#a little distraction until i get back to writing caffeinated

[spencerreidenjoyer]

could you do some fluff about spencer and reader sitting together on the jet? maybe like a time where it’s late and they’re on the way home from a case, and they’re the only ones awake and just chatting and being all cute?

mile-high | spencer reid x reader

wc: 680, rating: everyone

tags: mutual pining, mutual crushes, idiots in love, best friends, (un)requited love (they just don't know it yet)

a/n: hello anon! apologies for taking a while to respond to your lovely request. i was thinking for a while about what would work with this request and got inspired when i was writing this extremely tired lmao. i hope this is fluffy and cute enough for u!! can be read as gender neutral reader too since i didn't specify any gendered pronouns hehe. do not be misled by the title for there is in fact no mile-high club type tropes in this lmaoo

Your eyelids are heavy by the time the jet takes off back to Quantico. The team had been working overtime with a particularly enthusiastic spree killer, with so little cooldown time between kills that you all had no choice but to keep working the case until you had cracked it, culminating in an early morning raid of the UnSub’s ranch house-slash-lair. Spencer had a particularly satisfying moment of cuffing the UnSub, after being perplexed by his erratic movement as he was crafting the geographic profile.

You had watched Spencer down mug after mug of coffee for the past couple of days, and now, amidst the rest of the team dozing off, a still-awake Spencer still flips through his book rather quickly.

“Not tired?” You ask softly, trying not to wake the team.

“No, there’s still caffeine in my system.” Spencer purses his lips as he looks at you.

“I’m surprised you haven’t developed a tolerance toward caffeine yet,” you grin, shaking your head.

“It takes about a month for your body to get used to caffeine and its effects, which makes your body basically perform the same as when you aren’t caffeinated. But abstaining from caffeine over a couple of days usually resets your body’s response to it.”

You tilt your head. “Dr. Spencer Reid abstaining from coffee? I couldn’t imagine that happening.”

“I just opt for decaf,” he smiles at you, grin growing when you giggle.

Your eyelids feel so heavy, but all you want to do is talk to Spencer. You don’t often get time alone with him, which is maybe a blessing considering your crush on him. Maybe Hotch can tell how much you like him and doesn’t end up pairing you two off too often because he doesn’t want his best agents distracted – that’s what Emily always tells you, but you always brush her off.

“You look tired,” Spencer states, matter-of-factly.

“I am, but I can’t really fall asleep. I don’t wanna fall asleep.”

“Why not?” Spencer asks.

“Wanna talk to you,” you answer, a little too honest, and you don’t notice the surprised look on Spencer’s face, like it’s surprising that you want to talk to him. “I also usually need something to cuddle when I sleep.”

“But you’re tired,” Spencer repeats, even though you’re painfully aware of the fact. “You should rest.”

“I like talking to you,” you huff, perhaps a little petulant, but you’re secretly preening at all the attention Spencer is giving you right now.

Spencer nudges you with his shoulder. You whine, and look at him. Spencer says gently, “You can hold onto my arm. And lay your head on me if you want to.”

You slip your arm around Spencer’s, and it feels so right to be holding him close like this. It’s a little awkward, since Spencer’s not totally used to physical touch, but you’re taking any chance you can get to be close to him. “You’re comfortable.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Spencer chuckles. “Especially if it means you’ll get some rest.”

“No,” you retort. “Just because you’re letting me cuddle you does not mean I’m going to fall asleep.”

Spencer snorts. “Sure.”

“I’m not going to fall asleep, Spence,” you say, snuggling closer to him.

Spencer just hums.

“I’m a drooler, just so you know,” you say, like you’re trying to scare him off. Frankly, you’re just trying to tease him.

“That’s okay.”

“I’m–” you cut yourself off with a stifled yawn, and you glare at Spencer when he casts you a knowing smirk. “I’m not!”

“Okay, you aren’t falling asleep,” Spencer echoes. “But do you want me to read you my book?”

You close your eyes, smiling as you nod. You don’t see the sweet way Spencer smiles down at you, and before he’s even done with the first two pages of whatever he was reading, you’re out like a light.

You don’t feel the way Spencer pushes your hair out of your face, and the way his thumb gently brushes your cheek.

Maybe one day, he’ll have the confidence to do that when you’re awake.

[wwooyology]

Surprise Baby | S.JY

「pairing」 : bf!jake x fem!reader 「word count」 : 1.2k

「synopsis」 : jake was deadset on making your birthday special even if that meant making you hang out with your friend until he was finished setting up his last birthday surprise.

「genre」 : suggestive & fluff

「warnings」 : kissing, pet names (baby, my love...), choking (if you squint), usage of a blindfold, implied smut, romantic shit, lmk if I missed anything!

「notes」 : this is going to be part one, I got super distracted towards the end and didn't want it to be trash, so I will be writing the next part probably tomorrow or the day after! also, thank you to everyone who sent me birthday wishes. it means the world; I love you all, sm!!! <33

The day had been nothing short of perfect. It started with Jake waking you up by littering small kisses all over your face and neck. The sweet scent of vanilla and cherries filled the air around you, meaning he had lit your favorite candle. His voice was thick with sleep but still rolled off his tongue like honey, coating your skin in a warmth only he gave you.

After fooling around in the sheets for the better part of the morning, Jake’s lips never gave you the chance to breathe. He finally slipped out of bed, telling you to stay put before bringing you a tray full of your favorite treats and a warm cup of coffee, knowing that you’d need the extra caffeine to get through what he had planned for the day.

You had started to lose track of the places that Jake had dragged you, too distracted by the lingering touches his fingertips laid on your skin and the smile that pulled on his lips. There was also something that he wasn’t telling you, the gleam in his eyes telling on him.

“Jae…” You let his name trail on, stealing his attention from the jewelry display case that you were standing in front of. “As much as I love shopping with you, I want to go home and have some us time.” Your hand snaked around his arm as you pressed yourself against his side, hoping that he would get the idea.

He smiled down at you, but you knew he wasn’t going to give in, causing you to pout. Chuckling, he took your free hand in his, pressing a feather-light kiss on the back of your knuckles.

“I have one last thing planned, but I need to get it set up.” He started, his eyes flickering to something behind you, “That means that I’m going to need you to hang out with Yeji for a little bit.”

You bit back a sigh as you looked behind you, seeing your best friend standing a few feet away, waiting patiently with a smile on her lips. Jake watched your face in amusement as your bottom lip jutted out in that very adorable pout that he absolutely adores. 

The smile on his lips morphed into a smug smirk before he reached forward, grabbing your face, squeezing your cheeks causing you to look up at him with doe eyes.

“Be a good girl and listen. I promise you’ll love what I’ve got planned.” He whispered against your lips before placing a gentle kiss on the plump skin.

You nodded softly, leaning into his touch, hoping to fully connect your lips to his, but he pulled away all too soon, causing you to whine. The older male just chuckled before pressing a finger against your forehead, pushing you back softly.

“Go have fun, I’ll call you when everything is ready.” He smiled once more before watching your figure reluctantly retreat to Yeji’s side, who greeted you with a warm smile.

It felt like hours had passed since Jake left you at the shopping center to prepare things at home. At first, you had managed to distract yourself with idle conversation and window shopping (even if Jake had given you his card to use).

However, now you were finding yourself checking your phone every few minutes to see if there were any messages from your boyfriend, but much to your dismay there was nothing.

“You know, checking your phone all the time isn’t going to make it go any faster,” Yeji joked as she sipped on her coffee.

“I know,” you rolled your eyes before setting your phone down to drink a coffee of your own. I just wish he would hurry up. I hate surprises.”

“Well, give it a chance. I know you’re going to love this.” She giggles as you give her a deadpanned look.

“I just know you’re going to love this, meh, meh…” You mock the girl’s words, causing her to burst out laughing.

-

About an hour or so later, you finally got that text from Jake and were quick to bid Yeji goodbye and rushed out of the shop you two had been browsing through.

You were sure you had made it home in record time, surprised that you hadn’t been pulled over because you were sure you had been speeding down most, if not all, of the roads you took. However, it seemed that luck was on your side today because there was very little traffic, and you only hit maybe two red lights on your way.

Getting to the house, you didn’t even bother grabbing your purse or phone, too anxious to see what the quote-unquote surprise was that your lovely boyfriend had planned.

When you stepped inside, the apartment was eerily quiet. The lights were all turned off except for the hallway light that led to the kitchen. Your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. You couldn’t remember a day that the apartment was this quiet with Jake inside.

Just as you were about to call out to the man, your eyes caught sight of the petals sprawled across the floor. Sealing your lips in a silly smile, you crept closer, realizing that they led to your shared bedroom.

“Jake,” you called out as you made your way to your bedroom door, which was slightly ajar, allowing you to see the soft glow of flickering lights. You were met with silence, though, the hairs on your neck and arms standing tall as you reached out to push the wooden door open.

You open your mouth to call for Jake once more when you don’t see him anywhere in the room, only to have your voice get caught in your throat when your vision goes black.

“There’s my birthday girl.” Jake’s thick accent filled your ears, causing a shiver to run down your spine. His warm breath against your neck told you just how close he was as if the feeling of his chest against your back wasn’t enough.

“Jake, what is all of this?” Your voice shook slightly, a sudden rush of excitement coursing through your veins. Your fingers wrapped around Jake’s wrist, pulling them from your eyes and allowing you to look back at him.

Jake didn’t give you a chance to fully turn your head as he pressed a kiss against the warm skin of your cheek, his hand wrapping around your neck softly. Your eyes fluttered closed as he continued to press hot kisses along your jaw before nipping at your earlobe.

“Do you trust me, baby?” His voice was husky, instantly making you drip in your panties, and all it took was a simple mumble of a ‘yes’ for your vision to go black once more. Your breath hitched in your throat when you realized that it was a blindfold, Jake’s slender fingers tying a knot in the fabric, not tight enough to hurt, but enough to keep it in place.

Having your sight cut seemed to heighten all of your other senses. You could feel all of the hairs on your body stand tall as Jake’s hand traveled along the length of your waist, tugging at the fabric of your dress until it pooled at your feet on the ground.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take great care of you. Tonight is all about you, my love.” He whispered in your ear as his hand lay on the plush flesh of your stomach while the other moved to your jaw, tilting your head so he could press a searing kiss to your lips.

It was going to be a long night, but you couldn’t have asked for a better birthday gift.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[heavenlytouches]

can you write a imagine about charles xavier? like, you and him are roomates on college and one day you just confess to each other? plsplsplsplsplsplsplspls

Hello dear and thank you so so much for a request! This idea is so so goodl :D. Also thank you for feeding my Charles Xavier/James McAvoy obsession xD Let’s goo :O El <3

Charles Xavier- mind games

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝

GN reader

<3 (SFW)

TW-none

YOUNG!Charles Xavier

studying calmly until Charles suggests a "mind-reading" game ;)

HUMAN!reader doesn't know Charles is a telepath

Charles Xavier

The rain drizzled gently against the window, a soothing rhythm that filled the dimly lit room with a calming energy. The soft sounds of droplets racing down the glass played a subtle background melody to your weary thoughts.

The common room of your college dorm was strewn with textbooks, notebooks, and an assortment of empty coffee mugs that had once proudly proclaimed the need for caffeine during late-night study sessions.

Across the cluttered table, the ever-charismatic Charles Xavier was hunched over a thick volume of psychology, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked beautiful as ever- his silky dark hair slightly damp from walking in the rain and his blue eyes alight with intelligence.

Charles was brilliant, charming, and effortlessly flirtatious; the perfect concoction of qualities that made it impossible for you to see him as just a friend. In a way, he knew it too, though neither of you spoke about the unspoken tension lingering between you.

As you flipped through the relevant chapters of your own textbook, you stole a glance at him—it seemed like a perfect time to study, yet the heavy clouds outside made everything feel a little too gloomy. You sighed, breaking the silence. You could somehow feel him in your head.

“I can’t focus like this, Charles. It’s too dreary.”

Charles looked up, his expression shifting from studious to mischievous.

“Oh, come on! That just means there are more interesting things we could be doing.”

You rolled your eyes, ready for him to suggest another one of his ridiculous distractions, but you had to admit that part of you was curious.

“And what do you have in mind?”

He leaned back, an easy grin spreading across his face. His ocean-like eyes gleaming.

“How about a game of mind reading?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. Charles was looking at you with amusement.

“That sounds like a terrible idea. You’d just end up winning—again.”

“Exactly."

He said, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

“And it’ll give me a chance to demonstrate my exceptional telepathic abilities.”

“Telepathic abilities?”

You raised an eyebrow. He was always saying he's all that and a bag of chips, You adored that but sometimes, he could go overboard with making up stories.

“Are you trying to impress me?”

“Maybe a little.”

He replied, leaning closer. The space between the two of you seemed to shrink as his tone softened, and your breath caught in your throat.

You turned your gaze back to your books, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. His teasing flirtations made it difficult to maintain your composure, especially when you secretly harbored feelings for him that were only getting harder to hide.

“Alright, I’m game. Show me what you got!”

You relented, trying to keep your tone light, but the fluttering in your stomach said otherwise.

Charles’s face lit up with a playful glint as he shifted closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“Okay, here’s how it works: I’ll guess what you’re thinking, and if I’m right, you have to concede that I’m the ultimate mind reader."

You rolled your eyes, thinking he's just messing with you. He caught your gaze and placed a finger to your lips, shushing you and adding, so self assured:

"But if I’m wrong, I’ll do your next homework assignment.”

You chuckled, pleased with the stakes.

“Fine! But don’t cry when you can’t read my mind.”

He faltered for a second, presenting a faux-stern expression.

“You underestimate my skills. Ready?”

You were deep in your thoughts, something he will never guess. You remember watching a movie with him. You made a fool of yourself, snorting like an idiot. You're sure he doesn't remember that moment. You had your joker.

As he sat cross-legged on the floor, you watched him watch you, his gaze steady as if he were truly delving into your thoughts. He leaned on one hand, his slender fingers against his temple. You felt a strange thrill rush through you, as if you were participating in something much more profound. A moment passed, then he grinned.

“You’re thinking about the last time we watched a movie together and how I made you laugh so hard you snorted.”

You blinked, wondering briefly how he could’ve gotten that right—not that you’d ever verbally confessed. With shock, you replied:

“Okay, yes! But that’s just—”

He cut you off, waving his hand dismissively.

“Next round! This time, I’ll go deeper.”

You didn’t realize what he meant until the atmosphere shifted around you, a tangible tension wrapping tightly at the back of your mind. Suddenly, his smile faded, replaced by an intense look of focus.

You looked at Charles, his hair dry now collecing in small locks around his face, his blue eyes gazing at you. He was perfect. His freckles were gently glowing, dimmed light casting a warm shadow on his face.

His gaze held yours, something unspoken passing between you. After a moment, the corner of his mouth tugged upwards again.

“It's me huh? You like me. Like, really like me.”

Your heart raced, pounding like the rain outside, as embarrassment washed over you in crimson waves. You snapped out of your imagination, staring at him.

“No, I don’t—”

“Come on.”

He teased, his voice smooth as silk.

“I can practically feel your thoughts. I can navigate this storm of feelings you’ve got for me.”

You swallowed, trying to muster some semblance of dignity.

“That’s not fair! You’re a telepath!”

“True..”

He said, his gaze softening, genuine warmth radiating from him.

“But I’d like to think—given the circumstances—you’d have just as much courage if you knew.”

“Are you… are you sure?”

You murmured, vulnerability flickering through you.

His grin turned sincere then, a vulnerable glimmer in his eyes.

“I felt the same way, believe me. I just kept hoping you’d figure it out."

He smiled softly, moving closer to you, his fingers still pressed on his temple.

"I'm sure can share our feelings without mind games.”

You nodded, heart racing as a wave of relief washed over you. The air around you buzzed with a new electricity, and for a moment, everything felt right.

“So, will you let me guess what you’re thinking now?”

Charles asked, a smirk returning to his lips, his characteristic cheekiness resurfacing.

“No!”

You exclaimed, unable to contain your laughter.

“Though I think I have some mind games of my own that I could play.”

His laughter echoed through the room, merging with the sound of rain, filling the space with warmth and possibility. You knew this was just the beginning of something exciting and terrifying, and you couldn’t wait to unravel it further together.

“You’re on, mysterious one.”

He said, leaning back in expectation, as you both settled back, laughter spilling out like an open window to every secret and every future dream waiting to be shared.

I hope y'all liked this one :D. Wow two James McAvoy connected posts in a row TwT (guess my fav actor).

Don’t forget, requests are always open and I can write for any character you’d like!

I love you guys so much <33

(@iseveryoneherederanged another one babes ^^)

El <3

(all images were made by: El via canva & paint)

[anabdaniels]

Local God

A Secret Santa gift to @papipascaaaal.

Huge thanks to @pedrostories for this marvelous event.

Paring: Marcus Acacius x Female reader

Summary: It was supposed to be the best work of your life analyzing the general's statue, you just didn't expected the statue to turn into the general himself.

Word counting: 7.6k

Rating: +18

Warnings: Major spoilers of Gladiator II, descriptions of damaged mental health, heavy angst.

A/N: This ain't 100% historically accurate for the sake of convenience, but nothing too serious. I created Acacius' full name based on this post by @elflutter.

Divider from: @saradika-graphics

Masterlist || AO3 Link

You couldn’t contain yourself.

And actually, you weren’t the only one, after all, it wasn't every day that a statue from 210 AD showed up so well preserved, especially after the failed attempt of a damnatio memoriae. You spent your whole day in the museum room where the statue was placed, walking around it as you took notes about what you already knew and what remained an incognita, fascinated about all the information you had and wondering about the things you might never find the answer to.

You were about to roll your eyes and dismiss whoever was knocking at your door and interrupting your line of thought, but you promptly smiled sympathetically as you saw the kind old man who worked on the museum's cleaning team.

“We’re closing, Dr.” the senior man warned in his usual sympathetic tone, refusing to let go to address you by your academic title even after the many times you asked him to.

“Already?” you stated surprised and checked the hours on your computer, surprised by how you didn’t see it passing “I fear I’ll stay a little longer.”

“New boyfriend?” The man joked while opening the door slightly more to take a better look at the statue “I don’t know how you’re not afraid of being locked with these things.”

“Yeah, the big boy is keeping me occupied.” You joked back while patting the statue “You get used to them with the passing time.”

“I’m fine being away from them.” He laughed and shook his head “Good night, dear.”

“Good night.” You turned back to your notes when the man closed the door, recovering your line of thoughts and inevitably getting lost in them, wondering about so many things. You had spent most of your life studying ancient civilizations, especially Egyptians and Romans, and some events always got you thinking if the ancient rulers were truly that full of themselves or were simply dumb.

That statue in front of you was one of those cases.

You looked at the inscription on the marble plinth, a few bronze letters have fallen, but the dented gaps where they used to be had the shape of the letters, keeping the phrase complete and readable: ACACIVS VICTOR AFRICAE. Being face to face with such an opulent statue you wondered how crazy or stupid Geta and Caracalla were to think that the people would be amused with what and how they did to Acacius after they had converted him into Rome's greatest hero.

“You must have lived a hell of a life, hum, general?” you chuckled and shook your head, putting down your notebook on the nearest table and walking to the coffee machine on the opposite corner of the room, pulling your phone from your pocket while you waited for your espresso to be ready.

After the first shot of caffeine of the night, you hopped to get your brain to work faster, especially having drunk it while watching that sequence of short videos, remembering your psychologist explaining to you how they were probably the biggest cause of your troubles to fall asleep quickly. As you put your phone down and took back your papers, you were just about to write down what the next subjects you needed to check about the statue, until the noises of the street cats distracted you, making you involuntarily look towards the window.

And that simple action made any thought you could have shut down completely.

You blinked once, twice, rubbed your eyes, looked both sides, and still couldn’t gather a single logical thing in your mind, after all, wasn’t every day that an almost 6ft tall statue simply disappeared from its plinth. By the morning when it was brought to the Capitoline Museum and you got in charge of studying it, you thought that could only be a dream while seeing that it seemed to have evaporated, you prayed to all and any gods for it to be a dream, but your hope to be living a nightmare was crashed at the very second you heard a noise among the shelves near the door accompanied by a huge shadow; definitely wasn’t a mouse trying to gnaw old papers.

“Who’s there? This ain’t funny.” You felt like a stupid character from a low-budget horror movie while taking a few steps closer to the origin of the noise, but it wasn’t even a conscious move. You froze completely as the figure came out of the dark, not knowing if you wanted to run away or get closer.

“I apologize, ma’am. I mean you no harm.” The man spoke calmly, his deep voice echoing in the room.

“How did you… There’s no… You were just…” you still were incapable of making any coherent statement while facing a Roman general alive and right in front of you.

“I do not know how I am here either, ma’am.” Acacius explained himself while raising his hands at the level of his shoulders, wanting to guarantee you didn’t see him as a threat.

“This can’t be fucking real. You were a pile of bronze just two minutes ago.” You shook your head, rubbing your face one last time to make sure you were awake. “How could you just pop in here, Acacius?” The man seemed a bit surprised by your crude lingo, but what caught his attention wasn’t that.

“You know me?” he asked in a genuine mix of surprise and doubt.

“Of course, any dumbass that heard about ancient Rome knows the great General Marcus Acacius Justus Sacratus.” You said as if it was obvious, still shocked by the absurd situation.

“Ancient Rome?” he asked cluelessly, raising one eyebrow.

“Yeah, I mean, you lived on 210 AD and we are now on 2024 AD.” At that point you were sounding more casual, still not believing such circumstances, but holding yourself to the idea that you simply didn’t remember falling asleep and were having the craziest dream. Acacius digested the information with a frown, seeming to simply accept your statement.

“And what did you call me?”

“Acacius Justus Sacratus. They gave you the Sacratus agnomen after the chaos people made in Rome when the emperors tried to erase you.” You were quite surprised as you saw the shadow of a smile forming on his lips “Whatever, this is all kinda unbelievable. You weren’t supposed to be here. Oh my god, how I’m gonna explain to the director that a whole ass statue simply disappeared under my watch? I’m so fucked up, it would be our biggest exposition this year. I’m gonna be fired.” You had a small outburst of despair when the whole scene finally got solid in your imagination, after all, saying that one of the most searched historical objects had simply converted into its human form wouldn’t convince anyone.

“I deeply apologize for any inconvenience I might be causing you; I will leave immediately if it could help you.” Acacius’ sincere tone hit straight on your nerves, making you unsure if you were mad or sentimental about it.

“Leave where? The Rome you knew has fallen long ago and everything has changed. The empire you used to know and serve is now no more than a bunch of ruins spread across the whole Italy. Let aside the fact that you wouldn’t adapt to this new world by yourself and no one would believe your story. In no time you’d turn into an indigent or end up locked in a mental hospital because everyone would be convinced that you’re schizophrenic or something similar. And don’t get me started with your festive dress.” You said referring to his armor with the golden head of Medusa on the chest and the pompous red cape around his shoulders. “I can’t let you go, Acacius.” You sighed frustrated, all of that becoming too much. Acacius was lowkey confused about a few things you said, but also your temper was starting to annoy him.

“Well, since you know everything, tell me the way back home.” He rolled his eyes halfway, bothered about how you were speaking as if he wasn’t in a difficult situation either or had chosen to be there.

“Don’t start with that, I’ve dedicated a great part of my life to studying yours. I know your sassy temper.” You rolled your eyes, for a second lowkey forgetting that his personality was your smaller problem. Acacius had an answer ready, but your declaration got him unprepared.

“You studied my life?” he questioned, raising one eyebrow.

“Of course I did. You turned into the military version of Julius Caesar in terms of popularity, one of the most mentioned names when the subject is ancient Rome.” You sighed heavily, looking away from him “And I never got over what they did to you.” Acacius wondered for a moment what you were referring to, but he imagined you meant the whole situation in the coliseum.

“I remember all that.” He started in a contemplative tone “I remember being there, the exhaustion, the despair of my dear Lucilla, the pain of the first arrows, then I woke up somewhere else and remained there until today.” He sighed and shook his head “Do you have any idea of what happened?”

“No. Despite all the theories about time traveling and supernatural events, there’s nothing concrete about it that could explain you coming back to life.” You passed one hand over your hair, taking a deep breath. “Well, since I’m already screwed up with all this, can you answer a few things I always wanted to know?”

“Go ahead, it is not as if I have anything else to do.” Acacius agreed while taking a couple of steps to approach you by your desk, looking curious at your notes written on those peculiarly connected letters.

“Are the theories that you were trained by Maximus himself true?” you looked at him expectantly, feeling like your life would finally make sense with that answer.

“Yes, I had the honor of having him as a mentor.” He confirmed while curiously nudging the mouse of your computer, looking abruptly back at you when you slapped the wooden surface.

“I fucking knew it.” You sounded like an excited child “The behavioral pattern in matters of war is so obvious and explains your ties with the royal family. I know I wasn’t crazy!” you got slightly self-conscious as you realized Acacius’ confusedly staring at you, surprised that such a simple thing seemed to be such a big deal to you. “Now you probably think I’m crazy.”

“Not much shocks me after Geta and Caracalla. You look very normal to me.” He affirmed casually, taking a genuine laugh at you with how he seemed so casual about everything.

“Speaking about our crazy boys, the urban legend that you laughed when they threatened you with a damnatio memoriae it’s true either?” Once again you saw yourself breathing slowly to not miss a thing of the answer.

“Sincerely, I am not proud of it, but yes.” He shrugged with a discreet grin “But how do you know such a thing?”

“Well, we believe that it started as a rumor among the Pretorians that spread like fire on the straw due to people’s compassion for your history.” You looked away as your phone screen turned on with some random notification, but what got your attention was Acacius’ suspicious gaze toward the object. “Don’t be amazed so quickly, there’s a lot of weirdest technologies nowadays.”

“Everything seems quite familiar to me.” He said while looking around the room.

“We’re in the middle of the Capitoline Museum, what did you expect?”

“Capitoline?” he ignored your sarcastic remark, more interested in the familiar name.

“Come with me.” Before he could agree, you already had grabbed him by the arm, pulling him to the hallway.

“But this is...”

“Yes, the imperial palace.” You finished his statement as the two of you walked through the hallway full of statues.

“But you said more than a millennium has passed since my time. This place did not change at all.” You sighed and rolled your eyes, stopping a few steps away from the staircase, pissed at yourself for assuming Acacius would magically guess what happened in the last 1814 years.

“This is a museum now; the idea is precisely to keep all of this the most intact possible. Look at that.” You pointed to The Dying Gaul behind Acacius “This is from around 60-40 BC, approximately 150 years older than you and still perfectly preserved, just like everything else here. That’s why your statue was brought here, to be studied, cataloged, and exposed to the public, while we made sure it was kept safe and intact.” Acacius attentively listened to your explanation, actually surprised that those things were from his time or even before since they looked very much like they used to in their time.

“Now it makes sense to me.” He took another look around the hallway and then back to you “What do you want to show me?”

“C’mon, general.” You passed your arm on his while going downstairs, laughing at his expression mixed with confusion and surprise. You got out of the building, getting to the courtyard and leading to the front door, you hesitated for a second before opening it. “Please don’t lose your mind.” You sighed quietly when he nodded and opened the door in front of you.

Acacius took a first hesitant step, at first not seeing anything so different, but then he paid more attention; the equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius showing the signs of time with the marks on the bronze, if only he knew that wasn’t even the original one, the pavement also didn’t pass unnoticed by him, definitely that wasn’t there the last time he saw the place. Afraid with which other changes he could find, but unable to hold back himself, he walked closer to the edge of the square, taking a full view of the city, unable to identify what he was feeling while seeing a completely new city, despite still being able to see the Rome he used to know on those ruins. Acacius leaned against the plinth of one of the two enormous statues at the entrance of the Capitoline square, only then seeming to completely understand how much has happened in the world since his death.

“Are you alright?” you asked, approaching him, noticing his distress.

“Yes.” He answered while looking again at the city for a moment, then back at you “I just did not expect all this.”

“You’ll get used to it.” You said casually, not wanting to make the situation worse. “C’mon, we can’t stay here for too long, it’s almost 6 am, soon the team will be here to prepare the guided tour.” Acacius just followed you while still looking around, less shocked, but still not totally believing in what he was seeing.

“What is this?” he questioned as you opened that unknown metallic device.

“It's nowadays carriages.” You answered with one arm lying on the car door “Get in, general. I’ll take you home.”

“You are quite an odd lady.” He said unable to suppress a chuckle.

“I’m not the one wearing a dress and a crown of golden laurels.” You rolled your eyes with a quiet laugh as he got into the car the best someone from his time could. You closed the door and walked around, getting into the vehicle and looking at Acacius, smiling at his childish curiosity at the screen showing the GPS.

“Is this a map?” he asked while recognizing the image.

“Yes, and this little dot there moves simultaneously as we move.” You mentioned starting the car and moving on the street.

“Fascinating!” Acacius’ enthusiasm was obvious “This would have been so useful to navigations.”

“You would love to be a general nowadays.” You kept looking at the street in front of you but could see Acacius’ head turning to every side it could.

Your way back home at these hours used to be boring, but not when you had your favorite historical figure asking you tons of questions: “What happened to the coliseum walls? What are those red and green lights? How does the map dot know where we are going? How did those strange street torches extinguish themselves?” Most times you’d be annoyed with so many questions, but the way he sounded so fascinated and curious kind of warmed your heart, making your brain occasionally click; you’d never give any of your male coworkers a ride to the next street corner, yet you felt completely at ease near to an ancient roman general you only knew through the tons of history books you read over your life, truly feeling like some kind of good aura came from him.

And the same was true for him. Despite the little harsh moments you had earlier, he trusted completely his judgment about people, and you definitely were on the trustworthy side for him, after all, he understood you would be in trouble with whoever was your superior, yet you refused to let him at his luck.

Finally, at your house, Acacius’ fascinations with the modern world didn’t cease, some of them quite comprehensible, like his shock when your Alexa turned on all the lights on the house, and some others funnier like his interest in your thermal cup and how it was able to preserve temperature.

“Slow down, I still do not understand how people get inside this thing.” Acacius said in complete confusion while pointing to the TV in your bedroom.

“They don’t.” you laughed and sat next to him at the edge of your bed “What we see is that thing called video that I told you about.”

“Sincerely still confusing, but I think I understand.” He admitted while exploratory pressing the buttons on the remote, shocked with how many things existed inside that illuminated box “I know this.”  You turned to look at the same spot he was, realizing he was talking about some random movie with the Roman legions on the cover.

“Oh yeah, there’s quite a bunch of movies about y’all and your fancy battle clothes.” You mentioned while looking into the grocery store bag you just found next to your bed, not remembering when that got lost there.

“But how do they have video from that time?” you couldn’t hold a genuine laugh at his adorable confusion.

“It’s not from your time, Acacius. It’s all acting as they did in Roman theaters, but now instead of only doing it in real-time, they record it so we can watch it multiple times, at any time we want.”

“How many amazing things exist in this time?” he questioned with an amused frown.

“A lot to be fair.” You found a bag of chips among your lost groceries “Lemme show you modern food.” You said as you opened the package and held it to him, with no second thoughts Acacius took a potato from the bag, savoring it as if it was a fine delicacy.

“This is what you eat every day?” He was already grabbing another chip from the package.

“Not ideally, but sometimes it happens.” You chuckled and grabbed the remote “Let’s watch this. Nothing like a real Roman general to tell me how accurate it is.” You settled better and played the movie.

You were surely amazed at his observations about the movie, sometimes perplexed with something absurdly inaccurate or highly excited with the facts that matched the reality while gladly savoring the potato chips. The most entertained you were, it was almost 8 am on Saturday and you’ve been awake since 6 am on Friday, so you didn’t even realize you started to melt on the bed, until you ended up fully asleep in an awkward position. When he stopped to listen to your opinions about his comments, Acacius looked at you, smiling discreetly as he saw you knocked out with one arm hanging out of the bed. Careful to not wake you, Acacius placed your asleep body the rest more comfortably and laid down on the other side of the bed, turning his gaze at you after looking around the whole room, still processing how amazing those modern things were and how you could be such a pleasing company despite your occasional rude manners.

"Acacius, I'm back." You said by the front door while taking off your coat. Not much later he showed up with a dishcloth in hand, taking a smile from you. "Hope you didn't make any mess in my kitchen." You joked despite knowing he hadn't.

"Can you trust me at least a bit?" He raised both eyebrows "I was just dealing with that plate cleaner thing." He said referring to your dishwasher, making you chuckle and shake your head. A week has passed and you were shocked by how good of a roommate Acacius was. He quickly understood how things worked nowadays to keep a house in order, accepting easily that no one would be around organizing the place and bringing him food as it used to be in his time, and he seemed to be quite fine with getting some tasks done, feeling useful and entertained while you were at work.

"I need to teach you how to use the vacuum cleaner." You chuckled and fell on the couch, pressing your temples and closing your eyes.

"Is everything alright?" Acacius moved to sit by your side, noticing your tension.

"They want to open the exposition next week." You said with a heavy breath "I don't know what I'm gonna do."

"Oh, my dear, I feel so sorry for causing you all this situation." He reached to touch your hand, looking at you with a guilty face.

"It's not your fault." You looked at him and smiled "And at the end, if I have to get stuck with any historical figure, I'm happy it's you." you hesitated for a moment, but surrendered to your desperate need for some comfort, tucking yourself between his arms and resting your head near the medusa figure of his armor he refused to take off. "Damn, you're probably the best man I ever met." It all got Acacius unprepared. You had exchanged some casual physical contact, especially because the two of you ended up falling asleep together every night while you showed him some new modern thing or asked him about how accurate the information you knew about his time was, he even occasionally woke up with your head resting on his arms a couple times, but nothing like that.

“I am really sorry to have met you in such complicated circumstances.” He started while wrapping his arms around you “But I have to agree with you about it, I wouldn’t choose another awkward sorceress to get stuck with.” He mentioned that in that casual sassy manner, making you look at him with a frown despite the silly smile on your face.

“I’m not a sorceress, it’s just technology. The awkward part, you might be right.” You shook your head while your fingers brushed against the medusa on his chest.

“It fits your beauty.” He said it with no flourishes, making your brain freeze for a moment, that was the last thing you expected to hear. Aware that your current situation couldn’t be worse, you stopped fighting against your rational thoughts and leaned forward, pressing your lips on his, not knowing what to expect from it, but being gladly surprised by the warm big hand rubbing your back as Acacius instinctively pulled you closer to him.

And everything became a blur. Nothing else mattered. For a moment you forgot that your job was at risk, that you had no idea why Acacius was there and for how long he’d stay, that was completely insane to fall in love with a man who could disappear in the blink of an eye just like he showed up, but you couldn’t do anything about it. Even before knowing him in person your affection towards him was a thing, since you never accepted how fate could’ve been so cruel to a good man, and after spending a whole week with him, feeling more at home and happy than ever, that feeling could only grow. To your luck, it wasn’t a one-sided thing. Acacius’ mind was a complete chaos on the first day, cursing the gods for having done such a thing with him, making him live once more with the vivid memory of his tragedy, but after spending some time with you, he started to consider it a gift from the gods; the chance of live again while having the company of such a peculiar figure like you, while having the unique experience of see by himself how the world evolved after Rome.

“I’m sorry.” Your whisper cut the line of thought of both of you as you leaned lightly backward “I shouldn’t have…” you were silenced by the thumb softly pressing your lips.

“Do not worry. I have finally known how the most spectacular thing from this time feels, I could not be more blessed by the gods.” You were incapable of thinking about an answer and he didn’t give you the time to do such a thing, pressing another kiss on your lips.

“Please, Mr. Bianchi, I promise you this is the last extra time I ask you.” You begged with all your might, unable to decipher your boss’ expression.

“Dear, I know your amazing work and for me, you could have a whole year with that statue, but it doesn’t depend solely on my wish as you know very well.” The old man spoke while aligning the pile of papers on his desk.

“Another week is all I ask.” You tried your chances, twisting your keys between your fingers.

“Impossible. The best I can do for you is a couple of days.”

“I understand.” You nodded, trying to keep yourself together, and got up, leaving the room after a weak goodbye.

You crossed the building of the museum faster than you ever had, glad that the visits were already closed, so you didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing the tears of despair rolling down your face. As you got out at the Capitoline Square, you walked around a couple of times in complete confusion. What would you do when they searched for the statue and only found the empty plinth? How would you convince anyone that your new roommate and lover was the lost statue? You certainly would go to jail accused of robbing the historical piece. Your academic career would be dead and buried and Acacius would be completely alone. Damn, you couldn’t bear the idea of him not knowing why you didn’t come back home or worse, thinking you had abandoned him voluntarily. The only way your life could not end in a disaster was if Acacius became a statue again, but that you could never wish for. Not only because your feelings towards him were almost unhealthily growing with each passing day or because you couldn’t imagine sleeping without his warmth again, but also because he seemed to be so happy and living such a light life, the life he deserved of all the misfortune he experienced before.

Standing in the middle of the empty Capitoline square, you stared at the replica of the equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius, feeling your rage on the verge of getting out of control.

“Your stupid bastard. Couldn’t you have kept your damn dream of Rome to yourself? Couldn’t you have changed the fucking Roman rules and let your damn daughter assume the empire so she would’ve never involved Acacius in all of this? Your dumb old man.” You angrily shouted at the bronze figure of Marcus Aurelius as if he could hear you and as if Geta and Caracalla’s cruelty towards Acacius was his fault either.

Not wanting to bear your thoughts any longer, you ran to your car and drove like crazy back home, aware that you would probably receive some notes from the transit department, and not caring about anything else but hiding yourself in Acacius’ arms and pretending nothing of that was true and that you were just a simple roman peasant that got lucky enough to catch the attention of the empire’s greatest general.

“Acacius?” you called passing by the front door, your heartbeat getting wilder when he didn’t show up like every day until then “Acacius?” you called louder while starting to look around the house. You heard some noises from your backyard and headed there, sighing relieved as you saw your general there, safe and sound. Then your attention moved to the whole scene and you finally understood Acacius’ unending questions about modern table setting and the specific things he asked from the grocery after going into your grandma’s recipe book. “What is all of this?” you asked with a wide smile, observing the picnic towel in the middle of your patio filled with most of the recipes of your grandma that you told Acacius were your favorites.

“You have been so good to me and you’re one of the best hosts I ever met. I thought it would be the minimum to try to reciprocate it.” He explained while stopping in front of you, placing his golden laurels on your head with a playful smile then held out one hand to you. You were anesthetized while holding his hand, your mind going blank of all worries and concerns. How could he become better at any passing second? You would never know.

Your heart felt light as a feather on the wind while you two shared that meal under the starry sky and your body was almost in a trance, making you unable to do better than nod with a silly smile at every word that fell from Acacius’ lips, fully convinced that if the afterlife paradise existed, it must be like that: sit on the grass and be fed on the mouth by a gold-hearted man while using his laurels crown.

“You look distracted.” Acacius observed while fiddling with a lock of your hair.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that all of this seems better than any good dream I ever had.” You moved to sit sideways on his lap; after two complete weeks and five days of living together, that already had become a casual move between the two of you.

“I am glad you enjoyed it.” He smiled warmly, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your forehead “And be warned that I intend to do it again.”

“You won’t hear a single complaint from me, general.” You chuckled and passed your hand through his graying hair, laying forward to rest your face against the curve of his neck.

“I am not sure if your personality would allow you such a thing, but I will have faith in you.” Acacius pressed a soft kiss on your temple and remained like that, enjoying the warm feel of you all nestled on his lap, not knowing when was the last time he felt so at peace, not even the annoying cold on his arm being able to disturb him at that moment.

 Having spent most of his life in the Roman wars, the feeling of being at home wasn’t a familiar sensation to him, but Acacius knew very well that being tangled at you in the middle of your patio with your breath tickling his neck was certainly his new definition of home, even in that strange period with its mechanisms that looked very much like some kind of wizard work and the memories of his first life haunting him, he still was unbothered by any of it.

“Are you tired?” he asked softly as your eyelids fell closed, caressing your face.

“No, I’m just too comfortable here.” You shifted slightly to look at him, smiling when he aligned the laurels on your head.

“Very well then, this was the goal.” He playfully pinched your cheek, making you chuckle and shrug.

“Damn, your hand is freezing.” You straightened yourself on his lap, rubbing his biceps to confirm that he was cold. “You’ll need a long-sleeved tunic to survive the winter.” You laughed and gave him a soft peck on the lips before leaning a bit backward, frowning as you felt a weird nudge on your back. You turned to look at what it was and immediately wished you had never done it, feeling the tears promptly forming in your eyes as you tried to deny the horrible truth, refusing to believe that Acacius’ whole right forearm was turning back into bronze. His gaze followed yours and he could only sigh exasperated when he saw it; despite imagining that the gods may not let him stay forever, he hoped it’d happen later. “No!” you shook your head in complete denial “This can’t be true.” You hugged him tight, hoping that was just a nightmare, but at the same time, you could feel his warmth fading away and his skin becoming as cold as the metal of his armor.

“Darling,” he cupped your face with his left hand, unable to move the other one “we both knew this might happen. Do not cry, everything will be alright, you will not have any trouble explaining my disappearance now.” It broke your heart how calmly he told you that, reminding you that he was the same man who surrendered in the coliseum to spare his stepson’s life, of course, he would only be happy and relieved that you would have a statue to present to your superior.

“It isn’t worth anything to me if I have to come back to my empty house every day. How am I supposed to go back to my old life now, Acacius? Who’ll make me explain to them that the singers aren’t trapped inside the radio?” you were already sobbing, holding onto his red cape for dear life.

“Ease yourself, dear. You are a very clever lady; I am sure you will be alright without me.” Acacius smiled tenderly, his eyes watery.

“I’ll not. This is not fair. I’ve dreamt my whole life about meeting you, and now that I did, you’ll leave me.” You clung to him like a scared child, feeling heartbroken with the idea of him coming back to be just a pile of bronze.

“Little dove, we both know this is not my place, no matter how much I loved every second spent with you. Furthermore, you’ll be close to me every day at the museum. It will be okay.” His voice was calm despite the crying tone. You still were in complete denial, but the rest of his arm also turning back into bronze was harshly bringing you back to reality.

“We should take you back to the museum, then.” That was the last thing you wanted to do, but there was no other choice.

The ride to the museum was dead silent, just like many authors said it happened at the coliseum the day Geta ordered Acacius’ assassination, and then you understood why the sepulchral silence was always mentioned in every work about the event, it was indeed a horrible thing to experience.

The way into the Capitoline Museum wasn’t the easiest, Acacius’ mobility was getting reduced and you could only curse Michelangelo for having put those huge ass stairs when he designed the place in the 16th century. Finally, at the Gallery floor of the Palazzo Nuovo, you entered the room you were designated to work in when Acacius’ statue arrived, feeling even more heartbroken when an invisible force seemed to put him back on top of the marble plinth and position his body exactly as it was the first time you saw it, the process of turn back to bronze seemed to be faster.

“Do you think we’ll ever see each other again?” you asked, sitting by the floor, desolated resting against the cold marble.

“Maybe not in this life, but I am sure we will meet again someday.” Acacius answered in a weak voice, just the upper part of his torso still in its human form.

“This is too much time.” You whined completely miserable, feeling like you didn’t have any more tears left.

“I am sure my clever lady will find a way to spend this time.” That warm affectionate smile was the last thing you saw before the rest of him turned back into bronze and his face recovered that serious imposing expression that made you so happy when the statue was found, and now would forever haunt your nightmares.

You grabbed the laurels crown that still was in your head holding it tight against your chest, wanting to protect the only tangible memory of him you had, but of course, fate wouldn’t be so generous, taking your last hope away when the golden crown unmade itself, just to show up again at the head of the statue that just a half hour ago was your companion, then you couldn’t hold it back anymore, screaming and crying while holding into the cold metal legs of the sculpture, feeling your stomach twist and your heart ache, sobbing until your whole head was hurting and you had no more forces to stand on your feet.

You had no idea of how you made your way back home that night when you woke up on your couch, you didn’t dare to lay on your bed, fearing that Acacius’ scent might no be gone from your bedsheets and already certain you would never have the courage of wash them. You spend the whole day walking around the house like a zombie, also not daring to look at your backyard, aware that you didn’t have the strength to revive that final happy memory with him. You ignored the 20 lost calls of your boss, only calling him back by the end of the day to ask for a few days off, claiming that you were sick and your voice hoarse from your uninterrupted cry made the excuse very convincing.

A couple of days later you heard that the opening exhibition of Acacius’ statue was a success, and that would be all your contact with it. You wouldn’t dream of showing up there, you didn’t even know if you’d be able to ever enter the museum again, especially when you found out that after the first week, it would probably go to the same room as The Dying Gaul, so every day when you got up the staircase you would face it, wanting you or not.

That whole next week passed like a confused mess in your memory, you never knew when was the last time you had slept, eaten, or taken a shower. All you knew was your computer screen and the pile of papers and snack packages forming around it, wasn’t an unusual scenario, since a lot of your work required research, however, the difference this time was the content. You always valued facts with reliable bibliographical sources, yet there you were, reading articles written by people that in any other scenario, you would completely despise the work and refuse to read, but in desperate times, desperate measures are called for. You started with serious stuff such as Einstein's theory of gravity, but it didn’t lead you to any positive answer about time traveling or anything that could bring Acacius back, so you started to dive into dubious corners of the internet and searched all the roman mythology book you had to see if there was any legend that could give you any clue of what to do, but of course all that lead to nothing, you would even had searched about it on the dark web if that tutorial you followed had worked.

After days of non-stop research and at the edge of burnout, your logical thought finally seemed to be back, making you come to your senses for a second and realize that all that was bullshit. What happened to you and Acacius was probably an isolated situation that never could be replicated. Overthinking everything and having a manic episode, you saw yourself finally having the strength to deep clean the nasty place your house had become while talking to yourself about how ridiculous that was.

The only thing that you didn’t foresee was that brand new wave of sadness when you saw yourself standing in the middle of your perfectly clean and silent house, hoping that at any moment you would see Acacius showing up with a random electronic device asking you how it worked.

But he wouldn’t do it, never again.

The unique nature of your relationship that a few hours earlier served as a consolation, turned into your new nightmare. It had been an exceptional occasion, supposing that the gods existed, they probably just had accidentally messed up with some timeline and put you and Acacius together. Of course, it had to be an accident, there was no way your relationship would be manageable, at least not in 2024, if you were the one mistakenly showing up in ancient Rome, maybe it could work, but it wasn’t like that.

You entered another spiral of insanity, repeating to yourself that there was no chance of it ever happening again while you sobbed curled up on the side of the bed Acacius used to sleep, confirming that his scent indeed was still there. As you planned originally, you didn’t wash the bedsheets or the dishcloth he last touched, just like the dress you were wearing the night he turned into bronze again, preserving every crumb of his smell you could, and also going into some more serious business, taking a tone of pregnancy tests as you realized your period was late and praying to every force above for a positive result, hoping to have a part of Acacius with you, and feeling like the world was ending when after all the negatives, your period showed up.

Despite feeling like your life was over, after two weeks, you had to go back to the museum, looking away or closing your eyes every damn time you had to pass in front of the Sala del Gladiatore where now Acacius’ statue was, facing the Dying Gaul sculpture and the door, making it harder to ignore, especially if added the fact that the Gaul was your favorite statue of the museum, certainly a cruel joke of the destiny.

On that random ordinary afternoon, you were unworriedly turning off the hallway lights, after so much time working there, you managed to walk among the statues in the dim light without being terrified. You were ready to go downstairs, but saw that someone did you the favor of forgetting to turn off the light in that room you avoided for so long, for a moment you considered just letting it be, but you knew that was a risky move that could even start a fire, so you built the courage to walk in, planning to quickly turn off the light and leave, but you failed even before trying, passing through the switch near the door with no second thoughts.

You smiled as you stopped in front of the Dying Gaul, only then realizing you had missed him too; you used to pass there almost every day to look at him, but since they brought the general’s statue to the room two months before, you never entered there again. For a moment you wondered if it was just your confused mind or if the Gaul and Acacius looked a lot like each other.

After building the courage, you turned around to face Acacius, feeling that familiar sting in your heart. Indulging your search for some comfort, you sit by the floor, resting your back against the wall, just staying there for a moment.

“I have to admit you were right. I found a way to spend time. I adopted a dog, you know, a Pitbull mix, the cutest little guy. I named him Justino if you catch my drift.” You chuckled and looked at the other statues in the room. “Y’all stop judging me, I had to share with someone.” You looked up at Acacius, smiling widely as you briefly recalled the night when he became human. “I miss you, general, and sometimes I rewatch that horrible movie about the Roman army you found amazing. I hope you know I haven’t stopped thinking about you, I just needed time to put myself together. I’ll probably never stop thinking about our time together, and probably will show up here every day from now on.” You sighed and got up, looking at him with a sad smile “I cursed your gods a lot, but now I can only thank them for having messed up with whatever cable that controls the timelines of the world.” You reached one arm up, managing to touch one of his hands, relaxing with the familiar form, even with the warmth absent. “You’ll always hold a place in my heart.” You closed your eyes and allowed your head to fall forward, resting your forehead against the bronze surface. “Ubi tu gaius, ego gaia.” You mumbled quietly, taking a moment there before building the courage to walk away, turning off the light, and getting downstairs, wondering if would be a good idea to try to convince Mr. Bianchi to allow pets at the museum, at least for one day, so you could take Justino to meet Acacius and finally see the man you told him so much about and named him after.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Inspired by recent events - how would modern AGSZC handle long haul international travel? The airports, the flights and the inevitable jet lag

♯ Angeal always tries to find the positive and bright side of everything, so he's game for anything. He’s the one making checklists, planning every detail, ensuring everyone’s luggage is in order, and being just a little neurotic (just a little) he sees it as part of the fun and a way to ensure everything goes smoothly. Even jet lag can’t dampen his spirits! He views it as just another part of the adventure.

*Angeal kicks the door down*

Angeal: To whoever had the audacity to go up to the packing checklist I've helpfully pinned to the fridge and write 'calm down Angeal', I just want you to know that I'M FUCKING!! CALM! I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO CALM IN ALL MY LIFE—HEY! GENESIS YOU GET BACK HERE AND EXPLAIN WHY I FOUND A WHOLE BOTTLE OF LIQUOR IN YOUR LUGGAGE? WE'RE GOING ON A BUSINESS TRIP, YOU DONUT, NOT TO A RESORT. IF I GET ONE WHIFF OF ALCOHOL ON YOUR BREATH I'M THROWING YOU FROM THE AIRPLANE!

*Sephiroth and Zack are watching from a distance*

Zack: Why is Angeal screaming at the wall?

Sephiroth: Don't look, Zack.

♯ Genesis loves traveling and views every aspect of it as part of the vacation, thanks to his aesthete heart. Packing is an artform to him, creating playlists for the car ride to the airport is essential, selecting books, and planning which episodes of his dramas to catch up on during the flight. Jet lag would be a downer for him, but he's rarely sleeping on vacation anyway, preferring to be out partying. But once he's back needs at least two days to recuperate.

*Genesis is sitting in the briefing room with sunglasses and a cocktail. Zack is fanning him*

Lazard: Commander, this is ridiculous. Your vacation ended two days ago.

Genesis: On the contrary, director. I'm still on vacation.

Lazard: Your theatrics are disrupting the workspace.

Genesis: No they're not.

*Sephiroth and Angeal walk in and immediately slip and fall on the sand that's scattered on the floor*

♯ Sephiroth is convinced that no one in the world hates taking trips more than he does. Work trips are terrible, and the 'getting there' part of vacations is dreadful no matter the 'distractions' he brings to keep his mind busy. Honestly, he'd be a happier person if teleportation were more widely used so he could just appear at places randomly. He's a homebody who loves the comfort of his own space and values his sleep, so jet lag hits him hard.

Zack: Hey, how are you—

Sephiroth: I haven't slept in 22 hours and if I don't drink something caffeinated and release my anger within the next minute, then I will be forced to enlist the help of the shadow that's been following me around all day to tape your mouth shut.

Zack: What shadow?

Sephiroth:

Zack, panicking: WHAT SHADOW?

♯ Zack loves trips, partly because his upbringing in Gongaga made him eager to see the world. He's just happy to be there, though he hates packing and always forgets to bring essential stuff like his underwear and toothbrush. But that's what Angeal is for! Jet lag is nonexistent to him because he can and will sleep through anything, as long as he has a comfortable enough space. The only thing he can't deal with about trips is the sitting still part... yeah, he needs to stretch his legs or else he starts to lose his mind.

*In the airplane*

Genesis: Are you alright? Your eye is twitching and your knees are shaking.

Zack: I can't take this anymore.

Genesis: Read a book.

Zack: I hate reading.

Genesis: Watch a movie.

Zack: I can't focus.

Genesis: Then do one of the two things I do when I'm bored—either poke Angeal with a back scratcher until he explodes or challenge Sephiroth to an arm wrestling match.

Zack:

Zack: Somehow I feel like Sephiroth breaking my arm is the safer option.

Genesis: It is.

Zack: Alright.

♯ IF Cloud survives the motion sickness, he will not be a happy camper during the trip.

Cloud: I feel like I'm gonna throw up.

Sephiroth: Ginger is known to reduce nausea and prevents vomiting. Consuming ginger in the form of tea, candy, or even chopped pieces can be effective to combat nausea and vomiting.

Cloud: Do you have ginger?

Sephiroth: No.

Cloud: Then why the hell would you bring that up?

Sephiroth: It's always nice to learn something new, Cloud.

Cloud: *visibly annoyed*

Sephiroth: I realize I've made a mistake. I'm in the splash zone.

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

okay but cowboy!reader taking jj horseback riding when they visit his parents town for a case. they don't come back to his parents house (where they're all staying- readers mom wouldn't take no for an answer) until the early morning and the team teases them about it the next morning over homemade breakfast. reader is all blushey about it because he just genuinely lost track of time showing jj around and jj just isn't phased by the teasing. buddy distracting everyone from the conversation by finally getting fed bacon.

- 🦦

PART ONE (this can be read alone, but it starts the day after part one)

Description: Being close to home, the team finally get to meet reader's family. Things start out great and then... Not so much. Reader makes sure his younger brother knows that despite what their parents have said, he's still there for them.

Warning: homophobia, someone nearly says the f-slur twice (they don't say the whole thing, reader puts them in their place), mentions of going to conversion therapy, pro-conversion therapy views, being kicked out because of sexuality, unaccepting parents, unaccepting sibling (Jason's a bit of a dick and I stand by that). I think that's everything.

A/N: Sorry if this seems rushed at all aha (it's like 3k words but idk worried it's rushed). Also just to clarify I'm against conversion therapy (i'm saying it as a just in case it needs to be said).

Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies @woodandwaxwings @wizardmon3 @aphroditeslovr @ducks118 @azeal-peal @13thdoctor-run @introvertpan84 @goth-boi-atlas

You all met in the lobby at nine the next morning, you winced, seeing the appearance of the rest of the team, “Y’all okay?”

“No,” They groaned simultaneously. 

“Alright, well, breakfast is on me,” You chuckled, “And I’ll drive so you can all sleep on the way there,” You held back a laugh as they all relaxed in relief (well, minus Rossi and Hotch who always made sure to be relatively simple with their drinking). 

It wasn't a long drive, two hours max, before you arrived home. When you got out of the car, you drew in a deep breath, childhood memories rushing in. You had missed his place. You tried to get back as much as you could, for holidays and birthdays, but it never felt enough.

“Hi Mama!” You cheered, walking towards her with a grin.  

“(Y/N)! What are you doing with your shoes on?” She raised her eyebrows, putting her hands on her hips. “Boy you know you need to take them off when you get in!” Alice, your Mama, looked up, seeing the panicked look of the team, she continued, “Oh, y'all don't need to worry your pretty little faces about it, (Y/N) should have remembered.” 

“Sorry Mama,” You responded, quickly taking your shoes off and removing your hat and giving her a kiss on the cheek, “How are y’all?”

“We're all okay, son,” A gruff voice sounded through the room.

“Pops!” You grinned, giving your father a handshake before a hug. “Where's the squirt?” You asked, looking around.

“I'm not that much smaller than you,” Aden rolled his eyes, you didn’t respond, simply pulling your younger brother into an embrace.

“I didn’t realise he was such a hugger,” Emily smirked slightly as she spoke to your mother.

“Oh, (Y/N)’s always been a hugger,” Alice says, “He’s a complete softy.”

“We could never have known.” Morgan said before continuing, “Especially with all his reckless shoot outs,”

“His what?” Your Pops exclaimed. 

“You're such an ass-” You hissed, turning to Morgan with a glare. 

“Y/N!” Alice exclaimed.

“Sorry Mama! See y'all come over and now I'm in trouble every few minutes,” You said, turning your attention back to the team. 

“Is what this lovely man said true?”

“Yes Mama, but in my defence-”

“Good luck son,” You Pops said, patting your shoulder. “Can I get anyone a drink? I reckon Alice’ll be chewing him out for a least ten minutes,”

Three minutes into the lecture, the door opened and closed loudly. You turned and saw your older brother, Jason, walk in.

“Well I'll be damned, if it isn't my snotty nosed younger brother!” Your head snapped up and your Mama wrapped up her lecture as you walked towards your brother.  

“Jason! How you been?!” You pull him into a tight embrace.

“Not too bad, not too bad.” Jason answered, “Plodding along,”

Your attention switched over to Emily as she cleared her throat, “Oh! Sorry, this is my team. So Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, Garcia, Emily, JJ, and Reid,”

“I think you only had a younger brother?” 

“Oh, er, Jason was Mama and Papa’s first child and then they adopted me and Aden,” You quickly explained.

“I see, don’t mention your least favourite brother, I see how it is,” Jason teased, you rolled your eyes. 

“Whatever,” Jason laughed and gently shoved you. 

“Ladies, y’all can take the spare room,” You said, “Gents, y’all can take my room. Aden, you lucky thing, get me sleepin on your floor,” Aden groaned loudly, causing the team to chuckle. 

You had a few hours to settle down and you showed the team around, showing them who’s room was who’s, by the time you were settled, you were being told that it was time for dinner. And soon enough you were all sat around the table. 

"Mrs (L/N), we were wondering if you had any good stories on young y/n here?" Derek asks with a grin.

Your face pales as your Mama smile, "Mama, that's not really necessary-"

“Nonsense! Your team wants to learn more about you,” She gave you a smile, patting your cheek. You found yourself sinking in your chair. “Sit up straight,” 

“Yes Ma’am,” You turned to Morgan, “I’ll get you back for this,” You mumbled, turning to your mashed potatoes. 

“We used to have this horse, Cinnamon,” You Mama started and you found yourself groaning in embarrassment. 

“You don’t even know what story Mama’s going to tell,” Jason pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter, they’re all embarrassing,” You mumbled. 

“He used to sneak out at night to sleep in her stable,” Your Mama began. 

"Which would have been adorable if he wasn't sixteen," Jason snorted, you groaned loudly.

"Can you not embarrass me in front of my colleagues?" 

"You do that yourself," Aden chimed in with a smirk.

“Kid, don’t test me-”

“Whatever, you’re an old man now,” Aden shot back. “Has (Y/N) told you about the time he got escorted out of a rodeo for threatenin’ the judges?”

“Oh god, I forgot about that!” You groaned loudly, placing your head in your hands as your team laughed loudly. 

When night time rolled around, you parted ways with your team. The men heading to one room, the ladies heading to the other. You and Aden made your way to his room. You set up the sleeping bag and laid down. Eventually, Aden hopped into his bed, turning off his lamp and leaving you both in darkness. 

“Which one is the one you have a crush on?” Aden asked you, breaking the silence.

“Hm?”

“The one you message me about,” 

“Oh, JJ,” You said. “The blonde one without glasses,” 

“Oh, she’s pretty.” Aden said, “You should totally ask her out.”

“Not that simple I’m afraid kid,” You sighed, “We work together.”

“No, it is that simple, grown ups just complicate everything for no reason.” You paused, taking in his words. He did have a point, (sort of). 

“I guess.” You shrugged, “I dunno, guess I’m scared of rejection.”

“That would make sense,” Aden shrugged, “Given our past n all,”

“Dr Aden over here,” You joked. 

Aden paused for a moment, shifting so he could look at you, “I think I wanna be a profiler when I’m older,” 

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Aden gave a small smile, “I think I could help do some good.”

“Aw, you wanna be just like you’re big brother,” You teased before sobering up, “I think you’d be good at it,”

“Really?” You smiled as his face lit up.

“Definitely, you got a smart brain in there, kid.”

“Thanks!” Aden laid back down, the pair of you smiling softly to yourselves. Silence took over for a few seconds. “Y/N can I tell you something?” Aden asked into the darkness.

“Sure, kid, what's up?”

There was a small pause, before Aden’s voice laced with anxiety piped up, “Promise it won't make you hate me?”

“Nothing you say would make me hate you, kiddo.” You said strongly. “Ever.”

“I- I like boys, I'm gay.”

You couldn’t help but smile, “Kid, that's okay. You're allowed to like boys, there's nothing wrong with it.” You reassured, Aden breathed a sigh of relief.

“I wanna tell Mama and Pops, could you wait close by in case it goes badly?”  

“Of course, but I'm sure it'll go okay. When did you want to tell them?” 

“Hmm… Two days time? I feel like that gives me some prep time.” 

“Okay kid,” You said, “Now get some sleep,”

“A’right, night, (Y/N),”

“Night Aden,” You said, “Love you kid,”

“You too,” He yawned. 

JJ opening the door and chiming a ‘good morning’ is what woke you at eight am the next morning. Normally, you would have been mad, having been woken up so early. But seeing JJ smile at you seemed to put the world right. 

“Mornin’,” You replied, your voice deep from sleep. “You sleep well?” 

“You betcha cowboy,” She responded with a twinkle in her eyes, you huffed a laugh. “Your mum says breakfast will be ready in ten minutes.”

Both you and Aden sat up at the mention of food. “We’ll be right down.” Aden said. When JJ had left, Aden turned back to you. “Where’s Buddy?”

“Sleeping in Mama and Pops’ room, apparently they’ve missed him more than me,” Aden gave a laugh as he left the room. 

After breakfast, you sat on your couch, staring out the window into your backyard when JJ sat next to you. “You know, when you were talking about your childhood yesterday, I realised something.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve never ridden a horse before,” 

You bit your lip, forcing yourself to keep a variety of different jokes in your head - reminding yourself that it wasn’t the time or the place. 

“Never?” You asked instead, and she shook her head. 

“Nope, not once.”

“Would you like to? We’ve got horses,” You said, “I’m sure Mama and Pops won’t mind. I could even show you around a bit.”

JJ looked at you before nodding. “Yeah, okay,” She gave you a smile. 

When you both got back it dark, you put both the horses back in the stables, following the usual steps (picking out the hooves and such) before you gave them an apple each and thanked them (something you always did after a ride). With that, you made your way back into the house. 

“Well hey there stud,” Is what greeted you. You stared at Morgan, jaw dropped. “You two kids have been out a while,”

“I showed her around town,” You explained, feeling an awful lot like a teenager who stayed out past curfew. 

“Uh-huh,” Penelope chimed, folding her arm.

“Hey, hey now,” You responded, “I just showed her around town, I showed her where I went to school, things like that.”

“Just ignore them,” JJ replied, giving you a smile, “They clearly don’t have anything better to do.”

“You wound me with your words,” 

“Children, stop arguing,” Your Mama chimed, “Agent Rossi and Agent Hotchner has helped me cook dinner.”

“Rossi and Hotch are gonna be your new dads,” Morgan teased, you grabbed the closest pillow, throwing it at his head. 

And soon enough, you were all sat around the table eating. “I’m just saying,” Aden said, he, Morgan, Prentiss, and Garcia grinning at you, “It’s a bit suspicious that you only took JJ out.”

You opened your mouth to argue when you witnessed Buddy stand on his hind legs and steal some bacon off of Morgan’s plate. 

"Buddy!" Your eyes are wide as Buddy runs off with all of Morgan's bacon. "I am so sorry-!" You explain before running after him. "Buddy I thought we were trying a raw diet?!" 

Buddy barked and your jaw dropped, "Don't take that tone with me, Mister." 

“And on that note, I think we should all call it a night,” Your Pops said with a chuckle. 

A few hours later, you laid back in your sleeping bag in the dark, “I think I’m going to tell them tomorrow.” Aden said thoughtfully, “I want it over with.”

“A’right kid,” You said, “I’ll be there,”

“I know, you’re always there when I need you,” Aden sat up to give you a smile, “Except for that time when you were too busy getting to know Rosie-”

“Hey, you told me you were fine, don’t open that can of worms kid-” Aden cut you off with a fit of laughter and soon enough you joined in. “You damn near gave me a heart attack with that.”

“That’s because you’re an old man.” You gasped dramatically.

“How dare you!” 

“Boys you better go to sleep!” You heard your Mama exclaim through the door and you both struggled to keep your laughter quiet.

It was JJ that woke you that morning as well (something you could quite happily get used to). When she left, once again the pair of you got ready for the day. 

“I think I might tell Mama and Pops before breakfast. I want to get it over with.”

“A’right, kiddo, I’ll be right outside, okay?” You reassured and he nodded. You gathered our clothes, getting dressed in the bathroom whilst Aden got changed in the bedroom. And then the pair of you walked downstairs, you waiting outside the kitchen door in the living room whilst Aden walked inside.

It had only been two minutes when Morgan approached you. “You good?” Morgan asked, seeing you standing in the living room staring intently at the kitchen door. You turned to him and gave a nod.

“Yeah, Aden wanted me close while he tells Mama and Pops something.” You answered, giving Morgan a small smile, “He was a bit nervous,”

The door flew open and closed again, looking at you for a split second before flinging his arms around you as he gave a small sob. “Kid? Kiddo, what's wrong?” You asked, rubbing circles on his back.  

“You were wrong, it wasn't okay.” Aden cried.

“What’d they say?”  

“That it’s wrong and I need conversion therapy.” Aden’s answer was short but made your stomach drop. 

“Aden, look at me. There is nothing wrong with you. What they say don't matter, you hear me? They're bigots.” Your eyes flicked up to JJ, Emily, Penelope, and Spencer as they wandered in, concerned, “Why don't yall go pack some stuff, okay? 'm gonna talk to Mama and Pops, okay?”

You waited until Aden was out of the room before you walked in, “Y’all wanna tell me what the fuck you just said to that kid? He's crying his eyes out.”

“We told him the truth.” Your Mama answered.

“Really and what would that be?” You asked, folding your arms.

“That we don't want the likes of him under this roof.” Your Pops is the one who answered this time. 

“The likes of him?”

“He's a homosexual!” Your Pops exclaimed, his face slowly starting to turn red.

“He's your son.” You stated.

“He's a fa-”

“Don't you even fuckin call him that again, you hear me?” You exclaimed, “I don't care if you're our pops, you call him that again I knock you out, understood?”

“We're your parents,” Your Mama exclaimed, “Where's your respect?”

“Funny enough, Ma, my respect left the minute you told my baby brother that the only way he would be accepted in this household is if he changed himself.”

“How are you defendin’ him?” She asked. 

“There's nothing wrong with being gay.” You scoffed loudly, were they really so blatantly homophobic?

“It's disgustin’!” 

“He's your son-”

“He's a sinner.”

“He’s a fourteen year old boy!” You could feel yourself starting to lose your temper.

“We've told him he can stay if he goes to conversion therapy.” 

“Then he's leavin’. I'll look after him.” You state. 

“You want him? Take him. We don't want a fa-” You don’t realise you’re reacting until you’re swinging. You hear a slight crunch as it hits his nose, you ignore it. You also ignore the pain that flashes through your hand on impact.

“I told you not to fuckin’ talk about my brother like that.” You state, pointing harshly at him. “Don’t fuckin’ talk about him like that.”

“(Y/N), You need to step out of the room,” You didn’t even realise Derek was in the room, until his fingers are wrapping around your shoulders in an attempt to pull you out of the room. You quickly shrug his arm off you.

“Y’all don't deserve a kid like Aden,” You leave the room, wanting nothing more than to go back in there and talk some sense into them. Instead you force yourself shoulders back, force yourself to take a deep breath and turn to Aden, “Come on kid, let's go. You okay with stayin’ with me for a while?” 

“What’s going on?” Jason asked, walking into the room.

You turned to Aden, waiting until he nodded before you continue, “Aden just told Ma and Pops he’s gay and they told him to go to conversion therapy.”

Jason nods, “Good, it’ll help him.”

You scoff loudly, “You know what? I was so fuckin’ wrong about this family. Come on, Aden, we’re goin’,”

“You wait in the car, we’ll round up the others,” JJ said, placing her hand on your arm as she gives you a small smile. Aden follows you with his head down, hands in front as he anxiously picked at his nails.

You opened the passenger door for him, motioning for him to get in (the others could make do in the back for now, you needed to check on your brother). “Whatchya thinkin’?”

“I screwed all this up,” Aden whispers, “(Y/N)- I’m so sorry,”

“What? Hey, no,” Your answer is immediate, “Kid you did nothin’ wrong.”

“But now Mama and Pops don’t want anything to do with us, it’s just us.” Aden said, “I screwed it all up and now we’re back to square one.”

“Hey, no.” You keep your voice firm, “You did nothin’ wrong, what you told them is perfectly acceptable. It’s them that has the problem, a’ight? If that’s a make or break deal, then so be it.”

“But-”

“Kid, I would choose you over anyone, any day.” You said, “You’re my brother, which means you’re stuck with me for life. You hear me? I would rather have no one and still have you than have everyone without you,”

“But I-”

“You did nothin’ wrong.” You answer strongly. 

“(Y/N)-”

“No, kid, I won’t have you thinking anything bad about yourself because of this,”

“I was just going to say that I think you need to go to the hospital,” He said, pointing to your hand, which was already bruising and beginning to swell.

“I’ll be fine,” You said, shrugging him off. 

“Did you punch him?”

“Yep,” You replied, not one to lie to your brother, even about something like this. “He said some unacceptable things.”

“About me?”

“Yeah, kid. So I broke his nose.” 

“I think you also broke your hand,” Aden pointed out. 

“I did not break my hand.”

“Prove it.”

“How can I even prove that?”

“Straighten your hand.”

You stared at him, “Fine.” You begin to straighten your hand out, “Okay, you’re right,”

Rossi opened the door, “What’s the kid right about?”

“He broke his hand,” You stared at him in disbelief. “What? You weren’t gonna tell him.” You huffed.

“To the hospital we go,” Hotch chimed, motioning for you and Aden to move into the back so he and Rossi could sit up front with him driving. 

“Sir-”

“We don’t want to hear it,” Rossi said, you huffed once more glaring at Morgan as he laughed. 

And that’s how you ended up with a cast on your hand and a scowl.

[hroscek]

✎📃Dottore studying headcanons📚

Back again with more Dottore content. This is a bit of a mix between a modern au but still somehow compliant with Genshin? Idk I just wanted to write ab him studying and projecting finding inspiration in my own life without having to explain how he has access to YouTube in his akademiya days okay? Anyways enjoy and make sure to study if you happen to be procrastinating at the moment (I will know)!

⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜

Dottore study headcanons

Probably the type that ultra-focuses on the material in front of him leading to generally neglecting any and all other needs until he physically can't anymore (nearly burnt down his dorm via hair catching fire from a candle when he fell asleep at the desk)

Thinks he's above attending lectures so he'd definitely be that one student that never shows up but still ends up acing the exams.

Fully believes that he must achieve a state of total focus to optimize his brain. This starts as threatening the other students into leaving him alone as he studies, drawing the curtains and shutting out all other distractions. Probably spent too much on finding a good noise-cancelling headset.

After getting kicked out gracefully parting ways with the akademiya he devoted some time to trying to find ways to improve his focus even more. I'm talking full blown rounds of experimentation with different methods such as binaural beats (actually works tbh), sensory deprivation tanks etc. Sort of how greater lord rukkhadevata would shut herself away to meditate, but he would never admit how similar their methods are.

Honestly I wouldn't be surprised if the original Dottore is just floating in a state of meditation rn trying to achieve max brain power (legit a headcanon for me now lmao).

Seeing as he probably doesn't sleep much, especially when in the thick of experiments he tries his best to compensate in other ways. He drank an inhuman amount of coffee or energy drinks (or both at the same time tbh) until he grew a tolerance to all forms of caffeine and is now forced to actually sleep once in a while.

He is intimately familiar with is work area and instantly knows where everything is. To outsiders it looks like a mess of various documents, piles of paper, supplies and mechanical parts. Often he asks a new intern to fetch him a sheet or something and they'll spend hours looking for it in the raven's nest that man calls an office. Then he'll show up pissed as hell like "It was under the desk next to the 3rd used energy core. Are you really that stupid?".

When he's in the zone he's deathly silent, his eyes laser focused on whatever page or machine he's trying to figure out. An observer might be afraid he'll burn a hole trough the object with his eyes. This is probably the only time he doesn't wear his mask as he doesn't want anything to obstruct him. Archons couldn't help the unfortunate soul who dares to interrupt him in this state. Instant volunteer for his next experiment.

Pantalone once decided to gift him with an expensive stationery set in a desperate attempt to get him to organize his study. It included quills, ink, various highlighters and organizers all in pastels with cute motifs. "To bring some positivity to the gloomy atmosphere around you!". Dottore claimed to hate it but was seen months later using a kitten-themed notepad at one of his labs.

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Another post, another slay (probs a flop). I'm currently taking a half-voluntary gap year because I decided to switch universities a little too late in the year oops. And honestly in this time I've realized how much I thrive in the academic environment and I miss studying so much! Idk might sound a bit too optimistic coming from someone who's currently not under any pressing deadlines or tests but I really do miss it. As much as I hated crunching the night before a test and stressed about the material I believe it's an environment I truly thrive in. I really do find such comfort in being able to take notes, discuss with classmates and professors. It's probably one of the many reasons I find Dottore relatable. We both share such a thirst for knowledge and focus way too much on our favorite subjects. I'm rambling, sorry. Thank you so much for reading and please don't be shy to send me asks or comments with ideas you'd like me to expand upon. I'm still pretty new to writing in fandom space so I'd really be grateful to get feedback and see what the community wants lol.

Have a good day! ❀

[wren-writes-stuff]

Of Lattes And Lab Rats: Chapter 4- Tripleshot Espresso

(See here for masterlist and warnings. This story is 18+!!!)

It's three more days before you see Jayce come in again, despite what you agreed.

The first and second days, you give him a pass- maybe something came up at work and he just couldn't make it. It happens, you supposed. Your feelings were a little hurt, but you tried not to let it get to you.

The third day, your feelings really were hurt. Maybe he'd decided he didn't like you after all? Or maybe you'd misread him, and it wasn't a date. Did you misremember the day? Maybe you'd done something to upset him.

Your mind is elsewhere your whole shift, and you make significantly more mistakes than usual. Poe notices, and whisks you into the supply room as soon as the rush slows down. His yellow eyes are full of concern, feathery eyebrows furrowed together.

"You're making a lot of mistakes today, girly. This isn't like you. Are you alright?"

You nod, slightly frustrated with yourself for not hiding it better. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I'm just distracted. I'll do better, I promise."

Poe looks you over, his concern unwavering. You can tell he doesn't believe you entirely, but he doesn't push for more information. He places a sharp-clawed hand on your shoulder, gently reassuring you.

"I'm here if you need anything. I know we're not friends and I'm just ya' boss, but I mean it. I want to help, if I can."

You shrug, patting his hand gently. "Thank you, but I promise I'm okay." You try to sound convincing- for both your sakes.

You open your mouth to say more, until the service bell dings from the other room, signaling a waiting customer. Poe's gaze softens, and he lets go of your shoulder.

"Do you need a break? I can cover for you for a while if you'd like." You shake your head "no."

"That's okay, Poe. Maybe if you let me off early though?" You say, only half joking. Poe chuckles.

"Yeah, alright. You deserve it. I can't remember the last time you had a day off, now that I think about it, girly. Take tomorrow for yourself."

You stutter, surprised. "B-but...I mean, I don't think I can afford to miss a shift, Poe. Rent's due soon, and-" He cuts you off.

"Think of it as a paid sick day. I'll cover for you, it's okay. You deserve it." The bell dings again, twice this time. "Go," he says. "I'll be in the office. You're off at four today."

You head back to your station, fixing your apron as you go.

"Welcome to The Roost," You exclaim with fake cheeriness. "Sorry about the wait-"

You look up from your apron ties finally, and find none other than Jayce, shifting his weight uncomfortably. He looks exhausted. A five o'clock shadow graces his face, and his hair is slightly disheveled. Concern paints your emotions at first, before it sours to annoyance. You try your best to be friendly anyway. "Oh. Hello, again. What can I get you?" He smiles wearily at you, fidgeting with his hands.

"Triple-shot espresso, if you please." He croaks. His voice is deep and gravelly, like he just woke up- but looking at the clock, it's almost one PM. You grab a cup from the stack, surprised.

"That's quite a bit of caffeine," you say coolly, "You sure you want three?"

"Better make it four, actually," He says through a yawn.

"Sheesh, mister," you write his name and a '4' on the cup, "You must be pret-ty tired." You turn around to start on his drink. "What's got you up at night?" You weren't going to make conversation, but there was no one in line; and despite your chagrin, it seems rude not to.

"Something came up at work, and I've had to pull a couple all nighters to get things done." You can't see him, but you hear him yawn again. You turn around.

"Did you want this as a latte or just straight black?"

"Hmm...whatever you put in my tea last time was delicious. Can I have that?" You preen just a bit at his compliment, but you're still too annoyed to show it.

"Sure," You say flatly, and fight the blush on your face as you turn back to the task at hand.

"Listen, I-" Jayce starts to speak, but you flip on the milk steamer with a loud and terrible screeching sound before he can finish.

You wish it was intentional.

"Listen, I'm sorry I didn't come to see you like I said I would. I got busy with work, and...I don't know. I was a little nervous," he admitted. You stifle a scoff.

"Nervous?"

That's your excuse?, you think to yourself. He fiddles with his wallet. You think about giving him your shift drink again, but think better of it.

"Two cogs and a hex, please."

You ring him up on the register, drop in his coins (you tried very hard not to think too hard about how your fingertips brushed his palm when you grabbed them), and scribble a receipt for him on the paper pad. His finger tips brushed yours as he took it from you (and the teenage girl inside you was absolutely screaming.)

He's still looking at you with guilt, and you realize you never actually accepted his apology. You're still annoyed, but you concede. It's hard to stay mad at him with those dopey puppy eyes.

"It's okay," you sigh. "Shit happens, I get it. I-"

"Ah-Ah-Ah!" You turn around with a start, only to find Poe lingering behind you. He looks embarrassed, feathers standing up straight. "We don't swear at the customers, my dear girl. I thought I trained you better-"

"It's okay," Jayce cuts him off, and his crown feathers relax a tad. "She's a friend of mine. I know she meant well." He smiled tiredly, and you give Jayce a silent "thank you" in your mind for saving you from a lecture. Poe gives him a small bow.

"I see." He adjusts the half-moon glasses sitting on his beak, standing up straighter.

"Well, my dear girl, I believe it's time for you to go. Thank you for your hard work today."

"But...it's only One O'clock. I thought you said I was off at-" you try to protest, but he shushes you.

"Go on and spend some time with your friend." He shoots you a fatherly wink, and the heat that already colors your face intensifies in embarrassment. "I've got it from here, girly. Go ahead."

You give him a small smile, and glance over at Jayce.

"Wait for me outside?"

"Sure." He smiles at you, and your stomach twists. He heads towards the door, bell chiming.

'Thank you, Poe. I owe you one." You head to the office to hang up your hat and apron, grab your purse, and walk outside to meet Jayce. He leans against the window like he did just three days ago, practically asleep on his feet. You nudge him gently to get his attention.

"Hey," you say softly, "You okay?" He yawns, rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah, sorry," he croaks.

"We don't actually have to hang out," you say apologetically. "I'm sorry about him. He means well, but...hah, I dunno. Um, if you need to get back to work, I can walk you over there?" Jayce shakes his head, yawning yet again.

"Actually, I was going to head home for the day. But, please," he looks at you with half lidded eyes, and your heart skips a beat, "can I see you tomorrow? I really am very sorry I stood you up. It's my day off, we can do whatever you'd like."

You shake your head.

"You didn't 'stand me up' if we didn't have plans in the first place Jayce. I already accepted your apology. Yes, of course, I would love to see you again. But...wait, if you're not going back to work, why did you want the espresso?" He chuckles dryly, clearly embarrassed.

"Call it supporting the local economy, I guess." His lips quirk upward into a half smile.

My goodness, what is this man doing to you? Your face burns again, and the way he's looking at you, though you know it's only exhaustion, elicits a certain heat to pool between your legs. Oh my god you are so embarrassing.

"Alright, then. Meet me at my loft tomorrow morning?"

He looks surprised, and you suddenly realize how that sounds.

“I-I just mean…we can go from there. I’ll make us a nice breakfast, and we can plan out our day together. I you want.” You grin sheepishly, hoping he doesn’t back out now.

He doesn't.

"That sounds excellent." He beams at you again, and stands up straight. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go home and take a fat nap." He turns to leave, waving goodbye. "See you in the morning." You watch him leave for a moment, trying to calm your nerves. You don't think it's normal to be this excited by someone you barely know.

—————-

Back in your apartment, you kick off your shoes and give your cat a good scratch under her chin. "Hallo my sweet giiirl" you say, as if speaking to a toddler. The loft is blissfully quiet, except the clock ticking on the wall. You revel in the silence for a moment- away from the constant noise of people chattering, machines whirring, beeping, sloshing liquid. This was your paradise.

You take a much needed hot shower, throw on comfy clothes, and brew yourself a hot cup of tea. Even with the warm air of the apartment, it feels comforting in your hands. You silently wish it was his warmth, before shaking your head to dispel the thoughts. You pad over to your easel by the bay window and settle in for a long night of painting.

You never considered yourself to be an artist. You weren't good at it. But oh, you loved it so much. Getting lost in the brushstrokes for hours was something you wished you could do full time, instead of working at the shop; but art school is expensive, and though Piltover high society had an appreciation for the arts, there wasn't much demand for your wares. Piltover was the city of progress; of science, math, medicine. They didn't leave room for much else. Nonetheless, you managed to sell your paintings every now and again, to regular cafe customers who had patience enough to chat with you.

Before long, you find your eyes getting heavy, and you stop to take a break; you lean back in your chair, taking a look at the bigger picture. This was something you'd been working on for weeks now, and you still weren't close to being done. The canvas was large enough that you had to stand on your tip-toes when working on the top parts. You rest your chin on your palm, resolving to just rest your eyes for a moment...and then you'll get back to work, you tell yourself.

Right before you doze off completely.

[thedeerman]

RadioApple fic:

Do You Want To Know?

Chapter 1

Ch2: Admire

Sitting through morning meetings and Charlie’s exercises is a necessary evil. Being there for any hotel related meetings was his job, and he took his job quite seriously. Much more seriously than originally planned, but all the best entertainment comes from hard work. Whether it be taking down overlords, forging eternity-long deals, or just simple sinner watching. Alastor loved people watching in life, and in death it’s no different. Only better. In life, people followed standard moral codes when they knew they were amongst other people. It was only after spending many hours, sometimes days, watching from the shadows that he would finally see one’s true, awful self emerge. In Hell, there are no social codes that must be followed while at the bottom of the ladder. Overlords and politics were a bit different, but even here in this welcoming environment that Charlie had designed, there’s plenty of sub-human filth to keep him occupied.

Until Charlie comes up with yet another odd distraction for them all to partake in. This one didn't seem terribly troubling. Alastor didn't mind writing, and being able to finish the exercise on his own without needing to sit in a room full of other sinners felt like a blessing. The whole thing seemed like it would come and go without much thought until he opened the paper he was given during the meeting. The paper that would tell him who he was to be writing to for the next week. His smile never wavered, but he felt his ear flick in irritation. Lucifer. Just my luck. Alastor glanced over to where the fallen angel was sitting on the other side of the meeting room, but the idiot looked lost in his own thoughts. As was typical.

It gets even worse when he sees what the writing prompt for the day is. There, at the top of the piece of paper that Charlie had handed him on his way out of the meeting, lies the instructions: “Name two things about your person that you admire and why.” It’s surrounded by little stars and smiley faces that make Alastor want to throw the thing away and forget he ever agreed to do it. Instead, he folds the paper neatly and places it in a pocket for later. He brews himself a cup of coffee, hoping that the caffeine will help dull his early morning irritation and sits in one of the seating areas of the hotel’s lobby to take a moment for himself. Almost immediately after, the devil himself comes walking out of the meeting room with a genuine smile on his face, the kind that only his daughter ever manages to put there. Alastor quickly looks away, but not before seeing Lucifer’s face fall into a frustrated, irritable look. The demon decides to keep his eyes off of the devil for now, ignoring him as he stormed past. He only snuck a glance when Lucifer’s back was turned, quickly heading out of the lobby and towards his tower on the far end of the hotel. How am I supposed to even tolerate anything about him, let alone admire him? As he drinks his coffee he wonders how many indirect insults he can put in each letter before being called out and put in mandatory group therapy. He hums an old tune while he ponders how to go about antagonizing the king without facing consequences. After some time, he drinks the rest of his coffee and decides it’s time to go off and tend to his duties for the day. He’ll think about this writing prompt nonsense later.

And he does think about it, but by the end of the day he’d spent so much time thinking about it that he hardly cared anymore. He had an entire week of this letter nonsense, he may as well play nice for the first letter or two, lest the king figure out who was writing to him too quickly. He wonders if there really is anything that he admired about the king. His power, perhaps. His ability to create such gaudy, showy nonsense with the flick of his wrist. Alastor didn't care for his lack of style, but the potential for that power was unmatched. Alright. That's one. What else could there be? He pulls the folded paper out of his pocket and sets it down on the desk in his room.

“Name two things about your person that you admire and why.”

The demon sighs. He pulls off his coat and sets it aside as he sits at the desk. Best not stick to my typical handwriting, thinks the demon. Lifting his pen, he adjusts his writing style as he starts to write.

One thing I admire about this person is his raw power. It has a lot of potential.

Alastor looks at the words on the page and finds that they’re true. True enough, objectively, that anyone could have said it. That’s the goal. Keeping the recipient guessing on who the sender was. That was Charlie’s strict rule, right? Alastor chuckled. He won’t have a clue. He continued to write.

Another thing I admire is

He paused. What else could be considered admirable by that nuisance of a king? He hasn’t backed down from any of Alastor’s antagonizing, despite it clearly being in his best interest. But what could be admirable about being bullheaded and quick to fight? Alastor takes a moment to think.

Another thing I admire is his determined unwillingness to back down from a challenge.

Alastor looked at the page in front of him. That seems sufficient, he thinks. Chances are, the king would assume that the writer is referring to his battle with Adam, which Alastor wasn’t around to witness. Satisfied with his work, he folds the letter and puts it in the envelope Charlie supplied. Hopefully tomorrow’s prompt will give him more to work with. This little game was beginning to seem like it might turn out to be a bit of fun after all.

Lucifer sat in his room, at his desk, for two hours trying to write the letter assigned to him. What the fuck could I possibly say about this guy that isn’t negative enough to put me in therapy jail? He stared at the paper, decorated with little drawings that were certainly Charlie’s personal touch, and reread the writing prompt again.

“Name two things about your person that you admire and why.”

One thing was going to be hard enough, but two?? Shit. Maybe he could just not do it. Yeah! Maybe he can beg Charlie for a pass on this one. But if he doesn’t participate, he’s definitely going to group therapy again. Even if it isn’t meant as a punishment, it’s not something he wants to have to participate in. Just two things. Damn it! He looks at the paper for what feels like the 10,000th time and finally picks up his pen.

Alastor,

He cringes at his immediate instinct to format the writing like a formal letter. Well, too late to back out of it now.

One thing I admire about you is

Lucifer pauses to think again, racking his brain for something nice to say about the radio demon. What’s something that he does well? the fallen angel wonders. He took out tons of overlords apparently, but that’s not really great... He then remembers how Alastor had not only used his power for destruction, but protection. He protected the hotel from loan sharks, from the exorcists, from...

He lifts his pen again.

One thing I admire about you is your willingness to use your power to protect this place, even if you don’t completely believe in it. Even facing a danger that could have killed you.

Lucifer looks at what he wrote and nods. He continued writing.

Another thing that I admire is your ability to get people to listen to you. No matter where you are, or who you’re speaking to, people always tend to listen.

Lucifer squints his eyes for a minute. Did I just write that? He shakes his head. Whatever. Technically it’s true. He then thinks about how he might be the only one in the hotel ‘family’ that wasn’t present for Alastor’s fight with Adam. Ha! He thinks to himself, No way he’s gonna think this is coming from me! Lucifer grins, satisfied that he’d finished his daughter’s project properly. He folds the paper and stuffs it into the provided envelope, finally done with it. Glancing at the time, he accepted that his day wasn’t going to go far. Still a few hours before ‘family’ dinner, he turned to his workbench. Rolling up his sleeves, he started sketching out some new ideas. Maybe if I make something nice for Charlie, I can get out of the next ‘activity’...

By dinner time, Charlie’s starting to feel exhausted. She was up late working on the new activity plans and was too excited to sleep in. The participants didn’t seem thrilled, but she was. She’d been working on this nonstop for a week, taking every spare moment to jot down notes or bounce ideas off of Vaggie. But now that it’s been put into motion, she has a TON to catch up on. Meetings to attend, people to get in contact with, but mostly just planning. Tons and tons of planning. Charlie couldn’t do everything, so she had a complex system of tasks and staff, when each thing had to get done and by who. It’s more of a volunteer thing, everyone was glad to pull their weight when they could. But keeping track of it all to keep everything running was quite a job.

After doing everything that needed to be done for the day, Charlie looks at her chart to see who’s responsible for dinner tonight. Looks like.... Cherri! She smiled brightly. Cherri was who she was going to be writing her letters to, so she hoped that she would have an opportunity to learn more about her. This was a convenient surprise, seeing as the names were each chosen randomly. Well... Most of them, Charlie thought. She may have felt a tiny twinge of guilt for the little lie, but hopefully, the outcome would be more than worth the trouble. Only time will tell! She thinks with a smile, ready for whatever happened next.

Chapter three below!

[americasass81]

Vibranium Knight

Warnings:- Mild Kidnapping, Use of Pet Names, Cockwarming, P in V Smut.  18+ only. Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting. Feedback is welcomed.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author’s Note 1:- @targaryenvampireslayer just a little something I wrote for you Suz to hopefully make your working day a little brighter.  Sorry it took so long but I hope it’s worth the wait being that this is my first time writing for this character I know you adore..

Author’s Note 2:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Synopsis:- Enjoying a beautiful Spring day was not supposed to introduce you to a whole new world of possibilities but that’s exactly what happens when your distracted state intersects with an Avenger on a totally personal mission.

Pairings:- dark-ish!Sam Wilson x Female Reader.

Word Total:- 4,836

The office was quiet as you sat down at your desk and turned on the monitor, but the silence didn't really help.  The truth was nothing did.  ‘Why did it have to be this way?’ you thought as you now stood back up and headed for the nearest coffee machine while your computer flickered to life and the pinging of the elevator told you that soon your colleagues would be filing out of it to join you in another monotonous day of being totally undervalued while you scrimped and saved to hopefully retire before the humdrum working existence stole all semblance of joy from your life.

Sitting back down now and stealing a quick, generous amount of the caffeine infused beverage designed to see you through the day, you nodded kindly at your colleagues and exchanged pleasantries about your weekend activities before throwing yourself headlong into your work and counting down the seconds until lunch brought a much needed and welcome relief.  Or at least that's what it usually did.

Powering down your computer at the 1 o'clock mark and picking up your jacket while rising from your chair, a brisk walk to the elevator past the fire alarm that you'd dreamed so often of pulling just to add some excitement to the boring office routine, a smooth, uninterrupted trip down to the ground floor and your were free.  At least temporarily anyway.

Stepping outside the door then and taking in a few delightful breaths of the sweet spring air, you contemplated getting in your car, letting the top down and just spending your hour's break cruising around the city.  After all, it wasn't very often you got weather like this that let you feel the wind in your face or the sun shining down on you in a manner that wouldn't leave you burning up from the inside out afterwards.  No, this was exactly the type of weather you relished.

Not too hot, not too cold, you took one last delightful lungful and agreed instead that this was far too glorious a day to waste even a second of it sitting around in smog-fueled traffic.  Walking instead now to your favorite restaurant and collecting your usual order to go, you next headed to the local park and finding one of the easily accessible benches beside the river, sat down and tucked into the mouthwatering ramen noodle dish that only David managed to prepare just the way you liked it.

Although to be fair you thought as you took that first delicious bite and savored every single flavor that assaulted your taste buds, the other staff members never really screwed up this dish and it was the main reason you loved their food so much, but there was just something extra that seemed to make it taste a whole lot nicer when David made it.  Maybe he added something the others didn't.  Maybe it was his infectious smile and sunny disposition.  And then just maybe, it was the fact that he always had it hot and prepared for you the second you walked in as if he somehow accepted how excruciatingly tedious and demanding your work environment was and how precious this lunchtime break was for you.

A good deed in a weary world.  And yet something so small that made a world of difference to you.

Finishing up your meal now and dumping the rubbish in the nearest bin provided, you then decided that a bit of exploration was due you before you headed back to the grind of daily life necessary to pay your bills and afford you some small pleasure away from the hustle and bustle of trying to get a leg up in the corporate world.  And perhaps it was this very ruminating that found you off the beaten track in an area of the park you had never ventured before as a cloth came up to cover your mouth while the world went black all around you.

Coming back to the waking world some time later with absolutely no idea of what had happened in between or how much time had passed exactly, two things at least were perfectly clear .... and only one of them brought you any semblance of relief.  Looking around the room now while simultaneously focusing your gaze on the outside world that greeted you through a nearby window, you knew beyond all doubt now that this was not your apartment while the vegetation blooming back at you confirmed this too was no longer the city you knew and worked in.  As for the second thing?  Well, the pounding in your head told you you were well and truly alive, but whether or not that was a good thing or a bad thing remained to be seen.

Rising slowly from the bed now and thankful from your head to your toes that every stitch of clothing you had last put on was at least in place, you still needed to know exactly what was going on.  Walking then from the side of the huge bed over to the double doors that clearly opened on the outside world, you placed your palms on the handles and sent up a silent plea before quietly as possible pushing down and releasing a breath as the latches gave way and an exit appeared.  Giving one last look behind you then to make sure you hadn't alerted whomever it was that brought you here against your will, you next stepped forwards into the unknown and faced what lay ahead.  And what an experience that was.

Gazing around you now at wide open fields in every direction set against the backdrop of a picturesque mountain and river, it would have taken your breath away if not for the truth of what it revealed .... you were totally and utterly cut off from civilized society.  Taking an extra few moments still to just stand there and soak in the peace and tranquility so evident in every rock and blade of grass before you, you then pulled yourself away from the quiet and headed back towards the house.  It was time to figure out where you went from here.

Turning around then and walking back through the double doors that just moments ago had offered you freedom and then stolen it away just as easily, you stopped up short however when a man appeared through another door in the bedroom covered in only a towel as water droplets running down his exposed upper half told you he had just returned from a shower.  Which actually explained why your absence had gone unnoticed .... at least until now.

"Well hello there chicklet, am I to assume by your return that you're not yet ready to try and make a run for it?" he asked while you simply stared blankly back at him as a thousand questions exploded in your mind like fireworks on the 4th of July.  Yet nothing came out.  So it seemed he would have to try again.  "You don't remember me, do you chicklet?" he now asked as he walked fully into the room, closed the doors you had neglected in your shock and then sat down on the seat situated at the foot of the bed to await your response.  A response that came rather quickly this time.

"Remember you?  When the hell did I ever meet you?" you asked, but any answer from him was unnecessary as flashes of memory answered your own question for you.  For you see you had met him.

Oh sure it was now a lifetime ago and he went by The Falcon back then, but there was no mistaking that beautiful smile, those soft eyes or the fact that you haven't lived your life under a rock.  No, the whole world knew of Sam Wilson.  Formerly known as the heroic Falcon, now carrying the mantle of Captain America, the whole world had witnessed his strength and character when The Flagsmashers had sought to create even more chaos out of the tragedy that was the Blip and the resulting return of all those people that had been snapped away.  You on the other hand knew him personally.  Kind of.

Sitting by the catwalk many years back at a New York Fashion Week event your friend Alice had somehow managed to get both of you tickets for, your memory of lying beneath the strapping superhero when guns began blasting and bullets started flying might have remained more prominent in your mind if it wasn't for well .... said gunfight.  As it was, you remembered being tackled to the ground, moved this way and that to a safe place before the winged superhero told you to stay put upon rising from your position and heading off to help The Black Widow deal with whatever skirmish was wreaking havoc on the spectacular event.

No, that was definitely an encounter you were only too happy to forget.  Even if it did include a run-in with an actual Avenger.  But wait, if Sam Wilson was still an Avenger and he was now currently occupying a house in the middle of absolutely nowhere with you, then what exactly did that mean for your current location?  After all, you had woken up that morning in England just like you did every other morning and Sam Wilson, as far as you could recall, was everything good that the United States of America had to offer.  But they were oceans apart.  Literally.  So where the hell were you now?

In the time you had lost had you somehow been transported across the Atlantic to the good old U. S. of A.?   Or was Captain America himself currently shacked up in the most idyllic of settings deep in the heart of the English countryside?  Looking out the double doors once more and realizing now that you could in no way place this location in either country, you were about to give up and ask him where both of you were when a glance through the door he had just entered brought a whole new set of questions and distractions flooding through your mind.

Walking into that room while completely ignoring the half naked Adonis and staring in awe now at the rows of fabric that had caught your attention, one half of what appeared to be a gigantic closet filled with fabulous dresses, comfy casual wear and shoes that would have made Miranda Priestly swoon told you that you were in far more serious trouble than you had previously imagined.  For this situation was not something that had just sprung up overnight.  No, every little detail here had been meticulously planned.  So turning back to the bedroom now and facing the man you suspected to be your abductor, you took a deep breath before asking that very same man what the fuck was going on.

"Aw come on now chicklet, isn't it obvious?" he asked with a smirk before continuing as you sat down on the chair nestled in the corner of the room.  "I built this place for you.  For us.  This beautiful, isolated spot where you can live a life of pampered luxury without that tedious job sapping your joy and killing your creativity.  I've read some of your work, you know.  Who says fantasies don't come true?"

Staring at him blankly now as your mind began spinning with what he had just told you, your anxiety spiked to the point where if you weren't sitting down you would most possibly pass out yet again.  As it was, you now had no alternative but to tell your brain to shut up and think.  For what he was saying couldn't possibly be real.  Right?

Oh sure, you were far from stupid or naïve.  Anyone these days could find anything on the internet with enough savvy if they looked hard enough and of course you were well aware that one or two celebrities at least poked their virtual heads on Tumblr from time to time.  BUT THIS?  Had Sam Wilson really found your blog and read your fics?  Had he truly discovered your secret desire to feel his powerful, naked body pressed against yours after he rescued you from a job that treated you no better than a mechanical robot tapping away at a keyboard and answering questions for people who couldn't even be bothered to thank you afterwards?  Worse yet, how had he managed to put all the pieces together and actually track you down?

No, this couldn't seriously be what was happening here.

Looking up at him now however and seeing the truth etched quite plainly on his handsome face, you quickly got up from your chair and began frantically pacing back and forth before him as your anxiety spiked once more to levels you barely remembered previously experiencing.  "No, no, no.  This can't be happening.  This can't be happening. This.  Can't.  Be.  Happening," you now repeated like a manta in the hopes that saying it enough times, with enough conviction, might make it so.  But that didn't happen as was evidenced when the man whose presence you now tried desperately to ignore reached out, pulled you onto his lap and stopped your ranting the only way he knew was guaranteed to shock you out of your current state.

He kissed you.  And what a kiss it was.

Slow and deep.  Soft and with nothing but luscious lips well versed in the art of seduction, the humming that left your throat as his lips first massaged your top one and then your bottom before alternating back and forth would have been a sound he could happily listen to all day if he didn't have other plans.  For he wanted to hear you scream.  Continuing to gently devour your lips without seeking entry, his hands now moved to cup your ass and massage here too as your brain began the process of slowing down the panic currently controlling your system.  After all he did want you to agree to this and for that he needed you to be calm and thinking clearly.  Well as clearly as his kisses would allow anyway.

Switching from a humming to a purring now as his ministrations continued to calm you while a warm feeling slowly made itself known between your thighs, you were finally relaxed enough to ask Sam what the plan was next, but it seemed he asked that question for you first.  "So chicklet, can I interest you in a life of pleasure and debauchery after all?" he asked as his lips finally left yours and he pulled back from your face just long enough for you to look into his eyes as he continued, "What do you say?  You willing to live here and let your creativity flourish while I spend my days saving the world and my nights ravishing every inch of this .... divine specimen," he finished as his palms squeezed your ass cheeks while his eyes roamed over your clothed form as if it was the most glorious sight he had ever seen.

And maybe it was, but you rarely thought so.

Looking back at him now in return as if he had completely lost his mind and wanting to tell him so, you opened your mouth to turn down his proposal but his lips now buried against your neck brought a whole different response.  One you never consciously planned on making.  "Yes.  Yes.  Oh my god, yes," you moaned out continuously as Sam now nibbled on your neck and shoulders before soothing the harsher nips with his tongue while his hands still caressed your ass and made you wonder if you could actually orgasm from this situation alone.  Which was actually a frightening concept when you thought about it.

Coming to your senses long enough now as a result of this stray thought however, you pushed back slightly from the man beneath you to fully take in the position you were in.  Sitting atop the thighs of Captain America, who was currently wearing nothing but a towel as he set the embers burning in your loins, you wanted to tell him to slow things down but he wasn't having any of it.  You had accepted his offer and he now intended to show you exactly what that meant.  "May I chicklet?" he asked and before your mouth could raise any objections, your head gave an imperceptible nod and that was all the consent he needed.

Returning to kiss your lips now as his tongue this time sought to invade your mouth and distract you from what his hands were doing, you might have been shocked by the strength he displayed in standing up with you in his arms and letting the towel fall from his waist if he wasn't so good with his damn mouth.  As it was, he was very good.  Kissing you endlessly, while twisting his tongue with yours as well as biting it gently every few swirls, you only now noticed the changes taking place when his face disappeared from before you, your back now rested against his chest and the closet door appeared in your vision once more.  He had completely turned you around without ever letting you go.

But that wasn't even the most remarkable feat.

Sitting on his lap still as his lips now returned to tasting any bit of skin they came in contact with, your brain tried to figure out not how he had done what he'd done, but how your jeans and panties now lay lodged around your ankles as his hands began to make themselves acquainted with your most private region.  Roaming along your thighs, squeezing here and there as well as opening you up as wide as was possible atop his powerful legs, the warmth now spreading outwards from your core just ached for him to quench it but he just wanted to have some fun.  And all at your expense it seemed.

Running his fingers back and forth along your slit now as his other hand slid up your top to rest against your stomach, you whined and pleaded for him to make you come but that it seemed was not yet in his immediate plans.  Circling your clit extremely slowly instead to the point where your hips began to move against him, he stopped and slapped your pussy once before chuckling into your neck at the yelp that left your tender lips.  "Patience chicklet, we're a long ways off from making you squirt all over my sheets but .... maybe I can give you something to take the edge off," he offered and with that he once again defied the laws of man by somehow using a foot to finish removing your lower garments before lifting you up and slotting his shaft into your warm, wet and waiting pussy.

And what a feeling it was .... for both of you.  Long and hard and thick enough to split your lower regions apart, you were by no means an innocent virgin, but you suddenly doubted you would ever be satisfied with any rod other than the one currently making its presence known to your fluttering walls.  Not that Sam had any intention of allowing another man or his equipment anywhere near you.

Making you comfortable then as your perfect flower held him snugly in place and his weeping tip just kissed your cervix, his hands now removing your top clothes while his lips by your ear whispered not to move told you his plan was a simple one .... to pleasure you with everything he had except what you really, really wanted.  In other words, he planned to torture you.

Verbally railing against him now as his hands began massaging your breasts while his lips now became acquainted with every bump and dip along your spine, your hands moving down to tend to the ache between your legs brought a murderous slew of profanities streaming from your mouth as his teeth made themselves known to the soft juncture of your neck and your shoulder.

"Chicklet no," he reprimanded now as he pulled his teeth back and he ran his lips over the spot that was sure to sport a lovely mark come morning, "you'll get your release when I give it to you and not a second sooner," he continued as his hands now moved further upwards to allow his fingers dance against your shoulder blades.  Pressing here and kissing there now as you held onto his thighs to keep from toppling forwards, the moans you soon started releasing as his skillful talents worked out knots you never knew existed were matched only by the devious chuckles coming from the man behind you when the odd thrust upwards added a growl from you every now and then.

The bastard wasn't playing fair.

Continuing to run his fingers over every inch of your glorious body as his hands moved down to finally rest atop yours, you hoped now you might finally get some release, but Sam it seemed still wasn't cooperating.  Taking your left hand in his now and linking your fingers together, he next took your hand and moved it to his sac before speaking.  "You feel that chicklet?  What you do to me?  You have no idea the number of nights I've gotten myself off to your writing wishing we could make it real.  Who knows, now that I have you we might even give your back door the attention it so desperately craves," he added and realizing what he was now referencing, your body produced a burst of strength you never knew you possessed and hurled you back across the room as horror dawned on your face while surprise clearly settled on Sam's.

"Please tell me you've taken one too many blows to the head and taken leave of your senses?" you now asked as you reached for the throw resting on the chair and wrapping it around you while waiting for the superhero to prove your suspicions wrong.  For he couldn't possibly be suggesting that.

Unfortunately for you however that's exactly where his mind was headed.  Reiterating once more that he wanted to experience everything with you, both sexual and otherwise, he now joined you on the floor before promising that any and all adventures would only take place when you were ready and with your complete and unwavering consent.

Content at least with the sincerity you found in his eyes and voice, you agreed in principle to give him a chance as he then stood up, offered his hand and pulled you gently from the floor when you easily obliged.  Walking you to the bed then before tipping up back onto it, a few kisses later and his shaft was buried deep inside your pussy as his eyes stared into yours and fingers once more laced with your own just inches from the headboard.

Pulling out slowly then before plunging back in at the same leisurely pace so your quivering walls felt every ridge, vein and twitch his impressive phallus possessed, it was nothing compared to the magic his lips were working.  Feasting on your breasts with just enough pressure to dull the lines between pleasure and pain, his tongue soothing the skin felt like utter bliss.  As were his words.

Dripping with honey and whispered out between bites and moans, the professions of love, praise and plans for your future together did far more in this moment to turn you on really than anything his physical form was capable of.  It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before.  Continuing to gaze into his eyes now as you felt your body moving ever closer to that elusive release you thought would never come, Sam stalled his hips just long enough to whisper those three little words that sent a flutter straight to your heart as your walls contracted and tried to pull him deeper.

"I offer freedom," and with that he kissed you deeper than he had before, brought your interlocked hands closer together and pounded into you with such abandon now that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.  And yet you still didn't feel pain.  There was nothing but love and pleasure and as both of you finally reached the precipice and leapt forwards together there was a strange sense of completeness.  Of being whole.

Continuing then to kiss you through your orgasms as wave after wave of warm cum flooded your insides and reached the sheets as Sam had earlier promised, your eyes closing on this liberating experience shut out any words he murmured as sleep dragged you into its welcoming embrace.

Opening your eyes on the world again and almost crying out from the loss of the dream that was both bizarrely weird yet oddly satisfying, you snuggled deeper into the soft sheets to hold onto the memory a little while longer.  For you didn't want it to disappear.  Someone had wanted to worship you.  To love you, provide for you and show you that their world began and ended with you.  But of course that only proved it had to vanish.  Work wouldn't wait, wouldn't give you what you most craved.

Groaning in frustration now as you resigned yourself to heading back to the daily grind, a hand appearing from behind you and resting across your stomach brought your focus squarely and securely on the other half of the bed however.  For it seemed you weren't alone.  Frantically wondering what to do now in regards to fight, flight or simply screaming your lungs out like the damsel did in every single horror movie you had ever watched, turning slowly now to assess the situation brought a whole new shocking and wondrous revelation to your unbelieving eyes.  The dream it seemed was real.

Laying beside you now, his hand still resting where it had just landed, his naked form clothed in fabric and sleep, Sam Wilson looked a vision if such a thing could be said about a man.  But what then did this mean for you?  Was the dream actually real and not a dream at all?  Had this real life, honest to goodness superhero been serious when he offered to pamper and pleasure you every second his presence wasn't required to save the world?  Did this really mean you never had to work in that deplorable, dead end job again where you were less valued than the office chair you sat on?

Contemplating all these questions now while reaching out to touch the man beside you simply to further confirm his existence was real, you were just about to place your palm gently upon his cheek when you thought better of it.  This was nuts.  Total, complete and utter bonkers.  Your life wasn't meant to be this easy and carefree.  Writing stories and having your every sexual desire catered to by your very own superhero.  Never again having to worry about bills, unappreciative bosses or rude customers whom it seemed had never been taught terms like kindness or common decency.

No, things like this never happened to you and so as you resigned yourself to the fact that all of this was simply wishful thinking, you turned away from the god before you and prepared to exit the bed and return to the reality that was your life.  But it seemed this trip was only ever meant to be one way.

Joining you now away from the peaceful embrace of slumber that previously held all of his attention, Sam opened his eyes, reached out his other hand and pulled you tighter towards him.  "Now, now chicklet, I hope you don't plan on sneaking out of our bed to run off somewhere at this god awful early hour.  It's too warm and cozy here for me to have to chase you down and fuck you where I catch you," he murmured between still sleepy breaths.

Gulping down your shock now as images of his glorious erection splitting you apart the previous night sprang forth before your eyes, his knowing smirk told you he had you right where he wanted you.  You weren't yet ready for another round.  Still unsure of where he got his stamina from and how you were meant to keep up, the throbbing still present in your pussy and his intense gaze raking over your equally naked form quickly and easily made up your mind.

Now was the time to be his good girl.

Finally admitting defeat and turning back onto your side, you silently allowed Sam Wilson to spoon your bodies together and pull the covers back over both of you before closing your eyes and drifting back to sleep with the promise that when you woke again you would try employing reason and common sense to regain control over your future.  Even if the grip around your midsection solidly confirmed your plan was doomed to failure and the future he promised was now yours for the taking.

[supervillain-smut]

Albert Wesker with a doting and loving S/O who has a strong habit of over working themselves?

Idk it's just been on my mind recently lmao

{Fluff- Fem or GN Reader?}

I hope you enjoy it! I certainly enjoyed writing it!

"Hey Albert, would you like a coffee? Maybe a relaxing tea? I can call Dr. Birkin for you if you need that data he has at the lab?"

"Y/N..."

"Or what about your suit, does it need ironing?"

"Y/N."

"Oh no wait, you already have a coffee, did you have breakfast before you came here?"

"Y/N!" "Yes, Albert?" "I don't need anything, thank you, except you finally getting off your feet, possibly getting some sleep. That would make me happy." Albert spoke in a flat tone.

"Well, I'm glad you care about me so much, but I'd rather you didn't have to distract yourself from your work, and I know you like it, too." You hopped up on the counter facing him. He had just emerged from the basement where you weren't allowed to be since all his classified work was being done there, so when he did emerge, usually it was from a lack of everything. Food, water, caffeine, and the most difficult to get him to replenish, is sleep.

That being said, when you had him, you spoiled him and doted on him endlessly, which he loved most of the time, but recently you'd been picking up his bad habit of not sleeping to do so, and he was beginning to worry.

He smirked and stood in front of you, between your legs dangling off the counter, and faked a yawn. You followed seconds later with a real one of your own. "As I thought." You pouted at his trick. "Now, go to bed, please. It does me no good if we're both sleep-deprived." He began to walk back to the basement door, and you had to think quickly about how to drag him down with you.

"Only if you do, too." Albert stopped dead in his tracks. "What?" You crossed your arms and smirked. "I'll only go to bed if you do, too. As you said, it does no one any good if we're sleep-deprived. That includes you." You couldn't see his eyes past his sunglasses, but the internal struggle was obvious as his weight shifted towards the basement, back to you, back and forth before he sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose and dumping the contents of his mug down the sink.

He stood in front of you for a moment that felt like hours, making you a little nervous; was he upset with you? The answer was obviously 'no', but sometimes you couldn't tell. At least until he scooped you off of the counter, leaving you to cling to him like a koala as he marched both of you upstairs. Your hand toyed with the hair at the base of his neck as you rested your head on his shoulder, beaming with victory as your body registered the path to the bedroom.

You felt the softness of your pillows and blankets as he set you down, sitting at the edge of the bed to remove his shoes and blazer, setting his sunglasses down on the nightstand as he settled in beside you, those icy blue eyes staring back at you fondly before he pulled you towards him so he could spoon you. You shifted so your back was flush against his chest and sighed in contentment as he kissed your shoulder before settling in for your nap.

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

My favorite part of Year in Review: the self-chosen 'top written scenes'! I hope these were favorites for you guys too.

Top 5 Writings of 2024

5. Give Floating a Try

“Give me your hands.” Thorin stated, removing his finger to offer up both of his hands, palm up. Bilbo had little time to mourn the loss of Thorin’s finger as he placed his hands on top of Thorin’s. His throat went dry as the differences between their hands became overly apparent. Thorin’s were rougher to the touch and nearly swallowed his own in size, but his hold was gentle. Secure. Warm. Bilbo gave the hands as best a squeeze as he could, and Thorin squeezed them in return. He was so mesmerized by the difference between their hands, he hadn’t even realized Thorin had been leading him into the water until he felt it brush against his waist.  He cried out, throwing himself onto Thorin and wrapping his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist. Thorin was so surprised, he tipped backwards, going under for a quick second and nearly bringing Bilbo down with him. He quickly came back up, sputtering and trying to clear the water from his face around Bilbo hugging him tightly and all but sobbing on him. “Bilbo! You can still touch!” Thorin growled, trying to create some distance. Bilbo held on like a leech. His face pressed tightly against Thorin’s shoulder and his arms and legs shaking from how hard he clutched him. Thorin sighed as he wrapped his arms around Bilbo, slowly rubbing his back, and murmuring comforting words in his ear.

4. Beneath the Oak Tree

They were married in the spring when the best wedding flowers were in bloom, right beneath that old oak tree that was theirs. Their friends and family both in the Shire and in Ered Luin gathered as they watched them recite their vows and seal their love with a kiss. As was hobbit tradition, they picked out their seed to plant in the garden of their home together. For many years, it was customary to see the King and Consort of Ered Luin taking a stroll to the edge of the settlement where a handsome oak was in the process of growing. Made from love and magic acorns.

3. Bruise and Batter My Heart

“You need not do this if you don’t want to.” He urged quietly, his voice flat and eyes downturned. Thorin slowly grabbed Bilbo’s chin, tilting it back up to him. “The only reason I would not court you this way is because Bilbo Baggins doesn’t have anything to prove to me or my people.”

2. A Story of Home

Thorin, thankful for the distraction, made his way to the coffee pot. He took that first necessary sip of hot, bitter pure caffeine before looking over at Dis drawing smiley faces on the boys’ pancakes with whip cream and fruit. Fili wanted blueberries and Kili wanted strawberries. It was a scene that Thorin had watched hundreds of times and never really got tired of it. Yet today there was a twinge of melancholy as he observed his family and thought about what was missing. “Alright, so tell me. How’s Bilbo doing?” Thorin took another sip of his coffee to hold off answering Dis for even just a small moment.  “Oh come on!” Dis complained as she handed him a plate of pancakes. “I heard you guys talking practically all night long.” “Where’s my smiley face?” He teased instead of giving in. Dis took the whip cream can and sprayed a curved line directly on his face. He spluttered before grabbing a towel to wipe it away.  “Cute.” He growled. She chuckled, handing him the can. He pretended like he was going to spray it right on top of her head, getting her to flinch away with a warning ‘Thorin’ before he squirted a generous amount on his pancakes, a big smirk on his face. She went back to fussing over the boys as well as making her own plate so Thorin had honestly forgotten she had asked him a question until she was poking him about it. Literally, with her syrup covered fork.   “What is your problem?” He complained. “I was asking you about Bilbo.” She sighed, exasperated as if he were the one being particularly childish this morning.

The Twelve Transformations of Bilbo Baggins

It was so hard though. Especially with Thorin’s piercing blue eyes boring into him, demanding from Bilbo. Demanding his attention. Demanding his understanding. Demanding a promise to never act so rashly again. And damn him that it was on the tip of Bilbo’s tongue to grant it all to him. To give himself over to the worry and misplaced protection and cuddle himself up in Thorin’s arms to never emerge. Yet, Bilbo’s pride was a curious thing. Nowhere on par with what he has seen from this Son of Durin, but enough for him to push back. To be argumentative for the sake of argumentative. And Bilbo has never hated a trait about himself more. “Yet, in a few short days, you send me to the den of a dragon.” He hissed, very careful to keep their words between them. “You don’t get to demand my life and offer my sacrifice in the same breath.” Thorin went decidedly pale, and Bilbo had to wonder if he was not the only one to forget how this quest ended. To be distracted by all the dangers they had faced and know that the true Chiefest of Calamities remained before them. Perhaps it was for the best that Balin interrupted them when he did. He couldn’t be sure that either of them would have anything productive to add to the conversation after that.

Guys, I was so insanely proud of my #1 scene. It was no contest on choosing it for first. But here are some honorable mentions that got bumped out of the other top spots.

Hugs & Kisses Event- Holding Hands

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Thorin defended. “Right.” Dwalin snorted. “Look, I’ve saved your life plenty of times and I’ve never been hugged like that afterwards.” “Aw, do you need a hug, Dwalin?” Thorin teased.

Hugs & Kisses Event- Sweet Words Bifur x Oin

I dreamt I was lost to you, my love.  Oin’s hands were shaking as he made the final signs. He looked into Bifur’s eyes as he shook his head before signing once more. Not lost, just misplaced. Bifur smiled before sinking back into sleep. Oin just stood there, tears streaking down his face, relief bursting free. He knew the road ahead would be bumpy for them, but at least it was there for them to traverse together.

Trick or Treat Event- Homesick/Stormy Night

Bilbo opened his mouth, swallowed, and tried again. But he couldn’t think of anything to say. His mind as turbulent as the skies outside. Thorin seemed to sense this, and didn’t press any further than that. He merely left a kiss on Bilbo's forehead before getting up and walking back upstairs. An innocent gesture, but one that felt like a brand upon his skin. It wasn’t obligatory and Bilbo didn’t miss the Shire greatly. The start of something wonderful sat before Bilbo, and he was terrified he wasn’t brave enough to seize it.

[misc-obeyme]

I just started writing, is it normal to feel physically painful.? Every time I write a sentence I want to throw up and delete the whole thing. Will this go away? Any tips?

Oh anon, please know that I am hugging you mentally (unless you don’t like hugs then I am comforting you in a way that actually helps).

This happens when you’re thinking too much. It’s a little different for every writer, of course. But for me, I have to get into the flow state as it’s called or it might just be adhd hyperfixation. But essentially, you become so focused on putting the words together that you don’t have the space for anything else.

Almost every time, I get to a point where I want to stop writing because I believe everything I just wrote is shit. I want to delete it all and start over. Do not do it. This is your inner critic and it is a liar.

It’s kind of the eternal writer struggle to find a way to shut off that critical part of yourself so that your creative self can do its thing. The best way is to try as many different things as possible until you find one that works for you. Then if it stops working, don’t be afraid to try something else or switch it up. There are no rules so don’t feel like you have to do things a certain way.

Here are some things that help me:

Walk away. If you’ve been writing for a while and suddenly everything you just wrote feels shitty, stop writing and go do something else. You can wait a whole day if you want, but even just twenty minutes or so usually helps me. Try different amounts of time and doing different things. Don’t be afraid to stop in the middle of a sentence. Then see how you feel when you come back.

Music. I always listen to music. Something soothing is just enough to keep that inner anxiety calm and to distract the parts of my brain that aren’t focused on the writing.

Snacks or drinks. I like caffeine but that’s something you may have to change depending on when you’re writing & other such factors. But having a little snack or a drink on your desk or next to you can help. You can take a shorter break, read over the last sentence, and take a little bite of something.

Redirection. Sometimes the best thing you can do is remind yourself that just because you feel something doesn’t mean it’s true. So often I want to scrap things because they feel bad to me. But most of the time, it’s all in my head. This means it can be very difficult for us to judge how bad or good our writing actually is. Because we’re too close to it. So in the moment, it can help to pay attention to that thought or feeling and then redirect it. Like if I feel my writing is bad and I say wow this is horrible, I will immediately say okay no it probably isn’t horrible I know that’s just in my head.

Learning. Last on the list is to learn more about writing and remember that in order to be good at something you have to practice. It’s okay to write bad stuff. I’ve got piles of terrible stuff. If you’re not sure how to do something, just try it. Try anything and everything and scrap whatever doesn’t work for you. Sometimes it’s just a matter of finding the best way of doing it for you personally.

It will lessen with time. I think the more you write, the easier it gets. It can be hard especially since writing is often a solo activity & you’re just in your own head the whole time. If you have someone you love & trust that you can share your work with who will encourage you, sometimes that can help. Especially if it’s someone who doesn’t know anything about writing. Just someone to cheer you on.

I hope some of this helps! Know that you are not alone, that it will get better, and that I believe in you! You’ve got this. 💕

[koenki]

Round 3 Writings

After the complications of the last experiment, Cyril- took accountability. While he hasn't had it in him yet to see Roman himself after taking him to the medical wing, he did let Pip know that he was injured and where to find him. More worried than angry over what little the elf could reveal to them, Pip made sure to be at Roman's side. A bit of role reversal happens where Roman was asleep in the medical wing when they arrived, maybe passed out? It sounded serious, and from the extent of injuries, Pip could only imagine what happened. Sitting by his side until he woke up, they greeted him gently. They are aware from previous talks with Cyril and Roman they can't REALLY tell them what happened- seems to be a common thing here but they made sure the time jumper knew they were there to support him, much like he was for them, promising to offer entertainment if they could. I have varying ideas of how something like this could go. Roman enjoys Pip's company but putting on the fake smile and saying he is all right is harder as time goes on, slowly pulling away from them as they fall deeper into their own thoughts and worries. Or he does that to start, knowing the danger he could be in and potentially put them in, and in efforts of protecting them, tries to shut them out- but as stated many times before, Pip is quite persuasive, slowly making progress with Roman to stay close, showing him they aren't going to just leave him cause things get difficult- they're friends, right? Roman has been there during some of the most insane and scary moments in their life at this point, and they wish to offer the same level of care in return. Taking the hand of his good arm, they offer reassurance and stability.

Ever since the incident in the library, anytime Cyril and his academic rival would be there together they insisted on it- so long as the workload wasn't too heavy or serious of course. If it was possible to spare a hand, they would take his and happily continue writing whatever notes they needed for their next research topic. It was a welcome distraction for the elf but led to other thoughts and problems in his head he was too scared to voice. Whenever he seemed stuck in those thoughts though, they would squeeze his hand, pulling him out of it to glance over at the human who was still reading whatever book they were on in their elemental research. He didn't know just how much the other really knew about what was going on inside or if he was giving signs of distress, but Cyril appreciated the gesture and would give a small one in return before looking back to his own papers. When they were here together like this, it could put him at ease, just enjoying the quiet turning of pages or the scratching of pen on paper. When they aren't being shameless at the library, they walk closer together when around the institute or out to the café to get a caffeine fix or food that doesn't come in a wrapper. Going to Ellis' shop to be away from their peers prying eyes (and Cyril's sanity) just to talk freely without the weight of projects or other people on them. That isn't to say it was peaceful when he met up with his Papa for tea or lunch lately though, teasing him about making things official and having them come by to have dinner together sometime for all four of them. He's seen them around each other more and more lately and was relentless now in wanting to make sure his son lives a full and happy life. Red faced and frustrated with the topic still being brought up he thanked Reuban for the tea before leaving, grumbling to himself about how both of them are going to be his demise one day.

[bunbeeplays]

They stayed up too late to go back to their homes, so they napped on couches at the venue and freshened up in the bathroom. Drew and Moses get ready for the day. Xander practices his mixing skills to calm his nerves from the confrontation. Ophelia just tries to keep it together.

Drew: Hilary instructed the guards to bring Tiff to her if she tries to enter the premises. I'm sticking nearby Hilary until it's showtime so I can rip Tiff a new one.

Ophelia: Sure.

Drew: You okay?

Ophelia: Just tired.

Drew: I think we all are. Let's go make some coffee.

Before they can caffeinate, they see Tiff arrive with a security guard.

Tiff: Wow, being escorted by security? I feel like a celebrity!

Drew: You’re about to feel like a stain on the ground!

Moses: Drew, don’t, you’ll get blood on your suit and that’s so hard to get out.

Tiff: What’s with the aggression?

Drew: Did you think we wouldn’t catch wind of that article Ty wrote?

Moses: Calling it an article is giving it a little too much credit.

Ophelia: How could you tell him to write all that stuff?

Tiff: I would never tell Ty to do anything like that!

Ophelia: So Ty just coincidentally knew Penny and Miko argued about the guest list? Something that only six people heard?

Tiff: He could have heard it from any one of us!

Ophelia: Yeah, you! His big mouth wife!

Tiff: gasp Well I never!

Drew: Oh don’t act so offended! You and Hector came out of that hit piece looking pretty clean. You had nothing to do with that? Does Ty know you’re Hector’s little pet?

Tiff: I’m not going to stand here and be attacked like this!

Ophelia: Oh so you can dish it out but you can’t take it? Well bite into this. You’re a mean, miserable, spiteful old hag and no slam piece from your worthless husband is ever going to change that!

Tiff: OLD HAG?!

Tiff: You trashy little skank! Ty reports on the news, and the news is that Penny Pizzazz is a tacky bimbo that chose a venue with worthless, good for nothing staff that is being run into the ground by Hector Laurent’s tasteless bitch of a wife!

Hilary: I guess that’s my cue.

Hilary: Declan, escort Mrs. Harper to my office, please.

Tiff: What’s the meaning of this? Where’s Hector?

Hilary: He’s taking care of the client whose reputation you and your husband tried to destroy. My office, now.

They go to tell Xander the good news, but he has some bad news to give them back.

Xander: No one can find Miko. Hector's keeping Penny distracted but she's getting suspicious. Won't be long before she finds out something's up.

Moses: We need double overtime at this point, mate.

Miko would never leave Penny! There's no way…

Ophelia thinks she might know where she is. She's going to check. Plus, it'd be a good excuse to not be in the same room as Xander right now.

The garden behind La Coppia Serena is really peaceful, unlike the rest of the place right now.

Ophelia: Hey. I thought I’d find you here. Are you okay? Everyone was worried when they couldn’t find you.

Miko: I don’t think I can do this, Ophelia.

Ophelia: What? You don’t want to marry Penny?

Miko: Of course I do. She’s the love of my life. But maybe she does deserve better. She could be with an actress, a model!

Ophelia: That’s not true, Miko! There’s no modeling career in the game!

Ophelia: You can’t let what that gossip rag says get to you. Tiff’s husband wrote it, anyone who would marry her has to be nuts.

Miko: He’s right, though! I am too mousy and boring for Penny! I’m just some lame social justice worker. She makes in an hour what I make in a week!

Penny: Why aren't you telling me what’s going on? Something’s wrong. Miko thinks being five minutes early is going behind schedule!

Hector: Now Miss Pizzazz, this is your big day, we just don’t want-

Penny: Woohoock my big day! I’m going to find my fiancée.

Ophelia: So you think some gossip writer and his spiteful wife know best?

Miko: They clearly know enough.

Ophelia: So Penny is a tacky, vapid narcissist?

Miko: What? Of course not!

Ophelia: Well that’s what Ty and Tiff said about her and you seem to trust their opinion more than your own feelings!

Miko: …

Ophelia: I’m no relationship expert, but you and Penny obviously adore each other. I think that’s more than worth dealing with the judgmental sons of llamas of the world.

Miko: Of course it’s worth it for me. But what about her?

enny is silent as she listens.

Ophelia: Is Penny the kind of person to do anything her heart isn’t 1000% into?

Miko: No.

Ophelia: Exactly. She wants the best of the best all the time. Why would she want any less in a life partner? You’re amazing! Penny clearly thinks so.

Miko: I want Penny to be happy. I’d give her the world if I could. I just… I don’t understand what she even sees in me.

Penny: I do.

Miko: Penny!

Penny: Thanks, Ophelia. I’ll take it from here.

[taylorgraymoore]

November 22, 2023

Writing on the SkyTrain after work again—that seems to be a good time for me. The end of a day, I’m slightly exhausted, I can review things and I’m too spent to get distracted by much. I put in earbuds and here I go.

Of course, I’m also too spent to do much more than a stream-of-consciousness ramble. Pros and cons.

I am drained. Retail work at a busy and chaotic store is a miserable way to spend a life, even with good benefits. People get sucked into it, often enough become what are called lifers. I am afraid enough of that happening to me in some form or another. I’m working to become a product consultant (PC), which is a nicer job within the same context: work with the high end products, run the tasting bar, talk to customers, I’d get to go to tastings, no more extremely early mornings or extremely late nights—but, especially if I stay at Brighouse, it’s another form of the same. Lifer. Something drains out, slowly, that’s already happening, until one day I retire and I looked back and see life already happened without me. That’s the human condition for most of us, I realize, and I don’t think I’m entitled to get out of it anymore than anyone else. And I do have good benefits: dental and paid vacation, so what am I complaining about? 

But still. Not the best way to spend a life. It takes over, and there’s no content to it.

I write, and that is my way of tearing a hole in it and slipping out for a bit. As often as I can. 

That’s what it’s become. It’s better than most things I could be using to accomplish that end—although I do drink a bit, I admit, an occupational hazard. 

Both occupations. 

Met a friend for brunch this morning, walked down to Aphrodite’s Cafe on 4th through the dying rain. I was worried the rain would be harder, but this is Vancouver and here a morning’s rain often enough done before the day has time to get going. So I wasn’t too worried. I don’t mind walks after a rain: the air feels so fresh. Good way to start a day. None of that pressure of all of that that I was kvetching about above with me, just the fresh air and the neighbourhood and twenty minutes of my feet on the pavement. 

See, this is why I should write these earlier in the day—they’d be a lot more of that and a lot less misery. That would be a touch pleasanter to read.

There are two Aphrodite’s, kitty-corner from one another. One’s a pie shop, one’s a full restaurant with brunch and everything, and we went into the wrong one first—I’d only ever been in the pie shop. And for Ken (should I be using fake names for this? I’ll change some), it was just that the pie shop was what was on the side of the street he exited the bus on. So, we went over to the other side. Brunch Aphrodite’s was cozy. We sat down, ordered egg dishes and caffeinated drinks (as one does), talked about quantum physics and Carl Jung. Projects we’re working on. It was good. Ken’s a guy I know a little, through another friend, that I’d like to see more of. Good company. 

Notably, he’s the first person to understand a project I’m working on, one of many incomplete jumbles I’ve got. He articulated it better than I ever have. What was it? “Lola is a symbol. Whereas a semiotic sign signifies something, a symbol signifies itself. Its meaning is ineffable.” Roughly that. Jungian language. Lola is is the abstract locus of human fanaticism. I would explain more, but it’s late. Another time. Anyway, I was pleased we found a way to put it. 

This sounds an awful lot like a diary entry. That’s about all I can muster after a shift like this, typing on my phone for the thirteen minutes I’m on the train. Hopefully I’ve jazzed it up in editing a bit. (Because here I am, two hours later finishing a tequila and soda, attempting to jazz it up.)

There’s a new PC (product consultant) being trained at our store starting today. He’s not staying at our store—he works in North Burnaby, usually. I got to interact with him a little as we passed each other in the store. He was full of energy, as a parent would say. Got to do a wine tasting near the end of the shift, because our on-duty product consultant was giving him one and I happened to be standing nearby. I hadn’t had any of what was there and, because I work as a PC now and then, I need to know how wines taste. It’s also one of the better parts of the job—and, yes, I do spit it out. 

The Burnabian was quite slow. He took notes as he went. He would never keep up at a formal tasting—but he’s new. 

The train is nearly at my stop, and I’ll stop then. 

I passed by the SPCA thrift store on Broadway after brunch, to pick up gloves and a warm hat for my trip to Montreal. The air there gets so cold that it hurts my hands—so it wouldn’t do to pick something up after I arrive. Found out after the fact that I didn’t need to buy new anything—there’s a drawer full—but that’s fine. Something refreshing about having gone to do it, picked them out. Part of why this was, really, a good day.