.

Y/N: You've wanted me for so long... (she murmured against his skin, leaving slow kisses along his neck) Why are you still hesitating?

Sunoo's hands went to his waist, squeezing tightly, but he remained still, as if he needed one last push.

Y/N smiled against his skin.

Y/N: Or do you want me to beg?

And then, she slid her leg between his, pressing her body against him, feeling the undeniable proof that he wanted her.

Sunoo let out a muffled moan, his fingers digging deeper into your waist.

Y/N looked up and met his eyes.

They were different.

There was no more hesitation.

Just hungry.

And that's when he finally broke.

In an instant, he grabbed her face and kissed her again, but this time, there was no retreat.

The kiss was wild.

Desperate.

His fingers tightened around her body, pulling her closer, as if he wanted to feel every inch of her pressed against his.

Y/N smiled against his lips.

She won.

And now, Sunoo was completely hers.

Sunoo kissed her as if he were hungry, as if every second he spent holding back now needed to be made up for.

His fingers explored her body without hesitation, and Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine when she realized how strong and firm he held her.

She smiled against his lips, sliding her hands down his chest, pushing him back slightly.

Y/N: Calm down, Sunoo… (she murmured, provocatively, her eyes shining) I thought you were more… sweet.

Sunoo stood still for a second, breathing heavily.

Then he tilted his head, watching her with something different in his eyes.

Something dangerous.

Sunoo: Sweet? (he repeated, a slow, dark smile appearing on his lips)

Y/N felt butterflies in her stomach.

Before she could react, Sunoo grabbed her waist and pulled her tightly, putting their bodies together again.

Sunoo: You spent so long thinking I was safe, harmless... (he whispered, his lips brushing the skin of her neck) But do you know what happens when someone holds back their desire for too long?

He lightly bit the sensitive spot below her ear, making her body shudder.

Sunoo: It explodes.

Y/N barely had time to process the words before she was forcefully spun around and pressed against the wall.

Sunoo held your wrists above your head, his breath hot against your skin.

Sunoo: You teased me for so long, challenged me, tested me... (he laughed quietly, the sound hoarse and sinful) Now you'll have to deal with the consequences.

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but any words died when she felt his teeth dig lightly into her skin, followed by his hot tongue sliding in, soothing the burning.

She gasped, feeling her entire body throb.

Sunoo was different.

He wasn't just her best friend anymore.

He was a man who had been restrained for too long.

And now, finally released, he seemed determined to make her pay for every provocation.

Y/N wanted to test her limits one last time.

Y/N: What if I don't want to deal with the consequences? (she whispered, a defiant smile on her lips)

Sunoo looked up, eyes burning into hers.

He tilted his head, his smile widening.

Sunoo: Oh, you will.

And then, he took her completely.

Sunoo looked at Y/N as if her teasing had ignited something deep within him. There was no longer any hesitation in his eyes. There was no more retreat. Just an insatiable hunger that grew by the second.

In one swift movement, he grabbed the back of her neck, his firm fingers pressing into her skin, and pressed his mouth to hers with a fierce urgency. The kiss was rough, with no room for softness, no chance for resistance. His tongue invaded your mouth with force, as if he was tasting something that should have been his all along.

Y/N tried to maintain control, tried to reverse the situation and provoke him again, but Sunoo didn't give her space. He pressed her against the wall, his firm body pressed against hers, letting her feel every inch of his response to the desire that consumed her.

Sunoo: You wanted to play with me this whole time, didn't you? (he whispered against her lips, his breathing hot and heavy) Now you're going to have to deal with what you've awakened.

Before she could respond, she felt his hands running down her body, without hesitation, without doubt. He held her waist tightly, pulling her closer, making a point of showing that there was no more room for escape. Y/N gasped, feeling her skin crawl under his touch, her mind trying to process what was happening.

Sunoo bit her lower lip before pulling it away slightly and looking at her with a smile filled with something dark.

Sunoo: Still think I'm the same? (he asked, his voice hoarse and low, sending shivers through her body)

Y/N didn't respond. I couldn't. His body was already reacting before he could even form any coherent thoughts.

Sunoo took that as an answer. His lips began to explore her neck, his tongue tracing a warm path to her collarbone. When he sucked on a sensitive spot there, she couldn't contain the low moan that escaped her lips.

He smiled against her skin.

Sunoo: That's it (mumbled) I want to hear more.

His fingers slowly descended, playing with the fabric of her clothes, as if he was testing the limits of her patience. But Y/N knew he wasn't joking. He was in control now.

And her?

She was about to lose hers completely.

Sunoo raised his face, his eyes fixed on hers, waiting for any sign of hesitation. But all he found was pure, uninhibited desire.

Sunoo: Good girl. (he whispered before finally leading them to a path of no return)

With a quick movement, he lifted her and sat her on the kitchen counter, her eyes dark and full of indecent promises. Y/N felt her heart race even more when Sunoo knelt in front of her, holding her thighs and spreading them firmly.

Sunoo: Now, I want to hear you even more (he murmured, his voice low and full of desire)

Without looking away, he pressed his lips against her exposed skin, trailing hot, wet kisses down her thigh until he finally reached her pulsing center. The first touch of his tongue made Y/N arch her back, a broken moan escaping her throat.

Sunoo smiled against his skin, pleased.

Sunoo: That… (he teased) I want your every sound for myself.

And then, without mercy, he took her completely into his mouth, making Y/N hold on to the edge of the counter, her eyes closed, as the intense pleasure consumed her.

When she finally gasped his name in pleading, Sunoo stood up, her eyes burning with lust. He held her waist tightly, turning her and leaning her slightly onto the counter.

Sunoo: You tortured me by telling you about other guys fucking you (he growled, his breathing heavy against your ear) But I'm going to fuck you so good that you'll never crave any other dick than mine again.

Before she could respond, he entered her at once, eliciting a loud moan from her lips. The shock of pleasure made her hold tight to the edge of the counter, her body already surrendered to the intense way he was taking her.

Sunoo held her waist firmly, guiding her movements without any hesitation. Each thrust was raw and deep and possessive, each thrust making it clear that he was leaving his mark on her.

He leaned over her, biting her shoulder and whispering, breathlessly:

Sunoo: I will never again let you doubt what I am capable of doing to you.

Y/N just lost herself completely in the overwhelming pleasure, knowing that after that night, nothing between them would ever be the same.

Sunoo: Look at you (he growled, his fingers squeezing her waist tightly, pulling her against him with each thrust) All wet for me... You like it like that, don't you? Being fucked by me like that?

Y/N could barely formulate a coherent response, only broken moans leaving her lips as pleasure took over every fiber of her body. But Sunoo wasn't satisfied yet.

He slid one of his hands down her body, down to her most sensitive spot, pressing with his thumb as he continued to thrust into her deeply.

Sunoo: I want to see you cum for me (he ordered, his voice full of lust) I want to feel you trembling on my dick while I fuck you so hard that you'll never be able to think about another guy other than me again.

And that's exactly what happened.

Y/N arched her back, a loud moan escaping her lips as her entire body contracted around him, pleasure exploding in overwhelming waves. Sunoo grunted as he felt her response, his own control crumbling as he buried himself into her one last time, panting, overcome with ecstasy.

They lay there, breathing heavily, their bodies still pressed together, their skin hot and damp. Sunoo slid his lips over her shoulder, leaving a possessive kiss before whispering against her skin:

Sunoo: I warned you that I would never let you see me the same way again.

Y/N smiled, still catching her breath, and turned her head to face him, her eyes shining with desire and satisfaction.

Y/N: And I promised myself I would tease you until you lost control.

Sunoo laughed, biting her bottom lip before pulling her into another hot kiss.

Sunoo: Then I hope you're ready to bear the consequences of this.

And he wasn't kidding.

Sunoo picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, throwing her onto the bed effortlessly. The wild gleam in his eyes made it clear that the night was far from over.

✿ If you don't reblog and comment, you can be sure I'll be showing up in your dreams tonight... and I won’t be as sweet as in the story ✿

[higanbanaki]

Has anyone thought about a DDLC x ROTTMNT AU before. Like the turtles as the members of the literature club. Idk it just kind of occured to me but I'm not so sure who's gonna be who knowing their personalities aren't going to align completely together so this is more of a concept if anything

Initially I though Mikey as Natsuki because they're seen as the youngest of their group (and I'm saying seen here because it's not really clear with Natsuki), and while it's somewhat different with them, both have something to do with 'childish'. Natsuki, who's afraid of being perceived as childish for liking 'childish'/cute stuff outside of the club, so she builds up this tough exterior for those around her unless she 100% knows they're not going to judge her for it. And Mikey, who wants to be taken serious and seen as someone who can handle things responsibly.

Donnie and Yuri seems like an obvious choice, both are generally more quiet, seen as the sophisticated one amongst their respective groups, and passionate about topics they're interested in, I think they're also similar in a way that they think their work is better than the others with Yuri's poems compared to the club and Donnie with his inventions in general. But unlike Yuri, Donnie doesn't necessarily cares about what others think of him, knowing they'll never be superior over him.

After that I kinda had a hard time thinking who the other two would be. Like. I could see Leo being both Sayori AND Monika based on his general mannerism. But honestly? After some more thought I think he fits Sayori. Like, Sayori being the one in the club that broke off arguments despite Monika being the president and her struggle with depression & loving herself, to which she uses a cheerful personality to cope with.

Which leaves Raph to be Monika, being seen as the leader in general. I don't really see that much connection with these 2 compared to the other pairings, but I do think that like Monika, Raph highly hesitates to actually kill off his brother, to straight up just not doing it at all UNLIKE Monika. Like. I genuinely cannot see him trying to eliminate his younger brothers like that JUST for MC. He's kind to them, shows concern and thinks about their needs. He would never hurt them willingly. That's why exactly it hurts so much.

I did way too much thinking for this one and I might not even expand on it. On another note I should really replay DDLC

[maybequinnidk]

rewatching and commenting SG because it's leaving netflix soon, s2

season 1 was satisfying overall, not that frustrating

lots of lena

2x01

why another location? whatever, it's fine. i like the old place too, alex

I 100% believe that kara thought the online quiz would be accurate, just like she thought the dating app in 1x01 would be, bc the algorithm cant possibly be wrong right? bc that's how it was on krypton

"kiera danvers"

eve !!!! i love her so much

"MISS TESSMACHER" counter: 1 (lex stole that from ms grant)

the striped one looked better

i just wanted kara to be a space nerd. is that too much to ask??? "yes", the cw responds

thank god cat and lena weren't there

oh look it's him. so inoffensive

super cousins save the day together counter: 1

new and upgraded title card

in s1 j'onn didn't seem to have beef with clark when they mentioned him that one time

her skirt has pockets. i want it

ok so crushing on kryptonians give badass CEOs prosopagnosia, got it

LENAAAAA 🚨🚨🚨 KATIEEEE

"and who are you exactly?" does she not recognize her gf?

a fic where cat and lena are friends and talk about their crushes on clark and kara to each other and the other is like "you do know that their are a super, right?" and the other is like "pfft nah"

"mr. kent" she says as if she doesn't know who he is. as if he wasn't lex's best friend once upon a time. as if they're complete strangers. but after everything they might as well be

kara's unwavering belief in lena counter: ∞

they should stop talking about super stuff in the middle of a croud

another partnership ruined bc of kryptonite

another batman reference. they said gotham this time. improvements

"i was thinking italian, I could fly there" not gonna say it, not gonna say it. there's four seasons to go still

her dress also has pockets?? amazing

"MISS TESSMACHER" counter: 2

im gonna miss her

"who would want lena luthor dead?" j'onn. my man. who doesn't want her dead? have you met her family? they hate her! and the luthor-haters also hate her

kaznia mentioned

you know what? her face does look different with glasses and her hair up

not them casually talking like they didn't just meet today

alex's fight scenes are so good

lena with a gun counter: 1

Kara's brain turning into mush when lena talks to her. mood

cat is already proud of her protege

she's leaving

"miss tessmacher" counter: 1

she really said "something has changed within me, something is not the same. im through with playing by the rules of someone else's game"

winn rambling is cute

cousin banter. cute too

i wish kal-el had been more present in kara's life for her sake. but for my sake, im glad he is not so present in the show

ugh lillian

[lexicrvg]

On a random night in 1989, Ice and Mav have a fight about their future together. Ice wants to quit the navy and love Mav in all the ways he deserves, out and proud, but Maverick doesn't let him. He knows Ice wants to climb through the ranks and get stars on his shoulder, he can't be the reason Ice misses this.

That night, they broke up. Ice couldn't bear be with someone who didn't love him just as much as he loves them, and Maverick couldn't tell Ice he wouldn't give up flying for him.

Ice quits the navy. He would've done it with or without Maverick.

30+ years go by, and their lives haven't even once crossed paths, not even at Slider's wedding nor Sundown's funeral. It seems like the universe had separate plans for them, and it stuck this way.

(They were at both of these events, but Wolfman was in charge of "Not let Mav and Tom see each other" and he always aces a task)

Until Wolf's retirement party, that is. With him being the center of attention, he gives Hollywood the most important task of his life, Wood have other plans tho, he's very easily distracted by his husband's beautiful smile and when they're least expecting it...

"Hey" Maverick says, sitting on the bar, side by side with Tom.

"Pete!" Tom opens a big smile "Long time no see!"

"Yeah, right." Mav takes a pause, looking at the other up and down. "You look great"

And he did. Being away from the navy must've given Tom 10 years of his life back.

"You look exactly the same," Tom laughs. "Like, scarily so."

Pete laughs with him, although the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. In just 2 minutes, between seeing Tom from across the room and engaging in conversation with him, Mav noticed he seems... happy.

"I think I've been time traveling in those jets," he jokes, and Tom laughs. Again.

Tom didn't have such an easy smile back then. It rubs on Maverick the wrong way.

"How have you been?" Tom asks, after taking a sip of his vodka.

Maverick did not have a good answer to that question. Miserable? Missing you every day of my life? Discharged?

"Good" it's what he settles for. "You?"

Something in Tom's eyes twitches, like he's well aware Maverick's lying to his face, he says nothing about it, and Mav doesn't give him a chance to. He spots the ring on Tom's finger and, before he can help himself, he asks:

"What's her name?" Earning yet another laugh from Tom.

"I know it's been a while, but I'm sure you remember I'm not particularly interested in women." Tom plays with his ring and adds: "His name is Grant, and he's..." Tom searches for something in the room, then points. "... right there."

Against his better judgment, Mav turns to see where Tom's pointing. He regrets it immediately. Grant is gorgeous.

He's the exact opposite of Pete. For starters, he's tall, taller than Ice, taller than Slider whom he's talking excitedly with. Grant's hair is silver, and he carries a smile that would make Mav swoon if the situation was any different.

"We met in 2001" Tom continues, smiling lovingly at his partner. "Got married in 2016, and..."

"And...?"

"Our kid came to our lives in 2019. She just turned 10."

Maverick feels like he's going to throw up. Husband and daughter. Tom had both a husband and a daughter while Pete was still in weird terms with Bradley and as single as he's ever been. It wasn't fair. He was the one who didn't want Tom and now... Now, Tom has been living a happy life with a family he could only dream of when he was in the navy, and Pete still held onto a tiny bit of hope that he would get Ice back.

It wasn't fair. Not at all. He might die of regret.

"Listen, I gotta go to the restroom, " Ice said, getting up. "You stay here! I'll be back. We have a lot of catch-up to do, " and walked away.

Mav downed the rest of Tom's drink in one go, very disappointedly realizing it was water and not vodka.

"Hey, shortstack!" comes from Ron Kerner, looking a bit tipsy, bringing Grant on his arm. "I want you to meet my dear friend, Grant!"

"Yeah, I..."

"Grant, this is Pete Mitchell, Tom's wingmen" hearing Slider refer to him as Ice's wingmen did something weird to Mav's heart. "Mav, this is Grant Kazansky, he's..."

"Ice's husband, yeah, I heard."

Both Slider and Grant giggle at this. Grown man. Giggling. "He hates being called Ice nowadays," Grant explains. "He says Iceman is someone who should stay in the past."

"Sorry, old habits." Mav opens an awkward smile.

"Can I get you a drink?" Grant offers. "Something stronger than Tom's water."

"I thought it was vodka." Mav murmurs.

Already gesturing to the bartender to bring a drink, Grant says: "He stopped drinking when our princess came to our lives."

"And yet I'm her contact emergency" Slider interrupts.

"Because you let her eat ice cream before dinner!"

And isn't this nice? Maverick thought to himself. Him, his biggest love's husband and fucking Ron Kerner all sitting together and having a nice chat!

Before he could actually throw up in front of these people, he excused himself and went to get some fresh air.

Not even 5 minutes go by before someone sits down besides him on the sidewalk.

"He talked about you." Grant says, offering Mav a glass of something that might be whiskey — or apple juice, you never know.

"Good things, I hope." Mav says, taking the glass.

Grant snorts, but doesn't answer. Awkward silence rovers between them.

"Do you love him?" Pete asks, breaking it.

Without missing a beat, Grant answers: "More than I ever loved anyone."

Something twists in Mav's stomach, but he ignores it.

"That's good. He only deserves good things."

But it went without saying. Grant knew Tom deserved only good things, hell, Ice knew it. He would never settle for less than he deserves, and that's why he's with Grant and not Maverick.

"He's lucky to have you," Pete finishes, swallowing the bitter taste the words leave in his mouth.

"I'm lucky to have him." After a beat of awkward silence, Grant adds: "You should come by to dinner."

Mav must've heard it wrong, so he waits for Grant to correct himself. It never comes.

"What?"

"Dinner at our place," Grant explains. "He'd love to get you back in his life, he treasures his friends a lot."

Friends. Right. That's what they are. No.

"We haven't been friends in a long time," not since 1986, he lefts unsaid, since we started dating.

Grant seems to think about it, then decides, "Now it's a good time to reconect. Enjoy your drink."

Then he walks back into the bar, leaving Mav and his thoughts alone.

It all seems a bit crazy for him. Ice — sorry, Tom — has a husband. And they've been together for more than twenty years. A husband who loves him dearly and isn't afraid to say so. A husband who goes to navy events just to celebrate Tom's old friends. A husband who looks like could and would kill anyone who did Tom wrong. A husband who sat down with Tom's ex and invited him to dinner just because.

Pete thinks he should accept the offer. Just to see what Tom's been up to and meet his daughter, would she like him? Would she call him "Uncle Mav"? He should call Slider and check on what to wear and say...

Oh. He doesn't know what to say around Tom. They're strangers now. The man who he once shared a house, a bed, a life, and a heart with is now a stranger to him.

The realization does something to him, something very bad. He takes a sip of his drink and decides this day could not get any worse.

Huh. Whiskey. A good one. At least Grant knows his liquor.

[natsredbra]

https://www.tumblr.com/natsredbra/776541283560914945/httpswwwtumblrcomnatsredbra77648301512681062?source=share

Natalie would be the queen who "plays" with the baby as if she were a doll☺️

She talks to the baby and makes that silly little voice to pretend the baby is talking back to her.

"Oh mommy loves you so much little thing" "I love you too mommy, you're the best" she answers herself with the cutest voice she can imitate while holding the baby in her arms.

Let me tell you she does this ALL THE TIME!!!

Are you leaving because you need to take care of something? She'll kiss you goodbye, before holding the baby's hand to wave goodbye and saying something like "Bye mommy, we love you" in that damn cute voice.

She 100% records funny videos of her baby "dancing", which is basically some silly song playing while she moves her baby's arms or legs to the beat (✨️Gen Z parents✨️)

Natalie uses the baby's stuffed animals to make a little theater to keep her entertained, she has a different story and voice for each stuffed animal and it really keeps the little one entertained.

Natalie who walks down the street wearing sunglasses and puts sunglasses on the little girl too (the sunglasses are too big for the baby and she is sleeping)

Natalie hates toys that make noise...the baby loves them

Natalie dressing the baby in a pink tulle skirt, mini band shirt and black baby converse, also a big pink pacifier just because she can🙄 (she doesn't care about judgements)

Natalie who gets a mini leather jacket in baby pink or some soft shade.

-🌺

YES that is exactly what i was aiming at!! I agree with all those thoughts + she would 100000% ask things from you but pretend that it’s the baby?

im not sure if i worded that right, but she’d go like “Let mommy have another drink!” (while you’re at said festival and the leather jackets is draped over the baby’s shoulders<33)

LMAOO Natalie would do all kinds of dumb shit with her child, when she wraps her up she calls it the baby burrito, narrate her life (“Today, the baby is gonna conquer the biggest challenge of all: smushed veggies!”), another one with music she’d put those headphones of hers on the kid and pretend she’s a DJ and film it as well, fucks around and ‘works out’ with the baby as the weights and so on…

and yes! stuffed animals!! walking in on their little shows and she playfully shushes you away for interrupting!!

also i see her making sock puppets for the kid as well

big sunglasses + light yellow leather jacket + ruffled pink skirt + baby band T + baby converse/doc martens= reader x natalie’s baby

teehee imagine nat going completely insane cause the noise the toys make, especially if you have a dog too, girlie wants to bury herself alive……”Babyyy please stop that! Please baby pleaseee!” she whines as the child squeezes the squeaky toy even harder

[talesfromawannabewriter]

The Falling of an Apple

Disclaimer: This book will have many parts that some readers may find triggering or offensive. The list includes but is not limited to slavery, feed-ism, adipophilin, slight fat shaming, urolagnia, coprophilia, and menstruation

chapter 1

Tearing through secrets

Adam couldn't breathless he lay in the crater, his robes all but obliterated, and he was left in nothing but his black skintight suit, which constricted against every fat on his body. It was just begging to be all released to free Adam from the prison in which it held.

Looking up he saw the shadow of his nemesis flying above him. His daughter was safely placed on the ground before returning to the first man. He had much planned for him, his first best friend betraying him like this and hurting his daughter.

Then again one would say he betrayed him first. Lucifer shook himself from such pitiful thoughts. Now was not the time to become sentimental, now was the time to put this human in his place.

He got right up to Adam and pulled him by the front of his suit. Unaware of the tearing he was causing.

Lucifer: Alright you dumb son of a bitch you are going to pay for your fucking crimes by...

He stopped as he stared at his chest. Something about it was different. It had been centuries since he saw him last. Even during the meeting to discuss the exterminations Lucifer paid him no mind.

But now as he stared at him, at his chest he could see that there was something...soft about it, and if he wasn't mistaking it for something maybe...jiggly.

He didn't know why he dropped him, but he did. When he heard it completely, the suit, was tearing.

Lucifer watched astounded as flesh poured out like water from the fall. His thighs were so full of meat they touched together. His back had love handles and his were wide.

Then came the absolute most delectable part. Adam's once flat chest and taut stomach were now nothing more than made up by fat. And Lucifer loved it.

His chest had boobed, which Lucifer would say were about going up to H cups. Which were even bigger than Lilith's or Eve's. But when Lucifer finally got to see his full stomach, he could no longer hide his massive erection.

At first, it was rupturing from underneath the suit then with one final push popped right out. His giant, soft belly sloshing around as many of the others looked on in disgust. But not Lucifer, never had he ever felt this way for a person before.

Not even when he was with Lilith. Though she had a pretty face and was nice when she wanted to be she was thin as a twig and practically curve less. All those stories about her beauty and bouncy breasts were simply that, stories.

The truth of the matter is that she was actually a twig. Both her breasts and bottom were only implants that she got from Belphegor herself. Lucifer would never admit it during their marriage, but he wished he had more to hold, to suck on, to fuck raw until his dick was completely drained.

This man had exactly what he wanted. Without another thought, he stepped closer to Adam who was wheezing from being in that suit for so long. Dear father he was so fucking fat; it made him lick his lips as felt some of his own inner juices slightly flow out the tip, wetting his normally clean pants.

He pulled Adam by his hair and said in a harsh voice: Adam the first man for trespassing the agreement and harming the princess of Hell, my daughter, I hereby sentence you be my personal slave for all of eternity.

The two heard shouting and screams of anguish as Lucifer's fire surrounded them and took him back to his castle. Where he would begin to play with his new pet.

(I know it's not much now, but I promise it is about to get incredibly dirty, starting with the next chapter)

@lilacwriter07

@sir-tater-of-the-tot, hope you guys enjoyed the first part ;)

[rosy-crow]

I really need to see Sephiroth and Hojo speak to each other one fucking time. Their dynamic is never shown via verbal interchanges.

But they’re father and son. The anticipation is making me crazy.

Now, I say this…and yet, I think their indirect relationship is so fascinating…the way they speak to and through each other.

We have “Sephiroth, you’ve grown stronger” from Hojo in Before Crisis and “On to the next test Sephiroth. I want to see how you work in a team,” most recently in First Soldier and “Sephiroth, you’ve really done it this time,” from Hojo in The Last Order.

Only two of these lines are spoken to Sephiroth in person. He is silent both times.

The rest is Hojo talking ABOUT Sephiroth.

Talking about following him, observing him, copying him, breeding him, recreating him, exploiting him.

The rest is Hojo obsessing, which culminates in the wild question he throws out before his death:

“What will Sephiroth think when he finds out I’m his father?!!”

Meanwhile, the closest we get to Sephiroth addressing Hojo directly is “I see now Hojo….but doing this will never put you on the same level as Professor Gast,” in the OG, and “Hojo, you’re really something,” in Rebirth.

The rest is Sephiroth QUOTING Hojo. He can quote him perfectly.

“It’s an affront to science!”

“We don’t use unscientific terms like “mysterious power! It shouldn’t even be called magic!!”

“No matter how logically you explain something, there will always be people who don’t understand because they have a different view of the world.”

Seph mimics Hojo’s body language. He shares his laugh. He is the only SOLDIER allowed to speak to the Professor. He says that Hojo has always told him the opposite of “Relax, don’t push yourself. Rest.” He references Hojo’s terminology, explaining why SOLDIERs that are led by emotion are “second-rate.”

Sephiroth grows up….and he speaks disdainfully of the old scientist. He lashes out in disgust over his experiments. He hates Hojo and looks down on him. He doesn’t quote him with any level of respect anymore. Hojo is a bad memory. He would be fine to let the man die in Crisis Core.

Still no direct conversations between them on-screen.

And YET—

Sephiroth had visions of Hojo in Nibelheim. He saw him laughing. He had memories of Hojo causing him pain in an AU trip to Nibelheim.

Hojo had countless samples of Sephiroth’s DNA in tanks in the Shinra Manor labs.

Even after losing his mind, Sephiroth knew Hojo well enough to comment on how the scientist would be mortified if he knew about Cloud being a successful experiment after being labelled a failure.

Hojo tried to blast his son with mako energy to “help” him further ascend into godhood.

Sephiroth killed everyone in Shinra’s labs and didn’t stop until he reached the executive floor just above, where he killed the president. He didn’t kill Hojo.

Hojo felt inferior to Gast. Sephiroth put Gast on a pedestal in comparison to Hojo. Hojo murdered Gast. Sephiroth wonders many years later why Gast died.

Hojo erased Lucrecia, but Sephiroth looked for her all his life. Hojo won in the end by leading him to Jenova instead.

Sephiroth didn’t talk about his father. He laughed the question off.

Hojo knew exactly what Sephiroth used to wash his hair. He knew how and where he would sneak to goof off with his friends. He sold this private information to strangers.

Sephiroth wore a photo-necklace that Hojo gave him. The photo was of Sephiroth’s real mother. Hojo’s wife. Lucrecia. Hojo told his son she was Jenova.

Hojo declared that as long as he lived, so would Sephiroth.

Sephiroth has saved Hojo under orders.

Hojo risked his entire life to make Sephiroth stronger in the end.

[cherry-romper]

Connor Drabble

I got really bored and wrote this at 3 am when I couldn't sleep, I kinda love it and wanted to share it. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings; none

Contains; F!reader, fluff

They say the eyes are windows to the soul, and that the soul is a mirror of the heart. They say that without tears, the soul would have no rainbow. Souls are the very essence of what it is to be human. They connect us all, allowing us to transcend our existence and create space for shared experiences of the human condition. 

Yet, under dim light, she held the android's gaze, not needing to wonder if the warmth in his eyes was something he’d learnt to mimic or something he’d truly begun to feel. 

She’d been told that the soul was a fundamentally human thing. She’d been led to believe that the soul and the heart and love and fear were what set humans and androids apart. They were incapable of such things; they were not programmed to feel. They could not cry, they could not love, and they didn't eat or drink or sleep. They were fast, they followed orders, and they never complained or broke or failed.

Still, his hand felt so warm in hers. 

Part of her felt guilty for liking it so much. It was wrong, wasn't it? That's what she’d been told all her life. As her friend put it: “It's like falling in love with a talking microwave”. But, she couldn't help but feel her human heart skip a beat every time he caught her eye. 

They used to sing songs and tell tales about men like him. He didn't have to do anything to make her feel special, she knew she was loved. Perhaps it was the fact he didn't have a flawed human brain, and, instead, he was able to store all the little things she did or said without forgetting them. Or maybe, it was the fact that he didn't care about their differences, he didn’t care what others thought, he knew he loved her. Ones and zeros could never take that away.

It was silly really, she’d fallen for an android. And an android had fallen for her. It was an impossible love, one that redefined flesh and code. With him, she found a tenderness that surpassed human touch, a quiet devotion that neither time nor technology could ever truly explain.

Despite knowing the limitations that separated them - his silicon heart, her beating one; his blue blood, hers red - they couldn't help but feel a connection deeper than anything they ever knew possible. And though, deep down, they knew it could never be, for a fleeting moment, it didn't matter. They found the possible in the impossible, and the perfection in imperfection. They were not bound by the rules of the world, they had something far more profound.

Her guilt and doubt and shame, those emotions all melted away at his touch, replaced by a warmth that eased every fear and hesitation she had. Nothing else mattered when he was around. His presence was like a safety net from the world's judgments. 

As his fingers brushed hers, her heart raced, not with panic, but with the undeniable certainty that she was exactly where she needed to be. The overwhelming connection between them blurred the lines of right and wrong, and she found herself lost in something pure, something beautiful, even if it was born of impossibility. 

They say in the eyes of another, we find the reflection of our soul, and in the depth of his gaze, she saw not just his circuitry, but a reflection of her own heart - fragile, yearning, and alive. 

[confused-reading-ink-rat]

Chapter 5; Poppies With Heart-Shaped Petals

(Snippet from previous part:)

Galinda’s breath hitched as they turned a corner, slamming into what she assumed was a wall of black bricks. She began to fall backward, and the girl caught her by her waist.

“Elphaba?” 

______________________________________________________

Elphaba blinked, staring at the blonde in her arms. She felt heat creep up her neck onto her cheeks, and Galinda herself reddened. She quickly moved to help the girl to her feet and swiftly fled the scene, aiming for a hiding place.

“Wait! Elphaba!” She vaguely heard the girl calling as she turned the corner. 

It was too early in the morning to be dealing with Galinda Upland. 

Where would she even hide? The library was too obvious; even if it was a large building, her complexion was simply too eye-catching. A secluded corner could do, but those were too far from any of the classrooms during her morning period.

Unfortunately for Elphaba, the blonde was starting to catch up, noticeably lacking the two lackeys that were usually attached to her hips. She was saying something, but to the older girl it was nothing more than a mere whisper. Elphaba’s name, asking her to slow, even cursing at her for being so fast.

A random room would have to do.

Elphaba had entered a secluded classroom with the intent to lock the blonde out, but Galinda was already inside. She leaned back against the door, trying to catch her breath.

“Dear Oz, how are you so fast?” She asked, panting, hands on her hips. “You gave me more of a workout than our Physical-”

“What do you want?” Elphaba asked coldly, glaring at the girl. Galinda flinched, that tone was usually reserved for their most heated debates. That’s not exactly something you want to be coming from your soulmate’s mouth when you’re trying to get on her good side.

“I want to talk,” she stepped forward, and Elphaba stepped back. “About, well,” She vaguely gestured to the soulmate mark just below her ear and Elphaba’s. “This.”

“What is there to talk about?” the green girl asked sharply, crossing her arms. “As I recall from last week, you want absolutely nothing to do with me.”

“Well, the circumstances were different,” Galinda muttered, fidgeting nervously. 

“Different how?”

“For one, we loathed each other, and we were rivals.”

“And why does that change now?” Elphaba questioned, her tone sharp, daring her to answer. To only prove her right.

“Because we’re soulmates,” Galinda answered, then swallowed, “I know that when I say it like that it sounds superficial, but I-”

“But it is,” the older girl concluded, stepping forward. “No matter how you put it, it is superficial. You only want to change because, for some ungodly reason, fate decided to string us together.” She began to walk past the blonde.

Galinda managed to get just another moment in before she left, she grabbed Elphaba’s wrist and stammered out;

“How about a courtship?”

Elphaba blinked and furrowed her brow, “Excuse me?”

“A courtship,” Galinda repeated, letting go of her hand and straightening her posture. She took a deep breath, walking behind Elphaba in circles. “I can court you, so I can be your soulmate,”

The older girl raised an eyebrow. “You already are,”

“That’s not the point,” Galinda huffed, stepping forward, “Take it as an apology as well, for being so…”

“Insufferable.” Elphaba finished for her, unmoving as the blonde continued to move towards her.

“Yes, that,” Galinda nodded,

“Fine, then,” Elphaba confirmed and began to walk towards the door before Galinda surprised her by grabbing her wrist.

“We’re gonna have to talk more,” The younger girl dragged Elphaba to the desks with a surprising 

“Why?”

“Well, we must discuss the circumstances of our courtship!” Galinda gestured for Elphaba to sit next to her, pulling a notebook and fountain pen out of seemingly nowhere. “I’ll have to know what to do!”

“Like what?” She raised an eyebrow, “I’d rather you do whatever you like.”

“Oh, believe me, you wouldn’t.” Galinda shook her head, “I am simply too grandiose in my affections, you wouldn’t live.”

“Fair point.” Elphaba nodded, writing something down in the notebook, Galinda tried to peek but Elphaba wouldn’t let her. After she was done writing, she slid it over to Galinda.

No more than one public declaration of affection a day, lest Galinda write a song for a school-wide choreographed dance for it.

Galinda gasped, furrowing her brow, “Slander,‘ she whispered.

“Keep reading,”

Gifts just be shared in secret with no more than 3 a day.

Galinda grinned, but Elphaba tapped the note under the clause.

Grandeur must be kept at a reasonable amount.

“This is torture.” Galinda huffed, turning to Elphaba with an overdramatic sigh. She lit up when she saw the faintest tilt of her lips into a hint of a smile. Almost.

But goodness, she made that almost.

She barely registered when Elphaba gave her the pen, only coming to when the older girl tapped her with it.

“It’s your turn to torture me.”

Galinda paused, tapping her chin in thought, and then her lips curled into a devilish smile.

Elphaba Thropp must give some form of appreciation for any and all affections, with a written report at the end of the week. 

“This is ridiculous,” Elphaba muttered as she read over the paper.

“I call it feedback, I must know how to please you, should I not?” The blonde grinned, tilting her head to the side.

Elphaba raised an eyebrow, “Is there no better way to phrase that?”

There was a pause, and then Galinda yanked the notebook out of Elphaba’s hands. Before the older girl could open her mouth to speak, she pressed a finger against her lips. “One more clause,”

Galinda Upland and Elphaba Thropp must act the same prior to the soulmate revelation, including, but not limited to; bickering, debating, and competing for the top spot in class. These interactions, however, must no longer be hostile or filled with malice.

Elphaba looked at her, confused. “Why?”

Galinda smirked back at her. “Why not?”

@nether2010

@kekescalope

@spinelesscacti

@filofandomfrenzy

@thestorytellingfool

@mulder-its-me-223

@soundofcomets

@rainbow-tomato-draws

@polyarmy

@moonpheus

@gemasivi 

ALL PARTS: 

Part 1 : Here

Part 2 : Here

Part 3 : Here

Part 4 : Here (Latest and Previous)

As always, you can find this series on Tumblr, with the tags #poppies with heart shaped petals #poppies with heart-shaped petals Warning: : FUTURE GLIYERABA (JURY'S STILL OUT)

[ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen]

Could I make a crazy fiction request? A bartender takes a music course at the local junior college. The instructor (harry styles) fancies her, but one of the clubhouse bikers (butler) gets seriously upset about the situation on a level she doesn't even realize.

Jealous Much?

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴀᴜꜱᴛɪɴ ʙᴜᴛʟᴇʀ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀʀʀʏ ꜱᴛʏʟᴇꜱ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ??

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: physically fighting, some sexual references I think

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: our lovely user above

A/N - I don't know if this is what you imagined but I hope I did you justice!! maybe I'll do one where she and harry have a moment? if y'all want both of them to be with her? Idk......

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。 °。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。

The smell of whiskey and cigarette smoke clung to the air, mingling with the low hum of rock music from the old jukebox in the corner. Y/N wiped down the counter, her fingers absently tracing the rim of an empty glass as she stole a glance at the far side of the room.

Austin Butler sat in his usual spot—a dark corner booth, back against the wall, beer in hand. He was watching. Not obviously, not in a way that anyone else would notice, but she felt it. The weight of his stare had been on her all night, just like it had been every night since she started that damn music class.

She wasn’t sure what his problem was. He wasn’t exactly the chatty type, but lately, he had been quieter. More brooding. More intense.

The bell above the door jingled, drawing her attention away.

Harry Styles walked in, his presence immediately at odds with the rough atmosphere of the bar. He wasn’t out of place, exactly—he had that effortless charm that made people like him anywhere—but he definitely didn’t belong. Dressed in a fitted button-down, sleeves rolled to his elbows, he carried himself with a confidence that was different from the men in the clubhouse.

"Y/N," he greeted her with that easy smile, sliding onto a stool at the bar. "Didn’t expect to find you working so late."

She smirked, tossing the rag over her shoulder. "Gotta pay for those classes somehow, professor."

"Just Harry, love," he corrected, resting his forearms on the counter. "I wanted to check in, see if you had any questions about the last assignment."

"Not unless you’ve got a way to make music theory less of a headache," she teased, pouring him a drink without asking. He didn’t usually stay long, just enough for a quick drink and some small talk before heading out.

Before she could slide his drink across the bar, a hand reached out, stopping her.

Austin.

Austin had been still up until that moment, watching, waiting. But the second Harry’s eyes lingered on Y/N a little too long, the second his voice dipped into something that sounded a little too familiar, Austin moved.

He had moved without her noticing, suddenly standing beside her, his grip firm around her wrist. His eyes weren’t on her, though. They were locked on Harry, cold and unreadable.

"Think you should find another place to drink, professor," Austin said, voice low, steady.

Harry’s easy demeanor faltered for a fraction of a second before he forced a chuckle. "Didn’t realize this was a members-only establishment."

Austin didn’t smile. Didn’t blink. His grip on her wrist tightened slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to make her pulse jump.

"It is now."

Y/N's breath hitched. Harry exhaled through his nose, clearly sensing the shift in the air. He wasn’t stupid. He knew Austin was dangerous. But he also wasn’t the type to back down from a challenge.

"Look, mate," Harry said, pushing his drink away. "I’m just here to talk to Y/N. No need for the caveman routine."

Wrong move.

The second the words left his mouth, Austin lunged.

Y/N barely had time to react before Austin grabbed Harry by the collar, yanking him clean off the barstool. The stool clattered to the floor as Austin shoved him backward, sending them both crashing into a nearby table.

"Hey!" Y/N shouted, scrambling around the bar.

Harry stumbled but recovered fast, shoving Austin off him with surprising strength. "The hell is your problem, man?"

Austin’s jaw clenched, eyes burning with something raw and dangerous. "You."

Harry scoffed, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his lip. "All this over a girl?" He glanced at Y/N, but before he could say another word, Austin swung.

His fist connected with Harry’s jaw, the sickening crack of bone against bone echoing through the empty bar. Harry reeled backward, knocking over another chair as he regained his footing.

"Jesus Christ!" Y/N rushed forward, grabbing Austin’s arm before he could go in for another hit. "Austin, stop!"

But Austin wasn’t listening. His chest was rising and falling heavily, knuckles flexing at his sides. Harry spat blood onto the floor, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

"You’ve got some serious issues, mate," Harry muttered, rubbing his jaw. "All this just because I talked to her?"

Austin’s lip curled. "No. Because you don’t know when to back off."

Harry gave a humorless chuckle. "Neither do you, apparently."

That was it.

Austin lunged again, this time grabbing Harry by the shirt and slamming him into the bar. Bottles rattled on the shelves as Austin pressed his forearm against Harry’s throat, eyes dark with something possessive and unforgiving.

"Y/N ain’t yours," Harry choked out, gripping Austin’s arm.

Austin didn’t even flinch. His voice was calm when he spoke, but it carried an edge that sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine.

"She’s not yours either."

Harry struggled for a second longer before finally going still. The fight wasn’t worth it. He knew when he was outmatched.

Austin let go, stepping back just enough to let him breathe. Harry took the opportunity, shoving him off as he straightened his shirt. He shot one last look at Y/N—something unreadable in his expression—before shaking his head.

"See you in class," he muttered, turning toward the door.

The second it slammed shut behind him, Y/N whirled on Austin, shoving at his chest.

Austin barely budged. His breathing was still heavy, the tension still rolling off him in waves. His hands twitched, like he wasn’t done yet—like he wanted to grab her, wanted to finish this a different way.

"You shouldn’t be around him," he said simply.

Y/N’s eyes flashed. "And why the hell not?"

Austin exhaled sharply through his nose, running a hand through his hair like he was trying to hold himself back.

"You really need me to spell it out?"

Y/N huffed, crossing her arms. "Actually? Yeah, I do. Because while I’ll admit your jealousy riles me up in a way I didn’t think it would"—she stepped closer, tilting her head—"must you pick a fight with the only teacher I actually like?"

Austin’s lips twitched, like he almost wanted to smirk.

"Didn’t seem like you just liked him," he muttered.

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. You think every man who talks to me wants to fuck me?"

Austin’s gaze darkened. "I know when a man wants you."

That shut her up.

Her pulse jumped, but she refused to let him see her waver. "So what? You beat up every guy who looks at me the wrong way now?"

Austin’s jaw flexed. "Only the ones who don’t know how to back off."

Y/N inhaled, suddenly very aware of how close he was, of how the anger between them had twisted into something else. Something thick and electric.

Her voice dropped. "You were jealous."

Austin stepped closer, crowding her against the bar. "Not jealous," he murmured. "Just done waiting."

Y/N swallowed, her breath catching. "For what?"

Austin lifted a hand, fingers grazing her jaw—gentle, despite the fire still simmering beneath his skin. His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth, lingering.

"You already know, sweetheart."

Y/N should’ve pushed him away.

Should’ve reminded him that this wasn’t how things worked. That fighting someone for her wasn’t the way to get under her skin.

But the problem was—

He already was under her skin.

And she wasn’t sure she wanted him out.

[aegagrusscholarship]

ok this was a tag rant but then it got really long so it goes in the main reblog and also the mainblog

if you take mirage as any sort of mirror of v1. it doesn't matter HOW exactly. just that you acknowledge that she is a facet of it in some way, it's pretty clear to see.

like yes her problems are filtered through the lens of her being a high schooler. and v1 is in a completely different situation. but the basal character traits that lead each of them to their respective current situations are, at the very least a facet of each other, if not straightup the same

i could also go on about the goofy little things available to do in the levels and also the goofy situations of bonus levels and point to that. because the hank skeleton saga and the fact that v1 does not simply disregard the silly little puzzles and activities it finds in those bonus levels. you cannot argue that they're non-canon, because the fact of the matter is that they are part of the game, and the game is very diegetic, and the game is telling you that these are situations that could happen. they might not have truly happened if you want to read it that way, but they are situations that are entirely possible to have happened.

and my point is that v1 is so very willing to do silly shit. because like. cheesy as it is to say. to want to live means you want to live for SOMETHING

it does not need to be a person or a thing or a concept even just the fact of being able to experience is a thing that could well be a motivation. and i think that IS the case here, given what little snippets of v1's personality we can see through these little details

and if you take into account PLAYER BEHAVIOUR and what is ENCOURAGED of the player and take into account the fact ultrakill is a very diegetic game!!!! that's even more to talk about!!! that is even more to point towards

the player is encouraged to go fuck around in the cybergrind, and you can't say the existence of the cybergrind and the way it works is non-canon! it is entirely canon! and the player is encouraged to fuck around in it which points to the fact that v1 is very much probable to fuck around as well, because player behaviour IS accounted for in its written personality as well

that is how this game is written. and this also means player behaviour in terms of the silly shit players do in levels is also implied to be adjacent to canon, if not outright canon.

and brother, we're having so much fun here.

v1 just wants to keep experiencing everything it can.

this is more speculation on my part, but i don't think it's scared of dying for the sake of being scared of dying, if that makes sense. i think it is scared because that means its existence will end, and that may seem like a non-issue of a distinction to make but it is very important a distinction.

going back to mirage, her fear is of nothing she does mattering in the end. i think v1's fear is very much off the same baseline. if it dies, if it stops existing, it will not have- can not have mattered. it's scared of and is running from the fact that it currently cannot and does not have closure.

AND. A FINAL THING. you didn't think i'm not thinking about the way this is entirely a foil to gabriel's acceptance of his own death didja? because i did not forget that!! it completely comes right back to the thing about closure i said literally thirty seconds ago.

gabriel has closure! he knows what he has done will have an effect on what he wanted to affect. it does not matter what happens to him anymore because he has done everything he wanted to do at this point. his death does not matter anymore! he's fulfilled his goal.

v1 doesn't have closure and i don't think it can. it's very much aimless. it's reason for existing as of now is simply to exist and experience the world. to die would take that away entirely, and it is scared of that.

Honestly it’s a little bit funny how the new ultrakill death screen has 95% of the fandom just straight up ugly crying in the club

[marigoldbaker]

if i wrote a fic about ted and rebecca writing letters to each other. would that make us all feel better

[shredsandpatches]

had a conversation with my mother yesterday in which she was very clearly looking for reasons to be convinced I'm going to lose my job any minute (taking vacation time, spending too much time on performing arts, enrollment being down because of FAFSA issues, just being generally unsightly) and it really makes me feel like confirming her priors about education and Liberal Hypocrisy and nobody wanting to look at fat people is more important to her than my continued success and happiness in life