#a tag i have not used in a really long time since i have not had the gumption to post actual fic in um

[multipleoccupancy]

Theo hesitated to explain why other agents fought, while yes they could and would attack each other while going through violent episodes, he'd seen it, done it and handled it in the past too and those were forgivable. "I would never blame an agent for an episode," he said very clearly, it was never their fault, not really but it was also why he had taken the precautions of telling Samantha where his weapons were so that the damage he could do was limited. "Sometimes they just have high expectations, hot tempers and happen to be armed."

Violet's questions were relentless but he did see he could offer her some reassurance that he had proper support while out in the field if he answered her. "Whatever we need," he said honestly, "sometimes we have to source it ourselves but a lot of the time the agent coordinating the mission is able to pull in resources." He thought for a moment, "Remember what I told you about Montana?" That it had not been a bio terrorist incident but an unnatural event. "I could use the military to cordon off the whole area, another part of the team was able to use a helicopter." Which had been a horrendously close call! "I asked and received military help." He hoped he had done a good job in Montana and hadn't forgotten anything there, his mind replaying the mission time and time again to pick out anything he might have done wrong or missed.

He offered a polite nod of confirmation that he was at least better than he had been, sure he still had a long recovery ahead. She seemed relieved though and he was glad she was not as worried about him as she had been. Not wanting to spoil that for her he just smiled at her relief. "You don't need to worry about me," he said softly though it was of course valid that someone did! It shouldn't have to be his fourteen year old daughter. He wished he could have hidden everything he did from her, then she might have been as oblivious as the rest of the family was, just having seen some flame creatures and nothing else. He cursed Sloane every day since he had exposed her to monsters.

At least Violet claimed she was feeling physically better, though he did observe her carefully as he usually did when he sensed there was something else going on that she wasn't telling him. "And you haven't been travelling since?" He checked with her, that being his primary concern in the moment, still settled in the belief she would go to see her therapist and he would tag along - which he was not so settled about but if it meant she would go then he would put up with it for her sake.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

"That's true," she admitted sheepishly. Anyone could make stupid decisions. She was certainly not immune to stupid decisions! Like trying to escape from a ward by stealing discharge papers. And... she had been responsible for civilian casualties before. Her mind shut down the images before they could burn themselves into her retina. But why would the agents attack each other, if they were on the same team? "Do agents fight when they have a violent episode?" she asked, because it seemed like the only explanation to her.

And she supposed she shouldn't judge agents for walking away, even if she had a tendency to do the exact opposite -much to her dad's despair. Still, if they worked for Delta Green, shouldn't they face the monsters no matter what? Violet wondered if the agents who fled were punished, but much like her questions about rules, she kept it to herself, worried it might trigger her dad. "Major help? Like what?" The military?

Violet smiled a teary, relieved smile. "Are you? Really?" she asked, almost to be sure that she hadn't dreamed it. "I'm so glad to hear that, Dad. I was so- so worried."

How was she feeling? Better now that she knew her dad was getting better too. "I'm ok, my arm doesn't hurt too bad anymore." As for her own memories of the ward, well... she certainly wasn't going to burden her dad with that. And while her nights had been plagued with nightmares, she had managed to wake up silently every time. Wide-eyed and crying, but silent. Violet was sure she was going to be ok, anyway. She had started to write the most painful memories down, in a journal she hid in her treasure box. She was no writer, but it helped her to turn them into epic stories. How she had broken that nurse's nose or killed the Star Vampire.

[hobby1008]

My only brother

If you use a translator, the sentences may be strange.

minji X M Reader

Tags: incest,creampie

“Minji, you’re really the best. I like it so much. You like it too, Minji?” Minji was being fucked by her boyfriend. But Minji wasn’t as happy as her boyfriend. No, maybe she looked like she was in a bad mood.

“Yeah.. I like it too.” But Minji didn’t want to break her boyfriend’s mood, and she responded to his words in a cold tone.

“I’m going to cum. I’ll cum inside you.” At his words, Minji faked a moan without saying anything, and he started ejaculating inside her.

His amount was too small to satisfy Minji. But he got tired and collapsed next to Minji, and he fell asleep after a brief lovemaking with Minji.

Minji didn’t tell him that he was asleep, and went to the bathroom and started touching herself, which was not satisfying.

That’s why Minji was always masturbating without her boyfriend’s knowledge, and she was becoming increasingly frustrated.

Minji went home on a long-awaited vacation from her company. She headed home without telling her family,

in order to give them a little surprise.

She opened the door and went in, smiling, thinking of her parents who would be surprised to see her in front of her house.

It was not her parents but you, her real brother, who greeted Minji. And you were naked after just finishing your shower. The two of you were surprised to see each other, and you immediately covered your body with a towel and headed to your room.

But Minji saw you. Your dick was incomparably big compared to her boyfriend. Minji had a moment of impure thought, got out, and started talking to herself.

“Wake up, Kim Minji. He’s my real brother. You can’t do that.”

While she was talking to herself, her parents arrived home, and when they saw Minji, they were happy to see her and welcomed her with encouragement, “It’s been a while since we’ve seen Minji. It’s a good thing. “I bought Minji’s favorite meat, but Mom will make it quickly.”

“Yes, Mom.” Minji smiled at her words, and she went into her room, changed her clothes, and came out.

That’s how Minji’s family had a pleasant dinner.

They were happy to be able to eat the delicious meat and food that they couldn’t eat on their diet, and the family that did it together

But you were there too, and Minji couldn’t help but have impure thoughts looking at you, and that tormented her.

After finishing dinner, her family went to their own rooms to rest.

She put her hand inside her panties and touched herself. Imagining happy times with you, Minji knew that it shouldn’t be done, but that alone couldn’t stop Minji’s desire that had built up so far.

However, Minji’s desire couldn’t be resolved with masturbation alone, and Minji’s longing for you grew stronger.

Eventually, Minji started planning sex with you. Minji knew that it was something she absolutely shouldn’t do, but there was no one who could resolve this desire as much as you.

Your big dick and rather your real brother are the best conditions. Minji was a celebrity, and she couldn't do it with other men because she had a boyfriend, and you were the only man she could trust to keep her secret.

The next day came, and luckily her parents were going on a trip, so they were out of the house for a few days, and only you and Minji were there.

Minji immediately started to put her plan into action.

그녀는 당신을 유혹��기 위해 짙�� 화장을 하고, 그녀의 몸을 드러내는 옷을 입었다. 그녀는 거실로 향했다.

There you were, and Minji intentionally let you admire her body.

Minji knew that you were looking at her body, and she showed you more boldly, and you couldn't take your eyes off of it,

Minji started to get excited that you were looking at her.

At that time, you got up from the sofa and headed towards Minji, and Minji waited for him, thinking that he would cover her.

But you passed Minji and went into the room, and Minji sat there, full of disappointment at her older brother ignoring her. Minju sat there for a while, dumbfounded.

That's when Minji gave up and got up to head to her room, and she saw you.

You were masturbating, which she could see through the crack of your room door, and Minji felt a little bit of resentment and at the same time, she started to get excited.

That excitement turned into Minji's determination to have sex with you, and she immediately opened your door, approached you, turned the chair around, and got between your legs.

You were surprised by Minji's sudden appearance and her actions.

She looked at you with a pouty expression and started stroking her vagina.

You immediately tried to stop Minji, "You're too much, oppa, you got excited by my body and you're going to finish it alone."

But Minji's words hit the nail on the head, and your body froze in that state, and you had to shake off Minji's actions, but her touch felt so good, and you felt it while moaning.

“No.. Minji, you can’t do this.” You tried to stop Minji, but

“Please, oppa, help me. I’m saying that you’re the only one.”

With a pleading look in your eyes, you said.

“What do you mean, you’re the only one? Your boyfriend.”

“Don’t talk about that bad kid. You’re always satisfied with yourself and small, so I can’t even feel it.”

You immediately understood what Minji was going through. “Please, oppa, I’m begging you to do this with me.”

As she begged you with a pleading expression and a loving look, the guilt that had remained inside you began to turn into excitement.

You immediately picked Minji up and threw her on the bed, and immediately took off all her clothes.

Her body was so beautiful. The lines of her body were perfectly formed. And her milky skin began to excite you even more.

You immediately put her nipple in your mouth and sucked it, and started caressing her pussy with your hands.

She then moaned as if she had been waiting and surrendered her body to you. “Oppa, I like it.. but please put it in quickly…” You brought your dick to her pussy entrance at her earnest request. Minji was looking at you with a face full of anticipation, and you had a brilliant idea while looking at it, and instead of putting it in her pussy, you rubbed it against the entrance and teased her.

She responded right away. “Oh, oppa, please put it in quickly.” “Minji, tell me how much you want my dick, and I’ll put it in.” Minji then looked at you with a lustful expression and said. “Oppa, put that big dick in my pussy, please…

Stir my pussy with that dick.”

You smiled at her plea and started putting your dick in her pussy as she wished. Then she started moaning as she received your dick as if her long-cherished wish had come true.

“Fuck,” she moaned, squeezing your dick tightly, wanting more, and your hips started shaking for her pussy that was showing off her wet and warm heat.

“This is it.. this is.. so good, oppa” She cried happily as you thrust, and you, for her, “Minji, I’ll solve all the desires that have built up, my pretty sister”, you murmured in her ear as you increased your speed. You hit her most sensitive spot, and Minji’s legs were pulled up to your shoulders, and her entire body was arched in a beautiful arc.

You were satisfied with her reaction and whispered in her ear, “Good, Minji? Did you want to feel oppa’s dick like that?”

She looked straight at you and nodded, and said, “This is the best, oppa, I’m happy right now, I feel like I’m in heaven”

“Then oppa, I have to work harder for our Minji” After saying this, you slightly adjusted your position and began to rub her clitoris with your hand and thrust her pussy with more force.

“Oppa, it’s so good, there, ugh..” Minji reached orgasm before she could finish her words. Her uterus contracted violently and hot water spurted out, soaking you.

She was squirming in the aftermath of her orgasm, and you started poking her pussy for her.

“Ah.. Oppa, I just came.. That’s why it’s even better, there more Oppa, put your dick in there more, it’s so good,” she said, looking at me with an expression full of love.

You grabbed her waist at her desperate request, and started poking the space for her.

“It’s the best, oppa, fill me up with your dick and…” Minji let out a happy moan, and at the same time, she was falling into unprecedented bliss, and you watched her reaction, your movements became more intense, and you almost penetrated her.

The two of you no longer care about your guilt and just want to enjoy this forbidden pleasure. Your dick is like the strongest aphrodisiac, making her unable to get off. "Oppa, I think I'm going to cum again." Minji continued to moan as she shook her chest violently, reaching the peak of her orgasm once again.

You also sensed that the moment of climax was approaching due to the tightness caused by that.

"Minji, oppa, I think I'm going to cum now." she said.

Then she hugged you and said, "Do it inside oppa, without leaving a single drop.."

That's how you ejaculated a huge amount of semen into your younger sister's pussy.

Minji was lost in the pleasure she had wanted so much from your ejaculation, and every cell in her body was filled with satisfaction. You lay down under her panting, your bodies still connected, enjoying the afterglow of your climax.

After a while, you laid her down next to you, and while looking at you with loving eyes filled with Minji's happiness, you kissed her,

and said, "My oppa is the best after all."

You opened your arms towards her like that, and she came into your arms and asked, "You will continue to make Minji happy, oppa?" You hugged her and said, "Of course, if it's for our Minji, I will do anything."

[constantcrying]

Ersatz, baby

m!shape-shifter!yandere x gn!reader. 4k words. yes. I'm so sorry.

TW: Obsession, possessive thoughts and behaviors, mentions of violence, gore, consumption of humans, idk how to tag it but the shape-shifter eats humans and has considered eating the reader so like heads up about that

Heeeeey

Somebody PLEASE tell me if the length of this piece is detrimental to the experience of reading it it’s like 4k words. Here’s something I’ve been kicking around for ages. Frankly I am shocked I have something at all after a year

“Odd couple” is the best way to describe the friendship between you and Sasha. You’re awkward and responsible and outwardly boring. He’s highly social, wild, and intriguing. You’re genuine to a fault. He’s an expert in facades; he is a facade. You’re human and he’s something utterly not.

The freak accident of affection between you two is...still hard for him to wrap his head around. It seems to be your fault. If you weren’t so pitifully earnest toward him he would have just gotten rid of you. You were aware of his true nature, and definitely scared of it, but you kept going out of your way to be the Good Roommate™, to play friends. He had to let you live, just to see what the fuck your deal is. Now it’s too late. Now he wants you around.

You are the only person in the world that he has shown his real body to.

Some of his victims have seen it, but you’re the first person he intended to see it. The decision was quiet, perhaps a little impulsive. A simple exchange of “What are you, Sasha?” and “I don’t know. Wanna see?” had you both going to your bedroom and locking the door.

For the first time in his life, his heart pounded as he shed his clothes. He almost didn’t want you to turn around and look. It might be better if you only knew the carefully curated version of him, the handsome appearance he painstakingly crafted for the easiest social life. Even though you already knew he wasn’t human and pretended it didn’t matter, what if you saw him now and knew with absolute certainty that you didn’t want to look at him ever again? He would have to swallow you whole. He wasn’t sure if he could do it.

Regardless he said, “turn around.”

He showed you the unvarnished form that he had inherited from his mother. To be frank: It’s a predator’s body. Worse that that, it’s a monster’s. There are features and junctures of him so uncanny it must hurt the logical mind to observe them. If you were ever looking for the perfect rebuttal to the existence of a loving God, look no further than his cruel mouth.

He crept onto you bed looking like this, towering over you, your bed-frame screaming to protest the weight. He’d have to cut you off at the source, if you were to scream. And though he could smell the fear wafting from your skin, could practically feel the constricting blood vessels and tightening muscles in you, you still asked him, “Hey, is it more comfortable? Do you prefer being like this?”

Honestly? He isn’t sure there’s a body that’s comfortable and natural to him anymore. He’s so used to a human state that anything else feels awkward, even when it’s easier to shift to. As you took his massive claws into your hands and examined them with gentle curiosity, though, he was struck by the warmth of you. It was a long time since anyone had really touched him. It might’ve been even longer for you, loner that you are. Which meant you were the only person who could understand the way he felt in that moment.

He flopped over next to you, letting out an embarrassing dog-like whine, but you just laughed sweetly, and shifted pillows around to accommodate his bigger size. His feet and tail still dangled awkwardly off the bed. “You can relax in here,” you said. “You’re always welcome, since you’re my friend.”

You rambled about your classes and professors until all the adrenaline had left your system. He didn’t say much in response, but you didn’t mind. After a while, you could almost meet his preternatural gaze. You even dozed off like this, with a monster beside you, you utter weirdo. He put his head closer to your chest and felt your sleeping breaths for hours, thinking that your throat would be butter-soft under his teeth.

Sasha knows very little about what he really wants. He’s not sure if he’ll stay in his major, or in school, or even in human society. He knows for certain, though, that he wants more time to study you. He wants just your quiet voice and humble body heat and the understanding that, whatever he is, it isn’t going to chase you away.

So you two keep doing this. Every few days he’ll skulk over to where you are and make room for himself, and the two of you will talk for hours. Sometimes he shifts. He doesn’t always want to, but you get more comfortable with him that way. You...seem more keen to pet him when he looks and acts like an animal, and he wants you to touch him so bad he’s worried he’ll start asking for it. Could he ever live it down, if he started asking to be coddled? No. So he wags his tail and butts his head against you like that isn’t it’s own special brand of pathetic.

It’s not like you’re one to judge, though. You’re just so happy to have a friend that comes to hang out with you. You’ve never had very many of those, but of course Sasha knows he’s extra special. There’s much he’s learned about the world from his strange perspective, and you’re always excited to listen to his stories.

You do understand that he needs to eat a lot. You see him clear out four bacon cheeseburgers as a snack once, and he cracks jokes about how breakfast was red bull and adderall, but you know that it’s just a part of his biology that works against him. So you go out of your way to cook more meat, and give him bigger portions than anyone else, ignoring the way your blatant favoritism must look to the other roommates and occasional visitors. He doesn’t bother explaining that your idea of a big meal is like his idea of an appetizer, and he never will.

He doesn’t talk about the people he eats, either. He’s starting to think you don’t realize he does that.

(If you really don’t know, if this is the way you treat him when you don’t know, there’s no fucking way he can tell you.)

As for you, you talk about your courses and your classmates. From the way you talk around it, he’s mostly figured out the sad shape of your childhood and he decides that’s why you’re so weird and naive.

Mostly, you tell him about your hobbies, and your taste in TV shows. That’s when something in you is unlocked, revealing you to be more witty and giggly than your initial impression. It’s gratifying to know most other people don’t discover that side of you, like being the only prospector who knows where gold is. You tell him about everything you used to watch and play with your best friend, back when she had time for you. He’s a little confused by just how fervently you love things, how you start to care one day and then never, ever stop.

He never did it before, but now the two of you watch garbage TV together. (You tried to invite your best friend to join you, but to Sasha’s satisfaction, she gave you that cringing sort of smile and told you she didn’t have time.) Every Friday comes a new episode of Crater County, this schlocky supernatural police procedural, so every Thursday night you ask him to watch it with you. He’s a busy man, of course, but he’ll fit it into his schedule since he knows you so look forward to it.

This Thursday you must have forgot.

Somehow, in the early morning on Friday, you slip away without Sasha noticing. He wakes up to the honks of geese and distant cars, and the ever-present hum of electricity. As he thinks of pestering you to make ham and eggs, just to watch you get annoyed, he notices the conspicuous lack of your heartbeat.

He knows better than to doubt his hearing. But he still goes into your room across the hall to find the bed unmade and unoccupied. He almost goes to check your pillow for warmth, only stopping when he realizes it’s...stupid, to do that. He stays in the doorway for a long moment, overly-conscious of your scent. Then he goes to pace in the empty kitchen.

It hadn’t occurred to you to say goodbye to him, or leave him a portion of breakfast as you usually do, so you must have been in a hurry. Distantly, he remembers your fast food job. You probably got called to cover for someone at the last minute. Even so, shouldn’t you have said something to him? So that he wouldn’t wonder? Because he’s—

—well, you called him your friend.

It bothers him the more he thinks about it, while he showers and gets coffee and goes to class. The two of you haven’t talked since Monday and it feels weird. You always tell him when you’re going out, so what happened? Where can he even find you?

Not that he would need to find you. Sasha isn’t clingy. Clingy is his ex making alt account after alt account to pester him on instagram with stupid questions like, “are you seriously trying to ghost me you asshole?” And Sasha isn’t doing that. He hasn’t even texted you yet, because you haven’t texted him, and you always text first. If you don’t go through with the trouble of asking for him, he absolutely will not bother coming.

You haven’t sent so much as a “hey!” in the last seventeen times that he’s checked, so. Guess you guys aren’t hanging out. Whatever. It’s not like he doesn’t have stuff to do. He’s behind on several classes, a habitual skipper, and there are four other people begging him to come out tonight. He hasn’t hunted in a while so he should probably do that too.

He should go and talk to other humans, re-acquire their speech patterns and body language. He should catch himself when he makes gestures you would make, stop himself from making them. That’s why he goes to lunch with a friend group he met last month, and fits in with them seamlessly—or, almost seamlessly. No one can say he isn’t a good talker, slick as oil and quick with comebacks, but he’s a little more sensitive than usual today. While he’s in the middle of charming them he slips up and says something you would say.

“Isn’t that a Crater County reference you just made?” One girl says to him, stopping the conversation cold. “I thought you hated nerdy stuff like that.”

Sasha laughs shortly. “What? Says who?”

“Says you. You laughed at someone’s Supernatural tattoo at the party, remember?”

“It was a fucking horrendous tattoo. And I don’t like Crater Country or whatever, either, I just know some lines because my,” his throat feels like a desert, but he continues, “my roommate is obsessed with that shit.”

They brush over that thought soon enough, shifting focus to upcoming concerts, but Sasha can’t get comfortable again. He feels like he forgot how eyes work, and his are going to slip and turn reptilian in the middle of this well-populated restaurant. He’s scared his hands are going to morph into paws. In the end, he excuses himself before he can finish his meal.

Since he’s still quite hungry, Sasha decides he’ll drop by the butcher and get a few pounds of beef chuck to tide him over until dark. He’ll go to that fancy shop with all the grass-fed cruelty-free organic stuff, because he’s passionate about the well-fare of livestock, and definitely not because it’s just down the street from your job.

But since he’s there, anyway, he’ll pass by and peek through the windows to see what’s happening there.

Your restaurant is packed. A sports team, or special event or something, has filled every table in sight, and more people queue up at the register. You’re boxing fries and passing them over to waiting customers’ trays. Even though you’ve got mountains of food to work through, you’re smiling. It takes only a few seconds to find out why, following the arc of your eye up to a man in the same uniform as you.

The guy is tall and average-looking, and he keeps leaning toward you to talk like he doesn’t know how to speak loudly even though he works in a goddamn kitchen. Sasha doesn’t know him by face, or by word of mouth, since you’ve never told him about a co-worker that can make you giggle so much.

Why hadn’t you told Sasha about the funniest man of the century, huh?

More importantly, why hadn’t you noticed the way this asshole was looking at you? Staring so intently, exaggerating his expressions, mirroring you. All the same tricks Sasha has used before but with none of the grace, and yet somehow you liked it from this guy when Sasha had seemed scary to you.

He just can’t understand. That wouldn’t be such a problem if he hadn’t believed that he did understand you, and the way your mind worked. You had said Sasha was your friend and you had sat in the truth with him, relieved to see him for what he truly was, and you had been asking after his health and his happiness, wasting nights with him, cooking for him, cuddling up with him, and now here you were forgetting about his existence with another friend that he didn’t know about.

Sasha has been cheated on by a partner in the past. They left him one night and came back in the wee hours smelling like a fresh shower, with traces of someone else’s odor still clinging to them. It hadn’t felt like anything, to know that they were sneaking behind his back. Not a betrayal, no sting or ache in the heart he supposedly had. He broke up with them a week after, and that, like all his other breakups, was simply annoying. Sasha had always felt like he wasn’t with any of the people he was with. He was watching them, and touching them, and living among them, but there was some kind of invisible barrier between him and all the world. So when they broke a connection, well, what was there to even break? How could he care?

And why did being cheated on come to mind when he saw you happy with some other guy?

Sasha would later find out that you pulled a twelve hour shift that day, and, pushover that you were, you didn’t take a break long enough to check your phone. But he doesn’t stay to watch you, he really couldn’t. A pit had formed in his stomach, some void, some black hole that he had to attend to.

He leaves you there in your job and your apparent fun, none the wiser, and goes to the butcher. He gets himself a rack of ribs, and a few pounds of steak, and a heart just because the shop had one on hand and they were happy to serve a customer with such deep pockets as him. He gets a couple of cheeseburgers for the ride home and finishes them in a few bites.

As soon as he knows your other roommates aren’t home, he tears into the paper packaging of the prepared meats and gorges himself over the kitchen sink, soiling his shirt with myoglobin. It all tastes like ash, disappearing into him the way so many things do. When he’s done, when every last shred of flesh and sliver of bone has been swallowed, his stomach growls.

He’s always been this empty. Maybe that was the thing you saw that made you so afraid upon first meeting him—the bottomless trench that he actually was.

You said he was your friend. You knew what he was and didn’t back away. But you have so little else in your life. If you gained anything more, real friends, real family, a lover, wouldn’t someone as hollow and alien as Sasha be easily discarded?

There’s nothing for it. He has to go and hunt now.

Your co-worker is pitifully easy to discover. By checking the likes on your posts, he finds the creep has been hounding you for three weeks now. His unmitigated social media addiction leaves the entirety of his existence splatter across the internet. Sasha learns and forgets his name. He knows exactly what place he’ll be at tonight, with whom, for how long. He shifts to look exactly like you, heads out and stops at the right street corner with a bulky gym bag, waiting.

It’s so easy. Sasha can play You, but this guy hardly deserves all that effort. It’s enough to show up magically with your face, even if your clothes and piercings seem out of place. All Sasha has to do is bat lashes and flash a smile that he has already memorized—your stupid sincere grin that had made you, like the sun, difficult to look at directly—and this idiot thinks the person in front of him is really you, out on the same night by coincidence. He’s happy to see you, and happier still that you want to go somewhere together. He lets Sasha take him by the hand, convinced that the two of you are going out for drinks through innocuously empty backstreets. It doesn’t strike him as weird that you’re so energetic and flirty all of a sudden. Asshole.

He at least has the decency to carry the bag, no doubt hoping to come off as a gentleman.

“Why a duffel bag, anyway?” He marvels.

“To change clothes before I go home, silly,” Sasha tells him, leading him further into the night.

It turns out the co-worker is deeply uncomfortable with silence. He cracks jokes that aren’t funny, to which Sasha politely chuckles for what is only ten minutes but feels like an hour.

“When you kept turning me down,” he says, predictably, “I was worried you had a boyfriend or something.”

“Why would I not tell you if I had a boyfriend?” Sasha croons in your voice, fighting with all his will-power to not crush your co-worker’s hand. They’re finally on a quiet street, between two condemned houses, where there are no cameras and no pedestrians.

“Haha, I don’t know. You’re like, really private. That roommate you talk about all the time? The one going to the same school? I honestly feel like I know more about her than I know about you.”

“You mean, ��him’? Sasha?” Sasha blinks owlishly with your eyes, his heart melting a little when he imagines you gushing about him to other people.

The guy laughs nervously. “No, I mean Maya. Is Sasha another roommate? Have you mentioned her before?”

Really. Maya. That “best friend” who basically pretends you don’t exist, who takes up valuable real estate in your mind when some people who have spent months getting to know you don’t even get a text.

Sasha gives up on looking friendly.

Your co-worker has finally sensed something is off, wincing as he tugs his hand out of Sasha’s vice-grip. Stretching out his fingers, he asks, “Hey, how much farther ‘til we get there? I swear we’ve passed like, three bars already...”

He doesn’t get to say more because Sasha lets out his teeth and goes for the throat.

It must be said that a warm meal always beats a cold one, but other that that it’s a shitty fare, gristly and lacking in flavor. This guy’s blood, fresh from the veins, is flat and forgettable. Even the marrow of his bones disappoints. At least he didn’t put up a fight...though maybe some enrichment could have saved this boring dinner.

Sasha feels more bloated than full when it’s all over. He wipes down and changes into fresh clothes, stuffing all the bloody garments into the duffel bag. He still feels kinda gross, and considers a long, hot shower while picking muscle fibers from between his teeth.

Are you going to worry about your co-worker? Are you going to miss him? Will you cry if they identify his blood on clothes found in the dump? Will you even tell Sasha why you’re crying?

Sasha snaps out of his deep thoughts when his phone buzzes. The text from you reads:

hey! i forgot to ask, are you on for crater county tonight?

What the fuck. Renewed frustration flushes through his system. What is he, your backup plan? He has a life—actually, many more lives than you! You should know better than to screw around with his time. He shouldn’t even dignify your bullshit with a response, but he does anyway—

At a party

And your answer is,

oh ok

we’ll watch it some other time

have fun!

…

Stay safe ok! Call me if you need something

It’s such a low blow he has to wonder if you’re doing it on purpose: you’re telling him all the same things he’s heard you tell Maya when she blows you off. He can hear the disappointment and embarrassment in your voice, the way you assure her of your eternal affection and concern while she practically dismisses you. Once he’s imagining your face, then, all he wants in the world is to look at it.

He’s a good runner. He’s barely out of breath when he arrives home, tossing aside his sweaty hoodie and kicking off his shoes while he quietly closes the door behind him. The dishwasher is running. He can just make out the low moan of the central air system, and one lazy heart thumping in the living room.

For a moment you don’t notice that Sasha is there. He gets to watch you quietly. You’re languishing on the couch in your bedclothes, staring blankly at the No Signal screen on the TV with a bowl of popcorn untouched on the coffee table. It surprises him. He hasn’t seen you with an expression this dull in a while.

But it disappears in an instant.

“Sasha!” You bolt upright, your face brightening like the sky at dawn when you find him standing in the doorway. “Did the party end already?”

He doesn’t know what to say.

You glance back at the TV. “Um, I swear I wasn’t going to watch without you! I was just…”

“Were you waiting for me?” He asks.

Your expression flickers, betraying the anxiety in your eyes before you have the chance to look away. Why did he even bother to ask? You’re here for him, like a puppy waiting for their owner, and suddenly he’s flushed and queasy—no, it’s not sickness that he feels, it’s butterflies. He’s so delighted he feels dumb, all of his frustration and embarrassing angst vanishing in an instant because all he can think of is how sweet you are.

“Ah,” he laughs dryly. “I’m screwed.”

Before you even know to cry out, he’s thrown himself at you, arms coiling around your waist. The two of you fall back on the couch.

When you get your bearings, you scold him. “Sasha, don’t just do that! You scared me!”

He mumbles, “I had a bad day.”

“...you did?” Your left hand cups his head, almost protectively, and your right strokes his back. “What happened? You’re not hurt, right? Are you hungry? I have some stuff in the fridge—”

“Can we just stay like this?” He asks.

“U-um. Well...” You must be thinking of your other roommates, who could walk in on this scene and “misunderstand” the relationship you have with him. You don’t want to cause weird rumors or tension. But he wants you so much he can’t pretend to be above it anymore. He squeezes you just a little bit, betraying his own desperation, so you say tenderly, “Of course we can.”

It’s scary to be honest. Sasha considers it contrary to his nature. However, he has never in his life avoided adapting or transforming to get what he wants. If he has to bare himself again to endear himself to you, he’ll do it.

“You’re the best friend I have,” he admits, “and I didn’t see you all day, and I missed you.”

Your heart quickens. “Sasha…”

“I know I’m being clingy. I just can’t help it. Say you missed me too. Say I matter to you.”

“I did miss you,” you murmur, your smile bleeding into your voice. You pull him closer. “It feels wrong when we don’t talk all day. And I worry about you, you know. I never see you make a proper meal.”

“I like it better when you make it. So keep cooking for me. Please.”

“I was going to do that anyway,” you say.

His whole body thrums with satisfaction. You care about him so much he can feel it all the way through. He’s soaking up your warmth and savoring your smell, face pressed into your neck. Twisting his hands into your shirt, he finds that he resents your clothes. He even resents your flesh and bones for barring direct access to your heart. Right now, though, he’s almost content with a body in his grasp, a pulse fluttering under his lips.

God help him, he’s been starving for this.

[neysaadept]

Prometheus Chapter 9

Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader

Chapter 9 - Why Do You Keep Saying No?

Tags: Limited use of y/n but established last name. Swearing, mentions of the pandemic and human and sex trafficking. Canon typical violence. Sexual innuendos. Drinking. Smoking. Slow Burn. Murder. Depictions of Flaying. Implied Rape. Mentions of Date Rape Drugs. Strangulation. Restraints. Mental Institutions. PTSD. Childhood trauma. Psychological Trauma. Implied references to child abuse. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 6.6k (and I thought the last one was long)

AO3

Chapter 8

Two weeks have gone by since Indio and you turn inward, boxing up your feelings with a neat bow to return to status quo but you’re sure Prentiss wasn’t buying it. Thankfully, she was too busy with section chief duties to really bother you. Instead, you branch out and integrate further with the team at work. JJ found out you liked to run and meets you at Quantico a couple of days during the week once the kids were off to school to do it together. She took you around different parts of the campus to better familiarize the area. You and Rossi spend a lot of time talking about the history of profiling and the integration of its use into modern investigation techniques in his office as the two of you knock out paperwork. You also have a spirited conversation on why the Bears suck and where you were when the Cubs won the World Series. You, Tara, and Rebecca finally have a night together which you felt comfortable doing. You went to a nice Italian restaurant, knocked back a bottle of wine, and shared the basics on how you and Rebecca met, played pretend girlfriends as vengeance, and all about the HSC she was curious about.

You almost felt normal. But since you didn’t know what that was, perhaps you were just being human.

You and Brian kept in touch by phone and text since you weren’t needed face to face yet. He reminds you of your upcoming psych check in tomorrow which you send back an eyeroll emoji to express your disinterest but of course you would go. It was mandatory for as long as you said yes to joining the CIA.

Your side project with Penelope was also set up as FlamePit23 came up empty with any identifiable information. She ran an algorithm for most used words, phrases, and idiosyncrasies to assist the team pretend to be this woman. You, on the other hand, convinced Prentiss that it should be you posting as this user when the three of you talked about this in Garcia’s lair.

“It should be me,” you urged. “If this some how works and there’s a meeting, it needs to be a non-BAU related agent since Bailey outed you all at that fucking press conference. You know he’s looking into you if not already since the news of the shipping container broke.”

“Have you done this sorta thing before?” Penelope asks with that curious need that went beyond knowing a skillset. She wanted to know you!

You shake your head back and forth in debate before nodding. “Yeah.”

Her eyes widen and she squeals reading between the lines. “Are you a spy like Emily?!”

You lean back with a huff. “I can neither confirm nor deny this.”

“Oh my god! You’re a spy!” She points at you with excitement and then claps.

“I’m not not saying I’m a spy …”

Emily holds her hands up to stop the back and forth. “Regardless of how Whitlock came to possess these abilities, I’m authorizing her to make contact. But,” she looks sternly at the two of you, “you do this together and inform me the minute Sicarius takes the bait. Understood?”

“Yes Ma-!” Garcia was starting to say but the glare from Prentiss forced her to clamp her mouth shut.

You didn’t care. “Yes, Ma’am.”

And you so loved how Prentiss’ glare turned into a flustered eyeroll. Penelope noticed too.

There was also the case of Penelope blabbing out about your military training that piqued Luke’s interest since he was a former Army Ranger. Since there is downtime, he offers a chance to cut loose with you and spar instead of just beating on the heavy bag. With how you’re feeling, this was exactly what you needed. Not the psychiatrist. Good old fashion physical exertion with an opponent.

What you didn’t realize as you were getting ready in the locker room, is that the entire team, sans Prentiss, are going to be spectators … and there were bets. They knew Luke’s background and since yours was up in the air with how much military training you had coupled with what you learned from the CIA as a special agent, there was debate on who had the edge. Odds were 3/2 in Luke’s favor, but the team was split. JJ and Rossi bet on Luke and Penelope and Tara on you.

The four of them put out folding chairs at a safe distance from the blue sparring mat in a semi-circle, though JJ has her turned around to sit backwards on it for her own awkward comfort. There were other agents using the bags and practicing maneuvers scattered about the rest of the room, uncaring what the BAU was up to. Luke was first to arrive from the locker room with the appropriate red headgear and MMA boxing gloves, a black tank and shorts. You both decided on bare feet. He pats his chest and looks to JJ as she starts whooping. Rossi was amused.

Penelope was animatedly giving the double thumbs down as Tara booed. “You’re going down, Alvez! Whitlock’s gonna kick your ass!”

“Bullshit! My boy’s gonna drop her in five!” jeers JJ.

“Booooooo! A pox upon Alvez!” Penelope fires back.

“What in the hell’s going on here?” Prentiss’s voice carries over the trash talk. “I go looking for my team to check on deadlines and you’re all nowhere to be found. I only had this clue.”

She holds up a hot pink stinky note with the elegant scrawl of Penelope’s that said:

GYM AT 1200 MY LOVELIES

It was signed with a heart.

“Well,” she stood there with no answer and thrusts the note further, curling her other arm around her stomach. “Would someone like to explain why you’re all not at your desks working and Luke’s dressed like that?”

“Ah, just having some fun, Prentiss,” says Luke, knocking his gloves together. “Blowing off some steam.”

“And to be fair, you weren’t around to give a heads up,” explains Tara.

“You weren’t in your office,” says Rossi with a shrug. “We did look.”

“You all have access to my calendar to know where I’m at,” she shoots back while crumpling the sticky note, making Penelope pout. “Seriously. You all have better things to do-“

“Better things like what?” you ask, having joined the group after silently watching Prentiss berate the team. You watch as she turns around, her disappointing eyes switch immediately to surprise.

Like Luke, you wore the same red headgear and gloves but had your hair tied back in a ponytail. You also play with the mouthguard dangling from between your teeth as brown eyes look you up and down. You wore a blue sports bra and matching cross training shorts that showed off your lean, muscular build. The section chief never had a chance to see what was under all that clothing, unlike JJ who you ran with.

Rossi smirks and makes an educated announcement. “I think Emily’s in.”

“I, uh …” She has to tear her eyes away and looks at the expectant group. “Fine.”

You wonder why she gave in so quickly but shrug it off. “Hold on.”

Realizing Prentiss didn’t have a seat, you jog over to get another chair and set it up for her. Tara and Penelope raise a brow towards one another with interest. JJ commends the chivalry. “How nice of her to treat the boss right.”

“Oh, just shut it, Jareau.” But there wasn’t any bite in the words as she sat down and crossed her arms.

She ends up by Penelope who rocks side to side on her chair in thought before leaning towards Emily. “So, are you in on the betting since you’re all interested in the fight now?”

Penelope’s way of saying she was well aware of how quickly Emily’s tune changed after seeing Whitlock in different clothes without actually saying it. At least she wasn’t poking fun of her for it … yet.

Oh, what the hell, she thinks and nods. “What’re the odds?”

“3 to 2 favoring Luke. Me and Tara are on team cutie. Rossi and JJ are with Luke.”

Prentiss watches you and Luke discuss the terms of the fight. He had a height advantage and Ranger training, but you had similar training too. She had her suspicions that special forces were in charge of your training considering your secretive background. You clearly put forth effort into keeping in shape due to the demands of being a CIA operative, much to her wandering eyes delight. And since you were not not a spy, she was certain you had more in your bag of tricks than even those betting in your favor knew.

“Put me down for Whitlock,” she says without tearing her eyes away from you.

Penelope has to fight so hard that it wasn’t the only thing that Emily wants to go down on with Whitlock, but she behaves! She deserves a medal for that even though she should say it because Emily crumpled the cute note she wrote the team!

You and Luke tap gloves and both take three feet backwards to provide enough room to start. He put himself in a standard krav maga stance, relaxing his posture with a foot forward and his hands before him with his fingers spread out.

You just stood there, studying him, with your chin tucked down and standing similar to Luke. You were defensive without him easily reading you, which is what you want. You had been strenuously trained how to take down men like him in the field, and not just by military means alone. This would not be a flashy fight, but a fight to end quickly and decisively.

When you lock eyes you both nod as the agreed upon way to start the fight, and it begins.

Luke opens up offensively with straight punches that you anticipated. You duck down and back sweep Luke off his feet.

Rossi blinks in disbelief at what just happened in a few seconds. JJ looks the same but was able to verbalize what they both saw. “Holy crap!”

“She went all Karate Kid on him!” cheers Penelope but then has to admonish you playfully in the next breath. “But do not put him in a body bag! You are not Johnny Lawrence!”

Your brain was aware of the audience but as they were not a threat, it was background noise. The focus was Luke rolling off his back to stand up, which you allow. Now he knows you’re quick and would adjust his strategy, as would you. He lunges forward with an arm as a feint, but the true attack comes when he raises his dominant leg to kick into your side. You strike your forearm down for the block and with a focused yell, you thrust your palm forward and connect against Luke’s chest. You hear him wheeze at the sudden loss of air you force out of him as he goes down.

“What sort of training did you say she had again, Pen?” asks Tara. “Not that I’m upset that we’re winning so far, but this is pretty intense.”

“Just military.” She shrugs. “Nothing specific.”

“Looks like a bit of Marine training, maybe,” Rossi says offhandedly, but he wasn’t entirely convinced. Having served himself, he could see traces of the training he had but he could also tell you were drawing off other techniques in those few moves.

Prentiss wasn’t so sure that the military training you shared was what you were relying on either. You were anticipating Luke far too easily which indicated a more stringent martial arts training like Muay Thai or Jeet Kune Do. You were extraordinary to watch in these few moments with how you took command of the fight. You were stunning.

“Luke!” JJ shouts. “Stop falling on your ass and do something!”

His answer is a cough as you put more distance between him, allowing him a chance to get up. This is not how you would normally be out in the field, but this was a friendly fight and would give him one more chance. You watch as he puts an elbow to the mat to swing his body around and get to his feet. He sees you standing at attention, studying him.

“Okay …” he starts to say before taking several deep breaths while rubbing his chest. “That hurt.”

You remain impassive as you visualize dozens of scenarios that Luke could take. As he starts to come at you again, you block his punches with forearms, moving him around the mat with quick feet. You set him up how you want and fire back with two punches and a hook that he blocks but he misses how your heel turns at him, setting Luke up for a spin kick that connects right in his gut. Your feint works.

“Luke get up!” Which JJ does herself. She hopes that her voice will give him some strength to turn this fight around. Rossi is left shaking his head in amazement.

“Holy shit, girl!” Tara howls while clapping.

“She hasn’t won yet!” reminds Penelope.

“Eh, she will.” Emily points to you as you rush to the ground to hook one of Luke’s arms under yours and his head under the other. “Luke fell into her trap. She was playing him the whole time.”

With a firm grip of his tank, you tuck your head against his shoulder and plant your legs wide to counter any leverage he may have.

Luke struggles to find any give to overpower you. He tries to push up with his legs but is unable to flip over. Next, he tries moving his shoulders but with how you are able to control his upper torso, there was no momentum to even start. He grunts and pants, trying in vain to get off his back or get his legs around you, but your head was safely tucked in against his shoulder from any advantage he could find. As a last resort, he flails his arms to try and get a grip on anything, but your head was just out of reach as intended.

Rossi sighs, throwing his hands up. “I think we’re gonna have to call it.”

JJ sits down with a strangling groan as Penelope rises to her feet and applauds, cheering your name. “I knew you’d win!”

With controlling breaths, you confirm the victory with Luke. “You yield?”

He strains against your hold one last time before going limp. “Yes!”

And just like that, you untangle your arms free from him and hop up to stand. He looks up at you while catching his breath, arms flopping over his body to work out the tension your hold causes. “What the fuck, Whitlock...” His chuckle betrays his amusement despite his words sounding vicious. “I never had a chance, did I?”

“Kinda the idea to be underestimated.” You grin, offering a hand to help him to his feet. “Maybe you’ll have better luck next time.”

“Oh, you know it! Now I know what to expect.” He laughs, patting you on the back before you half hug each other with respect.

As Rossi and JJ were taking out money to settle the bet with Garcia, Tara and Emily were heading over to you. Tara playfully pushes your shoulder with a big smile. “That was impressive.”

You shrug and start feeling self-conscious. Prior to the CIA you would have bragged about your win and talked trash at Luke at how easily you won, but you have learned humility. “Thank you.”

Prentiss is surprised by the lack of bravado and found it quite interesting. This was a perfect time for playfully belittling Alvez losing after a commanding victory. But no. You were displaying genuine gratitude for showcasing your abilities.

One thing’s for sure, you can handle yourself in the field far better than I initially thought, she muses. “You had a lot more than military training.”

You blush and bring up a gloved hand, bringing your index finger and thumb together. “Maybe a wee bit.”

“Luke’s on to something, though,” she says, and you quirk a brow in question. “Think you can find time and pass some of this knowledge down to the team?”

“Uh …” you start rubbing the back of your neck at the unspoken compliment from Prentiss. It took you off guard and have to force your eyes to tear away from the intensely expecting brown ones that were fixed on you. You look around at the team and gently nod. “Sure. I, uh, I can do that.”

“Ladies!” Everyone’s attention was on Garcia now. “We have enough money to cover girls’ night tomorrow thanks to our CIA cutie de-mol-li-shing Lukey there!”

JJ comes up and punches her partner in the arm which makes him yelp. “Lucky I get drinks outta this but you!” She points at you. “You, me and darts.”

Prentiss smiles at the challenge. “My money’s on JJ then.”

You look quickly at Prentiss as you need to clarify something since the section chief hasn’t been acting like a sore loser. “Does that mean you bet on me?”

“I did,” she confirms with a nod. She knew who was going to win the moment you stepped into view, and it wasn’t just because she was caught off guard by how attractive you were. “I know a winner when I see one.”

“And this winner is finally going to go out with us!” Penelope joins the group flashing the wad of bills in the air in front of your face. “You flaked out last time.” Your eyes start to widen with apology, and she juts her lower jaw out petulantly. “No! You can’t bail on us again!”

“I’m sorry. I got CIA shit I need to deal with again,” The lie easily rolls off your tongue and the team accepts it. The only difference is that Prentiss was here this time when you said it and she was not convinced. She kept her poker face as you continue. “Full time consultant for the FBI still needs to go home and take care of things.”

“You’ve got to be kidding! You won us mad money to blow at the bar! You deserve to partake.” Tara says, trying to stroke your ego and win you over.

You half grin and shake your head no. “I’m really sorry. But hey! Think about it this way, there’s more food and drinks for all of you.” It was difficult for the BAU ladies to be upset with you for too long with that point. “I’ll even throw in another fifty as compensation for my absence.”

“Deal!” JJ swoops in to answer so fast to seal the deal.

“Good, now, I’m off to shower.” You look cheekily at Prentiss. “Think our boss might want us back working soon.”

“Astute observation, Whitlock. Fun’s over. Back to work. Except for you, Alvez.” She waves him off with a cringe. “You smell.”

The group laughs and he looks hurt. “What? And she doesn’t?”

Prentiss takes a hard look at you, and you fight a tremble that wants to erupt under her examination. Your skin was barely flushed with exertion, hair unkempt and loosened from the fight. There was just a small perceptible sheen of perspiration on your body or clothing, unlike Luke who had to work hard at trying to get at you or escape your hold. “Not that I can tell.”

Rossi whistles. “Take a hint, Luke, and go before you put the other foot in your mouth.”

Back at Langley, Brian was in his office between meetings working on getting his five recruits together for the holidays that were quickly approaching. It was going to be tricky as the other four were on various assignments around the world for the CIA just like you before Wilson roped you onto the BAU. He had to start pulling strings now and organize the right moves to get everyone stateside that would not compromise mission integrity. The other four recruits were not deep into a long-term op as you were so it would be easier, but not guaranteed. If he could pull it off, he knew it would make everyone happy, especially you and his wife. He started to think about this since mentioning it last month with you and instead of waiting until after your BAU assignment, he was trying to make it an earlier surprise.

Barton: Hey, I know you said not to bother you but there’s an Emily Prentiss from the FBI on the phone that wants to talk to you.

Eliza Barton was his executive assistant, and she knew that if Whitlock’s new boss wanted to talk, that she could inform Brian as she did just now over chat. Of course, he had to wonder what you did to prompt this call.

Korogoth: Go ahead and transfer the call.

His phone immediately rings and picks up. “I’m actually surprised it took you this long to call me. So … “ he leans back in his chair, “what did she do?”

“I’m sorry?” He heard Prentiss’ confusion.

“Whitlock. What did she do to prompt this phone call?” he clarifies.

“Oh. Nothing. She’s been a great addition to the BAU.”

That caught him by surprise, He wasn’t able to formulate a response because when people called him about you, it was due to your rough around the edge’s smartass remarks or skirting around orders that were still within bounds but questionable. Hearing a compliment was unexpected. Nice, but unexpected.

“That’s wonderful to hear. I’m pleased she’s acclimating herself to your team. Which makes me wonder what I can do for you.” The only other potential issue he could surmise was the stipend, but the money was easily allocated to the BAU budget. There were no issues with finance that he was aware of.

“The team and I want to know if you can reschedule her CIA commitments this weekend so she can join us for some socialization. Obviously matters of national security we understand.”

He had to think really hard what CIA commitments you had which ended up being none. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

There was a pause before Prentiss spoke up again. “She said last weekend and this she couldn’t come out to girls’ night because she’s unable to take care of all of her CIA duties being a full-time consultant.”

He rolls his head back in understanding. You were lying to the BAU because you didn’t want to hurt their feelings and used your non-existent CIA duties as a cover because no one would be able to verify it. You just didn’t know how tenacious Prentiss was when she put her mind to a task and clearly the section chief wanted you there with the team. It actually warmed his heart that the team took to you in this way and were disappointed you couldn’t be with them like this. And here he was worried that your gruff, humorous demeanor would rub your teammates the wrong way and cause friction as it had done with teams in the past. Which it did in the beginning, but Brian wasn’t aware of your fight with Prentiss yet.

“I think there’s been some mistake. She doesn’t have anything going on that requires her attention.” Yes, he was going to throw you under the bus and force you to be social. And yes, he warned you to be careful since you hadn’t been integrated into these situations in a long time, but this might do you some good as long as you kept the majority of your history quiet.

“None?” Prentiss sounded confused.

“Yeah, none. Her only obligation is to the BAU.”

“Huh. Interesting.”

He smiles against the receiver knowing that her mind was already working out a solution to your behavior. “Yeah. That’s one way of putting it.”

“Well, I won’t take up anymore of your time.”

“Nonsense. You can call me anytime regarding Whitlock if need be.”

“I appreciate that. Though that doesn’t surprise me.”

He furrows his brow. “Why’s that?”

“Oh, she let me know you recruited her.”

His chest tightened with surprise. You barely tell anyone that unless it was with good reason. What reason did you have to tell Prentiss this? “She did?”

“Yeah. She couldn’t go into the details, but it came up during an off the clock meeting.”

Since when did you have off-the-clock meetings? Brian was baffled by this odd course of events. “Well, she must trust you to offer that up. And considering we worked together once upon a time, Whitlock’s on target with that.”

“Isn’t that nice of you to say. But I do need to be going now. Too much work and not enough time to do it.”

He chuckles. “Same here. Oh, but before you go?”

“Yes?”

“It was complete bullshit that Bailey got the job, and you didn’t.” When he learned that Douglas Bailey was tapped to take the deputy director’s role instead of Prentiss, who made the short list, he was furious. He had to do his own reorganization of the CIA executive roles, but he put qualified candidates in place when the org chart was settled and not some bureaucratic tools of upper management that cared only for budget cuts, dissolving departments, and a whole lot of ass kissing. Yeah, there was a new normal after the pandemic, but there were ways to be efficient without favoritism.

There was a lengthy pause on the other end, but Brian was patient enough to wait it out.

“Thanks, Brian. That means a lot.” Another pause. “Actually, before we hang up, can I ask a favor?”

Friday night came and you are curled up on the couch reading Nona the Ninth with Metallica blasting through the surround sound at the safehouse. The condo was located in the Penn Quarter, one of many units in the seven-story complex. The unit you are occupying is available on loan to CIA agents that were displaced and needed short-term lodgings. This was never used for CIs* or anyone under arrest due to the high foot traffic in the area. Operatives had ample places to eat whether they were allowed to roam about or ordered delivery only. Public transportation was easily accessible to go anywhere in the DC area. Best part is you have a parking spot in the garage, a hot commodity in a city.

The condo was modern in design with white walls, hardwood floors and track lighting shaped in a V overhead. There were white chairs and a glass table close to the kitchen but left enough area open to walk through. The couch matched the design of the chairs with comfortable throw pillows, one that was cradling your head against the couch arm. A large screen TV was mounted on the wall to the left of the patio doors that led to a cramped balcony, but the view of the gardens below was spectacular. Generic pictures and fake plants rounded out the area to attempt hominess.

Living here for the last month has been nice but you didn’t commit to making it your own yet as you were still trying to come to terms with being in one place for an extended period of time in the states. As you are winding down from the day at Quantico, you treat yourself to a tumbler of Moscato. There are wine glasses, but you are not picky about what glass you use, just what is in easy reach. It is the perfect evening that you’re comfortable with … until there was a knock at the door.

You put the book down against your stomach with a concerning face. There was nothing on your agenda tonight so no one from the CIA should be here. Everything had to go through Brian for approval to set up a meeting here and if it was him stopping by, he would have texted you.

So, what the fuck?

You swing your legs off the couch to sit up, setting the book on the oval glass coffee table. You pad over barefoot to the open kitchen and grab your Glock that is holstered on the brown speckled quartz countertop. You pull it free and remove the safety, leaving the holster behind as you approach the foyer when another knock occurs. With your gun pointed parallel to the door, you lean forward to look through the peephole and see … Emily Prentiss?

What is she doing here and how the fuck did she find me?

You unlock the door and slowly open it unable to smooth your features away to look any less confused. Emily was dressed casually in two-inch flat-heeled boots, jeans, a red blouse that you couldn’t help noticing it accentuated her chest and had the usual long coat on. Your brain was finding this hard to comprehend right now that Emily Prentiss was standing at your door.

She returns the favor and studies you as the music shuffles to the next song - Training Season by Dua Lipa. You had positioned yourself in a defensive stance by the door, ready to bring your gun arm around if needed. Brown eyes enjoy the view as you had pajama shorts on and a black CIA tee which spoke of all the work you were supposedly doing with the agency – which was none.  She locks eyes with yours with a self-satisfied smile.

I need someone to hold me close, deeper than I've ever known

Whose love feels like a rodeo, knows just how to take control

When I'm vulnerable, he's straight-talking to my soul

Conversation overload, got me feeling vertigo*

She breaks the silence. “Busy working, huh?”

You scramble for an excuse, totally out of your element and comfort to be your cocky sure self. “I …Hey!” But that didn’t stop Prentiss from inviting herself in. “The hell, Prentiss!”

She strides through the foyer with hands in her coat pockets as you put the safety on your gun on the way to the kitchen. “Please, come on in!” you say venomously and place your gun back on the counter. You did not appreciate her behavior at all.

You could tell she was taking it all in to figure you out, but there was nothing of note to process as you still hadn’t brought your items in from storage. Everything was all chosen by the CIA as Emily soon surmised.

“Why did you lie?” she asks, eyes going to the tumbler and book on the coffee table. The only signs of you.

“Oh, no. You, first. How the fuck did you find me?” How dare she, how dare the BAU, break into parts of the CIA to find out where the hell she was. Penelope wasn’t doing that anymore!

She turns around and with one word shatters your anger into anxiety. “Korogoth.”

Why would Brian give up your location without your knowledge? That wasn’t the protocol you put in place. Unless … unless he fucking knew you’d run off and avoid a confrontation with Prentiss and come straight to him asking to be moved. Which really would only delay the inevitable conversation that you were going to have right now. You were well aware of the irony that you wanted to be included with the team at work but socially was fucking scaring you shitless. It always scared you shitless, which is why you’ve kept any personal involvement at work. Meeting Tara for dinner with Rebecca was different. It was a small intimate gathering and you would have done that with anyone that she was dating.

You once again stand before Prentiss with no retort because clearly your father figure wanted this to happen. As that shut you down, Emily continues. “So, why did you lie?”

You work your jaw and cross your arms, refusing to answer.

With a small tilt of her head, Emily nods. “Alright, you don’t have to tell me, but you’re going out with us.”

Your heart clenches as your eyes widen. “What? No!”

“You’re disappointing everyone,” she says, and you realize that meant her too. Because if she wanted to separate her feelings, she would have said the team.

“Won’t be the first time,” you point out petulantly.

Emily’s brown eyes squint. “And it won’t be now. You’re part of the team and the team’s going out.” With that declaration, she’s off to your bedroom.

“Hey!” You call out and stalk after her, but she already turned the corner.

By the time you made it into the main bedroom, Prentiss already opened the doors to your closet and was rifling through your minimal ensembles. “Geesh, Whitlock. You’re not giving me much to work with.”

“That’s fine because I think I made it clear I wasn’t going out,” you affirm before sitting on the queen size bed.

The bedroom was white and had hardwood floors like the rest of the condo, filled with basic modern furniture and pictures. Your personal duffel was stuffed under the bed that contained pieces of you and remained hidden. Nothing of importance was in the closet or in plain sight.

“And I think I made it clear you’re coming,” she says pulling out a pair of jeans to toss at you.

You set it aside with a huff. “This is ridiculous.”

“So’s hiding. Oh, this works.” Prentiss had to reach far inside to the back of the rack and finds a dark grey long-sleeved V-neck crisscrossed ribbed fitted top. She turns while taking it off the hanger and tosses it at you. “Get dressed.”

You look up at her with a scowl as you set aside the blouse. “Whatever you think’s gonna happen, regardless if Brian approves, it’s not.”

“Then tell me why not,” she presses and when you don’t respond, Emily comes to sit next to you on the bed. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me what it is you’re scared of. And I swear to god if you cite it’s classified, I’m going to bury you in so much paperwork that you’ll think your first three days with me was a vacation.”

Fuck, you couldn’t help laughing at that. “Well shit. Can’t have that.”

You look to Prentiss and realize that the two of you are almost brushing shoulders with how close you are, but what really caught your attention was the sincerity in her eyes. She was pushing this because she cared. Emily said it herself; you are part of the team, and she cares deeply for the team. This was quite the shift since those tenuous first days when you were seen as a threat.

She saw you as a member of the team. It was a bit of a mind fuck to wrap your head around that truth.

You think back to the last time someone took this much interest in your well-being and you had one answer. Brian Korogoth saving your ass at twelve years old and that was a long fucking time ago for someone to give a shit about you that wasn’t just in the best interest of your country or as a CIA asset. Your three brothers and sister were thrusted together under similar circumstances and became a found family because you needed each other to succeed with Brian being the strong, caring hand that guided you all to be better people.

Prentiss didn’t have to do shit and went above and beyond to track your ass down just for a social night with the team. There was nothing in it for her except for your well-being.

You lower your head and stare blankly at your lap because your eyes threatened to tear up with a surge of affection that came over you. “You may find this shocking, but I really suck at being part of a group.”

She leans forward a little to try and catch your gaze, but you wouldn’t look up. “I don’t find that surprising at all.”

Your brow furrows and in one blink, are side eyeing her. “Why?”

Prentiss fans her hands out as she speaks. “Well, you being a not not spy comes with a lot of loneliness and awkwardness. You get wrapped up in everything that you’re supposed to be and forget what it means to be you.”

Oh, if Emily only knew it went far deeper than that, though she wasn’t entirely wrong. She understood the pressure of undercover assignments where you never knew if a subtle fuck up would mean your death. “Not completely untrue, but not the entire picture either.”

“Fill it in for me. What am I missing?” she urges gently.

You blow out a strong breath between your lips while rubbing the palms of your hands along your bare thighs. You are displaying how vulnerable you are, but you blame Brian for putting you in this position. “What did he tell you. Brian.”

“Where you live an-.”

Your only focus is what she said first. “No one is supposed to know where I am. So, why’d he tell you?”

She purses her lips and shrugs. “Because I presented an important case.”

“Which was?” you ask warily.

“That you needed to take better care of yourself.”

Fuck it all, that’s what Brian wants too.

Great.

“Helps that I can flex my section chief credentials to get clearance,” she adds casually which made you blanch.

You look at her in a panic and had to stop from grabbing her shoulders to shake the truth from her. “What does that mean exactly?”

Prentiss straightens her posture and was about to intercept your hands but settles back onto the bed, seeing the unbridled panic in your eyes. “Hey,” she says your name soothingly, “just on the list to know where you live. Nothing more. I wouldn’t go behind your back like that. Neither would Korogoth.”

Your shaky breathing slowly calms, and your hands find a place in your lap and behind where Prentiss was sitting. “Oh, okay. Yeah.”

She looks at you curiously. “Is this about what happened with the AWOL situation?”

You laugh humorlessly. “If only.”

That made her brows raise with some concern. “There’s more?”

You shake your head. “No, nothing like that.” Then wince. “Not exactly. It’s… fuck …” You bring your hands up to rub your face and grumble. “Uhrr!”

“Okay, I get it,” Prentiss backs off knowing that the burgeoning trust that is going on between you was about to snap. “Don’t need to answer, but please let me tell you that Korogoth also confirmed what you told me a few weeks ago.”

You managed to peek through your fingers with one eye.

“He confirmed everything you said without my asking for it. And that your stipend isn’t from the AWOL mess. That you earned it as a long standing, and decorated, agent of the CIA.” she assures. “Since he cleared me enough to get your address, he wanted to make sure I knew how incredible of an agent you are despite the whole ….” She brings her hands up and gestures wildly, “… mystery surrounding you. But to be fair? I’m well aware of it now too.”

You bring your hands down. “He said that, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“And you really think that of me?”

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Huh. Okay.” You nod, making a decision.

“Okay?” she slowly rests her arms on her legs, waiting for clarification.

“Yeah,” you give her a timid smile. “I’ll go.”

Emily’s grin spreads brightly across her face as she reaches for your arm. “Great. I’ll let the girls know.”

“No, don’t,” you say, stopping her from reaching for her phone. The accidental brush of your fingers sends a rush of heat through you, and you drop your hand.

“I’m confused. Why not?” she asks, curling her hand away hiding the similar effect it had on her.

You grin. “Let’s surprise them.”

@unkonw00 @ara-a-bird @rayisaknight @sevyscoven @maybe-a-humanbean @unoreverselu

Let me know if you would like to be tagged as well. Thank you for reading!

[ink-and-dagger]

Hi Legacy, thank you for your comment and for your compliment about my writing. Unfortunately, Tumblr wouldn’t let me leave this response to your comment under the fic, so I am having to add it onto your reblog. Something I really, genuinely, did not want to have to do.

I hear what you are saying, and am in full agreement with you - tags play a vital role in reader protection, and there’s nothing more frustrating (and in some cases dangerous) than people misusing them.

However, a few words now in my own defence.

I am not new here. I have been writing and posting Silco fics since Arcane first aired back in 2021. It seems more likely in this case that you are new if not to the Arcane fandom then to my blog/writing specifically - so allow me to provide a bit of context which may help, because I don’t believe this case is as cut-and-dry as you believe it to be. I began posting my multi-chapter Silco x Reader fic Drink With Me in January 2022, and updated regularly until its completion in July of that same year. I was extremely lucky in that my story gained a lot of traction and interaction within the fandom throughout that time. People became extremely invested in the Reader character, and would ask me all sorts of questions about her. That’s how Astrid was born. She became a point of reference outside the fic for those who wanted someone to visualise, whilst the fic itself remained strictly a Reader Insert. In the few years since this story wrapped up, my followers have remained invested in the ‘Drink With Me’ universe (again, I’m incredibly lucky and thankful for this), and to this day I receive tons of requests for bonus content set within this universe that I try to fulfil whenever I can. Despite these ficlets being connected to a main multi-chapter fic, most of them can easily be read as a standalone and do not require the context or any prior knowledge of the main fic to make sense. Additionally, as I did with the main fic, they are always written in 2nd person, the character is never referred to by name, and I never use any physical descriptors beyond anatomical ones during smut. If you were to take away any and all tags and look purely at the text alone, it reads as a traditional reader insert, which is why I tag it as such. I include the ‘Astrid’ and ‘OC’ tags for those people who are familiar with the DWM fic and universe and who specifically follow me for this reason, so that they know in their minds that the ficlet relates to the world/timeline of Drink With Me in some way shape or form. I think the point I’m trying to make is that those who are familiar with me and my work will see the ‘Astrid/OC’ tag and go “Ah cool it’s this universe”. Whereas for everyone else I add the ‘can be read as gen!reader insert’ note at the top so that they can go “Ah cool, let me just ignore that character tag then” and happily read it as a general reader insert fic perfectly fine. I hope that makes a bit more sense as to why I tag this way, why I’ve always tagged this way, and why I will continue to tag this way for my Drink With Me adjacent works. If I ever were to write something in 1st or 3rd person or that described the MC in a very specific way, then I would of course not tag that as a reader fic.

Now, so long as we’re here discussing fandom etiquette, I’d like to politely point out that adding your grievance onto the reblog of a specific fic is not a ‘gentle reminder’ - it’s a full-frontal attack on the author who wrote that fic. It would have been far better for you to create your own, separate post addressing the fandom as a whole, or to send me a quiet, private comment/DM on the side.

As I’ve already said, I empathise with your point of view, and I hope you are able to empathise with mine. If the way I choose to tag my work bothers you, then please feel free to block my account so that I don’t show up whilst you are searching for content. At the end of the day we are all individual humans - you cannot expect everyone to interpret/measure/categorise everything in the same way you would, and it’s imperative to take some measure of responsibility for cultivating your own online space, instead of relying on others to do it for you.

What if Astrid find a pic of young Silco by accident hehhehehehhehehehehhe

Snapshot

A Drink With Me ficlet

870 words || Established relationship || Silco x Astrid (but can be read as gen f!reader) || SFW but suggestive || MDNI

“Oh my Gods.”

“What?”

“Oh. My Gods.”

Time has stripped the photograph between your fingers of its glossy sheen and has left the edges blunt and frayed, but you would recognise those features anywhere; no less sharp nor striking through the faded sepia.

“This is you.”

It had slipped from between two ledgers as you’d perused Silco’s bookshelves – an activity more to entertain your idle hands than a genuine search for reading material. The image itself is simple and candid: A young man, seemingly oblivious to the fact his portrait is being taken, sat at a familiar bar, with eyes downcast toward a spread of papers.

That same man looks up at you now from a very similar spread of papers. “What is?”

“This.” You drift over to his desk and perch on its edge, all the while unable to tear your gaze from the photo in your hands. The pitch dark hair swept back into a low bun. The familiar strays – the same ones that even now will always be the first to escape any styling under the combing of agitated fingers – falling forward into his face, only far longer and thicker than you’re used to. His skin, unblemished and smooth, save for the chronic furrow between his brows – etched there long before time and tragedy ravaged the rest.

Silco hums absently; an indication that he acknowledges your discovery but finds little interest in it. You can imagine the man in the photograph making the exact same noise, were someone to distract him from his paperwork for a reason he deemed benign. You flip the photo over. No date.

“How old are you here?”

Silco exhales through his nose, places his pen down with a pointed clack, and extends his hand wordlessly toward you.

“Hah! Do you think I’m wet behind the ears?” you hold the photograph out of his reach, “You can tell just fine from over there thank you very much.”

He cuts you a scathing glance, before leaning forward in his chair with a foreboding creak to peer more closely at the image. His scarred lips purse slightly in thought.

“Mid–late twenties. I can’t say for certain.”

“You were hot.”

“Were?”

“Were and are,” you coo, reclining backwards over the desk into his space, one elbow pitched on his paperwork to hold your weight whilst you flap the photograph in front of his face, “Can I keep this?”

“For what reason?”

“Dirty ones.”

“Hardly necessary,” Silco says, the very corner of his mouth creasing upwards as he catches your wrist to halt your photo-flapping, “You have access to the real thing.”

“True, true, and you can be sure I’ll continue taking advantage of that.” You grin, shoving your captured, photo-wielding arm a little closer to him in emphasis, “But right now I’m talking about some alone time with this guy.”

Silco scoffs under his breath and releases your wrist. You twist onto your front, weight propped on both elbows as you admire the photograph in your grip. You trace a finger down the slender throat of the man in the photo, over the generous wedge of chest exposed by his open crimson collar.

“D’you think he’d notice me? If I came into that bar?”

“Oh I’m certain he would.”

“Yeah?” You lift your gaze from the man in the photo to the one before you – as equally breathtaking. More so. You catch your lower lip between your teeth. “What line would he use?”

Silco hums, low and thoughtful, leaning forward in his chair, closing in on your space. He picks up his abandoned pen, briefly twirling the implement until it’s poised between his elegant fingers like a cigarette. Nib safely facing his own palm.

“After downing the dregs of his drink for courage... he would have approached you.”

With sensual tenderness, he brushes the barrel of his pen along your cheek, warmed metal against warmer skin. Catching at the curve of your jawline, and tracing over your pulse in a way that makes it fumble a beat.

“Cast his gaze over each of your pretty, pretty features. One by one,” he murmurs, slowly drawing the end of the pen down your jugular, down the slope of your collar bone, to leisurely trail through the cut of your cleavage. The corner of your mouth hooks up. The warmth low in your belly coils a little tighter.

“He would have leaned in close,” Silco whispers, demonstrating just so, “Close enough that you’d almost taste the whiskey on his breath.”

Blunt metal drags a purposeful line up your throat, and your lips part softly as he tilts your face toward his with the barrel of his pen flat and firm beneath your chin.

“And asked you – very nicely – to stop leaning on his paperwork.”

You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek while Silco’s dual eyes sizzle with smug mirth. It’d be unthinkable, really – to forfeit either one for the sake of a matching pair.

You straighten and push off his desk, hips swaying as you saunter over to the bedroom with the photograph in hand.

“Well,” you say, pausing in the threshold and turning to him with a smirk, “If you need us, you know where we’ll be.”

[siriuslywicked]

Tangled Hearts - Chapter One

Pairing: poly!wolfstar x reader

Summary: After years of isolating yourself from old school friends, you find yourself thrown back into their world after an invitation from Lily to celebrate her and James' recent engagement. As you, Sirius, and Remus reconnect, it becomes clear the chemistry between the three of you is as vibrant as it was at Hogwarts. Having been burned before, are you willing to let yourself trust them again?

Tags: drinking, no use of y/n, reader is nicknamed "fluffs," ignoring actual timelines and canon for storytelling reasons, reader is half blood, hidden relationships, wolfstar are closeted babies, ignoring peter bc he gives me the ick, reader is afab, reader wears makeup and can put her hair up

A/N: I am so so excited to be posting this fic. I don't think I've published anything since like 2017, but it has been really fun getting back into writing. I'm open to friendly feedback, ideas for the main story or any extras! I have a couple short extras I might write but please send me your thoughts and ideas! Enjoy!

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You weren’t a stranger to walking home alone on the cold, dark streets of London. Working a demanding Ministry job meant you often left work late. Due to the short distance home you often opted to travel on foot, preferring it to more magical methods of transport. While not unusual, this particular walk left you in low spirits. It was five past seven on a crisp Friday evening, and as the city bustled with life around you, a feeling of loneliness seated itself in your chest at the idea of returning to your empty apartment. 

In the few years since you had left Hogwarts, the state of the Wizarding world—your world—had steadily grown darker. Coming from a half-Muggle, half-wizard household had always left you in a precarious position. You were grateful for your stable position at the Ministry, working in the Muggle Relations Office, it provided a small sense of security. That was one of the things you missed most about being at Hogwarts: the stability. When you were inside the castle walls, it had felt like nothing could harm you. You would always be warm, fed, and surrounded by good company. You often found yourself longing to be back in the Gryffindor common room with your friends, talking late into the night around the fire.

The common room had been replaced by your cozy little flat in London where you lived alone. It was small and in need of renovations, but had unique charms and a homey feel. Your friends had been replaced by a few coworkers who you met occasionally for drinks at the Leaky Cauldron. The sense of security, belonging really,  had been replaced by a near-constant unease and loneliness that seemed to follow you around like a shadow. Occasionally, you’d receive an owl from Lily, updating you on her life with James. They were recently engaged, and you couldn’t be happier for them. You and Lily had been fast friends at Hogwarts. Your mixed magical and Muggle family meant you could understand her, and help her adjust to life at Hogwarts. After being sorted into the same house, the two of you had been inseparable for years, only drifting apart slightly when Lily and James grew closer. Sharing Lily’s attention had been an adjustment, but it had come with a larger friend group, as Lily and James had quickly welcomed you into their circle, introducing you to Sirius and Remus. The five of you had spent your seventh year causing quite the ruckus. Between parties, weekend trips to Hogsmeade, and sneaking through the castle’s many hidden passageways, you had never had a better time at Hogwarts.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Walking up the red brick steps to your flat, you shook yourself free of thoughts of the past and focused on the evening ahead. Unlocking the door with a discreet flick of your wand, you stepped inside and took in the warmth of your small home. Sitting on the kitchen counter was Lily’s most recent letter, informing you of her engagement. With it, she had sent a picture of herself and James, both smiling and waving up at you. Holding the photograph in one hand, you contemplated the contents of the letter. The happy couple would be in London in a couple of hours to grab a pint and celebrate with Sirius and Remus. You had been invited to join, of course, but you found yourself hesitant.

As close as your group had been during seventh year, there was an unmistakable shift in dynamic as Lily and James became closer. It had left you, Remus, and Sirius to your own devices. The three of you had always enjoyed teasing one another, conversations always full of quick wit and laughter. But like so many good friendships, you had gotten too close and ended up burned. Turns out Remus and Sirius didn’t really want to turn their duo into a trio. Outside of a couple of dinners at Lily and James’s, you hadn’t spent any time with the two boys. In fact, now that you thought about it, more than a year had passed since you’d seen any of the old group, aside from Lily. 

As much as the idea of seeing everyone again after so long made you nervous, you knew how important it was to Lily that you made an appearance. For this reason, you found yourself shrugging off your heavy cloak and padding into the bedroom to change. After changing into a burgundy cardigan and your favorite jeans, you fixed your makeup and messy updo with a flick of your wand. Throwing on an overcoat, you prepared yourself to brave the night once again, feeling the familiar flare of anxiety pool in your stomach. It was just a couple of drinks with old friends—what could be so bad about that?

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Trudging along the castle halls back to Gryffindor after a long week of classes hadn’t been easy. You had felt weighed down by exhaustion, impatiently awaiting the moment you could curl up under your covers and say goodbye to the stress of pre-Christmas exams, if only for a few hours. Arriving back at the common room, you found it unusually quiet. Unlike most of Gryffindor House, you had spent the last Friday evening before end-of-term exams in the library, pouring over notes and trying desperately to recall Professor Binns’s most recent lecture. You assumed the younger students were asleep in their dorms, while the older students—your friends included—were almost certainly at the little bash Hufflepuff was throwing to try and outdo the Gryffindor party that would be taking place the following weekend. An impossible feat, but don’t tell that to any of the Puffs.

Climbing the stairs to your dorm, you recalled that you had lent your copy of Advanced Potion Making to Remus, and you would need it to continue studying in the morning. The chances of getting the book back before noon tomorrow seemed slim, so you opted to sneak into the boys’ dorm and fetch it before crashing. No one would be in right now, and it wasn’t like you and Lily hadn’t been in their dorms before. Quickly changing course, you found yourself in front of the boys’ dormitory and cast a quick charm to unlock the door. Slowly stepping inside, you began searching for the textbook near Remus’s things. Taking in the room, you noticed that the curtains around Sirius’s four poster had been drawn completely closed. Odd for a messy dorm. Surely Sirius hadn’t brought a girl back so early in the night—it was only half-past ten. You flushed at the thought and felt your heart rate increase at the idea that he might be behind the curtain with some girl from the party. Sirius was good-looking, no doubt about it, but you wouldn’t reduce yourself to being jealous of whoever his conquest of the night was. You silently thanked the heavens for the existence of silencing charms and hurried your search.

It only took a moment longer for you to spot the potions book among some of Remus’s school clothes. You quickly grabbed the book and made your way to the door, but before you could grab the handle, you heard a great thump and the unmistakable sound of Sirius groaning in pain. Turning to look, you saw Sirius on his back, looking rather disheveled—his curly black locks untidy, cheeks flushed, and the majority of the buttons on his shirt undone. But instead of seeing some sixth-year Hufflepuff girl on top of him, you saw... “Remus?”

“Hello, Fluffs,” he said breathlessly, looking rather sheepish. If you thought Sirius looked flushed, it was nothing compared to the pink staining Remus’s cheeks—not that you were any better off.

“I was just coming to fetch my book… I thought you’d both be off at the party with the others—sorry.” The explanation came out squeaky as you clutched the book to your chest. Both boys stared at you, rooted to the spot, all three of you seemingly at a loss for words. Remus seemed to catch up with himself first, he extracted himself from his position between Sirius’s legs and stood quickly on wobbling legs. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, struggling with how to proceed. 

“The others don’t know. You wouldn’t mind keeping this between the three of us, would you?”

Glancing between his nervous expression and the still red Sirius on the floor, you nodded slowly and took a step back towards the door.

“My lips are sealed. Promise.” You gave a small smile, still blushing, and quickly exited the room.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

A short walk later, you found yourself standing outside the small pub Lily had mentioned in her letter. You felt anxiety settle in the pit of your stomach as you looked down at your watch: eight twenty. You were early—perhaps you would get lucky, and it would just be Lily and James there. Sirius and Remus tended to be just beyond fashionably late. Keeping that thought in mind, you took a deep breath and opened the door.

The pub was dimly lit, and the air was thick with smoke. The bar was full of Muggle patrons watching whatever match happened to be on. Along one wall was a series of round cushioned booths, each outfitted with its own oil lamp and ashtray. Taking in the scene, you spotted two familiar faces. To your great surprise, Sirius and Remus could be seen sitting in one of the booths. Sirius noticed you first, a large grin spreading across his face as his pale eyes met yours. Despite the hammering in your chest, you felt yourself smiling back as your feet carried you towards their booth. Sirius looked as ever—his curly dark hair pulled into a loose bun, his cream button-down hugging his broadened shoulders. Remus gave you a soft smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and as you got closer, he ran a nervous hand through his hair.

“Well, if it isn’t our favorite Fluffs!” Sirius grinned.

He stood and pulled you into an embrace as you reached the booth. Standing on your toes and throwing your arms around his neck in return felt as natural as coming home. His cologne smelled of spice and something woodsy, and it stuck to you as you stepped down and went to take a seat next to Remus.

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting seeing just the two of them again after all this time, but the enthusiastic welcome from Sirius had been enough to settle your nerves. 

“Still calling me Fluffs? I was really hoping that after all these years, the two of you would let me live that down.”

“Don’t be silly, dove,” Remus said with a smirk. “That nickname is going to stick around as long as Pads does.”

You let out a small huff at Remus’s comment. It came as a relief that he felt comfortable enough to tease you alongside Sirius, even if he had seemed apprehensive seeing you again. You relaxed further into the booth as Sirius sat down on Remus’s other side.

“I must say, I’m surprised to see you here before Lily and James. Since when were you two so punctual?”

Sirius smiled into his pint as Remus explained, “We’ve got a flat nearby. Prongs asked us to save a booth.”

Rather than linger on the fact they were living together—and what that implied—you leaned across Remus and asked Sirius if he would fetch you a drink. He obliged with a grin and quickly made his way to the bar.

“It’s good to see you again, love,” Remus said, turning toward you. As you took him in, all deep eyes and silky light-brown hair, you felt yourself flush once again. While Sirius had always brought out the bubbly side of you with his exuberant energy, Remus often gave you butterflies with just a look. Despite the years that had passed, it was clear the pair still affected you like you were seventeen.

No sooner had Sirius returned bearing your drink of choice—because of course he remembered—than the happy couple materialized at the booth. After warm greetings all around, the five of you settled into comfortable conversation with drinks all around. 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It was the first time since Hogwarts that the five of you had had so much fun. A great deal of catching up had been in order, Lily and James gushing over the engagement and wedding plans, Remus and Sirius about their many London adventures, and you about the happenings at the Muggle Relations Office. 

Lily and James were seated on one side of the booth, and somewhere between round two and three, you had ended up squished between Remus and Sirius on the other.

“Did the boys tell you about their flat?” Lily piped up across the table. “It’s just around the corner. Real nice place too! What with two boys living there and all…” She trailed off with a giggle.

So, if it was common knowledge they were living together, did that mean—

“Ultimate bachelor’s pad if you ask me! They’ve even got Muggle foosball all enchanted. The little players have got a mind of their own at this point,” James chimed in.

Apparently not. 

Not dwelling on the fact Lily and James were still in the dark about certain aspects of their friends' relationship, you quickly downed the rest of your drink. Head feeling fuzzy and cheeks radiating heat, you focused your eyes to look at Lily. She gave you a wide smile before grabbing James’s arm and announcing to the group that it was past her bedtime, prompting the group to finish their drinks as well. You all stood and staggered out onto the street, you yourself stumbling slightly and gripping onto the table to help you stand. After Lily and James had said their goodbyes, Lily giving you a tight hug, Remus and Sirius turned to you.

“How are you planning on getting home, dove? Please don’t tell me you’re thinking of disapparating in this state,” Remus teased, clearly amused at how tipsy you’d gotten after just a few pints.

He had a point. You didn’t have a good way to get home besides walking, but it was rather late for that. The other option was casting a sobering charm on yourself, but that just sounded plain unpleasant. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Suppose I could always take the night bus,” you giggled, feeling a little silly for your lack of forethought.

Sirius shook his head before you had even finished your sentence. “Don’t be ridiculous, Fluffs! You can tag along with me and Moony, crash at ours, yeah?”

“Yeah?” you said hesitantly, your eyes darting between the two tall boys. The last thing you wanted was to put them out right after reconnecting had gone so well.

Remus nodded his agreement without hesitation. “Perfect idea, Pads. We’ve got an extra blanket and everything. Don’t you worry, love.”

And so, you found yourself arm-in-arm with Remus and Sirius, walking down the streets of London toward their flat. Correction: street. Lily hadn’t been kidding when she said it was around the corner. During the short walk, you couldn’t help but feel like you were exactly where you ought to be. Something about being back with Remus and Sirius felt so unbelievably right that it made you giddy.

As you rose the steps with Remus’s help, the last drink from the pub hit your system, and you felt yourself lean into him ever so slightly more. Once inside, he laid you down on the couch with the promise of a blanket and a couple of pillows that felt cool on your flushed cheeks. Remus pulled off your boots, and you could hear Sirius talking animatedly to him from what you imagined was the kitchen. You let your eyes slip closed as you settled into the couch, feeling warm and sleepy. The boys' voices became more hushed, and you heard footsteps indicating they were walking toward the couch.

“Dove?” Remus’s soft voice prompted you to peek your eyes open.

“Mmm?”

“Just wanted to say goodnight, darling,” he explained, his hand rubbing soft circles on your arm.

“Night, Moons. Night, Pads,” you murmured, looking at the pair of them and smiling.

“Goodnight, our darling Fluffs,” Sirius replied, smiling brightly.

You let your eyes fall closed once more, drifting off to the sound of hushed whispers and a door closing down the hall.

[doshiart]

🖤 ART TAG 🖤

Hey to all artists! I want to talk about our art journey. Some of us have a long path, some have started only recently, but each of us has had our own individual path and I think it's really important to remember how we all started. And it's also important to share it with others so that no one would be scared to start their own journey and just create.

How did you start drawing? What year was it that you become more seriously and consciously interested in it?

As everyone I'll say I've been drawing since early childhood, but I think the end of 2019 is my beginning. Because that's the time I started to practice actively.

When you felt the urge to share your art with other people? When did you start posting your drawings on social media?

Maybe it's always been? I think for the first time I posted something traditional drawn on my personal social media. I started my art socials in 2020.

Your first/earliest drawing. What were your impressions of it back then and what are your feelings now?

It's hard to track my very first drawing, but here are the early traditional drawings and my very first digital hand drawing. It was before I got a tablet, so it was drawn with a mouse. My impressions? My hand was tired... But if seriously back then it looked like something cool to me and I was surprised that I could draw something like that. Now, of course, I can see all my mistakes. But let's be honest, any mistake is a move forward.

🚧 ALARM 🚧

My very first attempts after getting a tablet.

Should I mention that I was upset at the first second that it didn't work out on the first try?

Your first fanart ever

I had a lot of traditional drawings of Adventure Time (I'm a big fan of Marceline). It's roughly a little over a decade ago.

But in digital, I guess this? Snufkin and The Groke from Moomin stories. [aug 8, 2020]

Your first gallavich fanart

Hi babies! This post and this post.

[nov 27, 2023] - oh my god it's almost a year???

But what if I told you that my sister asked me to draw Cameron Monaghan… Who knew that ten years later I'd be drawing him once again...

When you had bad days and things didn't work out, what inspired you to keep trying?

I just need to rest, try again, or think about what exactly goes wrong. When I started my path as a digital artist I was very inspired by the older work by 'big artists'. No one is perfect at the first moment and there is always a long road of striving and practice behind cool works. And I knew that the more I tried, the more I could consider myself 'cool' too. (spoiler: that feeling is still with me)

Show your old piece that you strongly dislike and tell why.

It's a hard choice. I stopped liking a lot of my work after a time, but this one was initially a struggle. I really didn't like how it looked in the end. I wasn't able to draw it as I wanted, and had problems with the face and dynamics. But the background is cool! (A lot of the work you don't like has some good in it!)

Renee and Andrew from AFTG [dec 5, 2021]

Show your old piece that you very like and tell why. What's the difference with the previous?

I love the shading and the face, especially eyes. And i still love this drawing! Face looks better than previous and hair has a dynamic, and the expression is really good.

Buck Toothsome from School for vampires [nov 8, 2021]

Show your old piece that you were very proud of back then.

I really loved this study redraw!

Ginny with Marcus from Ginny & Georgia [june 22, 2021]

Do you do any practice sketches or warm-ups before you draw something big?

I've started to do it recently! I'd forgotten how many sketches I made in sketchbooks when I was studying drawing.

I tried to change the pen pressure.

Sketch vs Final. Show your process.

Actually, it's been a tough process.

Your most recent drawing.

I'm working on my secret santa's gift right now, so I can't share it 🤭But here's my last sketch during warm-up session 🤲🖤

Give yourself some praise! Look at what improved in your art!

I just want to say that four years ago I would've been shocked by my current drawings. I've really improved in drawing faces and anatomy, I'm trying new interesting composition, trying to learn new things and use it in my works.

Any advice you'd give to your earlier self?

Do more thinking while creating your art. Do a sketches warm-ups before digging into the big work. Don't be afraid to draw it again if something doesn't work. Take breaks to physically exercise!

Set a goal for yourself for the coming year.

I want to improve facial expressions. Make a professional portfolio. Keep growing and enjoying drawing.

I want to see more your drawings...

@deathclassic @suzy-queued @kiennilove @gallapiech @spookygingerr

@konaiiro @michellemisfit @heymrspatel @vintagelacerosette @sgtmickeyslaughter

@burninface @lingy910y @crossmydna @deedala

[anomalymon]

I did do a bit of research into subpersonalities and I'll admit I'm not an expert, but what's described here seems different to me. What I saw about subpersonalities they don't seem to have that level of identity to actually be different species or fictional characters like I saw. When I looked into genders I couldn't find anything about them being able to be different genders either besides in a sort of metaphorical way.

This seems a lot closer to median systems (other source with some better clarification) from how I've seen it described in polymind resources vs. how I've seen it described in subpersonalities, actually to the point polymind seems to unintentionally have borrowed a term structure from it with -ling. While it might not be, I think that's where I and most other systems see the similarities.

I think active as a parallel to fronting, at least for me, is because of how there's terms in the carrd for active, co-active, and activestuck, which seem like they're meant to parallel front. The same goes for swap and swappy being just switch and switchy.

Also for me at least I was getting my information from the wiki that I saw linked and I assumed the Carrds that kept being cited were either created by the coiner or created with the coiner's feedback. The Carrds aren't reliable, I know this one has straight up misinformation, but I was taking them as something reflective of the community and community terminology since it was cited on the wiki. I understand if that's not the case but that's why I referenced it.

Either way if it's genuinely not plurality, I'd say a good way to beat those allegations would be to write about your experiences. Especially with posts in the tag furthering that misinformation, like calling it a "less harmful alternative to endos" (it's not an alternative if that's not what it is in the first place, since endogenic systems are separate individuals, not personalities and not really anything close to subpersonalities).

I think a lot of people would be interested in reading any essays you'd write on your experiences too. The alterhuman community especially is big into that, and I'd love to read it myself too. A lot of communities got their start with people just writing and sharing their experiences. If you try to make the whole term structure before others know your experiences and vice versa, that's how misunderstandings can happen.

It's worth mentioning too that there are system and plural community resources that might still be applicable to you, and there's nothing wrong with using or reading these if you aren't of these experiences or don't identify as such. I'd highly recommend Healthy Multiplicity as a starting point since it's a long time link collection and has a lot of relevant articles. I'd also recommend learning what plurality and systems actually are, since that might give you more insight into how your experience compares and differs.

(Also re: little, I know it's an age regression term but little and ageling as far as that glossary goes seemed redundant to me, hence why I included it, but admittedly that was done without thinking)

Polymind is a bit fascinating because it ends up unintentionally showing why system terminology ends up not being exclusive to any one specific group.

Like when you try to describe plural experiences in a way that tries not to use an existing plural definitions, it shows a lot more blatantly that at its core we do all have the same experience of being more than one. Any term you make has a high chance of applying to the other group.

Then when you get into the terminology needed to actually describe those experiences, you find you kind of need most of the shared terminology otherwise you need to recreate the whole damn lexicon.

Like the reason terms get shared is more like "We have DID need a fast and easy way to describe fictional alters. Oh, soulbonders have a lot of terminology for this already that fits what we need, we'll start using fictive and source."

Or "We're a non-disordered system and need a way to describe one headmate taking over. Oh, medically there's switching and front, that's a fast and simple way to describe it."

And like a lot of subcultures online are like that and when you try to fight it you end up with complicated and not very practical terms. Especially when there's terms that have been used for over 30 goddamn years that are simpler and easier to use.

Hell even trying not to use any existing plural terminology, Polymind ended taking a lot of them unintentionally (i.e. part, ageling, little, protector).

It also highlights an issue where unless you do deeper introspection, which is not always practical for... obvious reasons, you probably won't know exactly what you fall under. Expecting people to look in depth trauma history to figure out what terminology they're allowed to use is despicable.

Also that the problem is at its core that people don't think we should exist at all and that the terminology stink ends up being more of a way to make harassment and fakeclaiming seem "justified" and also a method of erasing history and separating systems from resources/making them harder to find but eh

[lucabyte]

Different standards

[deoidesign]

[luck-of-the-drawings]

so REVENGE, HUH? or justice, if that makes you feel better. it tastes the same when cooked just right. 'I REALLY WANTED A BROTHER.' such a shame to burn a bridge you so desperately wanted to keep, especially when it wasnt even you who started the fire. especially when you hope that not a single fragment of that bridge ever washes ashore.[MAY IT ROT FAR FROM MY SIGHTS] an unfortunate loss! atleast he has his friends.

[azaracyy]

a lesson on good karma digimon survive week 2024 day 4: supporting characters

[they-didnt-last]

anyone interested in talking about the iconic 2000's middle-grade-bordering-on-ya book series gallagher girls??

[kikuism]

so i've been curious about this for a while, something i've noticed is how you're either biased for one or the other group. you might care for both but your main interest lies in one.

[jieas]

thanks for the tag kyo !! ah how cute

im jea and i mainly spend my free time reading, writing, baking, or sleeping

i got into reading cuz a friend of mine was really into a book series/collection when we were younger, i was curious about why she liked it so much & started reading the books with her so we could talk about them together & eventually got into fanfiction during the pandemic. writing i got into also around the pandemic just to pass time since it was so boring. started baking since my mom was super into it & i got into it too

i don't think anything i've read or watched have left a big impression on me but i remember the movie a dogs purpose being the first movie to make me really cry & i've honestly never been the same after watching it all those years ago. as for books, i'd have to say city of ghosts by victoria schwab. it was the first paranormal novel i read, an introduction to a genre far different from the historical(?) fiction i was used to reading around that time

my music taste tends to change a lot and often, covering plenty of different genres, but currently i'm really into r&b & hip-hop/rap, especially japanese rap

my current favorite character would probably be hiragi from wind breaker, the bridge fight... yeah i still think about it constantly. also, the way he cares about others so much is just so cute to me. as for all time fav i'd say... deadpool, even if it's a little basic. i've been a fan of his character for as long as i can remember, even before i really knew him or watched any of the films. now, it's mainly cuz of his energy & flamboyance plus a hint of childhood nostalgia from seeing his little chibi face everywhere. there's more apart from those two but i just can't think of reasons why so

open tags !!

tag + q&a game ₊˚ෆ

hello! i thought it would be cute and exciting to do a tag game with all my mutuals to not only talk about themselves, but have fun! so here is my short little game:

alongside this picrew, share 5 things about yourself!

• how do you spend your free time? • what are your hobbies and how did you get into them? • what book or movie left a lasting impression on you? • what kind of music do you enjoy? • who is your favorite character (atm or all time) and why?

i will start first!

my name is rurumi and i enjoy spending my free time writing!

some of my hobbies (outside of writing) includes: drawing, building gundams and keyboards, and fashion! i got into most of them on a whim and became instantly hooked. aside from self-expression, being into fashion also helps with making friends in college because you always have something to talk about!

a book that left a lasting impression on me would have to be either kafka on the shore by haruki murakami or before the coffee gets cold by toshikazu kawaguchi. both stories have kept me up at night thinking a lot about the 'what ifs' in life.

i enjoy soul/r&b alongside anything of jrock influence, but i will basically listen to anything that sounds good. i am currently listening to 'so what' by lucy!

my favorite character at the moment is rin itoshi from blue lock because hes so ridiculously edgy, but at the same time i sympathize with him a lot. on the other hand, my favorite character of all time is suletta mecury from the witch from mercury series, she's an absolute ball of sunshine that i aspire to be.

tagging (+ no pressure) ₊˚ෆ

@kaiser1ns @naenaex0xx @shomatoriashi @choccorin @ryescapades

@rindreamery @soleillunne @kissxcore @rainswept @mitsvriii

anyone can join as well <3

[anghraine]

My best friend and I moved in together with his closest friend from his MA program, and while I had met her before (the friend; my bff is a man), we hadn't spent much time together because I've never lived away from the West Coast (and only two years out of the PNW) and she's never lived outside of North Carolina and only briefly visited the PNW once, when she went to Portland last year.

It's been a delight to show her around the PNW and realize we need to explain things that are just sort of omnipresent in our lives. The bff and I were casually griping with each other about having to run an errand to Trader Joe's at an inconvenient hour, and were telling her, "it's okay, you can stay in the car and avoid the people if you want" and she was like "NO I MUST SEE IT, I'VE ONLY HEARD OF THEM" and nearly ascended to another plane when we showed her around the store.

The bff and I grew up in the same town in NW Washington (him for his first 18 years, me from 9 to 19) and he lived in Bellingham and Seattle for years before he went to NC for grad school (I went to the SF Bay Area for mine, a very different experience). Both of them are hardcore coffee aficionados, but he struggled with the different Coffee Ways of the South, so for the true PNW experience they want to tour various indie coffeeshops next.

Also, she adores Kaidan in Mass Effect and we were like, oh, is your passport up to date? We could take a trip sometime and show you your boyfriend's beloved English Bay. It's very beautiful :)

her: O_O

me: Actually, it's worth going to Vancouver BC for its own sake as well, it's truly spectacular. We used to go all the time as kids.

bff: And Victoria!

her: O_O