#Nightmare this whole time was pretty much trying to get a feel for Crop as a person

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU - Breakfast

Okay! So. I know this isn't the one you guys were probably expecting.

BUT I HAD AN IDEA! :D

and because this whole drabble serie is loosely hanging together with just my pure power of will I am adding it! :D

First Drabble here (with special thanks to @spotaus for the original prompt which sparked this all) Prev drabble here Next Drabble

As always we have no beta and zero editing, just me and my fast typing and dyslectic ass trying her best.

Also... Enjoy Crop's thoughts :D

*----------------*

Crop hangs up the phone as he sighs next to the chicken coop. The chickens are still mostly asleep as the sun hasn't risen but with his new guests Crop figured it was best to get his chores out of the way early.

And collect a few fresh eggs.

He slowly moves through the coop to carefully grab the eggs from his very sweet chickens. They always work with him and he is very lucky with all these ladies.

As he goes over his mental list as he collects the eggs. He made sure to call his brother to both warn him and to ask him to get extra supplies. He is going to call the local doctor after breakfast.

Either way, his brother knows they have quests and the most basic of explanations. He is bringing more food and general things for them to use and will tell people in town today as he does their shopping.

Crop just... needs to make sure they are comfortable.

Crop chuckles as he holds the basket with eggs in one arm as he pulls out his phone and finds the picture he took this morning.

So he may have sneaked a look at his guests before he went to do his work. He just wanted to be sure they were comfortable and not bothered by anything. He remembered how souldeep tired all of them had looked and how tense most of them had been. He just wanted to be sure that they were actually comfortable resting.

What he foudn as one pile of skeletons all locked together and sound asleep. Little Nightmare in the middle being held close and protectively by Killer. Dust pretty much plastered to the two of them on Nightmare's other side. Cross had layed on Killer's side, squeezed right between Killer and the wall. Horror had been laying by Dust's side. All of them completely out as the open window let in the fresh summer air.

Crop had silently snapped a picture before leaving again. Oh! That is what he should do! He quickly texts Papyrus to also buy a picture frame and to print the picture for it. After which Crop send the picture and Papyrus replied with a message that he will get it done.

Crop figures they will want to make the attic a bit more theirs.

Crop knows they won't stay forever. He knew that when Horror first visited and he knew that when he and Dust visited together. It is just... the farm gets lonely and it is nice to have friendly faces around!

He walks down the dirt path back towards his farmhouse. It looks peaceful and Crop prays this really is what they needed. Even if it is just for a little while. He makes sure to try and be quiet as he enters the house again but the door still creeks.

Crop waits for a moment but hears nothing from upstairs and closes the door again. He goes to the kitchen and thinks it over as he prepares coffee for himself. As it brews he looks around the kitchen.

What to make. What to make.

Maybe omelettes? those are usually a good go. Eggs themselves are an amazing source of protein and together with some fresh vegatables...

Crop nods and starts taking out the right ingredients. He takes out a few extra eggs as he has quite a few mouths to feed today and he gets to work on cutting up vegatables. Crop is just considering turning on the radio just to get the silence to be less pressing when he sees a shadow out of the corner of his socket.

He turns and freezes. Because that is a very tiny six year old staring at him. Crop manages to keep in the coo as he takes in the sight of Nightmare in an oversized t-shirt.

Crop smiles "Sorry if i woke you."

Nightmare tilts his skull a tiny bit before answering, his voice is soft spoken but it is clear as a bell, "You didn't wake me." his mouth and teeth pitch a little bit up "I am what Killer calls 'one of those cursed morning people'. Usually I get up with Cross and Horror but both were tired."

Crop nods as he turns back to continue his chopping "I see. Well. YOu will be happy to note I am also a monring person." he finishes chopping up a few onions before moving over to the peppers "I am sitll working on breakfast. Do you have any preferences for your breakfast."

A light hum that sounds a bit closer before he answers "Not really. Is it okay if I sit here?"

Crop wants to just lay his face on his counter because he is so wellmannered it is so cute! Crop remains strong however and shoots him a grin, silently noting that Ngihtmare had somehow moved himself into a chair without making a single sound.

Crop nods "of course. Happy to have you keep me company." he takes a sip of his coffee before turning back to Nightmare with a frown "Do you want anything to drink? I have some orange juice."

Nightmare tilts his skull and nods "orange juice is fine..." he does eye the coffee wishfully.

Crop looks at his own mug before grinning "Are you allowed coffee or will that get your four friends all mad at me?"

Ngihtmare blinks before looking a bit happier "It should be fine. It never harmed me before."

Crop nods and grabs another mug, one with little goats on it, and fills it with some coffee. He turns to Nightmare "How do you take it?"

Ngihtmare smiles a bit more sheepish "Lots of milk and sugar..."

Crop chuckles and nods as he prepares it "Much like my brother than. Says if he doesn't add those things it just tastes like regret." he finishes the mug and puts it by Nightmare's arm. Nightmare watches him for a moment longer before taking it and taking a sip.

Crop grins and goes back to preparing the omelettes and just knowing that someone is nearby makes the silence much more bareable.

"Don't I bother you?"

Crop pauses for a moment before snorting "If you being in the kitchen with me while i cooked bothered me i would have requested you go to the living room. It is fine Ngihtmare."

a small sigh before he speaks again "No. I mean me in general."

Crop blinks and looks over "Why would it?"

Nightmare frowns at him before shrugging as he looks back to his coffee.

The silence returns but Nightmare doesn't ask anymore questions. aparently the ltitle thing that Crop said was enough. Crop hopes that he didn't leave a bad first impression.

Crop starts with cooking the first egg and vegetable mixture.

He watches it before he can't help it anymore "Nightmare... I was wondering something... and it is fine to not answer..."

Nightmare hums and waits.

Crop frowns but speaks "Doesn't it bother you to be here?"

Nightmare is silent for a bit longer before humming questioningly.

Crop keeps looking at the eggs "It is just... you don't know me... or any of this place... doesn't it bother you to be here?"

Nightmare is silent for a while before answering "I don't have to be worried. I am not alone."

Crop stops and turns to Nightmare "Huh?"

Ngihtmare looks at him and continues to speak "They won't let anything happen to me. I don't have to worry." he speaks with such a certainty.

and Crop can't help but be curious "really?" he leans on the table "I don't mean this in anyway negatively or to make you doubt yourself... it is just... they left right? Horror said as much, and immediantly said he regretted it!" it feels important to reinforce that! "and well... he showed me... the book of dreamtale...."

Nightmare doesn't blink at the comment of being left alone but he does look bothered with the dreamtale comment. he looks at the coffee with a frown "oh...."

Crop frowns "It is just... how... how are you still able to trust people after that?" he chuckles and rubs his neck "I know that i would have a hard time being willling to trust others if all those things happened to me..."

Horror frowns as he looks at his mug before shrugging.

Crop nods and chuckles "right... sorry... that is a very personal and loaded questions..." he quickly turns back to the safe area which is preparing breakfast.

The silence continues before Nightmare speaks just barely above a whisper "they came back..." more silence before even softer "no one ever did that... that is how i knew they were different...."

Crop feels his soul just break at that... how terrified this poor babybones would ahve been. had still been.

crop froces his voice to speak. He needs to make sure that the young child knows he was heard and understood "I see. that would make them much more trustworthy."

a soft hum of acknowledgement.

Crop can't help but wonder why Nightmare would tell him. Is it just that... Ngihtmare now as a six year old just doesn't have the same mental view on things? That he doesn't see the same boundries for topics as he saw before? Or... is it because there is someone acutlaly listening to him? Crop doesn't know and he doesn't dare to ask. He doesn't want to question his motives and make him question them.

Crop nods and thinks for a moment before speaking again "So... other subject... do you still have to do the whole god of negativity job still? Because that just seems rude and illegal... Do gods have a rule against child labor?" Crop desperately tries to find another subject and figures this would work.

A light giggle and Crop can't help but stare because nightmare giggling to hismelf is adorable. Ngihtmare shakes his skull lightly "No... I don't think I sitll got that job..." he looks thoughtful "Maybe this is part of being fired? I am not sure..." he then shoots him a look, a small eye brow raised and he looks very sassy and smug "Also, I am not a god of negativity, or well I never was."

Crop blinks and tilts his skull "you weren't?"

Ngihtmare shakes his skull "I was a god of balance. I just decided to also be the guardian of negativity. It fit with the powers i had gained and it was needed."

Crop finishes another omelette as he asks "Why negativity? If you had the choice why not pick positivity?"

Nightmare blinks at him with wide sockets before he speaks "Because positivity doesn't need a guardian but negativity does." he rolls his sockets nad mutters softly "don't get why dream did what he did...."

Crop frowns "What do you mean? Why does negativity need a guardian but positivity not?"

Ngihtmare tilts hsi skull and looks amused "Because everyone wants to be happy. Everyone chases the positive things in life... wlel not everyone but most people." he traces the mug "negativity gets pushed aside for positivity... but negativity is needed... i mean... you can't exactly just be happy about the death of someone you care about. you need negativity, that is how you can grieve and move forwards. Anger is needed when you are hurt or see injustice..." he looks down "people will try to chase positivity. but if you just feel positivity.... well... you can't appreciate the good without being aware of the bad."

Crop blinks and speaks "You can't have light without shadows... you cna't have day without night..."

Ngihtmare looks up and nods "So i decided to guard the negativity, helps a lot with mental health and progressing trauma." and he shrugs before snorting "not that it matters anymore. I am not that anymore."

Crop chuckles "how are you so sure about that?" Ngihtmare shrugs again and crop figures that is a question he won't answer for him.

Crop tilts his skull "Was there a favourite feeling for you? Like as god of emotions and stuff? Something you enjoyed to feel form others?" it sounded weird to ask but Nightmare acutally looks thoughtful.

Nightmare nods to himself "I think amazement... it is just... nice... i like how those work and felt for others."

Crop nods and thinks for a moment "I think my favorite is contentment." is that an emotions? Maybe.

Nightmare tilts hsi skull but ends up nodding "Because it is a bit more humble but still what you need?"

Crop blinks but nods "kinda."

Nightmar elooks smug to have figured it out before turning back to his mug "eggs are burning."

Crop blinks before cursing and turning back to safe the food. He manges to do it and pants as it lays a bit darker than it should be on the plate.

Crop freezes and looks over his shoulder "don't tlel them i cursed in front of you please."

Nightmare hums "I won't. Not that it matters as they do it too sometimes. would make them hypocrits."

Crop laughs as he nods-

A smash from upstairs and a panicked voice calls out for nightmare. Nightmare looks unsurprised as he continues to drink his coffee.

Crop raises his voice slightly "he is in the kitchen! We are making breakfast."

Silence before rushed steps and crop laughs as he turns back to the stoof.

It is amazing to have more people in the house again.

*---------------*

First Drabble here Prev drabble here Next Drabble

hihihihihi i like crop. he is so curious and down to earth :3 He is just a sweet guy! :D

[blackleatherjacketz]

Hook, Line and Sinker

Eric Northman (True Blood) x Female Reader

Summary: After Eric threatens your brother to pay off a large debt, he expresses his interest in a different form of payment.

Warnings: 18+ Only!, Explicit Smut, Dubious Consent, Blackmail, Emotional Manipulation, Death Threats, Swearing, Face-Grabbing, Glamoring, Hair Pulling, Biting, Vampirism, Blood Sucking/Drinking, Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Size Kink

Word Count: 2.9k+

Tags: @jessicafangirl @differentcatcat @spice-honey

Read more Eric!

Your brother had always been caught up in the wrong crowd, conning people and moving from state to state to avoid the repercussions of his actions until they finally caught up with him. You just never thought that you’d be there with him when that finally happened. You never thought that the people, the monsters that he had crossed would ever throw bags over your heads and toss you into the trunk of their car to present you in front of their ‘boss’ he had to answer to. You never thought that he’d be dumb enough to cross a nest of vampires, of all things.

This boss is much different from the image you’d cooked up in your head from beneath the black pillowcase. Although he still appears pale, cold and callous from his perch behind his desk, he isn’t that dark, brooding caricature of a vampire you expected to see. His presence is still heavy, warming your body in a blanket of unease from across the room as cropped blonde locks frame his handsome face, but there’s something else there. There’s something more in that split second that he glances your way, almost as if he was fighting the urge to take a longer look, but that could just be the trauma talking.

He takes his time folding his slender fingers together as he speaks to your brother, not even bothering to look over at him while negotiating his terms. It’s almost as if he’s bored of the inconvenience of his presence, annoyed that he even has to do any of this at all. You can tell this isn’t the first conversation they’ve about this, but figure that it may very well be their last. And just like that, with a wave of his hand, one of your captors grasps onto your brother’s arm and turns him away from you despite his many pleas and protests.

“She stays here until you come back.” He looks at you intentionally this time, eyes burning his promise deep into your soul with words clearly meant for your brother.

“What?! No! She doesn’t have anything to do with this, Eric! I was asking her for money! That’s why I was with her!” David pleads as the woman begins dragging him across the room toward the open door. “I’ll get your money, I promise!”

“We’ll see.” Eric states calmly, almost to himself as the sound of your brother’s begging fades out into the darkened hallway, muddled by his scurried footsteps.

You start to run over to the doorway, trying to see which direction they’re taking him in, to get one last look at your brother before the night swallows him whole, but you can barely move. Like in one of those nightmares you can’t manage to wake yourself from, your feet seem to get heavier with each step you take as you feel yourself being pulled back to the center of the room by your host’s words.

“If I knew David had such a pretty sister, I would have threatened him a lot sooner.” Eric starts as he busies himself by looking over his ledger, his long fingers scaling down the page before looking back up at you intently. He holds your gaze with a long azure stare, so dark and serious that you can’t bear to look away, even if you tried. “Now I see why he was keeping you from me.”

“Keeping me from you?” The phrase sounds just as odd coming out of your own mouth as it did his, your voice providing little balm over the idea.

“Don’t pretend to be so naive, sweetheart. It doesn’t suit you.” Eric stands up, moving around the desk toward you in a blur faster than your brain can even begin to register. He stops just a few feet short of you, forcing you to gasp as your muscles tighten in anticipation of what he could do to you in a matter of seconds. If he wanted to. He’s so much taller than he seemed from behind the desk, his shoulders now towering well above your eye line as he takes another slow, purposeful step in your direction. “You’re not nearly as afraid of me as you should be.”

“I’m afraid,” you reassure him shakily, still stunned in your tracks.

“Are you?” He lifts your chin with the tips of his fingers, that cold stare of his softening just a little as his lips curl into a devious smirk. “Or is it something else?”

You wrack your brain of all the vampire trivia you’ve learned over the years, trying to recall if they could read minds, or if that was just something you saw in a movie once. Is it that blatantly obvious that you’re attracted to him despite the situation your brother’s put you in? Has the gift of fear not properly disguised your complex reaction to his large size and good looks? Or is this just a lucky shot in the dark?

“It’s something else,” you hear yourself admit to him before you even decide to tell him the truth. Why did you just do that?

“I could see it all over your face the very second you walked in here.” He grabs ahold of your chin and squeezes until your lips purse, smiling as if he’s won some kind of prize for calling you out on something completely out of your control. “Humans aren’t nearly as good at hiding their emotions as they think they are.”

He chuckles and lets go of your face, turning his back to you before slowly walking over to his desk as a cascade of hormones trickles into your bloodstream. That sudden absence of his touch makes your body ache for another embrace, craving that hit of oxytocin more quickly than you’d ever anticipated from a mere stranger.

“How much does he owe you, exactly?” You attempt to reconnect, stepping toward him as he turns back around to face you.

Maybe he just wants you to ask for it… to beg for what you want in exchange for your brother’s life, but that’s not something you’ve ever done before, not something you’d ever lower yourself to do. The least you could do is try your best to negotiate your way out of this logically.

“A lot,” he answers flatly.

“How much?” You try to stand your ground, looking up at him resolutely as his beautiful features start to heat you up from the inside out.

“Fifty thousand dollars.”

“Jesus, fuck.” You utter, unaware that your brother’s habits had gotten him this upside down with the most lethal of all creatures known to man. There’s no way he’s getting out of this without your help.

“Jesus Fuck is right.” The vampire grins as he makes another move in the unspoken game that you’re playing together, reaching out to touch a lock of your hair and smelling it before laying it back down onto your shoulder. “You seem like the smart one in the family, I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that your brother hasn’t been able to pay his debt to us for some time.” He licks his lips as he looks you over, his gaze moving back and forth from your mouth down to your neck in rapid succession. “And that he’s pushed things just far enough that we’ve had no other choice but to take extreme measures.”

“Are you going to kill him?” Your heart sinks in your chest before dropping down into your stomach, straining the muscles in your torso at the thought of him paying the ultimate price for his stupidity. Sure, the two of you had fallen out of touch over the years because of his habits, but that didn’t mean that you wanted him killed over them. You just wanted this all to be over and done with. Then it hits you; you’re reminded of what your brother was doing business with… not who. “Are you going to kill… me?”

“I’m hoping it doesn’t have to come to that.” The blue in his eyes begins to shrink as his pupils dilate, escaping to the far recesses of his irises as he closes the gap between you. “It’d be such a waste.”

“But I don’t have that kind of money,” you think out loud, still trying to logic your way out of this.

“Oh, I know.” He smirks, the seductive confidence now oozing out of his pores. “That doesn’t necessarily mean that you can’t help him.” He traces his finger over the artery in your neck as it pumps a more potent cocktail of fear and arousal into your bloodstream, forcing your lips to tremble. “Fortunately for me, you were in the right place at the right time when my men picked him up.”

“Fortunately?” You repeat, realizing now that it’s too late for mundane negotiations, that it’s far too late to fight your body’s natural urges.

“You’d do anything for your brother, wouldn’t you?” Eric’s fangs suddenly emerge as he touches more of your bare skin, revealing his true nature as his chest begins to heave.

Oh God. “I’ve never been bitten before,” you whisper without pulling away from his grasp.

“Never?” He leans down and whispers into your ear, the deep musk of his cologne surrounding you in a heady haze as his thumb presses against your racing pulse. He carefully wraps the rest of his cold fingers around your neck, holding you in place as he inhales your scent. “You haven’t even thought about it? About how good it might feel?”

His words turn your insides to quicksand, his breath hot on your skin as you dare to think about his fangs sinking into your flesh. You honestly hadn’t wondered about how it would feel until just now, your mind jumping ahead to the image of him latching onto your throat and tasting your blood before you’re able to give him an honest yet quiet answer. “No.”

“Not even now?” He slides his other hand between your thighs, triggering your most human response as that moisture begins to collect beneath the fabric of your jeans, soaking through the cotton of your underwear as your body takes over. “It only hurts at first.”

“My brother will find a way to get your money.” Your last ditch effort at peace is futile at best, knowing full well that it’s only a matter of seconds before your carnal desires win over.

“Will he?” Eric releases his grip on your neck only to grasp onto your hair, tugging on your scalp just hard enough to expose your throat. “I think we both know how hopeless your brother’s case really is.” He pulls tighter, jutting your chin up toward the ceiling as he turns you around and walks you back toward his desk like a rag doll. “Maybe I should just keep you here to start paying off that debt of his. I’m sure you could be of use.”

“Keep me here?” Your view of the ceiling tiles shifts in and out of focus as he slides his hand beneath the hem of your pants, lifting you up onto his desk while sliding his fingers between your soaking wet folds. Goddamn, that feels good, oh god… he’s really good at that. But wait a minute… Keep you here? How long was that going to last? How long are YOU going to last? “I don’t want to die.”

“Who said anything about dying?” He grins as he settles in between your legs, pushing his fingers inside your eager entrance as a salacious shade of hunger washes over his face.

His bite somehow takes you by surprise, the sudden piercing pain worse than you imagined as it breaks your skin, shooting daggers up through your spine. That sharp sting only lasts for a second though, his tongue massaging your skin as it works to lap up the hot flow of blood that leaks out of the corners of his mouth, racing down your neck and onto your clavicle. His needy moans vibrate against your throat as his fingers delve deeper inside you, his thumb rubbing delicious circles into your moistened clit, flooding your senses with a deadly concoction of agony and ecstasy.

So this is what all the fuss is about.

You start to moan along with him as he stimulates your most sensitive area, only no sound bothers to escape your lips. Your breath is stifled by the intoxicating mixture of cortisol and oxytocin flowing through your veins and into his mouth, halting any complex brain functions you might otherwise have at this moment. Your fingers find their way into his hair, tightening onto his golden locks in order to hold him against you in this morbidly sensual embrace.

He pulls more of you into his mouth as your strength begins to dwindle, greedily licking the length of your neck before nipping at your chin and jawline in between hungry attempts to clean up the scarlet mess he’s made of your skin. Those tiny little nips quickly turn into affectionate kisses on his way up your face until he reaches your lips, parting them with his blood-soaked tongue.

“Eric,” you’re finally able to moan, whining as his fingers slide out of your sex just in time to unfasten your jeans, leaving a trail of slick up your pelvis as he pulls them off your legs.

“You taste like a dream,” he smirks, your blood smattered across his face like a wild animal, the excess dripping down his neck and onto his chest, stirring something more primal in you than you’ve ever felt before. He can see it in your eyes as he runs his tongue across his teeth, holding his thumb against your bite in order to slow down your bleeding for the time being. “You like it, don’t you?”

You nod in silence.

“I knew you would.” He leans in close and kisses you again, letting you taste the iron of your blood until enough of it fills your mouth that you have no other choice but to swallow. It goes down easier than you anticipated, still hot and fluid down the back of your throat as Eric bites into his own lip, mixing the saltier flavor of his blood with yours. He smirks as you lean forward to kiss him back, no longer afraid as you take his bottom lip between your teeth and suck the spit and blood right off of it.

He has you now; hook, line and sinker.

Your desire for him increases exponentially as if your very life force depends on the continuation of his kiss, on the certainty of his touch. You feel that your very soul is connected to his now, tethered more deeply than you ever have been with anyone else. Your groans become louder as he lazily licks the blood off your tongue and teeth; his hunger for you only growing along with yours as you both continue to consume each other.

Making quick work of undoing his own pants, he shoves them down past his knees to reveal the evidence of his own arousal, grasping onto your thigh to make room for his hips.

Jesus Christ, he’s even bigger than you thought he’d be. Fuck. This is really happening, isn’t it?

“And to think that I was your first,” he snickers, stroking himself with his opposite hand as he spreads the remainder of your blood left on his palm over his enormous girth. He lines himself up with your dripping wet cunt, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your length as waves of red hot bliss shoot up into your core before he pushes inside.

You cry out as your body takes him in, inch by undead inch as that rare connection between you only tightens like a rubber band pulling you two together as he bottoms out against your thighs. He only gives you a second to adjust to his size, pulling out just a little before slamming his hips back into you without mercy, sheathing himself within your walls before relentlessly repeating the motion again and again. That tingly red heat from before turns scarlet as it burns its way through you, igniting every neuron in your body as he quickens his pace, grunting as he hits that bundle of nerves inside you the way only a man who’s been alive for centuries would know how.

It’s as if he’s unlocked something within you that so many men before had tried and failed to open, expanding your pleasure throughout every tissue in your body from your capillaries right down to your fingertips. Bright, blinding lights flash before your eyes as your toes curl and your back arches, distracting you from his mouth latching onto you once again. You can feel his thrusts becoming more frantic, each pass over your slick special spot triggering another explosion of ecstasy as your muscles clench down around him, draining him of his more prized fluid as you both shake together in unison. His moans turn into groans as he drinks more of your blood, shifting into feral growls against your mangled skin as your heart rate eventually comes down from your climax.

“Fuck!” He pulls his fangs from you as he licks and kisses his way back up to your lips, a thin coat of your blood now covering you in a ruby red sheen as his come drips down your thighs and onto the floor. “I knew I could use you.” He winks before pulling out and kissing your forehead. “Only forty-nine thousand dollars to go.”

[moongothic]

Made a crochet lace-top! Wheee

Okay so for a little while now I had been thinking about what a cute outfit it'd be to have like a nice button-up/t-shirt with a mesh top underneath it, so you could see the mesh on the arms and the neck etc etc. And yeah, I could buy a mesh top from some alternative fashion brand (Restyle comes to mind), however most if not all of those are made of plastic and are like, full upperbody suits. Also they would be expensive. And no matter how I thought about it I could not come up with an excuse or a justification to buy a piece of clothing that expensive that 70% nobody will ever see because it'd be underneath other clothes, when all I really need is like a crop top (also it'd be just a little bit too expensive for me to feel good about DIY'ing it and cutting it into a crop top). And the plastic too, my Eternal Hangup.

So, I did what you always do. I decided to just make it myself.

Yup, it's a crop top. Not much to note there, I just looked up some lace crochet stitches until I found one I liked to make the top in and just bullshitted one together. I did struggle figuring out how to make the collar part because I did want the neck to be fitted, but also my head had to like, fit through the hole so I could actually wear it. So what I ended up having to do was leaving a slit in the back that I have to lace up and tie together with some ribbon. Not a big deal by any means, but yeah the way I did it looks a bit messy and rough (but it's in the back so it's fiiiiiiine) Also I made armpit holes lmao. No need to get the alpaca yarn sweaty and stinky

So the yarn I used is Katia's Alpaca Lace, which is 70% viscose and 30% alpaca (color 89 (black)). I hadn't actually gone and bought this yarn for this project in particular. When I was preparing to start the bleeding heart sweater I realized I didn't have the right size knitting needles for it, which meant doing some shopping. And while I was at it I just needed a little bit more shit in my shopping cart to get the free shipping (you know how it is), and when browsing for something to add I came across this yarn and absolutely fell in love with it, so I ended up grabbing some. The yarn is absolutely stunning, it is so soft, the viscose tube is like this beautiful white/silverly color with black alpaca fibers blown into it, it is GORGEOUS and so shiny. But also.

The structure of the yarn also made it an absolute NIGHTMARE to work with. You know how people warn others about working with mohair because the loosey-goosey fibers will stick to each other and make unravelling/frogging a project a gigantic pain in the ass to do? Yeah, I haven't worked with mohair, but based on the experience I had with this I'm pretty sure I never want to try mohair now lmao

Now to be fair, the main issue was that I was bullshitting this crop top together all willy nilly. Which meant that I had to undo and redo almost every section of it anywhere at least once, if not multiple times, because that's how I was figuring out how to make the top fit the way I wanted it to. Hell, on my first attempt I started by crocheting a whole sleeve and the neck piece, only to decide I wasn't happy with how I was making it, so I restarted completely (this time doing the torso of the top first, bottom-to-top). And I am not joking when I tell you that frogging the first sleeve and neck piece took me literal days to do. I had to use a freaking seam ripper to get the job done, it was that hard (like it was the only way to help the alpaca fibers get untangled, though I still had to be extremely careful so I didn't damage or rip the viscose tube) So had I known what I was doing from the begining, I would've had a much, MUCH easier time with this project. The yarn itself is wonderful to crochet with, frogging it was horrible.

And so I do want to give out a warning to anybody reading this; if you wanna bullshit a lace crop top together, go for it, just use a yarn that's easy to unravel. You ARE going to make mistakes and using smoother yarn will make your life easier and the project go by much, MUCH faster

But, I'm glad I stuck to it and didn't give up, because I am absolutely over the moon with how this top turned out. It's so comfy, shockingly warm actually, and it looks so cute. I'm so delighted with it

My only regret is that because the yarn has this gun-metal sheen to it, I don't think I'd wear with anything BUT all-black clothes. I had been hoping to wear it with a button-up shirt, but I can't 'cause the shade and color absolutely does not match the one and only button-up in my closet right now (the Mollymauk/CritRole one, which is a statement piece on its own. As you can see they absolutely clash and do not go together at all lmao)

So I do wanna make another one, next time in a plain black yarn so I can wear it with other colors maybe perhaps (/I just need a plain black button-up) (A white one could be really cool too....... And a red...)

Not much else to add here. The construction of the top was simple once I figured it out. I just made a band that goes around my torso, made it long enough to cover most of my chest, then separately crochet'd the front and the back of the top that I then attached at the top. Then I crochet'd the neck piece directly onto it (instead of making it separately), followed by the shoulder pieces that turn into proper sleeves after getting far away enough from the armpits. The lace pattern itself can't be adjusted much/at all, so to keep the top fitted (especially in the sleeves) I occasionally had to do these little decorative rows where I would cut down the stitch count, before going back to the lace stitch with fever repeats. Like I said, took some mathing and figuring out to get the fit right, but it worked out in the end!

[mellowswriting]

Nightmare

pairing || Bucky Barnes x Reader

summary || Bucky struggles to calm down after a particularly rough nightmare - it’s a good thing you’re there to lend him a hand.

word count || 1,799

warnings || hurt and comfort, love confessions

a/n || So I started writing this before the first episode of The Falcon and The Winter Soldier even came out (because I’m incorrigible) so if it’s a little off, that’s why. As someone who’s gone through all that fun trauma-based therapy, seeing Bucky working on himself is validating as fuck. I tried to emphasize that while a good relationship can help after trauma, it doesn’t complete the healing process or suddenly make a person whole. Anyway, enjoy!

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“Bucky?” Your voice cracked, still thick with sleep. “Why are you on the floor?”

“I…” Bucky started but his words failed him. He couldn’t find a way to tell you about it without feeling like he was gutting himself, without bringing the images right back up to torment him all over again. The vulnerability left him trembling, dog tags clinking quietly against his bare chest with every heaving breath.

But he didn’t need to say it. You just nodded and sat down next to him on the blanket he had spread out on the hard floor. Remnants still prickled at the back of his neck, images and echoes of gunfire and that wide open emptiness that cracked his chest on every mission, but he got some small peace from your presence. He felt just a bit safer at the feeling of your knee pressed to his lightly. You didn’t probe him about it, didn’t try to weasel out details, and he was thankful. Instead you offered him your hand and in turn, offered your quiet support, and he gratefully slid his fingers up your palm to curl with your own.

The pressure of your fingers holding him was grounding, kept him in the reality of what was actually happening around him. He wasn’t in that building. He didn’t have a gun in his hand. He wasn’t trapped behind a wall in his own mind. He was at home, sitting cross-legged on his living room floor. He held your hand in his, the softness of your skin against his a sharp contrast to the imagined bite of gunmetal.

He was right there. So were you.

Your thumb slid up and down over his as you tentatively started speaking. “I used to click my tongue to keep myself grounded after nightmares.”

Bucky glanced at you, eyebrows raised. “Really?”

“Yeah, I know it seems silly, but it worked for me more often than not.” You said with a small chuckle. “Sometimes I would have to tap if the clicking thing wasn’t working. It drove Tony crazy. He always said he could hear it all throughout the compound, but I think he was bullshitting. And if the tapping didn’t work, I would do sprints until my legs couldn’t hold me up anymore.”

Bucky took a long, deep breath the way his therapist taught him during their first session. Your voice was so calming. “Keep talking?”

“Of course.” You murmured. “It’s cheesy as hell, but they do get easier to deal with. The nightmares, I mean. The more you work at it, the less… vivid they are. I still get pretty bad ones every now and then, but even those are a little easier to come down from.”

“I hope you’re right.” He said.

“Well, you’re in therapy - even if it’s mandatory, you’re still showing up. Still putting in the effort. You’re sleeping semi-regularly, eating somewhat healthy. Trust me, you’re doing better than you realize. It takes a minute for you to ease out of survival mode, so it can be hard to tell how far you’ve already come.” You squeezed his hand lightly. “I’m proud of you, Bucky.”

A breath caught in his chest as he turned to look at you where you leaned your head back against the wall. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Well, you did save me from getting shot that one time.” You teased and Bucky laughed quietly, a genuine one that seemed to surprise you. “But seriously. You’re a good person, that’s all you have to do.”

“No, I’m not.” The laugh turned self-deprecating. “I don’t have to tell you that, either. I know you’ve read the files.”

“That wasn’t you. That was Hydra.” Your free hand pressed against his bare chest, right over his heart. “This is you. You aren’t what they put in your head. You’re the person who went out and bought me a new coffeemaker in the middle of the night when mine broke so I wouldn’t have to go without caffeine the next morning. You’re the person who's mowed Mrs. Franklin’s yard twice a month since her husband passed. You’re the person who is working their ass off to get better.”

There weren’t words. He didn’t have them, the ones that could tell you how much he appreciated you, how much you meant to him. So he covered the hand you placed on his chest with his own, wishing he could actually feel you, but the prosthetic had its limitations with the enhancements given by the vibranium. You nodded at him, a quiet acknowledgement of his thanks.

Silence fell over you both. It was a comfortable one, not the heavy, oppressive silence that curled around him in the moments after waking. Your hand fell away from his chest, much to his disappointment. The skin against skin was comforting. A moment later you shifted onto your knees, ready to stand and seemingly leave him there, and Bucky tightened his grip on your hand instinctually.

“Please… don’t go.” His voice was small.

“I’m just going to get you some water. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

And you did. You returned less than a minute later and handed him a glass of cool water, watching him take a few sips until you were satisfied, and then stole a sip for yourself. Bucky couldn’t help the small smile that found him at the sight as you settled back in next to him and offered him your hand once more. He took it, but didn’t interlock your fingers like before. Instead he lifted your hand to his face and pressed your palm against his cheek, eyes falling closed at your cool skin against his warmth. Your thumb rubbed small circles along his cheekbone and when he opened his eyes again, you were looking at him almost thoughtfully. Impulsively, Bucky tilted his head slightly and kissed the delicate skin of your wrist and he could hear your breath stutter in your chest.

“Bucky…” You whispered, worry suddenly played across your features.

“I talk about you in therapy, you know.” He whispered, his heart jumping in his chest at the prospect of telling you about it, admitting his vulnerability. “I told her about how you make me feel… seen. And safe. I told her about how I always think about you. About… kissing you. And making you laugh.”

You swallowed, the sound louder in the resounding silence of three a.m confessions. “And what did she say?”

“That she could tell I was in love with you before I would even admit it to myself.” He whispered the words as if breathing them to life would make the very earth crumble at his feet.

“I couldn't live with myself if I got in the way of your healing.” You said and his heart soared in his chest. You weren't rejecting him, weren't pulling away in disgust or fear. No, you were putting his needs first - or rather, what you perceived his needs to be.

“Part of my healing is supposed to be building relationships, you know.” There was a small smile on his face at the very thought of it - of falling asleep and waking next to you each morning, of finally getting to kiss and touch you like he craved for so long.

“So… we take it slow?” You said and Bucky watched your eyes flick down to his lips before meeting his gaze again, your body leaning closer as if drawn in by the very gravity that held you to the earth.

“Yeah, we take…” Bucky leaned in, meeting you halfway, your lips a hairsbreadth apart. “...it…” You brushed your nose against his gently and he sighed contentedly, eyes finally falling closed. “...slow…”

The first press of your lips to his was soft. It was something he hadn’t felt in a long time, the simple pleasure of a kiss, and the fact that it was you only made it all the better. He relaxed against you, pulling you closer by a hand on your waist and angling himself to deepen the kiss. Your gasp against his lips was addictive, something he could happily spend the rest of his life seeking out.

A shudder ran down Bucky’s spine at the feeling of your hand sliding up from his cheek to tangle in his hair, the short cropped style barely enough for you to grab onto. Fuck, you felt so good, he could lose himself in you without regret, could drown in the bliss that washed over him and -

He pulled away gently, offering one last peck against your lips as a parting gift, and pressed his forehead to yours to catch his breath, to calm himself down. He had to go slow and going slow decidedly was not dragging you onto his living room floor and finally letting his hands roam underneath your soft pajamas. You chuckled quietly and that was what got him to lean back and look at you again, dumbstruck by the dazed, happy look on your face.

“You’re good at that,” You whispered, earning you a bashful laugh.

“So are you.” Bucky sighed, the heavy weight of sleepiness gathering at his shoulders. “I need to try to go back to sleep… join me?”

“I think this floor would kill my back, sweetheart.” You teased and holy shit, his heart soared in his chest.

Sweetheart. He was your sweetheart.

“I was thinking we could share my bed, but if you’re gonna tease me -”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Barnes.” You surprised him with another kiss before climbing to your feet, your hand reaching out to pull him up with you.

He couldn’t help but feel amazed at the sight of you climbing into his bed, settling right into his rumpled sheets and looking up at him expectantly. He wasn’t going to leave you waiting, not when he finally got you right where he wanted you. You yawned as you brought him closer to lay his head against your chest and he melted right into you. Bucky curled his arm around your middle, effectively bringing your bodies completely flush against each other.

“You’re so warm, Buck.” You mumbled, sleepiness already warping your voice.

Bucky just hummed, his own exhaustion finally seeping back into his body now that the remnants of paranoid tension eased away at the steady sound of your heartbeat reverberating against his ear. Your hand rested against the top of his head to tease at his hair once more, and it was that gentle affection that had his eyes falling closed. At peace for the moment, his mind let him fall back into sleep, knowing that when the nightmares inevitably found him once more, he would have you there to help guide him back to where he belonged.

Right in your arms.

[magnoliabloomfield]

Possession

Chapter 1: The Princess Arrives

Structure. Maybe it was because he was a builder that he liked that word so much. He built structures, he knew how make four walls and a roof that wouldn’t come down on anyone’s head, he knew how to build a seat that wouldn’t give out under anyone’s weight, and he knew how to maintain it all and make it last. The small world he lived in demanded order and structure for everyone’s well being. Without it they would be sleeping on the ground, starving, and losing their minds. And if one cog in that machine didn’t turn as it should it affected every other part. Yes, the Glade had to be a well oiled machine functioning everyday as it should.

Thankfully there were no outside forces that tried to thwart that. The doors opened in the morning, they closed at night, and the box came every month. You could tell time by the Glade and its unchanging rhythm. After three years Gally knew it like his own heartbeat. He knew the answer to every problem that could crop up in his bit of the machine. He was good enough to be the Keeper of the builders at least. Maybe that’s why it hit him hardest of all.

Box day came like all the others before it, predictable and precise. But then the heart of the Glade skipped a beat and Gally’s own did too for the first time. Because in that box was something they would never recover from.

A girl.

That was the worst thing that ever could have come up in the box. The boys would lose their minds, they’d become distracted and competitive and the machine of the Glade would come to a rusty, grinding halt. Gally could see the writing on the walls: this was going to be bad.

She wasn’t awake, she was laying there almost peacefully and all the gladers remained eerily and unexpectedly silent, like they were waiting for someone to jump out and say it was all a joke and take her away, or if they stared at her long enough the mirage would fizzle out and it actually would be a boy like it was supposed to be. Alby and Newt carefully lowered themselves into the box so they wouldn’t startle her and Newt hesitantly checked for a pulse, letting out a breath as he nodded to say she was alive. Gally ran a hand over his mouth, feeling anxious but not wanting to look it.

She woke up slowly from a sleep she didn’t know she’d fallen into. Her eyes stared straight up at the sky before they started to focus on things like Newt and Alby and a whole crowd of boys looming above her. Gally waited for the scream, for the crying, shuck, even boys had screamed and cried when they came up. But she didn’t. She tried to sit up and winced, placing her palm over her eye and rubbing like her head hurt.

“You’re okay,” Newt said to her from where he knelt beside her.

“Do you remem-“ Alby started to ask her but was silenced by her holding up one finger.

“Just… give me a minute,” she requested as she pressed both palms to her forehead and brought her knees up toward her chest.

“Sure, no rush,” Newt assured her softly, earning a small glare from Alby who was more impatient and less coddling than him.

“Enough gawking, if you’re not a keeper get back to work,” Alby ordered the boys standing around whispering to each other and stifling giggles behind their fists.

Gally narrowed his eyes and shook his head at them. Weak willed hormonal morons. They were all shucking doomed. Slowly the boys began to shuffle off, the ones catching Gally’s glare wiping the smirks from their faces and moving even faster. He sighed to himself knowing their work was going to suck if it got done at all.

Gally stood around with the other keepers, his arms crossed as they all waited for whatever would happen next. The girls hands came away from her face and she held one out in front of her, seeing the tremors running through it and making it shake before she clutched her knees and took a deep breath.

“Okay… now, what?” she sighed, looking up at Newt and Alby, her eyes squinting in the sun.

She was cute, of course she was cute, she couldn’t ruin their lives if she wasn’t cute, Gally thought to himself as he looked away from her.

“Do you remember anything?” Newt asked her nicely.

She zoned out on the middle ground ahead of her and let a breath out through her lips. “Water is wet, the sky is blue, that kind of stuff. I can’t even remember my name,” She said, her shaking hands pushing her hair back from her face as that realization set in.

“It’s ok, it’s alright,” Newt did a good job of keeping her calm. “That happens to everyone who comes here. Sad to say that’s normal. Most of us eventually remember our names at some point though, so don’t worry too much.”

“So if I were to ask you where we are and why we’re here you wouldn’t even know?” she asked as she turned to him, causing him to rock back on his heels a little bit.

“Unfortunately that is correct,” Alby spoke up, earning her attention. “But we will tell you everything we do know, starting with the fact that… you’re the very first girl to come here in three years. So we kind of have a lot to talk about.”

She squinted up at him for a beat before asking “Am I dreaming?”

“I bet you would think being the only girl in a crowd of boys would be a dream,” one of the other keepers said, drawing those eyes of hers to him.

“Nightmares are dreams too,” she pointed out.

Gally felt the corner of his mouth twitch like he might have chuckled at that.

She got out of the box on her own, climbing onto a drum of drinking water and then the rest of the way. Alby and Newt took a hand to get out and Gally figured the girl wasn’t keen on being touched just yet if ever. They let her have her way. They set off for the gathering room, the girl carefully encircled by the keepers to either keep her from running off or keep anyone from running up to her. Alby yelled for someone to go unload the rest of the box and the girl flinched.

She wasn’t as short as Gally expected a girl would be, but of course she was a lot shorter than him. At least not all the boys were that much taller than her which might tip things in her favor slightly if anything were to happen. Gally would have to pay attention to how intimidating he was now. It was never an issue with the boys, it was quite essential in fact. If they weren’t a little scared of someone then nothing would get done. But just looking at her he could tell that he absolutely could overpower her without breaking a sweat, and she would most definitely put that together too, so he had to make sure he never gave her a reason to think he actually would.

They started the gathering with the basic Greenie intro to the Glade. This was usually handled by one person who took the greenie on a tour around the Glade, but this was not the usual greenie. Gally was actually glad she was out of sight of the boys who were supposed to be working.

He rested his elbows on his knees to keep his leg from jumping nervously as Alby and Newt explained the basics and each keeper explained what they did. Gally kept his eyes down, unintentionally staring through the spot where her feet were. As the builder he was running through all the work he would have to do, he’d have to build a safe place for her to sleep and wash up, how exactly was he going to do that, he’d never had to do that before. When Alby called his name he was almost startled. He looked around and found everyone looking back at him, including the girl. It must be his turn.

“I’m in charge of the builders. Pretty self explanatory,” he stated, holding her gaze for as long as he could manage. It wasn’t long.

“You’ve been surprisingly quiet, Gally,” Newt pointed out, looking at him curiously.

Gally didn’t like the attention. “Well, I am the one who has to do the most about this situation,” he pointed out. “Yes, she needs her introduction to this place, but while you’re telling it to her I’m sitting here thinking of how I’m going to build a safe place for her to sleep and to wash up. I’m thinking up the plans now so I can get to work first light and just maybe she’ll have a place to sleep by sundown tomorrow. So what are we going to do for her tonight?”

Alby pinched the bridge of his nose as his face scrunched up, realizing that they had lot of work ahead of them. When Gally had finished his rant he thought the girl was sitting a little smaller in her seat.

“The gardening shed,” Newt blurted. “Remember the time the rakes fell over? We couldn’t get in, you had to take the door off. There’s no windows either. It’s not the best accommodations but on short notice at least it’s a place where no one can get in.”

Gally had started nodding, remembering exactly what Newt was talking about and it was a good idea, at least for one night. “We’ll move out some of the tools and put a cot in,” Gally thought aloud.

“She can take mine,” Minho volunteered.

“Are you sure? Aren’t you running tomorrow?” Newt pointed out.

“Yeah,” Minho shrugged. “Maybe one of the other runners will let me use his cot, but I can’t volunteer anyone else’s but my own. Besides, it’ll be one night, two tops with Gally working on it.”

Gally was surprised to hear him say something vaguely nice about him. But most of all he was planning, drawing blueprints in his mind of the safest, most anti-boy structure he could possibly make. He was going to put the Princess in the tower.

@poulterholland @anniemylennox @crazysheeplyca @thesuitkovian @Poulterjonas @gladerscake @carp3d1em @neilox

If any of you don't actually want to be tagged in the future just let me know, I was just trying to remember the ones who were really interested in the last short Gally series I wrote.

Possession Masterlist

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Eighteen

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: a short update while i try to find my writing rhythm again :))

***

Nesta hasn’t danced in over ten years—yet her body still remembers how to move fluidly and create shapes as if she never stopped. Pole dancing is different, of course: most of it takes place in the air, and she doesn’t have the right muscles developed to support her weight that well. Damn, she should really ask Cassian for help if she wants to keep doing this.

Still, Emerie and Gwyn are gaping by the time Nesta lands on the floor after trying out a basic spin.

She cracks her neck. “What?” she says at their stares.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Emerie demands.

She shrugs indifferently. “Eight years of ballet. Push-up challenges with Cassian.”

The instructor, an overly energetic Australian woman, comes up just then and claps Nesta on the shoulder, making her jump. “That was beautiful,” she praises. “Really, you have the balance of a cat. What’s your name again?”

Nesta introduces herself obediently, and Gwyn and Emerie follow.

The instructor nods. “In that case, Nesta, you keep doing what you’re doing. Don’t worry about your upper body strength yet, it’ll come around with time. You, the redhead,” she addresses Gwyn.

Gwyn straightens.

“I’ve never seen someone with your height and grace at the same time,” the instructor says. Gwyn beams with pride. “Unfortunately,” she continues, “I’ve also never seen someone so prone to hurting themselves on the pole.” Gwyn hangs her head.

“And the pretty girl.” She turns to Emerie last, who looks like she already knows what she’s about to hear. “Well, we can’t all be naturals.” The instructor grins broadly. “Feel free to keep using the poles after class is over.” She nods to their group and moves on to some other students.

Emerie sticks her tongue out and groans. “My tights keep giving me wedgies on the pole.”

“This was your idea,” Nesta reminds her as she reaches for her water bottle.

“Yet you’re the only one reaping the benefits,” Gwyn grumbles. “You never told us you had the body of a dancer and the balance of a gazelle.”

“Cat,” Emerie corrects.

“Guys,” Nesta says firmly. “This class is important for all of us. We won’t look this good,” she gestures to all their bodies, “forever. Gwyn is already pushing thirty.”

Gwyn’s jaw drops. “I’m turning twenty-seven, not getting menopause.”

“Same thing,” Emerie mutters. Gwyn shoves her hard and goes to pack her gym bag, leaving Emerie dramatically rubbing her shoulder. Nesta follows after Gwyn while the rest of the class begins gathering their things, too.

“How’re you feeling?” she mutters lowly as Gwyn packs. They haven’t brought up the conversation in Gwyn’s car since it took place, but Gwyn seems returned to her usual self now, if not even sunnier.

Gwyn’s lips twitch up as she glances sidelong at Nesta. “Perfect,” she says smoothly. “I can’t even remember what I was so upset about.”

Nesta is glad, even though she knows the nightmare isn’t gone. Knows that anytime from the next hour to the next year, it could reappear in full force and drag Gwyn down again. But hopefully it won’t hit as hard as it did before, now that Gwyn has her.

After class, they all pile up in Emerie’s car, a handed-down hunk of metal which Emerie insists on calling “vintage”. Gwyn sticks her head between the driver and passenger seat from the back and wrinkles her nose. “Get me home quick, it smells like a dead banana back here.”

“Oh, is that where I left it?” Emerie starts to turn around, but Nesta stops her with a hand on her shoulder. “I need a shower and a nap,” she pleads. “Let’s go.”

Emerie begrudgingly assents, sticking the key in the ignition and turning it. Nothing happens.

Frowning, she turns it again, but the engine doesn’t so much as choke. She slaps the dashboard like it’ll bring her car to life.

“Amazing,” Nesta mutters.

***

Cassian has imagined more times than he’d like to admit what it would be like when Nesta finally introduced him to her friends, but he never imagined this.

Three tired and hungry girls sit in his truck, alternating between arguing and laughing with each other. He can’t keep up with all of their personalities at once, so he just hones in on Nesta while he drives. Nesta, who Cassian has never seen so carefree or witty with people other than himself before. It both fascinates him and freaks him out, the realization that there’s so much to Nesta he doesn’t know yet. It gives him all the more excuse to spend the next several years getting to know her.

“Don’t tell me what to do with my car,” the dark-haired girl, Emerie, is snapping from the backseat. “Mr. Madani,” she abruptly says, sticking her head forward to look him in the face. Cassian nearly jumps. “Do you know how to change a car battery?”

Nesta shoves Emerie’s face back through the gap between seats from where she sits in the front. “You don’t need a battery change, you need a lifestyle change,” she says. “And don’t call my boyfriend by his last name, he’s not a middle-aged dad.”

Cassian bites back a laugh at that.

“Oh, but if I’m twenty-seven, I’m on the brink of menopause,” Gwyneth speaks up.

“Really?” Cassian says, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror for the first time all drive. “You’re the same age as me?”

He remembers what Nesta told him about Gwyn’s discomfort around men, so he tries to keep his tone casual, distant. If he scares Nesta’s friend away, he’ll never forgive himself.

Gwyn looks stunned to be directly addressed by him, seeming to lose all her sass. “Uh...my birthday’s in a few days,” she says, suddenly awkward.

“That’s right,” Emerie interjects eagerly. “We’re having a rager.”

“We’re having a sleepover,” Nesta corrects. She throws Cassian an exasperated look. “Drive faster, will you? I can’t share a car with these girls any longer.”

“Don’t be fucking rude.” Gwyn flicks a hair tie at Nesta, making her cry out.

Cassian does not understand this dynamic at all, so he shuts up and does as he’s told.

After Gwyn and Emerie have been safely dropped off, Cassian throws his keys into the bowl at the cabin entrance and tosses off his shoes. “I think I finally know what it’s like to be you,” he tells Nesta as they meet the warmth of the house.

“What do you mean?” She unzips her windbreaker, revealing the form-fitting athleticwear beneath. God, he hasn’t even gotten a chance to look at her since he picked her up.

He redirects his eyes to her face. “You know,” he says. “On the outside looking in. I feel drained.”

Her lips quirk up as she hangs up her jacket. “That scared of a couple of girls, huh?”

“They’re your friends. I don’t know what else I expected.” He follows Nesta deeper into the living room, kicking at the ground. “So…” he trails casually. “How was class?”

Nesta responds by rolling her eyes. “I was wondering how long you’d take to crack.”

“What do you mean?” he says, indignant.

“I mean…” She steps up to him and takes his hands, dragging them up her waist to settle on the bare skin beneath her black crop top. “You haven’t said a word about pole-dancing since I told you I was starting it. One would almost think it didn’t affect you at all, and yet,” she tilts her head, “I get the feeling you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Especially at night, when you’re alone.”

Cassian’s breath goes thin. She knows him too well.

“Cunning witch,” he breathes. Nesta’s smile is slow and winning, which he takes as invitation to slip his hands around her back and pull her in. Her chest is pressed flush against his.

She stares at his mouth, the place she always stares when her mind is five steps ahead of reality. Like she’s already imagining how he’ll take her. “Dreaming about a private performance, are you?”

“Hopefully not right now,” a low voice says from above them.

Nesta jumps, spinning around in Cassian’s arms, but Cassian just closes his eyes and sighs. He opens them to find Azriel sitting in the reading nook that overlooks the living room, various work reports scattered about him.

“Have you been there this whole time?” Nesta demands.

“Unfortunately,” Azriel says at the same time Cassian grumbles, “Of course he has.” Remaining unnoticed is all his brother is good for.

Nesta sighs and rubs her eyes, the mood effectively killed. “I need a break.”

Cassian considers going up to Az and pushing him over the second floor railing as Nesta wiggles out of his arms and heads for the stairs. “And a back massage,” she calls over her shoulder.

“I’ll be right there,” Cassian tells her. But he waits to hear their bedroom door click shut before he also goes upstairs, not towards Nesta but to the reading nook.

“Hey, bro?” He tries to sound lighthearted as he approaches Az. “Do you mind not cockblocking me in my own house?”

Az doesn’t look up from the report he’s reading, flipping a page. “It’s rude to be horny in public spaces.”

“My house is not a public space,” Cassian growls, struggling to keep his temper. “Before you moved in, it was a very, very private space.” For him and Nesta alone, he doesn’t add.

Azriel finally looks up, question in his eyes. “So what?” he says. “You want me to leave?”

Never, is the automatic assurance that nearly comes out of Cassian’s mouth. Of course he’d never want his brother gone, especially when he’s clearly going through… something. But he bites down on the word and takes a seat in the chair across from Az. “I want to know how long you’re planning on staying. For real. You can run from your problems as much as you want, but that doesn’t mean I can provide you with a hiding place forever.”

“Wow.” Azriel’s eyes widen in mock-disbelief and he clasps a hand to his chest. “So cold, brother. I think you caught some of your girlfriend’s iciness.”

Cassian narrows his eyes seriously at Az. “Or maybe I’m being the only adult here.” Cassian now has responsibilities to a person who isn’t part of his traditional inner circle. A person he can see himself making long-term plans with, a person he plans on keeping around. It changes the course of his future in a way that the rest of his family probably haven’t realized yet.

Though maybe Azriel does realize it, because he looks away and murmurs, “No need to rub it in.”

For the thousandth time that month, Cassian wonders what caused Azriel to run away from Velaris. It’s a secret Az refuses to share with even him.

“I’m trying,” Azriel says. His words are slow, unsure. “I’m trying to create space between me and that city, but I’m going to need more time. I can’t tell you how long it’ll take until I can go back. But if you can’t keep me here, I’ll find someplace else to stay.” He shrugs. “It’s not that hard.”

Cassian exhales, feeling sympathy twist deep in his chest for his best friend—and he doesn’t even know what the sympathy is for. “Then take your time,” he says sincerely. “Stay here forever if you want. We can Photoshop you into all our pictures. But don’t think I’m gonna make it easy on you,” he warns.

“You already don’t make it easy on me,” Az mutters. “I can hear you and Nesta fucking all the time.”

“First, don’t ever talk about Nesta and fucking in the same sentence ever again.”

Az blinks in surprise, likely remembering the way they would talk about their hookups before Nesta came into the picture. “Damn, she’s got you bad.”

“Second,” Cassian continues, “I will not hesitate to make you sleep outside if you get on my or Nesta’s nerves.”

“With that attitude, I’ll be out of here by next week,” Az snorts. He crosses his feet and picks up his report again, clearly done with this conversation.

Seeing no hope in rubbing the point in further, Cassian leaves Azriel to his work.

***

Nesta is stripped down to her underwear and getting ready to shower when she notices a missed call from Elain on her phone.

She hesitates at her sister’s name on the screen, wondering what could possibly have encouraged Elain to call while Nesta was at dance class. What happened to the times that Nesta could go weeks without a single person checking up on her?

Looking toward the bedroom door as if Cassian will come in and save her from having to call Elain back, she waits a solid minute before giving up.

Elain picks up on the first ring. “I’m surprised you called back,” she greets.

“I’m full of surprises these days.” Nesta settles onto the bed. “What did you want?” She doubts Elain called just for a check-in, not with the stagnant bitterness that’s been between them lately.

“To have a normal conversation with my sister for once.”

Nesta tries not to roll her eyes all the way back into her head, even though no one is around to see her. “Go on and have it then.”

“I heard from Rhys that Azriel moved into Cassian’s place,” Elain says in her honey-sweet voice. “I’ve been meaning to ask how that’s going for you.”

Nesta’s brow furrows at that voice, the one that Elain uses whenever she wants to give her best first impression—or wants to pry something out of someone. “It’s going fine,” she says flatly. “Az and I get along great.”

That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but…

“You’re calling him Az now?” Nesta can hear the way Elain tries to tamp down on her curiosity, but she’s never been as good at affecting apathy as Nesta is.

“Yeah,” she answers. “Why? Do you miss him?”

Elain nearly chokes over the line. “Why—why would you say that?”

“I thought you guys were friendly,” Nesta says, leaning back into the pillows. “Doesn’t everyone miss him back in Velaris?”

“Oh.” The relief in Elain’s voice is palpable, piquing Nesta’s curiosity. “Yeah, we miss him.” She clears her throat. “He left without telling anybody.”

Nesta fiddles with the band of her panties. “You don’t know why he left either?”

Elain is silent for several moments. “No.” Her answer is quiet, truthful. “I don’t know.” She adds, “Keep an eye on him, will you? I would do it myself, but I’ve been iced out.”

Nesta finds this very suspicious. She can’t bring herself to be interested enough to keep snooping, however, not as the door creaks open and Cassian enters the room. “Will do,” she promises Elain, and makes a quick goodbye. When she hangs up, Cassian asks, “Who was it?”

“Elain.” Nesta frowns at her phone. She wonders if someone like Cassian would be better at reading between the lines of the strange conversation she just had. Maybe he could put his finger on the mysterious relationship between her sister and his brother. But since there are no creeks nearby for Azriel to be shoved into, and it isn’t any of Nesta’s business either way, she decides to give him and Elain time to sort their own shit out.

“What did she want?”

Nesta refocuses on Cassian, who leans against the door appreciating her half-naked form stretched out before him. Without words, she holds her arms open.

He shoves off the door and approaches her on the bed, letting her envelop him into a hug. It isn’t the warmest or most comforting hug, and her arms are stiff as stone, but he melts into her either way. There’s a weariness in his broad shoulders that spikes concern in her.

When Cassian pulls away, she traps his face in her hands and scans it closely for answers. “What’s wrong with you?” she asks. “You fell asleep early during the last two movies we watched and you’re half-asleep now.”

“What are you talking about?” He throws his signature smile her way, but it lacks alertness. “Do I look like there’s anything wrong with me?”

“You tell me.” Nesta shifts so she can slide her hand over the smooth plane of his back, resting her palm on the warm spot between his shoulder blades. It’s her best imitation of a soothing gesture, and it makes Cassian’s lips quirk up lightly.

He hangs his head and sighs. “Is it possible to have growing pains at my age?”

Nesta is confused. “Like, physically?”

“No,” he says. “Just… growing up.”

“I don’t think we ever stop growing up,” she answers honestly. Maybe she’s biased because a part of her is still trapped in that childlike state, and she has more growing to do than most people. “I think it hurts a little every time we have to shift and become someone older. What’s hurting you now?”

Her hand slides up to the nape of Cassian’s neck, gently massaging the muscles there. His head droops even more under her touch. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that when I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” he huffs. But he doesn’t look very inclined to argue.

Nesta squeezes the back of his neck. “I can be the stable one, too, you know. I can take care of you.” She should’ve defeated this misconception sooner.

“That’s not what I meant,” Cassian says, shaking his head. “I meant that I promised you a massage.”

Oh. She nearly forgot about that. “If you tell me what growing pains you’re having, I’ll let you join me in the shower,” she promises. “You can do whatever you want there.”

He looks up at that, dragging his gaze over her mostly-bare figure, and Nesta knows she’s won. “Tell me,” she demands one final time.

Cassian inspects her face, likely deciding how much he should reveal or not. “I’ve been thinking about the future,” he finally says. “It was never something I cared much about before, but now it keeps me up at night.”

Nesta is slow to realize—he’s talking about their future. “You really never thought about the future before?” she asks. At one point in time, Nesta had her life planned out to the age of forty. Her plans hadn’t included this, though.

Cassian shakes his head. “There was nothing for me to think about.”

She runs soothing fingers across his scalp, her heart rate unexpectedly picking up a beat. “And what do you think about now?”

Hazel eyes meet hers with wariness. “Stupid stuff,” he says. “Cars, taxes, insurance.”

At the look on her face, he pulls away from the hand that’s gone still on his neck. “Okay, let’s get you in the shower before I scare you away for good.”

Nesta feels herself being scooped into Cassian’s arms, but she doesn’t quite register it. It’s not until they’re in the bathroom that she remembers words. “I’m not scared,” she says from the cradle of his arms. “I was just surprised.”

Regaining her senses, she squirms until Cassian puts her down on the floor. She straightens. “I’ve never... pondered on the small things like that.”

Except they aren’t really small or stupid, are they? They’re big, inevitable facets of sharing a life with someone. She clears her throat. “The way we live now is already so nice. I guess I forgot things won’t be like this forever.”

Which isn’t the most assuring thing to say from the way Cassian’s face becomes carefully still. But in a blink he’s smiling again, his hands going to unclip her bra. “Don’t worry yourself with that shit,” he chuckles. “I was only dreaming.”

Guilt turns Nesta’s stomach into sludge. She made Cassian share what was weighing on him only for her to brush it off. She wants to talk through it with him until he’s giving her a real smile, but she doesn’t know where to start or what to say. So she lets her bra drop to the floor and steps close to wrap her arms around him.

His breath hitches against her ear, and one of his broad hands comes up to rest on her bare back. “Two hugs in one day?” he says, his amusement covering up some deeper emotion. “I’m either doing something right or doing something very wrong.”

“No. I’m just feeling appreciative.” Her hand returns to that space between his shoulder blades, the spot that seems to disarm him, and pats him there. She gives herself a solid moment to luxuriate in the warmth and size and hard strength of him before saying, “Get undressed, will you?”

One of his hands squeezes her butt. “You need to get off me first.”

She hums in agreement but doesn’t move—hoping he can feel everything she doesn’t know how to tell him.

***

a/n: i bought my eid dress and it’s so pretty yall 🥺

taglist: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes

[insufferablelust]

blurb/one shot about reid coming home after prison and the team wants you to go home with him to his apartment to comfort him because you guys are good friends. he starts to talk about how lonely he was and how much he missed talking and laughing with you but also how much he dreamt of touching/fucking you while he was there. spencer is a very hard dom and rough considering he hasn’t touched anybody in months.

Warning : Smut! with some name calling, and dom!Spencer x Sub! Reader.

When you received the news that Spencer has been released from that god awful prison, you jumped at the first look of him entering the bullpen with JJ after the whole Cat ordeal. You hugged him like you would hug a boyfriend, but you didn’t care, you haven’t seen him in so long— he refused to let you visit him on prison because he can’t bear the thought of how the others would watch you and Spencer’s blood boiled at the thought.

Its how you two has always been together, since you joined the team after Emily depart to interpol, you have always been close to Spencer— from the outside, it would look like you two were too close, but neither of you really cared. It would be naive of course, if you lie and say you don’t love him— because you do, as a best friend and so much more. But you knew, how difficult relationships could get for him so you never tried to pry more than you were given even if you had to watch him break down after Maeve, and the stories that follows.

Morgan teased you about it before he left, saying how you should make your move now rather than later— only Morgan knows how much love you have for Spencer (and Morgan is also the only person who knows how much love Spencer have for you) but you shrugged and laughed it off, swallowing down the bitter pill of reality that he would never look at you more than just a friend— a very close caring friend that kissed multiple times because they were drunk, yeah that’s it, right?

Wrong.

It’s been a few weeks since Spencer’s release and the whole Mr.Scratch mess. You were just quietly enjoying your mandatory break with red wine on your hand and flashes of imagination that accompanied your thoughts. You sighed as you take a look at your phone to see a message from Penelope.

Garcia, P ❤️

Hey princess! how about you, me, em, JJ, and Tara go out to shop tonight? maybe we could catch up too? i miss you aaalll soo much.

You smiled at the sweet message, quickly typing a ‘yes i’ll be there, your majesty. and i miss you too.” It wasn’t that difficult of a choice, seeing as you weren’t doing anything anyways, and you sure as hell could buy some more things just for the sake of retail therapy.

You quickly changed into a comfy dress that stops just below your knee, with a vintage belt around your hips and a cute burgundy cropped cardigan to keep you warm. You were zipping your bag when you heard it, heard the pretty loud bangs on your door that had you startled. To say that you were a bit paranoid was an understatement, as you approached the door with a gun prepared on your hands— you squinted at the peephole to see if you should open your doors or not, to your absolute childish-crush surprise— it was Spencer, a very disheveled looking Spencer standing in front of your door.

As soon as you sees him, you placed your gun away safely tucked on your cabinet before opening the door and let him in. He was dressed somewhat nicely, shirt tucked underneath his pants with his signature dark blue cardigan, his hair was a mess, and the bags below his eyes indicated that he’s in fact not doing well— though you figured as much.

“Spence, are you okay? you look tired.” You mumbled carefully, as you sat down beside him on your couch, his eyes wouldn’t even look at you but rather taken a keen interest on the floor of your apartment.

“Oh..are you going on a date?” He asks timidly, his voice shaky and on edge as his gazed turned to your bag and then your clothes.

“What? No, no no! Pen asked me out on a shopping night with the girls so i was just about to go.” You laughed, and you swore you heard his loud sigh of relieve when you said that, but you’re convinced that your mind is telling tricks to you.

“Well um i can go.. if you’re—“ You cut him off instantly just as he about to stand, you grabbed his wrist tightly to pull him back down and shake your head, smilling softly, “No.. Please, i can shop another time— you came all the way here so stay okay?” You begged him, eyes desperately trying to lock with his.

“Okay... okay, Y/N.” He sniffled, eyes finally met yours— you were shocked to see they were brimmed with raw fresh tears, falling slowly down his cheeks— you didn’t say anything else, just immediately tucking him against your sides so his head was laid on top of your heart and your fingers on his hair.

“Oh it’s okay, shh it’s okay— you’re okay, i’m here just let it out..” You cooed, holding him tightly as he sobbed onto your chest.

~

“Got your pretty dress all wet..” He mumbled as you both were laying down on top of the soft rug near your fireplace on the floor, your cheeks warmed at the sound of his voice, “It doesn’t matter, it’s not that your teardrops are made of paint anyways.”

You both laughed at your answer, laying on each other’s side, eyes locked. You brushed your fingertips across his cheeks, feeling his breath shuddered, “Spencer..” You whispered softly.

“Hm?”

“What happened?” His eyes fluttered shut as he drew in a sharp breath, your fingers were calm and soothing on his skin. “You’ll hate me..” He suddenly whispered, voice shot and it nearly made you cry.

“No, no i won’t. Hey look at me, there you go.. Spencer.. you know i’ll always support you no matter what, and i’ll never judge you of any decision you made because i know you, okay? and i trust you.” You emphasized each word, as your nose brushed against each other— you could care less at the thoughts of breaking regulations now.

“I know Y/N, it’s not that.. it’s just..” He moved back a bit, before intertwining your hand in his and kissed the knuckles, “I missed feeling happy.. missed being.. being able to help.. to talk freely... to sleep without nightmares.. to just—“ His voice trembled as fresh stream of tears threatening to fall upon his skin, you were quick to held his hand tighter so he knows you’re there with him— that you’re real.

“To have a control over my life, over something.. everything is out of place, Y/N... I-I can’t live like this.” You could see it in his eyes, just how much he wanted to feel the control again— to make his own decisions without having the trauma of being drugged by a female serial killer or catched by the police.

“And.. and i can’t stop thinking about..” He stopped as he bit his lip, under the soft glow of the crackling fore— you could see just how pink his cheeks get as he stared at you still, his palm is now pressed against your cheeks, “About what, spencer?” You whispered, feeling overwhelmed already by the warmth of him pressing against you so closely, your heart thrummed against your ribcage like a drum going off on it’s own.

“You... you— one of the only thing that kept me alive.. alive on— you, you i can’t get you out of my mind. I don’t like it..” His lips were practically brushing against yours as you widen your eyes, letting a pained, “Oh..” Left your lip as you came to a realization at what he’s referring to, but before you could get out of his grasp— he cut you off,

“I don’t like it because i can’t do a damn thing about it, Y/N. I don’t like it because i can’t touch you whenever i want, I don’t like it because.. because i’m so used to having things so certain.. all my life, all i want to believe in was numbers, and— and science but the only thing that makes sense right now in my life.. is you.” He craddled your jaw so gently as your forehead pressed against each other.

The room grew quiet after that, just heavy breathing, and both of you savoring the moment, the warmth of each other’s skin. You could hear a pin drop, but the only thing that you heard was his heartbeat that beats at the same pace as yours— fast, and full of desire, pent up desire for each other. His leg tangled itself onto yours as he inch his lips closer so they were practically grazing against each other, before he kissed you softly, softly yet so rough.. Rough as in he was savoring you, indulging in your taste.

The kiss lit you on fire, your skin burned against him as you whimpered softly at the pace of his kiss, it was rushed— yet full of desire, desire to claim each other.. to control you, and if you said you didn’t want it then that would be a lie. Here you are, sober and bright, with his tongue shoved deep inside your mouth, battling dominance— as you submitted to him, letting him to own that control.

When both of your lungs ran out of air, you whined against him, to which he pulled back and pant. Both of you tried to catch your breath, but your whole body is burning with fire— that fire is insatiable, the desire for him is insatiable.

“You said... you need control... let me be your canvas.” You whispered as you put your hands above your head and bit your lip nervously.

The silence returned as he watched you, stared at you, with so much adoration, shock, and lust.. it took him a bit of time to respond to your declaration, his hand wrapped itself on your neck, just held it there with a bit of pressure before whispering, “I’m not going to go easy on you.. are you sure you want this?”

You only smiled, and bat your eyelash at him, whispering, “Don’t hold back, Reid.”

~

Your back was arched in an angle you never knew you could reached, your hips constantly bucking up as your wrist tugged against the belt that tied them up tightly. Here you were, body as nude as day, with your hands tight together on top of your head, your panties shoved deep inside your mouth and the love of your life— the new version of him, has been between your legs for hours now, sucking the poor swollen clit of your cunt, bringing you to orgasm after orgasm that your eyes was wet with tears.

He hummed softly as he felt you clenched around his tongue, and tasting the way you ache and gushed onto his taste buds— groaning at the sweetness. He pressed a soft electrifying kiss on top of your clit that sent you to a sobbing mess before crawling up and pull the panties from your mouth and smile so softly yet so condescendingly.

“Oh princess.. Look at you, your make up is ruined.. look like such a mindless thing,” He taunted, causing you to buck your hips instantly, which earned a chuckle from him, “I didn’t know you would be this much of a depraved desperate whiny little girl, Y/N. I should’ve claimed you sooner.” You were screaming inside your head, telling him yes-yes you should but it’s okay.. i don’t mind now, just please— but the only thing that came out of your sinful bitten raw lips was a small “I’ve always been yours.”

He sees red instantly, hands clamping down your neck, as he pressed his forehead against yours, feeling an overwhelming sense of power— control he’s been craving, and oh how kind were you, the light of his life to serve that control on a silver platter for him— silly thing you are.. of course he’s going to take you in every way possible.

“That’s right you are, keep that in mind, bunny. Try not to scream too loud yeah? hate to bother your neighbor right? how will i explain? that my baby just can’t take it when she get fucked til she goes mindless?”

Just as you were about to answer, his cock pushed past your tight entrance, so suddenly and deep that you yelled, yelled with pure pleasure of being stretched— burning with pleasure, “Oh! Spencer!” Your eyes rolled back to your skull, as he groaned, “Fuck— you’re so fucking tight angel, oh there’s a good little slut for me.”

At that, he began to thrust into you, so fast yet so deep, your lips wrapped itself around his thumb as he fuck the sanity out of you, feeling the overwhelming amount of raw pleasure— and love at the same time.

“Mmm! take me! oh god so deep, so— fuck!” You moaned after he pulled his thumb back, cultching your wrists together as the head of his cock hit that spot— the spot that has you seeing stars. He smiled as he keeps on working his thrusts “Yeah? yeah right there baby?”

“Y-Oh! yes, please please” Your whines were half coherent, but neither of you cared, nor complained, the only thing in your minds right now is to indulge in this burning fire of a pleasure, to relinquished control.

“Good girl, so fucking tight for me Y/N— god i love you..” He said it— said it, as his thrust became sloppier, yet somewhat deeper, his face were on your neck— biting a huge amount of marks, marks that’ll make sure everyone knows you’re his.

“I love you! i loveyou! god i—“ You were cut off as his other hand reach down to rub your clit fast, sending you into a spasm fit, back arched, nipples against his sweaty chest and the walls of your cunt clenched around his cock so tightly that it brings him to the very edge.

“Cum baby, cum for me, good- fucking girl do it.” He whispered, walls breaking down as he hold himself back as you cum, cum so hard around his cock that you were silent— only letting a very high pitched chants of his names, which brought him to his own release, coating— painting your walls with his cum, claiming you inside and out.

You both tried to catch your breath as he tried to pull out, in which you whined, “No.. wanna— wanna— ugh please?” Your glassy eyes were looking at him with such a pure adoration, pure submission, that he softly smiled and propped your both to your side with his softening cock still nestled deep inside your cunt.

You sighed as he unclasp his belt, bringing your wrist down to kiss them one by one. “I love you.. i do, i truly do Y/N.” He whispered, eyes looking at yours as you smiled widely, nodding and lightly sniffling.

“Hey.. dont cry, shh shh come here baby, hey hey.. are we taking turns to cry now?” He chuckled against your hair as he pulled you close, embraced you in his arm which you giggled at and pushed his chest a bit, before nuzzling your noses together,

“I’ve always loved you, Spencer Reid, and i always will.”

——

Oh my god!!! i know its not like the actual req, i changed it up a bit i hope whoever you are, you won’t mind!! anyways, thank you so much for requesting i love you! and thank you everyone for reading.

I’m gettting through my reqs right now, so if you requested in the past few weeks, expect them to be out soon! I love you all, blurb and tag list is always open. ❤️

[phoenixyfriend]

Time-Travel feat. Ino, Sakura, TenTen

The short of it is "Ino, in the Founders Era, sees Izuna and makes it her personal mission to Tap That."

The time-travelers are Ino, Sakura, and TenTen. Why them? I like girls being badasses, these three make a badass trio, and I don't want to deal with Caged Bird Seal politics. (Hyuuga just... complicate time-travel plots.)

Ino is the one that is clearly clan, and they make a group decision that the benefits of Yamanaka backing (and by extension Akimichi and Nara) outweigh the potential drawbacks.

It's pretty easy to convince them that they're Worth It. Ino doesn't bring anything new, really, but she's clever and knows the clan techniques and is very good at them, so the clan head (after performing a mind search to confirm the story) is like Sure, You're In.

Meanwhile, Sakura is a terrifyingly competent medic that knows hundreds, if not thousands, of medical techniques that don't even EXIST yet, and TenTen might not be a medic like the other two, or capable of explodey punches, or clan-trained, but the girl is a taijutsu powerhouse that's probably fast as hell because she was trained by GAI, and she's got at minimum a journeyman-level training in fuuinjutsu.

(Also just, don't argue with the 100% accuracy lady. Just don't. The reason she doesn't have a body-count to rival Minato's eventual count is because she doesn't want to and basically no other reason. There are some opponents that a Kunai to the Neck won't take down for whatever reason? Iron-skin, water body, super healing/shapeshifting, but for the rank and file? That's a one-hit. And she can throw hundreds of kunai at a time, so... if you take the 100% accuracy statements literally, she's a nightmare if she decides to go lethal.)

They run missions for a bit, and Ino is... usually the one sent out on field missions, because Sakura's busy teaching people how to save lives, and TenTen is currently the closest thing the Yamanaka have to a seal master--she's not a master, not on the level of an Uzumaki or even a Senju, but she's way better than most on account of village training schema and it's cheaper to give her a long-term role in the triple clan system than to hire independent contractors--but sometimes they all go out!

And... okay, I'm gonna be real here: Nobody approves of the way Ino dresses other than Ino and her girls.

Sakura extends her pants a bit. TenTen's fine. Ino refuses to stop wearing crop tops and short skirts, and none of you can stop her.

It helps that Ino's response to guys propositioning her is to tell them to back off, and then if they get handsy, she breaks their wrists. If they're ninjas getting handsy, she starts a fight, but most ninjas are smarter than that because they realize she's not just A Kunoichi, based on how she's moving, but a kunoichi with long, free-flowing hair, which is like... basically a big "I'm A-rank or better, come at me if you dare" flag. On the off chance that someone tries to fuck with Ino and they're actually out of her league in taijutsu, she has Mind Scrambling or, if absolutely necessary, an ear-piercing scream that summons a woman that can fistfight gods.

(And absolutely has.)

But anyway, The Girls go for a Girls Night Out one day. No plans to get laid, but they want to go shopping and have fruity drinks and maybe cause a little trouble.

They visit a blacksmith at one point, because weapons shops aren't quite a thing yet due to lack of centralized shinobi systems, and TenTen's talking up a storm with the smith about things like carbon infusion and alloys preferences, and Sakura's just standing off to a side reading something because most of what she wants/needs can be made by Akimichi blacksmiths, so she's not really in need of anything specialty. She wanders off after a bit, tells them all she wants to visit the apothecary to see if they have any herbs she's running low on. Ino is browsing examples of the blacksmith's more esoteric handiwork When In Walks An Uchiha.

TenTen has a VERY basic look, more or less civilian who got some ninja training, so Izuna doesn't pay her much attention, but blonde isn't a very common color in the Land of Fire, unless one happens to be a Yamanaka or Senju, and even among them it's not like EVERY clan member. (Or Namikaze but imo Minato's color is actually from Land of Earth immigrants and is a BLATANTLY different shade from characters like Ino and Tsunade.)

Senju is obviously, uh, bad, but the Yamanaka and Uchiha are basically neutral... mostly. There's some tension. Izuna isn't expecting to be attacked, but he's constantly darting glances out the side of his eye just in case.

Ino is... not unaware of Izuna.

She feels his eyes on her, notes the fact that he keeps making faces like he's not sure what to think, and Ino... Ino is of the opinion that this is funny.

She decides to drop something on purpose just so she can beeeeeeeeeeend over to pick it up and see what happens. Ino, again, does not dress appropriately for the decade she is in. Izuna chokes on his own spit.

Ino: I'm gonna be a bit of a ho. Yamanaka Clan: Please don't, our reputation is-- Ino: I'M GONNA BE A BIT OF A HO.

So Ino's fucking with Izuna's head by just... being Ino, really, she turns around like "OMG are you alright???" and lets him see that her eyes are lacking pupils so he doesn't keep worrying about whether she's a Senju, pats him on the back, coos over him, flatters his hair, and then insults his fashion sense.

She is of the firm belief that his expression is hilarious. Flirt Flirt Flirt "but you're wearing that? Really? Oh honey, you should know better."

(Ino pulls pickup artist shit on Izuna.)

Ino is fucking with him, and she is enjoying herself. She's a flirt, she's gorgeous, she's a bit of a ho, and Izuna is a hot, main family clan boy who keeps blushing. He's maybe two years older than her and he squeaks when she squeezes his shoulder and compliments his muscles.

And after all that, after Ino has wound him up and turned him around and gotten him confused and flustered and a little angry...

That is when they feel the ground shake and hear Madara screaming for The Pink-Haired Bitch to "come back here so I can kick your ass!"

So. Yes. Sakura has picked a fight with Madara. I don't know how or why, I just know that Sakura and Madara are fighting, Ino and Izuna are both going 'dude WHY' about their respective fighty person and fleeing the blacksmith to go stop whatever's going on before they get banned from town--because really, they can force their way in, but it's way easier to get those tasty daifuku mochi from that one shop when people WANT to serve them--and TenTen is... still chatting up the blacksmith. The girl is going to get a discount.

Sakura leads Madara on a bit of a merry chase so the fight happens a mile outside of town--Ino loves her more than ever--and there's a flare of "Sakura punches a Susanoo," and by the time Izuna and Ino get there, Sakura is yelling in Madara's face about how he's fucking up his eyes.

Madara is. Offended. Izuna is also offended. Those are clan secrets, and Sakura is just looking him in the eye without fear and I'm like. Half convinced that they want to just tear her throat out.

Except Ino is there, and Sakura called her by name, and they know that names with 'Ino' among the Yamanaka are only for clan heirs, and they can't just pick a fight with the entire clan.

They. They can't afford that right now. Tajima is ramping up the whole Thing with the Senju again and they do not have the resources to add another front.

"For fuck's sake, will you let me go alive if I fix some of the damage you've done to yourself?" "You can fix the Mangekyo?" "Uh, no, nobody can fix that hellscape of a doujutsu without some incredibly invasive surgery that I refuse to do in a non-sterile environment unless there's literally no other choice, but I can reverse some of the chakra strain on your ocular nerve if you stop trying to pick a fight because I got the last of the [some medicinal plant that only grows up in the badlands around Iwa]."

Izuna shrieks and demands if that's really what they were punching down trees for and Madara yells at him to fuck off and Ino just laughs at all of them.

Sakura is like. Two seconds away from putting Madara in a headlock and calling him a nerd. He's like a solid five years older than her and she's smarter than he is and he's a jock but she's going to dunk his head in a toilet, I swear to god.

[Image Description: a gif from Will and Grace where a man in a dark shirt approaches a woman in a white shirt for a hug. Both characters have their arms spread wide in greeting, but the woman subverts the expected hug and pulls the man into a headlock with an angry expression.]

(Tenten is just, she's having a good time with a random blacksmith, talking shop. She just comes out to see all this crap has happened and it's like she came back with pizzas to see the apartment wrecked.)

Anyway, Sakura does some Medic Mojo on the Uchiha bros, Ino continues to flirt with Izuna until he can't tell up from down anymore, and when they're headed back to meet up with TenTen and see if there are any ruffled feathers that need smoothing, Ino declares that she's going to get that boy to propose to her.

"Don't people usually say 'I'm gonna marry that boy' or--" "Nah, I don't know him well enough to make that decision. I just want him invested in me. Whether or not I do anything with that... depends on how well he woos me."

And anyway, things spiral from there, Ino keeps hitting on Izuna whenever she gets a chance, Izuna keeps being Very Overwhelmed by this girl that shows off so much of her body and has the confidence of a god--because Ino is the epitome of confidence and always will be--while Sakura fucks off to badger the Senju into peace by making friends with Hashirama and bribing Tobirama with medical developments and flirting with Touka (except Touka's almost a decade older than her and is flattered but not interested, thank you), and TenTen is... honestly I'm not sure what TenTen is doing except that there's a very solid chance she's sneaking off to meet with Uzumaki specialists to help her build a Zetsu Trap.

Our trio of badass ladies decides that Hm, Actually, Having Bijuu Backup Would Be Nice.

Ino's the best sensor of the three, but even she's not feeling out where the nearest bijuu is, so they go for the by-that-point tried and true method of "Sakura goes and hassles Tobirama for information while TenTen and Ino play cards with Hashirama."

Tobirama does point them in the direction of the nearest bijuu--it's the Kyuubi, even!--and Sakura just... invites Hashirama along.

Hashirama: Oh! What do I have to do if I come? Sakura: Stand there and look pretty, mostly. Hashirama: Yes, I can do that. Sakura: And then interfere if we piss off the Kyuubi enough that he attacks. He probably won't, but Mokuton is useful if he does. Hashirama: Oooooh yeah, I can do that.

Tobirama is so tired but these gals are pretty determined to do the whole Peace Thing and Hashirama can mostly take care of himself, and Butsuma isn't quite dead but almost there (idk some disease or infected wound, it doesn't matter), so Hashirama isn't a Clan Head ditching his job but there's nobody around that can stop him from running off, so Tobirama's just like "Cool, don't die."

Butsuma: [dying] Sakura: [sipping a mixed drink wearing sunglasses inside] Shame.

So they go find Kurama, and try to barter with him about the whole Zetsu situation, and... ngl okay I have an entire conversation in mind about "your evil goo uncle" and "none of us know how to seal a bijuu without taking away your autonomy, but sealing is the best way to hide you from Zetsu, so do you have any ideas on a compromise" and "I can SORT of figure out how to--"

And then Kurama just. Summons a smaller fox. Which has a scroll. And pokes it towards TenTen because she's the one that's Impressed Him The Right Way over the course of the conversation.

(Mostly by being vaguely sparky about fuuinjutsu and easily distracted by the Ifs of it instead of the Whys.)

And once she's signed--which Ino and Sakura are just like 👀 about because Oh???--Kurama nods and just. Presses his snout to her hand. And without telling her what he's doing, he just enters her body and settles in as a consenting jinchuuriki situation. He can leave without killing her if he wants, but he can also just chill out. He's hidden from Zetsu, TenTen gets a boost, and nobody's in prison.

(Time to belatedly note that TenTen was earlier suggested as the best jinchuuriki option since, among other things, she had the least to lose as far as chakra control went.)

TenTen: My chakra control is pretty shitty, but I can fight hand to hand for literal hours without feeling like I've done more than a light jog, is that good?

TenTen is such a different brand of ninja from most of the heavy hitters. Because her main attack is just More Knife.

Team InoShikaCho has their whole human yoyo thing, Sakura can punch gods, Naruto and Sasuke are literally insane levels of power, Kiba turns into a giant three-headed dog and Shino can insert exploding bugs into people, Lee can kick hard enough to make a bijuu pause, Neji and Hinata are... okay I don't have much to say about the Hyuuga, but... TenTen. She's just here with some seals and whole lot of sharp and pointy things.

Founders era, you have Madara and Hashirama with their god-level techniques, Tobirama is usually sword but has a bajillion other things like his Suiton, Izuna has a Mangekyo, Mito has her chains and was the first jinchuuriki... and then, here’s TenTen, with Many Sharp.

Her special attacks are Throw, Stab, and Kick the Shit Out Of because she still trained under Maito Gai.

TenTen is the current queen of "catch these hands."

After the village is founded, she challenges one of the og founders to taijutsu only and the literal only reason she doesn't win against Hashirama is that he has a healing factor and is built like a brick house.

TenTen: Hey, Izuna, if you beat me in a taijutsu fight, Ino might be impressed. Izuna: No weapons? TenTen: No weapons, no bijuu, no Sharingan. Izuna: Cool, I can do this. [five minutes later] Izuna: [screaming]

The triple clan alliance: We will gladly join Konoha on the condition that-- Izuna, internally, chanting: That I marry Ino That I marry Ino That I marry Ino-- Madara, internally: Please don't say that Izuna marries Ino Tobirama, internally: [math meme because he can imagine like eighty conditions] Hashirama, internally: [elevator music] The triple clan alliance: That you put Haruno Sakura in charge of the hospital. Izuna: [internal screaming] Madara: [sigh of relief] Tobirama: [internal cheering] Hashirama: That sounds great! I've seen her work, she's a great choice for hospital management, do you think she'd be willing to spearhead a medical training program on the side?

Izuna just wanted the politics to be his wingman here, she's killing him.

Ino has broken this man.

(At this point she's mostly made up her mind... unfortunately, she deeply enjoys messing with him! He's too fun to tease!)

Ino: I want to marry him, yeah, but did you see his face when I teased him about visiting the Daimyou's court and looking for a rich husband to bring to Konoha? He even knows I'd never marry a civilian, and yet.

(He knows, it's just that his brain is dumb when she is involved.)

TenTen asks Hashirama if he's opposed to threesomes, mostly because Mito is amazing and TenTen's a little in love with her. Hashirama is NOT opposed to threesomes, but only with Madara, sorry.

Ino is just... the queen of self-confidence. I want to include some gifs to explain but there are just too many.

As a rule, Ino wears high collars, but... she might try to pioneer Tiddy Shirts out of spite because people keep trying to tell her to dress More Appropriately.

Ino, adjusting her wrap top to show more of the chesticles: Relax, Hashirama, I'm just taking a page out of your granddaughter's book. Hashirama: [verbal keysmash]

This one twitter post.

Sakura: You can't just use your tits to get what you want! Ino: I didn't see you complaining when I got us free dango. Ino, misunderstanding Sakura's point: Uh, yeah I can? Watch. Ino: [gets drinks for the table and a free dessert too] Ino: See? Sakura: Oh my god. TenTen, cutting a slice of cake: Yeah I think she's got us here Sakura. TenTen: I love using Ino's tits to get what I want. Sakura: No!

Sakura: Why am I the only one of us who isn't down for Ino using feminine wiles for material gain? TenTen: Does it have anything to do with your unresolved childhood crush on her? Sakura: ..... shut up.

Sakura: Was Sasuke descended straight from Izuna's line? What if you just negated his existence? Ino: I mean, his soul still exists, right? Or will exist? It's not like we could have lined the genetics up perfectly anyway, don't worry about it.

Once Ino finally lets Izuna woo her, they turn into that couple that's just constantly making out in dark corners. PDA is over 9000. Sakura throws erasers at them to make them stop. TenTen catcalls. TenTen just. Not interested in being a thot in the slightest, but delighted by Ino being a thot.

Izuna: Help I don't know how to BDSM and my hot wife is a dominatrix. Madara: Sucks to be you.

(Ino being a bit of a ho fits and feels fun because she's also just like, very convincingly an actualized character. If Ino is acting like a bit of a ho it's very definitely because she wants to and is absolutely going to make that everybody else's problem.)

Ino, at any given moment: Did you miss the part where I'm the hottest person here?

I'm honestly considering platonic-marriage TenTen/Tobirama on the basis of Seals And Sparking. There aren't enough women in the Founders Era for me to ship Sakura with one so I'm going to say she ends up living in domestic bliss with a Nara kunoichi.

Sakura: Can I just. Can I just be Gay here? Like, can I just Be Gay and get Big Gay Married and have 2 dogs and lead a prestigious medical program? Tenten and Ino: Of course you can, hon! We'll be up to our nonsense the entire time, though.

Sakura: Well... at least Shikamaru isn't here to complain about Ino being the way she is.

OH I forgot to mention TenTen wearing Externalized Small Fox Kurama around like a scarf.

Kurama: [Gets to be out of the seal and See Stuff] TenTen: [Constantly has a companion around who is never tired of hearing her Special Interest Rant about smithing techniques and what will eventually be Aerodynamics after TenTen accidentally builds a plane while tinkering]

TenTen: I wonder if I could make Temari's giant fan thing work for me without wind chakra. [two years of tinkering later] TenTen: I can't remember what I was trying to do at the start but I can definitely fly now.

(Sakura's honestly lucky that Karin isn't there.)

(And tbh Sakura's only The Sensible One until Madara pisses her off and then it's time for people to remind her that she can't just go around Punching Things.)

When Sakura is forced to be the Voice of Reason she is always frustrated. When TenTen is freed from the responsibility of being the Voice of Reason? Shenanigans. TenTen's defense is that she never got to be the crazy one in Team Gai. Like, she’s still a little nutty, but she couldn’t go all out because she was constantly overshadowed by the YOUTH and also Neji’s fate situation.

ANYWAY. TenTen and Tobirama.

TenTen: Your brain makes me horny. Tobirama: Oh, finally, someone sensible.

I remember that while I was brainstorming, I had "TenTen tells Tobirama to marry her within five minutes of meeting him because they vibed so hard on weird fuuinjutsu stuff" followed by "Izuna sputtering and saying that everyone told him that he couldn't just propose to a girl he liked, why does Tobirama get to accept a proposal from a clanless kunoichi when Izuna can't even--"

The proposal is from TenTen to Tobirama, which imo is hilarious in the context of the Warring Clans Era, and also is done on a whim and is basically just.

Tobirama: [says a clever thing about one of TenTen's theories] TenTen, grabbing his hands and looking him in the eye, her own eyes full of stars and the classic Team Gai sunset genjutsu around her: Marry me. Tobirama: ...do we have to have sex? TenTen: No. Tobirama: Do you plan on children? TenTen: Students yes, adoption maybe. Tobirama: I'm sold. Hashirama:

[Image Description: Stephen Colbert, in a suit, dramatically crying at the camera. He has running mascara, and the caption says “I just feel like my heart is going to burst because it’s full of rainbows.” End Description.]

They're Nerd-married and it's the best.

I love the idea of Hashirama just being an Elevator Music Mind when it comes to Tobirama and TenTen. Like. An orange cat. Like, okay, yes Minato is the Hokage with the orange cat energy. And Hashirama is usually golden retriever energy.

But when it comes to Tobirama and TenTen, Hashirama is completely oblivious to their intention to do such things as Raise The Dead For Science.

They're not even raising a specific person for a specific reason, they're just vibing Super Hard and haven't slept enough and forgot this is a bad idea. Got so obsessed with "Can we" that they forgot "should we."

(And I feel like Kurama just encourages them like a chaos entity.)

Tobirama: It was a theoretical exercise. Hashirama, gesturing at the zombie army trying to eat its way out of a Mokuton Cage: !!!! Tobirama: We realized it didn't need to stay theoretical. TenTen: In our defense, we were left unsupervised. Tobirama: It's true, we were.

Sakura: TenTen! I expected better of you! TenTen, with sincere confusion: Why? Sakura: ... TenTen:  Like you knew my team, and my sensei, and also I agreed to help you go back in time and alter the past.

Overall.......

Ino: [here to fluster her pretty boy husband] TenTen: [got platonic married to a necromancer who shares some special interests and hyperfocuses with her] Sakura: [just wants 2.5 kids and a steady paycheck as she runs a world-changing medical program]

Anyway

Back to TenTen being Wild.

[Image Description: TenTen in her Shippudent outfit, which is calf-length red pants and a white qipao top with red trim, turning on the spot while flourishing a pair of scrolls that expel weaponry on her command. End description.]

I like to imagine TenTen has an abundance of common sense, but she just never, ever applies it to herself. She can only common sense when other people present her with their problems. TenTen: What if I combined Ribbon dances with the noble art of YEET, then made it into a fighting style?

"I've got 99 problems and all of them can be solved with sharp and pointy objects."

[This section of the brainstorming is removed on account of being deeply inappropriate for a post that should max out at rated M. Just know that Ino and Izuna are freaks, and TenTen and Tobirama are enablers.]

BACK TO TENTEN BEING ABSURD

Tobirama: Ugh, I can't match Hashirama's energy levels for another entire day. TenTen, a member of Team Gai: I can do it. Tobirama: Hashirama is literally inhumanly happy and-- TenTen: No, no, I got this.

(You have no idea how much practice she has at this Tobirama, no idea.)

Tobirama: I am currently the fastest man alive. TenTen: Only because you cheat with Hiraishin. I could totally beat you in a five-hundred lap race around Konoha. Hashirama: ...five hundred? Tobirama: Wait, what. TenTen, already stretching: Yeah, let's do this! It's been a while since I had a solid challenge, you know? Hashirama: ???? Tobirama, is she serious? Tobirama: She runs two hundred laps around the village every morning, so... probably. Hashirama, wheezing: That's a lot. TenTen: That's a warmup.

Someone, probably Madara: Okay but that's cheating because you have inhuman stamina from the fox! Kurama, chilling on a tree stump napping: No the fuck she does not. Hashirama: What do you mean she doesn't? Kurama: I don't just leave the faucet running 24/7 Senju, besides, she doesn't need my help to be a ridiculous persistence hunting nightmare monster in this regard. TenTen: Awww, Kurama, you flatterer.

TenTen: I was running 150 laps of the village every morning by the time I was fourteen. Hashirama: Why? TenTen: My teacher was fun.

At least one shitty joke from a stranger about stamina In Bed and TenTen and Tobirama just stare at the person.

Maito Dai would be... maybe a little older than the Sannin, younger than Hiruzen. Solid age for TenTen to take as a student, probably. Very feels-worthy, with the whole Passing the Torch thing that that whole family had going on, and that Gai passed it to his students since he didn't have children of his own, the idea of TenTen taking that shot to make sure she's still part of that... family, for lack of a better term? Even in this strange new world they're making by altering history like that.

And that’s about it.

As per usual, most of this was brainstormed with @firebirdeternal​.

[thefanficmonster]

Never Satisfied [Chapter 2]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: Language

Collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤

“this chick is crazy...and I kinda dig it“

It’s been four days since the incident and he’s all but forgotten about it, removed it from his memory entirely as if girls hide from police in his car on a regular basis. 

Today is colder than usual, and his body has been quick to respond to the change, aching around the joints. Some days it’s impossible to move, feeling his clothes and sandpaper and housing spikes as joints. Thankfully, today isn’t that bad, the pain is rather manageable. Which checks out well for him, considering he has to do some cleaning around his apartment. His skin itched at the sight of the mess his living space has become over the last few weeks he hasn’t been bothered to pick up the strewn about items or wash the dishes in the sink. 

Standing in his living room, he turns in a circle, taking in the disaster that is surrounding him. His chest tightens, throat closing up due to the overwhelmingness of the work he has ahead of him while all he wants to do is hide in his room, under the blankets of his bed that is for sure not willing to offer him much comfort at the moment, seeing as how it too is a mess. 

Forget about that! He isn’t sure if his mind is telling him to forget the task he has at hand or the comfort he has in mind. Either way, he knows what the right thing to do is. It may give him anxiety, but it has to be done. 

He clenches his jaw and closes his eyes, taking deep measured breaths and exhaling slowly just like his doctor had instructed him to do, in hopes to ease the tension around his lungs. 

Calming down a bit, he finally decides to get on with it, starting with the smallest space he has to clean, hoping accomplishing a small victory would fuel his ambition to move onto the actual rooms with a lesser struggle. So, pulling on his favorite hoodie and a beanie over his black curls, he slips out of the front door and down the stairs of his apartment complex with a trash bag in hand. He may hate cleaning, but he hates messes more, therefore it’s an easy call to make. Easy when putting the two in comparison, a struggle when he actually has to get on with the process of cleaning. 

With a deep breath as a final ‘You got this’ before action, he unlocks his car doors and looks around its interior. He starts off with the junk in the front - first tending to the passenger seat where he finds a couple plastic bags and a few water bottles. He keeps the area around the driver’s seat clean as can be, so he skips that side. Unfortunately, now he has to turn to the nightmare that is the backseats. 

While it may be tame, compared to most, the three paper bags, five disposable coffee cups that he’d dropped to the floor are more than enough to annoy him. He also makes a frustrating find of a hoodie, a few shirts, a hat, and what appears to be a forgotten CVS bag of medication. Much to his dismay, there’s more: handfuls of old receipts that he is now shoving into the garbage bag he has in hand along with straw wrappers, a few stray cold fries dating back to God-knows-when. He sighs, somewhat relieved to see the backseat is doing a lot better now than it was a couple minutes ago, though it’s not even entirely clean just yet. Something catches his eye though - a choker that was probably covered by one of the clothing items he had found. He picks it up, turning it over in his hand. It’s made of soft leather with a gunmetal ”C” and a pentagram embossed on it. It has a leather braided cord on both ends to tie together and no price tag or brand to indicate its origin. He can’t remember buying this...but then again, retail therapy is a thing and it wouldn’t be the first time he forgot a purchase. He gives it one final once-over before shrugging and pocketing it. After collecting the headphones he’d also dumped in the back and retrieving a pair of boots from the trunk, he locks up his car and heads back into the building, mentally preparing himself for facing the terror of cleaning his apartment.

Returning to his place after tossing the trash in the dumpster along the way, Corpse locks the front door behind him and proceeds to drop the things he’s brought back near the front door. 

This defeats the purpose of cleaning up in the first place, Corpse. He scolds himself but that’s what it remains at - just a scold. He slips the hoodie off his torso, but pauses when the leather collar falls to the floor. Tossing the clothing item on a dining room chair behind him, he picks up the choker and, without as much as a second thought, places it around his throat just below his Adam’s apple The metal feels cool against his skin and as he ties the leather cords at the back of his neck the corners of his lips curve upwards just a little. 

I probably look stupid. He thinks to himself. Corpse tries not to look much at his own reflection, mostly because it’s a reminder of how little sleep he gets with the dark circles and worn out, exhausted eyes staring back at him whenever he looks. But when he catches a glimpse of himself in his peripheral on his way to piss, he admires his reflection, or more so the way the black leather stands out across his pale skin. He’s gotta admit, it looks pretty cool. Edgy. Very urban. Goth maybe? But he still prefers the chains he’s known to wear over chokers.

After doing his business, he starts heading toward his office with the intention of recording a new story for his channel if he manages to find a decent submission - and also to ignore the cleaning he still had to do eventually - when the sound of someone banging on the door of his neighbor’s apartment makes him jump, thinking the sound was coming from his door instead. Being the nosey bitch he is, he creeps to his door, listening to the muffled and almost completely incomprehensible voices from across the hall. The screaming match taking place is making him rather nervous and anxious and as much as he’d rather hide in his room and pretend he never heard or saw anything, he also doesn’t want the altercation to escalate into anything physical. 

“You fucking bailed on me!” An angry female shout dominates over the other voice, a male one, that’s quick to follow the previous example with the tone volume.

“You almost got caught, it's not my fault you screwed up!” It’s the male’s turn to shout, his words intriguing Corpse.

Got caught? Screwed up what?

“Fuck you! You don’t just ditch like that! That’s such a dick move!” 

Ditched? If it wasn’t for the ‘getting caught’ part I would’ve thought it was a flopped date?

“I wasn’t about to get arrested for your klepto ass! I’m done with your shit!” The male voice takes the upper hand again, and though the female attempts to speak, she’s promptly cut off by the male, “No! No, I said I’m fucking done! Get the fuck out of my apartment!” A loud bang that sounded remarkably like a chair being flipped over made Corpse jump again with his thoughts once again racing to try and make sense of the situation. 

Klepto? So she’s a thief. Great. He rolls his eyes, not that he needed a reminder that he lives in a bad neighborhood, but he sure got it. He inhales slowly, finally deciding to check the aftermath in the hallway. Again, it isn’t his business whatsoever, but he can’t rest easy until he knows there isn’t an injured person outside his door right now. He peeks out the peephole before unlocking the door and sticking his head out to see a long haired individual still standing in front of his neighbor’s door. They have their back turned to him and are getting prepared to start banging on the door once again. 

“Little scared-ass bitch! I’ll be back for my shit!” She screams, kicking the door to punctuate her point. 

This chick is absolutely nuts. Everything in his gut is telling him to turn around and go back inside but his brain’s less-rational side is convincing him to check on her. He carefully steps into the hallway, swallowing nervously as he reaches out to tap her shoulder. “Are um-...you okay?”

The girl whips around, a furious expression on her face. Corpse makes a pause, his eyes widening at the sight of that familiar face.

Holy shit, I know this girl. 

Standing in front of him is the girl who leaped into the backseat of his car only a few days ago. 

Shit! What are the odds? 

She’s wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and a cropped sweatshirt with the quote “Mercury’s in Gatorade or Some Shit” written in bold letters and a solar system around it, with a leather jacket on top. 

His mouth dries when he makes a realization... 

Oh fuck. She’s way prettier in the natural light instead of that ugly light I saw her in that night. 

“Oh hey! Parking lot guy! What are y-...is that my choker?” She interrupts herself, looking closer at the black leather on his pale skin, her brows furrowing. He’d forgotten he was even wearing it to be honest, but she seems to recognize it. “That’s my fucking choker, dude! I’ve been looking everywhere for it!” She reaches up seemingly with the intention of taking it off him, causing his whole body to freeze up.

Finally finding his senses, Corpse takes half a step back, eyes slightly widened, “Woah, hey! Easy there, I’m pretty sure I bought this.” He warns, hands hesitantly held out in front of himself to try and create some distance between them. 

She seems not to take the hint at his desire for personal space as she reaches out again, stepping closer. “No, I made it with my own two hands, man! It’s got a C on it for my name - Cora.” She says sharply to the point of anger that honestly frightens him a bit. 

He quickly unties the leather straps, removing it from his neck. However, he refuses to give it back so easily as he holds it up out of her reach. 

Maybe if it isn’t on me she won’t be all up in his personal space. Yeah, it’s a bit evil, but he didn’t care. Besides, part of him is still mad about the fact she used his car as a hiding spot, shooting his anxiety through the roof in the process. 

“I feel like you owe me for those fries you stole last time we saw each other. Make it up to me and I’ll give it back. If it’s even yours, that is...” He says, brows furrowing slightly and eyes narrowing as he takes another step back. “And, you know, for nearly getting me busted by the police for something I wasn’t even a part of.” 

Sure, he was talking but her eyes are wandering analyzing him: first the silver chains around his neck that glimmer in the light and his dark hair, strands dangling carelessly as a curtain over his face. 

He too finds himself admiring her, memorizing her features better in this light. She has olive skin and sports a little bit of a tan. Stray locks of wavy dark brown hair hang around her ears having come loose from her messy bun. She has earthy brown eyes with flecks of green that he can’t help but stare at, despite their current sharpness. Her right arm is decorated with a few small tattoos: a skull of some sort of animal that appears to be puking flowers; a small cartoon t-rex floating via many colorful balloons and a brain with a spiky spiral in the center of it. She has a single line drawn around her pinky finger on the hand of the other arm and the shadowy silhouette of a forest around her wrist. However, the one thing Corpse could see better than all of that, was she is pissed. 

“Gimme my fucking choker back! I paid you for those fries, it’s not my fault you spent them on douchebag lessons!” She snaps, hopping to try and grab his arm. 

She is pressed up against him now, a wave of perfume hitting him when she attempts another jump. He holds the choker higher, maybe even subconsciously, just enjoying the warm presence of another body for as long as possible - not that he’d admit that. 

Corpse’s brief content comes crashing down as he stumbles backwards when he feels something hard on his hip and her hands grabbing at the front of his shirt. 

“Wait-“ He tries to say, but is cut off when a good amount of weight pulls at his jeans. “Oh Fuck!” He rasps out, dropping the choker as he slams onto the floor. In the split second he spared to take a breath, his pants had been yanked down to his knees and his neck was crooked up against his door. He’s now lying on the floor as the girl hovers over him having landed with her hand on top of his head and one leg over his chest while the other is pinning his arm down.

While remaining unmoving under the girl, he takes a moment to let the previous five seconds sink in before replaying them in his mind:

This small woman, Cora she said her name was, had put the boot clad toes of her left foot into the pocket of his baggy jeans to use as a stepping stool. In turn, they were shoved down, effectively pantsing him and tearing the pocket before knocking them both to the floor. 

Corpse leans against his door, jeans still around his knees, hair a mess as he watches Cora stand up from where she’d practically tackled him and equip the choker. 

“Serves you right.” She sticks her tongue out, tying the piece of jewelry behind her neck. “Now get up before someone calls the cops, we both know what happens then.” She rolls her eyes and bends down, offering her hands to help him up after he situated his trousers.

“Ah-um...I-...” anxiety started reigning in his chest and head as he realized everything that had happened. He takes both her hands and she uses all her weight to pull him up. Her pull was so strong that when he stood up, he had to hold her tight to keep her from falling back. He stabilizes her, maybe a little too hard because her chest collides with his. He apologizes under his breath, releasing her hands quickly. “Don’t people buy dinner first before yanking off their pants?” He snorts, trying to make light of the situation and crossing his arms over his chest. “But then again, you stole my dinner.” 

“Are you insinuating I should take off my pants?” She asks with a smirk. 

Corpse nearly chokes on his own inhale, eyes wide as he quickly looks away.

Oh my god is she serious? “N-no!” He says, perhaps too quickly. Too loudly. His cheeks turned dark pink as he gapes at her for a moment before furrowing his brows again. He hunches his shoulders a little, doing his best to avoid those sharp hazel eyes. 

She’s pretty. Way too pretty for him and now she has him all flustered. This girl has way too much power over the agoraphobic anxiety bundle that is Corpse. 

“Oh so you’re insinuating that I should buy you dinner since I took off your pants?” She prompts, eyes narrowing with a delighted little smirk on her face. She has to be enjoying watching him squirm in embarrassment, otherwise, why would she keep asking questions like that? Of course she does. She is like every other girl in his life.

“I’m..-just...Forget it.” He mumbles, shrinking back away from her as he turns to go back inside the safety of his apartment. 

She’s probably making fun of me. Great, as if I didn’t have enough self-esteem issues already.

Before he could get inside, a hand grabs his shirt at the small of his back. “Hey, I’m just fucking with you, dude.” She says, giving the shirt’s fabric a tug. 

He turns and looks at her with wary eyes, wondering if she was trying to goad him into falling for her taunting again. But the ice in her gaze has melted and she gives him a crooked smile. “Lemme buy you dinner to pay you back. It’s the least I can do after you helped keep my ass out of jail.” She releases his shirt after a brief moment of reluctance and then offers her hand to him for a handshake. “Oh, I should introduce myself, officially this time. I’m Cora.” 

Corpse looks at her hand and carefully takes it. She has small hands and his long fingers practically engulfed hers as he shakes it lightly. He gives her his name in return and she smiles that light filled, beaming smile he remembers from the car. 

“Nice to, um- meet you, I guess.” He finds himself staring at her, unknowingly still holding her hand in his until she looks up and grins a little wider. 

“This seems like a roundabout way to hold my hand, bro. You could have just asked,you know.” She teases, but this time it felt okay, his embarrassment having faded slightly, but he still hurries to look away and release his hold on her. 

Corpse murmurs a quick apology, but before he could stick his hand back into the ripped pocket of his jeans, she takes hold of it again, tugging him forward. “Come on, lock your door. I’ll buy you something to eat. You drive though.” She lets go of his hand after a moment and, much to his surprise, he catches himself missing the warmth that it provided him while it was there. Turning, he ducked into his apartment to grab his hoodie and keys, feeling suddenly thankful he’d cleaned his car out.

Taglist: @vixenl  @fockingwhore

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

Hi, I've never done this before but I was wondering of you could do a scenario where the boys (separate) meet your parents and/or family for the first time. (I love your blog btw, you make my days more enjoyable

God this ask is so freaking cute. Pardon any spelling errors/grammar mistakes cause I did this on my phone at 5:30 in the morning lmao. Also, I'm going by the ~average~ nuclear family of one mom and one dad (even if my own household isn't like that lmao)

The Lost Boys x Meeting the Parents

David

Will pretend that he doesn't care if your family likes him or not, but he actually Does™

He's not gonna change his look or anything for your parents. He just doesn't want them to be against him or to be an obstacle in any way that would prevent you from seeing him. Your parents not liking him could be a real pain in the ass, and you remind him of that right before the two of you leave. It's basically a reminder to be on his best behavior

It takes forever to actually convince him to meet them because he's kinda like- who needs parents when you're a vampire ahahaha. Plus the only parent he has to base judgement on is Max so he doesn't have high expectations.

But if your parents do like him,,,,and your dad calls him son? Oh god daddy issues have been activated

Your dad put a hand on his shoulder and complimented his hair what do you mean he can't move in???? (If you tell the others they will make jokes that David wants to fuck your dad I'm sorry)

David is a little bit more wary of your mom, but he's still nicer to her than he would be to Max. Basically, David just tones down being a dick and that's it. He's a pretty charming guy when he wants to be so he'd probably 8/10 get your parents approval. Especially if David keeps up the whole "gentleman" thing since he's from like the late 1800s.

Will most likely end up on a first name basis with your parents by the end of the night

Dwayne

He thinks meeting the parents is important, not because he wants their approval, but because it's a big step in the relationship. It's just solidifying what you currently have and Dwayne is cool with that

Didn't really take much convincing. You just invited him to dinner one night and he just goes "Cool."

Harder to convince him to wear a shirt though. This will take forever, rip your parents but Dwayne likes having his tiddies out. Best you can do is get him to wear a wife beater that shows just a little bit too much side-boob y'know the ones I'm talking about

Dwayne just had a way,,,with parents. He starts off very polite with a, "Hello Mr and Mrs. _____" and you stand to the side as your parents welcome him in like he's always been there. It's been five minutes and your mom is already insisting on him calling her by her first name. He's not a talker but he does put in a little bit more effort around your folks. Doesn't really matter either way though cause your parents already love him

You pull him aside to ask him if he pulled any mind tricks on them but he's just like, "Nah."

Moms love Dwayne. I'm sorry but they do. He eats a lot and he's not picky so once he's cleared his second plate your mom is just fawning over how he's a "big growing boy" and even if Dwayne hasn't aged a day in like nearly a century he still plays into it. Your dad will ask him questions and the two of them talk about Car Stuff™

Dwayne will 10/10 steal your parents sorry I don't make the rules they're his parents now

Marko

Has absolutely no will or desire to meet your parents I'm sorry. Will probably avoid the meeting for as long as possible. It's not until you're genuinely starting to get pissed at him that he'll groan for a solid minute before saying, "Fine. Fucking fine."

Marko will Not™ change for the meeting. The crop top stays on. So do the leather chaps. It's not dinner attire but Marko makes a point to not changr

Marko acts this way because he's the most androgynous and he's the least likely to be accepted by 80s standards rip. He's just prepping to be hated, even if you swear that your parents won't be assholes

Marko is welcomed into your home and is,,,,, uncomfortable. He tries to make small talk but it's hard to filter out all the curse words he says on a daily basis. He's the second quietest of the boys, so he just clams up whenever he feels like he's making an ass out of himself. Is mostly just overthinking so rip this vampire

Even if your parents like him, it's hard for him to accept that. He just assumes that they won't because he's grown used to Max for like the past century. Is weirdly??? Liked by one parent??? And not the other??? (Most likely your dad because Masculinity™)

May not be popular with your parents but if you have any pets- ohhoHO

Will lay on the floor with a furry friend or will stare inside the cage of your family pet. Marko may not be good with parents but he just Gets™ animals

Solid 7/10 of whether or not your parents like him cause they just think that he's "interesting", but will 10/10 steal your dogs love and affection

Paul

Most excited to meet your parents and will meet them the earliest out of all the boys

There's no convincing him to change any aspect of his outfit, even the mesh shirt so- don't even ask because Paul will just find a way to turn it into flirting ("trying to get me out of my clothes, babe?")

Honestly, you're gonna have to warn your parents more than you're gonna have to warn Paul

Paul is the type to immediately call your parents mom and dad. Like, they open the door and he hugs both of them like they're his very own parents. Is just as affectionate with your parents as he is with everyone else i.e. kisses your mom's cheek and gives your dad friendly pats on the back. Let's just say your parents are,,,,Bewildered™ but oddly charmed

Paul is like a walking tornado and let's just say that, while Paul is very friendly, your parents aren't super impressed by how "lax" he is. Basically, Paul screams sex, drugs, and rock and roll and this was the 80s parents worst nightmare

He somehow eats three plates of food and your parents are just in a constant state of confusion. Paul is as polite as he can be and thanks your mom, might even offer to help wash the dishes, and has started to affectionately call your dad "pops" before the night is over

Paul thinks the night went great and really likes your parents but there's a 5/10 chance that they actually like him back. Paul promises to come back soon and somehow you know he isn't kidding

[khaleesiofalicante]

Yeah, here I am once again. Appearing after the chaos I created 😂 but OMG WE HAVE ONLY ONE CHAPTER LEFT?? AND THEN THERE COMES THE ANGST?? I'M READY😎

I'm glad to inform you I finished the homework and I have only two assignments and two exams left that I will today :)) It was like:

Me: Maybe I should do this tomorrow??

Brain: But what about Dani?? And the chapter??

Me: Fuck, you are right, I need to do this :(

But anyways, here I am:

"He had been woken up by music, by love, by violence and by nightmares. And out of all those times, out of all those centuries, this was easily his favourite way to wake up." just the beginning and I'm having lots of feels🥺🥺

“Happy anniversary,” Magnus grinned against the other man’s mouth. “Happy anniversary,” Alec whispered. Fifteen years.Fifteen years since Alec Lightwood loved one man so much that he had changed the world for him." 15 YEARS? HRJWKDJDJ LOVE THEM💙

"Magnus understood why his son was acting all over the place. The boy was supposed to take up the position of Consul after Alec" *singing "Oh baby, no baby, you got it all wrong baby" *

"Next thing he knew, Alec was on top of him. His mouth was on Magnus. Where, exactly, Magnus didn’t notice – or care. He liked Alec everywhere." OH WELL, THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY! 😏

"Not the kind of banging he had hoped to start the day with to be honest." OH god😂😂 I love this man. He is the bane of my existence!” (I just-  The puns are killing me 😂)

“It might be karma, darling,”  (He got a point. Karma is a bitch)

“Since when do you have a problem with excessive glitter?” (Yeah Alec, Your excuses are getting worst 😂)

"You better do it, or I will tell everyone about your secret" YOU LITTLE SHIT!

"That child is the reincarnation of Christopher Lightwood!” 😂😂 i literally scared my dog cause I laughed so hard!!

"There were whispers and rumours all over the shadow world that Angel Raziel had given up on Alec’s Clave." OH THE FUCK NO!! I SWEAR I WILL THROW SOME HANDS AT HEAVEN!! "Because if Magnus found out Raziel was the one causing all this pain for Alec, he would march up to heaven and set the bastard on fire himself." FUCK YEAH. I'M COMING WITH YOU!! 🔪 🔪

“Livia Blackthorn had been listening through the Idris wards to gather pieces of information that might be crucial for Alec’s Council.” I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT WAS LIVVY!!

Selena is Ragnor’s favorite!!! I LOVE IT

“The shadowhunter was a good influence on him. Magnus hoped Alec would see it sooner rather than later.”😂😂 You love him Alec and you know it!!

“She walked over to Magnus and hugged him tightly. And he sensed it immediately. The second heartbeat.” What?? WHAT??? I ALMOST SCREAMED. OMG. OMG

“Magnus stared at the necklace. The necklace he had bought in the 19th century for Camille. The necklace that had ended up in the hands of Will Herondale and then his sister. The necklace that had belonged to the Lightwood family for generations.” OMG SHE IS GIVING HIM THE LIGHTWOOD NECKLACE!!! THAT THING LITERALLY COMPLETE THE CIRCLE. BELONGED TO MAGNUS, CAMILLE, WILL, CECILY, ALL THE LIGHTWOODS AND THE MAGNU’S SON!!

I'm freaking out now because Izzy doesn't know??? Or maybe she does???And it's waiting to tell them?? I feel like a worried parent!!!

“But he knew it was all part of growing up. He would never pressure them to talk about their feelings or force them to make themselves vulnerable. All he could do was be there for them when they were ready to let it all out. “Do you want to tell me about it?” Magnus asked. He tried. Just in case.” What do I see here? Parenting doing right💙💙

“If you want love, you must be willing to accept the vulnerability that comes with it.” I just. This man gives the best advice ever!!

“I’ll try,” Rafael promised. “I don’t like lying.” “I know,” Magnus smiled. “So much like your dad.” But Alec did lie though. Magnus pushed the thought away. (Why is this such a rollercoaster??)

“His children were so much like his husband that sometimes it made Magnus wonder if they needed him at all. It was a ridiculous thought of course. But it stilled swam around his head. Sometimes a part of him thought it would be better if Alec had been the one to stay back and Magnus was the one to leave. The kids would be better off with Alec, his mind said. He always knew what to do with them.” IT'S NOT OK TO MAKE ME CRY WHEN I HAVE AN EXAM IN 3 MINUTES!!

Back from my exam 😂😂 And don’t worry. Just got one mistake :))

“Max of course was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans. His regular look. But just below the pearl necklace wrapped around his neck was the Lightwood necklace.” YES. MAX WEARING THE LIGHTWOOD NECKLACE!!

“Alec walked out of their bedroom a moment later, and Magnus quite literally felt his heart stutter. Fifteen years. Fifteen years of loving and Alec still made his heart stutter.” They are the reason I believe in love💙💙

“If Magnus wasn’t wrong, he could see the thin layer of kohl under Alec’s blue eyes. Alec rarely enjoyed wearing makeup. But he rarely enjoyed saying no to children too. Magnus threw Rafael a grateful smile and the boy winked back.” Magnus and Rafael getting Alec to wear makeup is my will to live 😂😂

“The words died on Alec’s lips when his eyes fell on Magnus. The man sighed as he stared at Magnus. Fifteen years. Fifteen years and Magnus still took Alec’s breath away.” Jagcydwjendieu I’m emo

What?” Magnus asked coyly. “Is it too much?” “You know damn well it’s not,” Alec hissed and pulled Magnus towards him. “You look perfect. How do you look so perfect?” “Because I am standing next to you,” Magnus smiled.( They bad/perfect flirting it's just *chef kiss*)

“Bapak is a good looking one in the family,” Rafael pointed out. “You are the chaotic one and I am the smart one.” “What am I then?” Alec asked dryly. “A sack of potatoes?” “You’re the sexy one,” Magnus grinned. “A sexy sack of potatoes.” (THAT FAMILY IS KILLING ME IN THE GOOD WAY💙💙)

Magnus nudged Rafael on the back. The boy sighed and walked to his brother. “Come,” he took Max’s hand and led him to his bedroom. “Let’s find you something nice to wear, okay?” Max mumbled again but followed Rafael anyway. (I just can’t with all the love this family has!!!)

“Nope,” Alec said. “They are stuck with me.” “And you’re stuck with me,” Magnus replied. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else, Magnus,” Alec randomly speaks poetry… And he says he is not good with words??

“Selena was wearing a blue crop top with the words “MIND YOUR OWN UTEREUS” written in gold. David was in a simple sky-blue t-shirt, the colour of Max’s magic.” OK BUT THEM?? THEY’RE BEAUTIFUL

“Max hadn't changed his clothes. But he was wearing a blue leather jacket that belonged to Rafael. He looked happy about it.” I said it once and I will say it again. They are the definition of siblings

NO!! IT'S TIME FOR THE TOAST. I’M GOING TO CRY!!

"To Alec and Magnus - for being themselves and inspiring everyone else to do the same." CHEERS TO THAT BRO!!

“Isabelle,” Magnus called gently. “Let’s go easy on the champagne tonight, yes?” YES IZZY. I’M WORRIED ABOUT YOU AND YOU NEED TO REST AND BE PROTECTED OK? OK

“The argument of “who gave the best gift” had started when Jace and Izzy had gotten drunk on vodka. It didn’t help that Alec had gotten drunk as well. All three Lightwood siblings had then proceeded to have an argument about who had the best spouse. The whole night had been drunken chaos. “

“So, Magnus had let his husband be that 18-year-old boy again. The boy who got drunk and fought with his siblings and sang songs about Magnus’ pretty eyes” 💙💙💙💙 This is just to pure

Ok, I feel like this is the chapter of the snippet from a long time ago. The one of Alec and Magnus in the closet while Mavid were talking, but I’m not sure

Why couldn’t this boy just cause chaos during his travel year like the rest of them? Why did he actually study and do his research as recommended?😂😂LMAOO

“Magnus didn’t know why. But the room suddenly felt rather hot. Poor David noticed his discomfort and came to his rescue. But unfortunately, the rescue attempt only made it worse” David, I love you with all my entire heart, but seriously??

DANI, NO! We have already been through this!! I have trauma out of this!!

OK, ok. It could have been worst

“But the time for talking was done. They were living it now.” I SWEAR I’M NOT CRYING!!

“Afraid of what?” Magnus asked. “I’m afraid you won’t find me attractive,” Alec said so quietly that Magnus barely heard it (MY HEART!!)

“But death is so much better than this. It’s so much better than waiting for the day you look at me and I no longer see that spark in your eyes.” THIS. THIS WAS THE DEAD OF ME

Fuck, i have an exam in 5 minutes and now I’m crying

Finally out of the exam 😂 This teacher literally asks us a question from the guidebook and if it's not 100% what it said there, then we fail

But going back to this HOLY SHIT I LOVE MAGNUS!!

“Did something say something to you?” Jace demanded, standing up angrily. “Because I swear by the angel-” “Nobody said anything, Jace!” Alec rolled his eyes. “I own a mirror!” “And is this mirror broken or something?” Isabelle asked incredulously. “Alec, honestly!” (I BELIEVE IN LIGHTWOOD SIBLINGS SUPREMACY!!)

“Yeah, man!” Simon nodded. “You are objectively good looking.” “Objectively good looking?” Jace snorted. “Excuse you, but my parabatai is smoking hot! He is a freaking prize, okay? If we had a magazine for hot shadowhunters, you would be on the cover page. Every single issue.” “Okay, that’s enough!” Alec interrupted. “Magnus, are you happy? Now all my friends have told me I am pretty.” “I said smoking hot,” Jace corrected. (*Sighs* I fucking love parabatai)

“Dad, I don’t know why you are so worried,” Max said in a bored tone. “You’re a total DILF.” David choked on his champagne and Jace patted him on the back. I’m dying jajdhuwejdjkew😂😂

“It means Dashing and Irresistible Looking Father” Singing again *Oh baby, no baby, you got it all wrong baby* Idk when this turned from Alec feeling self conscious to Thirsting Over Alec Lightwood-Bane but I’m here for it. Seriously. My mom is in front of me. She thinks and doing homework. And I’m just trying to keep a straight face (so hard) This is not working. I’m about to scream😂😂

2I can’t understand how you could look at yourself and not see what I see.”

“They stared at the picture on Max’s wall. The picture of Max and Rafael grinning ear to ear when they had visited Peru to piss Magnus off.” THOSE LIL SHITS!

tiEvery me they call each other baby my skin clears and i have three more years of life

“No,” Magnus managed a smile. “Sometimes things are just sad. So, you need to let yourself be sad.” 💙💙

“It’s Max!” Alec said. “We have to hide!" “Hide? This is our home!” (OH BOY😂😂)

I KNEW THIS WAS GOING TO HAVE THE SCENE!! “When I die, I will love you from my grave,” David said now. “I will love you from heaven.” WHY DO THEY ALL SPEAK POETRY?

Don’t let him go, Magnus whispered to Max inside his heart. Don’t ever let him get away.” MAVID IS JUST SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL!

“He wondered how strong a person must be to not give up on guardian angels and the idea of heaven after being dragged through hell by his demon of a father.” My boy is strong af

“I don’t believe in angels or heaven,” Alec said then. “But I feel blessed to be loved by you too.” Magnus smiled against Alec’s neck. “Stop stealing David’s dialogues.”💙💙 I have said this to much but I love them

“For the rest of the night, they danced and laughed and drank and smiled. Of course, there was the sadness of time hanging over their heads. But they ignored it. They focused on the love in front of them.” These lines are just amazing

“And sorry,” David said quickly. “I apologize if I said something out of turn before. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble-” BOY COULD YOU STOP BEING PERFECT??

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think it matters who you brought the necklace for,” David said, his blue eyes on Magnus. “Everything you do is out of love, Mr. Lightwood-Bane. And I think that’s beautiful.” EVEN MAGNUS STAY SPEECHLESS!!

“That’s not what I meant,” Jace shook his head. “David and Max. A shadowhunter and a warlock. They are together. They are happy. That’s cause of you, Alec. You and Magnus did that.” Magnus smiled at this husband. “Listen to your parabatai. He gets wise so very rarely.” YES THEY DID. I’M SO FUCKING PROUD!

“But he did it now. For Alec. Because Alexander Lightwood always has been and always will be his only exception.” The Malec feelings I’m getting from this are to much

“Magnus smiled. “How do I look?” “Immaculate,” Alec whispered. In the mirror, Magnus could see himself. His dark hair was woven with strands of gray. He had wrinkles on his face, just around the eyes. When Magnus smiled, his eyes crinkled.” OMG OMG!! I’M CRYING

“Magnus took Alec’s hand in his and put it over his heart. “Promise me you will stop smoking.” THANK YOU MAGNUS. LITERALLY THANK YOU!!

“I don’t care how they look at me. I care how you look at me," Alec smiled softly. "Because I only ever look back at you, Magnus.” Alec says these things like they aren’t worth a museum

I would never tell you what to do with your body, Alexander. But-” “Well, you tell me sometimes,” Alec snickered against his mouth. “Stop making jokes to avoid serious conversations,” Magnus slapped his husband on the arm. “That’s my thing.”😂😂

“Magnus stayed awake that night. He stayed awake and told his brain to cherish every single memory from tonight. That’s how Magnus spent every night. He would stay awake and ask his mind to remember.” THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND ACCURATE I ACTUALLY FORGET ITS NOT CANON

“And then he dreamt.In his dream, he saw them again. But they weren’t smiling this time.” :) Seriously?? SERIOUSLY? I’M SO DONE, YET I’M STILL HERE??

Ugh this was so beautiful i just can- I closed Tumblr so I didn’t get spoiled 😂 Amazing as always and I’m just going to have Malec feels for the rest of the day.

P.s. I was listening to One Last Time by LP and got even more emo 💙💙

This whole thing me so emo wtf 😭😭😭

I love your reactions so much 🥺🥺🥺

Also you reading fanfiction minutes before the exam is such a big dick move istg never change bro 😎

[trilliastra]

[much fluff with a dash of angst, but mostly jin ling coping with being a sect leader and his uncles being there for him. jin ling & jiang cheng & wei wuxian.]

-

Jin Ling has been a Sect Leader for exactly four months and eighteen days when the letter arrives.

Sect Leader Yao wishes to invite you and…

Jin Ling rolls his eyes. It’s always an invitation for dinner or a ‘sumptuous trip to try our most beloved meals’ and it always ends with Jin Ling visiting their crops and listening to hours upon hours of a speech about the advantages of having Sect Leader Yao as ally and biggest business partner.

Jin Ling always leaves with a headache and the certainty that not even the finest crops in the world are worth enduring that old hag’s voice for days.

He’s wondering if he could get away with ‘accidentally’ dropping the letter in the fire when the word ‘marriage’ catches his attention.

Dread spreads through his body. His uncle has warned him about this, lectured Jin Ling about taking his time, being careful around pretty ladies, but he thought he had more time! He’s still sixteen, why would he want to marry anyone right now?

He keeps reading, curiosity getting the best of him, and then he realizes, Sect Leader Yao is proposing an alliance through marriage, but not with Jin Ling.

With his uncle.

-

Jin Ling does not mention the letter to his uncle. He does not think that would end well for him or Sect Leader Yao, and though Jin Ling would not mind if the old man was accidentally pushed into a pit so deep he could never escape – it would save him so much time and tears of frustration – he does not want his uncle to start a war. One murderous uncle is enough, thank you.

So Jin Ling does the next best thing and throws the letter into the fire, pretends it never happened and leaves Sect Leader Yao to deal with it alone.

That’s not the end of it, though. Of course not. Jin Ling could not be that lucky.

The second letter comes the next week, and by the time the twelfth letter arrives, Jin Ling is just about ready to start a war himself, so when Wei Wuxian shows up unannounced, he cannot be blamed for throwing a whole jar of wine on his head.

Wei Wuxian’s entire bright demeanour is particularly annoying when Jin Ling has been experiencing a headache for the past – what, month?

“You look stressed.” Wei Wuxian points out, wiping the wine off his face with the sleeve of his robe (‘such a waste’, he had said, but instead of leaving as Jin Ling had hoped, he simply collapsed on a chair and grinned, ugh).

“The letter just won’t stop!” He grits out, angry, throwing the closest letter – from Ouyang Zizhen’s father of all people, apparently, he has two daughters that would be just ‘perfect’ for Jin Ling’s uncle – towards Wei Wuxian.

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian laughs hysterically for a good minute while Jin Ling stares, unamused, “I did not think Jiang Cheng would be this disputed.”

Jin Ling tries not to take offense on that, but the words come out of his mouth before he can hold them back, years of having to defend his uncle from other disciples getting the best of him. “He would be a great husband!” Jin Ling argues. “If he wants to!”

Wei Wuxian raises his hands, placating, but he still has that knowing smirk on his face. “I know.” He says, softer this time. “He always liked to pretend to be cold and angry, but we knew-” Jin Ling feels a shiver run down his spine at the mention of his mother so casually. His uncle talked about her, told him stories about his parents, but he never looked at ease while doing it, his eyes always trying to hide the pain, “Jiang Cheng is especially warm inside, he takes criticism to heart and he hurts just as easily, just as deeply. Maybe even more than the rest of us.” Wei Wuxian gets a distracted look on his face, lost in thoughts and memories that Jin Ling knows he will never understand, does not know if he even wants to.

The pain and the heartbreak that molded his uncle while he was growing up, Jin Ling has long understood that it came from years of self-doubt and self-loathing.

‘I am proud of you, it does not matter what happens, who you are, what you do, I am proud of you’, Jin Ling heard those words more than once as he grew up, his uncle wiping his tears of frustration and anger when he failed at hitting the targets with his arrows, lost a fight with one of the older disciples. He did not think much of it at the time, but after the temple, after hearing the pain in his uncle’s voice while arguing with Wei Wuxian, the pain of being left alone – Jin Ling understood that those were words his uncle wishes someone had told him.

“I know.” Jin Ling says, softly, before looking down at the pile of letters still on his desk. He lets out another groan of frustration. “But why me?” He cries out while Wei Wuxian starts giggling again. “They should send these to him!”

“Oh, my dear A-Ling.” Wei Wuxian says, taking deep breaths to control his laughter. “They want your help.”

-

“No, no.” Jin Ling groans, pacing around the room. Wei Wuxian watches him patiently, drinking from a new jar of wine one of Jin Ling’s servants brought. “I will not be Jiujiu’s matchmaker! I have other things to do! Did you know there are rumours of a ghost terrorizing a village? At least twenty families have arrived to Lanling yesterday, I do not have time to help Sect Leader Yao se – seduce Jiujiu!”

Wei Wuxian – proving to be just as useless as Jin Ling had thought – snorts and reaches out for another jar of wine. “You are pathetic.” Jin Ling points out, rolling his eyes when Wei Wuxian merely shrugs.

“You are the Sect Leader.”

“I know!” Jin Ling cries out, throwing his arms up in frustration. To his horror, he feels himself starting to tear up.

He hates crying, even more in front of others. He knows he does it a lot, he’s always been a crier, but he is, as Wei Wuxian pointed out, a Sect Leader now. He cannot just burst into tears every time he feels tired or sad or—overwhelmed.

“Jin Ling—” Wei Wuxian starts, softly, but a knock on the door stops him.

“Sect Leader,” his secretary calls, sounding panicked, and though Jin Ling wants to tell him to leave, he takes a deep breath and orders him in, “you have a visitor.” He announces.

“Who-” Jin Ling tries to ask, but the door flies open before he can finish and soon enough his uncle is stalking into his office.

If it weren’t for the secretary still watching them, Jin Ling would have dropped everything and ran into his uncle’s arms, crying as if he were five years old again.

-

“You do not have time to write,” his uncle accuses as soon as the door closes behind Jin Ling’s secretary, “but you have time to chat with him.” The tone is not as cold as it used to be and Wei Wuxian offers him a wave and a teasing grin instead of flinching like he also used to do.

“I did not invite him,” Jin Ling turns around, scrambling to wipe his tears. It has been a rough couple of days, emotion got the best of him, “he just showed up and now he refuses to leave.”

“Not fair!” Wei Wuxian cries out, pretends to be wiping a tear while his eyes shine with mischief. Jin Ling’s uncle rolls his eyes, expression so soft Jin Ling feels himself tearing up again.

His uncle deserves so much more than an arranged marriage.

“A-Ling.” Jin Ling looks up, finds both his uncle and Wei Wuxian looking at him with concern. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing.” He shouts, starts rearranging the papers on his desk as to have something to do with his hands, something to distract him from all these emotions, the tiredness, the overwhelming happiness of having his family with him after all this time where he forced himself to be strong, to deal with everything alone, to—

“A-Ling.” Jin Ling feels a hand on his shoulder, strong and careful and loving.

“Jiujiu,” Jin Ling sniffs, suddenly so exhausted he feels his legs giving out. He is quickly supported by his uncle and Wei Wuxian, “I do not want you to get married to Ouyang Zizhen’s sister.”

“What?” he asks, helping Jin Ling to the chair and kneeling in front of him. He runs a hand through Jin Ling’s hair, touches his cheek softly. “What are you talking about?”

“You should marry for love.” He whispers, weakly, and then – nothing.

-

When Jin Ling was a child, he used to have nightmares about losing two faceless people, a woman he would call mother and a man he would call father. He’d wake up, shaking, heart beating fast, and immediately run to his uncle’s room.

He would also have dreams where his uncle died, but those never seemed so scary because once Jin Ling woke up, he knew it would never happen. His uncle would never leave him.

That certainty never wavered, not once, even when Jin Ling was in Lanling, even when his uncle got hurt fighting Su She, his uncle would never leave him.

But as soon as Jin Guangyao died, as soon as Jin Ling was pronounced Sect Leader, as soon as his uncle left to Lotus Pier, Jin Ling realized it was time he let his uncle go.

-

The faceless woman in his dream is different this time. She’s holding one end of a rope while the other end is tied around Jin Ling’s neck and when he tries to run, she holds him back, the knot so tight Jin Ling feels himself suffocating, unable to scream, to call for help.

From afar he sees his uncle burning, fire surrounding him as he shouts, one hand stretched out in front of him, reaching out for Jin Ling while the woman drags him away from his uncle, farther and farther. And while his uncle burns, Jin Ling chokes.

-

He startles awake, gasping for air as his hands search for the rope around his neck, a rope that isn’t there anymore.

“A-Ling.” His uncle calls. When Jin Ling looks at his worried face, he collapses against his chest, relieved. “Breathe,” he whispers, pulling Jin Ling closer to him, one hand on the back of his neck, comforting, “I am here.”

“Jiujiu,” Jin Ling sobs, holding his uncle’s robes tightly. He should not be acting like this anymore, he should not behave as a child, he is not – he is a Sect Leader now, he needs to be strong. Ashamed, he sobs harder, hides his face in his uncle’s chest, “I am sorry, I should not –”

“Stop.” His uncle orders. “I should be the one apologizing. You were not ready for –”

“You were a year older than me when you became a Sect Leader!” Jin Ling protests. All the things his uncle did when he was younger, the war, the people he lost.

“I was not ready either.” His uncles confesses. Jin Ling pulls back, surprised. “I had no other choice, A-Ling, but you – you have me and your friends and – Wei Wuxian, I suppose,” he adds, rolling his eyes, and Jin Ling, despite himself, smiles.

He notices Wei Wuxian by the door, arms crossed in front of himself, eyes shining with tears, Jin Ling imagines, of regret for years lost, bonds broken.

“I will try to visit more often.” Jin Ling’s uncle promises. “And if you do not write back,” he threatens, “I will drag you back to Lotus Pier and feed you to the water spirits.”

Jin Ling blinks. “I am a Sect Leader.”

“I don’t care. Learn when to ask for help, brat, and answer to your uncle’s letters.”

“My, my, A-Ling,” Wei Wuxian says for the first time, eyes still wet, smile brighter than before, “it seems your uncle was lonely.”

“Wei Wuxian.” Jin Ling’s uncle growls, reaching out for a pillow and throwing at Wei Wuxian’s beaming face. The other man ducks away easily, cackling.

This is how his uncle’s life must have been before. He was not ready to become a Sect Leader then, but most of all, he was not ready to lose his entire family.

“Jiujiu,” Jin Ling takes his hand, “do you wish to get married?”

His uncle furrows his brows, confused. “This again?” He glances at Wei Wuxian, then back at Jin Ling. He sighs. “Maybe one day.” He says. “But that is not important right now.”

“It is important!” Jin Ling argues. “I want you to be happy!”

“Marrying one of the Ouyang girls won’t make him happy.” Wei Wuxian says, pulling a chair to sit on the other side of Jin Ling’s bed.

“You are married to Hanguang-jun!” Jin Ling points out.

“Because I love him.” He answers and Jin Ling is relieved he doesn’t go on a rant about Hanguang-jun’s eyes or something, it has happened before. It was disgusting. “Jiang Cheng should marry someone for love.”

They both turn to look at his uncle and Jin Ling’s eyes widen when he sees him blush. Does that mean–

“Enough with this.” Jin Ling’s uncle says, forcing him to lie back, fluffing the pillows around him. “I will deal with the letters.”

Jin Ling sighs, relived, as his eyes start to drop shut. “Do not start a war.” Both his uncles snort.

“I promise.” He whispers and Jin Ling falls asleep surrounded by his family.

[munsontm]

∗ 26﹕ sender  lights  receiver’s  [ cigarette / joint ] . — steeeeve

Spending an evening at Skull Rock used to be Eddie's idea of a rocking time. What evil devil-worshipping, cult-leading, murdering son of a bitch, wouldn't love that? Yeah, before that part of his life came at him like a wild freight train. He used to like hanging out at Skull Rock with the guys; they'd drink, smoke, laugh and tell the shittest ghost stories known to man while listening to the latest cassette that someone had brought along with them. But those days seemed like years ago, another life even. The rock had become a bad omen since then, a memory of the moment before his known reality turned into something else, a nightmare.

Eddie kept the dark thoughts to himself while spending time with new friends at the cursed place. Why ruin it for everyone else? He brought up his castle walls and played the king---the joker, more like, but a role he played well nonetheless. If he could keep everyone else happy, there would be less speculation about himself. Because this new group Eddie had found a place in, all seemed to have a sixth sense about when people were feeling like shit. Honestly, it was pretty scary to feel so exposed and known. Robin, in particular, saw through him like tissue paper, so he kept her well entertained with stories and musical serenades while the weed and beer went around.

But a good thing never lasted very long in Eddie Munson's world. It came out of nowhere like it always did, a tightness in his chest, and during Byer's recollection of a much-needed vacation, he and Nancy took after the whole Vecna shenanigans. It was a sweet story, not one for the cynical-hearted, though. The crushing sensation turned into rock closing in on him, no one else, just him. His body felt stiff and sluggish, and his mind was all over the place, his lungs failing to draw breath. Eddie desperately wanted to put it down to smoking one too many joints but knew that was a huge fucking lie, and if he didn't get away from the stupid shitting rock soon, everyone would realise it. He hated Hawkins so much.

"G--Gotta piss!" Forcing his body to move, he bustled quickly past Robin and Steve in his stupid yellow sweater, oblivious to a sea of concerned faces left behind in the Sesame Street style friend circle. It sounded convincing enough to Eddie as he skidded down the hill to a thicket of trees some distance away. Once there, and with his back pressed to a tree. He slid to the ground, not even caring when bark tore the skin beneath his Metallica crop top; at least he could feel something outside the disconnect from his surroundings, even if it was pain. For once, the pain was good.

Too busy trying to shove air back into his lungs, the bastards refused to cooperate, though. Eddie didn't realise he suddenly had company until a familiar shade of sunshine yellow filled his tunnel vision, batting the near darkness away. A gentle hand fell on his cold back, rubbing in soothing circles. Stupid Steve always gotta play the white knight, which apparently extended to saving jokers from their own pathetic selves. Steve said something to him, but he couldn't determine what. The drums thundered in his ears too loudly, and the breath in his throat turned too violent to stand. Images flashed before Eddie's eyes, his mother and father, his father with the belt in hand, being taken away from his home, pills, booze, lust-filled bodies that meant nothing to him, Chrissy Cunningham, Vecna, the Upside Down, his father in place of Vecna. He wanted to scream, yet nothing came out. He didn't know how to make it stop.

"Eddie!"

Stupid Steve, stupid Steve Fucking Harrington was screaming in his face, those warm, calloused hands cradling his face like a precious gem. Slowly but surely, the soft voice of King Steve started to pierce through the veil that kept Eddie from him. Breathe in, one, two, three. Then, breathe out, one, two, three, over and over again. Steve didn't look away from him once.

How long did it go on? Eddie wasn't exactly keeping count; he just wanted to feel like him again. It felt like hours went by before he could move his limbs again, and his lungs got some sweet freaking air into them. Finally, he collapsed back against the tree trunk, exhausted, hands running nervously through his wild hair. "T---Thanks," doe-eyes landed on Steve, wide and very much still alive. Against any better nature, he fumbled for the box of cigarettes in his pockets, pushing one of the white sticks between plush lips. But when he went to light the damned thing, his fingers shook, and the zippo fell into a patch of dry leaves. "So stupid," the familiar mantra went with a heaved sigh.

Before Eddie could reach for the zippo a second time, Steve beat him to it. He shuffled closer in his Big Bird sweater, flicking the black metal lid up cool as a cucumber, and the night lit up. "Thanks...again," Eddie said, leaning forward into Steve's space while lighting his cigarette, their eyes drawn to one another over the flame. "I owe you big time." The unusually sheepish tone felt out of place on his tongue, but the smoke quickly made him forget about it. That, and Steve staring at him as if Eddie might fall back under at any moment. "I'll be fine. You can quit doing your mother hen schtick on me now." Of course, that didn't stop Steve. What did? Nothing if memory served correct. The White Knight always prevailed, and right then, he couldn't be irritated by that side of Steve Harrington.

@harringtontm

[sasarahsunshine]

Vampire Omega Reid gets pregnant by another Vampire {it was a drunken one night stand} and his pack are very protective of him. He has a big belly during his bat form and Hotch let's him sleep in his mug since he couldn't fit in a cup due to his big belly.

I am seeing a common theme with some of my asks recently, and that's that we all love the idea of a pregnant Spencer <3

Didn't mean for this to turn into a whole freaking blurb but here we go! Standard 18+ just in case. Hotchreid cause I can. TW: Mpreg, depression, anxiety, A/B/O adjacent Vampire stuff. Enjoy!

-----

Spencer Reid should know better. Spencer Reid- Doctor Spencer Reid- is smart enough (a literal genius) to know better. Condoms break. One-night stands end without numbers exchanged or real names learned. He should have known better.

He didn't mean for this. He didn't want this.

He doesn't even know who the father is. No name, no number, nothing but blurry barely-there memories of a handsome Alpha who charmed him into his bed. Fuck.

He debates on getting rid of it: the fetus, the bundle of cells that don't even have a heartbeat yet. But when he's sitting on the dingy motel room bed, the hard mattress under his crossed legs as he stares at the positive pregnancy test he's been carrying in his bag for the past week, he realizes he can't do that. Not because he's scared (he's not scared, he's a freaking FBI agent! He's not scared, no sir), but because... well maybe he's a little scared.

And these feelings of indecision, of fear, shame, embarrassment, depression- they keep cropping up as the weeks pass by. He cries himself to sleep most nights, clutching his pillow to his chest, hiding his face in the blankets, and wondering how did this happen?

It's when he's about three months along (12 weeks, his mind supplies) that someone else seems to finally notice. Not that he wasn't acting totally weird and out-of-the-ordinary for himself anyways, getting cornered by everyone at least once as they drilled him.

"What's wrong, Spence?"

"Hey, Pretty Boy, what's on your mind?"

"Reid, if there's anything going on you know you can tell me."

"Hey kiddo, we're all a little worried about you."

"My baby genius, you're not doing the talking thing. What's wrong?"

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

He managed to avoid them until now, though he wasn't sure why he was avoiding them. It wasn't like he could keep his pregnancy a secret forever. Because, logically, they would have noticed the serious drop in caffeine intake, the increased hunger, nausea, and finally, the eventual weight gain. It didn't take a genius to put two-and-two together.

It was about time when the whole team (sans Garcia) managed to corner him on the jet. He had almost nodded off, his chin resting in his hand, eyes slipping closed as the rumble of the engines lulled him to sleep, when the couch dipped and shifted beside him. He peeked open his eyes to see a very concerned-looking JJ. Right behind her were Derek and Emily, the two of them standing in such a way that blocked him in. No escape.

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

"Spence," JJ started, her eyes filled to the brim with sympathy and concern, shimmering in the low light of the cabin. Her hand reached out and took his, squeezing it, "Please tell us what's going on."

And the damn floodgates opened.

Stupid hormones.

Spencer's shoulders trembled, his lower lip quivering as he tried to rein in his emotions to no avail. Tears slipped from his eyes as he looked between his team members. He could hear Rossi and Hotch approaching, the two older Alphas making sure to keep enough distance as to not frighten the already spooked and emotional Omega (which Spencer was grateful for, even though the sudden urge to be held by a certain Alpha was overwhelming).

JJ leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Her instincts were on high alert, fingers carding through his hair in a calming manner, a rumble escaping her chest to ease him. And he just sobbed, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

Honestly, the first clue should have been how he had pulled away from everyone. Omega Vampires need to feed from Alphas to get the nutrients they need (especially when pregnant), so when Spencer stopped going to Hotch and Derek for his regular feedings, they should have known.

Maybe they did.

He just didn't want them to scent the change in his hormones. The Alphas would have known right away if they got close enough.

He could feel Hotch's eyes on him from across the aisle. And he knew that there would be a lot of explaining to do.

But telling his boss, "I slept with another Alpha that I met at the bar because he looked like you, and now I'm pregnant," wasn't exactly something he looked forward to.

~

Thankfully, Spencer never had to explain himself. Nobody pushed. Everyone gave him his space to speak as much, or as little, as he needed to on the matter. Derek did offer to find the Alpha who knocked him up ("I just want to talk to him, Pretty Boy."), but Spencer just shook his head.

And as the weeks stretched on, his pregnancy becoming more and more noticeable by the day, he was finding himself feeling... odd. Still ashamed, still upset that it happened at all. But also kind of excited.

Garcia was obsessively flittering about him every chance she got. She bought way too many baby items, not that Spencer could really complain. He had no idea what he needed, so it was kind of nice to have someone dragging him around the fancy baby boutiques and getting all the high-end items he could possibly need. "Nothing but the best for the tiny genius you have in there!" She would say as she motioned to his growing stomach.

In his eighth month, it was sometimes easier to just be a bat. Especially because nothing was comfortable. Everything ached from his feet and ankles to his back and shoulders. Clothes were ridiculous. And eating was a nightmare because only one person seemed to not make him nauseous- and that person was off-limits.

So that's how he somehow found himself in Hotch's office, curled up in a mug, a tiny blanket (courtesy of Garcia) covering him as he slept for the millionth time that day. Gosh, he was always tired.

Hotch would pause his work every few minutes to check on Reid. He had noticed how the young Omega had attached himself to him, how could he not? And the Alpha wanted nothing more than to protect him, cherish him, and take care of him. He just wasn't quite sure how to bring it up. Especially when the Omega was overly emotional with everything going on.

He tapped his pen on the paper a couple of times, watching the rise and fall of the little blanket (more like a cloth) that covered the mug. Spencer had been getting sick when trying to feed from Derek, but seemed fine with Hotch's blood, he noticed. He wondered if there was a psychological reason behind that, or if it was chemical.

When the little bat stirred, sticking his head out from under the blanket with a cute yawn, Hotch smiled. He bit into the pad of his own thumb, offering it to the tiny Spencer (who looked ridiculous being this pregnant, rounder than a beach ball Emily had said).

Spencer didn't hesitate in his sleepy state, climbing out and attaching himself to Hotch's thumb, feeding from the pin-prick bite that marred the skin. He was so cute.

Hotch smiled to himself, resting his chin on his opposite fist, watching as Spencer slowly came to himself. The next few months were going to be interesting, he realized. Once Spencer had his pup, the team would be rather overbearing (not that they weren't already). And Hotch wondered then if Spencer would ever let him get close enough to help raise the baby. Because as he watched Spencer shake out of his sleepy mind, stretching a little before moving to the edge of the desk and shifting back to his human form, he realized he wanted to be with this Omega in a way that wasn't appropriate for him as his boss.

And when Reid leaned against the desk, a soft smile on his face as he murmured, "thank you," for allowing him to nap there, Hotch felt a pull at his heart.

Now wasn't a good time to bring this up, he told himself. But soon.

"You're welcome, Spencer."

-----

Tagging some people who might like this! @tobias-hankel @sparklinspence @goobzoop @thaddeusly @merpancake

[charincharge]

I Don’t Want To Wait, seven

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

Based on the prompt:

Sharing is caring. Now, give me the hoodie!

“I’m never drinking again,” Aelin moaned as she rolled over on Lysandra’s bed, shoving her head under the pillow. She knew Rowan had censored himself filling in the gaps of her night. Saying she was an angry drunk, though accurate, was not quite specific enough.

Apparently, she and Rowan had had a screaming match in the kitchen that he failed to mention, and Aelin had zero recollection of.

“The entire kitchen cleared out,” Lysandra explained, “Lyria included. But you were… pretty loud.”

Aelin groaned into the pillow.

“Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

Lysandra patted Aelin’s foot, trying to be comforting, but Aelin didn’t want to be comforted right now. She kicked Lysandra’s hand away.

“This is the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Lysandra snorted and poked her bare foot. “At least he thought you were talking about someone else?”

Aelin peeked out from beneath the pillow and frowned again. “That is so much worse. Now he thinks I’m mad at him for not letting me kiss NOX OWEN.”

“What else was he supposed to think? You can’t exactly blame him. You smacked his drink out of his hand and started screeching about how he ruined your kissing plans.”  

“As if I’d ever have a chance with Nox. I barely even have a chance with Rowan, and he’s been my best friend since we were eight.” Aelin sighed loudly. “Whatever. Everything is ruined now. He’s going to prom with Lyria.”

Lysandra frowned, the pity evident in her bright green eyes as she flopped down next to Aelin on her comforter. “I’m sorry, boo.”

“Tell me one more time,” Aelin sighed. “Exactly what we both said. Every word.”

“In the kitchen?”

Aelin nodded.

“You stared at Lyria’s hand for like… a full ten seconds. Then you smacked the drink out of Rowan’s hand, and screamed – Where’s my drink, bitch? And he very calmly said, What the fuck, Aelin? Because… you know. The drink spilled all over the floor. Then you screamed at the top of your lungs, I NEEDED ANOTHER DRINK, AND YOU RUINED EVERYTHING. And he did that eyebrow thing you hate and asked, What did I ruin? And then you screamed back KISSING PLANS. That’s when the kitchen started emptying out.” Aelin groaned.

“It’s so much worse hearing it again.”

Lysandra paused. “Do you want me to repeat the rest?” And Aelin nodded tentatively. It was masochistic, but she needed to hear it all again.

Lysandra sighed loudly, knowing the worst was about to happen. “You fucking raged, Aelin. You incoherently started screaming – I HAD KISSING PLANS. AMAZING REAL FIRST KISS PLANS AND YOU RUINED THEM BY GETTING DISTRACTED.” She crinkled her nose at that. “And it looked like Rowan was going to say something, but you just kept going on and on about your ruined kissing plans. You called him an idiot….” Aelin cringed. She couldn’t believe how belligerent she was. “And then you screamed, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO COME BACK WITH MY DRINK. THE DRINK WAS INTEGRAL TO MY KISSING PLAN. Which, by the way, nice SAT vocab drop while you were blackout drunk. That was impressive.”

Aelin couldn’t do anything more than flick off her friend. She was too busy berating herself for all the stupid things she didn’t remember saying when she was drunk. She’d been this close to telling Rowan she’d planned to kiss him. And she’d said FIRST KISS. It wasn’t like she hadn’t kissed anyone before – she totally had. There’d been several games of truth or dare which included kisses and a braces-filled makeout session at Camp Terrasen in eighth grade. She’d just meant their first kiss. She wanted to die.

“Then he got really mad himself and screamed back at you that you should have told him about your kissing plans, so he didn’t ruin your night. And you screamed back it didn’t matter since it was already ruined and clearly you could get your own drink.”

“I think that’s when he realized you’d had a little too much to drink that he’d clearly missed. And he sought out Nox, who explained the drink chugging, and while that happened, you literally chugged another drink and then launched yourself at Salvaterre.”

“I have to apologize,” Aelin said, but Lysandra shook her head.

“He didn’t bring it up for a reason.” Lysandra softened her eyes, running her hand through Aelin’s freshly showered hair. “I think once you punched Lorcan he chocked everything up to wasted nonsense.”

Aelin shoved her face into Lysandra’s pillow and let out a low laugh. What a nightmare. “I’m just grateful you and Elide were there to change me,” she said. “I can’t even imagine my embarrassment if Rowan had to peel me out of puke-covered clothes.”

“Yeah, you owe us for that one.”

Aelin’s mouth dropped in shock. “You left me to sleep on the bathroom floor!”

Lysandra laughed. “Only because you scissor kicked Rowan in the knee when he and Wes tried to take you up the stairs.” She looked at Aelin. “He’s not mad at you, Ace. He was going to let you sleep in his bed. Puke-covered and all.”

Aelin rolled onto her back. “But he’s going to prom with Lyria,” Aelin repeated again.

“She’s nice,” Lysandra quipped, causing Aelin to glare at her. “But she’s not you.” Aelin’s lips quirked upward at that. “He’ll figure it out eventually,” she said, letting Aelin breathe a sigh of relief. She really hoped Lysandra’s assessment was true. “Or he won’t, and you’ll spend the rest of your life pining away.”

Aelin snorted loudly. “Gee, thanks.”

“Welcome, bitch.”

Lysandra paused, her green eyes soft and nervous instead of holding their usual brash confidence as she continued. “I know you and Rowan are special best friends with, like, a special best friend song and everything.”

“We do not have a special best friend song?” Aelin interrupted, causing Lysandra to laugh and boop her nose softly.

“You do. It’s ‘Dancing In The Moonlight,’ which is adorable, but not my point.”

“And that is…?”

“I know I’ll never be Rowan, but I’m still a best friend, and if you need to talk about things… you can tell me. Especially if they’re Rowan things.”

Aelin bit her lip and breathed nervously. “I’m glad you know.”

“Oh, babe,” Lysandra laughed, rubbing Aelin’s shoulder softly. “I’ve known about your feelings for years. I’m just glad you finally told me.”

Aelin groaned and shoved her head under the pillow again.

~*~

Dear journal,

I don’t know who else to talk about this with. I know Lysandra KNOWS now, but I just need to vent to someone impartial, okay? Things with Rowan are so weird… because they’re not weird at all. After Lys told me what I screamed at him, I was sure he’d finally come out and clear the air, but it’s been a WHOLE WEEK, and he hasn’t said anythingggg. Everything is just…. normal??? He even let me keep the lacrosse sweatshirt Lys and El put me in. I tried to give it back, but he told me it was mine now. What the hell is THAT about? What does it mean?

I want to tell him I know about the fight, but then I’d have to explain I was screaming about kissing him, and I don’t know if he wants to hear that anymore.

All I know is that every time I look at him I feel like I’m about to explode. Not to mention I’m about to go suit shopping with him for ~PROM~ and I’m kind of freaking out. What is Rowan in a TUX going to do to my body? I might just combust there on the spot. Maybe he’s right. I should ask Lys to teach me how to … you know (masturbate). I tried to watch a video (I KNOW), but I got a million pop ups and got too nervous and shut my laptop off. Maybe I should look on my phone next time. Do phones get pop ups?

UGH OKAY. HE’S HERE. WISH ME LUCK.

Xo, Aelin

5/21/20 – age 16

Aelin slammed her journal shut and shoved it under her stack of decoy notebooks in her nightstand just before Rowan appeared in her doorway.

“Ready to go, Ace?”

She nodded and stretched her arms above her head, shaking out her hand, which was cramped from writing so neatly in her journals.

“Don’t you want to bring a jacket?” Rowan asked, looking at Aelin’s bared stomach pointedly.

“It’s almost June, Buzzard, don’t be such a prude,” she answered, her arms self-consciously crossing over the chest of her cropped t-shirt.

He rolled his eyes, leading them back downstairs, and Aelin grabbed her purse and followed. “Don’t come complaining to me when you’re too cold.”

“I would never,” she gasped, feigning shock. “And don’t forget you owe me post-shopping ice cream.”

“Oh, bring me back a pint of chocolate peanut butter,” Rhoe called out from the kitchen, his blue eyes peering out from behind the giant pages of the Orynth Times.

“Sure thing, Dad,” Aelin called out, passing by the kitchen with a wave.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Aelin doubled back and peered into the kitchen where her exhausted looking dad sat. “Rowan is taking you shopping? Has hell frozen over? Rowan, how did you get conned into this?”

Aelin looked up at Rowan, who scratched his head uncomfortably. “She’s actually taking me shopping. I need a tux for prom…” Rowan trailed off, his cheeks turning slightly pink as Rhoe returned a surprised look at the child who was practically his surrogate son.

“Ae, do you need a dress?” he asked, suddenly looking worried. Her dad would give her the moon if he could, but supporting a daughter on a firefighter’s single salary was often more than he could manage.

“Oh, no,” Aelin shook her head, carefully concealing her hurt feelings with a devilish smirk. “Rowan got asked to junior prom.”

Rhoe’s eyes widened, flickering between his daughter and Rowan rapidly, before smiling softly. “An older woman, eh?”

“It’s not like that…” Rowan grumbled, his cheeks flushing slightly as he looked down at the ground at his well-worn running sneakers. “I barely know her. I just said yes to be polite…”

“Sure, Buzzard,” Aelin said, poking Rowan’s side. He frowned at her unhappily, flicking her finger away.

Rhoe barked out a loud laugh. “Have fun, you two.” He fixed Aelin with a serious stare. “Make sure he picks out something really embarrassing, kiddo.” His stare broke as he winked, sending them off on their way, Rowan rushing out of the house as fast as his feet could carry him.

“Oh yeah,” Aelin laughed. “I’m putting him in blue ruffles first.”

“You are not!” Rowan called from outside, already starting up the jeep.

Aelin waved goodbye to her dad and hopped into the passenger seat, cranking up her mix, which was still playing in Rowan’s car.

~*~

“I look stupid,” Rowan whined, shoving his hands into the pockets of the umpteenth different styled tux the shop attendant had pulled for him. This one was black, again, but some kind of shiny material, and the pants had a stripe up the side.

Aelin couldn’t help the small frown that tugged at her lips at how picky her best friend was being. She honestly assumed the boy who mostly lived in athletic shorts and t-shirts would be fine with the first suit he tried on, but he was being finnicky and far too particular for someone who “just said yes to be polite.” And it was starting to get on her nerves. What she thought was going to be an exercise in sexual restraint was actually just trying her patience.

“Shiny, no good!” the salesman agreed, his accent curling thickly around his criticism.

Rowan sighed and turned to look at Aelin, who did her hardest to neutralize her facial expression before he saw her frown, but it was too late.

“I knew it,�� Rowan grumbled, peeling the jacket off and handing it to the salesman, who cleared out the full dressing room again, and Aelin gnawed at her lip, trying to think of something comforting to say.

“It’s not bad…”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Ace.”

“Language!” the salesman snapped, and Rowan’s mood lifted for a brief second as he laughed in shock, his eyes going straight to Aelin, as if to say Can you believe this guy? She shook her head in agreement, and she was relieved to see a smile on his face for the first time in two hours.

Aelin pushed herself off the small chair in the communal dressing room space and approached Rowan. She cocked her head to the side and let her eyes shamelessly trail his form. He was right about this particular suit. It did look stupid. But none of the suits, all in differing shades and cuts of black, had looked right. As her gaze trailed back up to his face, his breath held, patiently waiting for her conclusion, Aelin had a stroke of genius.

“Black isn’t your color, Ro. It’s washing you out.” Rowan’s face scrunched at her assessment, clearly unpleased. But the stark contrast between the white and black, combined with his pale hair was doing something to his usually tanned and glowing skin, and it wasn’t good.

“I refuse to wear a light blue suit,” he said, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Not something bright. Just… subtle color,” Aelin explained, and the salesman started nodding rapidly.

“Ah, yes, the Bellissima is correct. Color. Yes, color! COLOR!”

He excitedly ran back into the shop and returned with suits in various dark shades of navy and emerald and maroon slung over his shoulder. Aelin watched in amusement as he shoved Rowan back into the dressing room, telling him to try the green first.

Aelin stood impatiently, arms crossed and leaning against one of the 360 mirrors, hoping against all hopes that her assessment was correct. She wasn’t sure she could endure another two hours of this. Another five minutes would be bad enough, to be honest.

When Rowan walked out to the small platform, she knew she’d nailed itt. Her pulse thrummed loudly, and she could feel her lips part, inhaling a large gasp into her drying mouth. Rowan looked…

“Wow,” Aelin whispered at the same time Rowan said, “Huh,” peering into the mirror.

Aelin stood up straighter, pushing herself up and getting a closer view of the striking boy in front of her. The green was so dark, it just barely contrasted with the black lapels and trim of the suit, but the color brough a warmth to his face that had been missing, the green of his irises prominent beneath his long blonde lashes. Those bright eyes peered over at Aelin, searching for her reaction, and she couldn’t help the soft blush that appeared across her skin as they locked with hers.

Rowan cleared his throat, coughing lightly as he smoothed the jacket out, pulling the lapels gently. “Uh, yeah. Good call, Ace.”

Aelin lifted her long hair into a high bun, needing something to do with herself besides stare and to allow the breeze of the store fan to cool the back of her neck.

“The one!” the salesman cooed, running his hands across Rowan’s broad shoulders proudly. “We did it!”

When Aelin looked back up, she was surprised to see Rowan’s eyes still on her, gauging her reaction with curiosity. He raised a blonde brow in her direction, and Aelin was afraid for a second that she was going to launch herself at him right there and kiss his face.

Instead swallowed loudly and clapped her hands, shaking off the intensity of his gaze and smiled broadly. “About time, Buzzard. Now, let’s go get me some ice cream.”

The moment was broken as Rowan rolled his eyes and made his way back into the changing room, slinging the suit over the door as Aelin exhaled and slumped back into the chair for a brief reprieve.

“Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream,” Aelin chanted as Rowan paid for the tux rental.

Rowan slung his arm over Aelin’s shoulders and smiled down at her. “Fine. You earned it.”

“Hell yeah, I did,” Aelin said, as the salesperson shouted, “Language!” at them again, as they ran out of the store, both giggling.

By the time they reached their favorite ice cream spot, the sun had set, and the swift down current breeze of the Staghorn Mountains had started up, cooling the temperature significantly from the balmy afternoon Aelin had dressed for.

She looked out at the dark water, shivering slightly as she took her first bite of mint chocolate chip. Rowan bit back a smile as he wrapped his hoodie around himself tighter, keeping the winds out, happily eating his cookie dough without danger of freezing to death.

On her third bite, Aelin finally broke. “Oh come on, Buzzard, sharing is caring. Now, give me the hoodie.”

“I told you to bring your jacket!” Rowan laughed just as a particularly strong gust cut against Aelin’s exposed skin, making her shudder. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” he snorted, opening up the hoodie and nodding to her. “Get in here.”

“Really?” she asked, teeth chattering.

“You’re the worst,” he joked as he unzipped his hoodie and held it open, and Aelin practically raced into it. Rowan’s smile grew as he zipped the hoodie back up, which shockingly stretched large enough to fit them both. Just barely. Aelin pressed her cheek against his chest, soaking in his warmth as his free hand rubbed her back. She shivered again, but this time having nothing to do with the cold, warmth and desire radiating through her body as she felt every twitch of his muscles, every shallow breath.

“Better?” he asked, and she nodded, smiling happily into her next bite of ice cream. She savored each bite, not wanting the moment to end too soon. Each bite tasting better than the last, surrounded in Rowan’s grasp and heat. She breathed in, his heady scent filling her head, his embrace feeling so perfect around her. Her stomach calmed, everything suddenly feeling so right.

“Thanks, Ace,” he said quietly, resting his chin on her head. “I know that’s not how you wanted to spend your Saturday.”

Aelin finished her last bite and leaned harder into his warm chest. “I don’t care how we spend our Saturdays,” Aelin admitted. “As long as we’re hanging out.”

“Cool,” Rowan said, sounding so lame that Aelin couldn’t help but laugh, and she could feel him hiding his own smile in her hair. “Okay, we have to get back into the car,” he laughed outright, his hands rubbing circles onto her back, and Aelin shook her head into his shirt. No, she wanted to stay just like this forever.

“I’ll freeze to death!” she countered instead.

“We’ll just have to make a run for it. I don’t plan on losing you tonight, Ace.” Aelin groaned, but Rowan knew he’d won. “On the count of three,” he warned her. “One… two…” On three, he unzipped the hoodie, and Aelin screeched, her voice raising to glass shattering levels as she sprinted towards the jeep, wind whipping through her thin t-shirt and cutting against her warmed skin like ice.

Rowan unlocked the jeep as they ran, and they both launched themselves into their seats simultaneously, joyful laughter bubbling up in both of them and filling the car.

Aelin watched Rowan as he turned the car on, and immediately cranked up the heat. Her stomach fluttered again, and she crossed her legs to quell the ache of desire that had begun to take over her body.

As stealthily as she could, she pulled out her phone and texted Lysandra again.

I need some help.

Her phone lit up with Lysandra’s returning message almost immediately. XYZ kind of help???

Aelin snorted at the use of Rowan’s code name. Lysandra had suggested if Aelin ever wanted to talk about Rowan in text, she probably shouldn’t use his name. Just in case he ever saw. Aelin had immediately suggested his initials, RW, but Lysandra smartly pointed out he was the only RW they knew. Lysandra cackled, suggesting XYZ – because it came right after W. And with any luck, Aelin would be coming soon.

Aelin’s cheeks flushed as she texted back. Can you teach me/instruct me/explain how to masturbate?

OMG!!!!! MY BABY BUTTERFLY, YES YES YES GIRLLLLL!!!

Aelin laughed softly, and Rowan looked at her curiously, from her cheeks to the phone lit up in her hand.

“Who could you possibly be texting right now?” he asked, and if Aelin didn’t know better she would have thought he maybe sounded slightly put out.

“Lysandra,” she answered, a little too quickly, but her heart was beating too fast at the inappropriate back and forth she and Lys were having, especially since she wanted to fantasize about the person sitting right next to her while she… learned.

“What about?” Rowan asked, curious.

Aelin bit her lip. “You were right,” she said, her face probably beet red. She was grateful he couldn’t entirely see the color in the dark.

“About what?” he asked. “I mean, I’m often right about a lot of things,” he added cheekily.

“Masturbation,” Aelin replied as confidently as she could, while feeling like her skin was going to burn her alive. The car swerved slightly as Rowan snapped his head to look in her direction.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice sounding strained and high.

“Lysandra’s going to teach me.”

Aelin could feel her best friend’s gaze puncturing holes into her flaming cheeks as he searched for something to say. But when she looked up, she couldn’t speak fast enough.

“ROWAN!” she shouted as the jeep crashed straight into the taillights of the car in front of them.

~*~*~*~

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Healing Hands: Chapter 7

Little bit of a filler, but we’ve got some fun shenanigans in store! >:)

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Chapter 7: Guys bein’ dudes indeed

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje

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Marinette was up early again. She found herself some breakfast, then went to the stables. The Order had made it back late last night, so they didn’t have time to groom the horses. She entered the first stall and started to brush the first horse. The routine motion let her mind drift, and she thought back to the events of the past few weeks.

Marinette, Kagami, and Luka embarked on their daily ritual of collecting the morning paper from town. It was the day after they’d beaten the first boss, which they had reported anonymously. Marinette and Adrien had agreed that taking the credit would only serve to draw unwanted attention towards their group, which could put them and the rest of their friends in danger.

But it apparently had another unforeseen advantage. As Marinette paid for the newspaper that highlighted their victory, she heard comments from other players around her.

“Are you serious? Some party went rogue and beat the first dungeon on their own?”

“Selfish assholes, can’t believe they got all that loot to themselves.”

“Well I think it’s good that we’re making progress!”

“Yeah, if you ignore the fact that they didn’t tell us what it was like at all, so now we haven’t got a clue how to face the next one.”

She shook her head in disbelief and glanced at her companions, who looked similarly concerned. They hadn’t even considered that the other people might not want them to take up the battle alone. Or that last comment, that they were actually hurting the other players by not giving them the chance to fight too.

The three remained quiet until they returned to Chloe’s house, or the manor, as they’d taken to calling it. By then, Adrien and Chloe were awake, and followed without question as Marinette ushered the two to join her, Kagami, and Luka out by the well.

She told them what the people in town had said, Luka and Kagami jumping in with additional comments they’d heard from passersby, and they talked it over. Maybe it was worth fighting with other groups. It would certainly beat the first boss.

They decided to try working with others for the next dungeon, but to lead the battle so that the civilians would stay as safe as possible. There were already groups in town recruiting for it and people exploring the second level, so it couldn’t be too long before they found the next fight. They’d be ready this time, they thought.

Less than two weeks passed before they were ready to take on the second dungeon. The Order had spent the whole time training and leveling up. There was hardly a moment where they weren’t fighting monsters or sparring with each other. They became almost more adept with their new weapons than they were with their ones from the real world. Those days of miraculous encounters seemed a lifetime ago.

The Order made preparations with other groups of players, determining strategy and planning to play to each others’ strengths. All the parties assembled at the dungeon and set up to fight the boss.

All things considered, it could have gone much worse. The support teams kept all the fighters’ HP high, and they had whatever cover they needed whenever they needed it. The battle was significantly shorter with around forty players there. But when the other players got hit....

Marinette could still hear the screams of the civilians as they went down. The blood oozing from their wounds was so very lifelike, and there was no cure to sew them shut. Or bring them back if they fell.

Kagami and Adrien were focused on taking what would have been killing blows if the boss had struck anyone but them. Chloe and Marinette drew fire away from the other players, and Luka used his mace and shield to defend his fellow healers. But Marinette saw the pained look on his face at being separated from the rest. She relived the moment Kagami and Adrien went down while fighting the first boss in frequent nightmares, and she knew Luka did too. The two of them had shared a few too many late-night cups of tea while avoiding sleep.

They won the battle, but there were so many wounded, so many close calls. One look at her Order and she knew they felt as lost as she did. Was it worth it? The thought seemed to echo through each of their movements as they returned to the manor.

“Marinette?” Alya’s call shook her out of her daze. She looked down at her hands and saw that she’d finished brushing the last of the horses. Putting the brush away, she returned to the main space in the downstairs of their home.

Home. She supposed that’s what it was now, but it didn’t feel like it. The design of it was very cozy, there was no doubt about that. But she saw it as little more than a place to eat and sleep. There were far more important things she could be doing, sitting down to relax was out of the question.

“There you are,” Alya grinned from the kitchen. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in days!” She carried a simple charcuterie board into the living/dining area and placed it on the table. Nino, Adrien, Lila, Alix, Nathaniel, and Luka were already sitting in the various couches and chairs gathered around it.

“We were just about to have a snack and play some cards,” Alya said over her shoulder as she used a poker to encourage a small fire in the hearth. “You should join us, girl!”

Marinette’s gut response was to refuse, and she waved her hands and made excuses but Luka and Adrien got up and marched her over to sit next to them. “C’mon Buginette, you need this,” Adrien said quietly in her ear. Luka just gave her a meaningful look.

Over-protective mother hens.

She sighed and gave in. One afternoon of cards couldn’t hurt.

Nathaniel was on her other side. While Alya dealt out the cards, Marinette asked him, “How’s the garden coming along?”

His face lit up with a quiet joy. “It’s going great! I don’t know if the weather is going to change, but the onions are taking nicely!” She listened with a small smile on her face as he went on about the different crops he was planting in the garden. He’d really stepped up to grow the bulk of their food, and seemed to genuinely enjoy spending his days taking care of the plants.

She was glad that he could still talk freely to her, even in the game. They’d always been close and it was nice to see his artistic spirit was unbothered by... everything.

Adrien nudged her to play her turn, and she did so quickly. Across from her, Alix and Nino were laughing at something Lila had said, and Alya sat up proudly with a comment that made them laugh even harder.

On Adrien’s other side, Luka had his hands of cards facedown on his lap while he strummed a lute he’d bought the other day. The pleasant melody lifted her spirits and reminded her of happier times.

This is what she was fighting for, she realized. For Nathaniel to take pride in his art, for her dear friends to laugh, and for Luka to play his music. She blinked away the tears that rose in her eyes. This is what was worth fighting for.

Even if she couldn’t bring herself to sew, to create like she used to love doing. Here she just had to be Marinette the friend or Marinette the fighter. It was almost easier, having less to manage. And yet... she couldn’t feel that same joy for herself that she found so precious to her friends. Not until they were all home again. She couldn’t let herself.

* * *

Jason trudged into the base, pack digging into his shoulder with all the loot he’d recovered. He’d spent the past few days camping and level-grinding, which was apparently the correct term for it. He couldn’t even remember what Dick had said to set him off, but he needed to be on his own for a while. The woods were surprisingly peaceful, and he found the time spent by himself in nature to be refreshing.

“Hey.” Dick sounded pissed. The hell was his problem? Jason wasn’t even back long enough to do anything. Jason turned on his heel and raised his eyebrows. “What?”

Dick thrust a newspaper into his hands in response. He folded his arms, clearly expecting Jason to read it right then and there. Jason sighed loudly and slung his pack off. He turned his attention to the paper in his hand.

“Coalition of over forty players defeats second dungeon,” he read aloud. Shit.

“Just thought you should know,” Dick said in his I told you so voice. “When you went on your little adventure, you missed the next boss fight.”

Oh, now he remembered why he left! Because his “brother” is an asshole. “My little adventure was to get experience and level up,” he glared at Dick. “Which is still doing something more productive than just sitting on my fuckin’ hands.”

Dick’s nostrils flared. Good, he was itching for this conversation. “We are not doing nothing. We need more time to practice with the gameplay. Hell, Gar still tries to shift when we spar!” He threw up his hands in frustration. “We’re nowhere near ready yet, Jay.”

“You know, there’s more to this game than fuckin’ sparring.” Jason retorted.

Dicks brows shot up. “Oh, that’s rich coming from the guy who so desperately wants to get back to our lives that he runs off on his own.”

“I can’t stand being cooped up in this damn house all the time! Just because we’re stuck in this game doesn’t mean we have to stop living,” Jason shook his head. “We’ve already been in here for over a month, who’s to say how much longer it’ll be? We can’t just put our fuckin’ lives on hold the whole time.”

“Training to beat the game isn’t putting our lives on hold,” Dick rolled his eyes. “This place is a death trap in case you forgot. We need to train to get our lives back.”

This idiot just didn’t get it. “Oh sure, and in the meantime we can’t have any happiness or fun. Sounds pretty miserable to me.” He picked up his pack. “You can level up without training at all hours of the fuckin’ day, no matter what a certain black-haired, blue-eyed bastard says.”

Jason stormed out the door, bumping into Garfield on his way back outside. The kid stumbled backwards before pointing finger guns at him. “Nice alliteration!”

He ignored him and kept walking down the path that led into town.

“Hey, hey wait a minute!” Seriously kid? He heard that argument with Dick but still couldn’t take the fuckin’ hint.

Garfield caught up to him and said, “You know, for someone who was supposed to have a relaxing vacation, you sure look tense.”

“Fuckin’ excuse me?” Jason growled.

“Wh-what I mean is you’re probably looking for a way to burn off some steam!”

This was getting old. “Get to the point, kid.”

“On the third level, there’s a quest we can do to make our own guild!” Garfield bounced excitedly, keeping pace next to him. Well, a quest would certainly help get this new brotherly stress out of his system. “We want you to join us, pleeeeaaaase?”

“Hold up, who the hell is us?”

Garfield grinned at him. “Oh you know, just a couple of the guys.”

They’d reached a junction in the path that led to the main road. Waiting beneath the tree beside the signpost were Roy, Jaime, and Bart. The ex-speedster waved excitedly while Roy looked about as pleased to be here as Jason did. They got along swimmingly.

“Hey dudes, everyone cool if Jason joins us?” Garfield reached out to pat his back then hesitated as he thought better of it.

Jaime shrugged while Bart gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. Roy gave him a pitying look, like he’d been dragged into it too.

“Fine.” Jason muttered to no one in particular. “Are we heading out now?”

The other four got their things together. Jaime sent out party invites to everyone to better keep track of each other, which Roy and Jason reluctantly accepted. Garfield pulled up a pamphlet and started leafing through it. Jason spied the title, The Good Adventurer’s Guide to Guilds. Lovely.

“Alright,” Garfield snapped the papers shut and started walking down the path into town. “Let’s go to level three and get this bread!”

Roy narrowed his eyes. “The quest is to retrieve some bread?” He asked incredulously.

“Well, no but yes! But no. Man, we gotta teach you slang,” Bart slung an arm around Roy’s shoulders. The latter pushed him off and Jaime sped up his pace to plant himself as a buffer in between them as they walked.

Dumbasses.

The walk into town was easy, and they used the teleportation kiosk in the town square to get to the third level without a hitch.

The third level had some more interesting terrain than the plains of the first and second levels. Cliffs and quarries dotted the landscape in front of them. The main town itself was built onto a cliff, a gaping valley splayed out before them with minute details.

“Oh wow,” Garfield said. “This reminds me of that one town in France where--”

“Don’t care. Let’s move.” Roy cut him off and stalked down the winding road that would take them down into the valley. Jason smirked and followed suit.

Garfield made a face, then followed them along with the others. He pulled out his pamphlet again, then pointed them in the direction of the quest. Some quarry worker NPC wanted help collecting materials. If they got him everything on his list, he would apparently grant them the rights to start a guild? It made less and less sense as Gar read aloud from the paper.

They trekked on for a few hours, easily hacking apart the common monsters they came across. Between Jason and Roy, the others hardly had time to draw their weapons before the threats were gone.

“What’s better than this?” Garfield put an arm around Jason and Bart’s shoulders. Jaime grinned and put his arms around Bart and Roy. “Guys bein’ dudes!” He finished.

Roy, Bart, and Jason exchanged mystified glances. Roy and Jason had been out of the loop for roughly the same period of time, and Bart had told them before that not much of contemporary pop culture had survived into his future.

Guys bein’ dudes indeed.

Between the five of them, gathering the listed materials and getting them to the worker by sundown was easy. Well, it was easy for most of them.

“You look like a mess, ese!” Jaime exclaimed, seeing a very sticky and scratched-up Garfield. He groaned and replied, “Had to get tree sap. Trees fought back....”

Well, that served the little shrimp right, Jason thought to himself. He and Roy had been collecting gemstones, which could be mined out from the caves littered throughout the floor... or the infinitely more fun way of killing giant gemstone monsters. Take a wild fuckin’ guess which one they chose.

Jason was actually pretty content with the levels he’d gained from the quest. Not to mention getting his excess anger out from talking to Dick. It seemed like whenever he went to the house, there was always some type of disagreement between the two.

Damn. Maybe he should start saving for his own house.

His party currently stood in line at the guild registration office, also located on the third level. The setting sun cast a golden glow over the valley, highlighting the small clusters of houses dotting the countryside.

“Oh crap,” Garfield suddenly said. He danced nervously on his feet. “We did the whole quest, but I forgot the most important thing!”

Roy looked at him sharply. “What’s wrong?”

“We need a name for our guild!” Garfield wailed, clutching his hands to his head.

Seriously? Roy scoffed, “Why not just Justice League?”

Jaime rounded on him. “Are you nuts, ese? We can’t go around calling ourselves the Justice League. Secret identities and all that.”

Garfield paced in line, clearly thinking hard. “Hmm, justice. Juuuuustice. Just-ice. Just ice! Hey, we could do something with that!” He exclaimed.

Jason rolled his eyes. “Yeah that’s great,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “How about On the Rocks.”

Bart put a hand on his chin, looking thoughtful. “Well, we should add a little pizzazz to it, don’t you think?”

“I’ve got it! Rocky Road!” Garfield threw his hands in the air triumphantly. God this kid was excessive.

Jaime and Bart, after the former had explained it to him, voiced their approval. Roy and Jason looked at each other and silently commiserated over their unfortunate situation.

Rocky Road it was.

* * *

“Ugh, that was way harder than it needed to be.” Alya slumped over her battle axe.

Marinette giggled and offered her friend some water. “Well, a ton of other people are starting guilds too! So I guess there are limited resources for a while.”

Nino took the water from Alya after she’d finished with it. He drained it and looked heartbroken until Adrien handed him a new bottle.

The four of them had decided to team up and do the quest to establish a guild. Not everyone in the guild needed to attend the quest to establish one. So when Alya and Nino had approached Marinette and Adrien, asking if the original friend group could be the ones to do it, they couldn’t say no.

“Well, I just wish Marinette had told us about the quest sooner. Then we could have had an easier time!” Lila simpered, sweet as ever. Oh yeah, Lila had invited herself to come along too.

“Weren’t you also a beta tester?” Adrien frowned innocently.

Lila blinked, looking startled. “Oh yes! But you know about my memory issues. I really wish I could remember all these things to help us out,” she sighed dramatically. Typical.

“So!” Marinette decided to move that conversation right along. “We need a name for our guild. Got any ideas?”

Nino rubbed his arm. “Actually dudes, I’ve been thinking of a name for a while.”

“Oh? Let’s hear it!” Adrien smiled and nudged his best friend’s arm.

“Well, I was thinking we could be called Miracle Workers,” Nino began. Marinette traded a look of alarm with Adrien. “You know, because Alya and I used to be miraculous holders? And I thought it’d be kinda nice to honor Chat Noir, Ladybug, and the other heroes. We could use some of their strength right about now.” Oh, that was actually really sweet of him. Marinette offered Adrien a soft smile.

Alya looked at him fondly. Adrien, with a slight nod of approval from Marinette, gave him a side hug and said, “I think that’s a wonderful name.”

Lila tapped her chin. “I don’t know, workers seems a little odd to me. We’re more like leaders or executives.”

“Well, I think Miracle Workers is perfect, babe.” Alya leaned in to peck Nino on the cheek. “Let’s go with that.”

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