#HELP HOW DID THIS GET 4000 NOTES????

[eiimie]

redesigned equestrian girls princesses because their canon designs are… mid

reposting old art

[deus-ex-mona]

monachan haul has arrived ✨safely✨

[ranhaitanisgf]

can i request a quiet gf reader who plays bass in a band with her friends and like this guy has been making fun of her and she gets enough and punches him infront of her bf with kazutora, smiley, and mikey

get out of my face!!

synopsis: how will they react when you punch the creep who's been bothering you and your band?

☆ a/n ˎˊ˗ haii thank u anon for requesting ! :3 this was super fun to write, so i hope you all enjoy!! xoxo [just as a note, i didnt rlly see a reason to make this fem reader + there was really just not any relevance so i made it gn! i hope you dont mind ╥﹏╥]

☆ characters ˎˊ˗ kazutora hanemiya, nahoya [smiley] kawata, manjiro [mikey] sano x g/n!reader

☆ wc ˎˊ˗ 3.4k+

masterlist

kazutora hanemiya: 

❥ he loves the fact that you’re in a band!! he thinks it’s so cool, and he is constantly asking all kinds of questions about all of it, like ‘do you get nervous when you see all the people?’ and ‘is it hard to play fast songs?’. he’ll ask you the same questions over and over again whenever the two of you are talking, but he can’t help it! he’s just so interested about all of it!

❥ while it’s a bit unrealistic for him to be able to attend every single show you perform, he tries his best to come to all the ones he possibly can, (really, he’s only missed two which is quite impressive). he’ll always send you encouraging messages before the show if he can’t see you, and he’ll send little messages while you’re performing for you to read later. 

kazu <3: you look so cool! kazu <3: i can hear your bass playing right now! it sounds so good! 

❥ he doesn’t want to cause a scene in the crowd because he doesn’t want to make more trouble for you, but he will death glare anybody who is cheering for you, (minus your friends). why are they cheering for you? he’s the only one who should be cheering for you!! will proceed to shout your name ten times louder. 

❥ when he has the funds for it, kazutora will bring you your favorite snack or drink after a show!! he knows that you get tired afterwards, so he likes to contribute a little bit to your recharging. he’ll usually be the one taking you home too since it’s usually late by the time your band finishes up, (when he’s there, he will not entrust you to anybody else). 

❥ your number one bodyguard!! he’s always with you whenever you’re not on stage, making sure that there aren’t any creeps who are trying to approach you. if there’s anybody who has the nerves to do so, he’s immediately threatening them and making sure they leave. 

❥ kazutora had been suspecting that you’d been keeping something from him, but he wasn’t sure what. lately, you’d seemed a bit more jumpy and uptight at your gigs, your eyes looking around as if you were searching for someone. when he asked what was going on, you had said it was nothing. 

❥ after this particular gig, he found out it wasn’t nothing. 

“hey!! you really think you guys are gonna be one of those bigshot bands??” a twisted laugh echoed through the hallway, making kazutora perk up, his eyes locking onto a boy who was approaching you and the rest of your friends. he heard you sigh, your eyebrows knitting together in frustration and annoyance; did you know this guy? 

“uju! you have some goddamn nerve showing up here!!” one of your friends yelled, their voice tainted with rage. “you’d really pay a 4000 yen entrance ticket just to cause trouble?!” 

“you really think i’d do that? i snuck in.” the boy scoffed, shaking his head. “i just had to come and tape this so i could have a record of how much you guys fuckin’ suck.” 

kazutora could feel his eye twitching, anger flooding through him at the boy’s words. how dare he badmouth your band like that? does he not know talent when he sees it?!

“(y/n), do you want me to-?” he began, but you shook your head, giving him a small smile. 

“no, it’s alright. i got this.” he looked at you confusedly but you’d already started walking away, moving through your friends to face the boy. he started laughing, leaning closer to as you as if he were sizing you up, (it made kazutora’s blood boil, but he restrained himself because you said you could handle it). 

“wowww, the big time bass player!! you reallyyyy have some nerve coming up to me like this; you’re usually so quiet i can’t even see you!” he said, his voiced laced with malice. “just like the bass, you’re always in the background-” 

one moment he was talking, and the next you had driven your fist right into his face, your punch making a solid impact with his jaw. the boy lost his balance, falling to the ground and making a loud thump! sound. 

silence hung over everyone for a few moments, all eyes on you as you continued to stand there, looking down at the boy. after the shock passed, you shook out your hand, wincing a bit as you did so. 

“i didn’t know punching someone would hurt like this.” 

your words triggered reactions from everyone, your friends huddling around you and hyping you up for finally beating some sense into the boy. 

“someone had to do it soon, i just didn’t know it was going to be you, (y/n)! haha!” you smiled a bit at their comments, obviously feeling a bit shy from all the attention that was on you. 

“let’s go get something good to eat in honor of (y/n) kicking his ass!!” 

“yeah!!” 

“let’s go!!” you laughed at your friend’s rowdiness, telling them that you would come out soon. after they all left, you hesitantly looked at kazutora, wondering if he hated you. 

he was staring at you with his eyes open so big they could fall out of his sockets and his jaw was hanging open; it was the most shocked you’d ever seen him. 

“(y/n)...you totally just punched him…” he managed to get out. you shyly smiled, coming closer to him. 

“yeah, i learned it from watching you…i hope that’s alright.”

“alright…? it was amazing!!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around your waist. kazutora easily picked you up, swinging you around with a wild and excited grin on his face. “you were so cool! it was like something out of a comic!!” he was planting kisses all over your face, making you laugh from the ticklish feeling. 

“h-hey! stop!” 

“no! you were so so awesome!” he put you down, but he continued kissing your face, the gleeful look on his face being absolutely adorable. “lemme take you to go with your friends, hm? i can take you home too.” 

“are you sure? it’s already pretty late…” 

“it’s not even question, c’mon.” he answered, pressing a final kiss to your temple. his hand found yours, lacing your fingers together as he started to lead you to the parking lot, passing by the boy who was rubbing his jaw on the floor. when the two of you walked by, he let out a sound of fear, his eyes flicking between you and your boyfriend. 

“if i see you again in here, you’re dead meat, you got that?” kazutora threatened, his voice suddenly stony cold. 

“y-yes!” 

“good.” 

nahoya [smiley] kawata: 

❥ he’s surprisingly very into the music scene! he’s always hyping you up before and after your shows, ruffling your hair and telling you to give it your all. 

❥ he’s always bragging about the fact that you’re his s/o! he loves to brag to everybody he knows, talking about how his amazing and perfect s/o is so talented, talented enough to be in a band! he keeps videos of your performances on his phone to show people, (they are poor quality and you can hear him screaming your name in the background). 

❥ when at your shows, he does the same thing! my apologies to anybody who is standing near him; he is going to be talking their ear off the whole time about you, saying how ‘their bass playing really brings the whole thing together, don’t you think?’, (they are forced to agree). 

❥ he’s not afraid to make a scene and he will punch anybody who is booing your band or is overall just being negative. one thing he won’t stand for is a negative and unwelcoming atmosphere, so you best believe he’s going to do his part to make sure that the audience is welcoming for you and your band!

❥ regularly drags his brother and friends to come and watch you perform, making them cheer as loud as him. they are happy to do it though! they all think that you are super talented and they are always super supportive, congratulating you and telling you that you did an amazing job after the show. 

❥ screams your name while you are performing! he gets really into music, and he’s even more into it because you’re the one who's performing! there won’t ever be a time when you don’t hear his voice while you’re playing, and despite the fact that he always loses his voice by the end of the night, he thinks it’s completely worth it if he’s supporting you!

❥ he never misses your sets! he doesn’t usually have a whole lot going on, and even if he does, he absolutely would not miss them for the world! he’s even skipped toman meetings before to go see you, (he got in trouble, but again, he thought it was absolutely worth it). 

❥ his rowdy personality and your more shy and quiet one make for an interesting pair, but all of your friends agree that the two of you are perfect for each other. smiley is there to give you more confidence when you don’t have it, and you’re there to calm him down when he gets a little bit too unruly. 

❥ tries to get you to teach him how to play bass, and he fails horribly at it, (‘it’s so hard to put my damn fingers where i want them to go!!’).

“oi, you got a problem bud?” you suddenly heard. following your boyfriend’s gaze, your mood immediately soured when you saw who he was looking at. 

uju had been bothering you and your friends for a few weeks now for no particular reason, (maybe he was just bored) and you were all beginning to tire of it quickly, his negative presence ruining the vibe of the set. 

“hah, you guys think you’re such big hotshots that you need security? talk about lame!” he sneered, shaking his head. “why don’t you guys just go back to playing in your garage? at least then the rats will listen to you.” 

“hah?! you think you can stay shit like that and get away with it??” nahoya asked, his grin turning violent. “you’re in for a world of pain if you think that-” he paused when he felt a tug on his sleeve, your expression as you looked at him being strangely resolved. 

“nahoya, it’s fine. let me handle this.” 

“hmm…whatever you say, lover~” he hummed, giving you a confident grin. “go show them what you’re made of.” 

you nodded at his words, giving a small smile before approaching the sneering boy, his face twisted in hostility as he saw you approaching. your friends were whispering to each other as they watched you approaching him, talking to nahoya. he just shook his head at them, subtly pointing to you and keeping his confident smile. 

“you need to leave.” 

“you’re telling me to leave? i’m just out here telling the truth! everyone at school is embarrassed to see you guys doing this, so really, you could say that i’m helping you all out!” he laughed, rolling his eyes at your annoyed expression. “you should just deal with the hard truth and move on-” 

“you’re such an asshole.” you stated, your voice sharp enough to cut. “if you say one more word about us, you’ll regret it.” 

“riiight, like the little background character is gonna do anything. at least your little bass isn’t terrible, but the others…whew, they just don’t know how to-” 

your fist flew into his face, knocking straight into his cheek and making him collide against the wall beside the two of you. he fell to the ground, too shocked to even process what had just happened. 

“yeah!! that’s my amazing (y/n) right there!!” you heard nahoya yell, his voice booming through the chatter of the venue. it was mostly empty now, but the remaining people turned to stare at you as you walked back to your friends, wincing a bit when your hand brushed against your side. 

nahoya was the first the greet you, his hand landing on top of your head to ruffle your hair. his grin was huge as he looked at you with pride. 

“you didn’t tell me you were such a badass, (y/n)!! that was a solid punch!” 

“ahh, i’m really not…he was just pissing me off.” you answered, a bit embarrassed that you’d let your anger out in such a violent way. 

“either way, he totally deserved it!” one of your friends piped up. the rest of them agreed, complaining about how he had been bothering your band for a while. 

“yeah, he was such a jackass!! we gotta celebrate this! meet us in the parking lot, yeah?” 

“oh, yeah, okay!” you responded, watching as they all walked off, giving you big smiles and thumbs up as they were leaving. you shook your hand out, a bit of your discomfort showing on your face as you felt pain shoot up your knuckles. 

“first time punchin’ someone?” nahoya asked, gently taking your hand in his. 

“yeah, i didn’t know it was gonna hurt so much.” 

“well, it does hurt when you’re not used to punchin’ people.” he explained, gently tracing your knuckles. when he saw which spots were most painful for you he put your hand down again. “you don’t know how to correctly punch, but you still sent him into the wall like that? you’re cool as hell for that. and when we get back, i’ll wrap your hand for you.” 

“mm…thanks, nahoya.” 

“of course, sweets. now, let’s go celebrate your victory, yeah?” 

manjiro [mikey] sano:

❥ he thinks you’re literally the coolest person ever!! he doesn’t have a single clue how to play any instruments, so he loves watching you play! he thinks you look the most attractive when you’re tearing it up on the bass, the enjoyment and happiness on your face making you look absolutely amazing, (secretly tries to take pictures during your set, but he keeps getting blocked by other people’s heads). 

❥ asks if you can play the bass for any of his favorite songs!! he’s definitely the type who will be absolutely shocked, amazed, and somehow even more in love if he ever hears you learning how to play them for him! 

❥ he can’t attend all of your shows, but he does make you promise to have somebody record it so that he can watch it later! he insists on watching the videos with you so that he can tell you at which moments you look the coolest, (he loves to see your embarrassed expression as you shyly thank him). 

❥ definitely brings all his friends to watch you! they all jam out to your band’s music and think you’re super cool! 

❥ because of mikey’s height, he will most likely ask if you can get him better seats so he has a good view of you. it’s not something in your power which makes him sad, so he’ll do his best to try and see you from where he’s at, (will yell at the people in front of him if they are too tall). 

❥ adding on to this, he might invite draken for the sole purpose of having him lift him up so he can see you better. 

❥ he creates a whole fanpage for you! mikey will compile all his different photos and videos of you and posts them to myspace, adding the most fanboy comments about you under the posts! 

mmikey_78: (y/n) was so cool at this show!  mmikey_78: my amazing (y/n) with their band performing their top song!!

❥ he likes to watch you and your band practice quickly before you guys perform, always teasing you by sending you cute winks and finger hearts. 

❥ you’re the only person he will share his snacks with!! he usually will split half of one with you before you play and then after, saying that you need it to get your energy up so that you can play really well. he also does it because he likes to give you a few moments of quiet before you go on stage so that you can calm your nerves, and then give you a few moments after your show to gather yourself since he knows you’re a bit shy. 

❥ he’s friendly with all your bandmates too, telling them that they all did a great job after you guys finish performing! 

❥ always makes sure to drive you wherever you need to go; he even got a special super secure holder on his motorbike for your bass so that you don’t have to leave it somewhere else, (he spent a lot of his money on it, but he would do anything to make you happy). 

“hm? (y/n)-cchi, do you know that person? he’s been staring at you guys for a while.” mikey whispered, his lips close to your ear. 

“gah! manjiro! don’t scare me like that…” you murmured, looking around to see who he was talking about. “who? i don’t see anyone.” 

mikey planted his hands on the sides of your head, turning it slowly until your head was facing who he was talking about. 

“ah, him…he’s just this guy from our school who’s been bothering us.” you explained, moving your eyes away from him. “it’s not really a big deal though. he’s just a weirdo- gah!” mikey suddenly turned your head to look back at him, a pout on his lips. 

“it’s a big deal if he’s bothering you guys! why didn’t you say anything about it before?” he whined, his brows furrowed together. “i could easily wipe the floor with him, y’know. do you not have faith in meee-!?” 

“no, it’s not that manjiro! i just don’t want to cause any trouble, y’know…?” you trailed off when you saw from the corner of your eye the boy approaching the two of you. “man, speak of the devil…” 

“hey!! where’s the rest of your little ‘band’? did they finally realize that you’re the most expendable?” he cackled. 

“what’d you just say?” mikey asked, his voice flat. “who do you think you are talking to (y/n) like that, huh?” he moved to step in front of you, but you gently grabbed his arm, shaking your head. 

“manjiro, it’s fine. it’s really not worth it.” you murmured, avoiding making eye contact with uju. “he’s just a jerk.” 

“but-” 

“really, it’s fine! let’s just go.” you pleaded. “i really don’t want to get into it with him right now.” mikey seemed hesitant, but after a few moments he relented. 

“fineee. let me take you home then-” 

“you’re ignoring me? hah, that’s rich. everybody knows you don’t have the guts to actually do anything.” uju leered, stepping forward to stand right in front of you. mikey had an intense look in his eyes, but you shook your head at him, making uju scoff. “oho, calling off your scary guard dog? wow, i’m soo scared!” he leaned forward getting right in your face. “i bet all your little friends left because they know that they would be better off without you! how does it feel to have the harsh truth shoved in your face? go on, tell me-!” 

before you knew what you were doing, your hand had formed into a fist and flew straight into his nose, sending him flying back. 

“gah, that hurt!!” you exclaimed, immediately cradling your hurt hand with your other. after a few seconds, you looked up, realizing that mikey was staring at you with a surprised expression and that uju was still laying on the ground. “oh my god, what did i just do?!” 

you suddenly felt a pair of arms around you and you heard laughing in your ear, mikey’s voice ringing throughout the room. 

“(y/n)-cchi, you punched him!! you actually punched him!! that was so funny!” he managed to get out. “you sent him flying!!” 

“i-i didn’t mean to! he was just all up in my face and then i just…! agghhh, i shouldn’t have done that!” all you got in response was mikey’s arms tightening around your waist, pulling you closer to his side. 

“you did so good! oh, but let’s get out of here before anybody notices!” he exclaimed, grabbing your hand and pulling you in the direction of the parking lot. “i’ll drive you home!” 

“am i going to get arrested?!” 

“don’t worry, i won’t ever let them catch you!” 

“ohh my god, i’m gonna go to jail!!”

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔨𝔦𝔰𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔟𝔶𝔢

Josh Futturman x gender neutral reader

Note: This was requested from a really nice person on wattpad: "I would definitely like to see some smut and fluff, either one is perfect. Since his character is like a janitor by day and a gamer by night, I think I would like to see this whole thing be, where Josh is getting ready for work but the reader is bothered by it because he never says goodbye and just lets the reader sleep in. It'll turn into a small argument but then turn into smut. Like slight fluff but mostly smut." Added in a personal idea at the start to create the ground for the request.

Warnings: You and Josh playing video games together! Long discussions about video games. Josh being a scaredy cat. Very minor gore moment. Argument between a couple. Smut. Make-up sex. Blowjob (r giving). Submissive Josh. Riding.

Words count: around 4000

Can also be found in wattpad and ao3

You and Josh have been inseparable for years, ever since you first crossed paths in the virtual realm of "Biotic Wars." Your relationship, which began with playful banter and late-night gaming sessions, has grown into something deeply meaningful. Josh's quirky humor and your mutual love for video games have always been the glue holding you two together.

Today was supposed to be a special gaming day. Both of you had been practicing tirelessly to finally conquer Biotic Wars, a challenge that had eluded you for months. Josh, with his expertise and quick reflexes, often led the charg, while you provided backup with your strategic mind and occasional bursts of brilliance. The game was notorious for its unforgiving difficulty, requiring not just skill but also perfect coordination between players.

As the game loaded, you felt a familiar thrill course through your veins. The virtual world came alive with its intense graphics and pulsating soundtrack. Josh, sitting in his well-worn gaming chair, wore a reassuring grin. "Ready to finally take down these biotic beasts?" he asked you through the headphones, his voice brimming with excitement.

"Absolutely. Let's show them what we're made of" you replied, tightening your grip on the controller.

The battle began with an explosion of colors and sounds as you maneuvered your characters through the treacherous terrain. Josh, as always, took the lead, deftly dispatching enemies with pinpoint accuracy. You followed closely, providing cover and eliminating threats as they appeared. For a while, everything was going smoothly, and you could feel victory within reach.

Then came the final boss.

You were both in sync, executing strategies and dodging attacks with near-perfect precision. But just as victory seemed assured, a split-second lapse in concentration caused your character to fall into a trap.

"No!" you exclaimed, watching helplessly as your health bar plummeted. Josh fought valiantly to cover for your mistake, but the boss proved too powerful, and soon both your screens flashed the dreaded "Game Over" message.

You sighed heavily, disappointment washing over you. "i'm sorry, Josh," you said, genuinely frustrated. "I messed up. I should have seen that coming."

Josh, ever the optimist, chuckled softly. "Hey, it's all part of the game. It's hard to follow a master, I get it." he added, his voice dripping with playful cockiness.

You couldn't help but laugh at his teasing tone. Despite his jesting, there was no malice behind his words, just an attempt to lighten the mood. "Oh, you think you're so great, huh?" you challenged, grinning at him.

"Well, I did just carry us through most of that level," he replied.

"All right, Mr. Video Game Prodigy," you retorted, your competitive spirit ignited. "How about I challenge you to a game I'm actually good at?"

His interest piqued, Josh agreed immediately, his confidence unshaken. "Bring it on," he said, leaning back on his chair with a smug look. "I'm ready for whatever you've got."

An hour later, he arrived at your place, his energy and excitement palpable. The moment you opened the door, he enveloped you in a warm hug, peppering your face with kisses until you were both laughing uncontrollably.

"Okay, what's this mystery game of yours?" he asked as you led him to your gaming setup.

You handed him the CD case, watching as his confidence wavered slightly upon reading the title.

Friday the 13th: The Game.

The look on his face was priceless.

"You've got to be kidding," he muttered, examining the cover with a mix of disbelief and amusement.

"You can back out if you're scared," you teased, knowing full well that Josh would never back down from a challenge.

His expression shifted to a mask of determination, resignation in his eyes. "Scared? Me? Never. Let's do this."

Settling into your chairs, you loaded the game. Friday the 13th was a stark departure from Biotic Wars.

The horror game was designed to be tense and thrilling, with players taking on the roles of camp counselors trying to survive the night while being hunted by the infamous Jason Voorhees.

As the game loaded, the iconic and haunting music filled the room, setting the stage for the tense and terrifying experience that lay ahead. Josh's character, one of the playable camp counselor, appeared on screen, standing alone in the dimly lit forest of Camp Crystal Lake.

The objective was simple yet daunting: survive the night while being hunted by Jason Voorhees, the relentless killer.

Josh's initial confidence waned slightly as he adjusted to the slower pace and eerie setting of the game. The dim light flickered on the screen, casting shadows that seemed to move of their own accord.

The game's mechanics, designed to induce fear and suspense, were a stark contrast to the fast-paced action he was used to.

Every sound, every rustle of leaves, seemed to put him on edge.

"You got this," you encouraged, trying to stifle your laughter as you watched him nervously guide his character through the woods.

"Easy for you to say," he muttered, his eyes glued to the screen, fingers tense on the controller.

Josh carefully navigated his character through the cabins and open areas, occasionally stopping to collect useful items like health sprays, maps, and weapons.

Despite his best efforts to remain calm, it was clear he was fully immersed in the experience, jumping at every unexpected noise and shadow.

"Okay, this isn't too bad," he said, trying to maintain his bravado as he directed his character to a nearby cabin, securing the doors and windows.

"Just wait until you hear the music," you teased, knowing full well what was about to happen.

Then it happened.

The screen flickered, and the ominous glitching effect announced Jason's proximity, triggered by his shift ability.

The sudden distortion, a signature move that allowed Jason to cover ground quickly and catch players off-guard. Josh flinched, his entire body tensing up as Jason seemed to materialize out of nowhere.

"Whoa!" he yelped, his voice a mixture of surprise and nervous laughter as he instinctively mashed buttons to make his character sprint away from the unseen threat.

As the character's fear level spiked, eerie music blasted through the room, and the screen darkened, mirroring the rising dread of its player.

You burst out laughing, unable to contain your amusement at his reaction. "Run, Josh, run!" you hit rapidly on his arm, tears of laughter in your eyes.

"Why didn't you warn me about that?" he protested, his voice rising an octave as he attempted to escape Jason's clutches.

"Because this is way more fun," you replied between giggles, thoroughly enjoying his startled expressions and frantic button-mashing.

"He's behind you, Josh!" you shouted, adding to the tension with a mischievous grin.

"I know, I know!" he replied, his voice laced with mock panic as he desperately tried to maneuver his character to safety.

Despite his attempts to evade Jason, the chilling music intensified, signaling the killer's approach.

"No! No!" Josh exclaimed, trying to break free the second he was grabbed by the killer, but it was too late.

The screen erupted in a blaze of light as his character's head was violently severed, sending it spiraling through the air. His jaw dropped in shock, mirroring the dramatic fall of the counselor's head.

You were laughing so hard that tears streamed down your cheeks, your sides aching from the hilarity of the situation. Josh joined in, his initial fear giving way to the absurdity of it all.

"Okay, that was terrifying," he admitted, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "I wasn't expecting it to be that intense."

"Welcome to the world of horror games," you teased, still catching your breath from the laughter. "Do you want to go again, or should I show you how it's done?"

Josh handed you the controller with a dramatic flourish. "Please, show me the ropes. I clearly need some pointers."

Taking the controller, you settled into the familiar routine of the game, your confidence evident in your posture and movements. As your character spawned in the same erie campgrounds, you immediately began to strategize, quickly gathering supplies and coordinating your escape plan.

Josh, sitting beside you, was eager to learn the ropes, hoping to match your skill level and make the experience even more fun and collaborative.

His curiosity about the game was endearing, but you knew it would be a challenge to focus on playing while fielding his barrage of questions.

As the game began, you immediately focused on your objectives, guiding your character through the dark, foreboding campgrounds.

Your mind instinctively strategizes the best way to survive the night.

Next to you, Josh leaned in, eyes glued to the screen, a mixture of awe and determination on his face.

"So, what's the first thing you should do when the game starts?" he asked, his voice eager and slightly urgent.

"You want to search cabins for supplies, like maps and weapons," you replied, deftly moving your character toward a nearby cabin.

He nodded, absorbing the information before firing off another question. "What's the best weapon to use against Jason?"

You smiled, appreciating his enthusiasm. "The shotgun is the best one, but it only has a bullet loaded. Anything you can find to slow him down will help, like a baseball bat or a wrench."

You hear the ominous music indicating Jason is nearby. Your heart races as you move to the opposite direction, seeing from afar how he hasn't noticed your presence yet.

Josh, oblivious to the tension, continues his questioning.

"What's the best way to escape?"

"There are a few ways: fix the car, call the police, or survive until time runs out," you say, finding a map and showing it to Josh. "There is also the boat but it's way too risky since Jason moves very fast in the water."

Josh nods, scribbling notes mentally.

You entered a cabin and began searching for items, listening intently for any sign of Jason.

Josh's curiosity seemed endless "How do you know which counselor to choose? Which one is better?"

"Counselor stats matter" you replied, still concentrating on your character's actions.

"Each counselor has different stats like speed, stamina, repair skills and stealth. It affects how well they perform certain tasks," you explain, dodging a trap set by Jason to start repairing the phone box.

"What's stamina do?" Josh asks, genuinely curious.

"It's that yellow circle around the mini-map. Stamina affects how long you can run or perform some actions before needing to rest," you reply, keeping an eye on your stamina bar as you sprint inside the cabin to call the police.

"How do you regain stamina?"

"By standing still. It's crucial to manage it well, especially when Jason is chasing you," you say, watching intently as your character called the police.

"All the stats can work for you, but right now if you have someone with high speed you'll definitely will have a much better chance of survival" you explained to him, noticing a red dot on the mini-map.

He was near.

"Speed, huh?" Josh pondered, watching every movement of your finger in the controller. "What exactly does speed do?"

You paused, momentarily distracted by the abourdity of the question. Turning to him, you couldn't help but laugh. "Are you serious?" you asked, your voice filled with amusement

Josh realized his mistake and burst out laughing, the sound filling the room. "Okay okay, dumb question" he admitted, shaking his head at himself.

The shared laughter was a welcome break from the tension of the game. It was moments like these that reminded you of why you enjoyed spending time with Josh. His ability to find humor in even the most stressful situations and his genuine interest in learning something new, even if it meant asking silly questions.

"You know," you began, the excitement in your voice unmistakable, "one of the things I love most about this game is how well the maps are designed. They're so detailed and true to the movies. It's like you're actually there, experiencing the terror firsthand."

Josh nodded, his interest piqued by your enthusiasm. "Yeah? I didn't realize they were so accurate. That's really cool."

"It is!" you continued, a sparkle in your eyes. "Each map is a nod to the different movies. The developers included all these little details that only true fans would recognize. It makes the game so immersive, like you're living out your own horror movie experience."

He watched you intently, captivated by your passion. You rarely had the chance to dive into these nerdy discussions with others, but with Josh, it felt natural and safe.

"And the counselors," you said, leaning forward in your seat, "they're all inspired by characters from the films. Each one has their own unique stats and strengths, which makes it interesting to figure out who matches your playstyle and I just love how it all comes together."

Josh listened, a soft smile playing on his lips. You could feel his attention solely focused on you, and it made you feel appreciated, like every word you said mattered.

"And the chase," you added, your voice tinged with excitement. "The burst of adrenaline when Jason is right behind you, the music intensifying, your heart pounding—it's such a rush. It's terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. I love that feeling of being on the edge, trying to outsmart him and survive."

Josh chuckled, seeing how animated you had become. "I can tell you really love this game. It's amazing to see you light up like this."

You paused, feeling a bit self-conscious now that you had rambled on for so long, but his expression reassured you. There was no judgment, only admiration and affection in his eyes. "Sorry, I didn't mean to go on and on," you said, a bit embarrassed.

"Don't be sorry," he replied softly, reaching out to take your hand. "I love hearing you talk about things you're passionate about. You know, the way you dive so deeply into something you care about, it's one of the things I adore most about you"

His words warmed your heart, and you squeezed his hand in return, grateful to have someone who appreciated you for who you were. Josh had always supported your interests, and his genuine curiosity about your hobbies made you feel seen and understood.

"Thanks, Josh," you said, meeting his gaze with a smile. "I'm glad I can share this with you."

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with affection. "I'm just happy to be here with you, learning about all the things you love. It gives me more reason to play the game and try to keep up with you. You make it look so easy," Josh commented, his tone filled with genuine admiration.

"It just takes practice," you replied.

At one point, Jason burst through a door just as you slipped out a window, narrowly escaping his grasp. You then led him on a merry chase through the forest, conserving your stamina to buy time and regroup with other players.

"Wow, you're way too good at this," Josh said, his eyes fixed on the screen as he watched you lead your character to safety.

"It's all about keeping calm and thinking ahead," you explained, enjoying the chance to showcase your skills in a game you loved.

As the game progressed, you managed to evade Jason long enough for the police to arrive, signaling the end of the round.

With one final sprint, you guided your character to the safety of the police line, successfully surviving the night.

Josh was beaming, clearly impressed by your performance. "THAT WAS AMAZING."

Raising your hands in the air in victory while your boyfriend hugs you tightly. Both of you were shouting with joy from the success. "I know, I know. It's nice to finally have the upper hand for once."

The rest of the evening was filled with more rounds, tension and horror while Josh's continued flinching and surprised yelps kept the mood light and entertaining. Each round, he improved, guided by your expertise and encouragement.

By the end of the night, as you both settled back into the couch, Josh turned to you, his expression one of genuine affection. "Thanks for introducing me to this. It was nice taking a break from Biotic War, even if I was terrified half the time."

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his gaze. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. And hey, you're getting better. We could play this sometime together if you want"

Josh laughed, pulling you close for a hug. "Only if you promise not to laugh at my screams."

"Deal," you agreed, snuggling into his embrace, grateful for the shared experience and the deepened bond it had brought.

You turned your face towards Josh, a victorious smile on your face. "As a reward for winning, I have a couple of requests," you announced playfully.

Josh raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And what might those be?" he asked with a smirk.

"First, a kiss," you said, leaning closer.

He obliged happily, pulling you in for a gentle, lingering kiss that melted away the exhaustion of the night. "And second?" he asked, a teasing note in his voice.

"Carry me to bed?" you requested, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes.

Josh groaned playfully, rolling his eyes. "Really? You beat me in one game and now I'm your personal chauffeur?" he teased. "Alright, fine, but don't think this is going to be a regular thing."

With exaggerated reluctance, he scooped you up into his arms, grumbling under his breath about your apparent weight. He took comically slow, deliberate steps, exaggerating every movement as if he were carrying a ton of bricks. "Why are you so heavy? Did you sneak rocks into your pockets or something?" he joked, pretending to struggle as he navigated the hallway.

Every few steps, he'd stop dramatically to catch his breath, pretending to wipe sweat from his forehead. "I might need to call in reinforcements," he quipped, pausing to pretend to call for backup. You couldn't stop laughing, the combination of his theatrics and your helpless position making the journey to the bedroom an epic adventure in itself.

"Almost there," he declared, as if conquering a mountain, taking unnecessarily wide turns and pretending to stumble. You kept giggling, holding on tight as he continued his overly elaborate trek.

Finally, he reached the bedroom, gently setting you down on the bed with a mock sigh of relief. "There you go, your majesty," he quipped, wiping his brow in mock exhaustion. "Next time, I'm getting a forklift."

You pulled him closer, your hands looping around his neck as you whispered, "Now, don't think you're getting away. Stay with me."

Josh didn't hesitate, climbing into bed beside you. He wrapped his arms around you, the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a peaceful calm. Together, you drifted off, surrounded by the comfort of each other's presence.

The sunlight streamed softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the bedroom as you slowly stirred awake. You turned, expecting to find Josh next to you, but instead, the bed was empty and slightly cool where he had been lying. Blinking sleep from your eyes, you sat up, only to find Josh fully dressed for work.

Josh noticed you were awake and turned with a smile, walking over to the bed. "Morning, sleepyhead," he said warmly, leaning down to give you a quick kiss.

You leaned into the kiss, but something gnawed at you, a small feeling of frustration. This had become a familiar scene: Josh up and ready to leave without waking you, never saying goodbye properly. It seemed minor, but it had been building up over time, and today it felt like more than you could brush aside.

"Morning," you replied, trying to keep your voice light but unable to completely mask the tinge of irritation. Josh pulled back, noticing your tone.

"Everything okay?" he asked, a touch of concern in his voice, his brow furrowed as he looked at you.

You hesitated, not wanting to start an argument but feeling the need to voice your thoughts. "Josh, you always leave without saying goodbye. I know you want me to sleep, but it feels like...I don't know, like you're sneaking out," you admitted, looking down at the sheets, feeling a bit shy about bringing it up. Your heart fluttered with nervousness, unsure of how he would respond.

Josh's expression softened as he sat down on the edge of the bed, facing you. He reached out, his hand gentle as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I didn't realize it bothered you that much. I just thought it was better to let you sleep," he explained, his voice sincere and filled with understanding. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel like I was avoiding a goodbye."

His words were like a balm, soothing the frustration that had been building inside you. "I know you didn't mean it that way," you said, meeting his gaze. His eyes were full of earnestness, and you could see that he genuinely wanted to make things right. "But I want to feel like I'm part of your morning, too, even if it's just a quick kiss before you go."

He nodded, his eyes earnest and apologetic. "I get it. From now on, I'll make sure to wake you. I didn't know you felt left out."

A small smile tugged at your lips, the tension in the room dissipating "Thank you. I just want to be part of your routine, that's all."

Josh grinned, leaning in for another kiss, this one lingering and soft. "Consider it done," he promised, his voice a low rumble that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, the warmth of his lips on yours was reassuring.

As Josh moved to stand, ready to leave for work, an idea popped into your head. Without fully thinking it through, you reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him back toward the bed.

"Hey!" Josh laughed, caught off guard as he tumbled back onto the mattress beside you.

"What's this?"

Feeling a mix of shyness and boldness, you looked at him, your cheeks warming. "I was thinking...maybe a little extra time together before you go wouldn't hurt," you suggested, your voice soft but inviting.

Josh raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised but delighted. "Oh, really? I thought you'd want to go back to sleep," he teased, his voice playful as he shifted closer, his hand finding yours.

"I think I'm already awake enough," you replied, feeling more confident as you met his gaze, the familiar warmth and love reflecting back at you.

He chuckled, pulling you into his arms as you settled against him. "How can I say no to that?"

You found yourself on top of him, your bodies moving in a rhythm as old as time guided by instinct and desire. His touch was gentle, occasionally squeezing your hips and buttocks with a playful possessiveness that made you laugh softly against his lips.

The sound of your laughter mingled with the quiet gasps and sighs, creating a melody of love that filled the room.

Josh's voice broke the comfortable silence. "I really didn't mean to upset you, you know," he said softly, his eyes sincere.

"I know," you replied, your voice equally soft. "I just miss being part of your morning routine. Even a small goodbye would mean a lot to me."

light filtering through the curtains wrapped around you both like a warm embrace, casting a gentle glow that seemed to mirror the feelings swelling in your heart.

As you leaned in, the first touch of his lips against yours was electric, igniting a spark that raced through your veins.

His kiss was gentle at first, a tender exploration, as if rediscovering the familiar contours and taste that he cherished so much.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, tasting and teasing, drawing out a response that was both immediate and fervent. There was something intoxicating about the way he kissed you, a blend of passion and tenderness that made you feel cherished and desired. It was as if he were savoring the very essence of you, each kiss a promise and a testament to the love you shared.

Your lips met again. The kiss was tender at first, a gentle exploration, but soon deepened, a dance of tongues that communicated what words could not.

Josh's hands traveled over your body, fingers grazing your skin with a featherlight touch that sent shivers up your spine. Occasionally, his hands would rest on the curve of your hips, squeezing gently as if to reassure himself that you were real, that this moment was happening.

His touch was both tender and assured, as though he were an artist and you were his masterpiece. He explored with an intimacy that spoke of familiarity and affection, mapping every curve and line with the skill of someone who knew and adored every inch of you.

Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the dark strands as you pulled him closer, deepening the connection.

You let out a soft moan, a sound of pure delight that only encouraged him further.

Your hands moved over his chest, tracing his happy trail and the lines of his muscles.

Lips departed from yours, embarking on a tantalizing journey along your jawline, leaving a trail of electrifying kisses in their wake. The heat of his breath against your skin sent ripples of pleasure coursing through you, drawing you closer to him, as if pulled by some invisible force.

"I want..." Josh started, breathing unevenly, "I really want your tongue..."

You smiled softly with a nod, happy with Josh's request.

"Shift up, then," you suggested, sitting up to allow Josh to move, and he obliged, moving up on the bed to give you more space to home yourself between his thighs. Josh moaned softly as he watched you crawl up between his legs until your face was in line with his cock.

You leaned down to press a kiss against the throbbing, leaking tip,

Josh bit his lip and held his breath as your tongue peeked out between your lips to greet the sensitive head, lapping up the precum that was already collecting at the tip following your incessant teasing.

"You're teasing me," Josh stammered, screwing his eyes shut as you gazed up at him, tongue still running up and along the firm ridges of his length.

He pouted at your cruelty before you winked and wrapped your lips around the head, sinking your hot wet mouth down until your nose was flush with the base of Josh's cock.

He was beyond devastated. He grunted as you swallowed around his length, stuffing your face with his size. The scorching vision that had only ever existed in his imagination was now a breathtaking reality.

You slid your lips off after a pause, gasping for air as a string of saliva kept your lips connected to Josh's meat.

"I like this," you giggled, ducking down to leave open-mouthed kisses along Josh's length from the base, up the side of it, then to the head again, sucking the tip into his mouth once more. You loved the way his thighs shake after doing such things.

Josh shut his eyes again, avoiding your eye contact as you bobbed his head up and down, afraid to come way too soon and disappoint you.

Relentless as ever, your assault left him no respite. His fists clenched the blankets with a vice-like grip, knuckles white with tension.

"Pull off," he shouted, hips twitching when you moved your mouth away from him and looked at his face perplexed.

He sat up on the bed to restore your old position on top of him.

Josh's hands roamed over your body, tracing the curves of your sides before settling on your hips.

His fingers lingered there, a gentle pressure that pulled you closer until your bodies were perfectly aligned.

Your hips moved together, a slow, deliberate motion that mirrored the rising and falling of your breaths. You felt the heat of his skin against yours, each movement sending a ripple of pleasure coursing through you.

His hands slid up your back, fingers tracing the line of your spine before settling on your shoulders, drawing you down to him.

His lips found your neck, planting a series of soft kisses that made you shiver with delight. You felt his breath against your skin as your bodies moved together

His hands moved down to your thighs, squeezing gently as you rocked together. As the tempo of your movements increased, so did the intensity of the sensations, each one building upon the last until you were both lost in the shared rhythm of your bodies.

His lips found yours again, capturing them in a kiss that was both passionate and tender, a reflection of the bond you shared.

You lost track of time, caught up in the whirlwind of sensation and emotion that surrounded you.

Pressing your forehead to his, you feel the sticky sweat that binds you. Josh's heaving breath mixing with yours as you both come down from the intensity of your releases.

He followed almost immediately when your hole clenched around him, making you even tighter. He whined loudly and after a few more hard thrusts, he came.

Josh's brown eyes shine bright with pleasure- a contented sigh spilling from you both before you slowly disengage.

It's filled with lasting touches, long looks and warm smiles.

"Do you want to play a bit of your game before I go?"

The sound of your intertwined laughter, punctuated by soft gasps and sighs, filled the room.

"Won't you be late for work?" you asked while still panting, sweat starting to drip down your forehead, but you remained tight against his side.

"They never notice my presence anyway," he replied, panting and still trying to regulate his breathing.

You couldn't help but smile at his laid-back attitude, already in the process of reaching for the controller.

Note: Sorry if the start was boring and I probably went off-topic from the request. I just saw the chance to talk about something I enjoy as a personal video gamer and couldn't resist. :)

If you liked this story, please leave a comment. I love reading them! <3

[purpleenma]

This is not my typical art or meme post but a doubt surfaced in the Mcspirk Discord server about TarsusIV and if Kirk was on the list to die or to survive. So I made a kind of shallow dive in the net to see if I was able to find an answer, and I could say I did, but boy did I also find something I was absolutely NOT expecting.

For the record canon or alpha canon in Star Trek is what we see in the shows themselves.

(Some people may include here scriptwriters or directors publications/comments and interviews relating their work on the show and their intentions while making it, in general any of the key people that contributed to the canon we see in the shows. For others this is considered beta canon so it's a kind of grey area.)

Beta canon is all the rest under the Star Trek brand; novels, videogames, manuals, comics, etc.

Having established that more or less, here we go:

In alpha canon the answer to if Kirk was in the list to die or survive is; "it's tricky" xD

Memory Alpha in all accounts points to him being one of the other 4000 people that survived the mass execution, although it is not exactly specified that he was on any list to survive. There were previous scripts where Jim says he was, but it was scrapped among other things. Still, if Kodos executed the 4000 colonists all together in the antimatter chamber, and we haven't heard of any escapees or switches between people, I think it's safe to say he was on the list of survivors. However, I think it's important to note that we don't know if later Kodos just chilled, ordered more people killed or there were more deaths due to his ruling the more the situation became dire. And we also don't know how long he lasted in charge, since I couldn't find an exact time when help arrived either; it just states it arrived earlier than expected but too late to save the 4000 killed. So we can't be certain how much time elapsed from the mass execution till help finally got there.

Kirk is listed as a survivor of the TarsusIV Massacre, that encompasses all the struggle since what would be the uprise of Kodos and ordering those executions, till the unknown time later when help finally arrived. But we seem to be left to wonder if he could have been sought for later executions or persued in any way. In fact when we think back at what happened to his friend Tom Leighton, who was also a survivor and one of the nine witnesses, it is understood the damage to the side of his face either was caused by Kodos himself or took place during the massacre at least, maybe caused by Kodos enforcers.

Since we don't know exactly what happened and for how long after the mass execution, we can't be sure what or who was the cause. Like most of it, it's left to interpretation. But when you get into account that him, along with Jim and Kevin Riley, who were all rather young then, are from the few people who could identify Kodos because they saw his face, added to his wounds, makes you think that at least there was some big turmoil and, be it on purpose or not, these kids ended either in Kodos presence himself when most didn't even know his face, or could retrieve that photo we see in the TOS episode from Kodos' headquarters or some other important place that may store such data. As one ST Discovery novel (beta canon) suggests and also tells us more of what transpired after the execution.

So yes, alpha canon, or "the" canon left it ambiguous on purpose, since any intent to specify was scrapped before the TOS episode Conscience of the King was produced.

But here is where it gets juicy; beta canon (specifically Memory Beta) tells a very different story, one that made me have to read the paragraph twice and fact check because wtf xD

Two novels you'll see listed in the screenshot detail that Kirk was, in fact, on the list to die, but he escaped, saving Kevin Riley while he was at it. And not only that, but that Kirk was saved by SAREK who MELDED with him to erase the memory, because he also saved KODOS and gave him his new identity (wtf Sarek? You did that because you thought it was the logical thing to do or how come?? This could have tremendous implications...)

I don't know if any of you guys knew this but I sure didn't and the fic potential for this is unimaginable xD Maybe many of those that made Tarsus fics including Spock and/or Sarek there are based on this piece of beta canon but yeah, shocking.

I'm aware that Shatner touches on more about what happened in TarsusIV in some of the ST novels he wrote, like "Star Trek: Academy #1 Collision Course" and the "Autobiography of James T Kirk". For the latter I believe I read an excerpt some time ago that talked about riots and the situation getting really violent, but I couldn't find any information in this small search and I don't have the spoons to read the book right now, so take it with a grain of salt.

In the end it is all up for interpretation and you can go either way, but you sure get some interesting details in the various levels of canon xD

[toms-cherry-trees]

Story Of Us|| John Shelby x Reader

Summary: Love is not always ideal. It comes hand on hand with grief

Word Count: 4000

Warnings: Infant/maternal death, grief, teen pregnancy, angst

Author’s note: Nothin to see here, move forward to the story. This took me 2 hours to write and I didn’t proofread one bit

John had always lived in a dilemma. Ever since his dad walked out on them, he tried to get approval from his family, the one thing he never received as a child.. But he only ended up being scolded. When he had to crack the news that he had knocked up Martha, both being just fifteen years of age, Polly hit him across the head with a wooden spoon, and Arthur had to hide him from Martha’s father, who had come for him with a musket.

John and Martha knew they were too young, but they were in love the way only teenagers can be, and the only way they would be allowed together was this. With a baby and the obligation to marry to preserve Martha’s honour. They were wed three months after the musket incident, Martha dressed in a borrowed white dress which did little to hide her rounded bump, and John stuffed in one of his father’s old suits, hastily tailored by Polly. Only the groom’s family was in attendance, since Martha’s father had kicked her out of the house.  

Four months later a boy had been born in John’s own bed; a squirming, chubby thing with the most powerful lungs in the whole of Birmingham. Two more babies came in quick succession, another boy and another girl.

And then came the war.

In the time between their rushed marriage and 1914, John had managed to make more or less a living for himself. He had gotten his own home, being able at last to move Martha and the kids out of the cramped quarters of the family home. And they had a young girl from the area helping Martha rear the kids. Life seemed as perfect as it could get until the war struck and the war office came looking for them. Even though the conscription was voluntary at first, it would only be a matter of time before they came and dragged them out of their homes by their feet. John tested his luck as much as he could, even after Tommy and Arthur had already joined the front. But he had started to get dirty looks whenever he left the house, and one morning he woke up to his doorstep filled with chicken feathers. So he went, and left Martha with the kids and the nanny to hold up the fort in his absence.

None of them could know for certain how long they would be away, and it was worrisome to think it could be years before they returned, if they ever did, while the women in their lives were left to fend for themselves. Being granted leave to go home was a privilege mostly reserved for officers, and with John’s explosive nature and cockiness, he spent many months penalised without leave. The first time he managed to go home, in the second half of 1915, Martha and the kids had thrown themselves at his legs and his neck, unwilling to let him go.

In the two weeks he spent in Birmingham, he left Martha with child yet again. The news arrived with delay, as they do when you receive mail in the battlefield, and even more when said letters are heavily monitored by the officers. The letter had been sent a month and a day before it made it into his hands, but the news were not any less joyous, although tinted with a pang of guilt of not being there to support his wife. But John played his part, behaving like a good soldier for once in order to receive leave in time to see his newborn. They estimated the date for the first half of May 1916, a glorious spring.

But the thing is, letters carrying bad news move just as slow and delayed as the good ones. Even slower so, since the war office ordered anything that could tamper with the soldiers’ morale and spirits to be suppressed. John made the entire journey home, on truck, ship and train, only to find Martha had passed 4 weeks before his arrival, alongside their newborn girl. Polly had intercepted him on the train station, having seen him descend from the platform on her way from the market. The toothy grin tugging on his lips slowly fell into a frown as Pol grabbed his arm and practically tugged him into an alley to give him a resumed version of the events, but John didn’t want to hear. He didn’t care how, or why, or when. He only knew, as the ground swayed beneath his feet, that his sweet, lovely wife had left this world without him by his side, and had taken their babe with her to not be alone. Leaving John, aged 22, with a broken heart and 3 young children in the middle of a never ending war.

Polly and Tommy, who also happened to be on leave at that time, had made arrangements for everything after Martha’s passing. Polly had wanted to take in the children herself, to keep them under her wing. But when she even tried to take them out of the house, they clung to their nanny’s skirts like a lifeline, refusing to even step an inch away. Pol understood quickly that having just lost their mother and being in permanent threat of also losing their father, she couldn’t rip them away from the only stable person in their lives. So the girl, having grown deeply fond of her wards, moved into the home full time to look after them in every way a mother would, since the children had grown to love her like one.

When John returned home, he expected to find a gloomy and deserted place, with the hearth cold and empty and lamps out, much like he felt inside his own head. But of course reality rarely matches the expectations, whether good or bad. The children were laughing, playing with some wooden figurines on the carpet. Aged seven, five and three, they were already a force to be reckoned with, being able to mess a room in the blink of an eye. Yet here they were, playing happily under the caring gaze of their nanny. The four of them were startled by his arrival, with the kids scrambling over each other to jump into his arms, knocking over a chair and a side table, sending a vase with daisies crashing down. Home sweet home.

~

That night, after the kids were put to bed, John sat near the fireplace, nursing a glass of whiskey in his hands. Martha always warned him when the drinks began piling up on the table and his head; her voice whispering in his mind kept him from bringing the liquid to his lips, no matter how desperately he craved the numbness only spirits can provide.

You walked out of the kitchen, untying the apron from your waist. Most of the house chores were neglected during the day, since every waking hour was filled with rearing the little Shelbys. The oldest, David, would be starting school very soon, but you didn’t see how that would come to be, since he refused to be away from you for long. The youngest, Sarah, spent most of her day perched on your hip, although at 2 years of age she was already getting too heavy to carry. Theo, who had just turned five, acted as middle children often do, keeping mostly to himself and showing himself to be independent.

You hadn’t noticed John sitting there, since he was slumped on the floor, his head propped on the sofa and his legs splayed before him. His boots were nowhere to be found and his shirt discarded aside, leaving him only in undershirt. You would have just walked past him if he hadn’t called your name.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes Mr. Shelby?”

“Sit here for a little bit”

Perplexity was not quite the word to describe what you felt, but it came close enough. You had never been afraid of your boss; he and Martha had offered you a job when you most needed it, and they even treated you as a friend, since you were only a year younger than them. You were the one who mediated between them when things got tense, as often happened when very young people were thrusted abruptly into adult life; resentment inevitably building up on the grave of robbed childhood and dreams. And you were the one who took the kids out of the house when they inevitably made peace with each other.

But the situation had changed; the wife dead, the husband away, and you had basically become owner and lady of the home in the meantime, forced to step up for the babies you had known nearly since the cradle. Perhaps taking attributions that didn’t belong to you, but everything done with the best intentions in your heart.

You sat in the armchair farthest away from him, your body perched on the very edge of the seat and your legs laced at the ankles.

John doubted his words, still swirling the whiskey in the glass. Not a tear had left track on his cheeks, but the corners of his eyes were reddened, like those of a man who had learned, either willingly or by force, to hold back emotions.

“Were you here when…when Martha…” The phrase was left hanging in the air

“Yes I was. I had been staying full time already, in case the baby came at night”

Silence. Words slowly dawning on his mind fogged by barely contained grief.

He swallowed thickly “What happened?”

You closed your eyes and breathed in slowly. You knew he would eventually ask, but you hoped he wouldn’t ask you. The desire to know something could turn almost morbid the longer the answer was denied, but you didn’t want to give the grisly details with the wound so fresh, so you hoped he would content with the shortened version.

“The baby came too early, more than a month. And then it got stuck, and the labour dragged on for too long. The girl was….born sleeping. She named her Katie. And then Mrs Shelby caught an infection” You stopped there, hoping the vague narration would be enough explanation so you could avoid the more sensible details.

John nodded slowly, his gaze only fixated in his whiskey glass “Did she…did she say anything? Before she…”

“Mr. Shelby…” You protested, not believing him ready to hear it all

“Just say it!” The words came a lot more harshly than he intended, but they had been dropped and couldn’t be taken back.

You nodded and looked down at your lap, fidgeting with your apron “She told me to look after her babies. And to look after you. She told me we should not be sad for long, because she hated sad faces and life was sad enough as it was and her loved ones had to live happy lives on her behalf. She only asked…she asked that we made sure her kids never forgot about her” Your lower lip trembled. Holding her hand as life slipped away from her had been traumatic for you as well; like watching your own older sister die under your watch.

Your last words broke something inside John. At first, barely perceptible, his lower lip trembled and his eyes glazed while he pondered over his wife’s last words. Then all of a sudden the floodgates opened, tears coursing freely down his cheeks as sobs racked his body. The glass fell and shattered, and you, always acting on maternal instinct, tried to pull him away from the carpet so he wouldn’t land his hand on the shards. But in the brief second your hands touched him, John clung to your waist in the same fashion his eldest son did when he had a nightmare. The force of his embrace pulled you down on the floor, his head burrowed on your lap and his fingers digging on the fabric of your blouse. You had no words to console him, for sometimes, there is no real consolation. So you did the best you could, which was letting him cry out his sorrow and anger in the same apron that had wiped his children’s tears; while you rubbed soothing circles in his back. John cried it all out until his tears had run dry and his frantic heartbeat stilled. Crying is usually followed by drowsiness, and before you knew it your boss had fallen asleep on your lap, soothed by the faint scent of lavender on your clothes. You didn’t want to move him and disrupt the feeble stillness of peace, so you sat there all night, your head perched on the sofa and your hand on his back, dwelling on the creaking of the fire in the hearth.

~

It couldn’t be helped, the way the bond you and John had of mere friendship morphed into something else. Ever since Martha’s passing, John had managed to squeeze pity out of the war office, being granted leave more often than others to see his children. In the meantime, you took marvellous care of them, and they loved you maybe even more than they loved him.

The way he became drawn to you may seem rushed, but it came from a place of grief. A man with his heart in tatters, finding comfort in the arms that hugged and cuddled his children. Every time he returned home on leave, his barely retained sorrow spilled out the second he crossed the threshold of his home and the memories came crashing like an avalanche. Instead of getting better, he seemed to slowly grow worse. Could it be the grief, could it be the war, seeing his children more grown and mature every time he came, or a mixture of everything, but each leave it became harder to enter his home, and at the end it became harder to return to the front.

John spent many hours of his day locked in his bedroom, splayed on his bed accompanied by a whiskey, inhaling the fading scent of lotion on Martha’s nightgown. More than once you had to threaten to break in through the window in order to coax John into coming out and eating. The children barely noticed his behaviour, far too accustomed to his absence by now, but it pained you to see him miss out on every precious second he could spend with his family, knowing well it could be the last. Not wanting to be mindless of his pain, you gave him a few days to settle and then forced him out of the shell. No one would be called to dine until he came to sit with you all; you would go out to shop alone, making him watch the kids; if one of them had a nightmare at night, you knocked on his door and made him go and lull them back to sleep. You knew it was hard for him, but this is what Martha would have wanted. She wanted John to carry on living, and that he would do, with you behind to support him.

But you never expected to catch feelings in the process. Never had you thought about him as any more than your boss and friend, not before Martha and certainly not after. But looking after him, being his strength at home, even more so than his blood family, it is hard for feelings to not get tangled in the middle. You were the one who saw him sob his eyes out over a picture in the middle of the night: the one who bandaged his hands when he beat the wall in a fit of rage over the unfairness of life, and the one who kept that little family up and running.

On one of his last leaves, in October of 1918, he had, for the first time, sat with all of you for dinner on his first back home without threats or begging. As you served the stew, John cleared his throat to call attention “Tomorrow we are going out. It is a little surprise, but I promise we will have fun”

The children jumped in excitement. It had been far too long since they had all gone out as family, and the prospect of a day out with dad was the best outlook ever. You smiled as you poured a glass for John “What time do you need the kids ready, Mr Shelby?”

“Everyone ready at 10, and I mean everyone. You are coming with us of course, it is a family day”

Your breath hitched in your throat and heat rose to your cheeks, but you just nodded, hiding your shyness behind your glass. The next day the five of you went to an apple orchard, right on time as the sweetest fruits were being harvested. The children ran rampant across the field with wicker baskets, collecting dropped fruits which they would be able to exchange at the end of the day for candy. John and you followed closely behind, both in silence but enjoying the sounds of nature and the laughter of the kids. The autumn leaves crunched beneath your feet making a most delicious sound. For a day, you could all pretend that war had never happened and life was more or less normal. At the end, the children dropped the apples in big wooden troughs, and in exchange were given toffee apples. John bought you two pints of cider which you drank together, sitting under a tree while watching the children play with other kids and trying to sneak more candied apples from the stand

“Look at that, David stole an apple” Far from being outraged, you found the situation amusing “He is your son alright”

John chuckled “Are you insinuating I am a thief, Miss (Y/N)”

“Martha told me all the tales of your youth, Mr. Shelby. Stealing candy is one thing, but stealing liquor from a bar is an extraordinary prowess” You smirked

John’s demeanour dropped ever so slightly at the name, but he was quick to pick himself up “I miss her. She should be here watching the children grow. There should be a toddler here with us, and another baby on the way”

“Missing is part of grieving” You patted his hand “It means you lived and loved. Even if you stop grieving you’ll never stop missing”

John pondered over your words, staring at the bottom of his pint “Thank you for being here…if you hadn’t been here, we would all have fallen apart. I would have fallen apart but you glued me back together out of your pure stubbornness so I would be there for me kids” John squeezed your hand “You have saved us all”

You chuckled “Saviour is a bit too far I’d say. But I am glad I could be of help. You are a good man John, and you deserve good things” It dawned on you a second too late that you had called him by his first name. The apologies were already piling in your tongue but John laughed it out “Seven bloody years it took you to call me John”

You could only join in on his infectious laughter, feeling the worries flutter away. It had been a while since he last laughed, and you took it as a sign of his healing. The rest of the evening went in a blissful blur, with you two sharing bites of an apple while he picked fallen leaves off your hair, and having to haul all three kids home in your arms, them too tired to walk. John surprised you with having stuffed his coat’s wide pockets with apples, and you surprised him in return with a homemade apple pie.

You enjoyed every day of his leave, dreading the moment he would once more part. The children had, now that they were older, come to resent his absences, and it always broke them a little to have him return only to leave, perhaps forever, over and over and over again. But one the last day, right before being due to leave, John arrived back after being out all morning, loaded with parcels and gifts. He had received news from the war office to not return to his post, for truce would be called in less than a week. The men would return home and the nightmare would be over.

“Tonight we celebrate like never before!”

Everyone received presents that day. The children received toys, John sent gifts for his aunt and siblings, and he even bought you a new dress. That night you feasted like you had never before, the evening topped with a marvellous store bought cake and the children falling asleep earlier than usual, stuffed with turkey and cake. After they were put to bed, it was only John and you before the fire, passing back and forth a bottle of champagne. The day was for joy and celebration and all boundaries had been torn down. You two were laughing just for the sake of laughter and the relief of having survived hell.

“So what happens now, once the Shelbys are back on track?” You inquired curiously “Business as usual?”

“I reckon men will be eager to vent off steam and enjoy the things they missed out. I promise the den will be up to the beams with patrons. Future is looking bright” He took a swing of the bottle, foam trickling down the side of his lip. You reached up to wipe the liquid with the back of your hand. John eyed you curiously before bringing up a far different topic.

“Have you thought about getting married?”

You did very poorly in hiding your surprise “Me? Married? Why do you ask?”

He simply shrugged “You are a lovely young lady, in the prime of your life. Surely don’t you plan on spending the rest of your days taking care of other people’s kiddos?”

A smirk tugged on your lips “Are you planning on firing me, Mr. Shelby?”

“Wouldn’t dare to, love. Just wanting to know if someone is knocking at your heart”

Oh someone was knocking at your heart at the very moment. Your heartbeat hammered your ribs, ready to escape off your chest out of your mouth. “No one is, Mr. Shelby”

Those words had barely made it out when his lips came crashing into yours, his warm hand cradling your jaw, the other placed in the middle of your back and pulling you close. His lips were soft and gentle, and his hands kept a firm grip on you. Your own hands came to lay on his chest, feeling his fluttering heartbeat under your touch. The kiss seemed to last forever and nothing at the same time. When he pulled away you were out of breath, but also wanted to keep going until time ended. When John broke the kiss, he remained close enough to lean his forehead on yours.

“I didn’t screw it up, did I?” A boyish grin played on his lips.

“Not one bit, not at all” Your index traced the side of his jaw, feeling the muscles tense as his smile widened

“So you won’t mind it I test my luck again” And just like that, his lips once more came onto yours, this time both hands on your waist as your arms came around his neck. It was funny, but in that moment you knew, after just one kiss, that you never wanted to kiss any other lips but his, nor feel any other hands’ on your waist or your hair.

You knew his grieving had not come to an end, and he would continue to love his first wife to the end of his days. But that did not mean he did not have space in his heart for you, nor that he would feel for you any less. It only meant he had lived, and would continue to do so with you.

[lilcatdraws]

How would Joker feel if Y/n died? Can you write something for this?

My Everything

Ledger!Joker x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Death, mention of suicide, violence

Summary: Y/n is killed by one of Joker’s many enemies and as we can all predict, J loses his everloving mind

Author’s Note: Thank you thank you thank you for this request beloved anon!!!! This has been my favorite thing I’ve ever written so far. And also the longest I’ve wrote in one sitting. I’m so proud of myself, I wrote almost 4000 words! I need to do that more often.

This is going to be an angsty one. But it’s not all bad. My oc Matilda makes her debut and there’s a ton of bromance going on between J and his right hand man. As always, enjoy! <3

Taglist: @alittlesmartcookie @unholiiness

“She’s gone…she’s…she’s…” Joker mumbled to himself.

The phone slipped out of his hand and clattered onto the floor. He sat down on a chair and stared out into space, disassociating. 

Frost noticed his boss from across the room. He knew those distant eyes from anywhere. It only meant trouble.

“Boss! Boss! Snap out of it!” He shouted.

Joker jumped up out of the chair. He grabbed Frost by his shirt collar and shook him in anger.

“What the fuck happened, Frost?! How did they get to her?!” Joker thundered.

“I-I don’t know! There’s no way they could’ve gotten past the security we set up. I’m just as shocked as you are!” Frost pleaded his case.

Joker grumbled and released him, sending him tumbling to the floor. Frost was right. Nothing was out of the ordinary. The security and all the cameras J had set up for your apartment were all working fine that day.

Joker stormed into the control room with Frost tagging along right behind him. He scanned the footage from that day and stopped when he saw movement around 2 pm. No wonder the cameras didn’t catch anything. You had left the apartment.

He felt a sharp pang of guilt. He shouldn’t have left you alone for so long. If he had been home or nearby he could’ve saved you. 

Frost’s phone dinged and he glanced at it. He looked up at Joker gravely.

“They found her body. She’s in the boardroom.”

Joker didn’t say a word and marched straight out of the control room into the boardroom. He pushed open the double doors and walked up to the table. His henchmen backed away in fear. 

Your body was placed carefully on the table. You looked so pale, your hair was a mess, and you were splattered with blood. Clearly you didn’t go down without a fight. Joker felt a lump form in his throat. He hated himself for letting this happen to you.

As Joker observed, Frost came into the room behind him and motioned for the goons to leave before things got ugly. The men cleared out and Frost walked up to Joker. 

“Um, boss, what do we do now?” He asked.

Joker turned and looked at him solemnly. “I don’t know…”

They stared at the table in silence for a while. Joker couldn’t stand it. A surge of rage swept over him and he slammed his fist on the table, causing Frost to jump.

“Keep her here. I’m going out. I’ll figure out what to do with her later and give her a proper burial and all…” Joker trailed off.

Frost nodded.

Joker grabbed his jacket off of a hook on the wall, threw it on, and rushed out the doors. He had no idea where he was going but he had to get away from this. He ran down the sidewalk, his brain moving a hundred miles an hour. His worst fear had come true. You were taken from him in cold blood. 

The crisp Gotham night air burned in his lungs as he ran. Long before he donned his Joker persona, running had always helped him clear his head. The adrenaline was a temporary relief from the pain.

It was dark, not many people lived in this area, and he was wearing casual clothes so he didn’t have to worry about being seen. Not that he cared. Nothing mattered anymore.

Joker gave one last burst of energy and stopped, panting. He ended up on the west side of Gotham harbor. A bridge was a few feet ahead. He walked up to the railing and gazed out over the water. The moon cast a shimmering reflection on top.

He sighed. Nights like this reminded him so much of you. You loved to go on walks through the park or other scenic spots in Gotham on cool, clear nights, holding his hand and skipping down the sidewalk without a care in the world.

You were his light in the dark places, his rock, his everything. You showed him real genuine love and compassion. You made him feel alive again. Now you were gone and he would never forgive himself. 

He breathed heavily as he felt the intense emotions weigh down on him. His first response to your death was shock and then fury but now the reality of the situation hit him and he broke down. He felt his breathing hitch and tears form. He blinked them away with a snarl of disgust. He would not succumb to such weakness!

But he underestimated the effect you had on him and felt the anguish come surging back. Then Joker did something he hadn’t in years. 

He began to cry. 

It started out soft but the more the tears fell, the louder he wept. These tears were long overdue. So much pain over the years but he could only think about you. 

“Oh God, why? Why her?” Joker sobbed.

He looked out over the water again, letting his misty eyes wander down to the base of the bridge. The waves crashed against the stone pillars holding the bridge up. Clusters of giant rocks lined the two banks. It was at least 30 feet down.

He felt the sudden urge to jump. He rejected it at first. He wasn’t done yet. He still had many years of causing chaos left but then he thought of how different his life was going to be. 

No more beautiful smiles to come home to after a gruesome day’s work. No more warm cozy mornings spent cuddling with you. No more late night strolls at the park. No more shared laughter. No more y/n…

A life without you wasn’t worth living. So he went for it. He turned his back to the water, spread his arms out wide, looked to the sky, and fell backwards. He closed his eyes as he went over the railing. 

The sound of the crashing waves got closer and closer until…silence.

…

Joker opened his eyes and looked around groggily. He was strapped to a bed and hooked up to several things in Arkham’s infirmary. At first he didn’t fully grasp what he was seeing. Then it hit him. He regained his senses and jolted as upright as the restraints would allow him. He wriggled around and struggled against them.

A nurse came running in and grabbed his shoulders, trying to calm him down. Joker recognized her as Matilda.

“J, relax. It’s alright.” His favorite nurse said gently as she eased him back. 

“No, no, no! It’s not alright! It’s…it’s…” He struggled to get his words out and panted.

Matilda rubbed his back in another attempt to calm him. 

“You have got to calm down, honey. You’re hooked up to a heart monitor. It starts going off and they’re all gonna come running in here like chickens with their heads cut off.” 

Joker breathed in and out and tried to think clearly. His head was spinning with a sensory and information overload.

“Why am I here? What happened?” He blurted out.

“They found you at the bottom of the bridge at the harbor last night. You jumped.” Matilda responded calmly. 

Joker groaned as the events from the previous day came back to him. He woke up thinking it was all just one horrible nightmare but once again reality came crashing down. 

“Why did you do it?” Matilda asked.

Joker looked up at her with sorrowful watery eyes. The older woman had never seen such a look on his scarred face before. 

“My sweet girl, my y/n, she’s…she’s dead.” He mumbled.

He was delirious with grief. Matilda could see that now. Under normal circumstances, he would never have shown such emotion. 

And hold up, the Joker in love with someone? It seemed so unbelievable. Throughout all of his time in Arkham he’d never once mentioned this girl to Matilda. Most likely to keep her safe and hidden.

“Who was y/n? A lover? A girlfriend?” Matilda questioned him.

“She was my everything…my special treasure that made me feel again. She never hurt anybody. She didn’t deserve this.” 

“I’m so sorry, J. She sounded like a wonderful person. Listen, I know you’re still grieving but try not to think about it too much. You need to rest. You hit those rocks pretty hard. It’s a miracle you’re still alive.”

“But I can’t stop thinking about her. It feels like a part of me has been ripped out of my chest.” Joker whined.

“I know dear, but you mustn't dwell on it too much if you’re going to recover. Just lay here and rest. Your body will thank you for it.” 

“Okay…” Joker murmured as she pulled the blanket resting on his legs up over his chest and then left the room to finish her rounds. 

The rest of the day Joker laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. All he could think about was you. Your absence felt like a gaping hole in his heart.

A few other nurses came by throughout to check on him. He didn’t speak a word to them. They didn’t either. He let them do their job and get out. Normally he would torment them by being difficult or teasing them but this time he just didn’t have the energy. 

That evening he grew restless. 

What am I doing here moping around? I should be out there getting even!

It had just occurred to him that by giving up he was letting your murderer go free. Why hadn’t he thought of this before? He would not allow that. He was extremely glad he didn’t die. Even if he didn’t think of it when caught up in the moment, it would haunt him forever that your killer got away.

Sofia Falcone and her lackeys would pay. But first, Joker needed to escape.

He waited until a young nurse came in a little later to give him a sedative that would help him sleep. Before she could prepare the syringe, he looked up at her innocently. 

“Um, nurse, can you loosen these straps? They’re really botherin’ me.” He asked nicely.

The nurse laughed to herself. “Ha. You think I’m gonna loosen your restraints? No way. Nice try though.”

“Please? Just a little bit…” He said and stared her down with his big pleading brown eyes. This was when his handsomeness really came in handy. 

The nurse sighed. “Well, okay. But only a little bit.”

She bent down and loosened the buckles on his wrists a notch or two. When she came back up, Joker head butted her and she collapsed onto the ground. 

He slipped his hands free from the straps and unbuckled his feet. Then he unhooked himself from the different monitors and quickly took his IV out. He grabbed the nurse’s badge and keys and sprinted out the door. 

Luckily, the infirmary was close to the back entrance so he could get out much faster than if he was coming from his cell. He dashed down the stairs to the ground level and through the halls, shoving a few nurses out of the way as he went. He had a small limp in his leg but other than that he was able to run just fine.

How did I survive that fall? He thought as he ran. 

He made it to the double doors of the back entrance and used the nurse’s badge for the identification scanner that unlocked them. Regardless, someone must have reported him because the alarm went off anyway. So much for stealth.

“Screw this.” Joker muttered and ran into the parking lot. 

He used the nurse’s car keys to find which one was hers. A small white car flashed in response. It wasn’t much but it would have to do. He hurried over to it, climbed in, started the engine, and took off. He made it to the gate and sped through just as another car came through the opening. The guard stationed there just sat there dumbfounded.

Joker flew across the bridge and into the mainland where the cops were waiting. He groaned loudly in frustration but kept going. He drove straight towards them as bullets whizzed past his head through the windshield and the windows. Then he made a sharp turn and went around the blockade of cars. 

The police hopped in their cars and sped after him. Joker weaved in and out of other cars as he drove into the city. He made turn after turn and took back alley after back alley, trying to lose them. Finally, he crashed into a dumpster in an alleyway, crawled out of the car, and hopped the fence before the cops could get there. 

He ran down the sidewalk, unsure of what to do now. He hadn’t planned this far ahead. There was a very high chance they were going to catch him and drag his ass back to Arkham. He couldn’t let that happen.

Suddenly a black car pulled up beside him. The driver rolled down the window and shouted, “Get in!” 

Joker breathed a sigh of relief and climbed in. It was Frost, there to save the day like always. Frost made a quick glance to the passenger seat as he sped off. Joker was wearing white scrubs, no makeup, his hair was everywhere, he was covered in bruises, his forehead had a bandaged gash on it, and his lip was busted.

Frost chuckled. “You look like shit.”

“I’m aware…” Joker grumbled.

“I saw the escape on the news so I figured you needed some help. And I also saw that you, uh, well…I’m just glad you’re still here, boss.”

“Aw, quit your blubbering and drive, Frost. I’m fine. I won’t try it again. Y/n wouldn’t want me to.”

Frost nodded and looked into the side mirror. The cops had gone in the other direction so he slowed down a bit. A few minutes later he made it to the hideout. He pulled into the garage and parked. 

Joker thrust the door open and made a beeline for his office/sometimes living space. He desperately wanted to get cleaned up and change his clothes. He shut his office door and flung the closet open. There were spare suits and casual clothes hanging in there. He grabbed his signature purple suit and laid it out on the desk to change into. 

He walked into the built-in bathroom in his office and locked the door. He ripped the bandage off his head and examined the gash. 

Yeesh. That’s nasty. He thought as he threw the gauze away. 

He turned on the shower and stripped off as he waited on the water to warm up. He looked at his body in the mirror. His body was dotted with bruises and small cuts. He still had no clue how he survived that fall.

Once the shower was ready, Joker hopped in and started washing himself off. He didn’t know why but Arkham always made him feel dirty. Whether it be the combined smell of bleach and vomit or those itchy patient scrubs. 

The hot water stung his wounds a little but Joker relished in it. The water comforted him and soothed his aching muscles. The last two days had been hell. This was a temporary escape from his current circumstances.

Joker finally returned to the real world and shut off the water. He staggered out and dried himself off. Then he secured a bandaid on the gash and slathered white paint over it, quickly reapplied his makeup, and dyed his hair green again. When he was done he wrapped the towel around his waist and walked back into his office. He dressed himself, careful not to smudge his makeup too much.

He went to the lounge room, where Frost was sitting on the couch drinking some coffee. He looked up and waited for Joker to speak.

“Go call everyone together for a meeting. We’re nailing that bitch.” Joker ordered gruffly.

“Yes sir.” Frost replied and hopped to it. 

Not long after, the goons were all seated in the boardroom as Joker had requested. He walked in and the whole room fell silent. All eyes were on him. He cleared his throat.

“As some of you are already aware, something very important to me has been…taken. Sofia Falcone is responsible. And as you all know, we’ve been waging in a bit of a war for years now. I did a pretty good job eliminating Gotham’s mob but then she came along and rebuilt her father’s empire, encouraging others to rebuild and ruining all my hard work. This is the final straw. We’re going to storm her headquarters tonight and destroy it along with everyone inside.”

The men cheered but quickly silenced themselves when both Joker and Frost glared at them.

As Joker laid out the plans, Frost couldn’t help but feel a knot of fear turn his stomach. The Falcones were dangerous. It was a suicide mission. The majority of the goons were probably going to get killed. Joker knew that but it didn’t matter. He had to avenge y/n or die. Frost came to terms with it, deciding it was a noble cause.

Once everyone was armed and ready to go, they all piled into the four black cars lined up in the garage. Joker and Frost got in the last car in line and took off. To not draw attention to themselves by traveling as a group, the cars each headed out in different directions but were all going to the same place. When they reached the Falcone base of operations (an abandoned club), the cars pulled in towards the back of the building. They walked up to the door and waited for Joker’s instructions.

Joker stood up on the steps and looked over all of his men.

“Shoot to kill, boys. But Sofia is mine.” He growled.

Frost kicked in the door and stepped aside. The goons stormed in and began shooting at everything. Sofia’s men were caught off guard so many of them were killed instantly while others had a delayed reaction. Groups of Joker’s men moved into other rooms to attack. Blood and debris was strewn through the air. Men were dying left and right and more so of Sofia’s than Joker’s.

Joker stood back and watched the chaos ensue with satisfaction. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of reddish brown hair stream down the hall adjacent to the back room. He made eye contact with Frost who caught on fast. They both went in different directions to seal off both ends of the hall.

Sofia and her bodyguard were trapped in the middle. Sofia dashed back into her office while the bodyguard blocked the doorway. He went to fire at Joker but Joker was too fast and killed the bodyguard with a quick flick of his pistol. 

Joker came inside and slammed the door shut, locking it. Frost stayed out and went back to overseeing the goons. Sofia crouched behind her desk in fear. 

“J-Joker, please! I’m sorry about having your girl killed, honest! Maybe we cut a deal- Aaaah!”

Joker didn’t even let her finish. He grabbed her by her hair and pulled her close to his face. He unsheathed his knife and held it between her lips. Trembling with pure rage, he steadied his hand and bared the knife down on her cheek.

“You…took…EVERYTHING from me! She was innocent! She was not involved with any of this! How the hell did you even find her?!”

When Joker got this angry, he sounded demonic. Sofia’s eyes widened in fear. She gasped for air as Joker switched his other hand from her hair to her throat.

“ANSWER ME!”

Sofia cringed. “I…I have my s-sources.” She sputtered.

Joker took a deep breath to calm down and tightened his grip around her neck. 

“I’ve, uh, tolerated our little war over the years, taking hit after hit. You were a hated enemy but not my biggest concern. Now you’ve really gone and done it. I will not ignore you this time.” 

Sofia grunted and tried to wriggle free from his grip. Joker grinned sadistically. 

“You really need to smile more. Here…let me help!” 

He pressed his knife down and sliced upwards. Sofia cried out in pain. Joker laughed maniacally and loosened his grip on her. She kneed him in the groin and pushed him away. Joker brushed it off and shoved her to the ground. She grabbed his leg and pulled him down with her. They fought for what felt like forever. Punching, kicking, pulling hair, whatever they had to do to keep the other down. Sofia was a broad, muscular woman so she put up a good fight against Joker.

Finally Joker managed to gain the upper hand and pinned her down. He drew his pistol and pressed it to her temple. Sofia’s eyes widened in horror. Joker wasted no time and pulled the trigger. Blood splattered on the floor and her body went limp.

Joker stood up and decided this was enough. He left the office and went back to where the shootout was happening. There were still some of Sofia’s men left. Joker got in on the shooting and killed four of them. Frost took care of the rest. Joker gave him the signal for the next step of the plan. 

“Everybody out! Unless you wanna be burned to a crisp!” Frost shouted to the remaining goons.

They hurried out and piled back into the cars. Frost grabbed two gas cans sitting on the steps outside and handed one to Joker. They both poured them around the building, in every room. Joker purposely dumped some on Sofia’s body. 

He threw a few lit matches down on the ground to get the fire started. Then, once he and Frost were out on the steps, he took a grenade out of his coat, pulled the pin, and chucked it inside. 

Joker and Frost sprinted back to the car. Frost hopped in the driver seat and sped away. The others had already left. Joker looked over his shoulder at the burning building in the distance. It was completely engulfed in flames. He felt content with this outcome.

He successfully avenged you but he’d never be the same again.

[dufferpuffer]

~~ Looking at Lycanthropy ~~

Part 3: Regarding the 'Full Moon'...

There is something fucky with the transformation night in POA. I'm going to fine-toothed comb it, collect the extra information we get about Lycanthropy from it – and try to make sense of it all.

Words: Approx. 4000

Physical Symptoms (What he feels; what he does; what happens - factual.) Perceived Symptoms (How he seems to others, health focused) Social Perception (What people think of him; His social situation) Self Perception (What he thinks about himself) Timing Information Potion information

NIGHT OF THE TRANSFORMATION – Chapters 17 - 21 Note that there is adrenaline, stress, secrets, emotions whipping back and forth – dialogue is split between seven characters. Describing Lupin's symptoms takes a back-seat to exposition. For example: Lupin looking 'pale' in a quiet moment on the train is one thing... but in a high tension situation? It's more likely to be the mood of the setting rather than describing his illness. But I am listing his more erratic behaviour anyway. B^)

Chapter 17

Pg 244 + 245 The very last rays of the sun were casting a bloody light over the long-shadowed grounds. … … Light was fading fast now by the time they reached open ground, darkness was settling like a spell around them. … … But harry had just seen - slinking towards them, his body low to the ground, wide yellow eyes glinting eerily in the darkness - Crookshanks. … … Something was bounding towards them out of the dark - an enormous, pale-eyed, jet-black dog.

The sun is setting – and has set – long before Remus arrives. Interesting. More on this later.

pg 252 The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and Harry wheeled around as Professor Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione, cowering near to the door, to Harry, standing there with his wand covering Black, and then to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at Harry's feet. 'Expelliarmus!' Lupin shouted. Harry's wand flew once more out of his hand; so did the two Hermione was holding. … … Then Lupin spoke, in an odd voice, a voice that shook with some suppressed emotion. 'Where is he, Sirius?'

Remus barges into a room with Sirius, three children and supposedly Peter. He doesn't know whether Sirius or Peter are guilty – but he puts the safety of the children last by taking their wands and speaking to Sirius when there is at least one murderer in the room.

pg 253 'Hermione, listen to me, please!' Lupin shouted. 'I can explain-' … … There was a ringing silence. Everyone's eyes were now on Lupin, who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale. … … Ron made a valiant effort to get up again, but fell back with a whimper of pain. Lupin made towards him, looking concerned, but Ron gasped, 'Get away from me, werewolf!' Lupin stopped dead. Then, with an obvious effort, he turned to Hermione and said, 'How long have you known?' 'Ages,' Hermione whispered. 'Since I did Professor Snape's essay...' 'He'll be delighted.' said Lupin cooly. 'He set that essay hoping someone would realise what my symptoms meant. Did you check the lunar chart and realise I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realise the Boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?' 'Both,' Hermione said quietly. Lupin forced a laugh.

Remus is about to have his secret revealed – and for the first time shouts at the children. He is understandably terrified of them knowing, but as soon as its out returns right back to a forced, controlled calm... but the mask has slipped, and we can see underneath at his true feelings. Note that Ron's initial reaction is prejudice, like his mother.

pg 254 'You know how to work it?' Harry asked suspiciously. 'Of course I know how to work it,' said Lupin, waving his hand impatiently. 'I helped write it. I'm Moony - that was my friends' nickname for me at school.' … … 'How d'you know about the Cloak?' 'The number of times I saw James disappearing under it ...' said Lupin, waving an impatient hand again.

Harry is giving him a moment to explain himself, but he acts like THIS whenever asked a reasonable question...? Remus is waffling on about himself instead of Sirius, Peter – or making the kids safe. He is explaining what he feels is most important first: himself. Clawing back the trust and control he just lost instead of prioritizing the kids, or Sirius, or Peter.

Chapter 18

pg 256 'Sirius, NO!' Lupin yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging Black away from Ron again, 'WAIT! You can't do it just like that - they need to understand - we've got to explain -'

Lupin intends to commit kill on the rat – even though doing so would probably sentence him to Azkaban, or straight to a Kiss. He is ready to throw his life away but not before he makes sure the kids 'understand' him. There is a murderer in the room, one Lupin intends to kill – and yet he is prioritizing his image...? Also he is strong enough to hold a skinny, thin Sirius back. Not too surprising – so was a cat.

pg 257 Then Hermione spoke, in a trembling, would-be calm sort of voice, as though trying to will Professor Lupin to talk sensibly. 'But Professor Lupin ... Scabbers can't be Pettigrew ... it just can't be true, you know it can't...' 'Why can't it be true?' Lupin said calmly, as though they were in class, and Hermione had simply spotted a problem in an experiment with Grindylows.

Hermione I am sorry he is too far gone right now. Unreasonable.

pg 258 'The Shrieking Shack was never haunted... the screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me.' He pushed his greying hair out of his eyes, thought for a moment, then said, 'That's where all of this starts - with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten... and if I hadn't been so foolhardy...' He looked sober and tired.

The noises a werewolf makes are more similar to ghosts than wolves. He blames himself for... everything. Peter being a rat and a nasty git. Life would be good if he wasn't a werewolf? Ok, bro. Nice self loathing you've got there.

'I was a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The Potion that Professor Snape has been making for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform... I am able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again.' 'Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me.'

- He was a very young boy when bitten – and survived. We know that being bitten is no small matter, that another small boy has died from it. He is lucky, too, that his parents kept/stood by him. - Wolfsbane is not a cure – but it is a cure to the lack of control from it. (More on that in part 5). By calling it a cure, it is like he values the control it gives him most of all and wants the children to think of him as cured, at least cured from being dangerous... ...despite missing his dose today. - Wolfsbane 'makes him safe'; 'keeps his mind'; 'curls up in his office' a 'harmless waiting wolf'. How safe is a 'harmless wolf'...? How much of his mind does he keep...? Something more than a 'fully fledged monster', I suppose... - He couldn't expect to come to Hogwarts because other people would not accept him. While that is true – we know there are laws. We know he is the ONLY werewolf to have attended Hogwarts despite Fenrir making a point to bite children. There is a little more going on than just 'parent mad'. I think it is safe to say he is being hyperbolic. That he is a 'monster' normally, that he is 'a harmless wolf' on the potion, he couldn't go to school for a silly little reason like 'grown-ups hate him'... it's him pleading with the kids. He isn't lying but he is playing it up/down.

One piece of information I want to point out here: he 'curls up in his office, a harmless wolf, to wait for the moon to wane again'. Whether he wants to or not, whether he closes all the curtains and hides under the desk: He WILL transform.

pg 259 'My transformations in those days were - were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits.' … … 'And they didn't desert me at all. Instead they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi.'

First of all: jesus christ... werewolves scream like ghosts, like people. Second: Best times of his life. I wanna bring this up in a post about Patronus', why his is a wolf: Being a werewolf itself, when free to wander, seems to be a positive experience.

pg 260 'They couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals,' said Lupin. 'A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle every month under James's Invisibility Cloak. ... Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them.'

He is lying here – or oversimplifying – because he told Hagrid he didn't 'eat anything last night', as in didn't eat Buckbeak. There is something more going on that made being an Animagi safe. Something that, when running around with other 'human intelligent' animals, increased his capacity for control and intelligent thought. He no longer self-harmed when he had a 'pack'.

'Soon we were roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check.' … … 'That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?' 'A thought that still haunts me,' said Lupin heavily. 'And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless - carried away with our own cleverness.'

A stag and/or a large dog is similar in strength to a well-fed teenage werewolf... but not enough to ensure safety. The thought of losing control, of those near misses, haunts him... though he is about to have some near misses damn soon. He is being reckless again right now.

pg 261 'He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job, when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am.'

Thankful to have a job – it's unheard of to knowingly hire a werewolf.

Chapter 19

pg 263 'I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow,' said Snape, throwing the Cloak aside, careful to keep his wand pointing at directly at Lupin's chest. 'Very useful, Potter, I thank you...' 'I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your Potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along.'

Severus has just been to Remus' office. Remus didn't enter the Willow until it was already dark - and has spent a chapter and a half yapping. Severus felt confident entering Remus' office when the sun had set. Maybe he was just that desperate to reach him in the nick of time...? But Severus didn't bring the goblet with him to the Willow, even knowing the children were there. He has been antsy about Remus' Lycanthropy all year – but isn't forcing it down his throat...? He is far more concerned with Remus' actions as a human traitor then the potential of him being a wolf tonight. The invisibility cloak likely wouldn't work against a werewolf – but even if it did, sneaking around listening to Remus blabber on for minutes on end is hardly the actions of someone who thinks a transformation is potentially imminent.

'Two more for Azkaban tonight,' said Snape, his eyes now gleaming fanatically. 'I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this... he was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin... a tame werewolf...' pg 264/265 'Come on, all of you,' he said. He clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound Lupin flew into his hands. 'I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the Dementors will have a kiss for him, too –' … … 'Dont ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works,' hissed Snape.

A tame werewolf sounds like a joke to 'regular' people. They are considered, in some way, mentally unwell. Severus has bound Remus in magical cords – but I doubt that would be effective if he transformed. If they were then dealing with werewolves would be as simple as binding them. He is emotionally unstable, but being reasonable: immobilizing the threats and shepherding the children to safety. I doubt he, of anyone, would slip up so badly as to allow Remus to transform... which means he doesn't expect him to transform on the way to the castle.

pg 273 'Shall we kill him together?' 'Yes, I think so,' said Lupin grimly.

Lupin is so calm about killing Peter for revenge, even though it'll almost certainly get both him and Sirius put in Azkaban – if not Kissed, like Severus suggested. This is essentially a suicidal move. His last wish is for the children to understand him, and his motives, are more than monstrous.

pg 275 'You should have realised,' said Lupin quietly. 'If Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Goodbye, Peter.' … … 'Very well,' said Lupin. 'Stand aside, Harry.' Harry hesitated. 'I'm going to tie him up,' said Lupin. 'That's all, I swear.'

He changed his mind fast. Harry's opinion is more important to him. Honestly it's not too surprising, he is following other people... but it makes his readiness to have his life ended for revenge seem... passive. Casual. Dying for a 'good' reason? Cool. Sirius being hot-and-cold is fair, he's a prison escapee with no future, following his loyalty to James and now to Harry... Remus? Remus just had one of the best years of his life. But he never expects good times to last long, anyway. Harry and his friends know his secret now...

Chapter 20

pg 278 'A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Their party was bathed in moonlight. ... Harry could see Lupin's silhouette. He had gone rigid. Then his limbs began to shake.

...So it is bonkers that his transformation is working like this, considering everything we know. Full Moonlight is triggering it and was blocked by... a cloud. Walls. Severus, Remus and Hermione all would have known it was a Full Moon - and that he forgot his potion. I can understand Remus and Hermione momentarily forgetting in all the hubbub the fact he was walking out into bare night... apart from the fact that transforming isn't an option for werewolves, nor will simply hiding indoors save them. We know that they will transform no matter what.

It doesn't make much sense – but I will go through it a little later. For now: Moonlight triggers it.

pg 279 There was a terrible snarling noise. Lupin's head was lengthening. So was his body. His shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws. Crookshanks's fur was on end again, he was backing away - As the werewolf reared, snapping its long jaws, Sirius disappeared from Harry's side. He had transformed. The enormous, bear-like dog bounded forwards. As the werewolf wrenched itself free of the manacle binding it, the dog seized it about the neck and pulled it backwards, away from Ron and Pettigrew. They were locked, jaw to jaw, claws ripping at eachother - … … Too late. Pettigrew had transformed. Harry saw his bald tail whip through the manacle on Ron's outstretched arm, and heard a scurrying through the grass. There was a howl and a rumbling growl; Harry turned to see the werewolf taking flight; it was galloping into the Forest - 'Sirius, hes gone, Pettigrew transformed!' Harry yelled.

Werewolf Transformation: Go rigid; Limbs shake; Snarl (sharp intake/exhale of air from pain?); Head lengthens into long jaws; Body lengthens (this means werewolves are larger than humans rather wolf-sized); Shoulders hunch over; Hair (fur?) sprouts on face and hands (perhaps everywhere but his clothes are still covering him); Hands curl into paws. The transformation is working body and head first – then out to the extremities. One skinny man, turned into a large dog, is enough to battle a thin werewolf man – though the reason Remus runs isn't clear. Is it to get away from Sirius, because Sirius is hurting him? It seems a little unlikely he would be so distracted from all the humans he could bite... unless the amount of potion he has had helps keep his mind clear. Clear enough to chase after Peter, perhaps...? In any case, he didn't remain injured in the morning. - Werewolves, along with human-like screams, howl, snarl and growl.

Chapter 21

pg 295 She looked nervously over her shoulder into the depths of the Forest. The sun was setting now. … … They moved around the edge of the Forest, darkness falling thickly around them, until they were hidden behind a clump of trees through which they could make out the Willow. 'There's Ron!' said Harry suddenly.

More proof of timing – it was nighttime before Remus showed up.

pg 296 'Here comes Lupin!' said Harry, as they saw another figure sprinting down the stone steps and haring towards the Willow. Harry looked up at the sky. Clouds were obscuring the moon completely.

I wonder if he was running partially because he saw the clouds were covering the moon – and he knew as long as he got to the shack in time he would be safe while inside...?

pg 298 And then, at last, after over an hour... 'Here we come!' Hermione whispered.

They were in the long tunnel from the Willow to the Shack for a long time. It was night before they even went in, and nobody felt at all concerned while they were coming out how much time had passed.

~~~ MY THOUGHTS:

So... after the sun had already gone down, but the moon was covered by clouds, Remus ran outside and to the Willow/Shack – in order to confront a murderer hiding there with the kids. He was understandably emotional, but selfishly put himself first: over the kids, Sirius and Peter, wasting time trying to regain trust and respect... despite knowing he had missed his potion. He showed no real concern of the upcoming/current Full Moon – and neither did Hermione.

Severus only thought to bring Remus his potion after sunset and didn't think to bring it to the shack in any sort of emergency situation. He treated Remus as a traitor, not as a wolf – and was willing to drag him back to the castle, through the night. Even he didn't show much concern for the upcoming/current Full Moon, despite through the year being meticulous in his care and glancing anxiously at him when the Full Moon approaches.

However, as soon as Remus walked outside – bound to Peter and an injured child – he transformed the moment a cloud moved and moonlight hit him directly.

Maybe it is understandable to have momentarily forgotten about the danger... but then again, he didn't feel it coming at all...? They are floating Severus behind them who JUST reminded him he didn't have his potion. He has been talking about his Lycanthropy for an hour.

How could he forget? How could they all forget? How could they be so calm on the Full Moon...?

My theory: It wasn't the Full Moon.

We know being a werewolf isn't quite a binary: - You can be 'contaminated' – only showing some symptoms. - Something anyone can tell about Fenrir Greyback it's that he is a bit more 'Wolf' than 'Were' - However, nobody could tell Remus was anything but chronically ill. Most importantly: - You get sicker the closer it is to the Full Moon, even during the day.

It's like the magic from the reflected light of the moon gets more saturated in the atmosphere as the moon waxes... until your body reaches a breaking point and, no matter where you are (like in your office) you transform. But perhaps that process can be sped up – by saturating yourself in direct near-full moonlight?

A premature transformation. It is the night before the Full Moon.

'Premature transformations under direct late waxing gibbous moonlight' Theory:

As it's not the forced transformation at the peak of the Full Moon it's not talked about as often. It's rare to encounter – but not unheard of or surprising. It is still a 'Full Moon' in a way, after all: The moon looks 'Full' for three or so days and is only truly 'full' for a moment.

If werewolves transformed the MOMENT it was truly Full, then there would be months where they transformed during the day. But if they DID transform during the day, then it still doesn't make sense that nobody is worrying about the Full Moon tonight: They would know when the true Full Moon is. They're Wizards.

This can ONLY mean that werewolves don't transform at the true Full Moon, probably only transform at night (when Direct sunlight doesn't drown out reflected Moonlight) and there is a little more going on than just "Full Moon touched me :^( ick". - Most werewolves hide away, already feeling unwell. They aren't going outside pre-Full Moon... so they don't transform. - Perhaps even those eager to transform would rather save their strength for the true Full Moon...? Perhaps it is a weaker transformation (couldn't even beat up a skinny ass dog) so even violent werewolves avoid it? - Maybe they still have a second transformation – Remus did want to leave the school terribly quickly the next day... so he didn't transform there a second night? It's said multiple times they transform ONCE a month... but maybe that's just because most avoid prematurely transforming? - People misunderstand key things about werewolves anyway, like the fact they are humans and not half-breeds. Remembering only the basics, 'Full Moon forced transformation', feels accurate. - Since Wizards are so Astronomy focused, things like the 'true Full Moon' vs 'nights where it's almost full' is already on their minds. The difference between “Late Waxing Gibbous” and “Full Moon” could be the difference between a potent potion or a watery failure. There is no way they're mistaking what moon cycle it is unless drunk. - Remus' Boggart is the Full Moon – because the Boggart thinks he will be scared of transforming – but there is more merit to that if Remus could turn prematurely under strong moonlight.

If the next night was the true Full Moon – then it makes sense that: - Severus was calm about it, not even thinking to bring the potion as an emergency. If Remus was a traitor he was going to Azkaban tonight anyway – who cares about his penultimate goblet...? - Remus wasn't too worried about transforming. He was safe while in the shack, ran while there was cloud cover... he was just distracted when leaving, head full of Peter, Sirius, guilt and worry. - Hermione didn't mention it. She knows when the Full Moon is – it's not tonight. - The night be cloudy. Some planning, maybe even something as simple as covering Remus' skin with a thick cloak, could be enough to prevent his transformation. Tie him up, throw a cloak on him, make sure the moon is covered and drag him to the castle... fair plan.

Nobody was surprised that it happened, and yet nobody thought about it beforehand.

Big moon dangerous – werewolf go brr.

[ominous-feychild]

I have a Problem in that I love to over-explain things even when I don't need to.

Especially when I don't need to. 😭

On that note! I'm working on my introduction post again (take a guess how many times I've gone to work on it and then stopped) and I went too in-depth when I should really be focusing on making it shorter, haha.

Except... I don't want to get rid of what I've written, and still want to share it.

SOLUTION!

My Obsessions:

✦ Fantasy, horror, mystery, action, and exploration of realistic characters' reactions to the things they go through.

What I write tends to be a reflection of this. My main works are high fantasies placed in what I feel is a more realistic setting--not as in grimdark "realistic", but places that are very used to the existence of magic. Someone who's grown up in a place with magical basically-electricity shouldn't spend five pages fawning over the existence of teleporters. Maybe they'll be surprised. Maybe they'll even be impressed. But unless they have some kind of a special interest in the subject, they'll probably spend more time thinking about how convenient it'll be for them rather than how it works, what it means, and the long, long history of magic... which has been around them for their whole life.

✦ Fairy tales, mythology, and folklore

I called myself "ominous-feychild" for a reason, haha. I like horror, I love fantasy, I adore faeries, and dear god--am I in LOVE with putting them all together! In folklore, faeries weren't cute little pixies that helped everyone around them... or even tiny little pixies that annoyed everyone around them (most of the time). They were the things that went "bump" in the night, that you huddled in close with your loved ones when you thought you might've caught their attention... Or, they made you question if your sister's eyes were always that far apart. Wait, was your bedroom there before? Did... did you even have a sister??? Well, you do now. And you might want to start running.

✦ "Ye Olde History" and language

"Ye Olde" meaning "the further away from modern day, the better." I can appreciate steampunk and actually often implement it into my own writing, but I do not consider Victorian England to be old. Civilization has been tracked back to as early as 4000 BCE, and it's way too easy to google that to think history actually started when Jesus was put on the cross. (Note: I am a merciless agnostic and hate what Christianity did to our world's history. So much was erased just because some bigots thought "stupid people don't think and act exactly like me, they're clearly barbaric! Time to erase their entire culture, massacre their people, and/or destroy their creations! Empathy be damned!!!" Fuck Christianity. To any Christians reading this, I don't mean you--just your religion. But you have to admit, it really sucks.)

✦ DIVERSITY!!!

As I just alluded to, I love learning about things that are unlike me. And, even more than that, I love people feeling like they have a place they belong. I've gone most of my life feeling ostracized, I'm not just going to perpetrate that cycle myself. Besides! It gets exhausting being in echo chambers with the same-old white cishet stories all the time.

✦ Explorations of "evil-coded" characters and abilities--aka, not just showing them as evil. Show them as people (for characters) and tools (for abilities)!

This is actually kind of personal to me. Autism and other disabilities have historically most often been relegated to villains because we're somehow "worse" than everyone else. Even I fell into that trap in the past, accidentally making a villain autistic-coded before I got my diagnosis. Now, I love putting people with questionable traits, powers, and backstories on the good side while the typically "good" things end up as villains. Something something, humans want freedom and freedom is chaos, something something, order is forcing things into boxes they might not particularly fit in because "otherwise, where else would they go???"

✦ Learning!!!

This might be weird, but I have a genuine love for just learning! (Not school, just learning.) I go down rabbit holes researching things all the time--and not just for writing! Obviously two of my favorite subjects are history and language, but I also love earth science and the ways our planet regulates itself to try to maintain balance! (And then we humans screw it up but.) Even in general, I love learning about random things, so if you ever have a weird infodump you really want to share, feel free to tag me in it and I'll check it out!!!

Yeah, by the way, this is linked to my actual intro post!

Divider by @cafekitsune

[starsh1ne-va1ly]

To win youre heart (1)

Theme: Akai and Furuya are fighting for youre attantion. What they didnt know was that you were already married, with Masumi.

Request by : @jennieyeager

Warning : grammar mistakes//one side feelings

Character : (platonic) Akai x f!reader x furuya //(Romantic) Masumi sera x f!reader

Note : Heyyy I AM SO SORRY FOR MAKING YOU WAIT THAT LONG (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) I was busy working, but now I'm done. Sadly Tumblr dosent let me post anything over 4000 (or was it 400? I dunno) letters, so I had to make a part 2. I hope you like it!

Shuichi was the first one to meet you. He had seen you in a libary, and after approching you he found out how sweet and charming you were. You immadiatly got his attantion.Furuya though, had met you while working. You sat in the Poirot, being already so polite when he came to you to get youre order, even if you werent able to speak japanese that well. But that was no problem with Furuyas english skills. He was somehow bound to see you more often, finding you regulary in the Café or sitting in a Park when he was walking haro. He easily found himself falling for you.The same was for Shuichi, you we're quit often in the libary, almost on a daily Basis. Sometimes even in the supermarket. Youre smile and laugh was to die for. He could'nt help but want you for himself. It was like fate, you were made for eachother. He was more calm and quit and you, you were joyfull and a chatty person.So one day, it comes, and Furuya finds you with Akai in the store going grocery shopping. And he is pissy. How comes that AKAI is always where he's aswell? And now hes also getting lovely dovley with the woman HE lost HIS heart to? Hes not gonna let him away with this. You deserve better.Akai obviosly catching up on his weirdly I-know-better behaivier and making it his goal to make you fall for him. It was his plan to court you anyways, so why not make it a little game to show whos better? Akai loves to rail Furuya up, and seeing you smile makes his heart do things, he never thought possible.Shuichi is now provocating furuya whos passive agressivly talking back at him. Too confused by this weird arguement you continue you're Shopping and end up leaving with neither of them.When rei meets you again, he apolegised and promised that this would never happen again. But he did, told you to stay away from Akai. Saying he would be no good and could get you in danger.So now, they both always fight for youre attantion,to win youre heart. Furuya compliments you whenever he gets the chance, ask you out for a walk or for dinner at a expensive Restaurant.Shuichi offering to drive you to youre Uni/College/ whatever, whenever you want. Ask you to come at his place and makes you try his curry. Flirts to make youre heart flip like he wants to.Just, for some reason, it never makes a diffrents. No matter what they do, or how often they flirt. You dont seem to catch up in their behaivor.

Work made by @lostin7hsky I dont own these character. Dont repost without my consent!

[gayashawol]

𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬

Ships: Lee Jinki x AFAB!Reader x Kim Jonghyun

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Hurt + Comfort

Word Count: 4000+ words

Content Warning(s): Mentions of grooming, abuse (specifically past summer camp abuse), also Taemin is aged down in case that’s someone’s trigger (he is 16 in this story), same as the previous story, reader’s genitals is described with the top being vague and the bottom detailed

Author’s Notes: I hope you guys actually like these sort of stories, I really enjoyed making them looool

It was 6 in the morning, time to wake up before the others just to get the food ready for the little campers. I woke up alongside Jinki and Jonghyun, seeming like they had a rough night.

“Morning hun… how did you sleep?” Jonghyun smiled back at me. His eyes seemed half awake, he had a blank expression for a moment before reacting to my comment.

“It was alright… I’d rather sleep in my bed than this…” Jinki stood up afterwards, going towards the shower room. We followed each other, removing our clothes before stepping onto the wet floor and turning on the shower head.

Jinki and Jonghyun were teasing each other, spanking each other butts while I peacefully washed my hair just to then place it in two ponytails. I grabbed my towel and went out, seeing the two fighting each other naked like I was watching the Olympics during Ancient Greece times with their cocks flopping around and their towels on the floor.

“Jinki started it!!” Jonghyun screamed, trying to push Jinki away. I broke up the fight, telling them to get changed so we could start cooking and waking the kids up at 8 am. We did have a lot of time, so we could do what we wanted to do before then.

We finally got changed and went into our camp clothes before we went to the kitchen to make porridge as a part of the breakfast menu. It was a huge bowl, it was WAY bigger than all of our heads combined. While me and Jonghyun were getting the food ready, Jinki went to wake up the campers. Slowly but surely, they came to the window and demanded food.

We gave them a fresh bowl of porridge to eat, as well as a protein bar, an apple and a sandwich of their choice. There were 4 different types of sandwiches. There were eggs, cheese, ham and tuna. They hung out at the tables where we could see them and laughed with their friends and the cliques they created throughout the 2 weeks they had been in camp.

“Alright, that’s the most of them.” Jinki came back while smiling. We had 30 kids to take care of, and we were in charge of the activities for them. Once everyone was taken care of, we had our food and sat with the others.

Our favourite camper was a teenage boy named Taemin. His parents forced him to go after he supposedly kept getting bad grades. He seemed sad the first couple of days he was in the camp, but we did help him get his spirits up once we told him that we wouldn’t hurt him.

“Hi, guys!” Taemin eyes became cheerful upon our presence, walking up to us as he gave us space that wasn’t taken.

“Hey, Taemin! How have you been doing?” Jonghyun smiled back at him, sitting straight while leaning forward towards him. “Did you sleep well?”

“I slept well! This camp wasn’t as bad as I thought!”

“That’s great to hear! We’re so glad to have you too!” Jinki cheerfully replied to Taemin while taking a bite out of his apple.

“Did you get a cheese sandwich again?” I teased him for his love for cheese. He has spoken a lot about his admiration for mozzarella sticks and cheesy pizza, knowing that cheese would be his go-to sandwich.

“Yeah! Jonghyun even made it melt for me!” I looked back at Jonghyun, shaking my head at the nice gesture he made. “This would’ve never been allowed at my other camp…”

“Yeah… some camps have safety regulations, but here is fine. If you want another one, let us know!” I saw him smiling, almost ecstatic at the thought of getting another sandwich. He quickly nodded, in which Jonghyun used that as a cue to go back and make more.

Eventually, Jonghyun came back and that sparkle in his eyes came back. He went in for a bite, feeling the melting cheese pull, getting excited at the view. We all got excited for him, seeing that he had been doing much better than a couple of weeks ago.

Soon enough, it was time for everyone to go outside. I followed everyone and played some games while Jinki and Jonghyun washed the dishes inside.

We played a game of “change seats if” in which it became serious way too quickly. Everyone enjoyed it so much that they got upset when they were told that the game was over.

During that period, Jinki and Jonghyun came out to play along, leading the kids to demand to play again so they could join. We brought out 2 more chairs, so now we were all playing together.

One kid stood up and began thinking of something to say. “Change seats if… you play football!” About 5 guys switched, and one stood back up. “Change seats if…” He paused, possibly thinking about something that hadn’t been said. “…who has an iPhone?” I immediately stood up with Jinki, in which he was brought to stand in the front.

“Stand up if you ate a cheese sandwich today!” Jinki alerted a sleepy Taemin, causing him to be the last to find a seat and have to stand in the front. He seemed shy, and unsure what to say. Everyone started to wait for him to call out anyone indirectly, but it turned out that he was nervous… almost like a stage fright feeling.

Feeling bad for him, I stood up to ask if he was alright. He gave a thumbs up as a sign for me to sit back down. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but I knew he had stage fright from the way his face looked, which was exactly how I felt as a kid when I was forced to go on stage at my school.

“U-uh… switch seats if… y-you have a birthmark…” He was pretty quiet, but I was able to just about hear him, so I repeated what he said.

“Taemin said, switch seats if you have a birthmark!” Only 3 people stood up and luckily he managed to sit back down to mind his own business.

After another 10 minutes of that, we stopped the games and allowed the campers to do whatever they wanted to do. Soon, it was 10 am. We were about to go on our morning stroll around the woods. We made sure that everyone was close to each other, going up the hills and going past the same path that we’d been through for 20 minutes straight.

We eventually reached a river, in which we divided into 3 so we had 1 adult for every 10 kids. I managed to be in the same boat with Taemin, having him sit next to me while the others sat in twos.

“Hey Y/N… I need to say something serious…” Taemin has spoken to me in an almost whisper voice.

“Hey, Taemin! What is it that you wanted to tell me?” I said in a rather cheerful voice. I knew I couldn’t break character, so I assumed that it was something light-hearted.

“Um… I think I’ve been abused in the other camp…” I felt my stomach drop so fast. Obviously, I couldn’t show the other kids that I was feeling upset, so I slightly dimmed my smile, demanding he tell me more when we went back to camp.

We finally reached the other side, everyone got out of the boat safely. We waited for the others, in which we reunited with Jinki, Jonghyun and the other 20 kids.

“Ah hey! How was the boat ride!” Jonghyun spoke to Taemin, but it seemed like he didn’t want to speak to anyone right now. I don’t know what he was thinking of, but I could assume that he might’ve had a flashback moment.

Or maybe… maybe he was upset with me…?

Did I sound rude or insensitive? I hope I didn’t come off like that.

We eventually went back to camp, with the kids looking forward to lunch. As soon as it came to 12:30 pm, everyone was lined up for lunch, with the dinner ladies pouring macaroni and cheese into a bowl.

Pouring each portion into each person’s trays, we finally reached the front of the line. We were given just about what we needed so we could sit down and start our lunch break.

“Not gonna lie, this camp thing is super difficult…” Jinki sighed, looking back at Jonghyun. “I want to go home…”

We all broke character for a little bit and sighed, cheering Jinki on to keep going for the entire day. Jonghyun pat his back, stroking it while I held his hands. He let out a couple of tears, but his face was still in a half smile.

“I know… but I really tried… I miss being in our room… making love…” Jinki explained, leaning onto Jonghyun’s shoulder. He was slowly getting it out, but he did go on to calm down and wipe away his tears, acting like it never happened.

All of a sudden, a familiar camper walked over to us with a tray full of food. It was a smiley Taemin, with a tray filled with only mac and cheese. We knew that this was going to be the meal of the week for him knowing his love for cheese.

“Hi, guys! I got myself some Mac and Cheese!” Taemin exclaimed out of excitement. We suddenly smiled back at him, cheering him on for the meal that he deservedly needed.

“That’s so great, Taemin! Let us know if you want more, alright Taemin?” We all chuckled at him, Jonghyun nodded his head and ate along with him. “

Taemin was looking at me while eating his food. Was it regarding the chat we had back on the boat? I hope he wasn’t mad at me…

Taemin then took a deep breath and began speaking directly to me. “Y/N… I do need to talk to you about something…”

In shock, I replied straight away. “Yes, Taemin?”

“It’s about… the other camp… but I can finish my food first.” He went on to eat his food fast enough that after a minute of eating, the tray was completely gone. He immediately stood up and went to my side of the table. I knew that this was my cue to go to the office and speak to him.

“Alright, Taemin. Sit down here. Let me know what happened.” My hands were together on the table, and I was leaning forward. My eyes were alert, and my head was already slightly shaking at the silence.

“Well… it was 4 summers ago… I went to this camp…” Taemin went on with the story, starting from the very moment his parents dropped him at the place.

—

“NOOOOO! I DON’T WANT TO GO HERE!!!” A 12-year-old Taemin screamed at the car of his parents, begging to go back home with them.

“Well, if you wanted to be with us, you should’ve brought home better grades than a D. Really? Are you serious, Taemin?”

The car approached a camp where Taemin could already hear some cries before he even went inside the place. The inside didn’t seem the greatest at the slightest. Everywhere seemed like it was cheaply made. A kid fell on a chair he was sitting on, and the stuff they were eating looked like wasted slop.

As his parents registered him into the camp, they made their way to the exit. “Bye, Taemin! We’ll see you at the end of summer!”

“NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOO!” Taemin began running for his parents, but the staff held him back, preventing him from moving until the doors closed. He ran over to open the door, but it was no use. He was trapped in this horrible camp for the whole summer and he had no other choice but to suck it up and survive.

That was when the challenge started.

The staff changed their emotions, switching to a rather scary face. They treated Taemin like he was a rat, throwing his belongings to the staff room to check his items just to throw almost all of his clothes away, including his favourite cheese underwear. At that point, he only had one underwear — the one he was wearing.

He became stressed out, unsure what to do. He had nothing else to wear and was stranded with nothing but his sanity.

The camp didn’t even feed him properly either, giving him slop 3 times a week, which meant that he had only fruits and a cheese stick to eat. He became incredibly skinny and he began to look unrecognisable. The once “happy-go-lucky” Taemin was now this miserable pile of bones whose parents dropped him to camp and left.

However, that wasn’t the worst part. There was a lot of abuse happening. Whenever Taemin did something out of line, he would get beaten — even if it was something small such as his legs pointing slightly sideways when standing. If he slept for too long, he would get beaten for that. If he went to sleep late, he would get beaten the next day. If he tried to escape, he would get beaten for that. There were so many rules that even he couldn’t keep up. In fact, the staff could beat campers up just because they felt like it. It was a horrible time.

Even though there was so much happening, nothing could prevent him from what would happen next. There was a staff that was especially close to him, TOO close. Her name was Haerim, a 28-year-old woman at the time. She found herself attracted to Taemin and she would stare at him as he would walk past him.

One day, Taemin and Haerim were alone together since she wanted to go through Taemin’s files. Once she realised that nobody was coming into the office, she used that time to do the unthinkable to the younger boy.

“Why are you doing that? Can you stop?” Taemin was weak, but he was able to stand up for himself to the best of his abilities.

“Why are you fussing? I’m just checking your clothes for your name!” She lied, it was obvious by the way she was holding up the hem of his jumper.

“Tell you what… let me do what I want to do, and I’ll make sure you won’t get beaten up again.” She held her hand on his cheek, scrunching his lips into a pout. Taemin looked at her in confusion, raising his eyebrow in disgust.

“B-But I haven’t even had my first time…” Taemin quietly spoke but got cut off by Haerim’s disgustingly loud laugh. She went closer to his face, just where her face would take out most of his sight.

“Do we have a deal?” She laid out her hand, waiting for Taemin to reply to her. Unfortunately for him, he accepted her request, hoping that he wouldn’t have to suffer anymore at the hands of the other staff.

Taemin felt like a toy throughout the time he was in the office. He knew what was happening, the woman wasn’t his mother or a doctor. She was a strange woman who wanted to do immoral acts with him, a child. He didn’t know how to feel, or how to act. He knew he couldn’t tell anyone, he just wanted to get out of it so he didn’t need to be beaten up.

As the weeks went on, he surprisingly hasn’t been beaten at all. Haerim even gave him all the food he had been craving, giving him an extra cheese sandwich for breakfast. He has been doing much better physically, but at what cost? Haerim was still demanding to do the ungodly things with him from time to time, causing him to wake up late.

Eventually, the summer camp finally came to an end. He could finally go home, right?

Haerim was going to miss him — taking advantage of his innocence. She made out with him in the office, kissing him with tongue, in which he was unsure what to do. He awkwardly opened his eyes in between, looking at what she was doing to him. She sighed to himself, knowing that it was the last time she could do that to him.

He woke up in her bed, with his clothes gone and nowhere to be found. Across him was a naked Haerim with her bending down with her butt towards Taemin. He felt uncomfortable but sucked it up as this may finally be the end of his “relationship” with Haerim.

As he left, his parents seemed cheerful to see him, but Taemin brushed aside him and walked into the car, almost as if his soul had been forcefully ripped out of him. He was gloomy, feeling guilty, and almost like he didn’t deserve to live.

—

I widen my eyes out of shock, not realising how bad it was until Taemin presented it to me. I saw him taking a deep breath to stop crying, but it was no use. I went over to cuddle him, and he gladly accepted and cried on my shoulder.

“I-I felt… g-guilty…” He sniffed, before letting it out again. I held onto him, pulling him closer. I just wanted to let him know that he was allowed to talk to me about anything… anything he felt comfortable to talk about.

“Thank you for telling me, Taemin.” He looked up at me and smiled. “Did you tell your parents about her?”

He shook his head. “No… they’d probably not believe me.”

Suddenly, Jonghyun walked in — possibly due to the fact that we stayed in the office for too long.

“Guys, it’s time to go out! Also, I saved you a bit of apple crumble and custard, I know how much you love AC&C!” He teased me, I had a sigh of relief hearing that he would never let me go a day without my favourite dessert in the world.

I took a bite of the AC&C he brought to me as I saw Jonghyun holding Taemin’s hand to go outside. I let myself have a sigh, giving myself time to enjoy my food. It has been a while since I enjoyed a meal this much. Jinki came in, chuckling at something on his phone.

“Yo Y/N, you got to see this video!” The video showcased a funny prank of people getting scared of a moving mannequin. He loves videos like these, almost like my mother. Seeing him happy was all I’d like to see, especially with the fact that he was crying not too long ago.

I eventually ate the AC&C and went to the kitchen to wash the plate. Me and Jinki hung out there for a while, taking a sip of water before going out to meet up with Jonghyun. As we went out, we saw Taemin with some other campers.

“Alright, campers! We’re going hiking! Let’s go in a group of 3!” Jinki called out, almost everyone went in their cliques. All, except Taemin. Eventually, 2 teens went up to him to ask to be in a group.

“Hey! We’re looking for a 3rd, so you wanna join us?” Their names were Minho and Kibum. They seemed to be friends since they entered the camp, getting along with each other like PB&J.

Taemin’s eyes lit up in excitement, smiling at the thought that there were people who actually wanted to be friends with him. “Yeah, sure!” He held the hand of Minho and walked away with them. Us being super excited for him, we watched from a distance as they asked questions about each other.

“So you have a birthmark?” Key asked Taemin. “Where is it?”

“Well… it’s on the side of my buttcheek… it looked like a cheese! My mother said that it looked like a my little pony cutie mark!” The boys chuckled, asking him to show it to them. He pulled down the band of his shorts, having the boys react in awe.

We decided that we were going to go as 3 and look around if any other kid wanted any help. It was a fun time walking around, going up the hills, swimming across the river, hopping on rocks and taking a break on the grass.

They chatted with each other the whole time, even upon their arrival back to the camp. They never broke apart, they were together. By the time they came back, it was 6:15 pm. They stuck together so they could roast marshmallows. They took pictures of their moments, laughing and enjoying their presence. We knew that we didn’t want to disturb them, so we watched at a distance. We were overjoyed that Taemin managed to finally make friends in the summer camp. He went from a quiet boy to a social butterfly in a matter of couple weeks.

By the time it reached 7:30 pm, everyone started going inside their rooms. It started getting late, so everyone had to go to sleep by 8 pm. Some campers were allowed to stay up until 9 pm since they were old enough. Taemin and his friends laughed so loudly that Jinki had to go inside and remind them that the lights were going to be switched off in 15 minutes. He was smiling for a bit at the door, before closing it behind him.

Soon, the campsite became silent. We could finally go to sleep.

We went back to our rooms in a tired state. We finally made it to the best part of the day, which was sleeping. Jinki was especially pleased that he made it through this day that he fell onto the bed like his legs just gave in right there and then.

Jonghyun followed through with a huge sigh. “Great job, guys!” He clapped his hands, holding both of us in a sort of awkward hug.

“Oi, Jonghyun!” I screamed, hugging him back. We went to have another shower, seeing them lazily washing their hair and helping each other rub their backs before leaving to get changed. I went in afterwards, stripped from top to bottom and stayed there until I felt clean enough to leave.

Upon leaving with just a towel, I saw Jonghyun and Jinki making out on the bed with nothing but their towels around their waists. Their hands were holding each other’s, and they seemed like they were so into it that I assumed that it could escalate to something more.

“Mmm… Jinki, should we do it tonight?” Jonghyun asked as they moved more into the bed.

“Sure… I don’t mind.” They both removed their towels, Jinki jerking Jonghyun off in his soft state. He looked up at me, asking with his eyes if I wanted to join them.

Whilst hesitating, I decided to join the both of them. I gave Jonghyun head, causing him to squirm and have his cock grow slightly. It twitched at my touch, and he would struggle to stay quiet no matter how much he tried.

Jinki went in to try and jerk his cock awake. It happened slowly, but managed to do anything. Jonghyun went in to give Jinki some head, doing a sort of yoga pose with his leg up so I could also give him head.

“Mmm… Y/N… can you put your finger inside of me?” I complied, taking the lube that was on the bed and placing a small portion on my finger. He felt the cold liquid inside of his ass, shivering at the sensation that I was giving him.

“Oh yes… that’s so good…” Jonghyun began to give Jinki a sloppy head, drooling over the fact that I was fingering him well. Selfishly, Jinki pushed his head towards his cock, making him choke for a bit.

He pulled out, feeling his attraction towards me. He went onto my body and made out with me. He slid his hand inside of my pussy, making his way inside of my hole after stimulating my clit for a bit.

He licks my lips passionately while he loosens my hole for him to use. Once I was comfortable, he used his lube-filled cock and placed it inside of me. At the same time, Jinki went in and placed his cock inside of Jonghyun’s ass. Once we were all intact, we started awkwardly moving until we found the motion that best suited us.

“Y-yes… mmm…” Jonghyun moaned, trying to make his way to touch my cervix. He accidentally did it a couple of times, in which each time felt better than the next. Meanwhile, Jinki was going balls deep inside of him. He was already gripping onto him, which meant there was more pleasure for him.

“Oh fuck… Jjongie, you’re so tight…” Jinki felt like he needed to force through him in order to orgasm, causing him to pull out and jerk his way through. Jonghyun pulled out of me so he could cum on his face. It went everywhere! From his face to his body, he was completely filled.

“O-oh my gosh… You came so much!” He chuckled, looking at his body in a mirror, and seeing the white liquid dripping down to his chest.

Jinki went back in to finger me more, making sure nobody got left behind. Jonghyun followed through, kissing my chest and licking my nipples. My entire body was sensitive, begging for more in a way.

“T-this is… more!” I told them, and they delivered. I felt a cock going inside of me before I was able to see Jonghyun and Jinki switching places. Jonghyun was about to cum, so he was going to finish up while Jinki watched.

“I-I’m about to cum…” Jonghyun squirted with one last slam, feeling it going everywhere before pulling out. Everything was spilling onto the bed, and all of us were shameless.

We were finally in the dark, looking at the ceiling as we spoke to each other. We sat in silence, tucking each other into bed and comforting ourselves. We soon fell asleep one by one, feeling each other’s snores every passing minute.

“Goodnight, Y/N…” Jinki kissed me on the forehead, and that was the last thing I heard until I apparently stopped talking too.

—

dividers by @cafekitsune

[littlemisspascal]

The When (Part 1)

Pairing: Ruescott Melshi x Female Reader

Word Count: 4000+

Summary: There is a story before, when, and after Keef Girgo enters your life. This is the When.

Rating: M (18+, minors please do not engage!)

Warnings: Prison/Narkina 5 storyline but an AU where woman inmates are assigned to each unit as ‘peacekeepers’, language, established relationship, non-descriptive smut + references of smut, possessiveness, references of violence + blood, non-descriptive suicide (not major character death)

- Reader has no official name and no physical traits described in detail. However, she is implied to be shorter than Melshi.

Author Note: Thank you everybody for the kind support of this story! For the sake of length, this section--The When--will be broken up into multiple segments! Hope someone enjoys it 😊

Special thanks to @beecastle for beta reading and encouraging me 💜

The Before / The When Part 2

The daily routine continues. Doesn’t matter Table 5 is down a man. Doesn’t matter that man is—was—Tress and he’s gone forever. Wrapped up in a body bag and taken away like he was nothing more than garbage. He’s not the first to have railed himself during your time here, and you’d be a damn fool to think he’ll be the last. Doesn’t make the hole in your chest any smaller though.

As a peacekeeper—and you hate that title, you really do. You already stand out as separate from the men sheerly by being the only woman in the unit, the extra label just seems excessive—you’re meant to float around the room, encouraging a different table every hour. But on day one of your sentence Kino assigned you to Table Five and you’ve been with your boys ever since.

At first you thought Kino only did it because he saw you as too weak to be helpful, that you’d only get in the way and ruin his streak of being one of the top three rooms on the level. It was only when you saw how he interacted with Ulaf, the longest-serving inmate on level five —a pat on the shoulder every hour, tone just a smidge lighter, friendlier, keeping a particularly close track of Ulaf’s approaching release date—did you understand why he organized the arrangement. 

And it was only when you saw Kino successfully argue against the guards to give Table Four a pass for their slowness after the loss of a member (slit his throat with his shaver, you’d learn the gruesome details later from Xaul), that you understood why the prisoners listened to him, respected him, why they obeyed every booming word out of his mouth. Because as far as managers go, how lucky Unit Five-Two-D is to have gotten the very best.

—

The loss of Tress is harder than you expect it to be. His absence means two less hands to twist a hydrospanner, which means you have to step up and fill the void while also catching the drill when it swings around to puncture holes in your piece of metal and double-checking Ulaf’s work isn’t faulty. Table Five is in last place, a ranking that has your eyes drifting towards the deceivingly harmless box in the center of the room, stomach churning.

There’s still time left on the clock. No need to panic just yet. Panic leads to mistakes and mistakes lead to injuries. Melshi will get mad if you’re injured again. There are already too many reasons to be mad around here, you really don’t want to give him another one.

Besides, sooner or later, another prisoner will be joining your table today. That’s always how it goes. Someone dies, the next day they’re replaced. Simple as that.

“Like cheap parts in a machine,” Melshi had said once. Not angry. Not disgusted. Just a plain and cold fact of life. 

The boys don’t talk much today while working, too focused on trying to catch up to the other tables to say anything besides the usual Fly! and Hands away repeated on loop like clockwork. Occasionally there will be encouragement like C’mon we got this from Ham, ever the optimist even in the direst of times. Nobody has the heart to tell him and his baby blues to shut up.

You’ll catch Melshi’s gaze right before each fresh droid widget rises up from the depths of the table to be worked on. He’s tired, you can see it in the lines around his mouth, how he clenches his jaw. And you know he sees the same exhaustion mirrored in the slouch of your posture and heavy eyelids. Neither of you offer words of comfort to the other. 

It’s enough to be seen.

—

The new inmate shows up during the final hour of the shift, right as you were beginning to fear nobody was coming to replace Tress at all. He’s young, early half of his twenties you estimate, with floppy brown hair and the same thinly veiled look of nervousness everyone wears on their faces when they first arrive.

You remember what it’s like to be in his shoes—well, not shoes technically, but his position. To be stared at by a room full of strangers all with their hands on their heads. It’s like attending a new school, except worse because school ends once the day’s over and everybody gets to go home. There are men here with sentences lasting double their lifetimes. They’ll never see their homes again.

You can barely recall what your home even looks like anymore, too many memories of white walls and a shared cot filling your head. It hadn’t really been a home though, you know that much. Just a building with a roof and four walls. And there had been no one to share it with either. No one to worry why you never came back after that fateful night.

Kino welcomes the newcomer with his typical informative, if not intimidatingly blunt explanation of how to fit in. My name is Kino Loy. I own you now. This is how the game is played. Don’t fuck it up.

You feel the stranger’s eyes on you even before he approaches. You’d bristle if you weren’t used to it after all these years. But there’s something…different about his stare. It isn’t hostile or hungry, doesn’t make the hair on the back of your neck prickle. It’s the look of a man who’s attempting to solve a puzzle in his mind and is startled by an unexpected piece changing the entire image. 

He’s curious about you.

“We’ve been waiting for you.” Jemboc is the first to greet him, somehow managing to sound pleasant despite the increasing sense of impending doom you’re all going to be fried. “I’m Jemboc. What’s your name?”

“Keef Girgo.”

There’s something about the way he says it—dull, almost woodenly—that has your fingers instinctively tightening around your tool. It’s too plain. Too irreverent. The kind of name forgotten the second you hear it.

Jemboc carries on introductions, pointing to each of you. “Xaul, Taga, Ulaf and Ham. Then that’s Melshi and his girl.”

You roll your eyes at the ensuing chuckles from the boys, telling Keef your real name despite your misgivings. First impressions can’t be trusted on Narkina 5, forged too rashly in the glance of an eye. It’s the second and third and fourth ones you’ll need to depend on to form a fair judgment. 

Keef says nothing, but his gaze is alert, soaking everything in. 

“We’re down ten,” Taga announces after glancing at the screen depicting the stats of the room. 

The group’s efforts pick up speed.

“Kino got Four a pass before when they were down a man,” Jemboc points out, grabbing the overhead drill. “He should give us one too.”

“He should,” Xaul agrees, lips pursed, “but—”

“He won’t,” Taga finishes shortly, temper flaring. “Not when we have her.”

You know he doesn’t mean it as sharply as it sounds, but the words still sting, still draw blood, and you can’t stop yourself from reflexively wincing. 

It’s true though. Even with the difficulties of Ulaf’s old age taken into account, your help is an advantage over the other groups. And in order to make up for that advantage (as well as keep his respect intact), there are times Kino will fight harder for the benefits of the other tables over yours. Case in point.

“We’re down ten. Focus.” If Taga’s voice was a papercut, then Melshi’s is the dangerous click of a blaster promising death.

Silence falls like a blanket over the table, movements frozen as if everyone’s been turned to stone. Even Keef seems to be holding his breath. 

You bite your lip, a burst of heat spreading out from the center of your stomach. Maker, this man…

And then Ulaf coughs and the spell is broken and work resumes once more.

You move around the table where you’re needed, tightening bolts, drilling holes, fusing metal—lather, rinse, and repeat. Every day it’s the same spider-like beams and the same precise installation method. Human error is what keeps you on your toes, the only unpredictable element of each shift. 

Through it all, Keef stands there soundlessly. Watching, watching, watching…

Ulaf heaves a sigh. “Giving us a new man with only an hour left? It’s hopeless.”

“There’s still forty-two minutes on the clock,” Ham says, but you can hear a thread of trepidation in his voice now. “We can rally.”

You snort, glancing up at the window right as a guard passes by. “Un-fucking-likely. They’re up there laughing at us.”

Keef steps closer in your peripheral, probably to get a better look at the tools, but realizing that doesn’t stop your hackles from raising defensively. 

“Hey, new guy,” Xaul seizes Keef’s attention, eyes hollow and mouth pinched, “prepare to fry.”

On that grim note, you think there won’t be anymore talking for awhile, but then—

“Keef,” Melshi corrects.

Your head snaps up, frowning, thinking you must have misheard him.

“What?” Xaul looks just as taken aback as you feel.

“That’s his name.” Melshi’s eyes skim right over your face, locking with the man in question behind you. “Right?��

“Keef,” is the echoed confirmation. There’s an edge to it that wasn’t there when he said it before, and when you look over your shoulder, you see there’s a new rigidity to his expression, too. A refusal to yield. Understanding dawns then, stealing the air from your lungs.

Oh.

You immediately look to Melshi again, finding him already looking back. 

It’d been a test. 

One glance, that’s all it takes to know you both share the same certainty.

Keef’s lying.

—

Table Five finishes last to the surprise of nobody in the group. You stand in the box, a darker colored square tile in the center meant to be seen by every prisoner in the room. Your breathing is loud even to your own ears, rapid panting as you stare at your feet, toes curling against the cold floor. This isn’t a new experience—Table Five’s been in the box dozens of times over the years of your sentence—but you’ll never be immune to the pain. No, it will always find new ways to break you over and over again.

Melshi stands behind you. He does this on purpose to keep you from seeing him writhing in pain. But his screams…oh his screams your ears will never forget. 

Also standing somewhere behind you is Keef. The dark-haired man had withdrawn inside himself when the alarm sounded at the end of the shift, reminding you of a turtle hiding inside its shell. Some vague and distant part of your mind not currently drowning in panic wonders how long he’ll last here. If Narkina 5 will add yet another tally to its ever rising death toll. 

And then the box ignites and there’s no more wondering anything anymore. 

Your world is consumed in hellfire.

—

The box leaves the bottoms of your bare feet tender and aching, white-hot needles prodding at the flesh, sinking deeper with every step. You’d cry if you could summon the tears, but your body’s a scorched husk, mouth tasting like desert sand. 

The walk to the skybridge is a blur. It’s only while you stand in line, waiting for the guards to open the doors, your haziness begins wearing off. You blink a few times, fuzzy outlines sharpening into distinctive shapes, and the residual ringing in your ears starts to fade as you become aware of a hand holding yours, squeezing it rhythmically. You find yourself smiling, just a slight upturn of your chapped lips, because you’ll always recognize Melshi’s touch.

You shuffle around, slowly lifting your tired gaze over his chest and face until you meet his eyes. Empty, is your first thought, stomach plummeting. Empty and colorless, matching the ashen hue of his skin. He looks sick. Worse, he looks…

Biting back a whimper, you lean in even closer, pressing your forehead against the center of his chest where the welcoming sound of his heartbeat washes over you like rain. Melshi stays quiet. Just breathing. He drifts sometimes, too, going somewhere you can’t follow. He’s never gone long, but you still wrestle with helplessness in the interim, wishing you could do more than hold onto him until he returns. 

A minute ticks by, then another. The other inmates pay no attention to either of you, chattering amongst themselves or griping about the long wait. It’s sort of funny how after twelve hour shifts of heavy labor with no breaks the sleeping block quickly starts looking like a five-star hotel.

It’s sort of funny, except no, it really isn’t funny at all.

Melshi exhales a shaky breath through his nose and then his lips are suddenly pressing a kiss to the top of your head, a shiver running through you that’s not an aftereffect of the shock.

You tilt your head up to look at him again, tips of your noses almost touching. His eyes flash with a flicker of warmth, sending your heart somersaulting, and you feel relief swell inside of you like a balloon. 

“Hi,” you say, and the word comes out like a frog’s croak. 

“Hi,” he echoes, a low and gravelly note only you can hear.  

This close, where all you see is Melshi, Melshi, Melshi, it’s as crazy as it is upsetting to think just a few years ago you had no idea he even existed. You don’t know how you ever survived a day without his touch. And now that you have him, now that you know the depths of his devotion and care, how it feels to be worshipped as he slides home between your legs…

The tortures of Narkina 5 won’t be what kills you.

Losing Melshi will.

—

Even though Kino swears all the cells are identical, some prisoners get it in their heads that their buddy’s room is somehow better than theirs. They take advantage of the aftermath of an inmate dying, when there’s a vacant spot and a newbie too outnumbered to argue, and swap spaces with whoever’s willing. Usually it doesn’t bother you much—boys will be boys, after all—but this time their shuffling ends with Keef residing in the cell across from you and Melshi.

You lie on your stomach on Melshi’s cot, sipping water from the tube while listening as Jemboc explains the layout to your new neighbor. Melshi stays on the floor below. You don’t have to have a clear view of his face to know he’s studying Keef. All the boys are doing it, lingering on the ledges of their own cells, murmuring to each other.

Their behavior would be weird if it wasn’t commonplace around here. It’s hard to have an interrogation in the work room, let alone a conversation. The sleep block is the only place inmates can talk to each other without interruptions (at least until the floors turn hot).

Keef’s tab reads 2,189. Six years. Not the biggest sentence in the unit, but quadruple amounts always draw curiosity.

You offer the water tube to Melshi, fingers brushing as he takes it from your grasp. He swallows a few gulps, throat bobbing in a way that shouldn’t be as oddly mesmerizing as it is, and then drops it, letting the tube wind itself up back into the wall with a quiet reverberation.

“So, what did you do?” Jemboc asks, leaning against the outer wall of Keef’s cell with his arms crossed casually. 

Keef seems to notice then for the first time the abundance of eyes on him, expression spasming with startlement. He shrugs a shoulder, shaking his head. “Nothing.”

Interesting.

Every word out of his mouth so far has been a lie. 

Jemboc smirks. “Lot of that around here.” A glance at the number again. “At least you know where you stand from the start, no surprises.”

Melshi makes an irritated sound. “Ask him already.”

Both your and Keef’s eyes shoot towards him, one full of knowing and the other cautious. 

“Everyone’s numbers went up last month,” Jemboc explains. “A direct result of the P-O-R-D.”

Taga moves closer, a hint of desperation rounding his eyes, giving him a slightly feral appearance. “People must be talking about it.”

Keef’s cautiousness is erased by confusion, brow creasing. “About what?”

Your nails dig into your palms, the beginnings of dread tearing at your insides. He isn’t lying now. He really doesn’t understand.

“The Public Order Resentencing Directive,” Taga says, spitting each word out like they are individual curses. 

A small crowd begins to form on the floor, listening to the exchange with rapt interest. The distinct, sinking feeling in your gut insisting you’ll be grateful for the distance in a few seconds keeps you up high and out of arms’ reach.

“You’re the first guy in since they imposed the new law,” Jemboc tells Keef. “It’s been tough waiting for news of how people are reacting.”

Keef just stares at him for a moment, and it feels like he’s holding the entire room in a chokehold, atmosphere so thick with tension you can scarcely breathe. Your nails sink in deeper, guaranteeing crescent-shaped scars.

When he shakes his head, a quick, timid jerk with his mouth drawn into a tight, uneasy line, you can’t help but flinch.

“He’s never heard of it,” Taga says quietly, voicing your exact thoughts. He then immediately repeats it again more emphatically, anger coating his tongue. “He’s never heard of it.”

The reaction from the group varies from face to face when you force yourself to look. There’s Taga’s outrage mirrored in Xaul’s dark scowl, but there’s also Ulaf shaking his head with grim acceptance of his fate and Ham looking three shades paler like he’s just seen the face of death. Fury, disappointment, terror, the list goes on but nothing rattles your heart more than Melshi’s blank exterior. 

Numbness washes over you the longer you stare at him, the longer you fail to discern any sort of meaning. There’s nothing there. He may as well be a total stranger.

For the first time since you’ve gotten together, you can’t read him. 

“The Public Order Decree.” Jemboc’s still trying with Keef, like if he says it enough times it’ll jar something loose in the other man’s memories. “The re-evaluation of criminal sentences.”

“No,” Keef denies vehemently. “I’m sorry.”

“But all the rebel activity! They took down a whole garrison!”

“Rebel nonsense,” Xaul scoffs. “Bunch of bantha shit.”

Keef’s voice tightens, defensive. “I don’t know anything.”

“Of course not,” Ulaf says, rubbing at his knuckles rigorously. “We’re just a bunch of riffraff. Who’d want to worry about us?”

“But he’s just one guy,” Ham stammers, gesturing weakly at Keef. “M-maybe word just hasn’t spread yet.”

Any response is silenced by the slap of Melshi’s feet hitting the floor as he steps out of his cell. You sit up on your knees, unsure whether to stay silent or intervene. If Melshi would just look at you... 

This isn’t like when he drifts away, when his mind is occupied elsewhere but his body stays in the safety of your hold. No, this is a wall built on purpose warning you to back off. You can’t climb over it or knock it down. The only thing you can do is trust Melshi’s reasons for it. Trust he’ll let you inside when the timing’s right.

You trust Melshi with your life. Always will. But that doesn’t make the ache of being shut out hurt any less though.

“Don’t ever look at the number,” Melshi says, coming face to face with Keef. You shiver at the display of dominance, firm tone leaving no room for arguing. “Double, triple, it doesn’t fucking matter—”

“Hey!” Kino’s shout nearly has you jumping out of your skin, an embarrassing yelp escaping your lips.

Melshi doesn’t even bat an eye. “You’re here ‘til they don’t want you anymore. Get straight with that.”

The other inmates scatter like mice towards their own cells, practically leaping to get out of the way of a severely ticked-off Kino thundering down the hall. Your heartbeat quickens, threatening to burst.

“Melshi,” the manager barks, spittle flying. “That’s enough!”

“Rue,” you call out, rapidly looking back and forth between the men, worry spiking when you’re ignored. “Ruescott, leave it alone.”

“Anyone who thinks they’re getting out of here is dreaming,” Melshi finishes bluntly.  

The words come out jagged and sharp like shattered pieces of glass. Keef’s just staring at Melshi, brown eyes wide and dumbstruck and full of something you can’t quite label. And it’s strange, almost scary, how smoothly he transitions from an open book to a complex enigma in-between the blink of an eye. Maybe a chameleon is a better comparison than a turtle.

There isn’t any more time to dwell on your suspicions, not when Kino’s fists are seizing hold of Melshi by the shirt and throwing him against the wall, his face a snarling mask of rage.

“I said,” Kino hisses, “that’s enough.”

You’re on the floor in the next breath, ignoring the jarring of your ankles at the harsh landing as you press yourself against Melshi’s side. You reach for his hand and something softens inside of you when you find he’s reaching for you too, fingers intertwining. Indivisible. 

Kino looks down at your hands and then back up at your face, glare losing none of its heat. He says your name, and it takes all the willpower you possess not to duck your head like a disciplined child. “He makes one more scene, just one,” he warns, holding up a finger. “There won’t be any more sleepovers because he’ll be sleeping on the fucking floor. Are we clear?”

Melshi squeezes your hand.

You swallow, squeezing back. “Crystal.”

The alarm rings out—saved by the bell, you think, knees nearly go weak with relief—warning prisoners to return to their cells for lights out. Kino grunts, finally releasing his hold, and turns to address Keef. You ignore them in favor of Melshi, pulling insistently at your joined hands.

“Come on, Rue,” you murmur, bottom lip wobbling despite yourself. “Let’s get inside.”

Melshi’s gaze lingers on Kino for a moment, then Keef, and then, finally, he looks down at you and he’s back. Your Rue is back, fingers trailing over your jaw so delicately you can’t even think straight, can’t stop yourself from blurting out:

“Don’t shut me out again. Not you.”

“Dream—”

“I love you,” you say, tilting your head into his touch. The alarm’s blaring and your feet are on fire and he’s never once said those three precious words back, but none of that matters. He still needs to know. He still needs to understand. 

He’s it for you. The one and only keeper of your heart.

“Remember my promise, little dreamer,” he says softly, gently guiding you into the cell, pressing you down onto the cot as darkness falls. Forehead to forehead, words falling into your open mouth. “I’ll never leave you.”

And it sounds like I love you, too. Like You are mine. Like I’ll set this whole place on fire for you, just say the word.

You pull him in for a kiss, then another and another, sinking into each other, becoming one.

There are no doors in the sleep block. No corners or nooks of privacy. But when Melshi holds you in his arms, bodies pressed together in a tangled embrace of warmth, it feels as though the two of you might as well be the only souls left in the galaxy. 

—

You wake up to find yourself sprawled across Melshi’s back, face resting between his shoulders. It takes a couple of sluggish seconds to make sense of the unusual position, briefly wondering how you went from being curled into his side hours ago to this, before your semiconscious mind decides it’s not a mystery worth the effort of solving. 

Melshi’s still out, breathing slow and deep, on his stomach with his arms tucked under his head. He’s so pleasantly warm, you’re tempted to snuggle even closer and doze off again, but instinct tugs at you, an invisible thread demanding attention. You lift your head, squinting against the faintly glowing lights outlining the walls of the cells.

And then you see it. A dark shape curled up on the floor in the cell directly across. 

Keef.

You blink, taken aback, and there’s a dizzying second where you wonder if you’re still dreaming after all, but then Keef’s rubbing at his face with his sleeves and you realize he’s crying. Except he’s not making any sound. No muffled sobs racking his body or the sniffles of a snot-filled nose. Just tears trailing silent lines down his cheeks.

He’s completely stripped bare of all his facades, raw and exposed, and you should turn away, you know you should, but there’s something so utterly captivating about your first real glimpse of the man. Those tears, they must mean something. Heartache or hopelessness or some third profound emotion there isn’t a name for yet. 

You don’t know why Keef—or whatever his true name is—is lying, how he ended up here, or what he’s running from. But looking at him now, one damaged soul witnessing another, you realize how little those blank spots matter. He’s one of you now. No going back.

Welcome to the pack, Keef Girgo, you think, closing your eyes once more.

You dream of rushing water and blaster fire, a voice screaming over and over the same three words:

No way out. 

No way out.

No way out.

[tailorvizsla]

Title: A Night of Sexy Sex with Paz Vizsla (April Fool’s Day Fic) Pairing: Paz Vizsla x f!Reader, mentions of Armorer x Bo-Katan Rating: NC-17 Wordcount: ~4000 Warnings: Terrible euphemisms, PIV sex, unprotected sex. Literally the worst. Overuse of the words sex and sexy. One use of the word moist. Literally this is the worst thing I have ever inflicted onto myself. Author's Note: Part of the Bulbous Salutations exchange! The point of this is to write bad smut and to make people regret having eyes. Happy April Fool’s Day, y’all. :D

*Note: By continuing past the ‘keep reading’ thingie and reading this godforsaken fic, you hereby absolve me from any financial, legal, or moral obligation to pay for your therapy. I am poor. I cannot afford therapy for myself, much less anyone else. Thank u.

You’re not quite sure how Paz worked it out, but he knows that you’re a virgin. The Mandalorian equivalent of cin vhetin. Untouched snow, pure, unmarred by another warrior's touch or love emissions. You've never even held hands with a warrior. Well, except to like, rescue someone, or something. Never bare palm-to-palm contact, though - that was beyond your comfort level.

At first, when you were younger, you wanted to wait for someone to make it worth your time. It’s not like Mandalorians are inherently attached to the idea of virginity, or anything like that. But you did want someone you could trust to help you discover sexual pleasure like in those naughty novels. The ones where the verde have their helmets up over their noses, their lips crashing together in a passionate kiss while their armor has fallen somewhere onto the floor. The ones where if you'd bought them second hand, the pages would sometimes be stuck together. 

As the months and years went by, the partners you were with…they never felt quite right. It was never the right time. It was never for the right reason. And so you and your partners would move on. And now you’re at a point in life where you wonder if you’d made a mistake. 

If you should have just…fucked someone and gotten it over with. Maybe it would have worked out in the end. You’ve seen the raunchy vids the verde pass back and forth during deployments (they're also passing partners back and forth, too, those lucky bastards). You’ve read all the magazines that get your panties so wet you soak them, your pants, and the seat you're sitting on. You know what sex is, technically, but you’ve never experienced it.

So it feels strange to sit with the verde and listen to their exploits, occasionally adding your opinions when you really don’t have one. You’ve never had your pussy licked until you cried and screamed. You’ve never been fucked stupid, to the point where your brain leaves your head and you can't think. And you really wish you knew what it felt like. But, like always, you go back to your room and satisfy yourself with your fingers and that giant floppy vibrating thing you bought ages ago.

Vaguely, you wonder if you should have placed that order for the glow-in-the-dark tentacle heated attachments, just in case things don’t work out here.

Now, you are standing here in front of Paz's door, wondering if you’re finally going to say goodbye to your virginity the same way Armorer said goodbye to heterosexuality when she first saw Bo-Katan. You shift your weight from one foot to the other as you wait for him to open the door. After a few moments, you hear the door click and it swings open, revealing Paz's magnificent, thick, beefy frame. It's obvious he hasn't skipped any meals or workout sessions. He's so big and broad it makes your heart flutter in your chest.

He is not wearing his armor, which explains why you did not hear his footsteps. You worry your lip with your teeth as he shuts the door behind you. Normally, you would have never just jumped into bed with someone, but when you look at Paz - all sourness and grump and bad attitude - you know he’s the right verd for the job. He’s a good man underneath all that beskargam. And kute. And everything else. Look, point is, Paz is a good person. That's all that matters to you. And he’s sexy, so. Bonus points there.

“So,” you say to him. “When you woke up this morning, did you plan on being the one to pop the vacuum seal on my buy’ce?”

Paz chokes a bit.

“That’s a unique way to phrase that.”

A grin crosses your face.

“But…no,” he confesses. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to have sex with me at all.”

“I like you,” you respond with a shrug. “And even though I know you have a kink for my type…it goes both ways, you know?”

“...what’s your kink?” he asks curiously.

“Blindfolds, obviously,” you deadpan at him. He laughs in response as he shakes his head.

“We could get married,” he says. “That way, we can…you know, see what we are doing.”

“You’re the last person I would have expected to suggest marrying just so we can fuck,” you say out loud. He shrugs in response. “Alright,” you say. You’ve done stupider things than get married to have sex. Armorer has left plenty of dents on your armor due to your stupidity. What's another dent? She's going to have to fix it regardless. You and Paz swap vows as quickly as possible.

Then you reach up to take your bucket off. Paz hesitates for a moment, and then he follows suit, lifting his helmet to reveal his beautiful face. He's got a chiseled jawline and eyes like sapphires, glimmering in the fluorescent lighting. His hair is thick and glossy, and it sways slightly. Where is that breeze coming from? Mortification fills you as you realize he's waiting for you to speak. You grin at him.

“You’re cute,” you say.

He’s more than cute - he’s downright handsome under that bucket - but you’re not going to give him any more of a reason to inflate his ego. He smiles at you. Gods, his smile is beautiful and sexy, just like the rest of him. So, so irresistibly sexy.

“You too,” he remarks, and you decide that his voice is definitely the sexiest thing you’ve heard in your life.

Paz reaches for you. You inhale reflexively as his strong hands find your arms and wrap around them, as gently as a newborn loth kitten wrapped in a blanket. Gently, he strokes up to your shoulders, and then down along your breast plate to your hips. He carefully pulls you toward him. Then, he presses his forehead to yours in a Mandalorian kiss, making your breath hitch in your throat.

That feels nice, you decide, as you relax in his embrace. Hesitantly, you touch him, feeling the warmth of his body, the hard planes of his muscle. The unyielding beskargam under your fingertips. Paz lets out a purr of delight as he dims the light to something more comfortable for the two of you. The two of you start removing each other’s armor, piece by piece.

Soon, the two of you are standing there in only your kute. Your entire body feels warm and tight. Your breathing is more rapid, and you definitely feel your pulse in your throat. When you look at the zipper on his kute, you look away. Paz catches you and pulls you in, tilting your face up to his with two gentle fingers under your chin. You close your eyes and tug on his kute, eager to have your first kiss. Paz rumbles approvingly, his breath fanning across your lips.

Your first kiss is a chaste one - a simple press of his warm, dry lips against yours. You’re not quite sure how long it’s supposed to last, so you let him take the lead. Then he presses another kiss to your lips. And again. And again. Like he's trying to tap a sentence in da-di-da with his lips against your heated skin. His lips part slightly and he tilts his head and then he starts to nibble ever so gently. It feels like he's trying to suck on your tongue or something, but whatever, it feels nice. And very sexy. His mouth opens a bit more and his tongue darts out against your lower lip. 

It feels strangely good to have his hot mouth against yours, and your lips tingle as his tongue skims over them. Paz’s hands find your waist and skim upwards toward your chest. Heat fills you as he touches your breasts and tweaks your nipples through your kute, palming them like one would half-price muja fruit at a sus market stall. He pulls back slightly. The whine of protest that leaves you turns into a quiet moan as he kisses along your jaw. More heat fills you, like that one time you drank an entire bottle of tiingilar sauce on a dare.

Boldly, you reach up to undo the fastenings on his kute, inching the zipper down to reveal his chiseled pectoral muscles. Paz mirrors your gestures, never going faster than you. He carefully strips you down, his big, warm hands touching your breasts and cupping your ass. Paz guides you to the bed. Your chesticles bounce most boobily as you recline. So fucking sexy.

Paz carefully settles on the bedding with you. His weight makes the mattress dip toward the center. It’s dark in the room and you’re so shy you can’t even look in his direction. Paz catches your hand in his and guides it to his pectoral. You squeeze gently. His man titty feels so good in your hand. He flexes the muscle, making it jump in your hands.

“Touch me more,” he says. “Please?”

With shaking fingers, you touch his mountain-like shoulder, taking a moment to trace a scar across the skin there. Then your fingers drift down along his belly. It's soft, but firm, with a sparse forest of hair that dips down to his manhood area. You don’t go down too far, though - you’re not quite ready for that yet.

“Might be more comfortable if you sit on me,” Paz says. “You won’t have to lean over as much. And you’ll be in complete control, mesh’la.”

“Alright,” you whisper. He guides you onto him, your knees on either side of him, something hard and twitching against your belly. You assume it's his love Javelin missile, ready to pierce your pleasure target and explode on target. You resist the urge to look down, instead focusing your attention on the scars littering his ultra sexy skin.

“There we go,” he groans. “See, mesh’la? You can touch any part of me you want like this. I’ll just hold you and let you take your time.”

His hands settle on your hips, warm and strong as they massage your supple flesh. You continue exploring his torso, taking a moment to squeeze his nipple the same way he had squeezed yours. He inhales deep, a low noise of pleasure escaping him. You mentally file that away - he seems to like having his sexy man nipples played with. Finally, you know you’re ready to touch him there. You’re pretty sure he’s ready too. Swallowing, you work up the courage to reach out and touch his bulbous beef bayonet. It jumps against your belly and you jerk back.

“S’alright,” he says. “It’s just a little excited.”

His hand guides yours back to his cock. Swallowing, you wrap your hand around him gently. His skin is silky soft and warm, like slipping into a hot Denovian mud bath after hours of hard work. You know warriors are sensitive in this area, but you don’t know how much so. You’re afraid to hurt him, so you loosen your grip as you stroke it. Paz throbs and pulsates in your hand. It is super sexy.

“Don’t be scared, mesh’la. It won’t bite.”

His hand wraps around yours, squeezing you around him in a much tighter grip. 

“Just like that,” he says. “Just like that, don’t be scared…oh yeah, just like that.”

You aren’t sure if he’s really that into it, or if he’s putting on a show for you, but you feel much better knowing that this is bringing him pleasure despite your inexperienced touch. You wrap both hands around him the same way a rath'tar wraps itself around its prey, gnawing on your lower lip as you trace the veins on his thick, meaty baby-batter shooter.

Up at the top, you find he looks a lot like the diagrams. The head is round and blunt, with a slit in the tip. A droplet of pearly white love juice gathers there. Impulsively, you swipe your finger through his creamy Sichuan daddy sauce and lick it. It’s not what you expected, but it’s not unpleasant. Paz lets out a startled groan and his throbbing purple disco stick jumps in your hand again. A very generous glob of baby gravy leaks out and onto your hand as you stroke again. 

“What do you think?” he asks gently. “Does it taste good?”

Embarrassment fills your stomach.

“Uhm…yeah,” you say. “Not…not what I expected, but…uhm…it’s not bad.”

He looks delighted at your words.Then Paz grips your hip.

“Scoot forward a bit,” he urges. You obey, and your clit presses up against his fleshy pokey impregnation stick. Heat fills your entire body again. It’s so close to…there. “Move your hips - yeah, just like that, mesh’la. Do you feel it rubbing up against your little clit?”

“Y-Yes,” you whisper to him.

“Does it feel good?” he asks. “Do you feel your sweet'n'salty love juices getting my manhood all nice and slick?”

“Uh-huh,” you whimper. “Paz…I…”

“What is it, mesh’la?”

“Paz, I…I uh…I think I want it. Inside.”

“Not yet, mesh’la,” he says gently. “I want to make sure you’re really ready for it, alright?”

You nod, grinding your hips against that wet, firm ridge underneath you. His hands guide you on his girthy dipstick, and you’re too embarrassed to look at him. You can hear the wet noises of your bodies sliding together. Is it normal for that to happen? You can’t bring yourself to ask. If something isn’t right, he’ll tell you. But there's so much of it. It's all over his belly and thighs and you're pretty sure the novels didn't mention a literal tsunami of poonani juice.

“Good girl,” he rumbles up at you. “Look so good like that, mesh’la, grinding up against my flesh bes'bev like you can’t wait to have it in you. Does it feel good having it this close to your pretty little hole?"

You nod, unsure if you can even speak coherently right now.

“Every time you grind against me, I can feel you getting wetter and wetter,” he continues. “Your panty porg knows what to do with a big, hard sausage…it knows exactly where this babymaker is going to go, doesn’t it?”

A little noise escapes you.

“I bet your fingers don’t make your love channel all greedy and hungry the way my pulsating pussy plug does,” Paz says. “I bet your toys won’t feel half as good as having me all the way inside you.”

The thought of having him in there, inside your undiscovered lands, pressing up against your insides, stretching your walls the way your fingers and toys can’t, has you wild. You roll your hips again and you feel that knot in your belly break wide open. A moan escapes you, another gush of creamy coochie cum seeping out to drench Paz’s cumslinger.

Paz rolls you down onto the bed. Like this, it feels much nicer. He’s warm and strong and there’s something about the way his body covers yours like a weighted blanket. The way his hips fit between your thighs. Shyly, you turn away. Paz turns your face back to his and kisses gently. Then he works his way down, kissing your straining nip-noops and biting your hip bone. 

“Oh, mesh’la,” he growls at you. “Can’t wait to taste you. Can’t wait to send your pussy into hyperdrive.”

“Uhm,” you stammer out. “T-taste?...hyperdrive???”

“Tell me,” he says roughly. “Has anyone else gotten to taste you between the legs?”

“N-No,” you whisper. “Nobody…”

“No one’s been down here at all?” he asks. “Doctor doesn’t count. No fingers, tongues, or anything else?”

“No one,” you respond. “Uhm..only my own fingers…and my toy…”

“Good girl,” he whispers, placing a kiss against your clit. “Saving it up all for me…” A whine escapes you as his tongue darts out against your aching, throbbing clit. He hums in delight. His tongue probes between your lips, sliding up and then back down. “I’m about to fucking explode, mesh’la. Gonna cum all over myself just having you in my mouth.”

He’s slurring his words. He almost sounds drunk. He licks again and again, one hand keeping your hips pinned to the bed while the other spreads your flesh folds apart. Paz’s tongue delves in deeper as another moan escapes him.

“Gods,” he rasps out, his fingers spreading you wider apart. His tongue dips inside you, making your eyes roll back as you whine. “Like that, huh? Like having my tongue in you?” He drags his tongue back up to the little helmeted warrior in a boat, where he teases you with the tip of his tongue for a few moments. Then he works his way back down. 

“Fuck,” he stutters out. “All mine, only mine.”

He buries his face between your thighs, his tongue and lips working at your uber moist flower petals. He slurps and moans and purrs, sounding like a Wookie in heat. Then you feel his finger circling your unbreeched gates, your unconquered pleasure cove.

“Can I?” he asks, his eyes dark and wild as he meets yours. You nod shyly. You let out a little noise as he starts sliding his finger in. “Let me know if it’s too much for you, mesh’la. I’ll be gentle, I promise…” 

He dips his head back down as he pumps his finger in and out slowly, his tongue working at your outside pleasure doorbell. He sounds like a strill eating a bowl full of protein paste, loud but kind of endearing. Then he eases a second finger into your lockbox of love. His fingers feel so good inside! Your walls begin to quiver around his thick intruding digits, squeezing each time he pulls out, milking them the way you'll eventually be milking the green milk out of his one-eyed Thala-siren.

Paz groans and slurps at your clit, drinking up your pussy nectar like a man who has been trapped in a desert for weeks and you are the only source of hydration...that line sounded much sexier in the naughty holonovel. Maybe he’s savoring the dew on your flower petals???

"So good," he slurs. "So fuckin' good, wish I could live between your legs, mesh'la."

His fingers curl inside you and press up against your swollen interior doorbell - wait, who has an interior doorbell??? He presses up against your light switch of pleasure, making you squeak with delight. As you get closer and closer, Paz's enthusiastic vocalizations get louder and louder. He plunges his fingers into you and you cry out when he fingers your wet, slippery pink taco like he's a pianist and your vag is his piano.

"Ahhh! Paz!!!" you shriek as you finally reach your peak. "YES! Ahhhh!!!"

Your walls explode around him and you finish, crying out his name as the pleasurable waves squeeze and flutter. Paz pulls his fingers out like that one guy pulling a sword out of a rock. His fingers are wrinkled and wet, like he has spent way too long in the bath. He sucks on his fingers like he's trying to suck boba through a slightly too small straw.

"So fucking good," he rasps out.

Then he crawls onto the bed with you, sliding his third leg between yours, resting it on your mound of love. It spews out a jet of white, gooey erectoplasm onto your belly. Then, locking eyes with you, Paz angles himself into you, and gently starts to push in. He feels so gigantic inside you. As he keeps inching his massive love spear into your love spear holder, you cry out passionately, your eyes rolling back inside your head. 

You're not sure how, but he keeps fitting more and more of his Star Destroyer inside your humble shuttlecraft-sized hangar bay. Finally, he bottoms out, and you swear Paz's hymen hammer is poking you somewhere behind your left lung. A squeal, much like a minoch in heat, escapes you, and Paz lets out a noise like thunder as he moans and shakes. He starts to thrust slowly, his cock disappearing into you. You wonder if he's a magician because there's no way he should be able to fit inside you. Maybe he uses portals, like that one game you played once?

"Oh, fuck," he groans. "Fuck, you're gonna snap my turgid Manly Man Shaft in half, cyare. Your virgin hole is so tight I swear to Kad'Harangir it squeaks each time I pull out."

Once your slippery love tunnel starts to adjust around him, Paz starts moving faster, thrusting even deeper before, making you wonder if he's prospecting for beskar deep inside your Mines of Mandalore. So fucking sexy. The bed rocks and shakes with each devastating thrust into you - you swear you can hear the frame clattering each time it lifts off the ground. The headboard slams into the wall over and over, and a bit of drywall dust falls into your eyes, making them water up.

"Don't cry," Paz croons. "I bet it feels good, doesn't it?"

You're being fucked too stupid to respond, so you settle for a high-pitched grunt/whine.

"Look at you taking this trouser snake," he groans. "Pounding so deep into you it makes your belly bulge - "

You wipe some of the drywall dust out of your eye and look down. Yup, definitely. Each time he thrusts into you, you can see the tip of his cock in your abdomen, as if his helmeted sausage soldier is trying to get your attention. Your pulsating pussy starts to pulsate even more, squeezing around his cock like a warm, wet, velvety fist trying its best to squeeze his soul out through his pipi. Paz grunts and groans, his hips slapping against yours wetly. Vaguely, you can hear someone hammering on the wall.

" - it's three in the fucking morning, you dipshits! KEEP IT QUIET - "

The two of you ignore the other person and keep going. You scream as you orgasm around his cock. Pure electricity shoots through your entire body. Just like that one time you were trying to plug your data pad in to charge, but the charger was under your bed, so you were going at it blind, and you ended up touching the electrical prongs by accident. Your bearded clam gushes its sweet and salty clam juices, mixing with his pre-cum to create sex chowder, and you can feel the dampness spreading underneath you like high tide at love time as Paz just keeps hammering away.

"Cyare," Paz bellows. He roars like a hungry Wookiee. Or maybe that was more of an angry Wookie? Horn-gry??? "Oh, cyare! I’m gonna impregnate you! I’m gonna knock you up so many times the Mandostork is gonna stop coming to our Tribe!”

"PaaaAAAaZZZ!" you wail. "Ahh! Aaaa ~ Oh nhhh ah ah yessss! ~ ♡♡♡ ~ harder harder harder!!!!!!!!1!"

He keeps hammering into you. You're not sure if the pounding noise is the bedframe against the floor or if your neighbor is trying to beat the door down. But, again, the two of you ignore them, and Paz goes into hyperdrive. He's fucking into you so hard and fast his bald-headed buir maker is a blur inside you as it pistons and churns your insides into a pre-orgasmic puddle of goo. More and more of your beautiful, bountiful bajingo broth coats your thighs, his thighs, and the bed.

Your wails grow louder and louder as another orgasm starts to descend upon you.

" - please for the love of Kad'Harangir, Arasuum, and the Two Sisters - "

You climax again for the fifth or sixth time that night. He moans and grunts.

"You're so tight you're cutting off circulation to my diiiick," Paz hisses. "Gonna cum again - "

With another deafening roar, Paz finishes, his heat-seeking meat missile shooting jets of man cream into your penis fly trap like a Mandalorian quasar of love. He just keeps cumming, filling you so much that your nether regions can no longer hold it back. His weiner sauce sprays out, coating the bed in millions of fallen future Mandalorian warriors. He groans. With an obscene slurp, he pulls out. His cock is still half-hard, rising proudly above the forest of pubes, like a really tall cylindrical volcano spewing white magma. He puts his hands on his hips and smirks.

"Did you enjoy yourself, cyare?"

"Yes, Paz!" you exclaim as you collapse on the bed. 

He smirks and joins you on the bed.

"When can we have round two?" you simper up at him.

Paz's massive long dong beskar starts to stiffen. It stands at attention like a proud warrior would. It glistens in the dim light. He smirks.

"How about now?" he asks.

You giggle and pull him down onto you for a night of super sexy, passionate baby-making.

-

-

-

A special thank you to my husband for “creamy Sichuan daddy sauce”.

[cosmereplay]

Happy Fanfic Friday! This week it's all about being union strong - Bridge Four style ✊🏽

UNITE THEM by whoreship

Rated Mature, 4000 words. Kaladin is helping to organize a union for the workers at the Bridge Four warehouse, where products are stored before they’re shipped out for Amaram Prime delivery. His main goals? Improve workplace safety, require accountability from the execs (like Sadeas and Amaram himself), and empower his fellow workers. But as to what his fellow workers want to do with that power, well…

General-rated excerpt below the cut:

Kaladin gradually got the men to settle down and form a big circle at the center of the room. Kaladin had dragged out an easel with a large pad of paper, where Sigzil was writing the agenda for the day. “Hey folks, good to see everyone,” Kaladin said, glancing at the copy of the agenda on his laptop. “Do we have a volunteer to take notes?” Sigzil raised his hand. (He was the only one who ever raised his hand.) “Thanks, Sig. Also, the shirts came out great, and it was awesome to see everyone wearing theirs today. I think the managers and the managers’ managers really took notice of how many of us were there today, wearing the BFWWU blue. Leyten, how are we doing on union swag?” “I still have plenty of stickers and caps, as well as beanies! We did run out of the t-shirts, so I’ve got another batch ordered, hopefully with a size that will actually fit Rock.” Rock grinned, his arms folded over his massive chest. He’d had to turn his shirt into a tank top by cutting off the sleeves to even make it halfway fit. “Sounds good, do we have any report-backs from the folks who were reaching out to the Bridge 17 warehouse?” “Me and Skar talked to them,” Drehy said. “Yeah, but they kind of just laughed in our faces,” Skar added. Kaladin’s gut twisted — that was never a good feeling. “They’re just jealous, gon!” Lopen said. “They don’t have happy hours or potlucks or the promise of free chouta!” “Lopen,” Kaladin said, hand to his head, “I don’t know where you got the idea that we would be bargaining for free chouta benefits—” The room suddenly erupted into noise. “Wait, we’re not getting free chouta?!”

Keep reading

[the-ragingenby]

This was supposed to be finished like four days ago for Valentine’s. Um. Oopsies.

Anyway, it was supposed to be short, but it kept getting longer and longer the more I stared at it.

I’m not sure if I like this, but take some fluffy Morgan and Reid shenanigans.

Edit: Cross-posted to my AO3, if you prefer to read it there.

~ 4000 words

Sweet Tooth

“Hey, pretty boy.” Morgan leaned over Reid’s shoulder as he poured another packet of sugar into his coffee mug. “That coffee looks like it's five parts sugar, one part coffee.” Reid rolled his eyes, sweeping loose sugar into his hand as he moved to throw it away. 

“It’s not like it's all sugar. There’s some creamer in there too. Somewhere.” He rolled back over in his chair, leaning back to gaze up at Morgan. “And what are you doing here? Don’t you have anything better to do?” 

“Other than spending time with my pretty boy? No, not really.” Morgan smiled widely at Reid, poking gently at his forehead. Reid stuck out his tongue, teasing. 

“Oh, please. Go pester Garcia or something. I’m certain she’ll humor you.” Reid waved his hand dismissively, returning his gaze back to the files he’d been going over.

“But she’s not the one I wanna tease right now, pretty boy.” Morgan leaned closer, reading over Reid’s shoulder. 

“Go on, shoo.” Reid gently pushed Morgan away. “I’m busy.” Morgan raised his hands in defeat and edged away towards Garcia’s cave. 

“Garcia, baby, did you hear that? Reid says he’s too busy for me!” Morgan whined, disappearing into the darkness that could loosely be considered an office. 

“I heard everything!” Garcia stuck her head out and glared, albeit playfully, at Reid. “You gotta treat Morgan right, Reid! Show him some love. Be nice!”  She squinted at him as menacingly as she could muster before sliding back into the office and letting the door close behind her. 

“They’re being more insufferable than usual.” Prentiss noted amusedly as she sipped at her own coffee. 

“Mhm. I guess things will get interesting around here pretty soon.” JJ added, laughing when Reid raised a questioning eyebrow at her. 

“Other than getting really noisy, and possibly drawing unwanted attention and concern from other agents, I can’t imagine what you two are getting at.” Reid said, turning his gaze back to his work yet again, determined to finish his report on the last two files that sat on his desk. 

Prentiss and JJ shared a knowing glance, leaving Reid in his confusion. 

“So Reid’s got a sweet tooth.” Morgan murmured, tapping his fingers idly against Garcia’s desk. 

“I’m almost certain he’s partial to chocolates too. He seems like the type.” Garcia added, swiveling in her chair to type something onto her computer. “Yeah, yeah, these ones seem good.” She turned the monitor to the side, allowing Morgan to look at a few popular chocolate brands.

“Now, baby girl, I hate to ask this again but why shouldn’t I just talk to Reid about it? Wouldn't it be easier to just ask the guy what he likes?” 

“That’s just it! You need to give chase! Just asking Spencer about it would be too easy. And he’ll probably get suspicious.” Garcia explained, twirling her pen excitedly in her hand. Morgan laughed and gently spun her in her chair.

“Garcia, don’t you think all the incessant teasing is just as suspicious? And in any case, even with all that brain power he’s got, he’s about as bright as a bag of rocks when it comes to most romantic things.” He sighed. “So I think we’re good regardless.” 

“You just wanna do things the easy way.” Garcia whined. “And that’s boring!” 

“Boring or not, I don’t wanna blow things with Reid.” Morgan dodged, shocked, as Garcia flung one of her decorative trinkets at him.

“And inviting him to a club with everyone else tagging along is going to help things…how? You know he isn’t the clubbing type!” Garcia retorted. “And I’d hardly call that boring. Or conventional for that matter.” 

“Then what do you suggest?” Morgan asked, leaning forward. “And it’s gotta be someplace open late, since we don’t normally get out until after sunset, at the earliest.” 

“Ah, you’re right.” Garcia tapped her pen thoughtfully against her chin. “Maybe a 24-hour diner. That one just by the park.”

“Garcia. I haven’t been there in years.” Morgan said pointedly.

“Yeah, I get that, but this place is renowned for its desserts. I’m talking cakes, cookies, pastries, milkshakes, assorted ice cream type stuff. Reid would have a field day!” Garcia insisted. Morgan shifted in his chair before letting out a sigh. 

“Fine, fine. I’ll…see how it goes.” He relented. “If we don’t get a case.”

“Ah, there. You’ve jinxed it. Now I bet Hotch will stick his head out of his office and call us into the conference room.”

~

Lo and behold, the BAU did indeed get called onto a new case. This time, it was a serial killer who kidnapped women that reminded him of his long-dead sister, forcing them to fulfill that role for him. 

Although it took the team a few days, in the end, the unsub was apprehended and his latest victim was rescued, if just barely. 

“That was certainly one of our more interesting cases.” Prentiss sighed, plopping into her usual chair on the plane. 

“I’m just glad we managed to get to her in time. The odds were not in our favor, to say the least.” Reid added, almost distractedly as he positioned himself across a few chairs in preparation for a “nap”. Morgan knew by now that Reid didn’t really sleep on the plane rides often, he just liked listening to gossip, the sly thing.  

“Aw, you’re going to bed already, Reid?” Morgan asked, teasing, sitting just beside his head. “Thought we were gonna have a nice chat about after work plans.”

“Do I hear clubbing plans? Because I’m in. Since we’ve got the day off thanks to Hotch’s girlfriend. And I won’t have to deal with having a hangover at work the next day!” Prentiss gasped. JJ nudged her sharply. 

“No way. We’re having a girl’s night with Garcia. Let Morgan and Reid have their fun.” JJ replied, eyeing Morgan knowingly. Morgan fought hard not to roll his eyes. 

“After work, I plan to go home and sleep.” Reid muttered, stifling a yawn. 

“Could I bribe you with promises of desserts? Your pick.” Morgan added. At that, Reid glanced up, intrigued. 

“That’s suspiciously kind of you.” He paused, then squinted suspiciously. “By the time we get back, it’ll be past midnight, thus officially St. Valentine’s Day. Don’t you have someone else you’d rather be spending that time with? Typically, it’s a romantic occasion for one to spend with their significant other or romantic interest. However the background of the holiday is actually very intriguing, and it makes me wonder why people romanticize it so much.” 

“I’m gonna stop you right there, Reid.” Prentiss groaned. “If you ruin one more holiday for me, I’m going to lose it.” Reid twisted to stick his tongue out at her, but settled into silence. 

“Valentine’s or not, I just wanted to spend time with you, pretty boy.” Morgan admitted, poking at Reid. Reid nodded slowly, though he looked a little confused. 

“If you’re sure. And if you don’t have anyone else you’d rather be spending the day with. I’m sure you’ve got plenty to choose from.” Before Morgan could retort, Reid continued. “My place or yours?”

“Uh, mine.” Morgan replied, a little stunned. He really didn’t think it would be that easy. Reid nodded and closed his eyes again, nudging his head into Morgan’s lap and promptly drifting off to dreamland. Or so it seemed. Morgan wasn’t sure he could really trust Reid’s supposedly sleeping form. 

“Awww, that’s adorable!” JJ snickered. 

“And you two were complaining about my ‘girlfriend’. We aren’t even dating officially.” Hotch muttered from behind his newspaper, glancing up at Prentiss and JJ with his usual unwavering stare. 

“Alright, alright, fine.” Prentiss relented. “But, this is way cuter, in my humble opinion.” Hotch rolled his eyes at her, but eventually gave the slightest of nods, agreeing with her sentiments.

“Guys, come on now.” Morgan groaned, nudging Reid gently. “You’re making me look bad here, pretty boy. I know you’re awake.” Reid let out a soft whine and pushed himself further into Morgan’s lap, adding to the whole charade with a little snore. 

JJ clapped her hand over her mouth as she gasped, and Garcia was frantically flailing her arms from the webcam, trying to send some sort of signal to Morgan. He wasn’t really sure what she was trying to say, though. Eventually, knowing Reid would not admit to being awake, Morgan decided to run his fingers through Reid’s hair.

He’d never really touched it, save for the occasional ruffle here and there, but this was purposeful. 

“If you’re going to indulge in romantics, at least do it outside of work hours.” Rossi groaned, making a gagging motion with his hand. Reid smiled, then remembered he was supposed to be asleep and retook his restful expression. 

“You little shit, I knew you were awake.” Morgan laughed. Reid let out a contented sigh and gently pushed his head into Morgan’s touch. God, I would give anything just to stay like this forever. 

~

They arrived back at Quantico not long after, and Morgan felt a little bad having to wake up Reid, who did fall asleep at some point. “You still on for our little excursion? It’s no big deal if you don’t want to.” Morgan asked, carrying his go-bag as he headed to the elevator.

“No, no. I want to. As long as you don’t have any problems with me crashing at your place tonight.” Reid said, carefully studying Morgan’s expression as they made their way down to the garage. Morgan couldn’t help but laugh.

“Spence, when have I ever had an issue with you being at my apartment? It’ll be fine.” Morgan smiled reassuringly at Reid, who fiddled with his messenger bag nervously. Reid cleared his throat and nodded.

The pair drove in silence, Reid not bothering to ask where they were going exactly. He was content to look out the window, occasionally tightening his grip on the armrests as Morgan made particularly tight turns. 

They eventually pulled into the parking lot of the diner, with Reid’s eyes going wide in surprise. “How’d you know I like this place? I come here pretty often.” Morgan glanced at Reid, desperately keeping his cool.

“Oh, you know. You’re really into sweets, and these guys are practically known for them. So I thought you’d like it. That’s all,” Morgan replied, gently nudging him. Damn it, Garcia! Why didn’t you tell me this place was his favorite! It would’ve made things a little easier. 

Reid smiled gently, though he still looked a little nervous. Tense, even. But he was confident enough to lead the way inside and carefully glance over the menu as they waited to be seated, trying to decide what he wanted beforehand. “You can get whatever you want, Reid. We can take it to-go, so we don’t have to stay out any later. I mean, only if you want to, though.” 

“Really?” Reid paused, hesitant. “Are you sure?” Morgan waved his hand dismissively. 

“I’m always sure when it comes to treating you right, pretty boy,” Morgan replied, wincing internally at just how corny it sounded, even for him. Reid blinked at him, wide-eyed, but eventually nodded. 

When a waitress came over, she took Reid’s to-go order, reappearing about fifteen minutes later with a couple bags in her hands. Morgan stood up and paid, following Reid out of the diner and back to the car. “So what did you get?” Morgan asked curiously as he drove back to his apartment. 

“Well, they had cinnamon rolls tonight, so I got one of those. I thought about getting a milkshake, but eventually decided against it. Since your place isn’t more than ten minutes away, even with traffic, I figured getting a slice of ice cream cake was safe enough. And then I got you something as well. But that’s a surprise.” Reid explained, carefully holding the bags in his lap. Morgan raised an eyebrow, a little stunned, but he didn’t pry any further. If it’s a surprise, it’s a surprise. 

Back at Morgan’s apartment, Reid set down the bags on the coffee table and quickly went about taking out his desserts. As he settled comfortably, with Morgan sitting beside him, he slid over a styrofoam container sheepishly. “This one’s mine?” Morgan asked, taking the container and popping it open. 

Inside was a delicately placed slice of red velvet cake, with minimal frosting, a strawberry centerpiece, and a heart drawn around the cake in strawberry syrup. Morgan stared down at it in surprise, not expecting such a gesture from Reid of all people. “I should probably explain, right?” He didn’t wait for Morgan to reply. “So, I know you aren’t really a fan of sweets, especially frosting. But you like fruits and such, including strawberries. I asked my friend, who was the waitress, what she’d recommend and she said she could make some adjustments to the red velvet cake. I didn’t think it would be so…extravagant? But, um, it’s Valentine’s, so I figured you wouldn’t mind too much.” Reid nervously cleared his throat. “Besides, if you don’t like it, I’ll eat it.” He added sheepishly. 

“Reid.” Morgan said, trying to form a coherent sentence that didn’t make him sound like a lovesick fool. Reid looked away, deciding to start on his ice cream cake before it melted. “That was adorable. I don’t think I’ve gotten something like this before. But I love it, especially because it's from you.” 

Reid looked taken aback, plastic fork held carefully in his mouth as he tipped his head to the side, like a puppy. He looked like he wanted to say something, but resolved to finish his cake before it melted. Morgan took the opportunity to try his own cake, relishing in the flavor. He knows me so well. Reid set aside his utensils, eyeing his cinnamon roll before refocusing on Morgan. “Oh. That’s good.” He hesitated for a moment, then decided to start on the cinnamon roll, clearly deciding to avoid talking anymore, most likely out of embarrassment. 

They ate in silence for a while. Once they’d both finished, Morgan turned to face Reid, sliding forward until he sat inches away from Reid. “Listen, Reid. I wanted to be more tactful about this, really, but if I go back to work tomorrow and tell Garcia I didn’t go through with it, she’d kill me.” Morgan drew in a deep breath, shifting slightly in his seat. “I like you, Reid. A lot. And I love this dynamic we have going, but what I really want is to…be by your side.”

“But you already are. More often than not, actually.” Reid tipped his head endearingly once more, then paused, his mouth falling open slightly in realization. “Morgan, you don’t mean that you…” Reid trailed off, eyes wide and searching Morgan’s face for a definite answer. 

“Ah, that was kinda childish. Hang on.” Morgan reached forward, gently taking Reid’s face into his hands and pressing his forehead against Reid’s. “I love you, Dr. Spencer Reid. So much. And…I hope that it doesn’t make you uncomfortable, or anything like that. I don’t want you to feel forced to reciprocate-”

Reid leaned in and carefully, awkwardly, kissed Morgan, pressing as close as he could. After a moment, he pulled away. “Yeah, I, uh, figured. You aren’t very subtle y’know, Mr. Ladies Man.” Morgan blinked, frozen in shock. Reid initiated that kiss. Morgan hardly had to do a thing. This was not what he was expecting at all, but he wasn’t complaining. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have done that. I should have let you finish talking. You were probably going to add some sort of ‘but’ or something to that statement.”

Morgan kissed him this time, partially to shut him up, and to just feel his lips against his own once more. “Spence, sweetheart, I wouldn’t say things like this or act this way if I didn’t mean it.” Morgan whispered as he pulled away, just taking in the view of a very flustered Reid sitting beside him. “I love you, because I just do. You’re an amazing person, and I feel like I’m the luckiest person in the world by just being able to work with you.”

Reid swallowed nervously, then exhaled slowly. “I love you too, Derek Morgan.”  Reid admitted softly, smiling sheepishly. “I guess I was never really able to label what this feeling was until recently, but this just feels right. And I…couldn’t imagine not being by your side. Whether as work partners or more than that…”  

“Then, Dr. Spencer Reid, would you do me the honor of officially becoming my boyfriend?” Morgan asked gently, feeling his face grow warm with embarrassment as Reid laughed. 

“You know, with all the flirting you’ve been doing with me, it feels like we’ve been together for ages.” Reid murmured, pressing his head against Morgan’s palm, trying to get him to run his fingers through his hair again. When Morgan relented, Reid continued. “But of course I will. So long as you keep spoiling me with treats.” Morgan’s lips twitched into an easy smile.

“Oh, so you’re just keeping me around for the free food?” Morgan huffed playfully, falling back into the easy banter they’ve always had. 

“Yeah, basically. But the whole boyfriend thing is a nice plus, I suppose.” Reid replied slyly, sticking out his tongue at Morgan’s exaggerated gasp. 

“You are such a little shit, baby.” Morgan murmured, taking his hand from Reid’s hair, despite his whine of protest, and flicked his nose playfully. 

“Mm. But you love it.” Reid teased, fighting back a yawn as a wave of sleepiness washed over him.

“I do. And I love you.” Morgan replied, easing himself off the couch and tugging Reid along with him. “Now, it’s bedtime. You’re exhausted, and I’m not passing up this opportunity to cuddle with you in bed. Come on.” 

Reid let himself be led to Morgan’s bedroom and, after deciding to make the logical decision to change into more comfortable clothing, the pair flopped into bed together, drifting off to sleep.

Or so Morgan thought.

It had hardly been a couple hours when Reid poked Morgan awake. “Morgan?” Morgan hummed in response, slowly opening one eye to look over at Reid who should have been asleep already. “How long have you known?”

“Known what?” Morgan asked, voice rough with sleep. Reid sighed and pressed closer against him.

“That you, y’know…” Reid trailed off, nervous again. “That you liked, loved, me.”

Stifling a yawn, Morgan thought about it for a moment. “I’ve liked you since I met you, Reid. As for love, I think since Elle left. Losing a member of the team like that really forced me to think, and made me realize how I’d feel if I would have lost you too.” Reid’s eyes went wide, stunned. “Now you can tell me all about your feelings in the morning, but right now it’s sleepytime. Goodnight, pretty boy.” 

“Goodnight.” Reid relented, settling comfortably in his spot against Morgan’s chest and let his gentle breathing lull him to sleep. 

~

By the time Morgan woke up, it was early afternoon. Reid was still fast asleep in his arms, clinging tightly as though afraid Morgan would disappear during the night. “Morning, sleepyhead.” Morgan said, pressing a kiss against Reid’s forehead. Reid groaned and tried to disappear underneath the covers.

“Let me sleep.” Reid muttered, squeezing his eyes tightly closed. Morgan laughed softly, now only being able to see the mop that was Reid’s hair poking out from the covers. 

“Fine, fine.” Morgan relented, laying down again and letting Reid tug him closer.

The pair lounged there for hours, until Morgan finally decided they at least needed to get up and get something to eat. Carefully extracting himself from Reid’s vice grip, he slipped into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee, knowing Reid would probably demand one as soon as he was properly awake. 

Setting aside his own cup, he took a bowl of mixed fruit he had in the fridge and warmed a bagel for himself and a muffin for Reid. “I smell coffee.” Morgan glanced to the side to see Reid leaning against Morgan’s shoulder, spying at the food he put out. 

“Yes, and good morning to you too, pretty boy.” Morgan said, taking a fork and placing it in the fruit bowl. Reid snatched the muffin and shuffled to the couch. It was only then that Morgan noticed Reid had stolen one of the blankets and had it draped over himself. “Are you that cold, baby?” Reid huffed and began nibbling on his muffin.

“Freezing, actually. I woke up the moment you left because it’s cold and I don’t understand how you have the temperature here so low.” Reid complained, taking another big bite of his  muffin. “I will accept the muffin and coffee as an apology though.” Morgan rolled his eyes and followed Reid, placing a mug of coffee on the table in front of him. 

“I’m not sure if I added enough sugar for your taste, but it should be better than BAU coffee, at the very least.” Morgan admitted, leaning against Reid as he ate his bagel. Reid analyzed it for a moment before taking a sip, nodding in approval. 

“It’s passable.” Reid decided, smiling wickedly at Morgan’s playfully offended expression. “I’m kidding! It’s a lot better than the stuff we get at the BAU for sure. In comparison to that, this may as well be liquid gold. Though I guess that wouldn’t taste very good, now that I think about it.” 

Once they finished their breakfast, although it would be closer to dinner at this point, Morgan finally turned to Reid. “Alright, seriously. My curiosity is killing me.” Morgan sighed dramatically. “You woke me up at like three in the morning to ask when I knew I loved you, and I didn’t get to hear your reasoning in response. So, talk to me.” 

Reid shifted under the thick blanket, trying to hide but eventually relenting and poking his head out once more. Instead of answering right away, Reid slid forward into Morgan’s lap, resting against his chest. Reid gently nudged Morgan’s hand with his head, silently commanding Morgan’s fingers to find their way back into his hair. “At first, I didn’t like you much. Thought you were an overachieving playboy.” Reid admitted bluntly, causing Morgan to pause in his petting to chuckle quietly. “But after a while, you changed. You became more empathetic and risked your life time and time again to stand for something you believed in or to save someone. And I admired that, even when I often got into situations myself. Whenever that happened, I wasn’t too afraid, because I knew that you’d find me, and save me.”

“Reid.” Morgan murmured, smiling when Reid ducked his head embarrassed. 

“I’ve felt this way for a long time, but I’ve just never been able to pinpoint it. I’ve spoken to JJ about it but never in this much detail.” Reid added, disappearing under the blanket again.

“That’s adorable.You’re adorable. You have no idea how cute you are, Spence.” Morgan whispered, tugging the blanket off far enough to not-so sneakily plant another kiss on Reid’s forehead. Reid whined, both from the affections and the cold air. “Garcia knows about everything I’ve felt. I didn’t really want to tell her, or anyone for that matter. But there’s no hiding things from that girl.” 

“Then I’ll have to thank her tomorrow for providing me with a source of free food. And head pats.” Reid snickered, tugging the blanket back over his head to dodge Morgan’s playful tap.

“Yeah, yeah. And I bet that she won’t believe you if you said you made the first move.” Morgan chuckled. Reid huffed, but made no move to argue, content to just be resting in Morgan’s arms. Sleeping the day away was not in the agenda, but if it meant Morgan got to spend every moment with Reid and treating him right, spoiling him, and giving him the love he deserves, Morgan couldn’t find a reason to complain. 

As long as he could be by Reid’s side, he was content. 

[shizuokadivision]

Though there were still a few hours left in the day, it was slowly winding down as Reika's birthday had only a few hours left before the entire city of Shizuoka would be filled with the colors of pink, red, white, and other lovey-dovey colors. Sighing, the woman in question, lied down on her sofa in her bathrobe, showing that she had just finished a relaxing, stress-free bath, which did wonders for her psyche. She felt nothing could ruin this moment.

Of course, she was proven wrong as the doorbell to the house rang out, making her frown. She normally would have a servant answer it, but she remembered she gave them all the night off for her birthday since she didn't want to be bothered. Sighing, she paused the show she was watching and reluctantly stood up from her sofa, walking to the door. She didn't care that she was in her robe. If anyone had a problem with it, they could take it up with her pet snake, Kiyohime, who was slithering behind her.

Peeping through the peephole, she looked as it was a delivery man, holding a box. Rolling her eyes, she opened the door and looked as the man smiled a fake smile.

"Package for Miss Aichi," he stated, holding a computer screen to sign, which she did. He then handed a wooden box to her, nodded, and walked off. She was somewhat surprised that he didn't bother doing anything perverted to her. Was the sight of her snake behind her the reason? Or was she, perhaps, losing her touch?

Shaking her head at such ludicrousness, she looked at the box in her hands and opened it as she looked at what was inside. Her eyes grew slightly wide at what was inside.

"A bottle of Romanee-St-Vivant?" Reika questioned, looking at it. It was shocking, to say the least. One bottle of this wine costs up to, at least, $4000, meaning it wasn't cheap. Of course, if she really wanted this, she could easily purchase it, or have her friend, Sakura, smuggle it for her. However, she never had cause to as she had plenty of other important things on her mind.

Looking at the bottle once more, it didn't have anyone's name on it, but a note on it simply read,

'Happy birthday from the Eagle's Nest.'

Reika set down the note and placed the bottle on the counter. While she usually preferred stronger liquor Reika could appreciate a good wine here and there. She couldn't help but wonder where was Rashaad hiding this? God knows how people would steal the bottle for a drink or to sell it. Perhaps she’ll ask Rashaad next time she went to the Eagle’s Nest. Pulling out her phone Reika dialed a number and placed it on speaker mode.

“Reika?”

“Oi Sakura. Go get Kanon and come over. I just got sent some good wine.”

“Kanon is gonna bitch about this.”

“Tell her I have some of those expensive raspberry-filled chocolates she likes. Oh, pack bags too.”

“Bags?” 

“The two of you are spending the night. I have to make sure the two of you are presentable for tomorrow's gala. Kanon more so than you. It’s going to take forever to get rid of the scent of blood and chemicals clinging on to her.”

“Kanon is going to kill you the moment you try putting her in a dress.”

“That’s a problem for future me. So you coming or not?”

“Give me 30.”