#Sorry for the late but i really wanted to draw your lamb back Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[meatones]

𝙷𝚒, 𝚟𝚊𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 ✏️!!! 𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝙰𝚃𝚃𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝙰𝚃𝚃𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚆𝚁𝙰𝙷𝙷𝙷𝙶

*punches back*

[yumeaoka-chan]

Hunger Pains

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Reader/ Ghoul! Hobie x Human! Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Tags: Tokyo Ghoul au, Blood, Ghoulified Hobie, no physical description of reader, can be read as gender neutral reader, scared reader, badass Hobie (I'm really not good at writing fight scenes, ugh), cursing, death (not as bad as you think), lovesick reader, lovesick Hobie, hungry boi Hobie, "The lion falls in love with the lamb" basically

Summary: You go to visit Hobie after not hearing from him for weeks.

A/N: Credit for the lovely banners goes to @the-shroom-garden !!! Late entry for week 3 of Octobie, I'm sorry @the-kr8tor 😭🤚 I got sick outta nowhere, so I'm currently laying in bed as I post this😔 I was going to write a Baldur's Gate 3 au but, the angst potential of Tokyo Ghoul kept screaming at me😭🤚

Taking a deep breath, you knock softly on the door, the houseboat calmly rocking on the water.

“Hobie? Are you in there?” You call out, a frown forming on your lips as you notice no lights are on inside. It's eerily quiet, especially at this time of night. You knew you should've waited until the morning. Tears sting your eyes and you inhale shakily, trying to will the feeling away. Hobie has been distant lately, almost as if he was avoiding you. If you call, he doesn't pick up. When you went to his band practice, his bandmates claimed he wasn't there. And when you went to his favorite hiding spot, the rooftop of a small local music shop that overlooks the city, he was nowhere to be seen.

Just when things were going so well, you thought to yourself as you slowly made your way off of his boat. You and Hobie had been friends for what felt like forever, being together through most of Primary school and all throughout Secondary. Even now, while you are enrolled in college, you two are thick as thieves. Throughout the years, your fondness and admiration of him had slowly formed into adoration and, dare you say it, love. You were in love with him, had been in love with him for quite a while. And just when you had worked up the courage to tell him how you feel, he practically ghosts you.

Walking through the shortcut through the alleyway to get to your dorm, you don't notice the set of eyes watching you from the rooftops, too busy lamenting over Hobie and what you could have done to push him away. The late night streets are silent, not a single soul out due to the frigid cold of the winter breeze. Shivering, you pull your jacket tighter around your body, sniffling from the cold or tears, perhaps. As you trudge on, you suddenly hear something behind you. The faintest of footsteps, the most quiet of chuckles. The very sound makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, goosebumps raising on your arms. Taking a steadying breath, you keep walking, albeit quicker than before. No good would come of acknowledging the sound, that much you knew.

The footsteps draw nearer still, making your heart begin to pound in your chest. Your pulse quickens, your breath hitches, and you suddenly forget to remain calm. Zipping and darting through the deserted streets of London, you try to lose your pursuer through the series of backstreets. Fear grips your chest as you hear the footsteps grow even closer, the chuckles now turned into cackles. How could you be so stupid? Walking around this late, knowing full well that they lurked in the shadows. You want to cry when you slam into a tall metal gate, hurriedly looking over your shoulder. That's when you see him. Tall and broad and practically frothing at the mouth, the long blue appendage coiled around his arm gleaming under the light of the moon. His grin is unhinged, eyes glowing red with pulsing veins surrounding them. When they meet your gaze, you can see the eagerness in them. It makes you let out a fearful cry as you scramble to climb over the gate.

A hand suddenly grips your foot, making you slip and cut your palm open on the sharp metal. You let out a hiss and you struggle to free your foot, fear clawing its way into your chest. The ghoul behind you inhales deeply, salivating at the scent of your blood oozing down your arm.

“Been so long since I had such a good looking meal. I'll savor you, little lambchop.” He cackles as he wrenches you away from the gate with one strong tug. You yelp as you fall down harshly onto the ground, your nose the first to collide onto the asphalt. Head swimming from the impact, you hardly register the crimson dripping from your nose, eyes blearily looking up at your captor with horror. And as he pried open his dripping maw, you could see your life flashing before your eyes. Every joyous moment, every harsh disappointment. And yet, no memory shined brighter than those that involved Hobie. You were going to die before ever getting to reveal your feelings to him. Lips wobbling and tears falling, you gazed at the face of your demise and whispered the one you wanted to see most.

“Hobie…” Just as quick as those words left your lips, the ghoul in front of you was viciously ripped away. Eyes wide with shock and disbelief at the sudden rescue, you blink up at the figure suddenly standing above you. His back was turned to you and sprouting from it were eight long, sharp, spider leg like tendrils. They were as red as the darkest of wines and glowed brightly, illuminating the alleyway. Squinting your eyes, you could see the faint outline of his head, the hair on his head making you gasp. Not just the hair, the clothes too. The leather jacket on his back and the boots that adorned him were all too familiar. Sitting up a bit, your lips tremble as you utter his name.

“I-Is that you… Hobie…?” Hearing his name on your lips is like a godsend everytime, but not this time. Not when you're shaking like a leaf from fear. Hobie grits his teeth as he turns to look down at you, hearing the sharp intake of breath you make when you see his eyes. One brown and one a glowing red, angry red veins surrounding it. He gives you a placating smile before turning his head back to glare at the ghoul that's now standing across from him. The taller man snarls, spit flying from his lips as his coiled appendage glows brighter.

“You filthy One-Eyed! That's my dinner! I called dibs!�� Crouching low and spider-like appendages curling around his form, Hobie glares harshly at the other.

“Touch a hair on this one's head and I'll fuckin’ kill you”, he utters lowly, voice on the edge of a growl. The taller ghoul cackles and points his finger at Hobie, eyes wild and sharp with mania.

“That right? I'll just devour you before I feast on the lambchop's flesh then!” With a roaring shout, the crazed ghoul rushes at Hobie, his sharp coiled appendage aimed straight for his chest. Fury rumbles in his chest as Hobie dashes forward to meet him, his deadly appendages shooting forward to harshly stab the ghoul's shoulder. The broad man howls with pain before twisting his body free of them, arm moving to swipe at the other's chest. Wincing as he feels it slice through his shirt and graze his skin, Hobie uses his appendages to propel himself into the air, before viciously bringing them down onto the man's head.

The fight goes on for several minutes, your eyes darting to and fro as you try to spot Hobie in all the madness. They're both quick and every blow you see him take makes you grip your chest, scared that he'll die in this violent whirlwind. Your heart hammers in your ears and it feels like the bloody battle drones on for nearly an hour. There's dust as they kick up and crack the asphalt beneath their feet, making it impossible to see through. Stumbling on your feet, your ears pick up the sudden wail of pain that rings in the air. It's silent then, the dust slowly clearing.

Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly walk forward, stepping closer to where you can hear the sounds of harsh panting. Just as you step into the circle of dust, you see a glowing red eye staring back at you.

“Don't!” Hobie's booming command rings in your ear and your body seizes up almost automatically. As the dust finally starts to settle, you can see how he grips his right side, blood flowing through his fingers. His other hand is held out in your direction, palm facing you in a clear indication for you not to come any closer. Hobie's face is scrunched up in a painful grimace as he watches concern flit across your features. He adamantly shakes his head, feet slowly backing away from you.

“Don't”, he says, softer this time, like he can't mask the agony that colors his voice. “P-Please just… don't…” He can't take it, can't take how good you smell. How good your blood smells. Skin that he knows would be so soft beneath his fingers, so giving as his nails dig into your arm, leaving marks that would never fade as his lips descend onto your neck. Hobie closes his eyes as the very image seers inside of his brain. It's so vivid that he can almost taste it, taste the way your skin gives beneath his teeth as he gorges himself on the divine banquet that is your flesh.

“No, no, fuck, no…”, he mumbles to himself, hand that was held out to you now gripping his hair. He tugs on the coarse hair, biting his lip so hard that he breaks the skin. “Not Star… Not my Star…” Because how could he ever think to harm you, his Star, his light in this oppressed world? Just the fact that he even imagined tainting you, defiling your body with his disgusting, atrocious hunger… Tears slip down his cheeks as he feels the gaping blackhole in his stomach nag at him, begging him to feast on you, the one he loved most. Because what is love if not to consume and be consumed in return?

You weren't blind to his internal conflict, seeing the way he leered at you before stumbling back, farther away from you. Taking a step forward, you're careful to avoid stepping on the body of the dead ghoul in front of him. Hobie's head shoots up and it makes your heart ache, seeing the waterfall of tears cascading down his cheeks. He's shaking his head furiously as he stumbles back slowly and you steel your resolve, even as he yells and curses at you. Shouts of “No, stay back” and “I'll hurt you, please stay back” ring in your ears and with a heavy heart, you press on. Hobie's back is pressed against a brick wall by the time you come face to face with him, his lips trembling and long legs shaking slightly.

“Hobie”, you breathe out softly as you press a shaky hand against his cheek, making him shudder. “Hobes… Is this why you've been avoiding me…?” His face twists into a visibly pained scowl as he clenches his eyes shut. Taking a careful breath, he slowly nods his head. Fear releases its icy claws from your heart, leaving only tenderness and concern for the man before you. You wait patiently as he calms his frantic breathing, the appendages surrounding him slowly retreating into his back. When he looks at you again, you see his brown eyes glistening, the hunger still lurking beneath the depths of his lipid pools. You give him a small smile, acceptance shining in your soft gaze.

“Tell me everything. From the beginning, okay?” Is what you whisper to him. Hobie can't help but bask in the bright light, the shining beacon that is you. It's then and there that he's determined to find a way to put that sickening hunger to sleep for good, his love for you stronger than his beast.

“It's… a long story, love…”

[erin-bo-berin]

Cupid

MASTERLIST

This was requested by @sundippedprincess​ I’m pretty sure! Oh man, don’t we all love some daddy Spencer? I couldn’t resist writing this cute little fluff piece. Hope it’s a good start to all of you guys’ Mondays. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (fluff)

Word Count: 4,773

For as long as you could remember, you wanted to be a teacher.

Apparently, after coming home from your first day in kindergarten, you had announced to your parents that you wanted to be a kindergarten teacher. Twenty years later, you were living your dream.

Your kindergarten kids were your whole life. You always loved seeing them, watching them grow and learn. You typically dreaded summer vacation because you missed your kids and teaching so much, despite the few months of break.

This was only your second year of teaching, but you were enjoying it just as much as your first. It was tough saying goodbye to the first group of students, but it made it worth it when you saw them in the school halls and some still ran up to greet you.

School had just let out for another day and you already missed the bright young minds of your students. You were cleaning up your classroom before working on some grading when you heard a small voice coming from your doorway.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

You turned and saw a little girl with light brown curls and a turquoise blue backpack standing in your doorway, looking hesitant. She was one of your best behaved students, Ayla Reid.

“Ayla! Did you forget something?”

She shook her head, her ponytail bouncing with the movement.

“My daddy is late and they told me at the office to come stay with you instead of waiting outside by myself. Is that okay?”

She was the sweetest little girl. She was a bright little girl as well, having no trouble with soaking up new knowledge like her brain was a tiny sponge. She was always kind and helpful when it came to other classmates, but she never hesitated to speak her mind. All in all, she was an outgoing, bubbly little girl with a heart of gold.

“Of course, sweetie. Come on in.”

You took the chair to her desk off the top of it, setting it back on the floor so she could sit in her usual place.

You peeked over your shoulder as you headed to your arts and crafts station to see her settling in to her normal desk. You grabbed some paper and crayons and walked back to her with them in hand.

“Would you like to color while you wait?”

She nodded, smiling big.

“I love to color!”

You laughed, knowing that all too well. It was one of her favorite activities when doing schoolwork. 

“Is your daddy always late when picking you up?” you asked, sitting back down behind your desk.

“Yeah. Sometimes it’s just a few minutes, but he’s never been this late,” she answered.

She’d already opened the box of crayons and was starting to draw before you’d even asked your question.

You glanced at the clock in your room to see it was nearing 3:15. School let out at 2:30–Ayla’s father was nearly an hour late.

“This doesn’t happen all the time,” she said, “‘Cause sometimes my mommy picks me up.”

You understood that. Plenty of your students had parents who worked full time and was occasionally late to pick them up.

She said nothing else as she was busy with her picture, so you started sorting through the turned in work for the week so far. You would have to log in grades and update the grades later on so it was just easier to get through this first step now.

“My daddy works a lot,” Ayla said out of the blue.

You looked up, smiling, seeing her still hard at work with her crayons.

“What does he do?” you asked, interested.

“He’s a pwofiler. I’m not quite sure what that means but he works in the FBI. That’s like the police but more important.”

You chuckled. She wasn’t one to miss much. When you’d said she was incredibly smart, you hadn’t been exaggerating.

“That sounds like a very interesting job. I’m sure you’re incredibly proud of him, Ayla,” you said.

“Mhm,” she nodded big, looking up from her picture, “He’s very smart too. He’s got a robotic memory!”

You raised a brow, not quite sure what she meant, but laughed anyway.

“Is that so? That’s impressive.”

“He a docta. But not like the ones you go to when you’re sick.”

She went back to the picture and you watched her for a moment, amused. There was so much energy and spunk in this little girl. You wouldn’t doubt for one minute that her parents had their hands full with her.

“Can I show you my picture?” she asked.

“Of course, let me see.”

You stood up, walking over to her desk, crouching to her level.

On it, there were several stick figures.

“Oh that’s beautiful,” you grinned, “Are these your friends?”

“No, these my aunties and uncles at the BAU. That’s where my daddy works.”

“I see,” you said, listening intently.

“This my daddy,” she pointed to the tallest of the group.

“This is auntie Emily, auntie JJ, auntie Penelope and auntie Tara.”

She smiled proudly as pointed at the obvious female stick figures.

“And what about these three?” you asked, motioning to a group of men.

“That is uncle Luke, uncle Dave and uncle Matt. The two on that side are uncle Hotch and uncle Derek. They don’t work with my daddy anymore but they still my uncles.”

“Wow, you’ve got a lot of extended family, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she beamed.

“Ayla, honey, I’m so sorry.”

You stood up from where you were crouching next to Ayla to see a quite tall man walking into your classroom, a tan, leather satchel slung over his body.

“Daddy!” Ayla squealed, jumping out of her seat, running towards him.

She collided into his legs, hugging him and he picked her up with a big smile on his face, kissing her cheek.

You took the moment to get a better look at him, now that he was closer.

He was undeniably attractive, but didn’t seem to be the type that flaunted his looks either. His light brown hair was as curly as his daughter’s and looked to be in a bit of disarray, part of it falling over his forehead while other curls fell in numerous directions.

He was outfitted in a work suit, a tie and sweater underneath his suit jacket. He pulled it off very well.

His eyes gleamed as he looked at his daughter and she kissed his stubbled cheek. You didn’t fail to notice his sharp jawline or his easy, bright smile either.

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” he apologized, whether to Ayla or you, you weren’t entirely sure.

“It’s okay daddy. I like Miss Y/L/N. She’s pretty like a princess.”

You sucked in a breath in surprise, touched by her words. You couldn’t help when your eyes immediately teared up. It was such a sweet and sincere thing for Ayla to say and knowing kids were brutally honest, you knew she meant every word of it.

You cleared your throat, composing yourself when you noticed Ayla’s father watching you, eyes squinting in concentration.

He probably thinks you’re a blubbering fool, you thought.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Reid,” you extended your hand.

“It’s docta Reid,” Ayla corrected you, emphatically.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry. Dr. Reid.”

He chuckled, setting Ayla back down and telling her to get her things together.

“It’s no big deal,” he said, shaking your hand.

You tried not to focus on the fact his hand was so large in yours as you quickly pulled back, silencing any further thoughts.

“I told Miss Y/L/N how you’re a pwofiler and have a robotic memory!” Ayla exclaimed, as she cleaned up her desk, putting her picture in her backpack.

“Uh, it’s actually eidetic,” he said, flushing a bit.

“I couldn’t remember what it was called so I just went with robotic,” Ayla shrugged.

You both chuckled at her response, before turning back to each other.

“I was wondering how smart you must be to have a robotic memory,” you smiled.

“Well she was kinda close,” he grinned, running a hand through his hair, “Eidetic is just another term for photographic memory.”

“Oh wow,” you said, surprised, “That’s impressive. No wonder you have such a brilliant daughter.”

He smiled appreciatively and said his thanks before speaking again.

“I don’t remember seeing you at the Kindergarten registration a few months ago.”

“Oh, unfortunately I wasn’t able to attend as I was sick. My teacher’s assistant Mrs. Lamb stepped in for me. Apparently she was a big hit though because she got all the kids to believe she was from Old MacDonald's Farm!”

You cringed inwardly at your spiel. You were used to talking to five year olds and other teachers, definitely not attractive dads, let alone men in general.

You chided yourself again. He was probably married anyway and you had little business drooling over a student’s father.

His smile was on full display though as he laughed at your statement.

“Come on Ayla, we need to get going. I have to head back to work for a little while but you can hang out with auntie Penelope okay?”

“Okay!” she grinned, putting on her backpack and taking his hand.

They were just leaving when something made you stop them.

“Um, Dr. Reid?”

He paused, turning back to you.

“Yes?”

“If you ever find yourself running late to pick Ayla up, I’d be happy to let her stay in my classroom until you get here.”

You’re not sure why you offered. Well for one, you really did like Ayla, she was such a sweet girl. But you tried to convince yourself that it was just a nice gesture to hopefully make things a bit easier on him. You knew sometimes your parents struggled with finding someone to pick up their child from school on time.

It wasn’t because you hoped to see him again. Definitely not.

“Oh you don’t have to. I can try to get away earlier when possible,” he protested.

“No, it’s okay,” you reassured, “I’d love the company. Besides, she’s such a joy to have.”

He seemed to take a moment to think it over before nodding.

“I just may take you up on that.”

•

“Daddy, what does pwofiling mean?”

Spencer had just lifted Ayla into the car and placed her into her booster seat, where she was currently buckling the seatbelt to it.

“Well,” he paused, intrigued at what could have brought on her sudden question, “It’s just studying a person’s behavior. For example, I can recognize how you behave guiltily when you eat the last cookie in the cookie jar.”

Ayla grinned big, not in the least bit ashamed.

“But you do that with bad guys right?”

“That’s correct, baby,” he smiled, kissing her forehead.

He closed the back door and walked around to the driver’s side door, sliding in. He had just gotten his own seatbelt clicked into place when she spoke again.

“Daddy, I pwofiled you.”

“Did you now?” he chuckled, amused at his little girl’s comment.

“Yes,” she nodded, “You like Miss Y/L/N.”

“Well of course I do, she’s your teacher and she’s very nice.”

“No, I mean you like like her,” she emphasized.

“What makes you say that?” he asked.

“Because you’re smiling all goofy,” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “You only smile like that when you talk about things you know about.”

He felt himself flush a little bit. It was true, he hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d left Ayla’s classroom. There was something refreshing about her teacher and he would have to be blind to not admit she was indeed as Ayla had said, very pretty.

“Are you going to ask her to be your girlfriend?” Ayla asked as he drove out of the school parking lot.

He chuckled at her brazenness.

“Honey, I don’t even know her. Besides, I’m too busy to date.”

“I’m busy too but I have a boyfriend.”

“You do?” Spencer asked, trying his best to hide his surprise.

“Of course, daddy,” she rolled her eyes, exasperated, like she was a teenager already, “I’m busy and don’t always get to see Michael but he my boyfriend.”

Spencer smiled to himself. Michael LaMontagne was his best friend JJ’s and her husband Will’s youngest son. He was a little over two years older than Ayla, but she always proclaimed that Michael was her boyfriend. The two got along extremely well and it was incredibly adorable.

He decided not to comment any further on it though because he knew she wouldn’t give up on it easily.

“Baby, you know what days daddy picks you up, right?”

“Yup. Mondays and Fridays.”

“Good. Since I never know when I might be running late, will you ask Miss Y/L/N if you could stay with her until I get there?

“Okay daddy.”

She turned to the window, watching the passing landscape, her previous conversation apparently finished.

He’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t looking forward to seeing Ayla’s teacher again.

•

Ayla rushed out of the elevator when the doors opened on the floor the BAU was located on.

“There’s my favorite girl!”

Penelope has been waiting for them, excited to spend time with her goddaughter. As she was her only goddaughter, Ayla definitely got a bit spoiled.

“Auntie Penelope!” Ayla squealed, running into Garcia’s arms.

“How was your day at school, pumpkin?” she asked.

“Good,” Ayla beamed.

“Must’ve been, your daddy is 15 minutes late getting back,” Garcia said, eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Uh, traffic,” Spencer said.

“No,” Ayla shook her head, looking up at Spencer, “You were busy smiling at Miss Y/L/N.”

“Miss Y/L/N?” Garcia questioned, her interest piqued.

“She’s my teacher,” Ayla explained, “And she’s really pretty, auntie Penelope. Like a princess!”

“Like a princess, huh?”

Garcia was now eyeing Spencer hardcore with a knowing grin. Spencer knew she would be all over this with a million questions before long.

“Sweetie, why don’t you go hang out with auntie Penelope now while daddy finishes up his work?”

“Alright. Come on auntie Penelope! I wanna show you the picture I drew!”

Ayla grabbed her hand, practically dragging Garcia towards her lair.

Garcia looked over her shoulder pointing a finger at him.

“Don’t think you’ve escaped my questions! We’re talking about this later!”

Spencer knew good and well they would be.

“So, a pretty kindergarten teacher, huh?”

Spencer startled, seeing Luke standing in the doorway of the BAU, his back against the glass door, holding it open. In his hand was a plastic cup of coffee that he was drinking. He’d obviously been here longer than Spencer had realized and had heard everything. 

“Don’t you start too,” he grumbled.

“Hey, I’m just curious!” Luke protested, following Spencer in as he walked into the unit, “How pretty is she?”

“Very,” Spencer mumbled to himself.

Getting her out of his head would be the best thing to do, although maybe not the easiest.

•

It was the third time that you were keeping Ayla in your classroom after school until Dr. Reid could pick her up.

You found yourself counting down the hours every Monday and Friday, waiting to see his bright and smiling face. 

You couldn’t believe you were looking forward to a maybe five minute encounter out of your entire day, but here you were.

“Miss Y/L/N?” you heard Ayla call from her desk.

“Yes?” 

You looked up from the learning packets you were stapling together for the new week.

“Is it okay if I feed Freddy?”

Freddy was the class pet, a neon tetra fish. He was a simple fish, one that was easy for new fish owners, from what you’d researched before getting him.

He was small, but feisty. His coloring really took you by surprise when you first got him. With colors of bright red and green, red towards the end of his body and a lime green towards his front with a turquoise blue duochrome look to him, he always looked festive and bright.

He had an automatic fish feeder, but every once in a while you let one of your students throw a small amount in for him as an extra treat.

“Of course,” you smiled, getting up to help her.

You walked over to the fish tank and grabbed the fish food, opening it for her.

“Now, just get a tiny little pinch, okay?”

She nodded and did what she was told, her face serious as she concentrated on what she was doing.

Stepping up on the stool you left in front of the tank—for the small kids purposes—she sprinkled the food into the water. Freddy immediately devoured it.

“I think he liked it,” she smiled, watching him through the glass.

“I think he did too,” you agreed.

“Well, what do we have here?”

You turned, seeing Dr. Reid walk in, a smile on his face.

Your stomach fluttered, seeing him again for the first time in days. 

“I fed Freddy, daddy!” Ayla grinned big, running to give him a hug.

“Did you now? That’s a very big girl task! I’m proud of you! High five!”

He was crouched in front of her, hugging her but then he pulled out of her embrace and held up his hand, which she high fived.

“It’s time to get your things kiddo, we’re having your favorite for dinner tonight,” he said.

“Chicken nuggets with sweet potato fries?”

“You guessed it! Now go,” he shooed her towards her desk.

You smiled, watching them. He stood back up, facing you with a small smile.

“I hope she wasn’t any trouble.”

“Not at all. She’s an angel. She’s probably one of my best behaved students,” you said.

“Now that’s surprising,” he chuckled.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Ayla called, coming back over with her backpack on her back, “You should come to dinner tomorrow night.”

“I-” you began, in attempt to politely turn her down, when Dr. Reid spoke before you.

“Bunny, you’re going to be at your mom’s tomorrow night,” he said.

Ayla’s reply was simple and to the point.

“I know.”

You felt your eyes widen and your face heat when you realized her insinuation. Dr. Reid looked just as flustered and thrown as you felt.

“Ayla, honey, you know daddy has to work tomorrow. Remember I told you I had to work late?” Spencer stammered, trying to say the entirety of the few sentences.

At that point, you just wished for a hole to open up in your classroom floor and swallow you. If it wasn’t awkward enough that one of your students had basically just asked you out for her own father, then it was definitely the fact that he was trying to backpedal on the “invite” and most likely because he had no interest in you, not that you could blame him.

“Daddy, you told me it’s wrong to tell a lie,” Ayla gave him a look.

You were sure at this point Dr. Reid had turned scarlet from his face all the way down his neck. You felt bad for him, but still felt the awkwardness of the situation.

“You said that when I was at mommy’s house last week. You said this week you wouldn’t have to work late.”

Somehow, this behavior from Ayla didn’t surprise you in the slightest. When she was set on something, she was determined to accomplish it.

He looked up at you, clearly uncomfortable but you spoke before he could, trying to salvage the situation.

“Don’t worry,” you chuckled, “Kids will be kids. Believe me, I know. I have 28 of them for 8 hours, 5 days a week.”

His smile eased a bit and you felt yourself relax a tiny amount.

“I hope you have a good weekend Ayla and I’ll see you Monday,” you said.

You couldn’t help but notice her pouty expression as Dr. Reid took her hand and left your classroom.

You almost had to breathe a sigh of relief after living through that awkward moment.

You had just sat down behind your desk and resumed stapling papers together when you heard your name being called.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

You glanced up, seeing Dr. Reid in the doorway sans Ayla.

“Yes? Did Ayla forget something?” 

You stood, ready to head towards her desk to check for a missing folder or a favorite toy.

“Actually, no, I did.”

You gave him a confused look before he began to explain.

“I was- uh I was actually wondering if maybe you’d like to get coffee sometime? With me? Or maybe ice cream or something considering it’s still pretty hot? Hot outside I mean.”

Your stomach quite literally did a flip flop at his cute, nervous, rambling. 

Here was a grown man, who worked in the FBI, had a child and could probably rival a Bachelor contestant, yet he managed to adorably stumble over his words as he asked you out.

“Well, I practically live off coffee because of my job,” you said.

“So do I,” he grinned, a small, new found connection between the two of you, discovered.

“But ice cream sounds nice,” you smiled, “Whenever you’re free that is.”

“Tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow sounds fine,” you concluded, “Hold on.”

You turned to grab a sticky note from your desk, jotting something down quickly.

“My number,” you smiled, handing it to him, “Just let me know what time.”

“It’s a date.”

“It’s a date,” you confirmed.

“Oh and for future reference, I’m Spencer.”

“Y/N,” you grinned.

With a smile on his own face, he walked back out of your classroom, presumably to an awaiting Ayla.

You had to hold back your laughter when you heard her next statement all the way from the hallway, clear as day.

“I think I know now why uncle Morgan used to say you got no game.”

•

It was roughly 2 pm the next afternoon as you stood outside the ice cream parlor that was near the elementary school. 

You fidgeted in place nervously, wondering if he was going to show.

His actual asking you on a date was so sudden and abrupt, you’d hardly had time to wrap your head around it. 

With one glance down at your outfit, you tried hard not to criticize yourself. You’d changed about six times before finally deciding on a simple, cute, sleeveless sundress in an aqua turquoise color. It would be cool, cute, casual and not trying too hard.

“You look nice and cool.”

You turned to see Spencer approaching you and you smiled, relieved that he actually showed up and it wasn’t just a dream.

“Hot enough for you?” you chuckled.

“Too hot,” he agreed, “Shall we?”

He motioned after him and you walked into the wonderful chilly air of the ice cream parlor. He even held the door open for you; this man was already amazing.

There was only polite small talk while you both ordered; mint chocolate chip in a cone for him, vanilla in a cup with numerous toppings for you.

“Vanilla?” he raised an eyebrow at your choice.

“Only if I’m in the mood for a lot of toppings,” you elaborated.

You’d ordered your ice cream with Oreo pieces, rainbow sprinkles and chopped nuts.

When you both retrieved your orders from the counter, he peeked over at yours.

“There any ice cream under there?” he teased.

“Hush,” you chuckled.

You found a shaded table outside to sit at. Despite the heat, a small breeze occasionally cooled the temperature, making it a bit more bearable.

“So, Y/N.”

“That’s my name,” you smiled.

It was amazing how up until this point, you’d been so nervous for this date, but sitting in front of him, you were much more comfortable.

He took another lick from his cone, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Why teaching?”

You raised a brow, figuring you’d get in a question of your own too.

“Why the FBI?” you inquired.

He chuckled, appreciating your challenge.

“I’ll answer your question if you answer mine,” he said.

“Well—as the story goes, my parents claim—I came home from my first day of Kindergarten claiming I was going to be a teacher, specifically a kindergarten teacher. I don’t remember this at all,” you laughed, “But apparently it was kismet.”

He watched you intently as you talked, eating his ice cream silently as he hung on to your every word. It was surprising at how nice it made you feel to know he was interested in knowing about you.

“I joined the FBI when I was 22.”

“Wow, that’s really young and impressive,” you said, eyes wide.

“Well to preface this, I was somewhat of a childhood prodigy. I graduated high school at 12 and managed to earn three PhDs by 20, plus two BAs.”

You stared at him open mouthed, your spoon halfway to your mouth, the ice cream on it melting and dripping back into the cup.

He looked embarrassed and a bit uncomfortable. Something told you that while he was proud of his achievements, he wasn’t one that really enjoyed bragging about them.

“That explains the title of Doctor and the robotic memory.”

That seemed to break the spell and his face broke into a grin as he laughed easily at his daughter’s antics.

“That child, I swear. She’s something else.”

“She really is,” you agreed.

There was a lull in conversation and you decided to ask him about what you were wondering from the previous afternoon.

“So...you and your wife are separated or divorced I assume?”

“Oh me and Ayla’s mom have never been together actually.”

“Oh,” you said, surprised.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to deal with divorced, separated or even single parents of your students, but to actually know the circumstances like this was unusual for you.

He nodded.

“I wasn’t in a place for a relationship and neither was her mother, so all we ever had was a physical relationship and Ayla was the result of that. We remained friends and co-parent now. She’s got a lovely fiancé now though that’s great with Ayla. But as messed up and impractical as that relationship was, I wouldn’t change it for anything though because it gave me Ayla and I’ve never regretted her for a moment,” Spencer said.

“She clearly adores you,” you smiled, “You’re a great father too.”

“Thank you,” he smiled shyly, “I try my best. But what about you, anyone special?”

He winced the moment the question left his mouth.

“Well if there was, I wouldn’t be here now would I?” 

You could help but tease him, flashing him a joking expression.

“Point taken,” he laughed inwardly, “It didn’t dawn on me how obvious the question was until I said it. I’m sorry, I’m not really good at this dating thing. It’s been a long time since I’ve done it, actually.”

He looked pained, like a teenager on his first date, but you found it extremely endearing.

“Well I think you’re doing just fine,” you reassured him, “Also, no.”

His brow crinkled in confusion.

“No, what?”

“No, there’s no one special in my life. Unless you count 28 five year olds,” you snickered.

Sometime during the conversation, you’d both finished your ice cream. You tossed your trash and returned to the table.

“I’ve got a few hours before I have to pick up Ayla. Would you like to take a walk?” Spencer asked.

“Sure,” you agreed.

The two of you walked side by side, chatting it up about a variety of different things until his tinkering chuckle made you glance up at him, curious to what he found so funny.

“What is it?”

“It just struck me funny,” he said, pausing to look down at you.

You stopped with him, waiting for him to continue.

“Who would’ve thought my five year old daughter could be such an adorable yet successful pint sized Cupid?”

You had to agree as your face broke into your hundredth smile of that afternoon. She had been persistent and it seemed like her persistency had paid off.

He was right though, you’d never in a million years imagined one of your pupils playing matchmaker for you.

But you were glad Ayla had.

How thankful you were to have her in your class.

“She was right, you know,” Spencer said, more serious now.

“About what?”

“You are as pretty as a princess.”

As you two resumed your walking, the smile now permanently plastered on your face, you could’ve sworn you felt his hand brush yours ever so slightly.

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[courtlyharlequin]

For🌙 - Before me stood the Malleus Draconia himself. He guided me into the more thorny parts of the woods where his castle stood, once inside we had some tea and spent the night talking and cuddling by the fireplace

Aromatherapy

A/N: Not that you need to know, but this fic was inspired by black chamomile bergamot hand soap. It had such a calming effect on me that somehow transferred into my writing. It smells really good I’m ♡♡♡

A/N²: This was a little self indulgent as I wanted to establish some lore of the event into this fic. Also, my writing might be a little rusty after my semi-hiatus so I’m sorry if it’s not up to par as my other works. Thank you for being so patient. I should be able to write more frequently now  <3

A flurry of delicate crystals fell from the sky, nipping the tip of your nose with a slight sting. You held back a sneeze as you quickened your pace. The creatures of the night howled with the wind. You spun your heel, meeting with dozens of glowering eyes that illuminated the forest. They crawled towards you. Each step forward unearthed more grotesque features ranging from more than one set of jaws to foaming mouths. Your breath hitched and you turned around, picking up your pace. Your legs were light as a kilogram of feathers. As the snow fell more vehemently, you prayed that the sun would rise soon.

When the White Rabbit led you into the woodlands, she had stated that you were invited for a tea party, one where you could eat anything you desired– if those things fit weren’t mustard and could fit into the Hatter’s hat that is. Yet here you were, ready to become a night creature’s late night snack. Apparently, slightly crumbled cookies from your basket did not suffice. They discarded the goodies the moment they received the basket. Granted, you did throw it at them as a distraction.

Your foot collided with something underneath the thin sheet of snow. You yelped as you fell to the ground. The snow crunched under your weight as you shifted onto your knees. It was warm, like an embrace. Since when was snow warm?

The beasts’ growls were in earshot. Rising to your feet was a struggle. You scrambled across the snow, but to no avail. At this rate, you were going to be devoured. It was so cold. You were so tired. Perhaps it would be alright to give into a kiss of death. You were alone and lost in the woods, searching for an exit aimlessly. The night creatures inched towards you with precise steps. There were three of them– three ghastly beasts fueled by hunger.  One of them appeared to be the alpha, leading the others towards you. You closed your eyes as it pounced onto you, sinking its jaws onto your calves. The snow was terribly warm. It was almost cozy. You cried into it like a child would into a mother’s sleeve.

Thunder clapped and the night wailed. A flash of green flames illuminated the sky and disappeared as fast as it came. Your legs felt less heavy. Then, the numbness in your leg faded. You groaned. Was that it? Had you perished so soon? 

“Are you lost, little lamb?” a voice cooed.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a figure painted in black from head to toe crouch before you. You felt cold, but it quickly faded as you felt them scoop you up into their arms. You gazed at the ground. They were quite tall or so it would seem. Their warmth differed greatly from the snow’s.

You opened your eyes drowsily, meeting your gaze with your savior. Your senses were hazy, but you were certain that snow was not an ethereal being with long ebony locks, brilliant viridian eyes or sleek horns. Perhaps this being was your guardian angel. Or the devil? Angels didn’t don black cloaks, but he resembled one in every way. Divine. Absolutely divine,

You mewled and hugged him a little tighter, darkness engulfing your consciousness.

There was a bright light. You blinked twice. This was not the afterlife at. Or at least not what you imagined it would be. You thought it would be more extravagant than the interior of a gothic castle. It seemed dull– gray, somber. The candelabras were lit with viridescent flames, adding an eerie and unsettling aura to the bedroom. You sat up, wincing. You felt a small prick against your calves.

You lifted the covers to reveal your leg. It was bandaged neatly and elevated on a small throw pillow. Your eyes drifted to your clothing. In exchange for your cloak and travelling ensemble, you wore an oversized silk dress shirt. The hem barely covered your knees while its sleeves extended to your thighs. It was comfortable nonetheless.

“You’re awake.”

You were alive.

You hugged your legs and nodded sheepishly. There he was, an angel. Your savior set down a tray at the nightstand.

You stared into his eyes. Though you were certain that this was not in the afterlife, this man was an angel. No doubt about it. His presence said it all. It radiated power. He was ethereal. He had long ebony locks and porcelain skin. His eyes were akin to emeralds. He stood tall, towering over you with his arms crossed and a faint pout evident on his lips.

“Well, Child of Man?”

You broke eye contact.

“Child of Man,” he said.

“Hmm?”

“Perhaps you would regain your focus if you help yourself to some hazelnut soup,” he gestured to the tray.

You peered over his figure to examine the foodstuff. He saved you, treated your wounds, and now he offers to feed you. Truly, he was a seraph.

What could you possibly do to repay him? Did he desire compensation? Although you were hungry, guilt swelled in the back of your mind.

“It’s edible. The fair folk have a reputation for being terrible cooks, but I assure you that the fire fairies in my castle are well immersed in human cuisine,” he said.

“Fae?”

“My, you /are/ a lost little lamb, aren’t you?”

“I don’t follow.”

“Do you know where you are?”

“Wonderland. A forest.”

“Anything else?”

“The White Rabbit said something about a tea party,” you said.

He straightened his posture and bowed.

“So you are the Hatter’s guest. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. One moment please. I won’t be long. Help yourself to the soup in the meantime. I know the fire pixies won’t be pleased if you let it grow cold,” he said, walking out of the room.

Hatter? Fire pixies?

His footsteps echoed throughout the hall. You stared at the tray. Alongside the ceramic bowl, there was a small dinner roll, a side salad, and a cup of tea. You clutched your stomach as it growled.

You swung your legs over the mattress and let them dangle off the bed. Your eyes trailed down to the ornate carpet. You were famished. The man did tell you to eat. It would be rude not to comply with his request after he nursed you back to health.

You bit your lip as you reached for the tray, setting the cool metal surface onto your lap. You took the spoon and raised it to your lips, blowing the ribbons of smoke away as if you were making a dandelion wish. You wrapped your lips around the utensil, taking in the soup’s warmth. It was rich, sweet, and  creamy with an earthy undertone. A sigh escaped your lips.

“Not bad, I presume?” your savior chuckled.

You flinched. He had returned.

He received a hum of affirmation in response. With that, he pulled a wooden chair from the bedroom’s study area and placed it beside the bed, directly in front of you. He sat down, crossing his legs. He opened up a leatherbound book, raising an eyebrow at you. You nervously grinned and fiddled with your thumbs. It was a decent sized book, not too large, but not too small to be a novella either. It was worn and torn around the edges though its gold detailing on the spine was still prevalent.

He met your gaze then snapped his fingers. Your eyes widened as the tea cup on your tray multiplied into two and the contents changed from a murky green to a cozy brown. They then lifted themselves off the tray and waltzed in the air for a few moments before stopping on their own saucers at the nightstand.

“I heard chamomile tea calms the nerves… for humans, anyway. I do love the flavor of it as well. Would you like one lump or two?”

“Are you not human? And two please.”

He blinked. The sugar cubes sunk to the bottom of your cup.

“I am affiliated with the fair folk,” he said.

He waved his hand around, dismissing the fact that he had summoned another teacup along with matching saucers and sugar jar and changed the teas with the snap of his fingers. Having been in this wonderland for a while now, you were familiar with magic. The possibility of fair folk couldn’t be ruled out, but you had never considered much about their existence until now. Then again, you didn’t know what night creatures were either until recently.

“Who are you?”

“A fae who happens to live in these parts and nothing more,” he said.

“And nothing more… then do you have a name?”

“You may call me anything you’d like. I do not have a preference. Names are merely labels no?”

“I suppose so.”

“There once was a little beastie that called me Tsunotaro. You may call me that if you’d like.”

“Tsunotaro?”

“Yes, I’m quite fond of that name too. You remind me of them therefore I shall allow it.”

“Alright then.. Tsunotaro.”

The light in his eyes faltered. He turned past the title page.

“And what do I call you, lost little lamb?”

“(y/n),” you said curtly.

“(y/n)... I like that,” he whispered softly, “Well, then (y/n), welcome to the Tugley Woods. We are in the northern part of Wonderland. It’s a hub for mana which draws in a plethora of characters such as merfolk and beastmen. Are you familiar with mana? It’s essentially a life force used as a catalyst for magic.”

You hummed along to the inflections of his voice.

He continued: “Perhaps you encountered some paragons of mana on the way here. Or wherever your destination was. They’re troublesome bunches, really. They have their own territories. Anything that trespasses those borders is beyond my control, even as the Prince of Thorns, I—”

You fidgeted with the sheets, a minute action and yet the fae’s eyes peeled up from the book.

“Does the origin of the woods bore you?”

You shook your head, “Not at all. I’m just having difficulty visualizing the entire forest and the factions. It must be vast.”

The fae grinned. With a flick of his hand, he conjured green flames within a furnace, illuminating the side of your bed with a faint yet welcoming warmth.

He rose from his seat, edging the covers, ushering you aside as he climbed into the comforters. He shifted around. Once he was satisfied, he propped open the book, continuing on with your history lesson. There was a large map sprawled across the thin pages. The words were racked from Tsunotaro’s memories.

You leaned on his shoulder. He was oddly warm despite his pale, lifeless complexion. Tsunotaro’s voice soothed your soul, spelling away all your fears— no matter how grand or horrible they may be.

“The West is guarded by the beastmen. They aren’t aggressive when you cross borders, only when you mess with their prey. They congregate here due to their affinity towards the mana here.”

Malleus pointed at the map. His fingernail made the book sound hollow.

“This allows them to use their magic easily as the area’s terrain is filled with sand and earth magic despite being surrounded by trees. You could say the same for the merfolk in the East as well. Except that area consists of woodlands with a large loch in the middle. The loch is deeper than it seems. It leads to the Coral Sea, I believe. The ‘monsters’ —”

“Why must they be monsters?”

“Aside from their appearances, the beastmen and the merfolk are experiencing a mana drought as of now as a majority of the magical energy here has ceased over the years. The ley lines have been exhausted due to constant irrigation and migration of the forests’ inhabitants. Nowadays, they attack travelers, driven by their hunger and thirst for mana to strengthen their magic and sustain their own livelihoods. Aside from them, there’s also night creatures. Those were the wolves that attacked you on the first day. ”

“And what does that make you?”

“Certainly not a monster if that is what you were implying. The fae generate their own mana. In fact, this castle is fortified with mana spun on a single spinning wheel. This prevents attacks from the other night creatures,” he said.

“That does not make the others monsters if they were merely trying to survive.”

“Did they not attack you on your journey?”

“They did, but it was the wrong timing. Besides those were wolves, I’m sure the factions have their own reasons.”

“Touché, Beastie,” he said.

Tsunotaro glanced upward.

“Oho?”

“I suppose they all have their reasons. As you said, they might just be doing so for their survival. Though the fair folk could never empathize with them, we are typically not shackled by the limits of age nor are we familiar with death. We create our own mana and we seldom consume food for survival, only pleasure.”

“I see…”

You yawned. He placed a slender ribbon in between the worn pages of the book. It clapped into place as he set it on the nightstand.

“Perhaps I’ve said more than a beastie could handle. Nevermind that. The chamomile must finally be settling in on you.”

For a mere moment, his eyes flashed into silts and glowed. Your lids were heavy.

“Rest well, Beastie—  for you have a long journey ahead of you.”

He rose from his seat, striding towards the door. The candles’s flames extinguished as he walked past them.

“You too, Tsunotaro.”

The fae halted.

“Yes… thank you, Yu—,” he paused, “(y/n).”

He sighed.

“Thank you, (y/n)” he said.

[tahitianmangoes]

The Beast in Me - Chapter One

Pairing(s): GN!Reader/Arthur Morgan  (Minor: John/Abigail, Kieran/Mary-Beth)

Summary: You never thought you'd be heading home to the ranch but after your father passed away and leaves the ranch to you, that's exactly where you find yourself. Nothing much has changed about Strawberry or the surrounding areas since you left... Apart from the rumours that there's something lurking in the woods. Something that isn't an animal at all...

Tags/triggers: Werewolf AU, Not canon compliant, gender neutral reader, mild gore, mild horror

Notes: All 3 parts available on AO3 

The beast in me Is caged by frail and fragile bars Restless by day And by night rants and rages at the stars

 ****

 You had never cared for scary stories, ghosts, ghouls and the like. You weren’t scared of things that go bump in the night and didn’t believe in the local gossip of creatures that would snatch up children who played too far from the town or strange sounds from the mountains. Ghosts and ghouls didn’t exist. People do.

**** 

Daddy had never really been the same since mama passed. He took it hard, real hard. You visited him twice a year if you could find the time but he wasn’t the same man who had raised you.

Maybe a part of him died when your mama had. And now the rest of him had died too.

Consumption, the doctor had said over the telephone; he’d hidden it pretty well from you, just telling you that it was the cold getting to his chest and you’d believed him or maybe you had wanted to. You knew he hadn’t wanted to worry you. The doctor said he had passed in his sleep. The ranch hand had found him the next day. It had been peaceful, apparently. You sure hoped so.

So you quit your job in Saint Denis and took the long train ride back home. Autumn in Lemoyne was very different to that of West Elizabeth. The days were still hot, the sun seemed merciless sometimes but as the train rattled into Riggs Station, it felt like you were in a different country. Night was drawing in already; it always seemed to draw in faster out west. You could feel the chill of wind that swirled around your feet and the few leaves left on the trees rustled melancholically.

There was no one else left on the train by now, most people had gotten off at Valentine so only you headed into the wood cabin that was the station, a far cry from the bustling Saint Denis station.

The clerk was busy lighting lanterns as you had walked in but he greeted you all the same. “Good evenin’. Can I help you?” “Yeah,” you replied, “do you know when the stagecoach will arrive?” “Arrive?” The clerk repeated, sounding confused as he went back behind the counter. “Well it just left not fifteen minutes ago.” You sighed before asking when the next one would come. “Not til tomorrow mornin’ I’m afraid. Where do you need to go?” “You know White Bison Ranch?” “Sure, I know it - out by Little Creek River... Wait! Are you takin’ the place over?” You nodded. You’d hoped to get there before it got too late but it looked like that wouldn’t be happening now, the sky was already bleeding black, like ink onto parchment. “Well I’m sorry, there won’t be nothin’ til the mornin’.”

“I could take ya.”

The new voice made you turn, startled. There was a man sitting inside the cabin that you hadn’t noticed. He stood as he spoke to you. “I can take you as far as Strawberry if that helps?” “It’s certainly better than sleeping here tonight.” You replied and he smiled. The man was tall and slender, his hair dark and down past his collar, his eyes a glittering hazel and kind. The left side of his face was scarred, as if he had been in an animal attack but it didn't make him any less handsome. He held out his hand to you. “John Marston.” You shook his hand and reciprocated his greeting with your name. “I’m waitin’ on a delivery from Blackwater, shouldn’t take too long now then we can get you to Strawberry.” He told you. Just as he said that, a wagon pulled up and a man hopped down, “Mr Marston? I have the medicines you ordered.” “Thanks,” John said gruffly, taking the parcel from the man almost furtively. You followed John Marston around the side of the cabin to where his buggy was. He put the parcel in the back then helped you with your luggage and then you got up on the buggy with him.

You made your way to Strawberry, the buggy trundled along the uneven road that you hadn’t been down in such a long time. “I’m sorry to hear about your father.” John said, “he was a kind man. Me and my boy, Jack helped him out with the lambing just this spring gone by.”

“Thank you... “ you replied. You felt guilty that you hadn’t been there to help; once upon a time it would have been you to help with the lambing though you remembered being squeamish at the sight when you were younger. You weren't no rancher, at least you thought you weren't. As soon as you had reached eighteen, you had left home in search of a better life and more money than what a dairy could get you. You’d headed for the bright lights if Saint Denis, not only was it as far away from the ranch you’d grown up on physically but in every other sense. The people of Saint Denis were nothing like those of Strawberry or the surrounding areas and you liked that.

You never thought you'd be going back like this but of course you had known your daddy couldn't keep on at it forever. You were the sole benefactor of the ranch and everything he had worked for his entire life… Which wasn’t a lot but it was enough for you to be able to leave your job in Saint Denis and come back home.

Home.

It felt alien. Yet as you neared Strawberry, nothing had changed that you could see. All the buildings and the people… Everything looked the way it had the day you had left.

When you reached the Strawberry hotel, Mr Marston stopped the buggy. “Here we are. I wish I could extend my hospitality to you more but I have to get home. I got my boy and my wife and my brother… He ain’t a well man and I need to help take care of him... We own the stables just outside o’ Strawberry, maybe when you’re settled in you could stop by?” “I’d like that very much. You’ve been very kind, thank you Mr Marston.” You got down from the buggy and so did he, he helped you with your luggage again before tipping his hat to you, bidding you good night and riding away.

The hotel was warm, walls were deep burgundy and a large fire was cracking in the main room, casting large, looming shadows. You weren’t keen on the taxidermied animals that were displayed everywhere, a buck, a mountain lion and most prominently a large grizzly bear that stood behind the main doors, staged reared on its hind legs with a mean look on its face.

The clerk was friendly enough and luckily there was a room available for you. “You came from Saint Denis, you say?” The clerk asked as he helped you upstairs with your luggage and showed you to your room. “That must have been one hell of a journey. Why don’t I get a bath ready for you?” “Sounds good,” you smiled.

The bath was hot and just what you needed after a long day’s travel. Once cleaned and dressed, you headed back downstairs to see if the hotel offered food. The clerk told you they did and you ordered and waited towards the back of the main room which now had candles on every table.

Towards the front of the room were two well dressed women sitting across from each other on plush sofas smoking and talking. “You tell me then, Willamina - What did Mr Jones see when he was out night fishin’ at Owanjila Lake?” One said a little hotly to the other. The one called Willamina laughed, “Mr Jones was three sheets to the wind, Francesca. He probably saw a wild boar or a buck and tried to save face when he came tearin’ back into town, scared like a little kid to his momma! What was it he said? Eight feet tall? Red eyes? Claws as long as butcher knives?!” Francesca bristled, “well, you won’t catch me going into the woods on my own, that’s for sure!”

“And rightly so, Miss Alehart,” came a man's drawling voice.

You’d been looking away, staring at the front of a newspaper that had been left on the table pretending to read it but really, listening in on their conversation but now you looked up. A man you couldn’t say you’d noticed had joined them, hovering by the sofas. He was tall, dressed in black aside from his hat which was cream, maybe in his early forties and had scraggly blond hair.

“You shouldn't go into them woods without precautions.” He told Francesca and Willamina, speaking each syllable of the word precautions quite deliberately as he reached down to his gun belt and drew his revolver quickly, aiming at the taxidermied bear in the foyer and mimed shooting it, “ya never know what's a-lurkin' out there… waitin’ for you…”

“Oh Mr Bell!” Willamina exclaimed, “don’t be so dramatic.” “Oh I ain’t being dramatic,” Mr Bell replied, his voice low and almost taking on a sultry tone. “The things I’ve seen out there,” he said gesturing to the door of the hotel, “why... It would make your blood run cold. O’ course, I could always help keep you safe… if you ever needed protection’.”

You could feel the atmosphere turning very awkward very quickly. You glanced over again. The two women had gotten to their feet “We’ll let you know if we ever need a man of your specimen to protect us, Mr Bell. Good evening.” Willamina said coldly. With that, they left the hotel.

Mr Bell didn’t seem too concerned and chuckled to himself. You were aware of his icy blue eyes on you from under the brim of his hat but you ignored him. At that moment, the clerk appeared with your dinner and you made small talk with him to keep Mr Bell at bay.

 ****

 The next morning you took the stagecoach to the ranch where you were due to meet Kieran Duffy, the ranch hand who had been helping your daddy out over the last few years. It felt strange coming back to the ranch after all this time. You remembered the trail as if it were only last week that you had ridden it, even some of the trees seemed the same and the way the trail dipped here and there had a comforting familiarity about it.

The stagecoach pulled up to the mouth of the ranch and Kieran almost ran out to greet you. He was a skinny man, with wide, light eyes peering out beneath the wide brim of his hat. He shook your hand enthusiastically, “your daddy was always talkin’ bout you. It’s a shame you didn’t get to be with him in the end… proud man your daddy, didn’t even want to accept my help even when he couldn’t walk but three steps without needin’ to rest!”

Maybe Kieran could see that he’d been a little insensitive because his eyes widened further still. “I… I uh… He was peaceful at the end.” The doctor had told you that much. You smiled weakly at Kieran, aware that it may come off as more of a grimace. He did his best to smile back. “Why don’t I show you round? Must have changed a bit since you was last here.”

It hadn’t, it really hadn’t. The house and barn still looked the same, even down to the same white paint peeling from the exterior. Kieran showed you the animals, sheep and a few dairy cows and around the back were chickens. "Mr Watson Jr from the general store comes by on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays to collect eggs and milk,” Kieran explained.

By the side of the house was a small stable with a couple of horses inside, a palomino morgan named Cash and a black and white appaloosa called Domino. “They’re both fine horses. Cash is better for shorter distances but Domino is better for longer hauls and doesn't scare so easily,” Kieran said, patting them both fondly on the muzzle before giving each a sugar cube.

Sat on the porch was a fawn coloured chesapeake bay retriever who perked up when it saw Kieran approach. “This is Bran, he’s real good at keepin’ foxes and greedy coyotes away from the chickens.” Bran barked playfully at this, as if he understood what Kieran was saying. Kieran leaned down to scratch the dog behind the ear before looking back up at you and swallowing, “uh… I... Maybe you’d wanna take a look in the house by yourself?” You nodded at him. “Thank you, Mr Duffy.”

That smell. The scent of home knocked all the air out of your lungs and filled you from top to bottom and edge to edge. Autumn leaves, wood shavings, something warm that you couldn’t quite place. Home. Your home. The home you had grown up in and then eventually left.

It was silent inside. Still. You could hear the clock ticking in the kitchen. Outside Bran barked again. You felt comforted yet also like you shouldn’t be there, like a trespasser. Your fingertips glided along the wooden bannister as you ascended the stairs and looked in your old bedroom. A knot formed in your chest when you saw that it had been left exactly the way it had been when you left for Saint Denis almost six year ago. Your bed was freshly made, as if it had been expecting you to come back some day. And now you had.

You swallowed as you crept back down the corridor and towards your parents room; the room the doctor had informed you that daddy had passed in and the same room mama had passed in eleven years prior to that. For one fleeting second, you thought, maybe you would die in here too. You shook the thought away. Silly.

The windows of the bedroom were open and the cold breeze ripped through the room so much so that you shivered. Folding your arms across your chest, you went back downstairs and outside to Kieran who offered to help you unpack.

You soon discovered that Kieran Duffy was a kind and sweet man. He lived just outside of Strawberry with his wife. He talked about her a lot, real proud of her, said her name was Mary-Beth and that she wrote novels. You were glad of his chatter, the noise filled the house and it felt less empty. Soon enough however, the night was drawing in again and he told you he had to head home.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said, an element of a question in the statement, “that is if you still need me to help out with the animals and such?” “Mr Duffy, what I know about caring for these animals can be written on a cigarette box. Of course I want you to come back tomorrow!” Kieran’s boyish face lit up and he smiled, “then I’ll be here bright and early. Good night.”

Kieran mounted his own horse, a flaxen Tennessee Walker and trotted down the path of the ranch and into the woods out of sight.

You managed to get a fire going in hearth in the living room, the crackling was comforting and reminded you of when you were little; you’d sit on daddy’s knee while mama embroidered and he would read to you - all sorts of stories about princesses and princes, about magical fairies or witches and people who lived on the other side of the world who spoke completely different languages. When you settled yourself in front of the fire, Bran padded over and lay down. He gave a big sigh and fell asleep. You smiled, “me too, boy, ” you said to him quietly, “me too.” **** Maybe you’d become too accustomed to the city. The wheels of wagons and horses hooves clattering on stone paths, people shouting and calling to each other and the whistle departing trains was something you could, and regularly did, sleep through but the silence of the woods was too loud. Eerie and almost frightening. You tossed and turned in your old bed, unable to drift off into a sleep that lasted more than fifteen minutes. Outside you could hear elks crying and the creaking of the trees that swayed in the wind. Animals chirped and screamed and you were reminded of those times that you were afraid as a child. You used to go into your parents room and whimper, “I’m scared..!” Your mama would laugh, “don’t be silly, sweet thing. You’re safe in here with mama and daddy.” She’d send you back to your room and you’d curl up under your blanket with your eyes squeezed tight shut, somehow the sounds from outside were louder than before. But you knew your mother must be right, she always was. You were safe inside.

It was around three o’clock in the morning when you awoke to a sound. This time it was different. It wasn’t just the scurrying of an opossum or a racoon, not even a coyote. You found yourself compelled to swing your legs out of bed, bare feet found the cold wooden floor and you walked across the room to look out of the window so you could see the rest of the ranch.

The animals were in the barn so the fields were empty. You could see the fence and the opening of the ranch, you could just make out the trail past that but the looming trees beyond that made it impossible for you to make out anything else. Maybe a flicker between the branches but maybe that was your eyes. You were tired.

You couldn’t hear the noise now, wasn’t even sure what you had thought you might see. Maybe a fox or even a wolf. You remembered there being all sorts of animals when you were younger, you’d even seen a bear running across one of the fields early one morning after daddy forgot to take in some honey mama had ordered from the general store.

Maybe you’d dreamed it. It had been a long few days. You lay back down but didn’t sleep until the sun began to filter its way through the window.

 ****

 Kieran was a great help. You had milked the cows before but even then it was something your daddy and the ranch hands dealt with more than you. You collected the eggs and fed the chickens while Kieran milked the cows and mucked out the barn. You felt bad but he said he didn’t mind, it’s good honest work and the barn wouldn’t muck itself. You supposed he was right.

“Say, Mr Duffy,” you said to him once he was done and the pair of you sat on the porch together drinking lemonade that you had made that morning for lack of being able to sleep, “you said Bran took care of the foxes, right?” “He sure does,” Kieran replied. “Just foxes?” Kieran half shrugged, half nodded, “sometimes coyotes. He had a cougar once but I think that was a fluke… He’s good with pests, too. Rats and the like.” “Ever anything… bigger?” You asked cautiously. Kieran thought for a moment, “I can’t say so.” His large eyes met yours, “you worried about the animals at night?” He asked, “'cause that barn is secure, I swear it. Mr Marston from the stables and his brother came and did a fine job with it. It was half fallen down before then!” You nodded. “Well it's comin’ into winter soon,” Kieran said thoughtfully, “so yer won’t have to worry so much ‘bout the likes of bears - not that you see ‘em that often no more down this way. All these new ranches and houses goin’ up... The bears have gone further into the mountains. They’s more scared of us than we is o’ them.”

You nodded. You supposed that much was probably true. You also supposed that you had just been tired the night before.

Even so, it didn’t stop you from taking daddy’s old rifle down from above the fireplace. It was rusted and looked a little worse for wear. You’d never shot a gun before, never really had to but maybe it would give you peace of mind to have a gun ready. Just in case.

The next day, you rode Cash into Strawberry, your daddy’s rifle stowed on the side of Cash’s saddle. You'd forgotten how pretty of a town Strawberry was, like something drawn on a postcard. You hitched Cash outside the general store, you remembered coming here with your mama when you were younger and buying the groceries. The store had been run by an old man named Mr Watson and sure enough when you entered the store he was standing behind the counter, like he had never left. To say you were surprised to see him was an understatement; he had seemed impossibly old when you still lived in Strawberry and now he seemed even older.

He was speaking to another man who stood at the counter, “here’s everythin’ you ordered Mr Morgan. It’s good to see you out and about again, you feelin’ better now?” My Morgan, who still had his back to you, shifted awkwardly; he was a tall man, his back and shoulders broad, you could see that he wore his sandy coloured hair long. “Yeah,” he replied gruffly. “And how’s the rest of the family? Mr and Mrs Marston? And little Jack?” Mr Watson asked, smiling kindly at Mr Morgan. “Fine.” Mr Morgan replied rather bluntly. “Well you take care now,” Mr Watson said as he handed Mr Morgan his items, “come back soon, I do enjoy our chats.”

Mr Morgan permitted himself a laugh at this, short and more of a bark. The effort made him cough, though. He turned from Mr Watson, covering his mouth as he coughed. It sounded bad and you found yourself wincing as a visceral reaction. His eyes met yours, brightest blue, like the skies of your childhood summers. He was handsome enough, his features angular yet not unapproachable.

“‘Scuse me,” he apologised to you, not making eye contact and moved away from the counter. Mr Watson greeted you then his eyes widened, “my my! Is that who I think it is? Last time I saw you… Well it’s been years!” He beamed at you, “you back to take over the ranch?” He asked and you nodded. “I am so sorry ‘bout your daddy. Fine man, he was. He’ll be sorely missed.” “Thank you, Mr Watson.” “What can I do for you?” “I was hoping you could help me with this…” You put the rifle on the counter. “It belonged to daddy, I think it’s pretty old but I just need it to shoot.” Mr Watson’s white eyebrows shot up to his hairline, “my word,” he chuckled, “I don’t think I’ve seen one of these since the war. Sure don’t make ‘em like they used to! You’re right, it certainly is an old rifle indeed… I don’t think I stock the cartridges for this particular model any more, I’m afraid.” You sighed. “You could always try the gunsmith over in Valentine,” Mr Watson suggested. Valentine was at least the best part of a day’s ride away. It seemed like an awfully long way to go in the hope that the gunsmith there might have the right cartridges for daddy’s old rifle…

“Sorry, I couldn’t help overhearin’...” It was Mr Morgan, he had been checking through the parcel Mr Watson had handed him. You turned to look at him, able to search his face now. His complexion was ashen and while his eyes were certainly striking, they were also bleary. He looked exhausted. “Can I see the rifle? I might have what you need. You passed the rifle to Mr Morgan who inspected it. “Could do with some cleanin’,” he muttered to himself, “but it ain’t in too bad condition…” His voice was low and rough but has a strange kind of softness to it.

He looked up at you, eyes an arresting contrast to his pallid skin. “I reckon I might have some cartridges lyin’ ‘round if you want ‘em?” “Really? That’d be mighty helpful of you.” “I’d be glad to help you out. Your daddy was a good man. I’m Arthur Morgan by the way.” He extended his hand and you shook it, introducing yourself. “I got a few errands to run but I could always stop by the ranch this afternoon if that’s ok with you?” Arthur suggested. “I’d really appreciate that, thank you Mr Morgan.” He smiled at you now and his face changed, he looked lighter, younger, eyes crinkled at the corners. You smiled back. “Then I’ll see you this afternoon.”

You picked up a few things from the store before leaving. Once outside you packed Cash’s saddle bags and fed him a carrot in preparation for the ride back to the ranch.

“Didn't I see you in the hotel the other night?” The voice made you start and you couldn’t help but gasp and recoil away at the man who stood behind you; he had blood slicked all over his hands, down his jacket and even some flecks on his face. You recognised the face, the ice blue eyes and the straw-like blond hair.

“Didn’t mean t’ startle ya. The name’s Micah Bell, I was in the hotel the other night and remember seein’ ya. You takin’ over the White Bison ranch?” You nodded hesitantly. “I’m sorry.” Micah Bell said though he didn’t sound the least bit apologetic, “I’ve been out huntin’ y’see," gesturing to the blood all over him. “That’s the game, huntin’. You saw the bear in the hotel foyer? I killed that one. Supply almost all the meat here in Strawberry, too.” You nodded again, not sure what to say to him. You unhitched Cash and began to walk him away from the store, towards the north exit of Strawberry. Micah followed.

“So you’re up at White Bison Ranch, huh?” He asked you, speeding up to match your pace. You nodded a third time. “How you findin’ it out there on your own?” Your brows knitted together slightly into a frown, “just fine.” You replied a little bluntly. “I’m only askin’ because there’s been a few people round these parts sayin’ that there’s something livin’ in the woods. Something that ain’t no animal.” Your frown grew deeper. “Not an animal..?” You repeated almost to yourself rather than Micah. “O’ course, I don’t believe that,” Micah chuckled, “you gotta be insane if you think there’s some beast runnin’ around in these woods. Probably a grizzly or a big cat and I’m gonna be there to get it.”

You stopped a little past the sheriff’s office and looked back at Micah. His eyes were piercing and you couldn’t maintain eye contact with him, feeling like he was looking right through you.

“So what’s the fuss about a bear or a big cat?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at Micah. “There’s been predators out in the woods ever since I was a kid and even since before then… What’s so different now?”

Micah’s lips twisted into a smirk, as if he had been waiting for you to ask that. “Real weird things been happenin’.” He said, a tinge of excitement to his tone now, “first it was animals that started goin’ missin’ a few years back - a chicken here and there or maybe a family dog and everyone just assumed it was coyotes. Then some little housewife over past Diablo Ridge said she saw something a-sneakin’ into the barn one night, took her husband’s shotgun and went to see what it was… She swore it was a monster, at least eight feet tall and covered in thick black hair with glowing red eyes.” Micah laughed at the expression on your face. “Horse shit, of course! But since then, everyone wants to see this creature. Plenty of people claimin’ they have but I’ll believe it when I see it stuffed and mounted on my wall.”

“Well it’s been nice talking to you, Mr Bell.” You lied as you pulled yourself up into Cash’s saddle. “I have to be heading back now.” Micah’s smirk hadn’t faltered throughout your entire conversation. “If you ever get lonely up there, you can always come and find me.” He said, “or if you just want someone who knows how to handle a gun.” You hesitated before answering. “I’ll bear that in mind, Mr Bell.”

You rode Cash at a leisurely pace, not wanting to rush back because you wanted to think about what Micah Bell had said to you. You were familiar with people in town gossiping, wild stories spinning out of control like Chinese whispers, usually cautionary tales to stop children wandering too far from their mothers or going into the woods alone. You felt better knowing that Mr Morgan would be coming along later with the rifle cartridges.

Kieran was taking a break when you got back. He stood up when he saw you coming up to the house where he was sitting on the steps eating a sandwich Mary-Beth had no doubt made for him. He waved enthusiastically at you. “How was town?” He asked you, helping you unload Cash. “It was… Interesting.” Kieran laughed, “Strawberry? Interestin’?” You laughed too and carried the groceries into the house with Kieran behind you. He helped you put things away. “Oh!” You started as you remembered, “Mr Morgan will be coming later on today.” “Arthur Morgan?” “Yeah.” “Kinda… Surly lookin’ feller?” “Yeah.” “Hmm.”

You turned to look at Kieran who was looking thoughtfully at the can of beans in his hand. “Is… Is Mr Morgan… Bad?” You asked, feeling a bit silly to ask such a childish question but you didn’t know how else to ask it. Kieran chuckled. “No. I don’t think so. He’s just… Not a sociable person, is all.”

You were certain that this was true but it wasn’t always fair to judge a book by it’s cover.

Kieran was busying himself with the horses in the stables while you were going through some of daddy’s things in the house. You had asked Kieran if there was anything you could do to help him but he seemed capable enough of doing it all on his own and if anything, you were more of a hindrance.

It was around three o’clock when a silver dapple pinto Missouri foxtrotter made its way up the trail towards the house with Arthur Morgan astride it. You hadn’t forgotten about the handsome stranger who was coming to visit you and went out onto the porch to greet him.

The afternoon had turned colder than the morning despite the sun being high in the sky and Arthur was now wearing a longline olive coloured woollen coat and around his neck, he wore a black neckerchief. As he greeted you, you could see his breath in front of him. “Mr Morgan, thank you for coming!” “Of course,” he said to you, he looked a little better than earlier. “Why don’t you show me that rifle again?” You guided Arthur back into the house, the rifle was lying on the kitchen table. Arthur set a heavy leather satchel down on the table with a clunk and took out a few things - some boxes of cartridges and gun oil.

“It needs a decent clean before you load it up and go shootin’ at muskrats,” Arthur joked and you smiled. He showed you how to take the gun apart and how to clean it. “It needs regular care, think of it like brushin’ your horse.” Arthur pushed the rifle towards you. “Why don’t you try.” You cleaned the gun carefully and Arthur watched you. “Heard you met my brother John the other day,” Arthur said. You hadn’t been sure from the conversation you overheard in the general store whether John was Arthur’s brother or not but this confirmed it. They didn’t look alike at all, John was much leaner compared to Arthur, even their faces were completely different - John had sharp features and suspicious eyes. Arthur, while not the conversationalist had a certain warmth about him that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“He really helped me out when I got here,” you replied, “took me to the hotel in Strawberry, otherwise I’d have been stuck at the station all night.” A smirk tugged at Arthur’s lips, “that sounds like John.”

Once the gun was cleaned, Arthur showed you how to put it back together. “You know how to shoot this thing?” You felt a faint blush play across your face and you shook your head in response. Arthur laughed softly, “I got some time before I gotta get back… I could show you, if you wanted?” “Only if you’re sure.” There was that smile again. “I’m sure.”

The pair of you walked out to the fields in front of the house.

“You gotta stand straight and hold steady.” Arthur told you, “you gotta focus, breath slow and always pull the trigger on empty lungs.” “You sound like a seasoned gunman, Mr Morgan.” You said, you felt your heart flutter a little. Were you flirting with him? “Somethin’ like that,” Arthur murmured. “Here, let me show you how to hold it properly.”

 You spent the next hour or so shooting at a few empty bottles that you had found lying around as target practice. You took it in turns, Arthur demonstrating then your turn. By the end of it, you had hit maybe two bottles celebrating each time by hopping around with joy while Arthur chuckled.

The sky had turned a pumpkin orange and the sun had started to dip below the treeline, casting large ominous shadows across the field. Kieran had rounded up the remaining animals into the barn.

Arthur turned to you, blond hair looking golden now in the dwindling sunlight, “I really must be going now.” “Why- why don’t you stay for dinner?” You found yourself asking and you had no idea why. You had no plans for dinner but you were sure you could rustle something up. “That’s mighty kind of you but I don’t wanna intrude on your hospitality any longer.” “You wouldn’t be intruding at all, Mr Morgan. I insist.” “My brother will be expectin’ me back. I should go but thank you all the same.” Arthur said, his voice soft but also firm.

You suddenly felt very silly very quickly, a hot wave of embarrassment washed over you and you wished you could evaporate. “Well... Thank you for today. You’ve been very kind and I appreciate it.”

He tipped his hat to you and went to his horse. You watched him mount it, swiftly kick his heels into its side and trot away towards the trail.

You didn’t know how long Kieran had been watching but he smiled weakly at you as you walked dejectedly back towards the house with the gun slung under your arm. “He ain’t the most sociable,” Kieran said with a hint of ’I told you so’, “but he ain’t a bad man. You sighed. “Yeah, I guess.” Soon enough Kieran was telling you that it was time for him to get home, too and you were left to spend another sleepless night in the ranch house. Completed fic on AO3

[ka-za-ri]

Descent Pt. 10 (Finale)

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚  IT’S TIME.

Hello! I would honestly really like to thank every one of you who’s read this and encouraged me during this long ride! It’s been a wild one and it’s been an honor to share this smutty smut fest to you all. I’m a little sad that it’s over, but hopefully after some time away from writing this fic I’ll come back and write one last bonus chapter. Because what’s my writing without boning a demon amirite?

Chapter Index and Obey Me! Masterlist: here Ao3 Mirror: Here Part [1] Part [2] Part [3] Part 4: [4] Part [5] Part [6] Part [7] Part [8] Part [9] Part [10]

  Pairing: Simeon x Reader Genre: Angst, fluff, smut Wordcount: 7,100 ish   Tags: Angst, Fluff, Smut Summary: Accepting and confronting feelings come with the consequence of a fall.

Fall

You had fully intended to go home as usual after a session with Simeon. Even if the post coital cuddles were much desired and needed, he always kept business and personal relations separate. You knew better than to get too attached to the warmth and comfort of his embrace. It pained you to know he would always approach your relationship with a cool detachment and you expected things to be the same as usual this time as well.

The endorphins of such an intense session sedated the both of you, letting you fall into a comfortable doze for a bit. Simeon clung to you as he slept, rousing you from your slumber more than once as his arms wrapped around you tighter. He whimpered from time to time, twitching and clutching you tighter as if you could drive away whatever bad dreams he had. It was strange to see him so possessive, not that you minded. Even if it was only when he slept, he was at least comfortable enough around you to let down his guard a little bit. By the time you needed to leave and catch the last train home, his limbs were tangled with yours and there was no way to move without waking him up.

“Simeon, I have to go…” You protested, trying to pry yourself from him.

He groaned and only pressed himself against you more in his half-asleep state. “No.” He whined.  “Stay the night, please. I don’t want to be alone.” His voice was surprisingly quiet and it cracked at the end of his plea.

Your heart skipped a beat at his sudden confession and any desire you had to leave immediately disappeared. “Okay, okay. I’ll stay.” You reassured, patting his arm and his hold on you relaxed just a bit.

Simeon sighed in content and took in your scent when you agreed to stay. His breathing stuttered for a moment as he savored your warmth next to his own. In a rare moment of vulnerability, he allowed himself the chance to indulge in a show of affection. Normally, he would have brought up his walls and politely seen you off. Yet, something prevented him from doing that right away this time. Likely, it had to do with the burning feeling that settled in his chest earlier when he saw you being fucked by Lucifer. The image and the feeling refused to go away, causing him to be needier than usual.  

He couldn’t go back to the way things were before when he was simply asking you to do things for the sake of his book. It was impossible to deny that he had budding feelings he needed to confront. The consequences of being too deeply involved in the human realm laid heavily on his shoulders and he didn’t want to think about them when he had you in his arms. He need to recenter himself and stay rational while he tried to figure out a way to reclaim who he was before this all happened. To do that, his feelings had to be carefully locked away. Wearily, he brought up the walls around his heart once more even though your close proximity threatened to tear them down at any moment.

You turned over to look at him and noticed he still had the collar on. Carefully, you helped him out of it. Unbuckling the ornate clasp was surprisingly harder than you anticipated, especially since you didn’t want to hurt Simeon. When it was finally pulled away and thrown to the side, it was hard to not notice how he skin of his neck had been rubbed raw from receiving such rough treatment throughout the night. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, tentatively tracing the tender skin and he winced at the touch.

“Don’t be. I’m alright. I promise.”  He reassured, but there was no conviction behind his words. He pulled away from you, ignoring the throbbing around his neck from where the collar had sat for so long.

You decided to leave the issue for the time being. Simeon wasn’t a stranger to harming himself, the long scars on his back was proof of that. Why he thought such self punishments were necessary were beyond your comprehension and you couldn’t begin to think about how to comfort him whenever this habit of his came up. You only had a few canned, rehearsed words that everyone had been taught to say and countless empty promises that you could never keep. You wanted to believe he would reach out for help if he needed it; however, if you knew anything about Simeon, it was that he would never say what he wanted.

“Shall I draw you a bath?” he asked quietly after a long lull of silence. He was staring at a point just past your head, in a daze and not quite focused as he normally was. As if he noticed how zoned out he was, he blinked and made proper eye contact with you. “I’m sure you’re tired, and it’ll give me a chance to change the sheets so you don’t have to keep sleeping on the mess I made.” He smiled softly, already in the middle of getting out of bed to start running the water.

There they were again. Those walls you worked so hard break through had been rebuilt in the short time you had been nodding off in his arms. When you weren’t fully focused on him, he was pushing you gently to the side, distancing himself and the cool detachment was more than a little depressing for you. It felt like with every time you got him to open up, the more he closed off his feelings. You thought you had gotten somewhere when he asked you to stay, but it seemed to be a temporary lapse.

He beckoned you to the bathroom shortly after, the tub was already half full and you could smell the jasmine oil he had put in there to help ease the aches and pains away. If anything, you thought he deserved a bath more than you did, but he was adamant about attending to your needs first and foremost. “Please take as much time here as you’d like. I’ll get a robe for you in a bit.” He turned to take his leave but you stopped him, holding onto his hand and tugging him closer.

“Won’t you stay? You need to get cleaned up too, don’t you?”

He smiled, though the emotion didn’t reach his eyes. “Unfortunately, the tub is not large enough for two.” He reasoned.

Before you could further insist that he stay by your side, he was already through the door and off to change the sheets like he said he would.

You sighed, knowing you weren’t going to get anywhere else with him for the night and slipped into the bath. The hot water did wonders to your sore muscles. Whatever he put into it only aided in relaxing you to a point where you were quickly dozing off in the bath. Your mind was much more active than your body, replaying all the events that lead up to this moment. From the first hesitant time in that sunroom all the way to the moment he surrendered his body to you, your relationship and your feelings for him had only deepened.

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you as you mulled over the discussion you had with him so long ago, going through the things he was comfortable with doing and what he absolutely refused to do. Somewhere along the line, you had pushed aside his boundaries in pursuit of getting what you wanted out of your agreement. You ended up assuming that he desired you the same way you desired him. Upon this realization, it was no longer a wonder why you were being politely pushed away.

You lost track of how long you had been in the tub. Your disheartening thoughts pulled you down a deep rabbit hole where you analyzed every moment you shared, wondering where you had gone wrong and when you had become so inconsiderate. Your mind ran in circles while your body slowly shut down from exhaustion.

Simeon thought you died in the tub when he found you. Your torso was practically hanging out the side of the tub and you didn’t respond when he called your name the first time. To say he was relieved when he saw you twitch slightly after he called you again would have been an understatement. He sighed softly, setting the robe he brought in to the side and gently propped you up. “Come now, Little Lamb. You’ll catch a cold if you sleep like that.” He chided.

You blinked, clearing your bleary vision and grumbled at him, brushing his hands away. “Just a few more minutes.” You whined.

“The water is no longer warm, you’ll get sick if you stay in here any longer.” He was insistent, half dragging you out of the tepid water much to your dismay.

Simeon wrapped you in the largest towel he had, smiling softly the whole time you were turned away from him. The fluffy bath sheet smelled of lavender and something else you couldn’t quite place, but it was a familiar scent. You clearly did not seem to be in any state to properly care for yourself and he took it upon himself to properly dry you off. It wasn’t often he got to dote on you in the way he wished, and it seemed the only time he would get the chance was when you were barely conscious after being fucked out of your mind.

Seeing you barely able to stay on your feet, Simeon almost carried you back to bed. Stay distant. Do not meddle any further. Though he knew he was likely too far gone to return to the Celestial realm with any sort of good grace, he childishly thought it might not be too late to rectify his wrongs.

He took you by your hand, lead you back to bed and tucked you in. It took no time at all for you to fall asleep on the newly changed sheets. You hogged a majority of his pillows and the blankets, but he didn’t mind. Only when he was sure you were soundly asleep did he allow himself the chance to shower off the worst of the fluids which had caked themselves onto his skin. As he watched the water swirl down the drain, he wonder if he really stood a chance against Lucifer’s wiles and seduction. He couldn’t get the image of you being taken by another man out of his head no matter how hard he distracted from himself.

That dull, burning feeling spread across his chest once again. The ache of yearning for something he could never have consumed his being. And as the conflicting emotions warred within him, he sank into the corner of the shower, letting the water pelt at him until it ran cold. Even then, he didn’t feel like he he had the energy to drag himself out of the shower. The moment he left, he knew that he would need to decide between his devotion to you or to the…

~~

Gods were known to be all benevolent. He had experienced and executed the outcome of such goodness to many before. He thought, perhaps the gods would remember his good deeds and forgive his few misgivings in the human realm. After he finally pulled himself off the chilled floor of the shower and got dressed, he reached for the rosary tucked in the back corner of his night stand and knelt in reverence to the Heavenly bodies above.  

For the first time in a very long time, Simeon prayed before going to sleep. He pleaded for forgiveness and mercy. He prayed for a sign to save him from his inevitable fate somehow. Kneeling on the hard floor, he hoped his words could invoke the infinite benevolence of the Celestial realm to save his soul. He recited prayer after prayer, hoping that those above could excuse his lapses of judgment in his assignment to observe and understand humans. He was wrong, he had known that since the first time asked for your help. He had been so naive and confident, he had somehow lost his way.

Simeon had been so sure he could have anticipated the moment of his fall. He could have sworn all he had to do was abstain from defiling you. In his prayers, he apologized for being so simple minded, he confessed to the countless sins he committed onto your body without having tainted you. He had foolishly trusted himself too much and ended up falling for you in a way that was equally taboo.

Love.

He omitted his feelings from his prayers. If the other angels were watching, surely they would already know the truth behind his actions. It was all rooted in an intoxicating addiction to the temptation that was you. Outside of all the lewd acts, he adored you, cherished you and deeply wished he could give you the world on a platter if only he was allowed the chance to.

Yet his pride stood in the way. His stubborn need to cling onto what the Celestial realm deemed as divine kept him from sacrificing everything. Simeon hoped that his prayers would be heard as he implored the powers that be for forgiveness. If he received an answer, he could turn back. There was still time. His knees ached as he recited prayer after prayer. He hummed hymns and sang praises in a futile attempt to curry favor in his direction once more. He stayed in the corner of his room until the pain of kneeling became too much.

Ha, I must be getting old. I used to be able to do this all day...

He shouldn’t have been surprised when there was no reply from the heavens. It seemed that he was already beyond salvation in their eyes.  

If he had been a stronger man, he would have practiced decorum and slept in a separate room, or at least on the floor that night. However, Simeon was weak; weaker than he had ever thought he could be. His muscles and joints felt like they creaked when he finally got up and made his way to bed.

He was careful not to rouse you when he crawled feebly under the sheets and laid next to you. He could hear your deep breathing and the light snore coming from you as you slept soundly. Curling his body behind your own and wrapping his arms around you felt so right. Whatever resolve he had for keeping human temptations at bay dissolved as soon as you were in his arms and his own breathing evened out. The gods above had forsaken him, there was nothing left but to embrace the beautiful dreams that came whenever he was with you.

He would see you off in the morning, tell you how much he appreciated you and how much fun he had the night before. In a rare show of affection, he kissed your cheek and hugged you tightly before you set off for the day. He kept everything cordial and guarded his feelings close to his chest while you were still around him. As soon as you said your farewells and walked through his door, he felt his whole world fade into a grainy shade of gray. With every step you took, the color evaporated from his vision until there was nothing left but a dull monochrome.

Alas, it seemed the most disgraceful thing to the gods was the feeling of…

~~

Falling in love with Simeon was not something you expected when you first met him. Your intial impression when you first met him was that he did not fit your mental image of an author. You had expected someone much mousier and less refined. That first meeting changed your life. Not only did it begin your career, but it also planted a seed of affection deep in your heart for a soft spoken, eloquent, beautiful person. Pushing your feelings to the side had been easy enough in the beginning, you could pretend your infatuation was because of how star struck you were to work for the Christopher Peugeot.

Of course, you were young and naive to have thought those emotions would go away with time. Those budding feelings only took root and spread into what they were today. You were obsessed and hopelessly in love with a man who would never open up to you.

In the following days after you left, Simeon continued to distance himself. You didn’t blame him. You had a fair amount of thinking to do on your own. Life carried on as normal, or as normally as it could when there wasn’t a book being written. Simeon had requested a well deserved break from writing in order to brainstorm his next bestseller. There was the obligatory call that you had to make at the beginning of his break to ensure he would have something to present once his little vacation was over; but outside of that, you left him alone. It was likely for the best. Your one way infatuation with him had become an unhealthy obsession as of late and the distance would allow for you to properly sort your thoughts out.

You picked through a few freelance offers to edit short stories during the lull in your main work. It was boring and tedious, but it kept food on the table and your bills were paid on time. The shorter length and the sporadic nature of such work meant you had much more time to dwell on your thoughts. Without any outside influences like a nosy bartender or an overly familiar CEO, it was easier to sort out your feelings for Simeon and figure out how you wanted to proceed the next time you had a chance to meet him privately.

The fact that he still most likely had that chastity cage on his cock was not lost to you. Every time you thought about it, a pang of guilt ripped through your chest. You had done a fair number of things to push his boundaries and you couldn’t blame him if he hated you. There was a hollowness in his voice when he saw you off that rang in your head. You always thought his eyes had a bright life and joy to them, but if you thought too much about that day, you could recall how dull and dark they were even when he smiled.

You hated to think that you could be the reason why he was like that.

You wanted to contact him and maybe discuss things between the two of you, preferably without Lucifer. Your feelings and infatuation was with Simeon and no one else. After days of contemplating the events of your last session, you came to the conclusion that whether or not Simeon would fuck you was a negligible aspect of your relationship with him. You needed to stop pushing him and let him come to you when he was ready. Sure, it was frustrating when he didn’t express his needs, but you never considered that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t comfortable enough around you to do so.

He trusted his body to you. Upon reflection, it felt like you had taken everything he gave you for granted. The importance of his actions and words were all disregarded in favor of what you wanted. The guilt of such neglect ate at you from the inside. Now, the least you could do in repentance was respect his wishes and his need for space. You had expected him to reach out to you once his break started, but it had been a dead radio silence ever since he announced it. You worried about his well being constantly, checking your phone as soon as you woke and right before you went to bed for any messages. You caught yourself mindlessly refreshing your phone for hours on end, hoping that he would be the first to contact you.

Nothing.

Then again, you shouldn’t have been surprised when there was no reply to your wordless prayers.

The pain of distance you experienced now was a necessity. You needed to accept that and practice patience if you wanted to have another chance to make things right. The heartache from being so far apart for so long ate away at your soul, but you knew it was something that you deserved it. Day by day, as you continued to wait patiently, the color in your world drained away into a grainy shade of…

~~

Grey skies were common at the end of winter. They fit well with his outlook on life these days. Simeon walked a lot, now. He let his feet wander and take him to no goal in particular. It was an odd sort of meditation in a way and it let him clear his mind in a way that his home could no longer do. Every surface and corner of his abode reminded him of you. Getting out and breathing in the crisp, cold air cleansed his mind and his lungs.

He’d wander until he couldn’t feel his legs or his nose. At first, the cold winds whipped and cut his skin, making his lips crack and bleed if he spent too much time out. However, he got used to it quickly. The mixture of pain and peace brought him a calm that couldn’t be achieved elsewhere. He loved the soft quiet that came with snow. It muffled the sounds of the city as well as the sounds of his heart beating. The peaceful atmosphere soothed the frazzled edges of his mind and amplified the hollow feeling of loneliness in his chest.

Simeon didn’t take a heavy coat with him whenever he went out. A sweater was sufficient for his needs. He may or may not have received odd stares, but he couldn’t be bothered. None of those people mattered to him anyway. He only sought the approval of two beings and one of them had turned their back on him when he begged for a bit of forgiveness.

Winter was letting up slowly, giving way to chilly rains which soaked him to the bone whenever he took one of his long walks. He usually didn’t mind it, but when the rain became a downpour, he had no choice but to seek shelter somewhere until the worst of the storm was over. Looking at his surroundings, he could have laughed when he saw his feet had somehow taken him all the way to your neighborhood.

He had maybe visited you a handful of times since he first met you. It wasn’t often he got a chance to go see you considering your work revolved around him. He wanted to see you, he wanted to hear your voice and hold you. That desire was enough to make him take a step towards your door. As he got closer, he could hear a part of him tell him to turn away before he fell any deeper for you.

Unfortunately for that rational part of him, falling didn’t scare him anymore. With the Celestial Realm averting its gaze from him, he was free to accept the darkness that he willingly cultivated within himself. If anything, it meant he was allowed to feel something besides emptiness. He didn’t deserve the chance to see you again, but it did nothing to stop the desires

Simeon was knocking on your door before he realized what he was doing. His body seemed to move on its own when it knew you were close. You drew him towards you like a moth to a flame and he would be forever entranced by you. As your door opened, a gust of warm air washed over his body and the gray world around him shattered into a thousand brightly colored pieces. “I… I’m sorry, I just didn’t know where else to go.”

His voice sounded foreign to him, the most familiar thing he knew was your soft expression as you lead him indoors away from the cold.

“You’re lucky I was in the middle of getting a bath ready.”  you said as you hurriedly shuffled his soaked frame to the bathroom once his shoes were off. An inviting tub full of steaming hot water was waiting for him when you finally got him through the door of your bath room. He took a deep breath and the scent of sandalwood and oranges filled his lungs. He recognized it as the scent that always lingered on your clothes over your perfume. Just having his senses filled with something that reminded him of you warmed him much more than the balmy temperature of the bathroom.

“I think I have something that might fit you, if not I definitely have a robe.” you mumbled to yourself, already pulling out a spare towel out of a nearby cabinet for him. “Just leave the wet clothes on the floor, I’ll throw them in the wash for you when you’re done.”

You scurried off to dig through your closet in search for spare clothes, leaving him to him to his own devices. Simeon sighed, smiling for the first time in what felt like weeks. Finally seeing you in person, he needed to accept just how much he missed you and just how whenever you were around, his world was…

~~

Colorful clothes of all sorts were strewn across your bedroom floor as you tried to find that over-sized sweater you swore you saw just the other day. You didn’t want Simeon to wear just a robe, the one you owned was likely too small for him, but it looked like you wouldn’t have a choice in that matter considering you didn’t think anything else you owned would fit him.

He had appeared at your door like the answer to your prayers. You were getting antsy from the dead air between the two of you and it had been shaping up to be another day of listlessly staring at your phone while you waited for a message. With the storm brewing outside, you had fancied a nice long bath to combat both the cold and the dreary weather. Just as you were ready to hop in, you heard the knocking at your door.

Seeing Simeon so drenched and pitiful broke your heart. It didn’t matter why, or how he had arrived at your abode, you immediately dragged him to the bath as soon as you could. He clearly needed it more than you. It also meant he deserved much better than a too small robe to wrap himself in after he was done soaking. Unfortunately, it seemed like there would be no other options considering you couldn’t find that damn sweater you were thinking about.

Tiptoeing back to the bathroom, you knocked softly before cracking the door open. “Hey, I found a robe, it… just might not fit you, sorry about that.” you apologized, feeling like a terrible host. You stuck your hand through the crack and laid the robe on the sink, ready to slink away and let him have his space. Even if you wanted to be near him, you needed to remind yourself that he would approach you when he was ready, you couldn’t rush or push him more than you already had.

You grew concerned though when he didn’t respond to your intrusion. Curiosity got the better of you and you pushed the door open a bit more to see if he was alright. The sight you were greeted with was not what you expected, to say the least.

Simeon sat in the tub, staring blankly at the tiles in front of him. He looked like he was in a daze, barely aware of his surroundings. Most concerning of all was the fact that he hadn’t even bothered to take his clothes off. He was still wearing the rain drenched sweater and faded jeans he arrived in.

“Simeon?” You called out to him, quietly padding closer to make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep. He turned sluggishly and gave you the barest nod. The bright blues of his eyes was so dull and dark, you worried he had somehow gotten sick in the short time you had left him on his own.

Kneeling down next to the tub, you peeled off the sodden sweater off his torso, tossing the thing into the sink before looking down at his jeans. He didn’t say anything to you as you went through the clinical actions of stripping him for the sake of his comfort. Your hand brushed against the metal bindings around his cock and he let out a hiss, the first indication that he was really aware of what was going on around him.

“Simeon, are you--”

“I’m fine.” he cut in. “I’m fine.”

There was no conviction in his voice as he tried to reassure you. He repeated those words over and over again as if they were a mantra, mumbling them under his breath. “I’m fine...”

His voice cracked when he looked at you, unshed tears being barely held back. No matter how much he told himself that the Heavens didn’t care and all he had to do was just accept the fall, he couldn’t shake off the fear of the consequences. There you were, inches away from him, calling for him as if you could hear his desperate prayers for salvation.

If the Heavenly Father would no longer listen, he at least had you. With you, any consequence was bearable.

“I’m fine. As long as I’m with you...” He whispered, pulling you closer to him for a slow, tender kiss.

When his lips met yours, a warmth blossomed throughout him. The hollow ache in his chest was immediately filled with a pleasant fluttering that spread through his limbs. Your unique aroma overpowered the perfume of sandalwood and oranges in the water. The cloying combination made him dizzy and drunk with his affection for you. The smell would forever be connected to the last temptation that made an angel fall.

His cradled the back of your head as he kissed you like it was the first time. The taste of your lips was sweeter than the ripened celestial peaches that immortals coveted so much. He breathed out slowly through his nose before taking a deep breath, filling his lungs with the smell of love and his impending fall from grace.

You moaned softly against his lips, gasping for breath from how tender yet passionate it had all been. He took that moment to swipe his tongue across your lower lip before delving into the caverns of your mouth and deepening the kiss even further. The sounds Lucifer elicited from you would be nothing compared to the songs he would get you to sing under his touch.

When he finally broke the kiss on his own terms, your lips were swollen and glistened with his saliva. The light in his eyes had returned and you noticed the familiar hard glitter of desire in them. He pulled you into a tight embrace, half dragging you into the tub with him to kiss the rest of your face and whatever skin he could get access to. You squealed in surprise, stumbling to keep your balance and pressed yourself against him. His breath was hot against your ear as he continued to press his lips everywhere he could. “I… I want you… Will you have me?”

You could barely believe what you heard. You wanted to pull away and look at him properly, but his embrace was strong and held firm. The kisses he laid on your skin traveled down your neck and you held back a shudder when he brushed across a sensitive spot. “I… is this what you want?”

“More than anything.”

He let you have a bit of distance so you could look at sincerity in his expression. There wasn’t a hint of hesitation in his voice and the glitter of desire in his eyes had changed into a bright flame of lust. There was no way you could deny such a request. You had been waiting for him to say those words for so long. The weight of guilt on your chest crumbled away and there was nothing but elation left. All the anxiety, all the waiting, all of the trials and tribulations was so worth it for the moment he earnestly asked to be with you.

“Then you shall have me.”

The smile that spread across his lips was surely divine. No one should be allowed to be as beautiful as he was. Simeon could barely believe you had agreed. He knew he didn’t deserve you; but now, he had all the time in the world to persuade you otherwise. Heavens be damned, he loved you and he had the freedom to show you exactly what that meant to him.

Removing your partially wet clothes felt like unwrapping the best present in the world. He felt like he was truly seeing you for the first time. He memorized every detail of your body with his lips, followed by his fingers. Your soft, breathy moans would be emblazoned in his mind for the rest of his life as the most holy of hymns.

He was loathed to be separated from you for any amount of time; but your knees were beginning to ache from kneeling, your position was less than ideal, and the tub was much too small to fit both of you. Begrudgingly, he let you go, only to usher you to your room with a gently wave of his hand.

“Just a moment, Little Lamb. I will follow shortly.” He reassured, his voice syrupy and low. The promises that it held sent a shiver down your spine. You hurried to the room as he directed, eagerly divesting the rest of your clothes as soon as you got the chance to.

He arrived in your room shortly after as he promised. The robe you had given had been unnecessary as he opted to have a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. Even then, that was about to be a frivolous exercise in modesty as he tossed it to the side the moment he saw that you were also nude. In the dim light of your room, the metal cage he so obediently wore glimmered and the familiar feeling of guilt rushed through you.

You beckoned him over to you and you swore he purposefully put a little extra sway in his hips as he approached you. The bed dipped with his added weight and you immediately pulled him into another round of slow, sensual kisses. Now that there were no clothes in the way, you were free to explore his body just as much as he did to you.

It felt like a dream to share your bed with Simeon. You had only fantasized about the possibility of something like this happening. The moment was made more magical knowing he sought you out. He had been with you enough times to know exactly where to touch you in order to draw a moan from the back of your throat. However, there was a sort of intimacy this time around that couldn’t be denied. “Wait… Wait...” you breathlessly put a pause on everything to rummage through the drawer of your night stand.

Pulling out the tiny key to the lock on the cage, you were quick to undo the damned thing and toss it to the side. It had seemed like a great idea at first when Lucifer subtly suggested it, however it had brought nothing but anguish and guilt in the end for you. You were glad to be rid of it, the accursed thing clattered to the ground as you carelessly tossed it to the side before refocusing on the man before you. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long now...”

“And I’ve wanted you for so long.” He replied smoothly, pushing you down onto covers and resuming his ministrations. Having his cock freed from those dreaded confines meant he was free to take you as he wished. His resolve wouldn’t waver, not when he was already forsaken and he was staring love in the face. He felt like he was being reborn every with every second that passed.

Simeon’s knee pressed between your legs and you eagerly spread yourself wider for him. He contemplated for a brief moment the idea of burying his head between your legs and tasting you until you were a shivering mess from his tongue. However, the need to sate himself and lay his claim in you overrode his desire to tease you.

His hands smoothed down your thighs before he hooked your legs around his waist. “I want you. I want you. I want you so much.” He leaned forward to kiss your neck, your chest, your collarbones, your shoulders, everywhere he could get access to before his patience snapped and he finally, blissfully pressed the tip of his cock to your entrance.

Simeon took his time, watching your expression change as every inch of him sank into you. He let out a long, guttural groan when he finally, blissfully, bottomed out inside of you. You were his sun, his moon, his stars. You were all that was good and was divine to him. He would happily desert the kingdom of gods to make you his paradise. Without you, he wouldn’t have fallen. Without you, he had no reason to live.

“Oh God, Simeon.” You whined, your eyelids fluttered as he filled you. You knew he would have taken his time, but you didn’t expect him to slide in so excruciatingly slowly. He made your body feel every ridge and vein of his cock, forcing it to memorize his shape and size, molding your cunt to fit him and only him forevermore.

“There is no God, there’s just me.” He seethed at the mention of the Heavenly Father. “There’s just me and you, and what I’m going to make you feel.”

Simeon was everything you had imagined he would be and more. He was so attentive, sweet and he knew just how to make you moan. His cock hit every spot within you that made you see stars. Though the pace he started off was languid and slow, he was quick to pick up speed when he saw just how positively you reacted to deeper and harder thrusts. It seemed like he effortlessly had you clutching onto the sheets below you and crying out for him.

“Mine.” He growled, slamming his hips into you. “Mine.”

He wouldn’t let anyone else interfere. He had made his decision and he would make sure that you could never desire anyone else ever again. His kisses turned into bites, leaving intents and marks across your body as he laid his claim. He gave everything to be with you and the feeling of being so intimately connected with you was divine.

The way you moaned his name as he railed you was unlike any other. It was his name that fell from your lips. Not some other man, not some unintelligible babbling. You were calling for him every time his cock slid home and filled you to the brim.

His desire to see you dripping with his seed only increased every time you begged him to go harder. Simeon was more than happy to comply with your wishes, letting the sound of skin slapping against skin echo in your room. The smell of sandalwood and oranges was soon overtaken by the scent of sex as you met every one of his thrusts with a roll of your hips.

Sweat plastered his hair to his face, his breath came out in heavy pants and he could feel how close you were to your climax every time you clenched around his length. “Ah, Little Lamb, will you cum for me, soon?” He asked sweetly against your ear.

“Yes, soon.” You confirmed, wrapping your legs around him tightly, urging him to keep going. Finally being filled with him was an absolutely transcendent experience that you wanted to last forever. You were afraid that the moment it was over, he would once again return to holding you politely at arms distance. It all felt like a dream to you and you didn’t want to wake up. “Fuck, Simeon! Ahhh~”

It seemed as though your body had other ideas. With how Simeon rubbed against your inner walls, you couldn’t last for the eternity you wished for. You screamed his name as your climax overtook you, the edges of your vision going white from the intensity of it. Frantically, you pulled him towards you for heated kisses as you rode out the high of your orgasm. Your walls fluttered around his cock, milking him encouraging him to follow you into bliss.

He wasn’t far behind you. The way you pussy hugged him and pulled him even deeper into you was all the encouragement he needed to finish the deed. His pace stuttered and he rammed himself home, once, twice, thrice before holding your hips still as he spilled his load into you.

Outside, the rain storm had turned to snow. A quick, bleary glance over at your window and you could have sworn the big, fluffy flakes looked like thousands of white feathers falling from the skies. Simeon groaned in content and exhaustion, feeling the last vestiges of what divinity he had leave him only to be replaced with an all consuming devotion to you.

He collapsed gracelessly on top of you, unwilling to depart from the warm confines of your pussy as he reveled in the feeling of his fall. You caught him him, cradling him against your chest and waited patiently for him to ride out his own high. “I love you.” he murmured softly, getting up just enough to kiss your forehead softly.

“I’ve wanted to hear you say that for so long.” You admitted, your cheeks warming at the affectionate gesture. “I love you, too.”

“Say it again.” he demanded, kissing your forehead again. “Say it again and again and again. Never stop saying it.”

“I love you.” You reiterated, giggling and rolling over so you were laying on his chest. “I love you, I love you.”

“And I love you, my Angel.”

The descent to Hell was a long one, but as long as you caught him when he Fell, it was worth it.

[vonahalv]

The Mystery (part 3/?)

Later that same day...

“Jewel.  JEWEL.  I can’t get the door and carry you.  Open it for me.”  Coming out of her reverie, Anjewel apologized.  “I’m so sorry Finn! It must be the pain. I was lost in just trying to stay awake.  I hear that when you’re dreadfully hurt you shouldn’t fall asleep.”  As she was offering up this explanation, she opened the door and took in her surroundings while Finn walked her in.

He sat her gently on a chair and went to the check in counter.  Finn was speaking low, but she heard snippets of the conversation, including a note that the doctor was out for lunch and would be back soon.

The door opened again and Anjewel took a look to her left.  She felt the look of shock on her face and worked quickly to turn it into one of pain.  It’s HIM.  How terribly lucky.  I hope to never tire of saying that. It’s the only way I can stay in this line of work.  He walked past Finn and nodded to the receptionist.  The draenei is good. He showed no acknowledgement of knowing Finn, and Finn is oblivious right now.  Interesting.   Just then she heard Finn gasp.  “My gold pouch!  Jewel, I was going to cover this, but … well… I just had it.  Do you think someone in the crowd?  This is horrible!”

“It’s ok Finn.  I can handle it.  She looked past him to the receptionist and held up a coin.  “Why don’t you go see if you can find it? We haven’t been gone long, and I’m certain a good citizen has held onto it for you.  I can manage now.”  He nodded, replying, “Yes. That’s a good plan. I’ll be back for you soon.”  After Finn left, Anjewel stood and limped around the office looking at the paintings on the wall. 

It didn't take long for the receptionist to call her and Anjewel made her way to the indicated door down the hallway. Working to keep up the charade, Anjewel limped slowly placing her hands along the wall. Occasionally she would hit the wall just a little too loud, listening at the same time to see if there were hollow noises coming from the wall. She opened the door that had been indicated and saw the draenei sitting behind a desk.  He motioned to an examination table and moved to meet her there.

Anjewel closed and locked the door behind her.

The moment he got up from his chair and walked away from the desk, Anjewel was behind him.  She had pulled her daggers from behind her back, and she now had one touching his lower back, Is this where the kidneys are? I should remember…. and another held to his throat. 

“Two things, Doctor.  I’m not hurt.  And if you tell me the truth, you won’t be either.  I saw you exit from the Slaughtered Lamb.  I assume you hold a measure of power.  I’m holding the Fangs of the Devourer.  Fangs I took from Akaari Shadowgore.  Do you think you’re more powerful than Akaari Shadowgore?”

She felt him swallow as his tendrils pushed against the dagger in her hand.  “I’m just a middle man.  I hold the meetings because the Master cannot come to Stormwind. No one knows who I am, and I know only how to play a part.  My business is not doing well since the Uncrowned began taking a cut, and I’m working to supplement my income.”

She pushed the dagger against him a bit more, drawing some blood from his back.  “The meeting today with the man who brought me in. I want to know.”

Beads of sweat began to pour down his face, and yet she noticed his body wasn’t as tense as it should have been had he really been frightened.  “He was tasked by the Master to remove a support beam for the First within the Black Harvest.  For years he has been a friend to her sister and agreed to separate her.  I believe he’s been killing her ex-boyfriends and blaming the First, all in an effort to breed distrust.  He confirmed today it was done, and thus received his payment. He was set to simply watch her now until further notice.”

With each word, Anjewel’s mouth grew dryer and dryer, her feet threatening to give out from underneath her - for real this time.  The draenei felt his opportunity and pushed against her, his thick tail attempting to sweep her legs as he caught her off balance.  Anjewel called upon the Fangs and disappeared into shadow.  Her world slowed down and she jumped.  From above him she could see him turn in fear and dart for his desk.  I hate this part. Why do they try?

As she made her way over him, she released the shadow and fell onto his back - daggers plunging into soft flesh.  Yup, it was the kidneys. Good to know.  He screamed in agony as the poison entered his body. Grinning, she twisted the daggers further into him.

“I guess you didn’t know who Akaari Shadowgore was, huh?”  And with that, she dropped a dagger, grabbed a tendril, pulled back his head and slit his throat. 

Waiting to ensure he was dead, Anjewel slowly became aware of noises in the hallway, raised in concern, and heard the voice of the receptionist growing closer.  “Miss Black, Miss Black - is everything alright?”

“Yes Evette, thank you.  Call the cleaning crew would you?  I’m afraid the doctor made quite a mess of my ankle and there is blood just everywhere.  He’s gone and fainted and might need some attention himself.”

She didn’t need to see it to know that Evette would get the patients and their doctors or nurses back in their rooms and help keep them calm.  This was a place of professionalism of course. The Uncrowned, of which she was a part, would always ensure a professional atmosphere. But now I need to do something about this ankle. By the Light. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.  This strange litany passed through her as she clamped down on the leather handle of her dagger, stood on the desk and stepped off.  Moving her ankle at the last second, it hit hard and she heard a crack.  

Dragging herself to the medical table, Anjewel climbed up, put her daggers away and waited.  Soon, Evette entered, followed by an Uncrowned physician.  “What do you think doc? Does it look bad?”

After a short examination he replied, “You did a pretty good job.  Nice angle, clean break.  We can make the cover story work.  You’ll need to do a thorough write up on why you killed a staff member though.  In the meantime we’ll arrange for him to go missing.”  So many are missing lately. And now this one is mine. “You’ll be off your feet for several weeks, so I’ll put in a notice that you’re to be disqualified from mobile work.  Though maybe we can arrange for some stakeouts.”

“Understood.  I’ll write Valdis and see if she’s up for some family time.  And perhaps I can get Finn involved. Would you mind hand delivering a letter to her? It’s urgent, and it’s related to the debrief I’ll be giving later.”

Evette nodded and brought in some writing supplies. As the physician, John, worked on her ankle, and Evette worked to clean up any blood that found its way on Anjewel, she wrote:

“Dearest Emerald,

I was badly injured today, and if not for the swift assistance of my favorite physician, I don’t know if I would have managed.  I am told I cannot work and need round the clock aid for a short time.  Please tell me that my dearest person is available to console me and bake me my favorite cookies.  I think I may have figured out your secret ingredient and know just where you can get some at this time of year.  This messenger is known to me and will await your response. I have not yet received a response from my last letter, and if you have not yet crafted one, I beg you answer me in person.

Love,

Ruby”

Finishing her letter, Anjewel turned to Evette.  

“Evette, Valdis is cautious and I have advised her you will wait.  If she requires proof, mention that “the Ruby misses the Sapphire”. She will know you are known to me and should trust you.”  She turned to the physician.  “John, would you mind getting me out front before Finn is back?  I don’t need him trying to come back here to comfort me.”

Anjewel had just enough time to grab a seat, tuck her daggers away and smooth her hair before Finn walked in the door.  The look on his face was all she needed to make this hellscape of an afternoon better.  “No luck then Finn? I’m so sorry.”

She almost felt as if he cared for when she saw the look on his face as he took in her appearance.  He tried to take me from Valdis. He worked to undermine her and bring harm to her. It doesn’t matter what it looks like. Murderous rage flowed through her and she struggled to hold on.  Cleaning up one death would already be tough enough to do, and she didn’t care to explain two.

[dipplie]

This is how I cope don’t @ me

1: Top 3 pets you wish to have Bunny, Mouse, pet bee 2: Top 3 Disney Movies Tangled, Zootopia, and a close tie between The Princess and the Frog and Wreck it Ralph 3: Top 3 OTPs Nick and Judy (I’m not a furry), honestly probably the other pairings from my 3 (4) favorite movies like Felix and Calhoun or Tiana and Naveen or whatever 4: Top 3 pick up lines Pick me up- no literally please just carry me around like sweep me off my feet no like ACTUALLY like ju- 5: Top 3 summer activities Lying in the grass, listening to music on the swings, drinking from the neighbors sprinklers because you didn’t bring water on your walk 6: Top 3 school memories    -Once in 5th grade we were doing an egg drop, and I put mine off till the day before, so my parents just gave me a jar of peanut butter, and I just put the egg in the jar, and when they dropped it from the school roof it exploded all over the pavement and left a stain for years.    -Another time in 9th grade, a couple friends and I wrote a giant “send nuds” in the snow beneath my friends next class’s window, and some other kids took a picture of it and spread it around, and like the whole school was talking about it for a day or two (though we denied it was us so we didn’t get in trouble).    -And in 12th grade the last day of the 3rd semester, my AP Psych teacher said “you know you guys might not come back after spring break since the covid-19 virus might come to America.” And half the class was like: “I hope so we don’t have to come back haha.” And then we went into lockdown for a year 7: Top 3 things you find attractive Being looked at, Being talked to, Being touched at all oh my go d 8. Top 3 shops I dunno man can I say Build-a-Bear Workshop I’ve never been there 9: Top 3 romantic dates Theme park, Aquarium, Build-a-Bear Workshop 10: Top 3 drinks Milk, Milkshakes, the color purple 

11: Top 3 spices/herbs oh my god im too white for this question I think doritios are spicy, SALT 12: Top 3 apps to use not tumblr 13: Top 3 months of the year not winter 14: Top 3 clothing items Skirt, Bows, Thigh-highs 15: Top 3 kinds of flower Daffodils, Buttercups, Dandelions (yes I’m aware they’re a weed) 16: Top 3 Christmas movies Home Alone 1, Those stop motion rudolph ones, the original grinch 17: Top 3 things you don’t/Won’t miss Angsty middle schoolers, Angsty high schoolers, Angsty people 18: Top 3 games Minecraft, Stardew Valley, All the Zelda games between 2002-2009 19: Top 3 binge perfect tv shows I really don’t watch actually T.V. shows I just watch anime sometimes maybe and youtube series man 20: Top 3 kinds of candy Butterscotch, Chocolate coins, Those little pebble chocolates that looks like fish tank rocks 21: Top 3 ways to exercise/be active Well I have an answer, but I don’t think I can say it~ 22: Top 3 spirit animals (I’ve heard something about this being possibly racist so I’ll approach this wish caution) Bunnies, Lambs, a pet rock 23: Top 3 petnames Honey, Muffin, Sweetheart 24: Top 3 places you’ve been to A yearly carnival my old town had once a year, Disney World even though I almost drowned there, The Arcade in my old town called Bananas 25: Top 3 most used websites Youtube, Tumblr (regrettably), Pintrest 26: Top 3 people you last texted My boyfriend, my friend, my co-worker friend 27: Top 3 hashtags you use imagine using the tags how they’re supposed to be used 28 Top 3 items you can’t leave the house w/o clothes (i’m really funny) 29: Top 3 guilty pleasures I write self-insert sometimes I guess 30: Top 3 subjects of study/classes to take Psychology, Sociology, certain art classes 31: Top 3 things to draw/doodle My OC’s, My friends, inappropriate stuff 32: Top 3 aesthetics Cottagecore, Bloomcore, Wonderland 33: Top 3 things you’d buy if you gained three million dollars Pretty things, Cute Clothes and stuffed animals, therapy 34: Top 3 ways to treat yourself Buying pretty things, Wearing cute clothes and holding stuffed animals, therapy 35: Top 3 cartoon crushes Kyoya from OHHC, Mako from Kill La Kill, Marceline/Marshall Lee 36: Top 3 things to do in the snow Draw in it, make snow sculptures, eat it 37: Top 3 accents to hear Russian, Spanish, idk spanish 2 38: Top 3 scents Vanilla, Cream, Strawberries 39: Top 3 things to do in the rain Sit in the car quietly, make out probably, cry 40: Top 3 cupcake flavors Chocolate, Chocolate 2, Chocolate 3 41: Top 3 fruits Cherries, Strawberries, Grapes 42: Top 3 holidays to celebrate Halloween, Christmas, Valentines 43: Top 3 embarrassing moments My friend jokingly revealing my weird self insert fanfic I wrote in middle school (that was gross don’t ask about it) to my friend group, getting a constant D- in AP Stats the whole semester and the whole class secretly knowing about it, wearing an oversized minecraft shirt in my 6th grade school picture 44: Top 3 crayola colors Seafoam, Canary, Cotton Candy 45: Top 3 things you hope to accomplish in college Get back into theater and actually be included and noticed, not cry in the bathroom, feel cared about by my classmates 46: Top 3 fanfictions you’ve read don’t ask me that you can’t ask me that the last fanfics i’ve read were in middle school  47: Top 3 people you miss right now My boyfriend, Two of my friends GJ, my dopamine  48: Top 3 fears Being hated, Being alone, Being abandoned 49: Top 3 favorite literary devices (oh god it’s been a minute hang on) Alliteration, Juxtaposition, Colloquialism 50: Top 3 pet peeves Saying one thing and doing another, trying to act like you’re being the bigger person by not choosing a side, constant self deprecation 51: Top 3 music artists AJR, 3OH!3, Fake Type 52: Top 3 bad habits BFRD OCD, speaking before I think, lately I’ve been lashing out  53: Top 3 ice cream flavors Cookie Dough, Bubblegum, Cheesecake 54: Top 3 meals you love Bread and cheese, cheese with bread, I like dairy and bread 55: Top 3 things you want to say to someone in your lifetime Where are we going, What are we gonna do, what are you doing onii-chan (im so sorry) 56: Top 3 dog breeds Small, fluffy, actually a cat 57: Top 3 TV shows from your childhood The Amazing World of Gumball, Courage the Cowardly Dog, y’all remember Might Bee??? 58: Top 3 languages you speak/wish to speak Better French, More ASL, I guess Spanish would be useful 59: Top 3 series (book, movie, television) I like the first couple Saw movies but then it went kind of downhill, I eventually stopped keeping up with SU ad AT but they have lesbians now and we love that, and I guess I read Warrior Cats in middle school. 60: Top 3 pizza toppings Cheese, ???, that’s all I need 61: Top 3 youtubers you’re subscribed to Markiplier, Erolds Story, Wilbur Soot 62: Top 3 tattoo / piercing ideas Little Flower earrings, Little flower tattoos, Little flower stuff 63: Top 3 awards you want to win love trust and affection  64: Top 3 emojis 🍄🐝🍋 65: Top 3 things you’d do differently have different parents 66: Top 3 places to be in the world In love, Back up, Purgatory  67: Top 3 things you miss about being a kid Lack of responsibility and pressure, Mental illness, Lack of shame 68: Top 3 baby names Penelope, Theodore, Sofie 69: Top 3 smoothie combos/flavors Grape, Strawberry, Cherry 71: Top 3 turn ons People being patient with me, People treating me equally, Being touched kindly at ALL 72: Top 3 turn offs looking like Tyler1 73: Top 3 recipes you want to try Sugar spice and everything nice 74: Top 3 dream jobs Primary School Teacher, Child Consoler/Therapist, I dunno being a storytime animator sounds nice... 75: Top 3 lucky items Fidget Toys, Stuffed Animals, Random Office Supplies (you know the ones)

[hyungsnkisses]

Dating Min Yoongi

( ~ o l d  r e q u e s t ~ )

♡  contains fluff and a small amount of smut, viewer discretion is advised

yoongi would be such a low maintenance boyfriend

he’d never expect anything from you except your love

and lord knows he has a lot of love to give

all this about yoongi being aloof and not interested is a load of horseshit

he is a clingy and whiny boyfriend periodt

you’d meet in the late night convenience store where you worked part time

you spent your evening shifts studying for college because evenings were usually pretty quiet

at around 1am on a wednesday evening the doorbell chimes and you look up from your books to welcome whomever had entered the store

you look up to see a slim figure in an oversized black hoodie wrestling with packets in the ‘to-go’ section

the hooded guy throws a bunch of coins on the counter in front of you and rushes back out

it happens like clockwork the same time each week

one week he comes in an awful lot calmer and wearing a fitted shirt instead of his usual comfortable clothing

he still grabs the same cup noodles and health drink

“you’re an awful lot calmer today than you usually are”

“i’m sorry?”

“well, i- usually you just throw some coins and me and run away”

“oh, i’m sorry my first impression is that... i’ve been really busy lately”

“it’s no bother, it’s just nice to see you more calm”

he grins over the top of his mask and you catch a glimpse of his cute gummy smile

your heart beats a little quicker

he continues coming into the store and begins buying two of everything and offering it to you

you’d sit with him at one of the table next to the counter

he offered to help you with your studies on your days off and after exchanging numbers he invited you into his studio

he’d test you until you looked tired

one study session he didn’t know what came over him but he had to know what his pout felt like against yours

before you knew it you were sat on his lap in the middle of a steamy make out

it got the awkwardness of first dates out of the way though

the first thing yoongi did as your official boyfriend is make you quick your god awful job

because it wasn’t healthy for you to be studying all day and working all night

you opted for a quiet coffee house job about a mile away from your dorm

it also gave yoongi an excuse to come and visit you at work for coffee

maybe sneak a kiss if he was lucky

you’d be in his studio most days if you didn’t have classes

just his presence quietly tapping away at the computer was enough to relax you

you have to baby him quite a lot

“yoongs, it’s late time to go home”

“i just need to finish this”

“no you don’t, you can do it in the morning, baby”

“but-”

“no buts, let’s get some dinner”

he’s be mr grumpy pants but he knew it was out of affection

you’d end up at his favourite lamb skewer restaurant

he wouldn’t let your hand go throughout the meal

he loves skinship so much

nothing major but yoongi loves having your tiny hand in his huge shovels

even if they’re calloused from the amount of times you burned yourself at work

he especially loves stroking his palm on your cheek before he kisses you

he enjoys watching the little blush that rises on your cheek

on days off he’d just want to cuddle you and be with you

you’d be in lounge wear just led watching movies together

yoongi would always want you to lay on top of him so he can draw patterns on your back

he’d definitely be planting kisses on your cheek every 30 seconds

“babe stop”

“stop what?”

“kissing me, it tickles”

“... you want me to stop?”

“well, no... but i can’t concentrate on the movie”

“good”

but like if you wanted to go somewhere on a mutual day off he isn’t opposed

but he isn’t gonna cover up when in public because he wants you to be able to see him

he knows being an idol is incredibly frustrating but he wants a normal relationship

and you didn’t mind stopping if a fan wanted a picture

you’d go to the zoo specifically because he knows you love giraffes

or to the theme park despite his hatred for big rides

he’s always doing things because he knows you like them

he just wants to see you happy

he’d take lots of photos of you on his big camera as well

“baby smile”

“not another one, yoongs”

“i need more for my collection”

he just needs enough photos so he doesn’t miss you so much when he goes on tour

you both know it’s inevitable but you don’t talk about it

until the day comes

and he goes to america

and you miss him terribly one night

you’ll phone him sobbing

“it hurts, yoongi”

“i know, baby, i know...”

“how much longer?”

“only 8 days, it hurts me too... i miss you so much”

he surprises you the day he comes back with a massive bunch of roses

you don’t stop cuddling for a solid 3 hours

yoongi isn’t one to say i love you in the conventional sense

his ‘i love you’s are more ‘get home safe’ and ‘did you eat today?’

but the day he does say it doesn’t come as a surprise to you

because you know he’s loved you for a long time

it would probably be the morning after your first time being intimate

you’d be lying in his bed completely naked just enjoying each other’s warmth

your body would still be engulfed in his embrace

you’d breathe in the fragrance left on his neck from yesterday and press a kiss to his collarbone

“mm morning gorgeous”

“morning~”

“did you sleep well?”

“very much... do you want me to make you breakfast, yoongs?”

“yes please, i love you”

he wouldn’t let you leave after some kissing though

while being with yoongles is a breeze, he gets jealous really easily

don’t be spending too much time with hoseok or he will throw hands

“hoseok, do you want to eat- oh! Y/N, i didn’t know you were here”

“hi yoongs, hobi just needed my help with something”

“h-hobi?”

“yeah...?”

“right”

he’d stomp off into his genius lab and lock the door

but that is voided because you know the code to his door

he’d go really small and quiet when he told you he didn’t like it when you hung out with the other members

he would only forgive you if you bought him shaved ice and cuddled for a while

you literally can’t say no to his pouty face

he just loves you so much like he wants to spend his entire existence with you

he’s so lucky to have you

sometimes yoongi likes cute and cuddly sex

and sometimes he likes passionate and steamy sex

he likes to worship your body like it’s the most beautiful thing he has ever seen

definitely likes to get you off before even thinking about himself

his hips can snap extremely deep and fast so you might need to prepare yourself for that

if he’s feeling really hot he might mix it up with some toys and stuff

cuddly sex would normally be if he woke up with a surprise in the morning

he’d be all blushy and cute

you’d be so close as you sat on his lap and gently rode him

gummy smiles everywhere

loves to have a shower with you post-sex and dress you up in soft and warm pyjamas

although you need to take care of him as much as he takes care of you

i mean it’s only fair

[avesagittarius]

lost mal-evolence // 8

WORD COUNT //  3010

an ! PLease forgive me for the ENORMOUS delay, I don’t even have an excuse but just starting back up this series. Send ask if you don’t wanna be on the taglist anymore, sorry everyone i know im a disappointment lol

summary ! The youngest of the Maximoff siblings had lived through heartbreak twice now. First her parent’s death and then her older sibling’s abandonment. She did not know what she had done wrong, only that she searched for them for 3 years before HYDRA recruited her. She joined them when she learnt Pietro and Wanda had came here after leaving her. Now 6 years after their departure, she was in the process of becoming HYDRA’s best asset ever.

part one    part dos      part tres      part quatro      part cinco     part seis    

part siete

________________________________________________________________

At dawn, when the sun starts to rise in the sky, the various shades of orange, yellow and pink illuminating the sky, that’s when Pietro used to feel the most peaceful. Of course, that was before they went and discovered the rampage that fueled his baby sister on the run. Before he saw what years of abandonment had done to her.

A few months ago, Pietro would have loved getting up before everyone else and go on his morning run, running faster than the forever circulating cars of New York City, when the city was awakening. He’d sometimes even go as far as the Liberty Statue, so he could admire the lady in the morning light, without the sea of tourists.

But now everything had changed, and he felt that when he woke up and had to force himself out of bed. When he didn’t have the motivation to go around the city, when looking at the rising sun didn’t feel as tranquil as it did before.

He could only think about her, Amalya.

Wondering where she was at this second, what she could be doing, how she was feeling. The overwhelming feeling of helplessness enveloped him once again. Pietro felt useless.

What was he going to become if he couldn’t even look after his own little sister?

He didn’t feel deserving of the Avengers. He felt like all they had done since they rescued him and Wanda from HYDRA was helping them, and all he could do was joke around and make mistakes on missions.

He was startled when he heard the knock on his door. To his surprise his body got up and went to open the door, but it felt as if he was far away from it. Like he was watching his body move from the outside.

Outside the door stood a very concerned Wanda, immediately she entered the room taking Pietro into her arms.

“Piet’ why are you crying ?” her voice was soft and worried, as usual these days.

But Pietro pushed her away to feel his wet cheeks, he hadn’t even realized he was crying until his sister told him so.

He dried his tear-stained cheeks and smiled sadly at the witch. Then, proceeded to shrug, not knowing how to express his feelings out loud, not really wanting to share either.

“You know we’ve told you a thousand times that it is not your fault ! Why do you keep doing this to yourself Pietro it isn’t healthy for you to think all this” Wanda felt she had to check up on everyone’s state daily, at least it prevented her from letting her thoughts wander.

“I can’t help feeling this way you know!” The tears building up in his eyes made him hate himself even more, he wished he could just find his sister in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.

“Well it isn’t easy for any of us right now, but could you try at least? For her?”

“Don’t you think I know that it isn’t easy for you for me or for anyone in this fucking tower ? I know it okay? But none of you abandoned her like I did, so please please Wanda leave me the fuck alone and don’t tell me how to feel.”

The hurt in her brother’s voice wasn’t like any she had ever heard, she wasn’t used to seeing him so torn and hurt, she couldn’t even be mad at him feeling what he felt, she was left speechless.

“Stop getting into my head please Wanda” He had always been annoyed when she searched for something in his head and had somehow found a way to block her out, which he did right away.

He didn’t want her to find out yet, he knew she wasn’t ready.

Not that he was either.

∆ While the Avengers were slowly starting to awaken in the Tower, it was already mid-afternoon in far-east Europe.

On her 10th day of running, Mal woke up startled by a loud knocking on the door. Whoever was behind it did not seem friendly enough for her to open it. A man was bellowing in Russian on the other side, his energy felt angry and annoyed.

Even though the sixteen-year-old girl had nothing to be afraid of, considering the amount of chaos she could bring up in just about three seconds, she didn’t feel safe.

After all, she had broken into a small cottage on the outskirts of a city through the backdoor. She just needed to sleep for a while, rest and eat so she could go on. The adrenaline from the first few days following the escape was slowly starting to dissipate and the heaviness of her fatigued body slowed her down.

Her muscles were tired of all the running, the calves of her feet had started to harden, not used to so much exercise in so uncomfortable shoes. The young girl had had to change clothes often in order to hide her identity from the people on the streets, especially the agents that she could recognize easily and were dispatched in small groups all over the country.

Her disappearance from the facility had caused a real panic over at HYDRA headquarters. A real man-hunt had been put in place, so they could retrieve the girl as soon as possible. In fact, the government had even been informed -not to the extend as knowing that she was a mutant- of her escape.

Upon hearing the very disturbing and worrying news, the authorities had put word on the street of this girl who was wanted by the government. Her image could be seen everywhere, on all medias allowed in Russia they were displaying nearly 24/7 a picture of her face.

As she had no money, she couldn’t buy herself any food, any clothes, anything to allow her to survive.

All she could do was steal or mend, which was rendered difficult for the most part considering every corner she turned, the police was there looking for her.

She doubted most of them knew what she was wanted for. She knew the evil organization wouldn’t ever compromise their mission, their goal. They were a secret.

She was a secret.

But she had escaped, and they had been forced to reveal her identity to the world. Now she most definitely knew that she couldn’t ever return or be found. They would hurt her, for disobeying, for hurting their men, for exposing herself to the world.

As she was slipping out the backdoor once again, the front one flew open and she ran. Cursing herself for waking up so late. Now she was sure the man was going to report forced entry and the authorities could find any kind of stuff belonging to her. From hair to her socks, they would be able to retrace her steps.

Great, now she had to change plans entirely.

The city she had just entered was situated on the Russian border, she was so close but so far. Because a mistake like the one she had just made could cost her everything.

At least, if the man had seen her run he wouldn’t be able to give the same description of her as the one the photo showed. After the four first days, she had been lucky enough to find a DIY-hair dye lotion in a supermarket trash.

She was ashamed of having to search through the garbage to get what she needed, but at the end of the day she didn’t have a lot of options. So now she had somewhat icy blonde bleached hair which made her blend in more in the big crowds of Russian girls. The dye wasn’t all that great though, it had hurt her scalp and even though she had followed the instructions she knew the color wasn’t going to last very long.

The only option she felt like she had was to cross the border before the sun set, today. Because finding shelter for the night would be way harder than it had been, the borders being heavily controlled at all times.

Mal knew she was probably only two kilometers away from Ukraine, which was less than a 30 minutes’ walk. It seemed so easy, too easy. That is why she felt more comfortable waiting for the night to come and the sun to come down, it felt safer. Like the night would hide her away.

After a little time of walking by herself and looking over her shoulder from time to time she entered the space of a small coffeeshop not too far away from the border. She had found some change laying around in the house she had stayed in the previous morning and decided best to wait silently in an unknown shop.

Even with a full plan in head Mal never even thought that she would eventually have to leave the coffee shop. She had stayed there all day, reading magazines and ordering the cheapest thing on the menu with the little money she had found in the house’s cabinets in the morning.

It was now 8pm and she was outside, kicking herself for not thinking that guards would be covering the entire area for the night, being this close to the border had left her with too much hope it had clouded her judgment. She now had to find a way to reach it without bringing any suspicion upon herself.

At least she had managed to go through the whole day unnoticed.

She was glad for the combat boots on her feet, the cold wind harshly wiping her face wouldn’t have been so kind with her extremities. She kept walking, grateful for the busy city she had chosen as a last stop before freedom.

She wondered what that felt like, to truly be free. Not like that feeling she had in the train but truly being able to enjoy a moment, without having someone monitoring you or having to constantly look over your shoulder.

The experiment she had gone through with Hydra’s surgeons and scientists had sadly blurred some of her childhood memories. The face of her parents wasn’t clear enough for her to draw a perfect family picture, but surprisingly enough she could remember the exact conversation her brother and sister had had before abandoning her. Memories like these only fueled her rage to get back at them, her entire life had been about being good enough for them, and she now knew she had sacrificed so many things just to realize they had never cared.

Knowing she couldn’t stay in one place for more than a few minutes without a guard looking at her suspiciously, she decided to keep moving and chose the most direct way to the border, hoping her plan would work.

And so, she walked, her mind still trying to make out the color of her mother’s eyes, and her dad’s voice.

∆ The chaos that was taking place in the Tower was like no other. It didn’t resemble anything that any of them had encountered before. Nothing like one of Tony’s after parties or like a fight between Sam and Pietro. The tower was bustling, the Avengers hurriedly trying to get all of their stuff together so they could be flying as fast as possible.

Thanks to one of Fury’s sources, they had been informed about some of the young girl’s whereabouts. The conclusion made had been that she would try to cross the border tonight or during the following day. So, here they were, changing into gear and getting the jet ready.

“Is everyone ready?” Steve’s voice boomed out throughout the main room, making everyone still their actions and look at him, “We have to leave, now, or else we’ll be coming back empty-handed once more”.

People around him had concentrated faces, even if there wasn’t going to be a fight, nobody was taking this mission lightly. It was important for them to be concentrated, for once no one dared to try and lighten the oppressive and tensed atmosphere, all too preoccupied to try and make a joke.

The lack of response from his teammates would have troubled Steve if he, himself had not been worried about his best friend and the twins. He had tried to get them to stay at the Tower and not go on the mission, unfortunately, all his good intentions were not taken into account when the conservation exploded into an argument.

Of course, the twins had to come. If anyone was going to save their baby sister, it had to be them. Not only did they feel responsible for what had happened to her, but they couldn’t even bear the thought of staying one more day stuck in the Tower with nothing to do and no new information.

Steve had, in the end, stopped trying to persuade them, knowing the discussion would not lead anywhere near a sound decision. He knew they would do anything to get her back and know what happened, but what he feared most was Pietro’s need for revenge. He could see it in his eyes, and feel it in his attitude, Hydra’s touch on his sister was not something that he was willing to just let go. He was afraid that getting her back would never be enough for him.

Another thing on Steve’s mind was Bucky.

The winter soldier had been even more serious than usual. He was always either working out and destroying punching bags or in the lab uselessly trying to be of some help to locate the girl. Steve knew her situation bothered and angered his friend, but he was scared of the consequences participating in such a mission could have on him.

Bucky was a grown man, but another encounter with Hydra was never something he could truly be prepared for. The memories and experience he had with them were still there, and always would be. Steve wondered why his best friend, even with everything he had been through at Hydra’s hands, was still so committed in finding the girl.

Steve was now sitting on the quinjet, still drowning in worry when Natasha sat next to him, snapping him out of his trance like state.

“If you frown any more, even your super-soldier serum won’t be able to prevent the wrinkles you’ll have.” She lightly tapped his shoulders in way that wanted to be comforting.

Steve chuckled, the first time since the news had been delivered.

“I’m worried about them”

“Everyone is” She looked around at every single one of their teammates, “We can’t take another failing in this mission, we’ve worked too much, it’s taken a toll on everybody”

“I know, we’ll find her.”

The rest of the flight was spent in silence. The thick and tensed atmosphere felt almost suffocating but no one dared to talk.

∆ As Mal approached the border, she knew her plan was working when the guards around her were too preoccupied with the crowd forming on the square not too far. No one was looking at her, the distraction she had conceived working like a charm giving her the perfect opportunity to escape and slip through Hydra’s grip. Coming up to the last one of the guards who had stayed behind to keep watch, she extended her hand to give him her fake identity card.

He looked at it intently and asked her why she was going out of the country. She answered and when he looked back down, his eyes widened, and she knew her cover was blown. Panicked, she punched him violently in the throat, the man dropping unconscious on the floor.

Adrenaline pumping through her veins, she ran as fast as she could and when she stopped running, any notion of time she could have had before was lost. Trying to regain her breath she looked around her.

Kneeling in a clearing covered in snow, the only thing surrounding her were trees. Both a blessing and curse she thought, she could hide in the forest, but her footprints were the only ones here, she knew she had made a mistake by choosing to go off the roads. Because her prints would be easily recognizable and the clouds not presenting any sign of snow did nothing to reassure her.

Her head was spinning with the amount of blood rushing to her head because of the running, preventing her from thinking straight and establishing a plan. The exhaustion from the past few days was starting to show its face and she knew that if she didn’t keep moving, she would pass out in the middle of this beautiful clearing.

But before she could even try and define the first step of her plan, she heard the shouts of men behind her.

Head spinning around, she turned and could feel the earth trembling with each soldier’s footstep. Tears of frustration now spilling on her cheeks, she knew she didn’t have time to run, especially now that she had been discovered.

Concentrating, she mustered up all the energy she had left and prepared herself for the battle running towards her. Electricity buzzing through her system, just itching and begging to be let out, she breathed in.

But before she even had the time to exhale, the sound of an engine sounded all around her. The clearing before illuminated by the moon’s soft light was now pitch dark, the aircraft blocking out any of that light.

Mal didn’t panic, she didn’t faint like she thought she would.

She got angry.

Fury flooded her veins and raged through her being like a hurricane upon being surrounded. She was ready to fight, once again, she wouldn’t stop because she was so angry and tired of people trying to take her freedom away from her. She had enough.

She wasn’t going to go down without a fight. They would know just what she was truly made of.

They would understand just how much power she had, because no one would take her liberty again.

And when she the jet finally landed, Mal exhaled, her eyes turning the deepest shade of amethyst.

________________________________________________________________

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[lamp-official]

I wrote a story, and its not my fault that it turned out this way. its about 1:45 in the morning, which isnt that early, but its early enough that my brain cells have migrated to somewhere else. sorry for the spelling errors, and let me know if you want me to write more of this story.

Once upon a fork, there was a batch of butter cooking in the oven. Naturally, all the flakes of candy wrappers were jealous of the butter. It sat in the finest pie tin of them all. Once it was done cooking, it got out of the oven to go harvest the fish. On its way to the basement of the dentist’s office, it saw a potato, who immediately stopped butter for a question. “If you have only one eye and you close it, is it blinking or winking?” Butter was immediately confused, but decided to continue this strange conversation. “Well, how many eyes do you have?” the potato looked him in the eyes and said “This week? the usual.” Butter shrugged off this strange conversation and continued on his way to the basement of the dentist’s office to harvest the fish.

    “So, how do I harvest fish?” butter thought to himself. “You know, I should really know how to do this, especially since this has been my job for the past 30 years.” the cat was at the berry bushes smelling the flowers, as all reptiles do in the winter. that was strange, because it was mid summer. butter was having a boring day, so he decided to join the cat in smelling the flowers. “SMELL.” said butter. “SMELL” eventually, butter decided two and a half hours of yelling the word “smell” at a flower was enough, and he got back to his walk to the job he still doesn’t know what to do.

    Once butter had arrived at his work, (for the first time in 30 years,) he pulled out the fish harvesting handbook, gifted to him by his boss who was too lazy to teach him how to do his job, or do anything but pay him and commit tax fraud. Butter opened the book. “A Guide to Fish Harvesting. Step one: Make sure you have the freshly killed fish all lined up on hooks on a string.” Butter looked at the actual fish, which were now rotted bones. “then take the first two layers of skin off of the fish” “already taken care of” butter thought to himself. “dig a hole in the concrete, and set the first two layers of skin on top of the pile of dug up concrete.” “well, I can scrape of the first two layers of bones off with a potato peeler if that helps” thought butter. “Now, remove the rain from the clouds, and water the empty hole you dug up. The more rain, the better the harvesting season is. for the people in animal crossing, not you, you dumbass.” “Might as well make something better for the people in animal crossing” thought butter as he lowered the clouds with his google assistant. “now that you have the clouds to water the holes, take the rest of the fish, and feed it to yoda.” “Whos yoda?” asks butter, who soon realizes who yoda is after looking at a pile of bones next to a dog sized water bowl and empty food bowl. “please note that yoda needs feeding daily.” “well its a bit late for that, says butter as he flips the page. he sees more steps, but decides to be done for the day “when you complete your task, record a 30 second video of what you did and submit it to me on google classroom. Dont worry, I will make sure NOT to mark it as “onion.” Butter looks at the mess that was made by the books instructions, and climbs the elevator to get back upstairs.

    The dentist looks at butter when he comes upstairs, and askes why he was there, to which butter responds with “shut the fuck up gordan ramsay, your giving me a head cavity. I work here.” “WELL I DONT LIKE YOUR LAMB CHOPS. NEGATIVE 300 OUT OF TEN GORDAN POINTS.” yells gordan. “now if you’ll excuse me, im off to do better things you panini head.” before butter completely walks out of the door, he turns back and asks gordan why he is a dentist if he always eats food and yells at it like a phsychotic judgemental butt head. like, its common sense that dentists dont eat, right? “well…” gordan is stumbling over his words. “well… well… I… I…” he is getting visibly nervous. “fine! you got me! i replace teeth with long term turnips! is that really so bad?” “it actually is” butter responds “you know teeth trafficking is highly illegal and tasty? I mean gross? I mean, I dont stay up til 3 AM watching random ass shit on youtube, YOU stay up til 3 AM watching random ass shit on youtube!” “That might be a personal problem” says gordan as he pushes out butter with a broom. “CURSE YOU PERRY THE PLATYPUS!!!!!” yells butter as he is being kicked out.

    Butter is back outside, and he is melting on a frying pan that is on the sidewalk. he sees some eggs walk his way and he thought they were going to join the party, but they walked into a cake bakery instead. He didnt notice them every coming back out, but he assumed they just went out the back or something. After telling his google assistant to turn down the weather so he could become a solid again, he walked to the library and asked if the librarian knew where any good cooking books were. the librarian directed him to the exit, because eating was not tolerable there, as she was a dentist in her spare time. butter threw a box of marbles at the librarian, and told her that she should try eating thoses, and they help with digestion if she ever wanted to try eating. butter walked out of the library and told his google assistant to load up some headphones, but then butter was reminded that he doesnt know where his ears are or how he even hears things. he decides that he will go to get some dirt colored, textured and tasting gold, because he wanted to buy something nice and expensive.

    As butter walked into the jewelery store, he noticed a sign saying “no robux accepted, and if youre gonna rob us, dont take my jacket. My mom will be mad.” an employee immediatly went up to him and asked what he wanted. Butter explained what he wanted, but later changed his mind and asked if he could have a cookie. the cookies were only for good boys, and butter qualified. sort of. he got a cookie. he went out to the bus stop to wait for his bus. butter wanted to play minecraft while he was waiting for his bus, but he forgot his phones password. he decided that he would just guess. he clicked random numbers, and his phone said “good enough” and let him in. he played minecraft, and inside the game, he tamed a villager and taught it how to download and play minecraft easily with a google assistant. 

    Butter got off at his stop to go to the fish store. He thought he might as well try to figure out the rest of his job while he was figuring out what his job was. He bought some freshly killed fish, and returned to the basement of the dentists office, and greeted gordan ramsay by placing a pair of cards from cards against humanity on gordans face. he walked downstairs and repeated everything from before. he lined up the fish on a hook, took off the first two layers (still with a potato peeler) he dug the concrete, put the fish skin on the pile of concrete and put rain it the hole. he still decided that he could help the animal crossing community, so he activated his google assistant. He looked at yoda, and just piled up the rest of the fish on him. now, he was moving onto some new steps. “pour 1 cup of flour into the rain water” butter grabbed flour, and sprinkled it all over the water. he got a little on yoda, but thats ok. “chop the concrete so that it is done medium well. Speaking of medium, make sure to grab an extra medium bag of dog food for yoda.” butter gets a knife, and gets the extra medium bag of dog food and puts it in yoda’s bones. if gordon comes down here, he’d have quite the snack. dead fish, dog food, AND bones! “once you have done all of that, make some lemonade. hold a “lemonade stand.” essentially, what you need to is charge people 85 dollars to enter a drawing to win some lemonade. then, pretend that you have given someone the prize, but dont actually give anyone anything. go drink some lemonade, and go on a vacation, paid for by your boss.” butter looks at the book in disbelief, and talks to his boss for the first time in thirty years, and he confirms it. Butter is going on vacation! 

[peremadeleine]

The Empathetic Dog Thief, Episode 1

Alternative titles: “Will: Deer Hunter and Dog Dad,” “Crimes Against Costuming,” “What Year Is It: A Crime Drama”

Armed with a gin & tonic and one sleepy cat, I finally gave the NBC show another shot.

I didn’t know Will had a superpower. Cool...?

How come he’s play-acting the murderer, though? Just because he can think like a killer doesn’t mean he needs to be reenacting it himself. That’s just confusing for the audience?? The way they did it in the Red Dragon movie was still effective without coming off as “aw, Will’s playing serial killer”

“This is my design” what

Plaid shirt and striped tie, truly a costuming sin. I didn’t love Will’s “modern wild west” costume vibes in Red Dragon, but it was better than this.

Don’t pretend that Jack and Will don’t know each other. Hate that.

Do look forward to hearing how many different ways people can pronounce “Graham” though.

Oh boy, why does Crawford push Will’s glasses up on his face while murmuring “hey” softly like a lover?? They’re strangers. That was mighty uncomfortable.

is he just assuming Will is on the spectrum? Right after they met???

and then Will confirms, but wait, he just has an “active imagination”?

STAY IN YOUR LANE

at least in canon Crawford doesn’t take advantage of people on the gd spectrum, and he spins it as being for the good of the victims. jfc.

“based on the characters by Thomas Harris”

Of course all the victims in the first episode are going to be women

“it’s not about all of these girls, it’s about one of them”--seven minutes in and they’re already ripping off Silence.

“he’s like Willy Wonka. every girl he takes is a candy bar.” no. nO.

“I mean, I would. Wouldn’t you?” no Will, Crawford’s a douchebag, not a murderous psychopath.

8 minutes in, me: WHERE’S THE TITLE CHARACTER THIS IS B O R I N G

“Why is it now a crime scene?” Because Will says so and he’s his own forensic team, apparently. Next question.

Also apparently he only owns red plaid-print shirts. Huh.

Lol Will has empathy for everyone but a grieving father confronted with his daughter’s dead body???

I don’t like the way Crawford is speaking to Will one bit. It’s supposed to be sensitive, but it comes off as condescending and mollycoddling. Ew. That is SO not Jack Crawford.

"You wrote the standard monograph on time of death by insect activity"?!?

so Will IS his own forensic team. Weird flex, but okay.

Antler velvet. Christ, HERE WE GO.

“You not real FBI?” Rip-off of Silence #2!

“You unstable?” Stop coming at Will, Jesus!

Will is a serial dognapper. SIX DOGS. Maybe, maybe, people in this neighborhood are missing their gd dogs, you monster.

none of them are even UGLY dogs

Will’s also drinking tho. One point for Gryffindor.

Oh, another plaid shirt. At least this one’s got a nice pattern. And isn’t red.

The bathroom is painted red, tho. What is it with Fuller and red walls?

Hugh Dancy’s American accent slips when he tries to like...emote. Yikes.

Strangulation is neither quick nor merciful.

A forensic specialist who wears her long-ass dark hair loose down her back and shoulders in the lab should be FIRED.

Implied “we covet what we see every day” scene: Silence Rip-Off #3

nineteen minutes in, me: W H E R E  I S  H A N N I B A L this is false marketing

Okay, I actually kind of like the “okay, I can cover him 80%” scene. Crawford’s real good at fucking up people’s lives in order to save lives.

twenty-one minutes in, me: HANNIBAL’S HERE THANK CHRIST

will probably regret this thought later

it’s okay, Hans. I, too, hate the career choices that have led me to this point.

the fact that he has tissues by HIS chair in his office is fuckin’ hilarious, what a douche, I love him

same, tho

The costumes and sets and cars are all screaming 70s/80s. But smartphones!

I’m watching this pretty late so my volume is a bit low and I cannot understand 70% of Hannibal’s dialogue, uh oh

Hannibal is supposed to be short so I don’t think this little “oh Crawford confused the short weepy patient with Hannibal” bit is that cute...I’ve always felt like Mads was poorly cast for that reason, among others. Oh well.

I take it all back:

HIS FACE

“No secretary?” “She was predisposed to romantic whims.” Not sure whether I like this line because Hannibal’s the one acting on whimsy or if it makes me cringe because of the way they’re dismissing Hannibal’s former secretary. Hmm.

“Are these yours, doctor?” a) Duh and b) Silence Rip-Off #4

Why the fuck does Crawford think he can just examine Hannibal’s papers? Like?????????

no wonder he hates your rude ass, Jack

HANNIBAL WHY IS WOUND MAN LYING ON YOUR DESK YOU PRECIOUS IDIOT

“Very interesting, even for a layman” Wow, unexpected Red Dragon rip-off (by the Red Dragon adaptation) #1

this whole scene is made of cringe HELP

why is Hannibal dressed in his Easter Sunday suit

Tattlecrimes.com. I’M SPEECHLESS at the stupidity of that.

tabloids are, in fact, still a thing in the Year of Our Lord 2013

No way is Hannibal fucking Lecter going to drink the swill that probably is Jack Crawford’s coffee, as if.

“Not fond of eye contact, are you?” Yes, Hannibal is the only character who should be canonically coming at anyone like this. (But also poor Will.)

But Will, at least look in his direction while he’s talking to you? I also don’t love eye contact...it’s rude not to even look at a person, though.

Hannibal finally used a contraction! He’s human after all. (This is a common Fanfic-Writing-of-Hannibal problem. I used to have it, too. You think to emulate him you have to write lofty, staid dialogue. But we’re talking about Hannibal the Punmaster General here.)

“This cannibal you have him getting to know” I’m sorry, who said anything about cannibals???

Stop incriminating yourself Hannibal honestly

Wait, is the implication that the victim whose lungs were taken is Hannibal’s? I hope not, because what would he be doing in Minnesota, and since when did Hannibal cut people up alive (Krendler notwithstanding--he’s a special case), especially women????? He’s a Monster(TM), but not a fucking sadist.

Will’s wardrobe also contains gingham!

no really, when did they determine that the serial killer was a cannibal?? did I sleep through that part?

“have Dr. Lecter draw up a psychological profile” bitch, please. Dr. Lecter doesn’t work for Crawford.

I don’t like hearing/watching people eat, especially in quiet moments. That’s going to become a problem in this show, isn’t it?

Will’s dream dear is fucking awful CGI. Wow.

That brown blazer--Hannibal would never.

EVERYTHING about Hannibal that should be black--his clothes and his hair--is brown here. It’s...weird.

to quote @random-emerald-thoughts​, “my homocidal boy aint about that tawny bullshit”

Hannibal Lecter: food snob--that’s canon. 

Don’t like this dialogue, though. And Hannibal bringing anyone he just met food in glorified Tupperware rings very false.

“Uncle Jack” what the fuck

Wow, Fuller jumped directly into the teacup thing right from the start. Yikes. He clearly didn’t understand it. (Clarice isn’t the teacup, bro. The teacup represents time, and disorder, and will it ever be reversed?)

Lots of weird metaphors in this episode overall, though none as bad as the Willy Wonka thing.

Why is Hannibal in Minnesota? Is he a crime-scene investigator now? Is he on the FBI payroll? Doesn’t he have patients with appointments to keep? Social obligations? I HAVE QUESTIONS.

He’s not a priss or a germaphobe. DISLIKE.

Do like the phone call. Just fuckin’ carelessly with people’s lives for the fun of it, that’s our Hannibal.

FBI? Are you FBI, Will?

He shouldn’t have been issued that sidearm if he can’t hold it steady.

One shot would have been plenty. Maybe two. Jfc, the reason Clarice shot Gumb so many times was because he was going to shoot her. Hobbs had a knife, which he dropped, and he was incapacitated by the first/second shot. Silence Rip-Off #5

How the fuck is he still alive and talking?! Will plugged him about eight times!

Call the police, Hannibal, or the ambulance, or take off your jacket and provide first aid to this girl. You’re a doctor!

It really is like he wants to be arrested or something.

And then he gets to ride in the ambulance?? Just Because?

Overall, it was...not very good, imo, poorly paced, very poorly written, with acting that jumped wildly from “very good” to “awful,” sometimes from the same actors. Intense cringe throughout a lot of the script. Ripped off Silence of the Lambs, a superior movie about many of the same characters, way too many times. Will is boring and I don’t care about him, but then I also don’t care about canon Will. And I still think Mads Mikkelsen was poorly cast as Hannibal...the costumes aren’t doing him any favors, either. We’ll see if he can bring me around.

Some moments of genuine humor that I appreciated, though, and some nods to the canon that I grudgingly appreciated, too, including Hannibal being a dick and Jack Crawford fucking up people’s lives.

Hopefully if you made it this far into my observations you got a kick out of them. I probably won’t go into this much detail for every episode, but I do intend to try to watch at least all of Season 1.

Painful as it might be.

[mybeautifuldecay]

Private Tutor. Chapter Twenty-Two; Turquoise, Emerald, Topaz.

It’s back! Sorry it’s taken me so long to get this out, for those who’ve been waiting. Work has started back and I’ve been buried under a mass of new schemes of learning.

Massive thanks to @suhailauniverse who helps me with everything ever and to @gotham-ruaidh who is the reason this happened in the first place.

MASTER LIST: for those who’d like a recap, re-read or just other chapters <3

The flat seemed incredibly quiet as Claire sipped her glass of water. Jamie had popped out with Murtagh to a wholesalers to restock and she’d been given some time by herself. She’d started by re-reading some of the introduction books she’d be studying come September but as time passed and the clock on the mantle grew louder, she’d lost her ability to concentrate. Right next to the clock sat a couple of photographs - one was of Jamie with his mum, standing next to the university. Murtagh and Brian had joined them on the trip just before Jamie started his course. The other was a grainy photo. It had obviously been taken with an early camera and the kids in the picture looked young and carefree.

“That’s Willie...on the far right.” Leaning against the open door, Jamie smiled shyly as Claire turned to look at him. “Then Jenny. Then me. Rabbie was too young to be out alone wi’ us, he stayed with mam mostly. It was taken just before he got sick on da’s first camera. He loved it, he’d spend hours following us around just to catch us doing something fun. The walls of his office were covered in them.”

“You all look so happy.”

“We were. Just weeks later, Willie was diagnosed and it all got a wee bit more difficult. I think that was the last time we were carefree together.”

“What were you doing?”

The photo had them all bent over laughing. They were damp, fresh droplets of water running across their exposed skin, their clothes clinging to their skin as they stood with their arms around one another.

“Have ye ever heard of loch swimming?” Walking over to her, Jamie wrapped his arms around Claire’s waist and brought her against his chest.

Claire shook her head, tilting her chin upwards as she skimmed her lips against his. “No, but I can guess what it is from the name.”

“Aye, I’m sure ye can. Well, we used to do it all the time during the summer months. We didna get too many sunny days, but we got enough that we’d do it at least twice a year. This year, though, we’d been really busy all of July. So much so that it was the first warm day we got by ourselves. Jenny and Willie ganged up on me. We’d actually gone out for a picnic. Mam had made us this wonderful box full of food and we’d played and joked around. It was after we’d eaten all of the cake that Jenny grabbed me, she had my arms in a bind when Willie took me by the ankles. They hurled me in, I can still remember hearing the splash as my head went under.”

“They’re wet in the picture too, did you exact your revenge?”

“No’ exactly,” Jamie chuckled, “they came in after me. I went under, held my breath as long as I could and floundered around so that they’d think I was drowning. That made them panic.”

“How very canny of you. What did they say when they finally got you back on shore and discovered your trick?”

“Why, they threw me back in o’ course.”

Snuggled against one another, Jamie settled on Claire’s heartbeat as the memories of his early childhood came flooding back to him. There had been many summers like that, wrapped in sun and freedom - Jenny, Willie and him had roamed across Lallybroch lands causing mischief and he wondered if his own child would get the same varied upbringing.

“It sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Ach, it was. Ye didna have the same?”

Pulling away a little, Claire stepped back and took Jamie by the hands. “No. Not to say that it wasn’t interesting in its own way, but I didn’t have any siblings. It was just me and my parents for the most part - until they died, of course.” She took a large breath, the hurt flowing through her at the mere memory of losing them.

“When yer ready, Claire, I’m here for you.”

“Do you remember when we spoke about my A Levels before?”

“Ye said you were all prepared for university, wi’ yer grades and yer subjects.”

“I was. Everything was sorted,  I had a place at uni in London. It was only three weeks until I was due to start when it happened.”

Letting her speak, Jamie held her close. He could feel the tense set of her shoulders as she tried to retell her story.

“I was lucky, they said, to have been found when I was. We were in the car on the way home from an event my uncle Lamb had hosted somewhere in mid-Wales. It was late and the rain had been coming thick and fast but the roads were mostly empty. They told me later that it was a lorry that jackknifed on a country road close to our house smashing the front of the car entirely.” She took a deep breath, the sobs reverberating through her chest as she tried to hold back the tears - even now it was painful to talk about. “My parents were killed instantly. I should be grateful, I suppose, that they didn’t suffer.”

“And what about you?”

“Mild concussion. I was knocked unconscious in the collision. A few broken ribs from the seatbelt and a fractured collarbone.”

“What brought the Randall’s into yet life?” He asked, curious as to how she’d ended up married only a few years later when she still (clearly) wasn’t over the grief of losing her parents even now.

“Frank’s father was the chief of medicine at the hospital I was taken to. Him and my father were really good friends and, although I had never met Frank before then, he came everyday to make sure I wasn’t alone. He was sweet - at first - looking out for me, getting me through those first lonely months. I leaned on him like a crutch and it wasn’t long before he’d indoctrinated me into his family. It spiralled from there and before I knew it we were married and I had all of these obligations that I’d never had before. And the rest, as they say, is history.”

“Did ye ever grieve for yer parents?” He asked, his eyebrows drawing together as he felt her tense up. Though she had motored through her story, Jamie sensed that she was leaving out some minor details - nowhere had she mentioned anything of her own healing process and it worried him.

“I was numb for a long time. I didn’t think about it, really.”

“Which is why ye didna talk about it wi’ me…”

“Yes. After you told me about William, I knew that I’d have to open up about my past too.”

“Have ye ever spoken about it before...to anyone?”

“No.”

He had a feeling that was the case. No matter how caring Frank had been at the beginning of their relationship, he had allowed her to clam up about the one cataclysmic life event that had almost taken her life. Instead of coaxing the pain from her, she had been lulled into burying any memories of the accident deep down - meaning she had never mourned the loss of her parents.

Running his fingers along the top of her chest he kissed the tip of her nose before leaning his forehead against hers. Tracing a line along her shoulder, down her left arm he took her hand in his. Gently, his finger wrapped around the gold band that still sat there, he removed her wedding ring - his eyes on hers to make sure she was alright with his actions.

“Dinna bury yer feelings, Claire,” he whispered, “I ken how hard it is to lose someone close, but ye need to talk about it. I’m always here...talk to me, when yer ready.”

“What are you doing?” She asked, taking his offer on board whilst she glanced at her now ringless finger.

“Making ye a promise.” He returned, fumbling in his pocket before pulling out a small, black velvet box.

Taking it by the lid, he clicked it open against his leg so that he didn’t need to take his hand off hers. “This is my grandma’s ring, aye?” He said showing her the beautiful triple gemmed ring that sat snuggly in the box. “Da gave it to mam after they marrit - it’s an eternity ring. When I told her about ye, she gave it to me and said I’d know when the time was right.”

Claire gasped in a stunted breath, her eyes welling with unshed tears as her hands shook.

“I ken ye arena divorced just yet, but I know it’ll happen - whether it’s sooner or later - then I want to make ye mine, Claire, if ye’ll have me.”

The ring slipped easily onto her finger, the sterling silver blue topaz, emerald and turquoise geometric band fitting perfectly. Jamie let his hand hover over hers for a moment longer, holding it so that they could both see the commitment that they had just made to one another as the gems reflected in her eyes.

“It’s beautiful, Jamie...I can’t believe…”

“I’m yours, Claire, and I have been since the moment ye walked into my life. Whatever happens next, we will always have one another, aye? Through huge loss, pain and heartache we managed to find one another and I’m willing to fight for ye until there’s no more air left in my lungs. I love ye, truly.”

“Me too, Jamie, so much…” she dragged in another breath before moulding her lips to his. Letting the tears roll freely down her cheeks, she kissed him hard, her arms wrapping around his waist and bringing him so close to her that she could feel every ruffle in the fabric of his top. Crushing her hands into the back of his shirt, she let the metal of the new ring forge a solid dent in her flesh as their tongues met. She arched her back as the relief coursed through her whole body.

[okimargarvez]

HOME RUN

Original title: Home run.

Prompt: Luke and Penelope going to see a baseball’ match.

Warning: none.

Genre: comedy, romantic.

Characters: Luke Alvez, Penelope Garcia.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot, part 37 of 365 Garvez canon Life.

Legend: 💑😘.

Song mentioned: none.

GARVEZ STORIES 

Please, read the Note: I want to apologize for the wrong things I may have written about baseball. I'm Italian, and here the main sport is soccer. It's also the sport I love most, and all of Luke's pre-match anxieties are personal experience. I played baseball in high school, but it's been years and it's not the same thing. It doesn't have here the same value that in the United States. I assure you that I have tried in every way to find the correct technical terms... I even did more research than to write my second thesis! I did my best, so forgive me!

HOME RUN

 New York Yankees vs. Boston Red Sox.

When Luke saw those tickets appear from the envelope, he didn't believe it. All the websites and retailers he had visited had sold out for weeks. He had resigned himself to having to watch the match on television.

But he didn't count on his hacker girlfriend.

-It's not your birthday, it is not one of our anniversary. But I knew how much you cared for, so I organized myself in time.- she had said to him, belittling her gesture as usual.

The man, ignoring the fact that they were in a federal building, although both had already clocked out, had made her do more than one turn around the room. So much so that JJ had immediately interpreted this joy in her way.

-I'm going to become auntie?- both were quick to shake their heads.

-No, Penelope bought me the tickets for Saturday's game!- as much as she loved sports, the blonde preferred soccer. But Rossi shared his enthusiasm.

-Really, boy?- he had nodded. -Only my kitten could do such a thing.- Luke had looked at his girlfriend and had decidedly agreed.

 They take the plane together and spend the afternoon before the match visiting museums. The night before, Luke begins to show the first signs of pre-match anxiety: he's in fibrillation, he can't even concentrate on dinner, he doesn't stretch his hands on her body. He falls asleep very late, while Penelope rests as serene as a lamb.

Yet, he doesn't envy her. Every time he looks at her, he can only think of how lucky he is.

 Finally, the big day has comes. An hour and a half before the game starts, they head for the stadium. The hotel, always booked by Penelope, is not very far from there, and their room indeed overlooks that panorama.

Luke's suitcase was half full of indispensable accessories to wear only for games seen live: bracelets, scarf, inevitable cap and even the shirt of his hero, or rather what his father passed down to him: Joe diMaggio. Penelope was one of the few people present not wearing anything that identifying what team she supports, but taking advantage of the presence of different stands, the man was quick to remedy.

Only after much insistence, she yields. -Please, I know you're not interested in baseball, but you'd make me so happy if you wear at least this cap... and the scarf... and a bracelet... ok, perfect.- he takes a dozen photographs, all more or less the same. Penelope allows him to do it, resigned, with the promises that he will not publish them anywhere. -Oh, honey, I was sure you would been super sexy with these colors. You look so good.- she merely raises her eyes to the sky.

Once they are seated, the woman begins to ask a series of questions.

-Ok, so what is the goal of this game?- immediately she catches the shadow in Luke's eyes. -Sorry, I wanted to say sport.- she hastens to correct herself, but not with too much repentance. She can't hold a yawn.

-The goal is that the ball reaches the fourth base, i.e., that it returns from where it was come.- he starts to explain, very patiently. -Only in this way, the hitter will have score. After three empty throws, at least you'll know it, the hitter is out. When three hitters are eliminated, the team that until recently had attacked must go to the defense, and vice versa for their opponents.- Penelope opens her eyes wide and after a moment shakes her head. Luke sighs.

-I'm sorry, it's all too complicated.- she shrugs.

-No, it's not that hard to understand, trust me.- man insists. -There are nine rounds, and the two teams alternate in attack and defense. The team that defends is the one that throws the ball, the attacking team is the one that draws, in fact the hitter invades the opposing territory and he must try to get a forth base, not necessarily in just one turn. When he arrives at the fourth base, he scored.- he has put all his goodwill and reserve of patience, but the woman continues to stare at him with a confused expression.

-Luke, love, listen to me: forget it. I really can't understand. Maybe when I'll see a match everything will be clearer, but for the rest... enjoy the day. It's your day, today, ok?- there's something strange in her tone, but in the end he decides to give her reason and limit himself to being satisfied with her presence.

During the first round Penelope is quite silent, smiling at him every time the Yankees score a point and giving him a pat on the back when the Red Sox are on the move. When they are at the third round the score is 4-3 for the hosts. One of the many big screens suddenly becomes black and a message appears in the middle. Kiss cam.

The first to be captured are two young guys, probably teenagers, who take a few seconds to understand that they are at the center of the attention of the entire stadium. The first to turn around is the girl, brunette, slim, very pretty. He wears glasses that seem to have thick lenses. From the way they look at each other, it is clear that they had never seen each other. Both become red, then she shrugs and starts to approach. After a moment's hesitation he imitates her. They exchange a short kiss. While the dreaded cam moves on an elderly couple, much less reluctant than the two guys, the latter begin to talk, exchange opinions on the match, and then the phone' numbers. Sometimes things happen for a specific reason, even if we'll never know. The third and last couple is formed by a blonde with all the curves in the right place, the appearance of a Scandinavian, and a brown man with amber skin, decidedly Hispanic. Penelope keeps from bursting out laughing when Luke whispers in her ear: -We can't be less passionate than those two old, you know?- and so they give their contribution, making the stadium ring out with enthusiastic shouts.

The best however, has yet to come. Last round. Score tied, 6-6. At the throw there is the best player of the Boston, at bat there is the best one of the Yankees, which today doesn't look so good. He has already failed the first two shots, the second time he has missing the ball for a inches. The tension is palpable. No wind. The ball starts its run and in slow motion the attacker hits it, sending it in...

-Home run!- shouts Penelope, before the sportcaster, earning a strange look. -What's up? Maybe I exaggerated by saying that I don't understand anything about baseball... look... my brothers are great fans. Of the San Francisco Giants, of course.- Luke shakes his head, more amused than not angry. -You wanted to think I was an ignorant, about this, so I let you think that.- she says.

-Penelope, you are... the most amazing woman I know. –

TAGS: @theshamelessmanatee​  @arses21434 @kathy5654 @martinab26 @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @thinitta   @myhollyhanna23 @garvezz @mercedes-maldonado  @shyladystudentfan

[captawesomesauce]

I was tagged by the awesome @tequilatuesdays4all 1. What’s your biggest pet peeve?

Hmmm it's a tie between these two things:

- Something I absolutely hate, despise, detest, loathe and abhor is when people flirt/hit on/send messages about how big of a crush they have on people who are explicitly in monogamous relationships.

Just something so wrong about trying to ‘woo’ someone away from someone else.

Now if the person is polyamorous, fine, go for it, but otherwise you’re literally just trying to destroy one relationship for your own selfish benefit and that is just :|

---- and ----

- I’m not naming any names, cause this could be a bunch of you, but someone said that they were feeling super needy but didn’t want to be annoying …

and you know what… FEW things in life irk me more than that!!!!

Because FUCK THAT NOISE!!

If you need something: hugs, attention, affection, someone to just lay back against while you read a damn book, GO AND GET THAT!

If that annoys someone, well then that someone is WRONG for you and you shouldn’t waste your time with them. If you crave it, long for it, physically need it and want it and wish for it, then the person you are with should fulfill that!

Why torture yourself? Why hold back? Why deny yourself the things that will make you happy? Has society slammed you so off kilter that you think attention and affection is “annoying???” What’s next, drinking water is bad, and you should be ashamed for having to poop???

FUCK that noise! Be needy, be affectionate, be loving, be YOU and FILL your needs!

2. What’s at the top of your bucket list?

See Scotland, spend a week on Catalina Island, find true love again, learn to perform telekinesis because Queenofthefatbabes told me to.

3. Favourite movie?

Hmmm, I don't know if I have a real favorite, but I do have a favorite genre! Late 70s/early 80s comedy! I'm talking Mel Brooks History of the World and Blazing Saddles, as well as all of the classics like Caddyshack and Stripes and Animal House and the original Blues Brothers!

4. What are you really passionate about?

SOOOOOOOOO many fucking things, I seem to run at 100 fucking percent lol. Right this second it's music. I'm just laying here listening to a ton of random stuff and letting the music just flow from one band to another, sometimes it makes sense, sometimes ... not so much. lol

I'm also really passionate about history, especially european imperialism and lesser known wars.

I should be more passionate about environmentalism, but fuck it, we're doomed.. y'all having kids... man... just... sorry dudes, this planet is gonna be an EPIC mess by the time they hit college. We've fucked it over soo badly.

I dunno, lol, go through my archives... I'm passionate about so much :D

5. Can you cook?

I can! What I can't do is bake lol. My mother taught me everything from classic jewish cooking (Matzo ball soup, roast chicken, matzo brie) to ribs and pork chops, great steaks, and so much more.

She and I are both kinda picky eaters, ok, she's SUPER picky, so the rule was, if you don't want it... cook your own shit! So... from a very early age I learned how to cook what I liked! She'd always be willing to help teach me and experiment, but why should she have to cook two meals??? She shouldn't and I never expected her too.

She could have her lamb chops (blech), and I'd often make a pork cutlet (milanese) with a garlic rice and seasoned broccoli.

She didnt want what I was having, i didnt want what she was having, we made do :)

6. What job would you be really terrible at?

Anything involving drawing/art/creativity... also sales according to all of the job tests. I'm not a salesman, I don't have the ability to lie, tell stories, shmooze, or convince people to buy shit.

7. Have you ever been abroad? I've seen the entire world for the most part! There's very few places I haven't been, except for western europe and much of south america.

8. Something you will NEVER do again? I don't know to be honest... I keep thinking about this question, it's taken me DAYS to answer this because I can't think of an answer to this one question. I honestly don't know!!! I'm kind of an idiot and never learn my lessons lol

9. Would you rather give up social media or your favourite food?

So... this is a thing that is kind of personal to me. WhenI was a teen I had a pretty bad reaction to bacteria in water down on the mexican border in Texas and had full gastro-intestinal failure. I ended up on a hospital flight home, and since then I was on a very limited diet. I used to LOVE veggies and fruits, salads were my shit!! Broccoli and brussel sprouts were my favorite snacks! Celery was always nearby.... but... ever since then... nope. A lot of that stuff, even cooked still hurts so bad, so I had to give that up.

A few months ago, as a reaction to the meds I'm on for my auto-immune bullshit, I had to give up carbs and basically go on a full on diabetic diet... which is SUCH bullshit!

So now I can't eat fruits, veggies, OR carbs and starches, and that's like. FUCK THIS SHIT... all that's really left are soups and meat :|

BUT... through everything I always had computer friends. As a kid on COMPUSERV, as a teen on BBS's, and then mIRC (EFnet and DALnet), and then later what we call social media - myspace, facebook, tumblr.

So... the answer is, I've given up food, but y'all are still here with me :D

10. A song you HATE?

So many fucking country songs it's impossible to pick just one. I'm a super dooper fcking hater when it comes to country. Sorry y'all, I just can't STAND it.

11. A condiment you can’t live without? I'm a huge salt fan which is funny because my sodium is always really low. Also McCormick's Grill Mates Roasted Garlic and Herb is my FAVE!!! I love that stuff so much!

[markiepoohismysunshine]

11 Questions Tag

Tagged by these 3 beautiful people @cecenybabe @redtuan @cuddletuan (this post is gonna be super long, sorry in advance!) 

Rules: 1. post the rules 2. answer the questions given to you by the tagger. 3. write 11 questions of your own 4. tag 11 people

•• @cecenybabe Q’s (thank you for tagging me, Cece! 😘)

1. What are you doing right now?  - hugging my hot compressor b’cause this flu got me feeling cold 

2. What do you think of me and my blog? If you think I suck I can handle you tellng me that - Your blog is amazing! Because not only you’re a GOT7 and Mark stan... you’re also Paramore, Halsey, Avril, and Evanescence stan!! And i am too! yay!

3.  Your favorite authors and books you like to read if you like books( TOP 5) - I haven’t gotten the chance to buy any book lately, so I'm mostly reading stories on Wattpad and AFF. But I like Oscar Wilde’s (The Picture of Dorian Gray), Edgar Allen Poe (The Raven), Melissa De La Cruz (Blue Blood Series), and Claudia Gray (Fateful)

4. What music do you like to listen to? Any music besides K-pop? - My music genre range from pop, pop-rock, alternative-rock, indie, r&b, electronic, dubstep, and classical music

5. Are you a night or morning person? - Both 😄

6. Where do you wish you were right now? - Right where I want to be... Home~ 😁

7. whats’s your favorite season and why? - Winter because I get to cuddle with my blankie and I’m a winter baby. And Spring, it’s the time where it’s not too cold and not too hot, just nice.

8. What shows or movies are you into? - Riverdale (patiently waiting for S2), How to get away with Murder (haven’t finish S3 yet), Gotham (barely finish S1 T_T)...And I finally watched Insurgent last night 😄😄

9. What helps you when you’re stressed? - Chocolate, music, writing, drawing and coloring the mandalas 😊

10. do you play any instruments or wished you did? - I used to play piano and guitar...I wish to re-study piano again and try maybe drum or violin.

11.  do you prefer online or in store shopping? - In store shopping 

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•• @redtuan Q’s (thank you for tagging me, Nicole! 😘)

1. Which fictional character do you think would be the most boring to meet in real life and why? - Probably all the bitchy and villains characters because I might either strangle or just murder them hahaha

2. What would be on the gag reel of your life? - Me yawning 24/7, searching for smth to munch 24/7, laughing like a maniac and trying to win my cats love 😆😂

3. What is one thing your ultimate bias does that irritates you? - Hm...like... WHY IS HE SO GOD DAMN CUTE?! HE ALSO PROBABLY KNOWS WHAT RED HAIR DOES TO HIS FANS ADN SECRETLY LIKES KILLING US ALL! ASDFGHJKL!!

4. Do you have any irrational fears? - Clowns, crowded area, drowning, and spiders

5. You have the chance to spend a week with your ultimate bias - do you have them show you around their hometown, do you show them around your hometown, or go somewhere neither of you has been before? - Maybe go somewhere where neither of us has been before.

6. Do you have any guilty pleasures? - The classic movies

7. If you could direct a MV for any of your ultimate bias group’s songs, which song would you choose and describe the MV. - this is tough... it’s a choice between GOT7 Paradise or Mayday.. But i guess, I’m gonna go with Paradise...Since GOT7 has been making serious MV from If You Do Era up to now, I supposed Paradise could be like those Summer holiday spending at the beach feels mashing it with a refreshing new found relationship type of MV.

8. What is your dream job? - Owning my own cafe 😊

9. What is one word or phrase that you say too much? - Heh... meh... nyeh... 😆

10. Realistically, if you had the chance to go on a date with your ultimate bias, would you? - Yass!! I mean, I’ve been given the chance to go and it’s once in a lifetime opportunity!!

11. Out of all the members of your favorite group, do you think the member you’re the most compatible with is your bias? - Hm...tbh i don’t know... Mark gets shy and overwhelmed when someone he doesn’t know approach him (me too!) He is quiet but becomes really childish around his friends (i am too!!) So, i think we are(?) 

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•• @cuddletuan Q’s (thank you for tagging me, Jeng! 😘)

1.) If you’re a book/fic, what would be your genre and alternate universe? - Fantasy with a little bit of romance. All kinds of supernatural mythological creature living in one world type of A.U

2.) Best nuggets in the world? - Mcdonald’s chicken nuggets !!!HANDS DOWN!!!

3.) Do you have your own emergency stack of ramen? - nope

4.) What do you want to eat right now? - Tteokbokki (Spicy rice cake)!!! and Lamb Chop!! 🤤🤤

5.) Oldest Korean song (from a Korean idol/group) you know by heart. - It’s You and Sorry Sorry by Super Junior (can I just say that Donghae still looking hot af after all these years) 🤤😍

6.) Do you have any pets? - yes! 5 disrespectful lazy cats~ 😺😺😺😺😺

7.) What song are you listening right now? - Excuse Me by Jazmine Sullivan 💕

8.) What do you think of Tumblr? - Hm...if you follow the right ppl, Tumblr is fun. But if you hang out with the wrong crowd, it can be a little disturbing... Be careful of who you follow because some of their posts are either mind triggering or just simply nsfw. And i have a hard time following ppl back now T_T

9.) Is there anything you want wish when you meet the dragon Shenron of Dragon Ball? - Idk... I don’t want this to be like the movie ‘Wish Upon’ 😅😅

10.) Favorite Korean variety/reality show? - ever since I became a kpop fan, i have none 😋😄

11.) Say something about your ult bias. - ermm... I’m not good with this... But, what drawn me to him, aside from his obvious good looking appearance and the fact that he made himself known as the quiet one in the group (I am most attracted to that one quiet member..idk what’s wrong with me :D) To someone who’s not an Ahgase, he may give off the mysterious vibe, but to us fans, especially those who stan him... He’s actually just a cute shy cinnamon bun! And he’s just like every introverted people in the world! Quiet - and again - shy, prefers to stay around friends whom he’s known over the years, a family type of guy who happens to adore his two nieces. How cute is that?? asdfghjkl!! And have you seen him land all those magazine shoot gigs?! He looks gorgeous like the model he should be!! Well, this is all I can say, and I think I said enough... I think... 😋😄 _______________________________________________________

My Questions:

1. What is your favorite quote from any songs of your fav group(girl or boy)?

2. If your life is a book or movie or drama, what would you name it (title)? 

3. Would you write a song, choreograph, or become a manager of your fav group?

4. Coffee, Chocolate, Tea, or Water?

5. If you were to be in the situation like Madea’s Witness Protection movie and have to live with her, how long would you last? 

6. Which emoji do you usually use?

7. Where would you go if you were given a plane ticket and your flight is leaving in 2 hours?

8. *cont from Q #7 ... And who would you go with? One of your parents or siblings, best friend, or your ultimate bias?

9. Heights, Deep water, Insects, or Reptiles?

10. If you could pick a director, actors, and actresses to direct and play your life. Who would they be and why?

11. Branded makeup or Drugstore makeup?

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Tagging in: @2jaekisses @superfanboy19 @youngjaesloudlaugh @jj-nyoung @imjaebeomtrash @jeonandtuan @imxjaebeom @different-or-weird @pup-yongguk @wanderingingot7wonderland @krisyoels @aragyeom @officialwangtrash