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sluttywonwoo · 1 year

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instead of you [party twenty-eight] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex (mdni)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

Jisung was waiting on the bed when you made it back to your room. He raised his eyebrows expectantly when you came into view.

“So where were you?” he asked.

All you’d responded to his text with was be right there, not giving him an answer of any sort. You had tried to buy yourself time to come up with an excuse for why you weren’t in the room yourself, but that had evidently backfired on you since you still had nothing. You’d tied your wet hair back in the hopes of making it look less obvious that you had just taken a shower since you were still wearing your dirty clothes, but that was honestly the least of your worries

“I was with Minho,” you answered, figuring a half-truth was better than a full lie.

“Doing what?”

“He felt bad for me, I guess. Didn’t want me to be alone so he invited me to hang out.”

Jisung seemed to buy it, but he still looked confused. “You know you didn’t have to say yes, right?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “I know. I said yes because I wanted to. Your brothers can be fun to be around.”

“I guess,” he murmured.

“Not as fun as you, don’t worry,” you reassured him.

“I wasn’t worried!”

“Sure you weren’t.”

He brushes you off by shaking his head in denial before changing the subject. “Anyway, did you guys eat? Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“I think there’s a place down the street that’s still open where we could go grab some soup, if you’re feeling up for it.”

“Sure, but didn’t you already eat with Felix?”

“Yeah, I was just gonna tag along so you could have some company.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.”

The streets were unsurprisingly empty. It was strange to see the wide sidewalks devoid of all of the foot traffic you had grown accustomed to in big cities like this. The restaurant Jisung had mentioned was a little hole-in-the-wall noodle shop squished in between department stores. A flickering neon sign hanging in the window above the door was the only indication that it was still open and you still hesitated before pushing open the door, just in case it was actually closed and they had forgotten to turn off the sign.

It was about as busy as you’d expected. There were couples and groups of friends scattered throughout the room, all grabbing a quick bite to eat at the only place whose kitchen was still open at the late hour.

Everyone else was dressed to go out and you were still wearing your stupid Han Family Vacation t-shirt. Jisung had put on a hoodie over his so at least you weren’t matching.

He helped you order from the English menu and then picked a booth for you both in the back of the restaurant.

“Thanks for this,” you sighed, holding up the receipt and gesturing to the place.

“Least I could do after ditching you.”

“You didn’t ditch me, Ji. I had to practically beg you to go to that thing with Felix.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever.”

“You’re so stubborn!” you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“Why do you think we’re best friends?”

“Because you didn’t know anybody when you started school and I was the first sorry sucker that you stumbled across.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Shut up.”

You tried to kick him underneath the table but he saw it coming and moved his leg before your foot could make contact.

“Nice try.”

A server delivered your soup shortly after the kicking incident and dropped off a plate of dumplings as well. You almost told them you didn’t order them, but Jisung simply thanked them and slid the plate over to his side of the table.

“I thought you already ate,” you mumbled in confusion.

“I did but that was hours ago,” he responded defensively. “And I know you hate eating alone.”

You smiled gratefully and leaned down to slurp up some of the broth from your miso soup. It burned your tongue a little, but you still managed to swallow it. Soup was best piping hot anyway- unless of course, it’s a fruit bisque or gazpacho, but that’s a different story.

When soup is hot, you can feel it warming you from the inside out. That’s why everyone eats it when it’s cold outside or when they’re sick with chills. At least, that’s what your mother always told you to get you to eat soup.

The miso soup wasn’t your mother’s chicken noodle that was actually from a can, but it still comforted you the same. Your cramps had already subsided from the medicine you took… and from the orgasm Minho had given you, but food also soothed the ache.

“Want a dumpling?” Jisung offered, holding one of the wontons out to you with his chopsticks.

You opened your mouth as an answer and he fed it to you, nearly dropping it into your soup in the process.

“Pretty good, right?” he asked.

“Very good,” you agreed.

Once you were both done you cleared your bowls and set them in the bin by the door, thanking the cashier again before letting yourselves out. You were in no rush to get back to the hotel, but you did have to get up early the next day to get everything on the itinerary done before your flight in the evening.

You took another shower when you made it back to your room, saving yourself the trouble of lying to Jisung again. You needed to get the fried food smell out of your hair anyway.

You crawled into bed after trading the shower with Jisung, willing yourself to fall asleep before he was done so that you wouldn’t have to lie awake next to him feeling guilty like you had the night prior.

It must have worked because the next time you opened your eyes it was light outside. It was your alarm, not the sunlight, that had woken you up though. You rolled over with a groan to shut it off, noticing you had a couple of texts from Minho. Jisung was waking up next to you so you ignored them, turning your phone face down on the bedside table just in case he looked over.

“Ready for another day of family fun?” he groaned.

“Always.”

You got ready together and packed the rest of your things in your suitcase. Since you were only in Beijing for a couple of days, you hadn’t really made the effort to unpack. Everything was easily stuffed back into your luggage in a matter of minutes. You helped Jisung with his while he brushed his teeth. He had always been slow to get ready.

Despite your best friend’s speed or lack thereof, you and Jisung were the first ones down in the lobby. The rest of his family members trickled in slowly. First Felix, then Minho, and finally his parents.

You checked your bags with a luggage storage facility a block or so from the hotel so that you could walk around the city without worrying about it. The service was actually quite cheap and came with an option to insure your items just in case anything were to happen to them. You didn’t have anything valuable in your belongings aside from your laptop, but even that wasn’t anything crazy expensive. You couldn’t say the same of the rest of the Hans. Minho’s backpack alone was some fancy brand you didn’t recognize. Dom paid the extra fee for the insurance and herded everyone outside so that you could make it to the Forbidden City before scrambling to the airport.

You’d think with how much traveling you’d been doing in the past month that you’d be used to the chaos of airport security and customs but somehow you were still caught off guard by the TSA agents randomly selecting you to be searched.

“Fucking again?” you muttered to yourself as they pulled you aside.

“You’re just lucky, babe,” Jisung said sweetly with a pat on your back.

This time, he waited for you while the rest of the Hans went ahead to the gate. It didn’t take as long since you were the only one from the group that was selected.

“They’re about to start boarding, c’mon,” he ushered you through the terminal as soon as you were released, leading you by the hand as you weaved through the crowds. The whole ordeal gave you a strange sense of deja vu.

His parents were waiting by the front desk at the gate. They explained that Felix and Minho had already boarded and that you and Jisung should go ahead and board too while they sorted something out.

“Do you think everything’s okay?” you asked as you scanned your boarding pass.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he assured you, not sounding entirely confident in the matter.

“I can take the middle seat this time,” you offered, shimmying through the aisle so that you could walk and talk to Jisung at the same time.

“Are you sure? It’s a long flight.”

“I’m sure,” you insisted. “You’ve sat in the middle like every time so far.”

“That’s because I want you to be comfortable.”

“That’s very chivalrous of you.”

“I know, I’m a great boyfriend.”

You rolled your eyes and let Jisung squeeze by to settle into the window seat before sliding in next to him. You made eye contact with Minho as you hovered in the aisle. He was a handful of rows back with Felix and some stranger. He raised two fingers to his eyebrow in a cocky little salute, making you roll your eyes yet again.

Minho’s pick for the family trip was Bali, Indonesia. Unfortunately, there was no direct flight to Bali from Beijing which meant that you’d have to make two connections before finally touching down on the island.

Jisung told you that he picked it because he was a sucker for nostalgia. Apparently, the three of them had visited together a few years ago during one of the tour legs for his backup dancing and had the best time. He had loved it so much that he’d wanted to go back ever since and bring their parents but was so busy that he never had the chance until now.

The seat next to you stayed empty until the very last minute, giving you the false hope that you’d score extra space. It was eventually filled by a girl who looked to be about your age, who greeted you and Jisung politely before sticking her AirPods in her ears and ignoring you entirely.

You could tell that your best friend was into her as soon as he laid eyes on her. She was exactly his type- thick, tall, and she wasn’t giving him an ounce of attention. She checked all of his boxes.

“Keep it in your pants,” you muttered, unsure of whether she could hear you and/or speak English. You didn’t care either way.

“I wasn’t going to do anything,” he shot back defensively.

“Yeah, well your eyes are about to pop out of your head. Dial it back.”

“Shhh!”

“Oh sorry, am I embarrassing you?”

“Yes, kind of.”

“Sucks.”

“You’re the worst wing-woman ever.”

You nudged him subtly with your shoulder. “I’m not a wing-woman, I’m your girlfriend.”

“I know, I know.”

“Then fucking act like it!”

“Yes, dear,” he sighed and laced his fingers with yours.

You leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Maybe she could be our third.”

His eyes widened. “Really?”

“No!”

In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind having a threesome with a stranger, especially if they were as pretty as the woman next to you. It wouldn’t be your first time. But you could never cross that line with your best friend, especially now that you were involved with Minho.

You felt a little guilty for cockblocking him since you were getting laid, by his brother of all people, but there was just no feasible way to make it happen for him.

“Even if you did have enough game to pull her, there’s no way you’d be able to get away with a quickie in between flights.”

You kept glancing at the girl next to you out of fear that she was listening in and totally creeped out and horrified by your conversation about her, but she still had her earbuds in and appeared to have dozed off.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of!”

“Yes, I do! I’ve spent too many nights in your living room being forced to hear what you’re capable of.”

Jisung scoffed at you. “Perv.”

“What part of ‘forced to hear’ didn’t click?”

He glared but didn’t respond. Your whispering was beginning to get heated so you mutually decided to stop talking for the time being so that no one would be able to overhear you. Instead, you just traded increasingly absurd looks until you both got bored.

Jisung was the first to fall asleep, slumping against the wall of the plane in a position that couldn’t be comfortable. He’d forgotten to close the shade of the window so you leaned over and closed it for him so that the setting sun wouldn’t wake him up.

You were about to join him, leaning over to rest your head against his shoulder when your phone buzzed in your back pocket. You weren’t used to receiving notifications on a plane, but the airline you were flying had in-flight service. You had to shift awkwardly in order to reach your pocket and not wake either of the people beside you up.

The message made you want to scoff aloud.

M: is ji asleep?? come to the back ;)

You sat up straight and craned your neck to try and catch Minho’s eye, but his head was down, probably buried in his phone.

Y: what? no.

M: why not

Y: just because he’s asleep doesn’t mean i can come see you for no reason that’d be weird

M: are you just saying that because you’re afraid he’ll wake up?

Y: well yeah kind of

M: he won’t

Y: you don’t know that

M: c’mon, i’ll make it worth your time

Y: can’t you just tell me what this is about

M: but that ruins the surprise :(

Y: what surprise could you possibly have 30,000 feet in the air

Y: and don’t say your dick

M: …

Y: you’re so fucking annoying

M: all i’m saying is i haven’t joined the mile high club yet

Y: this is a commercial flight with your entire family. we’re not fucking on this plane.

M: worth a shot

Y: you’re insufferable

M: you love it

You sighed and put your phone face down in your lap, taking a quick glance to your left to see if Jisung was still asleep. He was still slumped against the wall with his eyes shut, seemingly dead to the world. You tried to do the same but it was hard from the middle seat. You were paranoid that if you were to doze off you’d accidentally lean over onto the stranger next to you. You’d seen enough rom-coms to know how awkward that would be.

You settled on scrolling through the in-flight movies on the little screen attached to the seat in front of you. You’d have to buy a pair of earbuds to watch anything, but you figured it would be worth it if it meant you wouldn’t be bored out of your mind for the next three hours.

There was a mix of Chinese and international films but everything was dubbed in Chinese either way and only a select few offered English subtitles. You picked one that you’d seen a little bit of press for back home and bought the earbuds from a flight attendant when they came around with the snacks.

It was late when your first flight landed and everyone was feeling worn out from all the tourism and traveling but you still had two more flights to catch before you’d finally be in Bali. The layover in the Hong Kong airport was two hours and you spent it trying to sleep whilst curled up next to Jisung in one of the stiff leathery chairs in front of the gate. Your exhaustion allowed you to fade in and out of consciousness fairly easily, but you were having trouble staying asleep. Each time you’d drift off you would suddenly jolt awake in a panic, thinking you were late for something.

Every time it happened, Jisung would assure you that he’d wake you up when it was time to board the plane, that you could rest, that they wouldn’t leave without you. Eventually, you gave up on the idea of getting any sleep altogether and resolved to just stay awake until you were on the next flight.

“I know this is the part of the trip where everyone’s getting tired,” Dom had said when you were walking from one side of the Hong Kong airport to the other, “but that’s why we saved the more relaxing destinations for the latter end- so we can all get some rest.”

His words did little to comfort you considering most of your energy was being spent keeping up with all the lies you were telling everyone but you smiled and nodded with the rest of the group anyway, trying to play along as always.

The second flight was about the same length as the first and this time you got the window seat. Jisung sat in the middle with Felix on his right and Minho and their parents filled up the row behind you.

“You should sleep,” Jisung suggested, brushing your hair out of your eyes.

“I’ve been trying to,” you grumbled back, unable to soften the tone of your voice.

You felt bad for snapping at him. He didn’t deserve that. Not after everything else you were doing behind his back.

“Sorry,” you mumbled in apology.

“It’s okay. I know you’re tired,” he assured you, making you feel even guiltier. “Do you want me to rub your head?”

You could only shake your head in response, not trusting yourself to speak. You suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to cry and turned your head towards the wall as your eyes welled up with tears. You didn’t even try to stop it, knowing it would be even more obvious if you did. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hide it from Jisung either, even if he couldn’t see your face. He knew you too well, knew your body language. But he didn’t ask about it, likely not wanting to alert Felix, who was oblivious, that anything was wrong.

Thankfully, the crying exhausted you even more and you were able to fall asleep, only to be woken up again when the flight landed at the second layover stop.

It was a shame that you wouldn’t be able to properly visit Malaysia but at least their airport was pretty nice. It had been several hours since you’d last eaten so Nikki ordered a bunch of food for everyone to share from the only kiosk that was open in the middle of the night. You shared a thing of white rice with Jisung but you didn’t have much of an appetite to try anything else which was a bummer since you didn’t know when you’d have another chance to.

The third and final flight was a few hours later. By then, you’d had a little food and sleep so you weren’t feeling as dramatically miserable as before but the numb feeling of guilt still lingered in your stomach. You assumed that wouldn’t change- not until you came clean to Jisung about… everything. And you couldn’t see yourself doing that any time in the foreseeable future because you were a pussy.

You’d rather end this fling with Minho now and take it to your grave than lose your friendship with Jisung. Was sleeping with someone twice considered a fling? Regardless, you had to end it before you got too attached. You weren’t sure what it was for Minho, but until he said otherwise you would stay under the impression that it was just sex. Again, it didn’t really matter what it was. You just had to put an end to it. You weren’t sure why you thought you could finally give into the sexual tension just because Minho found out you weren’t actually dating his brother but it didn’t matter now. It was too late and you were already suffering the consequences of your actions.

You’d given Jisung the window seat again which left you sandwiched in between him and Minho this time around, and being so close to him was making it difficult not to think about the intimate moments you’d shared with him. Your arms were just barely brushing against the armrest and yet that was the only part of your body that you could feel. He was just so warm that your attention was drawn to wherever your bodies connected- be it your arms, your lips, your thighs… but you couldn’t think about that now. Not when you were trying to cut yourself off from him in order to save your friendship. You wouldn’t have sex with Minho again. You couldn’t.

You were shaken from your thoughts by Minho nudging your shoulder. You gave him a questioning look, wondering what he would have to say to you with your best friend sleeping right there. He leaned over to whisper in your ear, smirking as he did.

“Wanna have sex?”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!

iou tags: @gimmeurtmi @phobia0325 @fwess @hipsdofangirl @galaxleeknow @urmomma0324 @bangmechanpls @102598s @farfromsugafanfic @ritzy-roo @dimpledsatan @bvselines @wonderfulshinee @imwithurmother @smollquokka @rosexjimin @skizzel @endzii23 @lady-lena @kwanisms @ch4nniebang @lilramennoodle @babyphotos0325 @dearalice @sojohns @mistlitmoonlight @yoontaethings @babebatter @mal-lunar-28 @shy-kisu @zerefdragn33l @downbadreading @sana-within-you @saquso @bunnispaces @reianagarcia @hyunehans @imtooyoungforthisshit @i8rsie @honeslykindahorny @214racha @hgema @chillllllli @vixensss @smhlino @feiyaa @borahae-reads @bigbearenergy @hoodiesandicedcoffee @darkacademic2512 @y00nzin0 @i8yul @shinypieceofgarbage @woozarts @just-a-little-delulu @djeniryuu @hbzzzbork000 @mimzibee @sofiaslayed @kangyounghyunhands @lexxxxs-things @baejinswrld @gaysontheprince @emogril @ngengngeng

add yourself to my taglist here!

#instead of you stray kids #instead of you skz #iou stray kids #iou skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee know x reader #lee know x female reader #stray kids x female reader #lee know x bi!reader #lee know series #stray kids series

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steviewashere · 9 days

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🪱🪱Worm Wednesday!!!!!🪱🪱

I was tagged by the lovely @hotluncheddie! Hello, I'm sorry for the rambling mess this is going to be. But I know I missed this like two weeks ago, so bear with me.

Okay, I'm going to try and be normal here. I have, honestly, so many worms in my brain. They're dancing and stomping and I'm just going fucking nuts with how much is in my brain at the moment. And also I took excedrin this morning for my migraine and that had caffeine in it and it's more caffeine than I would normally have—anyway.

Y'all already know one of my brain worms, the whole omega verse sensitive nips omega Steve thing. Which, I will plug the post here because I don't have the energy (yes, I do, but I don't want to echo myself) to share all the craziness about that in one post.

I'm also thinking about young Steve Harrington, which is kudos to this post and lots of people's tweets over on the twitter. I won't go into it, same reasons as the omega verse thing so just...again, bear with me.

But! But the actual brain worms I'm having currently, in this very moment, also have to do with another post I made on here. I want to go more in-depth with, though. So, some days ago, I came across an Instagram Reel that was a clip from the YouTube video interview between Jon Bernthal and Dungeon Master Deborah Ann Woll.

So, brief brief summary of this video is basically: Jon Bernthal says that he wants to play D&D, Deborah Ann Woll then gives him a scenario of walking through the woods and while he's walking he hears snap of twigs, and then she basically prompts him with "What do you do?" And he responds, now I can't remember exactly what he says, but I believe it had something to do with investigating the source of the snapped twigs.

Anyway, the video is excellent and you all should check it out. She basically explains D&D in a way that would make sense to anybody, in the matters of asking a player or a potential player what they'd do in certain scenarios, then bringing in the "rougher" elements such as the History checks or Perception checks in the game.

And I want to write something along the lines of Steve approaching Eddie about D&D. Maybe he wants to play because Dustin keeps bugging him about it, but he's too nervous to accept. Maybe he just wants to know what it's like. Maybe he even wants to be a substitute player one of these days just in case somebody can't show up. Something, y'know, where he's approaching Eddie. But he's really, really confused about where to even begin. He's got a character sheet, he's looking at the manuals loaned to him or he even bought himself, he's looking at all these stats and all these options and he just doesn't know where to begin.

Also, brief intervene here, I would be basing this off of 5e rules because that's what I play and frequently toy with. So...don't be mad at me if I get something "inaccurate for the time". I, first of all, honestly don't care. And second, I was not alive in like 1977 when the game first came out. And there's nobody in my life who played it then or possibly has played it ever outside of 5e. Moving on.

So, he tries to explain his character sheet to Eddie, obviously getting a bit overwhelmed in the process. But Eddie stops him. Says something like, "Hold on, okay? Let's just take a baby step here. I'm going to give you a scenario and then I want you to tell me what you'd do."

And he lays out that same, or even just something similar, to what Deborah Ann Woll gave. (I'm going to base this off of the video. Very original, I am.) So it's something like:

"Okay, you've got a small dagger attached to your belt, it's concealed within a hilt. And on your back, there's a bow and a quiver—or a pouch—of arrows. You're walking through the woods. It's dark, heavy clouds hanging overhead, moon obstructed, you can barely see your surroundings. There's leaves under your feet, gravel, sticks. But then, before you can step your foot down next, something crunches in the distance on your left. What do you do?"

There's a pause. A long moment where Steve is considering his options.

"It's a far away sound, right?" Steve checks and Eddie nods. There's a little hmph from Steve as he continues to think. "Can I tell how far away it is? Is there a way to distinct the length of it?"

Eddie maybe smirks, eyes already glowing. "Give a perception check." And at Steve's befuddled expression, leaning in and brows furrowed, Eddie continues on. "So, you're going to roll one of those dice that you always see the kids with. The D20, that's the one you'd use right now. 20 is the highest you can get"—

"The best I can get. And 1 is obviously the lowest, so the worst."

"Right! So...let's say you were to pick up a D20 right now and roll it. You get a...a fourteen. And your perception, one of those skills on the top of your paper"—and Eddie would grab Steve's character sheet, to point out the number he already placed there—"this one right here. And on your paper, it looks to be pretty high. A sixteen is what you have. So...I'm going to ask you to add three more to your dice roll."

Steve squints at the paper. He doesn't take long to do the math, muttering a little under his breath. "Okay...I'd have a seventeen for my perception check." And he looks up to Eddie for confirmation, in which he gets. "And if it's possible out of twenty...that means I can probably figure it out well, right?"

Eddie nods with a smug hum. "You're already a natural." He leans back a little from Steve. Eyes away in thought. Goes on, "So, I'll know right away, based on that number you give me that you're extremely perceptive. I tell you...okay, the sound you hear is roughly ten feet away on your left."

"That's really close," Steve murmurs. "I think I'll...I'll ready that bow on my back. Take it off, grab for one of my arrows. Poise it."

"Mmm...And as soon as you get your bow in the right position, you begin to make out what seems like a pair of eyes. From the darkness between the trees, those eyes emerge closer and closer, revealing the large figure of a sixteen foot owlbear. Its feathers are spread wide, splaying defensively. Eyes glowing, it seems, yellow and bright. The body girth of a bear, but the head and mannerisms of an owl. It trills and squawks in your face. What do you do?"

Anyway, it would go from there. Tried to figure out a monster that wasn't an owlbear because that's what was used in the video. But uh...my brain is not being original right now, so that's basically the whole example from the video. But I just adore that video so much, the simple, yet impactful way she taught the basics. And I think it could translate so well to Eddie and Steve messing with D&D together.

Sorry for a long ass post lmao

Tagging (no pressure): @puppy-steve @scoops-aboy86 @ataliagold @marvel-ous-m @pearynice

@wheneverfeasible @rogueddie @sidekick-hero

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #worm wednesday

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ftm-radio · 1 year

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hey everybody...

...and to celebrate, I want to play an ask game!

I have a pinterest board full of images (currently 786, jfc) that give me gender envy for whatever reason. All you have to do is send me an ask with any number from 1 to 786 and I will find the corresponding pin and share it on this blog.

Might be something cool, might be something weird or embarrassing. Who knows! That's part of the fun. tbh I barely remember what's on here at this point so this will be an interesting game for me, too.

if you don't want any part in this and don't wanna see it, that's ok! It's within your right to be a party pooper 💙. I'll be tagging everything so you can go ahead & block/filter this tag

#trans bday 2023

aaaaand you should be all set! 😊👍🏻

There's more info & disclaimers, please give these a read before sending anything!

💀 i tried to put this under a cut, but tumblr is dumblr 💀

in no particular order...

I'll be opening my inbox & starting this game today (the 14th) but technically my trans birthday is tomorrow. we're playing early because I'm impatient and also it's almost 800 pins, guys! I'd like to see as many of them as possible so my inbox will stay open through the 16th as well.

when you do send in asks, please be patient because I will be scrolling through almost 800 images and trying to remember how to fucking count 😫🙏 in addition to trying not to be on my phone all day.

anon will be on!

you can send multiple numbers in one ask, just, y'know, be reasonable. like no more than 8, alright?

you can send as many asks as you want, the more the merrier! (not to sound desperate but please send asks lmao)

while my inbox is open, if anyone sends other messages and stuff I most likely will not respond to them! just FYI. <3

none of these images are explicit, if anybody is worried about that. idk, just wanted to make that clear just in case!

95% of these images were found just by scrolling through pinterest. they are not mine & so I have no clue whether or not they were stolen or reposted, so that's my big disclaimer. ✌🏻😔

if anybody wants me to share a link to a shirt or whatever: no ❤

That's all I can think of, so here we go! 🥳🏳️‍⚧️

#ftm radio #trans bday 2023 #long post #ask game #trans #transgender #gender envy

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auxiliarydetective · 11 months

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Hi hun polite reminder people make OCs for fun and don't necessarily want to stick to canon. Your One Piece poet is useful for people who want to research and adhere to canon fandom lore but don't make it a prerequisite please as if we have to run everything by you for permission. Your tone is dictatorial in the nicest way and it's not on to tag people in your post either as it comes off as a critical rebuke that they're not doing it 'right'

Alright, I'm gonna try to respond to this as best as I can. Since you took time out of your day to write this, it's only fair I do the same.

First and most importantly of all, I'm not trying to police anyone's OCs. You're right, making OCs is about having fun. None of the tips in my post are mandatory. I was just trying to give a guideline for people who might struggle with the world of manga One Piece (which is ultimately what the live action is based off and will turn into in huge parts if it keeps running). I, personally, think immersion is very important for my OCs. It makes me happy when they fit into canon as if they belong there and whenever something about my OC gets contradicted through later installments in canon, I get pretty upset. So, in case anybody also feels like that, I made the post. That's who that post is for. If you're not one of those people, you're free to ignore it. It's not a lecture, nobody is forcing you to listen and apply it. Hell, even lectures aren't mandatory.

You said it yourself. You recognized who the post is for, that means you read it closely. With that in mind, I don’t understand why you think I'm making my points a prerequisite. I never said that and I never said you have to run things by me for permission. I said you can message me if you have questions or need help, not "message me before you post your OC or else it's illegal". It's about people who want their OCs to be canon-accurate not having to navigate 1000+ episodes/chapters worth of One Piece lore if they can ask a single question and get an answer instead. Nothing else.

My tone, I'm guessing where you get the prerequisite part from. I'm sorry, but it's not dictatorial at all. Dictatorial is a term you should be very careful with using. It is pointed, yes, but that's the tone in a lot of Tumblr posts, so I just tried to match that. If I wrote that post like a handbook or something, that would sound like making things mandatory, and it would make it dull to read, and I didn’t want that. If you want, you can give me suggestions to improve my tone and I'll see what I can do.

Now, the last point, you actually completely misunderstood what I was trying to say. Almost all of the people I tagged are people I know who I consider my friends. I know that they have One Piece OCs and we talked about those OCs, with me throwing in my two cents of canon knowledge to try and help make them fit in because I thought they might appreciate it or they asked me to. That's what I'm offering in that post, in a condensed form, the same things I told and offered them, because I felt like other people could maybe use them too. I tagged them to ask them to help spread that post to other people so they can maybe have some security being thrown into the chaotic fandom that is One Piece through an adaptation that offers only a very limited view on it at the current point in time. I wasn't trying to say that they were doing anything wrong at all and I'm pretty sure that they know that because of our previous interactions. The other people are people I tagged who I have only rarely interacted with, admittedly, but who I know to either have ties to people with OPLA OCs because I follow them or who I know to be very friendly and willing to help people. Again, no accusations here. I just wanted to help people and reach a wider audience because my blog is fairly small and unpopular. Finally, I intentionally didn’t tag them in the post itself but in a comment so that it was even easier for them to ignore it. Generally, I'm not very versed in Tumblr tagging etiquette, so if it's really not okay to tag people like that, those people can tell me themselves and I won't do it again.

Which brings me to my main point of this little response letter: You’re on the internet, you have the liberty to ignore things. So, the post wasn't for you. That's fine, you can ignore it. Even if you're one of the people I tagged, you're not obligated to follow my request and reblog the post. You can still ignore it and move on. But instead, you took the time to write your message, so I took the time to respond. If this didn't clear things up, feel free to send another message, I'm willing to talk

#ask #anon #i hope the tone is better in this one/gen #and to anyone reading this #if you ever have a problem with me or something i posted #we can talk things out

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undyingghoul · 2 years

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I'm Not Afraid (I'm Terrified)

I wrote this on a whim kind of. Today started out rocky and I started this fic to try and cope with it. There will be no tags for this, whoever finds it, finds it. Please be warned that this fic has suicide in it and is just in general a very heavy fic. I also wrote this listening to Emigrate's I'm Not Afraid so feel free to listen to that while reading if you'd want.

“I'm a stranger and no one.” Dewdrop didn’t know if he was even seen anymore. He didn’t feel like it, at least. He felt like he had been forgotten by everyone, even the other Ghouls and Ghoulettes seemed to forget he existed half the time. “Not in anybody's view.” Was he even seen anymore? It seemed that he was always ignored, always forgotten about, never included–what happened? When did things become this way? He doesn’t even remember what he did–if he did anything–to make this happen. “I'm jaded, I'm no fun.” Dewdrop didn’t mean to always cause trouble and chaos. He didn’t mean to always make someone upset or hurt someone with his words. They always yelled at him, punished him, scolded him–they never seemed to ask if there was something happening with him that made him act out like this. Did… Did they even care? “And I keep on moving through.” Dewdrop always kept a happy face, a happy smile. He couldn’t let them know he was hurting, right? Oh. Wait. They wouldn’t even notice, would they? He’s a stranger to them. A no one, even. He forgot that they had all stopped interacting with him three days ago. That’s fine though, he can just grab a spare room elsewhere in the Ministry. It’s like he’ll never have existed to begin with. “Haven't heard from God above.” He tried praying to the other God once. Lucifer never responded to his cries for help and he didn’t know what he’d expected when praying to the other one other than silence. That’s exactly what he got, too. Silence. Was everyone forgetting about him now? “No more pain for point of view.” Multiple times Dewdrop tried to see things from everyone else’s point of view. All it did was hurt him more when he acted it out, seeing just how poorly he had treated everyone. Now he knew. And now he didn’t blame them for shutting him out. He eventually stopped seeing things from others' points of view and focused on himself. “No salvation where I'm from.” He was never saved. He was never protected. Unless you want to call pissing everyone off and causing an unbearable amount of chaos saving and protecting, if even for himself, then he was never saved or protected. He may have been at one point but any memory of it was shut and locked away deep in his head. Never to be remembered again.

“Wonder who is fooling who.” Whether this was some sort of sick, cruel trick on Dewdrop was unknown to him. He wondered what the others were doing constantly without him there now. Were they happy? Were they more relaxed and not walking on eggshells? He didn’t know and he forced himself not to care about it. But he could only fool himself for so long. “All, all the hands I've laid.” Counting the times he’d ever laid a hand on anyone and himself made his head spin. He couldn’t figure out why he wanted to count in the first place–maybe some sort of guilt trip tactic his brain wanted to pull on him? If that was the case, it worked easily and quickly the higher he counted as he continued to remember it all. “All written along my face.” Every morning when Dewdrop would wake up he’d see the pain and suffering of all this when he looked in the mirror in the attached bathroom. He hated it, he hated seeing himself, so he punched the mirror until it was broken and shattered and his knuckles bleeding from the glass that cut him. He never wanted to see himself again. “I'm not afraid of anything.” For so long he kept telling himself he wasn’t afraid of anything. For so long he kept making himself act like he wasn’t afraid of anything. But was that actually the case now? Was he really not afraid of anything? Or was it all an act he played? “I just let it go.” Let it go. He just had to let it go, right? He tried every day to let it go, to let it not get to him. It only worked a handful of times and the other times it only made him more upset. Why was he like this? “Now I take on everything.” He felt like he had taken on everything the world threw at him and now he was collapsing from the weight of it all. Why did he do this to himself? Why did he let himself take all of this on? He regrets it, he wished he could get some of this weight off somehow. He felt like he was suffocating.

“To get out from the hole.” He really dug himself a hole this time. He made attempts to get out but every time he could never get his footing or the right hold with his hands to catapult himself out of this wretched hole he dug for himself. Was this the universe’s way of punishing him? “On the street that I remained.” Dewdrop felt stuck. He felt like he was trapped in a car with nothing in it and it was constantly driving forward, running over Lucifer knows what and jostling him around over and over again. He hated it. He wanted out. “Some have made another hole.” He didn’t know if anyone else was struggling like him and he wasn’t going to ask either. They didn’t want him around clearly so he was going to stay gone. If they really needed him for something they’d come and find him. Maybe he was hoping a bit that they would come and find him. Just a little bit. “Could it be that I'm to blame?” He cried and sobbed. He was the one to blame. He caused everyone so much pain and suffering and it was all his fault. Everyone suffered because of him. It was only fair for him to suffer because of himself too, right? “When the ground has turned so cold.” Dewdrop could feel himself slipping. Everything felt cold around him, even himself, despite the burning flame within him. No matter how warm he may have been he always felt so, so cold. Was his flame dying? “Can it be another thing?” He wants this to be some sort of nightmare. A nightmare that will scare him awake and everything would be ok once he woke up because it was just a nightmare. It’s just a nightmare, right? “Can it be a guarded hole?” He dug himself even deeper into his hole and now it felt like he couldn’t ever get out. Every time he tried he always failed and was shoved back into it deeper than before. It’s like it was being guarded. Like he wasn’t supposed to get out of this.

“And what we say is just a game.” Oh how he begged that everything was just a stupid little game everyone was playing to get back at him for all the stuff he’s done to them. He wouldn’t even be mad, he deserved this sick game. He was an asshole to his friends and assholes don’t get to be treated nicely. Maybe this was their form of punishment for him? “The one we play 'til we get old.” He hated this. He didn’t want to play this game anymore. “All, all the hands I've laid.” He’s hurting. His body aches. He’s done. “All written along my face.” He’s tired of this. He’s exhausted. He can feel it all over, written on him like someone had engraved it into him. “I'm not afraid of anything.” He’s afraid. He’s so afraid of it all. “I just let it go.” Why can’t he just let this go? “Now I take on everything.” He takes on more and more every passing day. How much is too much for him? “To get out from the hole.” He can’t get out anymore. He’s trapped. He’s given up. “I'm not afraid of anything.” He’s fucking terrified. “I just let it go.” Why hasn’t he let this go? “Now I take on everything.” He’s taken on too much. He can’t take it anymore. “To get out from the hole.” He’s trying to think of a way to get out. But he can’t. “I'm not afraid of anything.” He’s afraid of his mind. “I'm not afraid of anything.” He’s afraid of everyone. “I'm not afraid of anything.” He’s afraid of the punishment he could get. “I'm not afraid of anything.” He’s afraid of the world. “I just let it go.” How could he let it go? “I'm not afraid of anything.” He’s afraid of the voices in his head. “I just let it go.” He can’t let it go.

“Now I take on everything.” He’s taken on too much to handle. He’s collapsing in on himself. “To get out from the hole.” The hole is too deep. He can’t get out. “I'm not afraid of anything.” He’s afraid of himself. “I just let it go.” He has to let it go. “Now I take on everything.” He looked down at the ground from the roof of the Ministry, holding onto the cone-shaped roof with his arm. He takes a few deep breaths. He says a silent goodbye to everyone he met, everyone he knew. Tears escape his eyes and he lets out a choked sob. He deserves this. He deserves this. He deserves this. He deserves this. The words repeat in his head like a mantra. He shuts his eyes and shakes his head violently, screaming and crying before they snapped open and he looked down again. He took big gulps of air before his face fell and his screaming and crying ceased. “I deserve this.” He mumbled as tears slipped from his eyes. “To get out from the hole.” He let his arm fall away from the roof and pushed himself forward.

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letsgivethisonemoreshot · 3 years

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BruiserMates

Word Count: 4,644 (it's a long one)

Warnings: Sexual Situations, banter, there's some fluff in there somewhere.

Summary: The British Bruiserweight is more grumpy than usual. But his friends and a co-worker think they just might know a way to fix it. (Also, I tried to make an attempt to keep true with accents for the first time. So I apologize if it's horrible!)

The lukewarm water rushed out of a shower head in the back of the arena. The water pressure in these showers were never that good, but it was early and Lauren had the whole locker room to herself. She had the curtain drawn for privacy, just in case anyone else arrived early. Mostly because she was in the men’s showers. And just as she was rinsing the shampoo out of her hair, she heard several voices from the locker room echo into the bathroom.

"You could've stopped to get breakfast first." A British accent rang out.

"They 'ad food at the hotel." The familiar accent of Pete filled the room.

"Not anything for a vegan. And ya know that." Another voice argued.

"I don't know every damn vegan place in tha country." Pete spat back.

"Uh guys, just so you know you're not alone in here." Lauren informed them.

"Who in the bloody hell is that?"

"Lauren. I'm a backstage interviewer here. I really needed a shower after my workout before I got ready to work and they were cleaning in the women's locker room when I got there. No one was in here so I ran in. I'll be quick." She explained.

"Pete?"

"Yeah, she works here." He vouched, recognizing her voice.

"Ah. Alright then love. As long as you work here. I'm Tyler by the way."

"Trent." The other voice rang out.

"You guys are here from NXT UK for the tag tournament, right?" Lauren asked.

"You got it love." Trent answered as he turned on a shower on the opposite side of where Lauren was. "And you don't 'av to rush. We don't mind if you don't."

"As long as you stay on that side of the curtain." Lauren responded in a joking but friendly way.

"Great." Pete murmured.

"What's wrong with you?" Trent asked him.

"He's still sore about his girlfriend messin' around on him." Tyler answered getting ready to get a shower himself.

"Tell my business to the whole locker room, why don't ya." Pete said annoyed.

"She's the only otha one in here. And she sees ya more than us. I'm sure she's noticed you're grumpy."

"No more than usual." Lauren said as she conditioned her hair.

"Aw piss off all of ya."

"See? He's always this pleasant."

"I thought you said you were gonna be quick." Pete pointed out.

"I was, until Trent was nice enough to tell me I didn't have to. So now I'm taking my time."

Pete let out an aggravated grunt. "I can't shower with 'er in here."

"Relax Pete, I'm almost done. What brings you guys in here so early anyway?"

"Time change. Kind of has us messed up. And Pete just doesn't sleep." Tyler replied. "What about you? And working out nonetheless. I’d think you’d moreso be off writing questions."

"How else am I supposed to fit myself into those tiny dresses they want me to wear?" Lauren partially joked, causing two of the englishmen to chuckle. "I have a few interviews I have to do for some social media shows before the actual show tonight. This was the only time I could fit in a work out. I was going to shower real quick then get to work, but the women’s bathroom was closed, so I that brought me here. I guess it’s just bad timing.”

"Ah, I wouldn't say that love." Trent said.

"Well maybe not on my part. Anybody could walk in here. So many people have probably had fantasies that start like this. But apparently, it’s bad timing for some of you.”

"Would any of those fantasies include any of us by any chance?" Trent asked in a joking tone.

“Trent, ya can’t just ask a woman ya just met something like that.” Tyler chastised.

“Why not? I’m just joking.”

"Hm, some just might." Lauren answered.

"For fucks sake…"

"Jesus Pete calm down, I'm done. I'll be out of your hair in a minute." Lauren said as she turned off the water and wrapped her towel around herself.

"Yeah relax mate. We're just messin' around." Trent said to his friend.

"You need to get laid." Lauren stated.

"Excuse me?" Pete asked, sounding offended.

"We've been telling him that the last two weeks love." Tyler said to her.

She pulled open the curtain and stepped out of the shower stall. "Take it from someone who pushed away a lot of her friends by being a negative mope after going through a rough breakup. If she's gonna fuck around, then so can you. Try smiling, go get laid, and live. See ya later boys. I believe I'll be the one interviewing you later!" Lauren called out before walking away.

Lauren left them alone in the men's locker room and walked back to the women's which was thankfully now able to be occupied. She walked quicker than she planned seeing as how she couldn't get dressed there with the guys there. So she was running around in just a towel. No one had really showed up to get ready yet, but she still had to go over interview questions, get dressed, and was expected by the stylists soon. She was rummaging through her bag when there was a lock at the door. She dropped what was in her hands and curiously walked over to the door. Upon opening it she saw an annoyed Pete Dunne standing there. He was still in his trousers, nice button down shirt, and vest. His hair pulled back. Obviously he still hadn't gotten into the shower yet.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from you? Miss me already?"

Pete held out a plastic bag with tiny bottles inside. "Ya left your crap in the shower."

"And you're such a gentleman you brought it back to me?" Lauren joked.

"I drew the short straw."

"You sure it doesn't have anything to do with what I said?" She asked as she took the plastic bag from him. “Because my fantasies about you usually start with me still dressed and you ripping my clothes off me, but if this is how it happens I’ll take it.”

“No, it’s because I was the only one who was still dre…wait, what?”

Lauren smiled "Thanks for bringing my stuff back Pete. I forgot it in all the conversation. And if you’re just here to drop it off, I really need to finish getting ready. I need to be in make-up soon. I’ll see you around later.”

She closed the door, leaving Pete standing there dumbfounded at the interaction he just had.

Lauren had gotten dressed and was sitting in the make-up chair. She had decided on a short black off the shoulder dress. Even though the shoulders were bare, the dress had long sleeves, making a bit more acceptable in the workplace. The strappy heels that she had on also made it a bit less casual. She already had her hair done. She chose to leave it down since it was only shoulder length, but add some waves to it. Pete had wandered over to the area as Lauren was laughing while the make-up artist applied the dusty pink lipstick. Lauren was deep in conversation with the artist. She got along with everyone. Well, mostly everyone. She was easy to talk to and calming, which was a plus with her job. The interviews always flowed nicely and never seemed forced. She never really had any real problems with anyone she worked with. Pete leaned against a wall off to the side watching her talk. He had his wrestling gear on now, and had his long hair dangling down over half of his face.

"Alright, all set. How's it look?" The make-up artist asked as she held up a mirror.

"It looks great! Thanks Rachel!"

"Awesome. If you need a touch up just let me know."

"I will. Thanks!"

Lauren checked in the mirror one last time, pursing her lips together, before jumping out of the make-up chair and leaving it for someone else. She walked away from the styling area and right passed where Pete was brooding.

"Lauren."

"Hey Pete." Lauren replied as she walked by.

"Hey, hold up."

"What's up?" She asked as she stopped and turned to him.

"You tell me." Pete stated.

"Is this about what I said earlier? I’m sorry for getting involved in your business. And I never would have said anything had we not already been in the middle of a conversation. But I’ve been there, and I didn’t want you to end up pushing your friends away with your bad attitude like I did.” She explained.

"Not that. After. At the locker room." Pete said in a much lower voice.

Lauren smiled and crossed her arms. "What is this? When is Pete Dunne so timid?"

Pete rolled his eyes. "F'get it."

"No I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself." Lauren said reaching out to grab his arm. "I'll be good. What did you want?"

"You to stop being intimidating for a moment would be good."

"I've heard that once or twice before, but not from anyone like you."

"What you said earlier, did you mean it?" Pete asked changing the subject.

"That you need a good lay to forget about her? Absolutely. Your friends seemed to agree."

"No. That you've 'ad fantasies about me." He said as he took a step closer to her.

"Maybe a few times." She answered, surprising him by the serious tone in her voice. He stood there not quite sure how to follow up while Lauren opened the small bag she had with her and looked through it. "Listen, I really have to go and interview Daniel Bryan. But if you want to take my advice, I would love to be the girl that gets under you to get over her. Room 308 if you're interested."

She slipped her spare hotel key into his hand before turning around and continuing to walk down the hallway. Later on that night Pete sat in the back watching the show on a t.v. He was watching Lauren interview his two best friends while he spun the hotel key around in his fingers while being lost in thought. He pulled it together to go out and put on a good show, like he always did. All of his cockiness and aggression was on display. Lauren had been watching his match extra closely that night.

After the show Lauren was sitting alone in her hotel room. She hadn't made any plans for the night in case Pete decided to show up. After about an hour of waiting, she decided to change her clothes and get comfortable. She had the television on and was laying down in the bed, trying to relax, but she found herself not paying attention to it and trying to figure out what reasons Pete could have for not showing up. After driving herself crazy for some time, around 11:30 she realized she was being silly. His good friends whom he hadn't seen in months were in the country for a bit, so he was going to be spending time with them. Plus with all the joking around that she had done with him that day he probably didn't even think she was serious. Or maybe he just wasn’t interested and didn’t know how to tell her in a nice way. Lauren grabbed her phone and laid down on her bed to play some games until she got tired. Only a few minutes after she relaxed herself for the night, there was a knock at her door.

Lauren put her phone down and got out of bed. She walked over to the door curious of who could be there this time of night, especially without texting her first. She looked through the peephole and saw Pete standing on the other side. She quickly opened the door.

"You do realize I gave you a key so you wouldn't have to knock and wait in the hallway, right?"

"I didn't feel right usin' it." Pete told her.

Lauren opened the door wider and stepped aside inviting him in. He stood near her as she closed the door.

"I see you stayed dressed for me." Pete joked as he looked at her in her pink tank top and black yoga pants.

"I could say the same for you." Lauren retorted noticing Pete was in grey sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"It's not m' job to look pretty." Pete stated.

"Good thing I'm off the clock then."

They hadn't really talked much before now, other than just a hello or exchanging pleasantries. Maybe being involved in the same conversation as a group of people. Mostly that was because Pete kept to himself or only really talked with the people he was close to, where as Lauren would talk with everyone and insert herself into others conversations. But Pete definitely took notice today that not many people were able to throw back at him the way that she did, and he liked it.

"So did you just come here to criticize my clothes or…" Lauren trailed off.

"Actually, I wanted to talk." He answered.

"Oh, uh okay."

Lauren definitely hadn't been expecting that. She lead him into the room a little bit more and she sat down on the edge of the bed. Pete took one of the seats that were in the room and placed it in front of her before sitting down as well.

"So?"

"I've been thinking about what ya said. And you're right. If she's gonna bang a bunch of guys and not care, then I should too. Well, ya know."

"So what's the hold up?" Lauren asked.

"I don't want pity sex with someone just because they feel sorry fa' me. Especially if it's someone I 'av to work with."

"I can understand that. I'm not really one for random hook ups either." Lauren agreed.

"But then why did you…"

"I like you Pete." Lauren told him.

"Why? I'm kind of a bastard." Pete asked confused.

Lauren laughed. "Yeah, most of the time. I've watched you. You're grumpy face and your angry promos. But I've also seen the way you joke around with your friends. I've seen how interact with kids. I know how much you care about animals. There's a sweet guy behind that whole bruiserweight thing."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Your best friends. Those goofballs wouldn't waste their time with a complete asshole." Lauren answered with a smile. She reached out and placed her hand over top of his. "I'll be honest. I've had the hots for you since you started coming around. And then when I actually learned things about you I had a crush on you. And seeing you laugh with your friends, I've wondered what it would have been like if we had that kind of relationship."

Pete couldn't help but flash a genuine smile that he usually kept hidden. "Why didn't ya eva say anything?"

"You had a girlfriend, remember?"

"Right. Right. Forgot about that."

"Well that was the plan." Lauren giggled.

"So girls really dig the whole aggressive arse thing huh?" Pete asked amused.

"Oh yeah. There's something wired wrong in our brains. And the accent doesn't hurt either.”

Pete leaned back slightly in his chair and chuckled.

"Did I just make Pete Dunne laugh?" Pete didn't even try to hide it this time after she pointed it out. "Up until now I think I've only made you scowl."

"Yeah yeah, just don't spread it around."

"Don't wanna ruin your unlovable reputation, huh?"

They both sat in awkward silence for a few moments, neither knowing what to say next. Pete fidgeted in his chair slightly before standing up. Lauren promptly stood up along with him. He reached out and pulled her to him so her body was flushed with his, wrapping his arms around her in a bear hug. The act took her by surprise.

"Thanks." He said into her ear.

Lauren put her arms around her torso returning the hug. But her senses perked up. He was still holding her, his head down and his nose grazing her neck. The thought of his mouth that close to her, with his history of biting, sent an electric wave through her nerves. She tried to push those thoughts out of her head and hugged him tighter.

"Anytime Pete." She said lightly.

Pete broke the hug and stepped aside looking down at her smiling. She gave him a half hearted smile. She was glad that she was able to be there for him, and it seemed like there was a friendship forming between them. But she was a little disappointed that it wasn't going further. And embarrassed that she told him how she felt, and now she had to deal with him at work all the time with him knowing that. She didn't say anything as she followed him as he walked to the door.

"I'll see ya around, alright?" Pete said as he put his hand on the doorknob.

Lauren nodded with a smile. She closed the door behind him and leaned it against it sighing. She felt like an idiot. She was just hoping he wouldn't make a big deal about it at work. She began walking back to her bed. When she was a few steps away, she heard the door click. She turned around and saw the knob turning. It pushed open and Pete walked back inside.

"Hey. Everything okay?" She asked confused.

He slammed the door behind him and walked towards Lauren, throwing the room key onto the bed as he passed it. He made it to where she was and placed his bands on her hips and pushed her up against the wall crashing his lips down onto hers. Lauren put her hands up on his shoulders, bracing herself at his actions. He moved his hands from her hips up to her sides all while continuing kissing her neck. He traced along the top of her tank top before grabbing it with both hands and ripping it down the middle. Lauren gasped into his mouth. Pete didn't give her any time to adjust to what he was doing before his hands traveled back down her body and behind her thighs picking her up and pressing her against the wall. He tore his lips away from hers to slowly lick down her chest until stopping at her partially exposed breast. He lightly licked around her nipple a few times before taking it into his mouth. Lauren ran her fingers through Pete's hair, softly moaning. When he lightly bit down she moaned deeper and arched her back off of the wall. Pushing herself even further into him, she became even more aware that her legs were spread around him and she could feel herself getting wetter every time he nibbled.

Pete pulled her away from the wall and carried her over to the bed. Lauren laid on the bed looking up at him trying to catch her breath. He was looking down at her with his signature cocky smirk. He reached out and lightly grabbed the waistband of her pants before yanking them off and crawling on top of her. Pete nuzzled into her neck kiss and biting causing her to arch her hips up and feel the large bulge in his sweatpants. Lauren slid her hands under his shirt and scraped her fingers down his chest bringing a low growl from him.

"You are wearing entirely too many clothes." Lauren informed him.

Pete chuckled, but it wasn't the light hearted one from earlier, there was a deeper tone to it. There was something sexy in that chuckle. He leaned up onto his knees and peeled his shirt off.

Lauren took the moment to just look at him, kneeling in front of her with his hair hanging down partially in his face. Watching his eyes in the light. He could see her eyes glancing up and down his body.

"Is this what ya wanted?" He asked.

"Fuck yes." Lauren answered out loud, instead of in her head like she planned. "But this was supposed to be for you."

"Does it seem like I'm not enjoyin' it?"

"Well yeah, but what is it you want?" Lauren asked.

"Haven't been asked that in a long time. Honestly?" Lauren nodded. "I want someone to want to be with me. Not just use me ta get off and pass out. Someone who enjoys being with me. To feel loved."

Lauren leaned up so she was sitting up in bed facing him. "Really?"

"Yeah. Sounds stupid. I guess when ya with someone for so long those things kind of become lost."

"No Pete, they don't." Lauren said as she placed her hand on his face. "That's what happens when people stop caring."

The words hurt Pete, but deep down he knew she was right.

"Lay down." She told him.

"What?" He asked confused.

"Take your pants off and lay down. Let me take care of you." She said it in such a calming tone, you'd forget they were just dry humping each other.

He complied with what she asked. Lauren removed her underwear and straddled him. He rubbed his hands on her thighs She pulled off what was left of her shirt. Pete unknowingly bit his lower lip upon seeing her naked in front of him.

"Like what ya see?" She asked with a coy smirk

"Damn love."

"You sure you wanna do this?" She asked him.

"Love if you don't get on me right now I'm going to push you down and get back on top of you."

Lauren smiled and moved to slide herself down onto his dick. She gasped as she slid down. She could have guessed the size of it based on what he wore in the ring, but she didn't think it was as thick as it was. Pete hissed as she began riding him.

"Fuck babe. You're so tight." He commented.

"Yeah, it's been a while." She replied as she rolled her hips.

"You're so wet." He stated.

"I told you, I like you. Now are you gonna do commentary the whole time or just enjoy it?"

"Oh I'm enjoying it love." Pete said as his hands slid up her legs. He groaned as he saw her bouncing on him, her breasts bouncing along with her. He ran his hand along her body and brushed his finger onto her clit causing her to yelp. He liked the sound that she made and continued to rub along her clit as she rode him.

"Fuck Pete if you keep that up I'm not gonna last long." She warned him.

"You keep makin' those sounds I won't eithea."

Lauren pushed his hand out of the way and brought her upper body down so she could kiss him before moving to his neck. She began kissing and sucking on his neck like he had been doing to her earlier. Pete reached around with both hands to grab her ass. She was moving at a slow and steady pace, keeping with his grunts of pleasure. She would bite down on his neck every once in a while hoping to catch him off guard. He would squeeze his grip tighter pushing her at a different pace causing her to moan.

"Wait, Lauren stop." Pete said suddenly.

Lauren stopped and sat up. "What's wrong?"

"I wanna be on top." He told her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

Lauren wanted to stay on top and take care of him, but it's what he said he wanted to she switched positions with him. She had to admit having Pete in between her legs staring her down was something she had thought about several times. He began placing kisses down her collar bone as she ran her fingers through his hair again.

"Mmmm Pete, please." Lauren begged bringing a smile to his lips.

"Please what?" Pete asked as he ran his length along her entrance, teasing her.

"I know I'm being selfish at the moment but please, I need you." She moaned as she tried to push herself closer to him.

"Baby, I love hearing you beg." He said as he entered her starting slow at first.

"Pete, faster please."

Pete grunted before speeding up, loving the feeling of her needing him, He began to thrust harder as he sped up. Lauren wrapped his leg up around his waist to give him better access.

"Oh God Pete, I'm so close." Lauren said as she scratched her nails down his back.

"Let go for me love." He rasped into her ear.

Lauren grabbed onto Pete's face to pull him into a passionate kiss as she came. Pete finished shortly after her before collapsing next to her. Their session was relatively quick, but emotional and intense. They laid next to each other trying to catch their breath.

"Well, that was unexpected." Pete stated.

"Yeah, definitely didn't think that was gonna happen when I woke up this morning." Lauren agreed as she laid next to him.

"I'm sorry it wasn't really what ya wanted." Pete apologize.

"What do you mean?"

"Ya said you wanted aggressive, and ripping clothes off, and all that."

Lauren leaned up on her elbow and turned to face him. "That's one of the things I've thought about, but I really just wanted you Pete."

He responded by lightly placing his hand on her head and pulling it down to rest on his chest. Lauren laid there cuddling on Pete, which is something she never would have expected from him, and soon found herself falling asleep.

Around three in the morning Lauren jerked awake. She didn't mean to fall asleep. She didn't even realize she was that worn out. Or maybe just comfortable. The room was now all dark, Pete must have turned the lights out. She couldn't see anything but she felt over to the other side of the bed and it was empty. Of course it was. He came for what she said she'd give him and then left. He wasn't looking for anything beyond that. Lauren knew that when she offered him to come to her too, but she didn't think it would hurt that much when he was gone. She laid back down in her beg and pulled the covers up feeling pretty stupid. Just then she heard the toilet in her bathroom flush and the door open. Pete walked out of the bathroom and back over to the bed.

"Pete?" Lauren asked.

"Hm." He replied.

"I thought you left."

"Why tha hell would I do that?" He asked as he pulled up the covers and got back into bed next to her.

"You were gone. I thought you got what you wanted and left. Especially after I fell asleep on you."

"I believe you're tha one that wanted this love." He reminded her. "You’re the one that offered."

"Well, yeah…"

Pete wrapped his arm around her waist and held her hand, lacing his fingers in with hers. He nuzzled his nose into the back of her neck.

"I'm pretty glad you did though." He admitted. This was the most love he had felt in a long time. He really felt like the person he was with wanted him, needed him. That she was focused on him, and it made him want to be focused on her. He felt an actual connection, which is something that he had been missing.

"I'm not goin anywhere for awhile love." He said as he squeezed her into hug, pulling her body to his. "I loved those sounds I heard earlier. They drove me crazy. I look forward ta havin' ya make more."

Lauren giggled as Pete kissed the back of her neck. Neither knew what the future would hold, but right now they were both enjoying the moment.

#pete dunne #pete dunne one shot #pete dunne fanfic #pete dunne imagine #wwe fanfic #wwe fanfiction #mustache mountain

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spencers-renaissance · 4 years

Text

Mayhem

Summary: Imagine that scene in S4E1 when Derek is driving the ambulance loaded with a bomb about to explode, except it's Spencer on the other end of the phone and they finally get their shit together.

Tags: canon divergence, spencer is the tech analyst, death-bed love confessions, getting together, mutual pining, insecure spencer, angst with a happy ending, fluff

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 4.2k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

A Gift For: @habs252117 — anybody can request fics in my ask box :)

A quick recap as this follows S4E1 which is technically a follow-on from the last ep of S3:

The BAU was called to the NY field office to investigate a series of random shootings in the city, often on subways and shit. They realise that this is actually a terror cell practicing for their big attack, and as this fic starts, they believe that the shootings were all in locations they planned to bomb in order to test 911 response times. Kate Joyner is Hotch's old friend, the blonde English one from Scotland Yard and Lisa is Lisa Bartleby, the NY field office tech analyst assigned to help Penelope in the show, Spencer in the fic.

The case had been stressful enough from the beginning. Spencer doesn’t often get to join the team in the field, usually staying in his computer den back in Quantico, so he’d initially been quite excited: he’d get to spend more time with Derek, plus visit New York, which he’s always had a strange sort of affinity for, as well as see his team in action. But then he’s working with equipment that isn’t his and they slowly piece together just how complicated this terrorism ring is and things seem more… bleak rather than exciting.

They’d all been starting to make their way back to the hotel when the news of the bombing hit the networks, and Spencer’s heart is in his mouth as he rushes back to his post, meeting Lisa Bartleby with harried nods of acknowledgement. Almost as soon as he’s settled at his desk the phone starts ringing.

“Spencer,” Rossi greets as soon as he picks up, “you’ve seen the news?”

“Yes, I— do you know where anyone is? What should I do?” he asks, feeling the panic settle on his chest, his stomach clenching in fear he doesn’t dare try and address.

“I’m here with Penelope, she’ll handle the media,” Rossi says, and Spencer realises that he can hear her low, steady voice she always employs in moments of extreme stress in the background of the call. “I need you to call homeland security and direct them to every site of the recent shootings. Tell them to pour troops in. If our profile is right we’re looking at eight suicide bombers who are about to hit every one of those locations.”

“Actually, if we’re correct, there’ll be sixteen suicide bombers,” Spencer realises with a start. “We predicted they’ll hit the second wave of first responders, too.”

Their conversation is interrupted by the news reporting that the bomb was inside a black SUV near the Federal Plaza and Spencer is pretty sure his entire body stops for a moment: cells stop replicating, blood stops flowing, hair and nails stop growing. This is his family. And he doesn’t know where any of them are, spread across an unfamiliar, dangerous city.

“Right, Spencer, do you have eyes on the Plaza?” Rossi asks, controlled urgency colouring his voice as he tries to keep himself and everyone else as calm as possible.

“Uh— yes, I’ve got like three hundred cameras there,” he says, glancing at Lisa, the NY field office’s contribution to his technological complex, as they jump into action, “give me a minute.”

“I’m here with Penelope, but I don’t know where anyone else is,” Rossi says, and for the first time Spencer can hear the panic rising in his voice. It’s quickly suppressed, but it’s there, and it does nothing to help him calm down. “Find them.”

He instructs Lisa to find every camera feed 20 blocks out concentrically from 26 Federal Plaza before fiddling with his headset, taking a deep breath, and, naturally, trying Derek first. His name has been circling round Spencer’s head like a prayer ever since they heard that it was potentially one of their own hit by the bomb, and the knot in his chest starts to unravel when he picks up the phone.

“Yeah, I’m still here,” Derek says, sounding impatient and stressed, but Spencer doesn’t mind. He’s alive. He’s okay.

“Thank God,” Spencer breathes. He keeps him on the line while he tries Emily, who sounds just as anxious when she picks up. He doesn’t mind though, he’s keeping a tally of everyone he knows is safe and it’s the only thing making him any less panicked. When JJ doesn’t pick up, the knot tightens a little and he tries to ignore the little string of ‘no no no’s dancing through his mind.

He hears Emily’s distressed exhale and closes his eyes for a second before forcing himself to get his head back in the game. The phone goes dead mid-JJ’s voicemail message, and then Emily drops off the call, Derek following, and that’s it. He’s lost contact with his team, JJ and Hotch still unaccounted for. Before he can actually lose his head, Lisa is calling him over, and he finally has eyes on the bombing.

He has to watch the man he sees as a father projected through the air by the blast from the bomb, and all he can hear for a solid five seconds is the fear buzzing in the static electricity around his ear.

⭐️

Derek arrives at the site of the explosion riled up in a way he hasn’t been for a long time, his only consolation being that he knows Spencer is safe. God, you can definitely count on working a terrorist attack in New York City to accentuate your crippling crush on a coworker; a subtle burn has settled itself across Derek’s chest, the urge to hold and protect Spencer far too distracting for the circumstances.

He reports immediately to Captain Warner but before he’s even able to identify himself, he hears Hotch shouting desperately for help and he slips immediately into rescue mode.

“Hey! This area’s restricted,” an ESU shouts at him, as soon as he dashes for the barrier, and he forces the blinding anger flaring in his stomach to simmer down as he turns to the Captain again.

“That’s my boss down there,” he shouts, making himself as intimidating as possible.

“I have my orders,” the Captain replies simply, eyes hard and unrelenting.

“I don’t give a damn what your orders are.” He’s finding it increasingly hard to restrain his anger as he hears Hotch shout again, turning to look hopelessly down the road at him.

“Look, I get it agent,” Warner attempts to placate him, “but we’ve been told by you that responders are the targets. So until the blast site is cleared, no-one goes in.”

Derek spins around to face him again. “You’re Marine Corps, right?” By the look on Warner’s face, he’s found his way in. “Right?”

“Please, go back to the marshaling point,” he replies, the fight draining out of him.

“I’m not doing it,” Derek yells stubbornly, furiously. “I’m not just gonna let my man lay down there like that.” Conveniently, Hotch’s miserable call comes down the road again and Derek meets the Captain’s eyes with a hard gaze. “Never leave a man behind. You do remember that, don’t you?”

“Help us!” Hotch screams again. “We’re here! Please!”

Derek glares at the Captain, and sprints as fast as he can towards Hotch as soon as he nods his okay. His boss is clearly disoriented and in a state of obvious distress but he doesn’t look terribly injured. Kate, on the other hand, is clearly a different story, and any hope Derek has for her survival melts away as Hotch explains her arterial bleed and he has to tell him that they can’t expect an ambulance any time soon. He tries to tell the kid crouching down by Kate to leave, but he seems reluctant.

Derek doesn’t have the headspace to analyse why until he’s finally got him to run off and Spencer’s ringing him to tell him that he’s the bomber.

⭐️

As soon as Spencer hears Derek run off after the bomber he feels his stress levels rising again. If Derek dies before Spencer finally works up the courage to tell him that he’s in love with him, he’ll never forgive himself for being such a coward, and he’ll never forgive Derek for leaving him.

Immediately, he patches into the marshaling point and tells the rest of them, who have only just all reunited, what’s going on.

“The bomb,” he explains, talking as fast as he can, “it was under Kate’s SUV. Hotch is out there with her, he seems okay but Kate is really hurt; they haven’t been able to move her.”

“Where was her SUV parked?” Rossi asks as they all gather around the computer.

“Two blocks east of Federal Plaza.”

“Two blocks east and they target Kate’s SUV?” He sounds incredulous. “Have you identified the bomber?”

“Lisa’s running him through VICAP,” he says, but shrugs hopelessly. He knows it’s a lost cause.

“Call Homeland Security,” Rossi instructs Penelope. “They should be at all the murder sites. See if they found anything.” She nods and stalks away on her heels, still managing to stay cool under pressure. Spencer would envy her, but he knows it’s only an external front, only a mask she has to wear out of complete and utter necessity.

“Okay, okay, but Morgan,” Spencer says, feeling more impatient and stressed than before, “he’s run after the bomber.”

“He’s run after the bomber?” JJ asks, bewildered. “Why?”

“He was at the bomb site,” he replies. “I’m trying to trace him on the city's CCTV network, but the feeds are grainy at best and completely severed at worst.” This is feeling more and more hopeless by the second, and the light at the end of the tunnel is only dimming.

“Keep trying,” Rossi says, and then he’s turning to the rest of the team.

Spencer takes a few calming breaths and focuses back on the computer in front of him. Find Derek, he thinks. Find Derek and, when this case is over, stop being a coward and tell him how hopelessly in love with him you are. The pool of dread and fear weighing his stomach down only seems to deepen as he searches relentlessly through the CCTV feeds he can access, looking for Derek and the bomber chasing through the streets of the city. Eventually, he finds him and follows his movements down to the subway station. He watches with baited breath as Derek looks around the empty platform, clearly shouting to the unsub, though Spencer can’t hear what he’s saying. He speeds up the feed, seeing as it’s delayed slightly and fast forwards to Derek entering the tunnel, his sense of dread only intensifying as he loses visual.

Trying desperately not to panic, he fast-forwards until he’s watching in real time, but Derek still hasn’t emerged, and neither has the bomber, both still hiding in the secrecy of the depths of the city’s transport network. There’s a vague spark of light — which he later finds out was the bomber electrocuting himself on an exposed part of the railway — only barely visible on the poor quality of the camera feed, before Derek emerges, looking rattled but very much alive.

He doesn’t have much time to celebrate Derek’s livelihood, however, because JJ and Penelope are patching him back through to their conversation.

“Spencer, Homeland Security has poured tactical teams into all the locations on the geo-profile — SWAT, bomb techs, HRT, hazmat, the works — they found nothing,” Penelope says, clearly puzzled and frustrated.

JJ’s about to reply when something catches her eye. “Yeah, all except one,” she says. “Kate’s SUV — none of the shootings were near it.”

“Maybe it’s personal,” Penelope muses. “I mean, this death card they gave us; they delivered on it.”

“No,” Spencer jumps in, realising what JJ’s getting at, “that’s just it — they haven’t. A cell as large as this one and multiple targets to choose from, they target a single SUV?”

“It’s a diversion,” JJ says, “Everything that’s happened so far has appeared to be something it’s not. The seemingly random acts of violence, Emily’s suicide by cop to make us believe it’s all over. Hotch and Kate as an endgame; they want us to think this is over. They’ve deliberately skewed our profile to make us believe they would be at the sites of the shooting.”

“You’re right. That was memorable” Rossi says, finally chiming in as he gestures to a picture of the twin towers on the wall. “This is not. There’s something else.”

⭐️

As soon as Derek manages to calm Hotch down, he summons the rest of the team to St Barclay’s and for the first time since the bomb went off under Kate’s SUV, the team is back together again.

“Are you okay?” Emily asks Hotch as soon as the team walks into the hospital. He’s scratched and bruised all over, visibly shaken, and clearly in a lot of pain but, Hotch being Hotch, he’s stubbornly refusing to accept the necessary medical attention and probably just wants to see the back of this whole ordeal, not unlike the rest of them.

“I’m fine,” he says, clearly not fine at all but shouldering his jacket on anyway. “I just want to understand why I’m still alive. Did you identify Sam, the bomber?”

“Spencer put Sam and the other dead unsub into every known database,” Penelope offers. “Nothing.” At the mention of Spencer, Derek feels his heart clench in his chest. God, Spencer’s intelligence is so attractive to him, even though he knows it’s something his pretty boy can be so unreasonably insecure about it. He can’t wait to see the end of this night and touch him, reassure his aching, restless heart that he’s safe, alive, protected.

Once again, he thinks cynically, nothing like a terrorist attack to leave him on the brink of finally telling Spencer how he feels.

They quickly get back on topic, deducing as a team the terror cell’s real endgame: they’ll use a single chemical bomb planted in the ambulance. If Sam wasn’t calling 911 every few minutes but a number that went dead minutes after he died, then there’s only one reason he stayed with Hotch and Kate. To make sure the ambulance got to them. The ambulance they drove into a hospital, with the paramedic’s help, housing someone important enough to have the Secret Service protecting them.

Derek doesn’t think. He runs.

“Spencer?” he says, into his ear piece as he runs down the stairs, refusing to let fear come to the surface. “I need you to jam the frequencies in this cell block for as long as possible, okay?”

“What’s going on?” Spencer asks, clearly concerned, but Derek can hear him already tapping away at his computer.

“Just,” Derek pauses, takes a second to feel, process, and then suppress his panic, “just… I need you to do this for me, alright, pretty boy.”

“I’m already on it.” Spencer sounds exactly he does: carefully, artificially calm. He runs down the last few flights of stairs and into the parking garage, locating the ambulance before he hears Spencer again. “Morgan?”

“Yeah, baby,” he says, panting half from the exertion of sprinting down far too many flights of stairs and partly from the pressure of the situation settling on his chest — the stakes actually registering for the first time.

“You sound stressed,” Spencer says, deliberate and light. “Where are you?”

“Not where I want to be right now,” Derek replies, a little self-deprecatingly. Really, it’s just deflection; a last ditch attempt at avoidance of the likelihood he dies tonight. “Reid, take this down for me: FDNY 108.”

“That’s an ambulance, are you okay?” His voice is quick and rises ever so slightly in pitch.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just track it for me.” Tentatively, he opens the door to the ambulance, heart sinking and blood pressure rising as soon as he clocks the monumental bomb stowed neatly in the trunk of the seat. “Reid, how long can you keep jamming the cell block?” He knows he’s sounding breathless now and he knows Spencer is probably panicking, unable to know what’s going on but clearly reading enough of the situation to understand that asking would be decidedly unhelpful right now.

“Uh, maximum of a few minutes, Morgan,” Spencer replies. “Why?”

“I’m going to have to get this ambulance out of here.” This is it. The culmination.

“Or you could just evacuate the building like everyone else,” Spencer says urgently, sounding outraged at the idea.

Derek cringes at the disapproval, but he doesn't have a choice. “No, as soon as the airwaves are clear, this thing’s going up.”

“Going up?” Spencer doesn’t bother concealing the outright panic in his voice anymore. “That’s like… in three minutes, that’s when the satellite moves position.”

“Reid, listen to me,” Derek says, climbing into the cab of the ambulance and beginning to fiddle with the wiring. “I need you to find me an area of town I can drive this thing, and you tell everybody, you hear me, everybody that I’m coming.” He finally gets the engine to start and begins to drive out of the garage. “Alright. Talk to me, Reid.” He prays desperately that they get this right, that Spencer helps him, that they manage to subvert this terrorist attack.

“Okay,” Spencer says, back to his measured, calm tone of voice, and Derek sighs in relief at the sound. “Okay, head north… and floor it. I’ll tell you where to turn.” He’s almost out of the garage when the ‘paramedic’ starts shooting at the back of the ambulance, screaming in rage as Derek manages to escape both van and bomb unscathed. “What was that?”

“It was nothing,” Derek shouts, heart pounding in his ears as he turns the sirens and lights on, stepping on the gas as he heads north, “it was nothing. Just… talk to me. How am I doing, Reid?”

Derek hears Spencer ask Lisa for an update before exhaling hard. “1 minute, 50 seconds,” he replies, despair spilling into his voice. “Why does it always have to be you? Why do you always have to do this?” His stomach clenches at the sound of Spencer on the edge of tears and feels himself tearing up in response, swallowing his grief in lieu of actually replying. “Derek, you don’t have much time. Please be smart about this. Signal’s coming back on line, there’s thirty seconds until full coverage.”

Derek’s never driven so fast, his hands pinching at the steering wheel and every muscle tensed. He tries very hard not to think about the fact that there’s a bomb only a metre behind him, set to explode in less than half a minute.

“Derek, drive to the opening and then get the hell out,” Spencer says, no constraint to his emotion at this point, he’s almost shouting down the phone, very clearly crying, now.

He swallows. He has no choice; he has to tell him. “Spencer,” he says, nearly choked off by a sob, “there’s something I really want you to know.”

“Save it,” Spencer shouts. “Just get out!”

“No, you know what Reid? If I don’t make it out of this alive, I need you to know that I love you, alright?” he says, finally confessing to the secret he’s been holding close to his chest for so long, but as soon as the words are out of his mouth, he’s throwing himself out of the ambulance and running as fast as he can away from it, still not outrunning the blast picking him up and tossing him across the field.

Slowly, getting back to his feet, he turns to face the fire as he catches his breath. He has no idea how he’s still alive.

Fiddling with his earpiece, he tunes back into Spencer’s line to hear him crying on the other end. “Oh, God, Derek, I love you, too,” he sobs as soon as he hears Derek click back into the call.

“Spencer, I’ll tell you what you are to me,” he says, relief and warmth and love blooming across his chest, driving out the crippling fear and panic previously rooted there, “you’re my God-given solace. Baby, you promise me one thing… whatever happens, don’t you ever stop talking to me.”

Spencer laughs wetly, and it’s the most beautiful sound Derek’s heard so far. “I’m so mad at you, right now,” he says, but his happiness is written across every word, “I’m so angry. But… I love you, too.”

Derek laughs, too, the relief of being both alive and loved by Spencer almost euphoric as he walks away from the still blazing ambulance. He guesses he has a terror cell’s failed attack to thank for his long overdue admittance of his love for Dr Spencer Reid, and the frankly wonderful news that it’s actually reciprocated.

⭐️

Derek and Hotch arrive back at Quantico 12 hours after everyone else, having driven home instead of taking the jet with the others due to Hotch’s rather inconvenient ear trauma. That only gives Spencer more time to panic over seeing him for the first time since their deathbed love confessions; they’d spoken briefly on the phone the morning before Derek and Hotch set off, promising to talk about it in person as soon as he was home, and now he nearly was.

Penelope had made a beeline for Spencer as soon as the others had arrived and taken him out for coffee, despite their mutual exhaustion. She’d deduced the situation based on Spencer’s incredibly cryptic HELP. IT HAPPENED. text message almost immediately after the explosion, having been the only one Spencer had confided in about his feelings for Derek. No matter how much she promised him Derek felt the same, he refused to do anything about it, leaving her to watch her two favourite people pine miserably for one another, and actively choosing to remain in said misery instead of confessing and being happy.

He now actually felt bad for her.

“Just tell him what you want,” Penelope says over the top of her latte, croissant crumbs littering the table in between them. “You want to get married and have lots of babies with him.”

“Okay, first of all,” Spencer says, fixing her with a look, “you know that neither of those things are true. And, secondly, it’s not that simple. What if he isn’t looking for a relationship or anything? Why hasn’t he said something before now?”

To her credit, Penelope avoids slamming her head into the table in frustration despite how much he looks like she wants to. “Spencer,” Penelope says, levelling a look right back at him, “Derek thought he was about to die. And in that moment, all he felt like he needed was to be sure that you knew he loves you. How could you possibly be that in love with someone and not crave a relationship with them?”

Spencer finds it hard to argue against that.

Derek reclines on Spencer’s sofa, comfortably surveying the organised chaos of his living room, while Spencer tries to gather the snacks and drinks as calmly as possible in the kitchen, finding it much harder to assume the seemingly unaffected air Derek pulls off so easily. He walks back to where he’s sitting, and he almost drops his only slightly wobbly tray at the blinding smile Derek sends his way.

“Oh, pretty boy, you’re spoiling me,” he teases, sitting upright and leaning forward to survey the snacks Spencer had rushed out and bought earlier that afternoon. Naturally, he blushes immediately at the compliment and sits next to him on the sofa, grabbing a drink for something to do with his hands.

“Well, if all it takes is some cheese puffs from Walmart to make you happy then I think this is going to be alright,” Spencer says, trying for cool, calm, and collected and hitting somewhere near nervous and frenzied instead.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Derek scoffs as he breaks off a piece of chocolate and takes a bite. “I’m here for you, not the refreshments, luxurious as they might be. I don’t remember confessing my love to snack food in the moment I thought I was going to die.” He ruffles Spencer’s hair as his face heats up even more, smiling bashfully over at him.

“No,” Spencer agrees, feeling all warm inside, “you told me.”

Derek looks serious all of a sudden. “I did,” he nods, leaning forward to put the chocolate down on the tray so he can focus all his attention on Spencer, taking his hands in his own, “and I meant it. I’ve probably been in love with you since you joined the team, Spencer, but I realised it properly last year, and I was always too scared to say anything. I’m sorry it had to be in that moment, and I’m even more sorry that if I’d died you would have had to live with that for the rest of your life.” He pauses and looks down at his lap for a moment. “That was unforgivable.”

Spencer smiles at him, gripping Derek’s fingers a little tighter. “I’m not mad about any of that, Derek,” he says, “I’m just glad it finally happened. And so is Penelope, apparently. She’s been telling me you loved me back for years but I never believed her; I didn’t think this would ever happen.”

Derek chuckles fondly at that and brings his hand to Spencer’s cheek, brushing his fingers across the warm skin for just a moment, but Spencer can’t help but lean into his touch, eyelids fluttering half-closed as they meet in such an intimate manner. “So, pretty boy,” he says, smile warm and eyes bright, “shall we give this a go?”

Spencer looks back up at Derek and takes a second to let the moment he’d daydreamed about for so long sink in, let himself marinate in the love that Derek has for him. “Yes,” he replies. “Please.” And then Derek’s lips are on his own, his hands around his face, and the future’s never looked so bright.

taglist: @strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez @drinkingcroissants

Just a note: a lot of the dialogue was stolen directly from the episode and Derek & Spencer's conversation on the phone is almost an exact transcript; it's from my notes though so it may not be perfect. It also follows the case very closely and none of that is mine.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds writing #moreid #moreid fic #derek morgan #spencer reid #derek morgan/spencer reid #moreid angst #moreid fluff #moreid au #criminal minds au #moreid writing #derek morgan x spencer reid #my writing

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cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

Headcanon - When you apply face masks with him

This work, 当你们一起敷面膜, was originally written by 君兮耶君兮 on Weibo, and she has given me permission to translate it 🌸

Lucien’s portion is slightly suggestive, so I’ll leave it at the back so it’s easier to skip!

[ VICTOR ]

“Victor, come over here and apply face masks with me~”

While facing the mirror and smoothening the mask on your face, you call Victor over once he steps out of the bathroom, towelling his hair dry.

Tossing the towel onto the chaise lounge in front of the bed, he walks over with a look of distaste, watching as you busily rub excess cream onto your arms. “I don’t think you’re clear-headed.”

Patting your arms, you draw a sharp intake of breath. “You really don’t want it? When you were shaving this morning, I saw your crow’s feet~ Sure you don’t want to try this mask which lightens wrinkles?”

“...” Victor touches the corners of his eyes, staring at the masks on your dressing table wordlessly.

You strike while the iron is hot. “Let’s see. We have a six year age difference, so when the splendour of your youth has faded, I’d still be as lovely as a flower. Are you sure you don’t need to maintain your complexion?”

“...help me with it.” He finally caves in, lying down on the bed obediently, closing his eyes.

Excited, you rip open the packaging, carefully covering Victor’s well-sculpted, typically taciturn face with a mask.

Once you’re done, you lie down next to him, lifting your phone up high to take a selfie of the both of you. After a moment of hesitation, you still lack the guts to post it. You give him a poke. “Victor, I was lying to you earlier. You don’t have any wrinkles at all.”

“Dummy.” His hand encircles your waist, locking you in his arms. “I’ll cooperate with your nonsense for now. There won’t be a next time.”

[ GAVIN ]

Gavin spoils you so much that it’s as though he’d allow you to defy laws both human and divine. Whether it’s tying tiny buns on his head, applying make-up, or having to play along with a drama queen like you, he has never refused. Even if he were unwilling, a slight furrow of your brow would leave him agreeing faster than anybody else.

“Gavin, come over to apply a mask~” You beckon him over while he’s watching television on the bed.

He walks over, touching his face. “I don’t need it. It’d be a waste of your mask.”

“How is it considered a waste?!” You stand up, tugging him over to your seat. Then, you give his cheeks a poke. “The weather has been pretty dry these days. You need to keep your skin moisturised, or you’ll be disappointing this handsome face.”

“Is my face handsome?” The corners of Gavin’s lips hook into a smile, his amber eyes brightening slightly.

“Of course - you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen!” You cup his face in your hands in an exaggerated manner, giving him a peck on his lips.

You aren’t sure which line pleased him, but his smile becomes even more evident, his typically stern expression melting into a gentle one.

“Go on.” He points at the masks in the box on the dressing table, closing his eyes and leaving himself entirely to you.

“Good. Your gold-medal skincare expert is very happy to be at your service~”

[ KIRO ]

“Ro Ro, I don’t think this mask is as effective as the previous ones I bought.” You bring a mask, freshly removed from the packet, over to Kiro.

Hearing this, he leans his phone against the vanity mirror. The screen is still on, but you don’t put much thought into it since it just displays the table.

“Really? In that case, don’t use this one. I recently bought a few boxes of SK-II ‘ex-boyfriend’ masks. I’ll let you use them first?” Kiro retrieves new masks from the drawer of the dressing table, ripping one open for you.

Just as you reach out to take it, Kiro retracts his hand. “Miss Chips, want me to help you put it on? You could help with mine later.”

“Sure.” You sit on the make-up stool obediently, tilting your head upwards, and allowing Kiro to smoothen the icy cold mask onto your face.

“Done~ It’s Miss Chip’s turn~”

You stand up, retrieving another mask from the box, and meticulously help him apply the mask onto his face.

“Miss Chips, how does it feel?” Kiro suddenly asks.

“I guess it’s pretty cooling?” Failing to grasp the meaning of his words, you respond intuitively.

“Tch~” Kiro chuckles. “Of course the mask is cooling. The fans want to know about the effects of the mask.” He holds up the phone, giving it a few taps, entering the live space where the comments section is being flooded.

“You were doing a live broadcast?” Your eyes widen in disbelief, wanting to shift outside of the camera’s view.

“You’re not allowed to run. I promised to let the fans see a sweet day-in-the-life of me and Miss Chips. How could that happen without the female protagonist?”

[ SHAW ]

Ever since your failed attempt to make Shaw wear female clothes, you’ve tried everything possible to lure him into a trap. This included applying make-up on him over the past few days, and applying masks right now.

“Shaw, want to try a mask?” You grip the silver coloured packaging of the mask in your hand, looking at him expectantly, The meaning in your eyes is as as obvious as ever.

“Don’t want to.” He rejects you quickly.

“Really?” You refuse to give up, asking once more.

He waves his hand, as though he’s chasing away a fly. “When I say ‘no’, it means ‘no’. You didn’t hear me?”

“...” You clench your fists, feeling a slight urge to give him a beating. “If you apply this mask with me, I’ll promise you an entire week’s worth of mixed cola.” You toss out this bribe, certain that he’d be reeled in.

As expected, Shaw wavers, his eyebrows furrowing. “The mask is fine. But no photos.”

He knows you pretty well.

“I won’t.” You raise your right hand, making a vow with three fingers and a solemn expression.

“...” He frowns. “Okay.”

You celebrate internally, ripping the packaging and pasting the mask onto his face. Once you’re done, you beckon him to look into the mirror.

“Your skills aren’t bad.” Shaw peers at himself from side to side, the mask fitting perfectly on his face, without a single wrinkle.

You pat your chest with pride. “Of course, I’m adept in my skills~”

Seeing that you really didn’t take a photograph, he relaxes, sitting on the sofa and watching television.

Retrieving your phone, you tap on a button to stop the recording. Then, you take a random screenshot of the video - it happens to be one where he’s checking himself out in the mirror. You happily tag on a caption: “Am I pretty?”

Saved. And sent.

Shaw’s phone vibrates, and he picks it up. “You!!!”

[ LUCIEN ] - Slightly suggestive!

You’ve always felt that Lucien wasn’t just a genius neurologist. If he were in the business industry, he’d definitely be an excellent businessman. After all, you’ve experienced for yourself how in certain aspects, Lucien would never let himself be taken advantaged of.

Usually, Lucien would ask for a benefit from you when you seek his help for even trivial matters. Often, it’d be a request which leaves you with a flushed face and a rapid heartbeat. You never know whether to laugh or cry.

Glancing at Professor Lucien as he leans against the headboard, then returning your gaze to the final mask in the box, you’re struck with an idea. “Lucien, come here. Let me apply a mask for you~”

Lucien rests the book on his torso, lifting in head to look at you in confusion. “Apply a mask?”

“That’s right! It’d make your skin more elastic, giving it a youthful and moisturising luster, and making it look even more tempting~” You mimic the tone of voice used in television advertisements, spelling out the benefits of the mask in an exaggerated manner.

“Making it look even more tempting?” Lucien repeats what you’ve just said, supporting his chin with his hand. “If it can make my wife more interested in me, I’ll be very willing to try it.”

Hearing this, your enthusiasm heightens. “Lie down properly, and I’ll put it on for you~”

“You should let me finish. Cooperating with you comes with a condition.” Lucien places the book atop the bedside cabinet.

“What condition?”

He removes his spectacles. “Tonight, we’ll do it one more time?”

–

More translated and original works: here

[ Permission to translate ]

君兮耶君兮: You can - just note the author

#mlqc #cheri shortcake

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gwaciechang · 3 years

Text

I Don't Wanna Go Home (1/15?)

So, this is probably going to be my most ambitious project ever. I'm going to do a fusion of the video gave Subnautica Below Zero, with the characters from Cloverfield Paradox. You don't have to have played Below Zero first, although it would certainly help. Also, as someone who has played the game, I tried my best to explain everything, which is why the first few chapters are going to be really slow, and why everyone talks so much. I also made a change to the canon of the first Subnautica: instead of Riley curing Kharaa, it was the precursors.

So, a few more things before we start this chapter. I hate "y/n l/n" stuff, so I just call the pov character Ling Tam. I don't think anybody actually uses that name in the story, but that might change, and in any case, you're free to replace her name with any name you like. Also, reader is in a relationship with Mundy at the start of the story, although that, obviously, won't last because it's endgame reader/Schmidt. Okay, that's everything, enjoy, and let me know if you want to be tagged.

@hope-to-hell @vicanth @feralrunaway @october505 @potentialproblem01

"Hey, Monk, you told me to come get you if that weird signal showed up ag-" you stop when you see the vehicle technician on the radio.

"When are you going to send me some more art? There's still a patch of bare wall here that could use some color and a touch of genius!" Monk says, probably to his kids, as he waves you away. You close the door as silently as you can, and not a second too soon, because Mundy opens the habitat door and stomps his way inside with a box. Behind him, you can see the prawn suit, with several other boxes still tied to its massive arms. There's an inquisitive face popping out of the water that you decide not to tell him about. Why shouldn't the creatures have a little fun?

"Another day, another slight by the winged furies," Mundy grumbles.

"Another interference alert?" you ask, trying to lay the sympathy on thick before you inevitably burst into laughter.

"As usual," the xenobiologist sighs theatrically. "Also as usual, I went out to see what the problem was. And, of course, it was-"

"Frozen stalagmites of feathered bird excrement," the two of you say together.

"I fear the career impact of saying this officially-"

"If you can even call what you have a career," you interrupt, getting yourself a faceful of dirty towel.

Besides throwing the thing you're really hoping he hadn't just used to wipe up bird shit in your face, your boyfriend continues as if you'd never spoken. "I could swear they're targeting me personally. The week I was out with a flu, I came back to find the tower spotless. Monk laughed at me when I asked him how he'd cleaned it. Silly me!"

"As if Monk would ever clean anything," you agree. "What are you going to do?"

"There's nothing left for me to try but quitting. But I know that's what the birds want me to do," he shakes his fist at the sky as he walks back outside to retrieve the final box.

You turn back to the screen and wonder about the signal again. It's been appearing on and off for days, ever since you got the radio tower up and running, and what would a repeat call be besides a distress signal?

"Ah jeez, these sea monkeys are going to get me in trouble," the box in Mundy's hands is scratched through in places. "This is the third shipment that those buggers have gotten their weird little hands into! Now we're running low on flares and I'm going to have to search nearby nests for stolen cargo," he sighs as he drops a mangled box on the top of his cluttered workstation. It makes a bang that would have disturbed Monk, if he weren't on the radio, or Schmidt, if he were a normal person who came back from work at normal hours. As it is, there's just you to look at him, a welcome break from potential distress signals and what they might mean.

"Just put some of your drawings on the tower, they'll be too scared to go near it!"

"Ha ha," Mundy says sarcastically, before going outside to park the prawn-

"Oh, for fuck's sake! It’s fucking gone!"

You and Monk, still on the radio, step outside, but sure enough, the prawn suit has disappeared without a trace, as far as you can tell.

"I'm still trying, quietly--I don't want any more trouble--to figure out where I went wrong. I was sure Tam had picked up a distress signal!" Monk bends down to peer at the tracks. "I was right on top of it. And then it just," he gets to the edge of the glacier, stands up, and shakes his head, "it just stopped. What if one of the precursors is still down there? And how could a hivemind alien race so advanced that they singlehandedly ended a galaxy wide pandemic leave someone behind? I'll probably be home before I ever get to find out, and it will fall to some future researcher to come and find out, I guess, I hope," he waves the two of you back into the habitat and closes the door. "But that means I'll get to be with you little rascals." His voice fades and disappears.

"So, game tonight?" you ask, hoping to erase the distress off Mundy’s face.

"That'd be nice," he says with a weak smile, just before Jensen slams her door open.

"Mundy, inside!" barks the overseer of operations.

Mundy sighs and drags his feet as he walks into Jensen's office. No sooner has she closed the door with a snap than you and Monk have your heads pressed against the door.

"Mundy, I'm not blaming you, but what do you mean, 'it's gone?' Where did it go? You had trouble retrieving the drop pod and decided to jettison the prawn suit?"

"I didn't jettison the prawn suit! I left it outside to put the supply drop away, went back for it, and it was just gone! Someone must have stolen it."

"Who? Who else do you think is on this planet besides the five of us?"

"It could be a creature ate it. I didn't lose it, that's for sure. I'm careful with my vehicles!"

You can practically hear Jensen’s eyeroll as she continues, "I'm sure you are, but you have to admit, there have been a lot of 'accidents' involving our very expensive vehicles."

"You want to follow me on a few runs tomorrow? See what it's like? Conditions are way harsher than anything I ever imagined. You can't really understand it from inside your office!"

Monk winces, and you know there's a matching pained expression on your face. Talking back to Jensen is a terrible idea, but Mundy's sealed his fate, and now all that's left is to wait for the other shoe to drop.

"That won't be necessary," Jensen says with syrupy calm. "Thank you for your time. I'll write it up as an accident."

"Thank you, ma'am," Mundy's voice is shaky. Jensen doesn't respond, so the vehicle technician’s deliberately loud footsteps approach the door, prompting you and the precursor researcher you're spying with to run like your asses are on fire back to your stations.

"I think it'd be best if Researcher Tam takes over your duties with the leviathan tomorrow," Jensen says, loudly enough for you to hear, even through the door.

Now it's your turn to wince. Mundy gives you a small smile as he walks past, and then Jensen's in your line of sight, hands on her hips.

"I believe I told you to go somewhere."

"Yes, ma'am," you drop everything to put your thermal suit on, and pour a final cup of sweet, sweet dirty bean water in your thermos. There's no cappuccino machine allowed in the cave, lest it somehow thaw out the entire frozen leviathan Mundy, and now you, are studying. Or maybe it was just Schmidt being anal about his robots, you wouldn't put it past the guy whose lips are basically permanently attached to Jensen's ass.

On the bright side, they're also attached to a guy who knows what he's doing, and is thorough in explaining what Mundy does when he's here. Still, it's barely five minutes in when the silence gets to you.

"I love and hate exploring these tunnels," you start to babble, not expecting Schmidt to respond. "Yeah, they're marvels to the power of the ice worms. I mean, the amount of ice they are able to cut through in seconds, it would take us at least a couple days. Their tunneling mechanism is ruthlessly efficient. Alterra could only dream of having this sort of mining capability, and yeah, the ice worms uncover mineral rich pockets as they tunnel. But going beneath the surface is so risky, I mean, we've lost so many already, and I don't understand why we have to stay in this particular area of the glacier. I can't wait to get off this hellhole, or ice hole? Whatever."

You can hardly believe it, but you hear a clear snort coming from Schmidt’s workstation. You fill your flasks with a wide smile on your face, which doesn’t fade even when you make your way back across the tunnel to see his with its usual pinched, sour expression.

"Hey, do you want some coffee?" you wave the thermos at him. "It might help you get the taste of Alterra boot leather out of your mouth," you say in a singsong voice.

"How much sugar and cream is in that?" Schmidt wrinkles his nose. "No thank you."

You decide to let that roll off your back and chuckle a little. "I guess my proclivities toward having coffee with my sugar is well known, huh? Just like how I should know better than to invite you to game night with me and the other researchers, again?"

Is snow blindness affecting your vision, or did Schmidt just smile?

"You should know better," he says in a soft voice, and then he takes out another set of small, sterile flasks, and hands them to you. "Get some samples from the skull, too, use the elevator."

"Thanks!" you grab the flasks, only to drop them the second you put your hand on the elevator lift button, because that's a fucking rotten peeper hanging off the edge.

Schmidt snaps his gloves off and cleans it up, which is nice of him, even if the things he says while he does it aren’t very nice. "Mundy," he practically spits, "always leaving food around. At least the nutrient blocks and the filtered water don't spoil."

"Well, the man likes to munch on things," you try to lighten the mood. "Are you telling me you don’t leave snacks around your workstation?" Schmidt opens his mouth, but you interrupt. "Don't tell me, you have a timer telling you when to go to the fabricator to make food and eat?"

He closes his mouth and turns a little red.

Holy shit, you were right? That's the saddest thing you've ever heard. "Okay, you know what, you are definitely playing Alien Intruders with us tonight, because I'm going to cook. Real food, too, none of that fabricated stuff."

"Oh, I am?" Schmidt raises an eyebrow.

"Yep! And I'm going to make my favorite dish, just for you, you'll love it! Roasted Chinese potato with shredded marblemelon and salt."

That was definitely a snort, maybe even a laugh, and it carries you through the rest of the day.

#ernst schmidt x reader

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wormstacheangel · 4 years

Text

Day 27: Banquet

Word Count: 973

Summary: A hunter banquet cause why not! Dean being an adorable husband. Catch up on my suptober fics HERE.

---

The family all walked in together, even Eileen who brought Sam in her car because it was a long drive and no point in all of them being piled into the Impala. No matter how small Eileen is she didn’t want to sit in the middle.

Though only a couple minutes in and the brothers were being pulled to one direction to the other. Eileen looked comfortable enough surrounded by a bunch of strangers, hunters but still strangers. She was the only real likeable one from the bunch of them. Not including his kid but even he gets strange looks from people because he’s… well he’s a strange weird little 5 year old.

When they got the invitation for this hunter banquet, a dumb idea if anybody asked him, Dean thought they would just ignore it the way they always did. Then Eileen said she wanted to go and in a flip of the switch Sam quickly joined her side as if it was his goddamn dream to go to this damn event.

Then before Dean can open his mouth to make fun of him for being a whipped boyfriend, Cas spoke over his coffee mug. “Sounds like it’ll be fun. We should go, Dean.”

Dean leaned over and pressed a kiss on his husband’s cheek. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

Cas hummed in content while Sam made the damn whipping noise.

Now they were seperated somewhere in an old hotel that had a pretty big banquet hall, it was all ugly and brown but still pretty big. Didn’t give him the chills at all. Though the thing he found really strange was the fact that people kept trying to get to know him.

Yeah. He knows that they were these awesome legends in the hunting community, even the monster community tells stories about them, but it was still strange to hear someone talk about their lives to ask if anything was real or fake. Though nobody really asked about any of the big bads they took down, not even Chuck was mentioned. No, what people were more interested in was his personal life.

“So I heard you're married now.” One hunter, his name is Liam or Lennard, slapped Dean hard on the shoulder to grab his attention. “And that you’re retiring? Wow.”

Dean nods as pushes Liam, he’ll just go with Liam, hand off him as he tries to smile politely at him. “Yeah, both kinds of recent things.”

“So Mrs. making you quit this life.”

“Um, something like that. More like a mutual decision.” Dean addresses Vanessa and Oliver who he was just talking about their most grimiest vamp cases. Then turns back to Liam. “We got the big boss. The younger ones can deal with the vamps and ghouls.”

Vaness and Oliver raised their beer for him in agreement.

Then Liam scooted in way too close to Dean’s personal bubble. “So did you bring your family?”

“Yeah, they’re somewhere around here.” Dean looked around to see Cas laughing with some people close by so he called him over. Cas meets his eyes and his smile grows as he excuses himself before walking over to him.

“I have been looking for you. Some people wanted to see the trunk of Baby so I need the keys.” Cas was already patting Dean’s pockets as he talked. Dean then grabbed Cas’s shoulders and turned him around so he could face the people Dean was talking too. “Oh, yes. Hello.”

“This is Cas.” Dean introduces him with an exasperated sigh that got Cas to step on his foot.

“Nice to meet you. Sorry, for being rude. I’m very forgetful about my surroundings at times.”

“Cas? Hmm,” Liam held his hand out to shake Cas’s hand. “Never heard your name around the hunter circles.”

“Ah, yes.” Cas nodded as he took his hand back. Dean didn’t miss when Cas whipped it on Dean’s shirt. Cause of course he did. “I heard people tend to know me by my full name. Castiel. My name is Castiel. My family calls me Cas.”

An audicable, “Oh!” coursed through the group as eyes widened and maybe there was a sense of pride rushing through Dean. His husband is also becoming a legend among the hunting community.

“The angel?” Vanessa asked a smirk of a smile on her face.

Cas shrugged. “Formal but yes.”

That led to a bunch of questions from Vanessa and Oliver. A crowd even started to gather around them and Dean just stood back to let his huband get all the attention, a warm bubble at the pit of his stomach growing as he watched with a stupid arrogant smile on his lips. Even letting his matching wedding band show a little more as if to say, ‘Yeah, he’s mine.’ Cas even wrapped an arm around Dean’s wasit to hold him close as he talked about how he chose humanity over heaven.

“Was it worth it? Falling?” Someone asked and Dean froze when the question was asked. He always wondered and whenever he asked Cas only responded with a simple yes. Can his answer differ now that a stranger asked him?

“Of course. To be called Castiel Winchester has been my biggest accomplishment.” Cas didn’t even hesitate to answer or even to reach to press a kiss on Dean’s cheek.

Liam’s expression was priceless when the Mrs. turned out to be another Mr.

“Everyone settle down! Time to get a seat and let’s get ready to eat!” They heard someone call and a loud cheer swept the room.

“I still don’t trust this place.” Dean muttered into Cas’s hair. “Where’s our kid?”

“Here!” Jack walked over to them with a sneaky grin. “I checked the place out. No monsters but Eileen says you’re not gonna like dessert.”

“What? Why?”

“It��s carrot cake.”

“Fuck that! Cas, let’s go.”

Tag List: @galaxycastiel :)

#suptober20 #Destiel #deancas #spn #supernatural #My writing #destiel fanfic

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salmonmakiii · 3 years

Text

Hello!~ I love your time stamp series!

I’d like to request a timestamp as well!

18:37 with Oikawa as a husband, with angst to fluff please!

Thank you so much <3

Of course!!! You submitted this one so I’ll tag you just in case you don’t see it. If you want me to remove the tag, please tell me!! and also my deepest apologies this took too long :”

[18:37]

About : Oikawa x gn reader Note : This is my first writing after a while, hope I still got it T_T, angst, fluff

The number you are calling is unavailable, please try again later.

The brunette hissed at the voice he’d heard for the past thirty minutes. He blamed his big mouth for saying those words. If only his emotions didn’t get the best of him, he wouldn’t be out here searching frantically for you. Nonetheless, he tried calling you and continued to jog around the neighborhood.

Oikawa had his wins and losses before and he handled them quite well. He was a grown-up, wise enough to accept his losses and not to be too cocky or childish whenever he wins. But something about this season’s loss seems to get to him. You were there, watching him when the other team scored a point that leads to their victory. His opponent was a rookie in the season, and your husband’s team didn’t have much information about them. Both of the team was equal in terms of teamwork and power. Although, you watched your husband long enough to know that the opponent’s setter is still inferior to him, and you’re sure that his team knows it too.

After the game, you decided to meet your husband outside of their locker room. You cheered him on asking about how awesome he was and how intense that game was. He could only give you a small smile and rest his hand on your head, giving it a little tap. You knew from then on that he wasn’t okay. And for the past week, your suspicions were right.

Ever since then, he’d been caging up himself in the gym and in his private court. He’d leave first thing in the morning and would come back late at night. He was too tired to even reach your shared bedroom and most likely would end up on the couch. This wasn’t the first time your husband acted like this, but this was by far the worst.

As days passed, it felt like you were living alone. The usual mornings where you would wake up to him beside you and how you would stay longer in bed together now were replaced by the cold and empty bedside every time you awake. No more loving kisses and cuddles to start the day, no more having breakfast together. Even at night, he didn’t whisper sweet nothings to you like he always did. You missed him.

It may sound selfish but he is your husband.

Yesterday, you made the decision to confront him about this. You stayed up till late at night, your eyes heavy and the gravity beneath your feet seemed heavier, especially after a tiring day from work. The sudden sound of the front door opening caused you to sit up straight from your place on the couch. You blinked your eyes awake, giving them a little rub, and turned your attention towards the door. There you saw your husband, tripping over his feet from trying to take his shoes off. You stared at him, seeing that he hasn’t noticed your presence. He walked to the couch, scratching his head, still not noticing you.

“Tooru.” You called out to him firmly. At the sound of his name, he lifted his head, eyes a little wide and confused.

“You’re still awake? Why aren’t you asleep yet?” He asked, dropping his weight onto the couch, causing you to jump a little. He laid his head down on the couch, sighing loudly.

“I was waiting for you. Also, the bed has been… too cold for my liking.” You glanced at your husband who seemed to pay no mind as he closes his eyes and covered it with his arm. The room went quiet and you could feel the irritation clawing at your back. You understood his situation well, but come on! At this point, he was being childish.

“Tooru, we need to talk,” Seeing that he didn’t respond but know that he’s listening, you continued.

“You need to relax, Toru. You’re overworking yourself.” You sighed, putting a gentle hand on his head.

“Our team lost to a rookie. I felt it. I felt like something wasn’t right with me that day.”

“Tooru, it’s not your fault. In volleyball, you work as a team-“

“So it’s MY team’s fault for losing?” He asked. You pulled your hand away and stared at him.

“You know that’s not what I meant,”

“Oh, then I’m sure you’re just complaining because I’m not spending enough time with you, right?” He suddenly snapped. You continued to look at your husband, the words stuck in your throat.

“Iwaizumi already nagged to me about this. I don’t need you reminding me. Just leave me alone and give me time.” He huffed, covering his eyes with his arms once more. You were baffled and hurt. Holding in your tears you made your way towards your shared bedroom, leaving your husband alone.

The next morning, Oikawa set off early as usual. But he didn’t see you wandering about the kitchen or the living room like the days before. He went over to the bedroom and saw no sign of you. He thought it was because you had to go early to work so he shrugs it off. But ever since he step foot outside of his house. He had an uneasy feeling in his chest. Maybe he was too harsh to you. Maybe he was being too selfish.

He went early today because of that unsettling feeling gnawing at his back. Because of it, he couldn’t focus much on his practice. He tried texting you or calling you in between sessions. But he got no reply whatsoever.

Must be really busy then…

He couldn’t explain the tightening on his chest with each step he walked towards his house. Once he opened the front door, the house seemed too empty for his liking. There was no sound whatsoever, no sign of anybody inside.

And here he is right now, still searching for you.

Oikawa stopped for a second, his feet aching. All those non-stop training are finally kicking in. He bent down and massaged his calves, trying to soothe the pain.

“Good job, Tooru. Your damn ego and big mouth just HAD to- ARGH DAMN IT!” He yelled at no one in particular. Those anxious voices in his head start to cloud him when a familiar voice washed it away.

“Tooru?”

Oikawa stood up straight looking at the figure in front of him. His anxiousness blown away the minute he saw you. You were still in your formal wear, although a bit disheveled, you were unharmed. Ignoring the aching in his feet, he jogged to you and engulfed you in a hug.

“Where have you been?! You didn’t answer my text or calls- I was worried!”

Your eyes widen at his outburst, putting a hand on the back of his head, you sighed and hugged him back.

“I’m sorry… I shouldn't have given you the silent treatment.” You whispered, caressing his hair.

“It’s okay, you have the right to act that way, but when I text about your wellbeing, please answer. I was so worried something might happen to you.” Oikawa pulled away and put a gentle hand and your cheek.

“I’m sorry for acting so mean to you.” His voice was almost a whisper and you can feel the pain in every word. You gave him a small smile as you placed a kiss on his head.

“I could never stay mad at you, Tooru.” You giggled in hopes to ease the tension.

“Good. Because once we’re home, I need you to do wonders with your hand – my calves are killing me.” Your husband leaned onto you.

“I’m convinced you won’t be able to live a day without me.” You teased, with his one hand around your shoulder, he pinched your cheek.

“Hey, I’ve been living just fine!”

“Barely…”

“You’re too mean, honey!”

---

Tag: @siriiel

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solange-lol · 4 years

Text

i already know it (i’ll probably blow it)

words: 1,725

read on ao3

—

Camp Half-Blood Thanksgiving was a new tradition, only started after the war with Gaea when demigod lives weren’t as threatened, (keyword being as.)

Even while it was safe for more demigods to go home, some still chose to stay at camp year-round, or, in the case of Nico, they didn’t have anywhere to go. Thanksgiving in the Underworld could be interesting, but to be honest, the son of Hades was sort of trying to avoid undead beings for a little while.

“Everybody gather around,” Malcolm Pace, head of the Athena cabin after Annabeth left, calls. The rest of the counselors swarmed him as he began to hand out food assignments.

They had decided the best method of going about this was letting the head counselors of every cabin take over one section with Chiron’s aid and supervision. They were just a group of teenagers after all, and what do teenagers know about making group meals for a bunch of campers?

Not much, as it became abundantly clear to Nico as he stands cluelessly in the kitchen of the Big House.

“Nico, you’re on dessert with Drew and Clovis,” Malcolm informs him, steering him in the direction of the two, who are already peeling apples (Drew was peeling apples, Clovis seemed to have given up after one in favor of a quick nap.)

They were also sitting right next to one Will Solace, who was busy peeling potatoes and laughing at whatever Drew just said.

He hesitantly joined the two, trying his best not to make direct eye contact with the son of Apollo. Ever since his three days in the infirmary after the war took place, Nico didn’t know where they were going to go.

The answer was nowhere, apparently, as Will has made no attempt to ask him out since then.

“Why don’t you ask him out, then?” Jason had asked him when he was packing up his stuff from the summer as Nico complained to him. He had found that Jason was the only person with who he actually felt comfortable discussing his more-or-less crush on Will ever since the incident with Cupid.

“Because how am I supposed to know he’s not just like this with everyone? He’s crazy protective like that with everyone; I’m just waiting for him to at least give me a sign that he likes me too.”

Jason had just rolled his eyes. “I think you both are crazy oblivious.”

Nico crossed his arms. “Just because you have a girlfriend doesn’t mean you're the love expert.”

“Then why did you come to me?”

(Said girlfriend later broke up with him, but it’s not like Nico had made any progress anyway, so who cares.)

How was Nico even supposed to know what he wanted with Will anyway? He’d never been in a relationship before, and none of his crushes ever stemmed past more than, well, a crush.

He wishes Annabeth were still here. When it came to crushes on oblivious guys, she was an expert. Nico still doesn’t know how she did it.

“Hey, di Angelo, are you gonna help us with dessert, or should we just watch you stare at Solace all day?” Drew asks, dumping the apple mixture (how did she make that so quickly?) into the pie crust.

When he snaps back, glancing up at her and trying to ignore both Will’s eyes on him and the heat rising in his neck, she just snorts at him. “Wanna get started melting marshmallows for Rice Krispie Treats?”

He nods, and she takes the bag the Clovis had just been using as a pillow out from under his head and hands it to him.

Nico glances at it. “What do I do with this?”

“Mix it with half a stick of butter and pop it in the microwave,” she tells him. Nico follows instinct after that from what little cooking knowledge he has from growing up with Bianca.

As he stands back at the microwave, he can’t help but watch Will, rattling off reasons why his body had subjected him to have a crush on another boy way out of his league. Tall, blonde, blue eyes, assertive, but also nice, could probably carry him, and dumb as rocks.

“Invested in the mashed potatoes?” Will asks, once again snapping Nico out of his train of thought. He holds up a mostly-peeled potato. “Am I up to your standards?”

Instinctively, he straightens his back, playing along. “My Italian mother would cry at that potato,” he informs Will. Behind him, the microwave beeps, signaling its end, but Nico ignores it.

Will just laughs, shaking his head, and Nico continues. “Lucky for you, I don’t have much of a memory from Italy, so it’ll pass.”

“Thank god, you had me worried.”

Before he can say something else, Drew interrupts. “Are you going to get out the marshmallows before they solidify?” she asks him, then holds out a spoonful of some dessert for Will to try.

Nico sighs, turning back to the microwave and opening the door. He can’t tell if he’s jealous, or just frustrated about his first interaction with Will in a while has been cut short. There was that whole thing with Drew, too. He didn’t know what was between the two of them, and frankly, he wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to know.

“Oh, and be careful, it’s hot!-” Drew warned last minute, but it was too late.

Nico grabs the bowl full-hands on, then immediately squeaks and drops the bowl on the floor with a clatter, the burn already settling into his hand.

Drew glances down at the buttery-marshmallow mess on the floor. “Couldn’t have even aimed for the counter?”

Meanwhile, Will stands up from potato duty, offering a hand out to Nico. “Alright, to the infirmary with you.”

He rolls his eyes, accepting it with his good hand and trying to ignore the way his other one feels like it’s burning off. Together, they exit the infirmary and make their way over to the infirmary next door.

Kayla is already set up for her shift, but as soon as she notices Will’s hand in Nico’s, she just nods them off to the back.

“I guess you don’t cook much?” Will asks once Nico is finally sat down.

“Never really had a reason to, I guess. Coach did all of the cooking when I was traveling with him and Reyna,” Nico explains as Will takes out some cream, tugging Nico’s hand forward so he can lay it on. He seems surprised when Nico barely flinches at it

“Usually Silvadene gets a scream out of campers,” he says, putting away the ointment and begins to wrap Nico’s hand.

“I think you're forgetting I got clawed by a werewolf” Nico reminds him, and Will shudders.

“Oh, no, I remember. Those were a nightmare to heal. Thank gods for nectar and ambrosia,” he says, then reaches behind him to a drawer, pulling out the godly food. “Speaking of which-”

He takes the small square, taking a bite out of the corner “Thanks.”

“What does it taste like for you?”

“Rice Krispie Treats.” Nico deadpans.

Will’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“No,” he snorts, and Will rolls his eyes, laughing lightly. Nico doesn’t know if it’s the sound or the ambrosia that makes his stomach warm.

Will stands up from his seat in front of the bed, putting away materials. He then reaches for Nico’s good hand again and pulls him up. “Well, anyway, you didn’t have to throw a bowl of marshmallow mix on the floor just to get my attention.”

Nico ignores his suddenly-flaming cheeks. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he tries to force out smoothly. His voice cracks a bit, and Will's lips twitch upwards. “I really did burn myself.”

“I know, but I could see you watching me.”

He swallows. “You could?” (He’s faced monsters, titans, gods, even Tartarus, but one cocky son of Apollo makes him suddenly lose all his chill?)

“Di Angelo, you are as obvious as I am oblivious. It took Drew telling me to notice, but once I did, I couldn’t stop,” he says, tugging Nico a little bit closer.

The son of Hades leans back a bit, trying to push away the skeletal butterflies in his stomach. “Are you two a thing? You seem awfully close.”

Will raises his eyebrows, and an amused smile on his lips as he pulls Nico even closer. The back of his legs are pressed against the bed, and with a good six inches on him, Will is towering over him.

“Well considering she’s gay and I’m into you, I would hope not,” he says quietly, wrapping one arm around Nico’s waist as he leans down.

“Oh.” Oh.

His face closes in towards Nico’s, so close that his heart is pounding as he waits for Will’s lips to reach his. (Nico could lean forward and speed up the process, but his entire body seems to be frozen in some emotion he can’t quite name yet.)

Just when their lips are inches apart, Will stops. “Can I kiss you?” he mumbles practically against them.

“Please,” Nico responds, and then there they are.

He’s never kissed anybody before. He doesn’t know if Will has, but he’s doing a bit better than Nico. It’s a little messy, and there are no fireworks like in the movies, but it’s with Will, and that’s all he can really ask for at any point.

Will’s hand tugs Nico’s waist closer to him as he tilts his head, and oh. He loses himself in the sensation as Will drops Nico’s hand, letting it move up Nico’s arm to his neck, and then into his hair.

Nico sighs into his mouth. Out of instinct, he put both hands on the back of Will’s neck, trying to pull him closer.

The sudden pressure on his hand makes him wince and step back. He would have tripped backward on the infirmary bed if it wasn’t for Will immediately grabbing his waist, keeping him steady.

“You okay?” he asks, slightly breathless, and the butterflies return to Nico’s stomach.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Do you think you can give me some more of that ambrosia? I need my hand to heal so we can keep doing that.”

Will smiles like he can’t help it, placing a kiss on Nico’s cheek before reaching into the drawer again.

—

solangelo tag list (message/ask to be added removed)

@unicornsgomooo @anxiouswinter @soulangelou @number-of-fucks-i-give-0 @underworldystuff @theeloquentsnake @solangelover@thefandomsaretakingover @internallyexplodingrainbows @motivatedcryptidtamer @emilyfairchild @wherethewildthingsare-nt @hetapeep41 @blavk-dahlia

#solangelo #nico di angelo #will solace #pjo #heros of olympus #my writing #mine #liz writes.com

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askredmedic · 3 years

Text

IMPORTANT, read this please! [OOC]

Heya, mod Lucky here. I’ve seen loads of new accounts popping up and interacting now, and I’m super excited to see that a sort of group has been kickstarted inspired by each other’s blogs! (I’m looking at you, BLU scout and RED Sniper, haha.)

However, while I love doing interactions with everyone, I’d like to address the fact that this blog was never meant to be part of anything big, just a small ask blog with it’s own lore. Because of which, I may be choosy with who or what I interact with just to keep things within the personal blog lore.

If you’d like to be an enemy or a teammate, that’s fine! You’re perfectly canon! But some aspects of this world may differ from others, such as Spy bot being the only sentient bot (that they know of) due to certain factors that will be mentioned below.

I’d like to clarify that I absolutely love interacting with anons, you guys, the other blogs, etc! But it should be kept in mind that not everything posted here will be canon to the blog lore.

If possible, I’ll try and tag anything that’s not necessarily canon under Not canon tag, that way you can filter accordingly before sending asks!

Why am I saying all this?

Here’s a bit more background into what this blog is, and everything else that I see fit to note.

Askredmedic is made by a system and run by their host and Medic. It’s a semi-rp, semi-Medic run blog and some asks have changed our history from his own, such as the bots, etc. I’m fine with that! I tried developing some lore for this blog, and I’d like to keep expanding on it via. asks and responses. That’s what this is all about, after all!

However, I’d like to mention that some things may vary from canon, and things such as BLU Spy bot aren’t meant to be a common thing in the universe these dudes are in. Basically, he was created due to being unable to recover entirely intact robots on the field, and so they tried to make a bot that could regenerate just as a human would with a medigun, hence how the resurrection thing was discovered.

If I choose not to interact with some other blogs, keep in mind that some interactions aren’t necessarily canon and are instead for fun! Others I may choose to integrate into lore with explanations, etc.

I just don’t want people to be disappointed if they want to interact and I never respond!!! It’s not that I’m ignoring you in particular, it’s more that sometimes we can be a bit choosy with what to acknowledge based on the account’s lore, or just don’t necessarily feel up for interacting at that moment.

I’ll let Medic type a letter to ya’ll here under the cut, in case he has anything he’d like to add.

I don’t believe I have anything else I’d like to add, but do have some things I’d like to say!

I’ve had a lot of fun over the last week responding to everybody, terrorizing poor scouts, such and so forth. I’d like to say that if I ever make anybody uncomfortable it’s never my intention, and I can take down posts accordingly if I ever go to far with my enthusiasm over medical sciences!

I as a person was created entirely to be a coping mechanism, and I still stand by my purpose to be a place of warmth and comfort for those who may still need it. While it is in my character to be an excitable maniac with little regard for safety or personal space, keep in mind that I am not only that.

I am a man with (some) morals, but I am steadfast with my goals, I am one who can guide others. I can hold my own on the battlefield, I am also essentially a living heater, hahah. I am loyal to my team and I care deeply for my close coworkers, comrades, dare I say it friends.

Good gracious, this is sounding awfully self indulgent, isn’t it?

What I am trying to say is that I am multi-faceted, and I do hope that my cold exterior does not prevent you from wanting to visit sometimes. BLU, RED, or otherwise, so long as I lack reason to experiment, I’m perfectly fine with you hanging around!

The Administrator knows she cannot do anything to harm me. And I will not harm you.

Usually!

- Medic

#askredmedic #ask medic #tf2 #tf2 medic #medic tf2 #long post #important #announcement #caps tw #surgery m #ask to tag.#ooc

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bitchloveskcbaseball · 4 years

Text

Wake-Up Call

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x Casey Valentine

Series: The Bones

Word Count: 874 (holy crap, I finally did it! LOL)

Warnings: Language, of course.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry

A/N: This is my entry for @wackydrabbles prompt #53: It’s been a really long day.

"What the actual hell, Valentine?"

Startled, Casey's eyes flew open only to be greeted by the searing light coming from her ceiling fan. Shielding her sleepy vision with an arm above her head, she groaned, "What?"

"Don't play all innocent. You know what."

"I'm not playing anything. You just fucking woke me up like an asshole with no warning and you expect me to know what you're talking about?"

"The fact that I just woke you up should be your biggest hint."

"Seriously? Quit playing fucking games and just tell me what you're goddamn problem is."

"You know what, Casey? Screw it."

"Dammit, Bryce! Stop!" When Bryce paused a few steps down the hallway, Casey begged quietly, "Please just come back and tell me what's going on."

His shoulders slumped but his eyes were still flashing fire as he walked over to her bedside. "Are you seriously telling me you don't know why I'm pissed?"

Realization dawned and Casey bristled, "You're pissed because I bailed on a night at Donahue's?"

"God, no! I'm fucking pissed because you didn't tell anybody you weren't coming!"

"I figured a group of doctors would be smart enough to figure out I'd gone home when I didn't show up."

"But then you didn’t even answer your damned phone! We were all calling you like crazy!"

Casey shrugged her shoulders and tossed back, "It's been a really long day. I didn't want to be bothered, so I turned it off."

"And you don't still don't see the problem?"

"Honestly, no."

Throwing his hands up in the air, Bryce hissed, "How selfish can you be?"

"What -- "

"No, just shut up.” Surprised by how hostile he was being, Casey sat quietly in shock. “First, you never show up at the bar. So we try calling you but you don't answer your phone. Then, we get a text from Rafael asking if we're all okay."

"Why -- "

"Shut up, Casey.” Pausing to take a deep breath, Bryce continued, “Raf is all panicked because he heard that the paramedics were called to an accident between the subway station and your apartment. An accident between a drunk driver and a pedestrian. And we have no fucking clue where you are."

Tears welled in Casey's eyes as Bryce’s anger starts to make sense. "Oh, my god. Bryce…"

"Oh, so you do get it?"

"I'm sorry -- "

"Save it. Clearly you are fine, so my job here is done."

"Bryce! Wait!" Grabbing onto his hand, Casey tried to lace her fingers with his, flinching when he pulled away. "I'm so, so, so sorry!"

His shoulders raised and fell with his deep sigh before he finally turned back to face her, nearly breaking her heart when she saw the tears shimmering in his eyes. His voice broke as he whispered, "I was so scared, Case…"

This time when she tried to twine their fingers together, he didn't pull away and she used their joined hands to pull him down next to her. His arms instantly went around her and he buried his face in her hair and she wound her own arms around his neck. "I'm here. I'm safe. Baby, I'm so sorry."

She had no idea how long they stayed like that, just trying to reassure each other that everything was okay. Guilt weighed heavily over her as she ran her fingers through Bryce's hair, desperate to do anything and everything she could to comfort him when a thought popped into her mind. Before she could talk herself out of it, she nudged his side. "Hey, Bryce."

Head now tucked into the crook of her neck, his voice was muffled as he muttered, "Yeah?"

"I love you."

He pulled back from her so abruptly he almost knocked her ear off. Gaze frantically searching her own, he breathed, "What?"

She fought a wave of panic, dreading that she'd read his behavior all wrong and she'd just ruined everything. There was no going back, however, so she said it again, much softer this time, "I love you, Bryce Lahela."

"Seriously?" There was a hint of wonder in his voice that gave her a spark of hope.

Feeling a little more confident, she admitted, "Absolutely. I've known it for a while. I was just too scared to say it."

Reaching a hand up, Bryce brushed a few stray strands of hair away from the side of her face and then cupped her cheek. He dropped his head forward so his forehead was resting against hers and the spark flared into a full-fledged fire within her. Rubbing his lips against hers, he took a deep breath and then finally whispered, "I love you too, Casey."

Pressing their lips together in a deep kiss, Casey pulled Bryce with her as she fell back against the pillows behind her. Instead of settling more firmly against her, Bryce pulled back, bracing himself with a hand on either side of her head.

Breathless and confused, she arched an eyebrow and asked, "What’s wrong?"

A mischievous look crossed Bryce’s face before he warned, "You scare me like that again, I'm gonna take it back."

Smile so big it almost hurt her face, Casey laughed, "Like I'd ever let you do that. You are stuck with me now, Lahela."

Tags: @burnsoslow @anotherbeingsworld @darley1101 @lahellacute @mrsdrlahela @mvalentine

A/N: I wasn’t actually going to participate this week, but then this just kinda happened. When it was done, I didn’t hate it, so I figured why not post it (this is me hoping I didn’t butcher Bryce in this). But I’ve been kind of a mess lately, so please forgive me if it takes a while to respond to any feedback. I love and appreciate you all, even if I suck at expressing it right now.

#bryce x mc #bryce lahela x mc #bryce lahela #choices open heart #wacky drabbles

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thegingerwriter · 4 years

Text

The Vegas of Hollywood - Scene

If you’re seeing this for the first time, Check out Chapter 1 here!

Hey kids. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted anything let alone an update to one of my most popular stories lol. So here’s a scene in between Chapters 3 and 4 so I can start moving the story along a little faster. I just kind of realised I’m still in Episode 1. Oops. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. Forgive meeeee! xx

I think it was 4am. Hard to tell- the sky outside the window up in the loft was no longer completely pitch black, but I couldn’t hear any birds or any signs of anybody being awake. And yet, sitting up slightly, I noticed a figure sitting on the edge of the platform, their legs hanging over the edge.

“Alex?” I whispered, and he turned towards me. He looked exhausted. My heart hurt as I noticed he seemed to be crying.

I pulled myself up off from the mattress we had put onto the floor, pushing Reggie- who had fallen asleep next to me with an arm draped over my middle- gently off of me so as to not wake him up. I scooted over to the edge where Alex sat, sitting right next to him. There was silence for a moment, waiting for him to speak first just in case he needed the silence. Sometimes he didn’t need words- he just needed someone to physically be there.

Without saying a word, Alex reached for my hand, holding it with both of his while letting them rest in his lap.

“Lex, you okay?” I said softly, pushing my shoulder against his. I looked down at the studio below us, also noticing Luke had fallen asleep on the couch, his song book on his chest with one leg thrown over the back of the couch. The way that boy fell asleep sometimes truly baffled me.

“Do you remember…” Alex finally spoke, and I turned all of my attention towards him. “Do you remember when we were kids, and our parents would jokingly talk about us getting married?”

I smiled at the memory. “And how they claimed that literally nothing could come up that would stop us from being together forever and having 50 good Christian children?”

“Yep. That.” Alex let out a quiet laugh. “And then when… I found out I was gay.”

I remember when he told me. We were 12- our parents were so close, we had Sunday lunch together every. Single. Week. The parents told us to go play, and Alex came over to me and just flat out said, ‘I don’t think I like girls.’ And being 12, I simply responded, ‘okay’ and kept on chasing him through the grass like we were much younger than we actually were.

“So, what’s wrong?” I asked.

“I died. My parents have known I was dead for the last 25 years… Would they still be proud of me if I were alive? Would they be as disappointed now than what they were before?” He sniffled, and I squeezed his hand. “We’re here, we have a second chance, right? And yet, I can’t stop thinking about the fact that they still wouldn’t be proud of their son for who he is.”

Every bit of my being hurt for him- this boy, my best friend, who has owned my entire heart ever since we were too small to talk.

“Alex, listen- my parents have forever given me a similar feeling. Both private school kids, we broke the main things they expected of us. My mother absolutely screamed when I told her I was bisexual. And then again, when I told her I was dating Reggie- in her eyes, a poor, hillbilly boy corrupting me to run away and join his band.” I laughed a bit at that last part, and so did Alex.

The four of us all had issues with our families. And we’d carry that everywhere we went- in this world, or the next.

“The thing is…I’m proud of you. Reggie is- Luke is. And we’re here- right now. We’re all here together and nothing else needs to matter because we’re your family.”

We sat in silence for another moment before Alex leaned down and kissed my shoulder. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, V.” He whispered so lowly I barely heard it.

“Everything okay up there?” A sleepy voice asked softly, and I looked down to see Luke looking up at the both of us, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. He disappeared from the couch and reappeared next to us, yawning while I gave him a gentle smile.

“Is someone dead?” Another voice asked, and I looked over to see Reggie sitting up, his black hair sticking up randomly in some places. “Oh good, you’re still here- I kinda thought you might have…” He squinted in my direction and I let out an exasperated sigh.

“We’re okay, no one is dead. We just woke up for a bit.” I said reassuringly, moving back to the double mattress pushed up against the wall. “I’m gonna go back to sleep now.”

There was silence for a moment, and I looked back to see the boys hadn’t moved. It took me a few seconds before it dawned on me, and I gave them all a sympathetic smile.

“You guys don’t want to be alone, do you?” I was met with slow shakes of the head. This wasn’t new- when it all came down to it, we really were just a couple kids clinging to each other for a sense of family. Alex’s anxiety, Luke’s homesickness and conflicted feelings over his family, and Reggie’s overall fear of being abandoned had all come up more than once. And my issues certainly weren’t something I could ignore frequently either.

“Come on, then” I said gently, moving back to let Reggie wrap his arms around me again. Alex pushed some pillows against the wall, choosing to sit up slightly while I put my head in his lap. Luke situated himself next to Alex, lying down next to the blonde boy’s legs.

Calmness. Silence.

Then Luke said, “I really do love you guys.”

We know, Luke. We all really do.

***

“Guys? Vegas?” I awoke to a voice calling out downstairs in the studio. I recognised it as Julie’s voice immediately, and I tried to sit up and call out to her, but suddenly stopped when I realised that I was in the middle of a tangle of limbs.

“Jesus.” I mumbled.

While I still had Reggie clinging to me with his arms, I suddenly found Alex, now completely lying down, with one of legs hooked over mine. I sat up as much as I could without waking them up to see Luke directly next to Alex, with both of his arms completely wrapped around Alex’s middle much like how Reggie was holding me.

“I don’t know what kind of weird relationship we have,” I started, looking down at Reggie as I noticed he was beginning to stir. “But I’m beginning to consider just letting the three of you have each other…”

TAGS:

(I’ve removed tags that haven’t been working)

@bestdressedandstressed

@hacker-ghost

@allmybattleships

@blondie0458

@aberette13

@oopsiedoopsie23

@cocastyle

@blairrrose

@high-on-shai

@thoughts-elsewhere

@kiss-themoongoodbye

@deni-gonzalez

@khiaraaa-in-spacee

@lovesanimals

@epikskool

@deni-gonzalez

@gingerxarmy

@undecided-xs-world

@amazing-socks

@miraculousraventumbls

@emar185744

#reggie peters x reader #reggie x reader #julie and the phantoms x reader

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