#also driving terrifies me and part of that is driving has always made me nervous bc Operating Big Machine big Responsibility AAAAHHHH

[spacesapphi]

MOREEEE HES TRIO HEADCANONS

There's some. There's some sad ones in here, sorry. Warnings for mentions of death, neglect, and bullying

HCs below the cut

Elliott

- LOVES cats sm, has a little tabby named Mr. Darcy who he adores more than anything. Sometimes it'll knock over his inkwells or bat at his quills but he doesn't seem to mind

- He's the youngest of five kids and kind of the black sheep of the family. Rarely got attention besides teasing over his interests growing up, and used books to cope with it

- Doesn't really make eye contact, it makes him really nervous

- he actually briefly knew Harvey as a child and they were each other's only friend. Harvey moved away about 3 years after they met and they finally reunited in Pelican Town

- He can draw, but writing is much preferred

- Wrote letters to Harvey after he moved. When he was in highschool his dad got to the mail before him, read a new letter, and forbid him from communicating with Harvey again with no explanation. Elliott was devastated

- Went to college for writing and literature! He was able to publish his first book because he got a very good letter of recommendation from his professors for his work. The money he earned from it helped him get out of his town and away from his family

- Pelican Town has made him feel the most peaceful he's ever felt in his life. The cabin gets lonely, but he's happy and he cant imagine himself anywhere else

Harvey

- His dad was a military medic and unfortunately died while stationed when Harvey was a baby. His grandpa moved in to help raise him, and as mentioned in the previous HCs, was responsible for his interest in being a pilot

- He likes wearing headphones in public to block out loud noises, but gets too shy to do so often because he thinks it'll draw attention to him

- had a secret clubhouse he and Elliott used as a kid (literally just an abandoned garage where they kept a bunch of their stuff) but it meant a lot to them. It was a place to get away from the bullying they faced

- was incredibly short all his life until he got a crazy growth spurt in highschool and wound up being 6'2

- says shit like "good golly!" And "cheese and crackers!"

- he's a nerd, this man does not take his whiskey neat and bed at 3

- HES THE ONE THATS TOO SWEET

- Wrote letters to Elliott a lot after he moved. They stopped when the two of them were in highschool. Harvey sent a letter confessing he had a crush and never got one back, so he thought he did something wrong until he met Elliott again

- his mother is a huge ally and comforted him a lot after that incident. She loves her son so much :(

- He has really bad asthma

Shane

- much of what Jas has is a hand-me-down she got from Shane. All the toys, clothes, and stuff like that are from his childhood before he came out. They're a bit outdated, but Shane and Marnie can't always afford brand new things for her

- He went to college on a gridball scholarship, but studied in Visual Arts. The camera he has in his 7.5 heart event is one he used to make short films for classes.

- Came out to Marnie as trans at 12 and was terrified to do so. She was really accepting and sweet though! He let her be a big part of the new name process too :)

- Jas's parents were also in those classes and the three of them often worked on projects together. It's how they became best friends! He still has all the reels of little films they made, and watches some of them with Jas when they're really missing her parents

- Clint has a one-sided beef with him since Shane is Emily's best friend and ex. He views him as competition for some reason and acts weird about it. Shane has absolutely no clue why and just thinks he's weird

- He got really good at styling hair after he took in Jas. She likes just having her hair in two pigtails mostly but he can do some fun styles!

- Has a lot of health issues post recovery because of how heavy his drinking was. He's sick fairly often and it's frustrating for him

- Driving and being in a car makes him anxious, he prefers to either walk or bike if he can help it

- Let's his hair start growing out after he starts recovery. He gets it to a nice medium length. Tried to go for a mullet but Emily begged him to cut it 😭

- He does NOT like Lewis at all because of how he treats Marnie and he has to restrain himself to act civil, for his his aunts sake

[prince-simon]

GET TO KNOW ME🤩

thank u for tagging me @toffeelemon i love you i adore you

do you make your bed?

ever since i moved from the basement back upstairs i do bc i took my new bedroom very seriously as just a place for sleeping/getting rest and i read somewhere that if you make your bed you'll have a more organized day ahead of you and i could really need that for my adhd brain lmfao (idk if it actually helps but it has become a habit now lol)

what's your favorite number?

i'm not sure??? i could say 28 bc it's my bday maybe and it just feels like a nice round number??? or maybe 15 bc 15 feels like a green number??? and green is my fave colour so ksjfdkjf

what is your job?

i work in elderly care for the most part for now but i'm also in uni for social work so once a week i work in a youth centre and ideally that's what i'll be doing when i'm done with uni

if you could go back to school, would you?

still there so. skdksd last semester i had the ridiculous idea to get a phd eventually for the gender neutral title but also bc i gave a couple presentations on queerness and i actually quite enjoyed educating people (after all the anxiety beforehand lmao)

can you parallel park?

i did it once successfully during my driving test thirteen years ago. never again though lmao. i'd rather walk farther than get a closer parallel parking spot lmfao

a job you had that would surprise people?

i don't even remember anymore when that was but i think it was kinda like a job over the holidays so very temporary. i must've still been in high school. basically for one week i worked in a real estate office as an assistant and they just needed me for taking phone calls and stuff which is like my biggest nightmare. and basically i was working there for nine hours a day, occasionally taking calls and the other times going through the exposés for their real estate and correcting spelling and grammar mistakes in them just to kill time bc it was so fucking boring lmaooo honestly thinking about it now feels like a fever dream

do you think aliens are real?

obviously. the only reason humans haven't found them yet is a) they don't want to be found or b) our definition of "life forms" doesn't fit into what these "aliens" are

can you drive a manual car?

course. learned in one, driving one now. like if you learn how to drive a manual car you can drive any car basically so it's perfect really

what's your guilty pleasure?

probably hate watching movies and tv shows lmaooo like. i start them, hate it but then i have to continue bc i just need to know how it ends y'know? sksksk

tattoos?

just two currently - "don't let me go" (iykyk) on my shoulder blade and a rose on my wrist

it's been literally 10 years since i got them both so it's about time i get a new one ahahaha (i've got plenty of ideas but not enough time or money lol)

favorite color?

green. bc it's a gay colour sksksk dark greens, pastel greens, all the greens

favorite type of music?

i like the kind of music that makes you wistful, like you're sitting in a forest somewhere and pondering life and everything you've lost and everything that's yet to come, y'know?

do you like puzzles?

i don't think i have much of an opinion on them lol i remember when i was a child we had a 3D puzzle of castle neuschwanstein (i think) that was pretty dope

any phobias?

i am TERRIFIED of (dead) mice lol our cat (jake, may he rest in peace) used to bring them home all the time and i had several nervous breakdowns over it over the years

favorite childhood sport?

i never did any lol except for what we had to do in school and the teachers always treated me like shit so i hated it even more

they almost made me hate swimming too but i still love water. wouldn't call it sport though bc i enjoy floating around the most lol

do you talk to yourself?

occasionally yeah. funnily enough it's always in english

what movies do you adore?

suddenly i don't know any movies anymore. uuuuuhhh oh! mamma mia! it's just such a good time. letters to juliet.... i'm noticing a theme here. but can you blame me??? amanda seyfried??? hello??? anything with dylan o'brien tbh. and logan lerman lol

coffee or tea?

coffee only if it's iced and sweet and (plant) milky. tea. yes.

first thing you wanted to be growing up?

a painter. idk if this is only a german thing but we always had these friendship books going around in classes and among friends that were actually a little bit like these tag games. and there would always be the question of "what do you wanna be when you grow up" and bc one of my grandmas (the one i don't even like all that much anymore now kssksk) was always big into painting i just always wanted to become a painter

tagging @sterek-unhinged @aro-of-artemis @wonjungjae @omaremioo

GET TO KNOW ME🤩

thank u for tagging me @skibasyndrome 🫶🏼

do you make your bed?

not ever since i read somewhere that leaving your sheets uncovered is actually good for airing it out and reducing lice risk sksk (excuses). i would if i’m a guest / at my parents’ though

what's your favourite number?

0 is pretty neat

what is your job?

an architect - in training sksksk (for the past SEVEN years but any day now guys) would very rarely self describe as a MuLtiDisCiPLinArY artist/writer/researcher if i’m feeling like a wanker or trying to impress wankers

if you could go back to school, would you?

constantly entertaining the idea of a useless phd sksks - mostly for the gender neutral title and the most distance from capitalism to be honest

can you parallel park?

no. i can only shuffle in if it’s a space for 2 cars sksk i literally used to circle the block endlessly when waiting for family to grocery shop instead of parking if there’s no 2 spaces for me to pull into

a job you had that would surprise people?

i’m not sure i have anything surprising. i sold car magazines at a book fair and i will not elaborate.

do you think aliens are real?

yes. and they’re purposefully not making themselves known to humans because they don’t wanna touch this clusterfuck with a ten feet pole

can you drive a manual car?

never ❤️ city gay refusing to drive forever😗✌🏼

what's your guilty pleasure?

pimple popping videos or in general mildly gross “satisfying” videos sksksk. i would binge until i get sick and delete them from my history so i don’t have to see any more suggested once i got my fill

tattoos?

2! 🦈🪼

favorite color?

pink and blue. i like most pinks, like them less the more purple they get, i like pastel blues and navy blues but the bright saturated ones in between not as much

favorite type of music?

i’m a pop girlie through and through - almost exclusively listen to queer and/or poc artists now. i like hyperpop, pop punk, indie pop

do you like puzzles?

i used to do so much with my mum and got pretty insane over it (like 1000 pieces sets) but not as much now

any phobias?

hmm i don’t have much Irrational fear - one would be i Hate the idea of having my back exposed i always have to sleep with my back to the wall

favorite childhood sport?

Loathe sports. i loved ice skating and it’s one of the few things i quit against my will and in another life i would’ve been a figure skater

do you talk to yourself?

ever since i’m not living with any family i need to check whether i still speak my mother tongue every now and then sksk

what movies do you adore?

i keep going back to ghibli films. my absolute favourite is howl’s moving castle

coffee or tea?

i don’t drink coffee.

first thing you wanted to be growing up?

studio ghibli animator🥹 also wanted to write full time. play orchestral percussion full time

tagging @prince-simon @cloudywilmon @ungaroyals @aro-of-artemis @angelbabysimon @tooindecisivetopickaurl

[whomturgled]

tungblr user @infaguation is problematic bc he sent me some shit about ronald mcdonald kin and is too far away for me to shove in a locker as retribution OR watch twilight with :^///////

[butwhyduh]

Fit to be Tied

Jason Todd x reader

Warning: Christmas? And the f word.

Christmas series 2

Jason didn’t pay much attention to holidays. Nope. That was for the living. He didn’t have much of need for it. But he did know that Christmas was quiet and New Years was busy for patrol. He guessed everyone ate Christmas dinner and and then got bored of playing nice. Or maybe that just wanted to start the new year with a big ass bang. Who knows?

Even when he was a kid, he didn’t celebrate the holidays. Too poor, mom too lost in drugs, and dad? Well fuck him. He was a piece of shit when he was around.

Jason kicked a beer can out of his way into the pile of trash on the sidewalk. They didn’t get the trash again this week it looked like. Daddy Bruce could play bat but couldn’t throw his money around enough to keep trash from piling on the street.

It was fine. He had more important things to do anyways. He had to buy a Christmas present. He didn’t care for the holidays but the sweet girl he had at home was a doll and fuck, if she didn’t deserve something. So Jason went down to the local pawn shop. Usually not a problem but it was 2 AM. Not exactly prime business hours.

So yes, Red Hood was breaking into a pawn shop to get a bracelet. He was leaving cash, $20 over the cost too. It was something you had seen earlier in the week and had admired. Gems of some kind shaped to look like a butterfly. You’d taken a minute longer to stare at it.

He left as quick as he came. And it wasn’t long until he was opening the window of your apartment dressed in street clothes. You were asleep. Jason had used the excuse of patrol to get out. But in the early morning hours of Christmas, he wanted to wake you.

“Princess,” he said gently. You moved a little before opening your eyes. You smiled up at him. Fuck, he didn’t deserve the way you looked at him. Your eyes looked so innocent and sweet. You never looked at him like he scared you.

“Jaybird, what’s going on?”

“I got you something for Christmas and it’s technically Christmas..” he said pulling out the box. You sat up, curious.

“It’s Christmas Eve. You got me something? I didn’t think we were- I didn’t get anything. I couldn’t-“ you said turning red. Money was too tight to consider it. The fact that the heat was still on this late in the month was a Christmas miracle.

“No no. It’s fine. Just being here is enough for me. I’ve never really celebrated Christmas anyways,” Jason said pushing the box in your hand. You held the box before kissing him.

You opened the box to see the bracelet you had been looking at the pawn shop. You smiled and stared at the pretty little butterfly. Jason watched you carefully for a reaction. He’d never admit it but he was more nervous now than fighting on the street.

“You saw me looking at it. I didn’t think you’d notice,” you murmured softly as you picked it up. Jason took it and wrapped it around your wrist. He clasped it on and you looked at it, moving your wrist in the light.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful,” you said quietly looking at it. You had a little grin on your face. Jason smiled. That’s the look he wanted. That little bit of happiness that you showed when you were really pleased. He intertwined his fingers in yours.

“Princess, you’re so cold,” Jason said with a frown. He could feel it colder outside but now that he was getting used to the temperature, it wasn’t warm as it should be.

“The heater was acting up again so I turned it down. The blankets are plenty warm,” you said and his heart all but broke. There was no way he was going to let you be cold all winter because the landlord wouldn’t fix things. He might pay this guy a visit. You sensed his anger.

“It’s okay, Jay. Come lay with me and get warm,” you said taking his hands. He let you pull him into bed. He kicked off his pants and shoes and laid on his side. You curled into him as a little spoon. His long big frame all but engulfed you. It always felt to protective. If he was holding you, he knew you were safe. Jason ran his fingers along your bracelet soft as his rough fingers could.

“You’re so good to me,” you said softly and his heart clenched again. Fuck, if you knew all the bad he did. His messed up past. He thought you would have run away when you first learned he was Red Hood but no, you had been kind.

“Naw, Princess you deserve more then this shitty place,” he said, and for the first time, he felt a little bad about giving all of his trust fund to the soup kitchen he would visit as a kid. A little would have been nice to get a better place for you. But he had been making a ton crushing the drug trade at the time and didn’t have a girl back home when he did it. He couldn’t be as reckless now.

You turned in his arms to look in his blue eyes. He has such an intense look on his face that you frowned. “Jaybird, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said pulling his face back to normal. “Just thinking. I wanna move you to a better place, a safer place than this,” he said running his thumb across your cheeks. You grasped his wrist and leaned into his touch. Jason would sometimes get like that. Thinking you deserved better. And you humored him even though you wouldn’t even know what to do with wealth.

“We’re moving. Soon. I’m promising now,” he said thinking about the painful conversation he was going to have with Bruce. His adoptive father he hadn’t even told you about. Bruce would do just about anything Jason asked. Probably the guilt of letting him die.

“But Jay, we’d miss the water that went from boiling to freezing at random. And I’m not sure if I can sleep without Mr and Mrs Jancowski having sex every Tuesday at 2 AM,” you said with a smile. He kissed you to shut you up. You were joking but each one felt like a little knife in his guilt. You pulled him over you and the thought of money troubles faded from your mind.

———————————————

Jason woke before you and watched you sleep. You laid on his chest with your hand in his hair and your soft breath on his throat. The bracelet was still on your wrist. You looked so peaceful, trusted him while you slept. Jason carefully grabbed his phone and texted Alfred. He’d also have to tell you about his adoptive family. His very famous adoptive family.

He threaded his fingers in your hand that was flung across his waist. You began to stir. Jason moved hair from your face and you blinked to see his pale blue eyes watching you.

“Morning, Princess,” he said with a rough morning voice. You smiled.

“Morning, Jaybird.”

“I’ve got something to tell you,” he started. “I want you to meet my family tonight.”

“Tonight? Your family? I thought your parents...” you trailed off.

“I was adopted. I never told you because I don’t have the best relationship with them. But I think it’s time for you to meet them. I’ve got to tell you something else,” he said and you could hear his heart beat quicker as you laid on him.

“My adoptive father is Bruce Wayne.”

Silence.

“You’re shitting me.”

“Nope. And tonight I’m taking you to meet him. And my adoptive siblings.”

“You aren’t joking,” you said sitting up. Jason sat up too.

“I’m not. I’m kinda the... black sheep of the family. He adopted me when I was 12. I was trying to boost the wheels from the b- Bentley he was driving,” Jason corrected. It was one thing to tell you he was Red Hood. He couldn’t say Bruce Wayne was Batman.

“Wow. I- wow. Okay. That’s a lot to take in. Also on brand to be honest,” you said and he smiled and shrugged.

“Wait. What the fuck do you wear to the freaking Wayne manor for Christmas Eve?” You said a little panicky.

“Whatever you want. It’s just family,” he said with a sideways smile.

“Oh no. I can’t go to freaking Wayne Manor in a Kmart sweater,” you said quickly.

“You can wear,” he said hopping out of bed. He dug way in the back of his closet for a pretty red sweater that was slightly oversized. “This. Should fit fine. Pretty expensive too.”

“Where the hell did you get that?”

“I’ve had it for year and it definitely doesn’t fit now,” Jason said with a laugh. “Try it on.”

—————————————

The weather sucked. Freaking sleet that threatened everything it touched. You were grateful it wasn’t a night of Jason patrolling. This meant taking your car instead of Jason’s motorcycle. Your car was at least 15 years old and you called it Frankenstein because of all the repairs done over the years.

The radio skipped as Jason drove over a speed bump by Wayne Manor and you burst out laughing. Jason looked at you from the side.

“It’s not that funny,” he said. “What’s up?”

“My car is trash, I’m wearing your old sweater, and we’re late. If you weren’t the black sheep before, bringing me home, you will be now,” you said. He grabbed your hand and parked in front of a random house.

“I’ve been the black sheep since I was a kid and you aren’t going to change any thing for the worse. Trust me. In fact they’ll probably think you’re too good for me,” Jason said with a dry chuckle. “So don’t worry about anything. Except making room for pudding. I know it sounds weird,” he said starting to drive again. “But it’s the best part of Christmas.”

Wayne Manor was huge. You knew that. You’d even seen it on tv. But to see it in front of you was honestly terrifying, especially in the nasty weather. You almost hoped Jason was playing some weird elaborate joke and was going to drive on by but he knew the passcode to the gate. He drove in the covered drop off spot by the front door and parked. You both quickly ran in the building.

The front entry was breathtaking. A gigantic Christmas tree and a full staircase decked out in garland like a Hallmark movie. It was like a magazine. In fact, it was in the Christmas episode of Gotham Life the year before.

You gripped Jason’s hand tightly as you walked down the hall. Your shoes sounded unnaturally loud and you had the urge to quiet them like it was a library. Jason pulled you to the doorway of a dinning room full of people settling to eat. Jadon cleared his throat.

“Master Jason! You made it,” Alfred said excitedly. “I recieved your message but it’s been many years. Sit. Sit.”

“Glad you could come,” Jason’s brother Dick said with a grin. He looked at you in curious excitement. You looked down at some kind of mushroom soup placed in front of you. Everyone else was dressed so nicely and ate so perfectly. It was intimidating.

“Yeah, it’s Christmas,” Jason said shrugging. He gave Dick a look that said don’t ask. It didn’t take much for Dick to drop it because he seemed incredibly distracted. You spent most of the meal trying to keep up on conversations you clearly didn’t understand while trying food you’ve never seen before. You could barely remember everyone you were introduced to. One of Jason’s sister(s?) gave you a big hug along with everyone else when she arrived. You couldn’t tell anyone what was even said after the meal. Or so you thought.

Until right across from you, Dick proposes to his girlfriend. He stuttered around before finally asking. “Will you marry me? Oh god, I have a ring,” he said producing one. Everyone watched as she stared in the box.

“Will I marry you?” She asked faintly and you worried she’d say no. How terrible would it be??

“Please say something,” he pleaded and you could tell the man was practically in pain before she said yes. They kissed, the family applauded, and champagne was served.

Jason watched you from the corner of his eyes. How did you react to this? What did you think? You didn’t look jealous or anything. It made Jason think of marriage. He hadn’t before. He’d thought about moving into something more permanent but marriage. He’d never thought about marriage as his future, ever. Of course when you die at 16 and come back with a vengeance, love is low on the priority list.

“Jaybird, you there,” you asked slightly tapping his shoulder. He blinked and looked at you.

“Yeah, I’m here. Just in my head,” he said and you nodded. He’d do that sometimes.

“The party is moving to the parlor,” you said quietly in a proper rich Gothamite voice and Jason huffed before covering his smiling mouth with a nose rub. The rest of the group was moving ahead of you. Dick and his new fiancé were retiring for the night.

“I’m never going to hear the end of it, am I?”

“I’m so sorry, dearest. I can’t understand you with a silver spoon in your mouth,” you laughed. Jason rolled his eyes before guiding your shoulders towards the door. You heard a soft laugh behind you and you turned to see Tim’s girlfriend smiling.

“Sorry to interrupt but I’ve got to use that on Tim,” she said grabbing her coat and walking out.

After making sure you were cool with hanging with Tim’s girlfriend and their adoptive sister Cass, Jason and Tim started a very competitive game of pool. You couldn’t help but look at things that cost more than you’ve ever even seen. The chess set Damian and his girlfriend were playing with probably cost more than your car.

But it was Christmas and you tried to push your insecurities aside. It was a fun evening. A glass of wine you kept sipping on helped as well.

After a while Bruce announced that the roads were too bad and that no one was leaving. Jason clenched his jaw for a second before looking at you and relaxing. He didn’t want to stay but he wasn’t risking your health in any way. Instead he focused on the game.

“So if I win,” Jason said a full hour later. By this time, Damian’s girlfriend had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Your eyes felt a little heavy as well. “I get the penthouse.”

“Sure Jay. That’s Bruce’s. But I’m willing to gamble it,” Tim said throwing his hands up at the ridiculousness.

“I accept terms,” Bruce said. Both boys looked at him surprised. “Whoever wins gets the penthouse.”

You turned quickly to watch the game. Okay, is that a normal thing for them? To bet property. The look on everyone’s face said that no it wasn’t normal.

Jason was excellent at pool. It was a common for you both to go down to the pool hall and play some games. Jason would occasionally make some money playing and he did often as a kid. It was also a way to waste time when your mom was throwing beers back like a fish, like Jason’s mother did. Tim didn’t stand a chance. He wasn’t as good and looked almost like he was in pain occasionally. But maybe it wasn’t a real competition? Maybe Bruce was trying to give Jason something he’d always want to but didn’t know how. Jason easily won the game.

“So the penthouse is mine?” Jason asked. Bruce nodded and shrugged. Tim softly coughed in his hand. Your heart raced. They couldn’t be serious.

“If you’ll live in it,” Bruce said. Damian was carefully carrying his girlfriend upstairs.

“Deal,” Jason says quickly.

“Deal,” Bruce said looking quiet pleased. Was this his plan all along?

“I guess, deal?” Tim said confused. “Though you should owe me. You’re the one that got me shot.”

Your brain broke. He was shot? And it was Jason’s fault?

“What?! You got him shot?” Tim’s girlfriend asked loudly. Tim blanched.

“Not my fault.”

“Literally your fault,” Tim countered.

“What did you do?” You asked looking at him suspiciously. He offered you a sheepish smile.

“I might have said ‘what are you gonna do, shoot us?’ I meant me. Not Tim! He also has a bulletproof suit,” Jason said. Tim must be a vigilante too. You glared at Jason.

“That’s not in the report,” Bruce said with his eyes narrowing.

“Good night everybody. Merry Christmas,” Jason said pulling you from the room and up to his childhood room.

“You’re in so much trouble,” you said and he grinned.

“I’ll deal with it tomorrow. How do you feel about a penthouse? Better than our current place hu?” Jason said pulling you close. You felt dizzy at the idea.

“Seriously? We can’t afford it,” you said trying to stay grounded. It was too good to be true. Things like that didn’t happen to people like you.

“I think I know a guy who can keep the lights on,” he joked and you gave him a serious look. “Don’t worry about it. Just enjoy the idea of constant hot water. Lights never going off,” Jason said pushing you towards the bed. “No one can hear me make you scream.”

“Tempting. Very tempting,” you said and of fucking course it was. A safe beautiful clean penthouse over your trashy scary apartment wasn’t even a contest. Jason pushed you on the bed and hovered over you.

“What are you doing,” you asked flushed but still encouraging him. It was still his dad’s house and he was getting handsy.

“Trying to have sex with my girlfriend on my old bed like every guy ever has dreamed of,” Jason said. He nipped at your throat. You gasped.

“Got to be quiet, Princess,” he whispered and you pulled him down to kiss more.

————————————

The next morning you woke to an empty bed. You fixed your hair as best you could and threw on Jason’s sweatshirt before going downstairs. You caught a glimpse of the kitchen as Bruce slowly slid a set of keys Jason’s way before taking a long drink from his coffee. “I’m glad you made home for Christmas this year, Jason.” The penthouse.

“Morning,” Bruce said to you nodding before leaving the room. Jason was alone in the kitchen but you could hear others in the breakfast nook a door over.

“Keys,” Jason said showing you. “And no lecture.”

You gave him a hug and looked at the shiny metal keys. It would be a while before you could handle the idea of a freaking penthouse being yours. “But you should get something for Tim. You did get him shot.”

“Let him shoot me?”

“Jason, no.”

[just-a-floofy-catt]

AGH THIS IS SO SWEET! 😭💙💛💕

Im someone who honestly never had much of an online presence up until about 2 years ago, but even then i really struggled to fit in on other social medias and always just felt very out of the loop. Im used to not being able to make friends and connect to people, despite trying very hard to sometimes.

Even when i first got onto Tumblr, i was kinda scared and thought it would be the same all over again. I was nervous about doing something wrong or breaking unsaid social rules.

But as i spent time here, i realized how wrong i was.

People enjoyed and responded to the content i made, and were happy when i did the same. There weren't any rules, its literally just happy, silly chaos here.

It really just made me feel so good and now being here on Tumblr (and in the dca fandom) has such a sense of community and i can finally have a bit more confidence with interacting with and sharing silly, wonderful things with others :)

When people started interacting with me as moots, i was also just as nervous and scared as i first was about doing anything here 💀

I was convinced there was some crazy complicated rule set sbout how im supposed to act, and that i might drive them off or make them uncomfortable or seem weird, and so responding to anything from mutuals or talking to them made me absolutely terrified.

But now over time, ive realized that there is no way that im supposed to act. Everyone ive interacted with is incredibly kind, generous, fun and sweet and often share similar interests to me.

Ive come to the conclusion that my fears, for the most part, are unfounded, and have really started to try taking steps against my anxiety by doing things like trying to interact with my (oh so kind and patient) moots, joining community events (like omg the dcass was such a big thing for me and im so damn happy i did it) and making fanart for creators and aus i love and letting them see it.

Its been a little adrenaline-inducing and has definitely given me a miniature panic more than once, but i am overall starting to feel much more positive and confident and like i can just act unabashedly like myself :)

So, as a bit of an open ending thing to all my mutuals, or even just anyone who regularly sees my posts, thank you for making me feel welcome and letting me be excited about all my silly little characters :) 💕

Thank you for bearing with my anxious ass, even if its not obvious in many of my posts XD

And thank you for just being amazing and either supporting or creating incredible content! ^^

(Ps. Jester, i am indeed totally down for a collab or something at some point if you ever wanted to! 👀 XD)

I saw some people doing a like, end of year appreciation post to all their mutuals, so, I thought I'd do one!

@fairstival

Fairy! You were my first moot! You post a lot about things you love and that's great! Even if it's not always something I'm also into, it's still fun to see on my dash! And I'm excited cause you're excited! :3 (It's also nice to see random things on bats like facts and just pictures of them! They're very cute creatures :3 (unlike giraffe weevils...tho I love those funky things!! XD))

@dragoncxv360

Ellery! I tend to see a lot of stuff related to being neurodivergent and Aroace related things! And I love seeing that! You also have been slowly dragging me back into my love of Invader Zim with seeing you post stuff on it!!! Its great tho! Cause we both have things we like that overlap and get to see cool stuff this way!

@flufflefleurry

I mostly see reblogs from you, but you reblog a lot of cool stuff I wouldn't have seen otherwise in the fandom! And it's always a treat when you do post stuff about your Au!!

@sketchtxt

Sketch! I spam you a lot with reblogs and likes, but you do the same to me! Its mutual spamming and I love that! :3 I love interacting with you and seeing all the cool ideas and drawings you have for your many Au's!!!! And just getting to add my silly little comments in on stuff! (like...Eclipse and the...garlic bread boots thing...) And you are the single handed reason for an ENTIRE Au!! (I am very fond of the Au as well XD)

@salemlucidsleeper

Salem! We mostly interact in the StarBench Server, but its always fun to talk with you there! And see your comments on stuff others share or are talking about! And you reblog cool stuff!!!

@just-a-floofy-catt

Catt! Its always cool to see what you make and I love seeing your little snippets and drabbles! You make so much stuff with just...really sweet and heart warming vibes and I just LOVE it!!! (I may perhaps be...thinking of talking with you about something a bit like a collab in the future.....mayhaps...)

@cryptidbisexual

Cryptid! My newest Moot! And one of the people who have unofficially adopted me (and everyone else) in the Plushverse server! (no clue if the silliness applies here as well XD) I love seeing your art and how much its changed!

And to all of you!! Some of you are writers, some of you are artists, some of you are both or neither and instead appreciators! And for those who create, I love everything you make! All y'alls Au's and ideas and fanart! And those who don't I love your comments and appreciation and enjoyment of the things others create!!

All of us are in the DCA fandom and maybe other fandoms too! And its so fun to share and see what each other posts! I hope you all had a good year and I appreciate you all!!! <3 /platonic

[clairenatural]

destiel, 1.4k. another post-series (15x20 coda?) of the Heaven reunion, this one with trueform!cas :)

“Cas helped.”

Dean looks up at that, and Bobby is looking at him with an easy smile, and Dean waits for the inevitable rush of oh God does he know—but it doesn’t come. He starts to understand what this “at peace” thing is all about.

“Yeah?” he answers, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Is he, uh. Here?”

Bobby turns his smirk back on his beer bottle. “He’ll be along.”

Dean looks from Bobby to the impala, sitting clean and shiny in front of Harvelle’s, and then on to the dirt road that stretches off into the distance. He nods, begins to stand. “I’m gonna go for a drive,” he mumbles to Bobby, who just nods absently and watches him leave.

The Impala is warm, familiar. Grounding. The keys are on the passenger seat, on top of the same box of cassette tapes he’d had since he was 26. He’s glad to have it with him—he hopes Sam is taking good care of the real thing. He hopes Sam has Eileen riding shotgun, Miracle panting in the back. He smiles. They’re all in good hands.

Dean turns on the stereo and the opening bars of Ramble On fill the car, and he realizes the tape playing is the only one that hasn’t been in the box from the beginning. It makes his heart ache—he’s not meant to be listening to this alone. More than anything, though, it reminds him what—who—he’s driving to.

He’ll be along.

Dean drives for what feels like hours but could only be a few minutes—and time doesn’t really exist up here, anyway. He just drives, and the scenery around him shifts with every passing mile, and he doesn’t know where he’s going but he knows he’s driving until.

Until ends up being a field off the highway that opens up in front of him as he turns the bend. The sky darkens as he pulls up, and it’s a clearer night sky than he’d ever seen down below, and it looks just like one of the fields Cas would always make him pull over at on the way back from a hunt, just for a few minutes, just to see the stars.

He pulls the car into the shoulder and steps out, walks until he’s in the middle of the field, and stops. He looks up—but he is up, and how do you pray to a place you’re already in?

“Cas—” he starts, but he’s barely done with the syllable before a cold wind blows past him and he feels something behind him. A presence. Him.

Okay, so maybe he was overthinking the praying part.

Dean turns slowly, and all his breath leaves his body at the sight of the angel before him. He doesn’t know what he was expecting—he’s in Heaven, obviously, and angels, well—this is just what they look like. And this angel, well—

Castiel is towering. Approximately the size of your Chrysler building, Dean remembers. He’s many-headed, a mass of wings and eyes, a being made of pure light. Dean half expects him to start with be not afraid, but he doesn’t—he doesn’t say anything—and Dean isn’t afraid. This is right, he thinks. This is beautiful.

“Castiel,” Dean breathes, the full name leaving his lips for the first time in years, and the angel glows brighter at the sound of it.

Hello, Dean. He speaks without speaking, as if the words are being projected straight into Dean’s mind. His whole body reverberates with them. You’re early.

Dean smiles, and it’s a bittersweet thing. “Yeah, sorry about that. I wasn’t too eager to get up here, either.”

He can’t explain what, but something about the angel feels sad.

“You, uh—last time, you kinda left in a rush. Didn’t let me say anything,” he continues, both to shut down any more death talk and also because if he doesn’t say anything now he’ll chicken out for another century.

My apologies. I wasn’t intending on seeing you again.

Dean throws both his arms out. “That’s the point, man! You can’t just drop something like that on a guy and die.” There’s something almost absurd about chastising an Angel of the Lord in his true form, but Dean doesn’t care. His whole damn life had been absurd.

There’s a silence. Dean can almost see the way Cas would be shifting on his feet, if he still had feet to shift on.

I’ll try not to do it again, he says, finally, and Dean can’t help but grin.

“Yeah, you better not. At least not without letting me tell you that I love you too, you asshole.”

There wasn’t much sound to begin with, but any ambient noise around stops. For the first time since he arrived Heaven is silent, except for a low buzzing he slowly realizes is coming from the being in front of him. He suddenly remembers sparks of electricity and shattering lightbulbs.  

You love me?

Dean laughs again, nervous now. “Yeah, I do. I mean—I have. You know. For…a while.”

There’s another moment that is too still, too quiet, before Castiel moves—something that could be a wing reaches out for him, and Dean should be terrified, but he’s not. He lets the light touch his cheek and closes his eyes. It’s warm. It’s pure.

Slowly, the light-wing becomes more and more solid, more and more hand-shaped, until Dean feels the weight of a human palm on his face. He opens his eyes and meets familiar blue ones. He grins. “Heya, Cas.”

There’s still an apprehension in Cas’ eyes, which Dean hates. “You love me,” he repeats, out loud this time.

“Yeah,” Dean confirms.

“I don’t understand.” Cas drops his hand from Dean’s face but Dean catches it in his own, links their fingers together.

“It’s three words, Cas. Pretty self-explanatory.”

“But you said it to my true—to me.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Well, yeah, dumbass. I love you.”

Cas is still staring at him like something isn’t clicking. He takes a deep breath. “Dean, you know that—what I said, just saying it, that was enough…I don’t need you to—"

“Hey, Cas?” Dean cuts him off, and he stops rambling. “You know what you said, about wanting something you can’t have?”

Cas nods.

“I’m telling you that you can have it.”

Cas blinks at him, and then it’s like everything slides into place, and he’s grinning and reaching back up for Dean’s face, and then—then they’re kissing. Dean is in literal Heaven, kissing an angel, and it’s—well. It’s perfect.

When they finally move apart, it’s not far, and Cas doesn’t drop his hands. Dean leans their foreheads together and they stay there, breathing together, until Cas breaks the silence.

“I was going to come back.” Dean has his eyes closed but he opens them at that.

“Hmm?”

“I was going to come back,” Cas repeats, louder this time, pulling back enough to look Dean in the eye. “Dean, I promise—Jack needed help repairing Heaven, but after that I was going to come back to you. And Sam. I just didn’t expect—”

Dean gets it. He does. “Hey, I didn’t either.”

Cas shakes his head, as if Dean isn’t getting it. “Yes, but, if I had been there—”

And nope. No. They’re not going there. “Cas,” Dean cuts him off, stern but not unkind. “It’s okay. You weren’t, and it happened, and that’s—it’s okay.”

“Is it?” Cas is staring at him, earnest and sad, and the sadness is heavy, and—well. No, it’s not.

“It’s not—I ain’t too thrilled about being dead, alright? But it also ain’t your fault, and I figure I’ve got an eternity to mourn myself, so…” Dean tightens his hold around Cas’ waist. “Can we just. Have this, right now?”

Cas smiles at him, and it’s still sad, but it’s a start. He strokes his thumb along Dean’s cheekbone. “We can have it forever,” he promises. 

Dean smiles back as he leans in again.

[honorhunt]

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐑 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 — it’s the year of the tiger!! ( anyone else saying that to the tune of survivor? ) which means to celebrate the end of the end of 2021 and welcome the coming spring, i want to acknowledge each and every person who made the past year a kinder experience. it doesn’t matter if we wrote replies to rival tolstoy or if we’ve known each other for a full .3 seconds, you are someone i’m thankful to be around. someone i’m grateful to see on my dash, and someone i hope to know better. this post will address mutuals from across my blogs ( @aniimvs / @scoundrvls / @stalkvr ) but i will be posting it here on boba since he’s currently where i’m active ( so if you don’t follow this blog and you’re tagged that’s why, please excuse the intrusion ). 

so without further ado, here’s where i adore you:

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐒 ( old school, not death watch — gar saxon got nothing on jaster’s boys )

@commandsir / @graysistance + all your blogs  —

my dyad. my literary matchmade. my best friend. my soul sister. my author hype buddy ‘cause i will make sure every single one of your future novels sell out. you are the jedi to my sith and the six actions to my manda. i met you at a time when i wasn’t sure i had a place in the rpc anymore. i’d been gone for a few years and being the dumbass that i am, i thought the best way to get back into things was taking on a character i’ve not only wanted to write since 2015 but was, you know, a figure in social warfare. i thought i wouldn’t make it. that i didn’t have the talent or the personality to be here without my former friends. that they’re what made me me. i was a talentless hack otherwise. 

when you followed me, i was ecstatic but also terrified. i was scared that you’d be disappointed, especially after i had a syllabic upchuck about kylo after you asked a very simple question that needed a sentence or two to answer. but here we are, almost two years later. we’ve come far since the days of dancing around the question of shipping because we both felt the vibe but were just so nervous about where the other person stood. now we’re like “that plot sounds scandalous  — race you to the starter.” 

i’m tearing up even now as i write this. it’s so dumb, i know, but you mean so much. i’m so honored to be part of your journey. as a writer, as a person. it’s a blessing to see how far you’ve come and to see how far you’ll go. if time turned back and i was told i had to endure all the hardships again for a chance to be friends with you again, i would. no hesitation. you’re family, puck. i’m grateful for the adventures we’ve had thus far, and i’m anticipating the future ones like an absolute child.

thank you for being my friend. here’s to the tiger fortifying your strength and protecting you against the evils of this world. may the force be with you, ori’vod.

@darkestshadeofgrey / @echoylaad + all your blogs  —

if puck is my sister, you’re my brother. dude, i feel like i’ve known you forever. it still hasn’t clicked in my brain that i met you in august 2020 and not in like, august 2010. but down to the nitty gritty: hell’s bells, i envy your mind. i’m over here thinking i’m doing pretty good with my ability to drive a story just like, “oh i can wing it i guess. it’ll just happen.” and you dive in with like ten thousand years of in depth, rich, beautiful, decadent character history that leads up to the single moment happening in the thread and i’m just living in your world. happily so ‘cause i just sip my coffee and watch god work his hand. if there’s a pantheon of plotlines, you are it.

but also, you as a person? you are a treasure koj. i’ve never had great luck in friendships. i’m very quiet and reserved. i will make excuses for other people’s behavior before i ever cut myself slake. i never think to defend myself. it’s always everything bad is deserved and everything good is by chance. and meeting you has healed some of the scar tissue that made me that way. the years of putting myself on the lowest rung possible so that no one else could. you’ve spoken to the lighthearted, good natured side of friendship but i’ve realized in a very quiet way, by your very nature, your presence is therapeutic. how welcoming and warmhearted you were the moment you said hello, i was shocked. i was shocked that you were willing to be so nice. to spend that energy on me. it felt sacred.

i hope i can return the favor. i hope beyond hope that i can. that you know how amazing and special you are. how perfect of a person. your flaws, your strengths, your talents, your abilities, all the magic that makes you who you are? beautiful. a masterpiece. i’m not joking, i’m not gushing, and i’m not speaking from bias. i adore you, but even if i was a fly on the wall instead of your friend, i’d still think the same way about you. i’d still recognize how lucky people are to have you in their life. so may this year bring you fortune and favor and may you only shine brighter.

@yunharlaquin / @alderheir / @warrued + all your blogs  —

k i t t y. my lil literary soul sister. it’s me, the affectionate bag of bones that haunts your discord. no but me being an old lady and an old man combined into one coffee-fueled gremlin aside, i will forever me in awe of your writing. my heart was bursting with joy when you followed me ‘cause like i said: fucking j a i n a,  dude. i didn’t think i’d find a lot of legends in the rpc and it is a bit of a struggle, so getting to talk nerdy with you brought back good memories that got me through dark times. 

your passion for the things you love is a godsend. even if i can’t respond right away, especially since i don’t know a stitch from a glitch. i sleep in my doc martens and call it fashion. so, i just sit in for the ride and smile along as you document all the fun you had in the group chat. all the ideas and the feels fest you’ve been plotting with each and every muse you somehow manage to harmonize. you are the embodiment of talent and honestly, i’m just lucky to there. to be able to nerd out and sob over characters and ships. to come up with plotlines that would put telenovelas to shame. 

as silly as it sounds, we haven’t gotten a chance to explore dynamics beyond familial because of our muse choices so this year, i’m on my tippy toes peeking over the wall of what’s to come, curious as to what heartbreaking shenanigans we’ll steeple our fingers at in the months to come. 

it’s an honor to be your friend, kitty. let’s see who’s the first to cry. 

@jaigalorad / @pclpatine  —

jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay-ceeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. dude, you give me human zoomies. anytime you pop onto discord or appear on the dash i start running around screeching the audible equivalent of a keyboard smash. you. are. such. an amazing. writer. and such. a good. dude. like, your replies cannot load fast enough. i just start pressing all the buttons or smacking my phone screen like an idiot whenever i get a notif with your name attached to it. i wish i was a faster writer cause i just always want something new to read from you. i’m just in awe. i literally start flailing when you reply. it’s gotten to the point where i take a decade to reply to you cause it HAS TO BE PERFECT. there can be nothing less that pristine when it comes to writing with jc. 

but on top of being the king himself, you really are a treat. being your friend, like, i’m shocked. i’m shocked that i’m so lucky. still. i know i say that about all my friends, but it’s true. like them, you are amazing. i knew good people who had talent that outshined the sun existed, i just never thought i’d be worthy of their acknowledgement. yet here we are, getting close to the two year mark that we’ve been writing bloody murder together.

and aside from my own selfish reasons for adoring you, i think it’s safe to say you are the heart of the swrpc. many come and go, but you are a staple. you’re a light and joy, and just an endearing presence that reminds people that is a creative endeavor of the soul. this a place to express the what-ifs and the maybes that we don’t get to see otherwise. you are a magnet for good energy and this community is blessed to have you.

i wish you all the love and success you deserve. for this year and all those still ahead. love ya, dude. gar jatnese be te jatnese.

@galaxycrxss / @hamadaxfighter  —

so it’s only been a few months since we started talking but can i just say i am actively anticipating your original work? the moment you announce that you got an agent i will be setting aside a fund so that when your work is published, i can  — and will  — buy as many copies as humanly possible. i will then proceed to donate them to as many libraries as i can while simultaneously chucking copies at random people on the street. i will hype your work up before i even get to read it ‘cause i already know it’s gonna be good. i don’t know a damn diddly thing but i’m invested. because i’ve seen what you can do with characters, the way you weave words together and unite minutia with big picture, making everything important even if its subtle. 

hiro is adorable. fordo is somehow even more badass than he originally was and the man was already an absolute unit of a demigod. crosshair and echo? vibrant. alive. thriving in the colors of blood and angst. i love it. i’m soft. and the way our muses click??? i keep forgetting it’s not canon. that boba didn’t actually modify his rifle with a scope because of crosshair ( that we know of ) or that boba’s fighting style became even more efficient because i got to meet an arc, the martial scions of his father and the true mandalorians. 

i . . . i’m also . . . not even joking when i say my mouth dropped when you interested in writing with jango. like, adding him to the multi was me being self indulgent ‘cause i love the man a lot. he’s one of my favorite characters but his time in canon was so tragically short, i figured no one would really want to write with him. and then you slid fordo over to him and shared all these amazing things that you came up with and how you’d really love to flesh them out with plots. fill in the telling with in depth showing as to why fordo respected jango so much, why he was the ultimate arc trooper. to be invited into the space? into that creative undertaking you did out of love for fordo, i  — no joke, i was tearing up. but ah fuck, it’s happening again. look, i’m a big crybaby sapling. i know i overreact but, still, it means a lot. to be your friend and to be someone you were so willing to share your ideas with, to be even a sliver in the spectrum of your storytelling. i . . . this year is gonna be amazing. i can’t wait for my heart to be obliterated by clanker slayer 3000, one shot 9000, and livin’ la vida echo.

@divineslcyer / @grcyrebcl  —

we only recently got to talking again after i rolled off kylo ‘cause work decided to throttle me dead. but holy hell you are a saint. like, i just, the thing that happened. wow, you . . . the fact that you tolerated me through that, i swear, dude. i will never be able to express how grateful i am for you not only being there for me but also trusting me with your own experiences. talk about trial by fire when it comes to “i wonder if we’d make good friends.” the answer is yes. a resounding yes. 

on a lighter note: look, i keep my personal culture to myself. and i know you know why. people can get real weird, real fast when it comes to policing others on their own identities and what makes them “real” or not. so keep it to myself and amongst friends. but damn was the latinization of the chat at dead o’ clock in the morning fucking amazing. i felt seen. like, yeah, we can all joke that the latine community has a lot in common no matter if we’re islander or mainland or what borders we got, but i was like no manches, it can’t be all true. but fuck, man, it is. i had to leave my bedroom i was shaking so bad. i woke my boyfriend up and was banished henceforth to the kitchen. you understood me, you UNDERSTOOD THE PLIGHT OF THE CHISMOSAS AND THE HONOR THAT IS LIPSTICK GRANNY KISSES. like, she got that generic red lipstick smeared across her teeth but damn if her smile ain’t the prettiest gem you ever did see. 

or how we have like thirty variations of genital slang and you can use each of those words five different ways with seven wildly different contexts each. like are you telling a dude he’s packing tissue paper or are you calling your husband by an endearing pet name. 

i knew we were gonna be great friends but if that wasn’t the funniest thing. it’s been days and i still randomly crack up. so yeah, i’m looking forward to the writing we’ll explore across all your blogs, with any and every muse you’ll throw my way.

but i’m also anticipating the payasadas. 

@pracses + all your blogs  —

aesthetic talent incarnate. like not only do you indulge my clone collector syndrome and send me spiraling with laughter with the ace content you send, but also like, you are the drugstore whisperer. i would’ve never expected to find bombass lashes in a grocery store, especially ones that actually work with my weird eye shape. and the looks you can pull off with eyeshadows that i cannot even begin to blend, damn. your looks are immaculate and the fact that you rock hard on a budget is sorcery in and of itself. like the looks you create??? i’d look like a sad peacock if i tried using the same palette.

anyway, aside from the mysticism that happens on your eyeballs, i love your writing. you have a talent for capturing character personality whether it’s in your visual art or your prose. i just balance my chin in my hands and rest in awe of your creativity. 

you’re also funny as fuck and i make the ugliest noises whenever the chat spouts off and your commentary starts rolling. your friendship is a treasure and so you are you. i’m looking forward to spiraling into chaos with you this coming year.

@acharnemcnt  —

well, well, well, if it isn’t kylo’s best nemesis, his villain-in-arms, and boba’s latest client foundling scamp. you’ve got a dedication and passion that i remain in awe of each time your writing and your thoughts grace my dash. i know we didn’t get to talk much last year. when we were just starting to plot things, every shred of my sanity was sacrificed to work and my presence shriveled up to nothing. i apologize for that but i’m hoping to make up for it this year. i really hope to be a better friend and writing partner. you’ve already left such a big impression, i seriously cannot unsee your hux. where there is a hux there is ame. the two just correlate and i so often forget where the line between canon and your original analysis. ‘cause i will be reading through novels or comics, fully expecting something to be there that isn’t because i read it on your blog.

@fasciinating  — 

i’m such a casual when it comes to star trek. i know like, five things, and i’m pretty sure they’re just memes. dude, i always had a soft spot for spock even though i’m as ignorant as they come, but i think you singlehandedly carved a spot for him in the center of my star wars heart. i’m sorry i’m so damn slow when it comes to our threads. i will literally write a reply. let it sit so i can edit it with fresh eyes and then when i come back to read it again, i don’t think it’s good enough so i delete it all and start again. i’m just so humbled by your presence. you bring such good energy to the dash. i’d be embarrassed to admit how many times i’ve physically choked on my coffee after seeing a crack post of yours. or how i will stop and read your threads even though i don’t have a clue what’s going on.

but also halo. halo, halo, hALO CONTENT. just the crumbs are enough to send me soaring. you feed my scifi soul, dude. so, i promise to be less of a dumbass this year so boba can have his misadventures with his towering little brother.  

@asycuwish  —

MY BOBA BUDDY. my twinning energy. you speak to those wild west days of tumblr when we all just followed each other: duplicates, personals, didn’t matter. we used giant ass gifs and titled threads. there was no small text, just WALLS. we haven’t written together yet but it’s gonna be a blast when we do. i don’t care what muses it’s with, or when or how. it’s gonna be a fun. you are a sweetheart, a valiant soul, and a dear friend. i look forward to our boba talks, and just the absolute comedy fest that our talks become. like, i cannot help but smile the moment i see a notif from discord come my way. and i look forward to every tuesday/wednesday to get fedexed into another dimension over book of boba with you. 

so i hope this year brings you peace and joy. and i wish you and your family good health. and i’m already anticipating the smiles to come. 

@echoylir / @gladiateshe  —

SAKDJHSDFG!!! the inhuman sounds i made when you came back were only intensified when the return of neves followed soon after. your ocs are captivating and i’m bouncing like an atom over your new bae. i hope this year shines brighter for you and i can’t hyped for all the mando shenanigans we’ll get up to. welcome home! i’m grateful to see you back on my dash.

@druisg  — 

so i know we talk sporadically and we’re not always chilling in the same fandom. but you are such a kind soul. you got queen energy like nobodies business, and you tolerate me. which is impressive considering i thought dune was dude. you are merciful. but wherever you go, whichever muse you choose to develop and explore beyond the limits of their canon  — i cheer for you. you are the sunbeam on my dash. you have such a good heart and freeing spirit. you bring out the best in others and inspire them to be the best for themselves. never let anyone tell you otherwise. you deserve all the warmth you share returned in kind tenfold, mal. keep being true to yourself and may this year treat you right.

@avrorean  — 

hey, so this is probably incredibly out of the blue ‘cause you don’t even follow me on this blog and we haven’t spoken in years, but we became mutuals back when i was writing kili. that’s almost ten years, dude. a whole damn decade. that’s a lot. that’s a lot of life happening. and even though we’re not active buddies anymore, just seeing you still writing nanna and knowing that you’re doing well, that you’re okay, it makes me smile. so, just a shout out to being an amazing person since the dawn of your existence. we may not write together anymore but that doesn’t mean i don’t have incredibly fond memories of our shenanigans. thank you and have an amazing coming year. i wish you all the good this world has to offer.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐈𝐓

@ncxile + @aetcrnus​ / @gurrillero + @infortunas / @fallesto / @niner1309 + @stubborn-amphibian / @mudhrns / @congeriemgriseo / @fleetadmrl / @rcfekjwtaardby / @krhyze + @shanded / @rebelrug / @killedarlings / @uniforced / @fatewills + @warnymphs / @brotherfell / @solhjerte / @hxdrostorm / @spirekept / @divcrse / @mitthexile / @kalesera / @arakkhna / @lovesaving + @starmother / @paramounticebound / @vagasbonds / @conlink / @featherstcnes / @celestaei / @manaborn / @viperofmandalore / @kyberled / @vuulpecula / @cosmosreign + @kaestis + @greyturned / @noxiovs / @griefdestined / @libertydestined + @hopeshreds / @asmodcus / @skjebne / @adversitybloomed / @rcvival / @enjedi / @murroyilodel / @fcalty / @senatcrdala + @fuzzbcll / @rebehllious / @lessersinned / @jaigeyed / @tempesttragedy / @dangercade / @sithstolen / @jakkuforce / @ancientsith / @heartsurpluss / @vaderari / @heirite / @jainah / @godblooded / @mvstangsally + @devlsdautr 

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

49%

Title: 49% 

Summary: If there’s one thing that Spencer hates more than rejection, it’s spontaneity. But sometimes the things (and people) we love outweigh the things that we hate.  AKA a series of events leading up to a weekend wedding between the BAU’s finest Dr. Spencer Reid and his partner in crime, Y/N. 

Word Count: 1365 

Warnings: none 

Author’s Note: I hope that you enjoy reading this! I really appreciate all of the support and kind words :) 

49%

Spencer Reid is terrified. Nothing could compare for the pure fear that courses through his veins in this moment. Not even the times he’d run into hostage situations without wearing a Kevlar vest or even in the most lonely parts of his life. He figures that he’s terrified because he has so much to lose. Never in his life did he have someone that loves him as much as Y/N does. And that terrifies him. Somehow, when Spencer is with Y/N he’s simultaneously a man numb with love and a little boy shaking with fear. He knows that he should have gotten over this fear of rejection years ago. He knows that Y/N would never intentionally hurt him. He knows that she loves him more than anything. 

So why? Why is he so terrified to ask her to marry him? Logically, there’s no reason for her to say no. They’ve been together for 3 years, which is long enough at their age to enter into an engagement. It’s not like she doesn’t want to get married; he’s seen her Pinterest wedding moodboard. She talks about their children, almost like they're already here. She wants to get married and she wants to have kids, but the question that bounces around in Spencer’s mind is does she want that with him? 

“Next!” the barista calls Spencer forward to the counter to order. 

“Hi, I’ll have an extra large black coffee with 6 Splendas, and uh, a large iced green tea with honey,” Spencer orders, pulling out his credit card to pay for the drinks. Coffee is probably not the wisest choice, but what can Spencer say the heart wants what the heart wants. 

Spencer awkwardly waits for his drinks, trying to ignore the small box that burns a whole in his pocket. He’d bought the ring a couple of months ago, right after a case that both of them almost didn’t come home, or worse almost came home in a casket. 

“Two drinks for Spencer!” a barista from behind the counter calls, telling him that his drinks are ready. Spencer takes a sip of his coffee, the sweet liquid burning his tongue. Taking a look at the time on his watch, Spencer decides that it’s time to head to the park. 

It’s a short walk to the park, but it seems like it’s the longest walk of his life. Maybe if he wasn’t so nervous or terrified, he'd be able to enjoy how beautiful was. Spencer might be a complete ball of nerves, but he’s a romantic at heart. He wants this to be a perfect start to their perfect life. He finds the park bench that he told Y/N to meet him at. He sits there, waiting for her to show up and waiting for their life to start. 

Spencer’s leg bounces up and down. He should have worn a different pair of shoes. These Converse are so old and ratty, he thinks. He thinks he looks ridiculous in his cardigan and corduroy pants, what was he thinking? He can’t actually expect that she’s going to yes to him. 

While his thoughts are occupied by the constant inner commentary of rejection and ridicule, he fails to her the leaves crunch behind him. His vision goes black when his eyes are covered by a pair of familiar feeling hands. Y/N’s laugh gives it away instantly, but Spencer’s constant vigilance does cause him to yelp in a high pitched squeal. 

“Spencer! It’s me honey,” Y/N says, wrapping her arms around his neck and peppering his cheek with quick kisses. It’s the kind of kisses that say “I’m happy to see you” and “You’re the only one I want to see”. It’s at times like these that he doubts his doubts; maybe he can have faith and hope and lean into the romantic side of himself. The side of himself that sees them walking in the park with a baby stroller, playing on the playset with their children, teaching their kids how to drive in the parking lot and sitting on this bench when their backs hurt all the time and their faces have a few more wrinkles.

“I’d know that laugh anywhere, Y/N” Spencer says, watching her move to sit next to him on the bench. 

“Ohh, thanks for the iced tea!” She says, taking a sip of the cold drink. Even though it’s barely winter, Spencer still can’t believe that she can drink iced beverages in any kind of weather below 50 degrees. He nods and kisses her on her cheek, which causes a small giggle to emerge. Spencer is still kind of surprised that his affections can elicit such happy responses from her. 

“So,” Y/N starts. “Why did you leave our house at 7:00 AM and text me to meet you here?” 

“Umm,” Spencer says, the nerves bubbling to the surface. You can do this, Spencer, he thinks. You can do this, she’s not going to say no. She can’t say no. At this moment, Spencer is really wishing he had his passport with him and a getaway car to jump in, just in case Y/N says no.

“Did you know that only 3% of weddings happen in a courthouse?” Y/N asks at a completely stunned Spencer. 

“Yeah,” Spencer says timidly, not entirely sure where this is panning out, but grateful to listen to his girlfriend. It beats the alternative, him saying something stupid and her laughing at him; him fleeing the state and ending up a magician in a Las Vegas casino. 

“Yes, courthouse weddings are a great alternative, they’re affordable and efficient for couples who just want to get married without all that fuss,” Y/N adds, looking at Spencer. 

She’s profiling you, Spencer thinks. Don’t make eye contact. He knows (and she knows) that the moment he looks into her eyes, he’s done for. Las Vegas here he comes….

“And 51% of marriages end in divorce,” Spencer tells her, before he can even think about what he’s saying. Great he thinks, the day that he’s supposed to propose to her, he’s talking about divorce statistics. 

“You know that I failed statistics in college, Spence?” Y/N asks him. 

“I think I remember you mentioning that,” Spencer says, now thoroughly confused as to where this is going. 

“I have an evil plan to seek revenge against statistics, so I think that it’s my life mission to prove them wrong,” Y/N finishes, pulling something out from her bag. 

Spencer can feel his heart beating in his chest. He’s even more terrified than he was before. Suddenly all those songs that Y/N made him dance to late in the middle of the night make complete sense. 

“But, I also think that it’s my life mission to spend the rest of my life with you, Spence. So, I know that it’s not alway the case for the girl to propose marriage, but I think that you deserve someone to propose to you,” Y/N says, very quickly. 

Spencer sits there on the bench with Y/N sitting right next to him, utterly speechless. Did she just….

“You want to marry me?” Spencer says, dumbly. 

“Of course I do, Spencer! Give me your hand, I got you an engagement ring and-”

Spencer, suddenly fearless, cups her face in his hands, effectively making her quiet. He works on the surge of confidence, leaning in and kisses Y/N on the lips. It’s like he’s kissing her for the first time in his life. It’s like his first kiss ever, but it’s the first kiss of all the kisses of the rest of their life. 

“So I’ll take that as a yes,” Y/N says, breaking apart from Spencer. 

Spencer lets out a laugh, completely forgetting why on Earth he was so scared to propose. 

“So you’re not the only one who had this idea, Y/N” Spencer tells her, reaching into his cardigan pocket. He hands her the velvet box and reveals the vintage ring that he picked out from the second hand jewelry store. 

“Spencer? Is this why you told me to come here? Oh God, I ruined your proposal!” Y/N says, embarrassed that she messed with Spencer’s plans, knowing how nervous he can get. 

“On the contrary Y/N, I’m sure that this is the best possible proposal,” Spencer tells her, as she lays her head against his shoulder. 

“Spencer,” Y/N says, suddenly serious. 

“Yes, fiance?” Spencer teases. 

“How would you like to be in the 3% of marriages? Like as soon as possible. Like tomorrow? I don’t think I can wait another second not being married to you,” she confesses. 

“As long as we’re in the 49%, I’ll do anything you want.” 

[randomshyperson]

hiii hope you’re doing well and drinking enough water!!! I’ve got an idea for high school nerdy wanda that I wanna share with you and you feel free to write it or not! so wanda is nerdy, shy and adorable and reader is popular and actually nice and has always been intrigued by wanda. I was listening to drivers license by olivia rodrigo when this idea came to me so, reader probably gives wanda a ride and it becomes their thing and reader is always saying wanda should get her driver’s license and they eventually get together and it’s all cute and fluffy but there’s this blonde girl (for the sake of the song lol) who’s obsessed with reader and always makes wanda nervous and jealous. so when said girl finds out about reader and wanda (let’s just consider this girl the typical most popular girl in school trope) she threatens reader and makes reader break up with wanda and get with her. you decide what the threat would be. maybe something really personal about reader or wanda’s past that would haunt them if people were to find out. but then reader and wanda get back together in the end of course. sorry it’s so long and again you don’t have to write this!!

Hi, honey, is everything alright? I hope so! I had to listen to Drivers Licence One Hour Version to write this, but I liked it haha This song is great for dramatizing a romance I never experienced, and I hope you'll be pleased! By the way, i kept the original drama of the singers (the whole guy was older and stuff)

Happy reading.

Drivers License - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: 13+, Language, mentions of abuse/sexual harassment, bullying, underage kissing.

Words: 2.642K // Read on AO3 too 

You met Wanda Maximoff in your senior year of high school. 

It was raining heavily, and you had stayed late at school to take care of your responsibilities as leader of the athletic team. You figured that at that time there would only be you and the janitor in school, but as you were leaving towards the parking lot, you bumped into someone.

- Damn it, I'm sorry! - you said, looking at the person. It was a girl about your age, but you had never seen her before. She looked away from you immediately, as she bent down to pick up the books you dropped. - Hey, let me help you with that.

You bent down and helped her pick up the books, and when you stood up, you handed them to her with a smile.

- Thank you. - She spoke softly without looking at you. Maybe she was shy, you thought. 

And then you heard thunder and let out an exclamation, an idea occurring to you.

- Hey, are you driving? - you asked gently, and the girl frowned, but denied it with her head. - I can give you a ride, because of the rain.

- Oh, that's okay. No need. - She denied, blushing. You let out a little giggle when a louder thunderclap sounded.

- It's no bother, really. - You said, smiling. - Where do you live?

- On the Sokovia complex.

- Wow, you see? We are practically neighbors. - You reply cheerfully. - I live two streets away from your house.

The girl nods, looking away. You put your hand in your pocket.

- All right then. - She finally agrees, and you smile as you open the door to the parking lot, and walk out in front with her walking slightly behind.

You walk in silence to your car, but when you start the vehicle, you want to talk to her.

- So, what's your name? - you ask gently as you drive in reverse to leave the parking lot.

- Wanda. - She answers in a small voice looking out of the window. - Wanda Maximoff.

- I've never seen you before, Wanda. - You comment, and then you are outside, and the rain makes a loud noise against the car. 

- I'm a first-year. - She says and you let out a sigh of understanding. That' s why you didn't know her, she was a freshman. - But I know you.

You let out a surprised little laugh.

- Oh yeah?

- Everybody knows.

- Is it bad?

She shrugs, smiling slightly. You think you already like her. You then turn on the radio, letting some pop song play softly, and then you start tapping your fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the song. 

- Since you are a first-year, you must not have a driver's license yet, right? - You comment, and Wanda denies it with a grumble.

- I'm only 15. - she says. You stop at a traffic light.

- Why were you in school until now? - you ask curiously.

- It's the best time to be in the library. - She answers, looking at you briefly. 

You are silent again, and then you arrive in the area of the Sokovia residences.

- Hey, Wanda. - You call out to her before she opens the door. - I can drive you to school if you want. - And seeing her surprised expression, you quickly add with amusement. - Just until you get your license.

Wanda smiles, and nods in agreement before leaving. 

It took 160 rides for you to realize that you were in love with Wanda Maximoff. And you thought it was not surprising at all.

From the first time you saw her, you thought she was impressive. And then every day of the week, you had a vision of her half-asleep leaving the house, and greeting you with a smile. You talked about everything, from the most superficial and random things, to your insecurities and fears. You shared your breakfast, and sang songs together. But then you'd get to school, and your friends would surround you, and Wanda would disappear. You only got her back on the way out, when you gave her a ride home.

You didn't say anything about it, and neither did Wanda. It was as if your car was the safe space in your relationship. And you were completely terrified of messing it up.

And then it rained again, but this time your car was in the outside parking lot. You ran to the car through the rain, and when you finally took cover you were soaked. You started laughing the next second, and when you looked at Wanda, you couldn't control yourself. 

- I want to kiss you. - You breathlessly confessed when you stopped laughing, Wanda blinked in surprise, her face red. - Is that all right?

It takes a moment, but she nods. Then you move on the seat toward her, and she meets you halfway. When your mouths meet, you both sigh. It's sweet and tender, and you part, leaving your foreheads together.

- Why did you stop? - She whispered with her eyes closed, making you gasp. And then you kissed her again, this time until the windows were fogged up.

Unfortunately things don't get amazing after that. The routine comes back to you, and then you are overwhelmed with end-of-year tasks. Even though you are completely in love with Wanda, and steal kisses between one ride and the next, you see the distance between you grow. Maybe it's the way you two act like you didn't know each other at school, or how Wanda won't tell you what your friend Sharon Carter was talking to her about the other day at school, or maybe it's the way you don't tell her that Tony Stark made fun of you for weird freshman.

And then things get much worse when you turn eighteen, because your friends start mocking you with the law on their side. And it's hard to concentrate on the good memories with Wanda while they tease and mock, and you want to go back to the car, but you have to smile and nod politely, because that's what they expect of you, and soon you're graduating.

You receive your acceptance letters from the universities, and you want to tell Wanda, but she is traveling with her family, and you are bored. And so you agree to celebrate with your friends who also got their letters, at some bar in town. When you start drinking, it's easy to dance and laugh all night, and when they tease you again, you want to leave, but there is a gentle touch on your shoulder. Sharon hugs you, and tells you that everything will be all right, that you should go out with someone who looks more like you, who is compatible, and when she says lots of sweet words, you want to remember smiles and stolen glances at school and gentle touches in your car, but your head is spinning and you accept her kissing you.

When you wake up, you are wearing no clothes, and there is a hand on your waist. You want to throw up, because even though you and Wanda never made a commitment, you feel the betrayal burning in your bones.

You want to yell at Sharon and tell her to leave, but then she's threatening you, with pictures you don't even remember taking. And when you get back to school, she tells everyone that you two are dating, and you wait for Wanda in the parking lot, but she doesn't show up.

You cry at your graduation, and not from happiness. And when the ceremony is over, you get in your car and drive one last time to Wanda's house, and you cry against the steering wheel. You are 18 now, with a diploma and a girlfriend. This is over, and you have to move on.

In college you meet someone who helps you, her name is Shuri, and after you have spent the whole first year being completely miserable, you have a literature assignment together. When you are going over the details of the presentation, at the third coffee meeting, you cry when you tell her about the photos.

- My girlfriend is blackmailing me. - You whisper, and she looks surprised for a moment, but then she hugs you, and assures you that she will help you.

There are police for a while, and then courts and court orders, and then therapy. You also make new friends now, good friends who don't judge or make fun of you. And then you pay attention in class again, and agree to join the track team. 

You try not to think that there is only one thing missing in your life, because you have no right to disappear and go back to her life, but you can't help it missing her.

But you swallow your feelings, and try to pay attention to the future.

You come home in the fall, and your past comes back to you. You don't think you've ever talked much to your brother about school, but then you find yourself asking. And as he talks, you ask about Wanda.

- Wow, I remember her. - He says. - That girl you used to drive around with, right? - he asks and you nod. - I never understood why Sharon was so mean to her, but I guess it all makes sense now.

You blink in confusion.

- What do you mean?

- I thought you knew that story. - He remarked nonchalantly while you were in the kitchen, he was looking for cookies. - She used to say such bad things to Wanda, as if she was superior to her, you know? I think she acted completely different around you.

Your heart is racing. Confused and angry.

- Why didn't anyone ever tell me this? - You complain and your brother frowns.

- Look, it wasn't anyone's problem. 

- It was my problem. - You retort. - I would have interfered, I liked Wanda!

Your brother is surprised by your outburst, but says no more. You drag your feet out of the kitchen.

You want to scream in anger, or punch Sharon in the face, but it's not mature and there's a court order. So you throw yourself on the bed, sinking your face into the pillow. When you fall asleep, you dream of Wanda.

On your last day at home, you know you shouldn't, but you drive to her house. You think your heart is going to burst out of your chest, but you swallow your nervousness and get out of the car. Wanda is on the porch, with her brother, and she looks surprised to see you. You assume that she didn't want to see you, but when she is close enough, she hugs you around the waist, putting her face into your chest. Your body instantly relaxes. You don't know if you're blushing from the hug, or from her brother's gaze on you, maybe a little of both, you think as you hug her back.

When you two are left alone on her veranda, you apologize for long minutes, because you're just sorry you lost her. But Wanda smiles, and holds your hand. And you are silent for a while, swinging your feet on the rocking chair. And then Wanda giggles.

- I got my driver's license. - She comments, and you let out a surprised and happy exclamation. 

- Let's drive somewhere now. - you say excitedly. Wanda laughs.

- Where?

- Anywhere. - You answer already getting up, pulling her by the hand.

While you are in the car, she tells you that she is going to a university in the south, forty minutes away from yours, and you can't hide your excitement. And then you are turning on the radio and singing along with Wanda loudly as she drives down a highway.

When she drops you off, you exchange numbers, and you know that this time you're not going to let her get away.

You are busy with college. Very busy. But this time, there are messages and video calls from Wanda almost every day. And then she's in college, and she's just as busy as you are. And you start missing her a lot, and your friends comment that you should tell her how you feel.

So you're driving to her dorm, but when you get out of the car, she's arriving, distracted with some books.

You hug her from behind, lifting her slightly in the air, she is startled at first, but as soon as she realizes it's you, she laughs. She turns around quickly, hugging you by the neck, the books are pressed against you, but you don't mind.

- What are you doing here? - she asks with a smile. You think she looks beautiful.

- I miss you. - You say, making her blush. - Can we go somewhere?

Wanda thinks for a moment, but smiles.

- Sure, I just need to leave some notes with my roommate. - She says. - You can visit my dorm.

You nod, escorting her into the dormitory. When you walk in you try not to get too excited. Everything is so organized, even for a college dorm.

Wanda's roommate is not here, so she just leaves her notes on the desk while you admire her polaroid collection.

- Where did you take this one? - you ask, pointing to a photo where Wanda was wearing a sailor costume.

She walked from the table to you, and let her chin rest on your shoulder. 

- At Sam Wilson's birthday party last year. - She answered, looking at the picture. 

- You look nice. - You commented, letting your gaze wander to the other pictures. Then Wanda's hands encircle your waist, in an embrace, and you bite the smile from your lips. - And this one?

You point to a photo where she is with Pietro.

- Halloween. - She answers after a moment. - I think we were on the street outside the house. - You murmur in agreement, looking at the photos, and then Wanda is moving her face. - You smell good.

- Thank you. - You comment, ignoring the fast beating of your heart. And then your gaze catches an interesting photo. - Ulala.

Wanda looks at the photo you are reaching for with your hand, and lets out a sigh, hiding her face behind your back as she laughs.

- Wanda Maximoff in a bikini, world. - You playfully try to look at her, but she just lets go of the hug, hiding her reddened face in her hands.

You raise your hands to her belly, tickling her until she pulls her hands away from her face. And while you're laughing, Wanda tries to push you away, but you hold onto her waist, and you both end up falling onto her bed. 

Your laughter slowly dies down, and you realize that Wanda is on top of you, your faces close together, and you swallow dry.

- I want to kiss you. - She confesses with reddened cheeks. - Is that okay?

You sigh and smile.

- Of course.

She smiles before bringing your lips together. It's as good as you remember, and then you're kissing until you're breathless, and Wanda sits on your lap at some point, and when your hands are on her waist and your fingers are through the fabric, you remember:

- I thought we were leaving. - You play out of breath.

- You're not going anywhere. - She replies with a smile and her lips swollen, before kissing you again.

Many dates happen after that, and two weeks later, you come back late from one of these, and you were planning something beautiful and impressive, but Wanda is smiling as she says goodbye and the words just slip out:

- Will you be my girlfriend?

Wanda blinks in surprise, taking her hand off the doorknob.  And then she smiles, and advances against you, kissing you on the mouth.

-Of course, you idiot. - She says against your lips, kissing you again.

And you are smiling, and kissing. And you don't want to let her out of the car, but you do, knowing that she would come back.

[clanoffetts]

Rey Skywalker NSFW Alphabet

Rey Skywalker x F!Reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, mentions of trauma

this is stream of conciousness, so it's a little messy, but i'm proud of it nonetheless.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

i feel like rey is really cuddly after sex. like she wants to be held, kissed, and told how good she did, how good she made you feel.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

She loves arms. they’re toned and strong, and trust me, she sees you staring while she works on the Falcon or her saber.

She likes your hands. She loves holding them, kissing them, guiding them as she shows you how to fix something. they’re softer than hers, and the way they feel all over her body is heavenly, especially with how touch starved she is.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

When Rey comes hard, she comes hard. It takes a while to get to her squirt, though. But when you’ve had her splayed on her back all evening, your tongue and fingers pumping in and out of her, telling her what a good, strong girl she is, and then have her ride your face ? with your hands groping at her tits, moaning into her cunt? you’re going to be drowning in her cum.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

At first, Rey considers all of her desires as ‘dirty secrets’ because she’s never had sex with anyone before, much less been in a relationship where she can ask for things. But once she’s comfortable, she’s telling you everything. The first fantasy she shares is having you use the torso wraps of her outfit to tie her ankles to the bedposts, and keeping her from squirming away while you overstim her

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

not very. who on jakku was rey going to fuck? no one, that’s who. she’s out of all their leagues. but she doesn’t have experience with masturbation, and knows what she likes.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

she likes being between your legs, sucking at your clit. she’s got a massive praise kink, so feeling you gripping at her hair, moaning, and evening closing your thighs around her head is non-verbal praise, and she loves it.

but she’ll always like laying on her back, you laying on your side next to her, running your hands all over her while whispering dirty shit in her ear.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

she can be goofy!! when she’s not utterly wrecked, which doesn’t take long, she’ll crack jokes and be sarcastic.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Rey’s brown hair isn’t just on her head. And she keeps her pubic hair trimmed, but doesn’t do anything too drastic. She was a bit scared at the beginning, she’s not naive or stupid, she knows the “popular” preference is clean-shaven, and she’s relieved that you don’t care.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

She wants to make everyone proud out of the bedroom, so ofc she wants to please you in the bedroom. And she sees that as taking care of you, physically and emotionally, because that’s what she finds romantic. so she’s always telling you how pretty you are and what she loves about you in the moment.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Rey has quite a bit of experience with masturbating, lbr. but once the two of you have sex for the first time, she can’t get off as easy by herself. but, you gotta do what you gotta do. she likes comming you if she can, having you purr praises and instructions in her ear while she touches herself.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

i think she liked being tied up, until kylo, that is. now, just her ankles to the bedposts, maximum. maybe a spreader bar, since she does have more movement with that.

maybe a bit of light exhibitionism, too. she’s an adrenaline junkie, so….

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

preferably, the comfy bunk in her room on the resistance base. but, when rey’s horny, shes needy, and she’ll let you touch her anywhere from the empty briefing room to the ‘fresher.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

compliment her and she’ll lose it. she’ll get all blushy and quiet bc what's she supposed to do?? accept a comment without getting nervous and blushy??? and when you compliment her, her mind goes straight to how you compliment her in the bedroom. and then, she’s just standing there next to you, nipples hard under her layers of clothes, aching for you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

After Rey’s capture and torture by Kylo Ren, she can’t do bondage anymore. Like i said earlier, she can do a spreader bar, but that’s it, and she’ll need time to heal. it’s too much, too many memories. And she’s terrified of a memory of you melding with a memory of Kylo.

she also won’t hurt you. why in the world would she hurt someone she loves so much?

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Rey loves loves loves giving. she loves everything about it: being encompassed by you, your noises, your squirming, your praises. and it’s all for her.

she does like to receive, though. she likes your hands on her stomach to keep her in place, the murmurs of “good girl” and “fucking gorgeous” against her cunt drive her insane. the murmurs often make their way into her meditations, if she’s not careful.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends. At first, it’s urgent but it’s still sensual. Then, it evolves into sweet, slow, even lazy sex, trying to distract yourselves from the stress of the galaxy.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Between being a leader in the Resistance and training to carry a whole religion on her back after the Skywalkers are gone, quickies are kind of necessary. It’s not her favorite, but it’ll do.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

She’s game to experiment, but she doesn’t take too many risks. The light exhibitionism is about as risky as she’ll get. She is scared of getting caught and ‘overstaying her welcome’ with General Organa and the Resistance.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Rey loves overstimulation, there’s just something about you making her come over and over again while she grips onto you, the sheets, etc. so she can go for a while. And don’t think the Force doesn’t help her.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I def can see her using the Force if you’re ok with it, esp later on when she gets into topping/domming you and gets advanced enough in her Force use to use it in the bedroom.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

I can’t see her being a tease when she doms. I think maybe she tries, but her preference is to overstim you and shower you with touches until you’re shaking in her arms. She’s a protector at heart.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

She’s got some gorgeous, sweet needy whines. But the sultry voice she puts on when she doms, it’s not exactly deep, but it’s warm and it’s commanding, yet fairly quiet. When she comes, it’s often silent screams or groans.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Rey has super sensitive nipples. like, really sensitive. She could probably come just from your mouth around them or your fingers twisting at them. And sometimes, when her nipples just get randomly hard during the day, her clothes rub against them and she comes to find you just so you can pull her into a closet and toy with her nipples.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

azz n tiddies idk what to tell you. she’s very pretty but u know that

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

She’s insatiable at the start, she loves eating pussy and being fingered by someone other than herself, but it’s also the connection and the interaction of it all that has her hooked.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Fairly quickly if she’s been overstimmed, esp if you’ve got her in your arms and are petting her hair while the two of you watch a holo. When Rey has you in her strong arms, she waits to fall asleep until you’re asleep

@mandaloriandin @justwastelandbabyy @jangofettswife @delusionsxfgrandeur @rexsjaigeyes @tibbietibbs @zinzinina @thiccumz @latenightsthoughtsnstuff @deathwatchnightowl

[garbagevanfleet]

Brightest Blue (series)

PART ONE

Pairing: Josh & female!Reader Warnings:  None yet.  Summary: Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: Here we are everyone. This fic has been a long time in the making, but I’m pretty dang happy with it so far! I made Josh extra lovable and squishy for you all. I hope you enjoy! This fic is edited by the amazing and gorgeous, @lantern-inthenight. And big thanks as always to @myownparadise96. I literally could not have found the motivation to do this fic without you. 

MASTERPOST 

taglist: @myownparadise96 @n1-party-anthem @valleyd0ll @bigblack-catattack @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @oblvions @hansonobsessed​ @satingrass-maidensfair​

The scenery in Michigan was vastly different than back home. You were used to and comfortable with the nearly unforgiving heat of the American South West, but the farther away you got from home, the more foreign everything seemed. The scrubland slowly started being replaced by emerald green grass and dense forests of towering pines. Once you hit Illinois, little farmsteads were scattered along every road you took, boasting fields thick with corn and beans. 

It was a bit over a full day’s worth of driving. You had originally thought you could just drive right through - after all, you were young and you had plenty of caffeine at the ready. In reality, you wound up digesting the trip over two days. 

You were a fortunate enough person that you had a reliable car, which made up for the fact that it wasn’t very pretty to look at. It didn’t exactly sip gas, but that had never even been a concern before this - it wasn’t very often that you left home, let alone make a trip across the country. But you were able to breathe a sigh of relief when you started seeing the exit signs for Ann Arbor. 

Your parents had been a bit judgemental about you picking a school so far away - they were even worse homebodies than you, and they knew that you being across the country meant they wouldn’t be seeing you until the school year was over - but there was no way you could turn down an opportunity like this one. You had worked your ass off to qualify for a scholarship, knowing full well that there was no way you could afford higher education otherwise. MU hadn’t been your very first choice but with one of the better programs in the country for your desired field, you just couldn’t turn it down. 

You had to pull over into a McDonald’s parking lot to pull up the address you were looking for and program it into your phone’s GPS before continuing further into the city. Your mother had been particularly wary about your living situation. See, she was a woman that adamantly liked to have a plan and then stick to it - she didn’t see any value in just letting things happen. “Go with the flow” wasn’t in her vocabulary, but you’d always romanticised the idea. Which was why, when you pulled up to the apartment that you were going to be living in for the next year, it was the first time you’d ever seen it. 

You had found the listing on the Facebook marketplace for the area, looked at a couple of pictures, and signed the lease agreement online - all without knowing what you were really in for. You’d been informed that you’d have a roommate when you’d contacted the landlord, but she hadn’t mentioned a thing about the person other than that. All she really said was “no pets, no smoking, and one month’s rent for the security deposit. You had told yourself that it didn’t really matter what the situation was as long as the other person wasn’t outwardly malicious and the place wasn’t infested with pests or anything, even though you knew it mattered a little. 

An audible sigh of relief left your lips when you pulled into the apartment parking lot and found that your new home looked well kept. The building had old, slide-up windows, but the brick siding was clean, and the shrubs that lined the property were trimmed and neat. You and your back seat stuffed to max capacity with house plants had made it - and with only a bit of sleep deprivation and caffeine jitters for damages. 

After you got out of the car, you grabbed your very favorite potted cactus and found your way into the building, meandering down the dim hall until you came upon the door marked 6. You hadn’t been given a key yet, so you knocked with your free hand and waited until you heard someone shuffling around inside.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous - obviously, you were - but more than anything you were excited. Anxious, maybe? That seemed like the right word. 

The door opened to reveal a boy, around your age, hair a mess of curls on the top and shorn tighter to the sides of his head. You were immediately taken aback by the depth in his eyes, chocolatey and warm. 

“What’s up?” he asked casually, leaning against the door frame, a pair of old-school headphones dangling from his hand. 

You frowned at him slightly, suddenly terrified you’d gotten the wrong apartment number. You weren’t sure how you’d live with that embarrassment, especially if you had to live next door to him - you’d just be that stupid girl that didn’t even know where she lived.  “Oh, I think I’m your new roommate? This is number six, right?” You peered around the other side of the open door, just to confirm.

A beaming grin spread over his soft face, showing you his blindingly white teeth and the deepest pair of dimples you’d ever seen. “Oh, cool, yeah. Come on in.”

He stepped aside, giving a dramatically flourished bow as a gesture for you to enter. You obliged, and even though this was your new house too, you paused and waited as he shut the door behind you. 

“Sorry, I was expecting you yesterday, so.” He trailed off with a sheepish smile and then extended his free hand to you. “Anyway, I’m Josh.” 

You shifted your cactus to one arm so you could shake his hand. “Y/N. Yeah, sorry, it took me longer than I expected to get here. Which is why my stuff apparently showed up before I did.”

You eyed around the apartment, spotting boxes of your things in piles. The original plan your parents had come up with was to have you rent a U-Haul, but since you’d never driven anything bigger than your Camry, you had quickly shot that idea down. After some expert negotiating, they had agreed to hire a moving company. You hadn’t had the balls to ask what a service like that had set them back - decided instead that it was better if you didn’t know. 

“Oh yeah,” he replied, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It all showed up yesterday at like noon. One of the boxes was open a little, and I saw records so I looked through them to make sure you weren’t some kind of freak.”

It was more of a statement than a warning, and the smile he gave you showed not even a shred of an apology so you just smiled back. “Find anything you like?”

He turned on his heel and headed into the kitchen - connected to the living room by a huge square archway. “Your music taste is,” He paused, opening a cupboard and pulling down two mismatched glasses. “Eclectic.”

You laughed at him, bending to gently set your plant down on a side table. “That’s true.” 

“But I found plenty I could listen to, so I guess you’re okay. You want some juice?” he asked as he held up a paper carton of store brand orange juice

. 

“That would be lovely,” you agreed, standing stick straight the way you did when in the presence of new company. “My dad used to take me to a lot of thrift stores and we’d go home with a minimum of two records per trip.”

“I love thrifting,” he said simply, giving you an alarmingly serious look. “There are three here, I think. Every once in a while you can find something really worth keeping. I have kind of a ‘catch and release’ policy where if I don’t instantly know what I’m going to do with an item, I leave it there, but I think - like - a third of my wardrobe is from thrift stores.”

You listened, feeling oddly entranced by the way he was handing you thoughts as they came to him. There was something truly honest about it - a quality people back home didn’t seem to have. It was charming. 

He brought your glass of juice to you and then motioned to the rest of the apartment. “You want the grand tour of Casa De Joshua-” He gave you a pointed look and a cheesy grin. “And Y/N?” 

You breathed a laugh at him, nodding as you sipped. “Please.”

“Okay, try not to get lost - this is obviously the living room. I do most of my living here as the name would suggest. I found this couch on the side of the road - actually almost all of my furniture is adopted.” As he explained, he was gesturing to items like Vanna White.

The couch looked. Well-loved. You could tell just at a glance that it was probably past it’s prime when Josh had stumbled upon it, but it did look comfortable, and it wasn’t like you had a couch to offer, so you were happy with it. 

“I have this TV but it’s really only for movies and stuff because I’m twenty-two and I’d rather die than pay for cable. But there are literally hundreds of DVDs in the TV stand that you are welcome to peruse at your leisure,” he informed, his hands gesturing almost arbitrarily as he talked. 

You followed as he moved on through the archway. “This is the kitchen. All of the food lives here. There’s lots of stuff, but I try to just make two bigger meals per day. I don’t have a real ice tray so I’ve been using a chocolate mold- Well anyway, our ice will be in the shape of wiener dogs.”

You were shocked at the laugh that escaped you, genuine and uncontrolled. He grinned over at you, clearly also surprised - but pleased with himself for getting the reaction he was aiming for. 

“I think I can live with that.” 

“Good,” he agreed simply, giving you a new kind of smile - something sweeter. After a beat, he motioned down the hall with his eyes, letting you lead. “The bathroom is this way. The water takes like three or four minutes to get hot. I realized that I have a lot of products for some reason, but I condensed them all into this one area in the corner just in case my new roommate was a girl, and you are so that’s great. I’ll probably get a shelf.”

There was a proud quality to his voice like he felt gentlemanly for letting you have all the space you needed. For some reason, that made you feel warm and fuzzy. 

“And what if your new roommate had been a boy?” you inquired with a smirk. 

He put a finger on his chin, taking on a contemplative look for you. “Hmm. Then I guess I slowly would have moved my stuff back to the cabinet - probably just one thing per day so he wouldn’t notice. Unless he had a lot of makeup or something, then I’d just let him have it.” 

He grinned as you teasingly shook your head. 

“This way is the sleeping quarters. My room is there on the right and yours to the left.”

You stepped into your new room and let a sigh of relief. Two huge windows took up a lot of the far wall, framed underneath by large sills. The space was bright and roomier than you’d pictured. Your bed was set up in the very middle of the room, but you already knew exactly where you wanted it to go. For some reason, you had been concerned that you wouldn’t like the space, but it was kind of perfect. 

“This is great,” you breathed, turning to him and giving him a sly grin. “Wanna give me a hand moving my furniture around?”

He pretended to consider for a moment until you spoke again. 

“My mom sent money for pizza while I get stuff unpacked,” you said coyly. “If you needed any convincing.”

He laughed, showing you his teeth. “You drive a hard bargain. Okay, I’ll help as long as I get to look through your stuff while we move it.”

You gave him a questioning look, earning a one-shouldered shrug in return. He looked benign enough standing there, propped against the door frame with a goofy upturn to his lips, so you relented.  

“Deal,” you agreed.

You were positive you would not have been able to move stuff without his help. For being a slender boy, he seemed to easily be able to get things where they needed to be. He dutifully helped you shove your furniture into place - your bed against the window wall, your desk and vanity on the wall with your closet door. Then, bless his little heart, he helped you move it all again when you decided you didn’t like the arrangement (but not without some light griping). 

One by one, you brought in your boxes from the living room and you allowed him to poke through them, perched on your bed. He flipped through your books, thumbing pages of ones that piqued his interest - you could only imagine that he was already planning on borrowing some of them. He reacted similarly to your framed photos, as he unwrapped them from their packing paper.

When you got your record player set up, he put on a vinyl and started to hang your art prints on the wall where you instructed him to. The look of concentration on his face was rather endearing as he held a few nails between his teeth and hammered them into the wall, one by one. There was a time or two you were convinced that he was going to mutilate his thumb, but he didn’t, and when the last picture was hung, you breathed a sigh of relief. 

You called in a pizza, adorned with his requested toppings as you hung your clothes into your closet, your phone tucked against your ear and shoulder for maximum efficiency. 

Plants collected on your bed until there was no more room for them - after that, he started setting them on the floor as he brought them in from your car. He didn’t seem to be judging the sheer amount of them, even though he had every right to. 

“It’s going to look like a jungle in here,” he stated finally as he took a bite out of a slice of pizza that he was holding like a taco, his eyes raking over all of the foliage scattered around your room. Rather than sounding like he was teasing, his tone seemed excited. 

You grinned at him, starting to arrange them on the window sill and your bookshelf that had only ever served you as a plant shelf since you’d bought it. “Plants are my passion. Botany major,” you explained as you fluffed up your Monstera’s huge leaves. 

“Ooh.” He raised his eyebrows at you, pulling one of his legs up underneath him on your bed - now fitted with sheets. “I think that’s going to be nice. Give it some life in here.”

You grabbed another slice from the pizza box on your nightstand and tried to think of the right tone of voice to use to ask the next question. “How long have you lived here by yourself?”

He hummed, eyes flicking around distantly as he thought. “Well, I’ve lived here just over a year, and my first roommate dropped out and moved back home about...six months ago?”

“Have you been lonely? You seem like a social guy.” You gave him an empathetic look but he just shrugged at you. You hadn’t known him long enough to know for sure, but you suspected he was more affected than he was letting on. 

“I mean, a little lonely. But I got used to it for the most part.” He paused for a good couple of seconds before a smile spread across his lips. “And Penny’s kept me company.”

“Oh, does your girlfriend stay here too?” you prompted, trying to remember if you’d seen any feminine looking items lying around that weren’t yours.

“What? No,” he said under a chuckle and stood, gesturing for you to follow him across the hall. 

The second you walked through the doorway, you were met with the smell of incense sticks and linen. His room was dimmer than yours and kind of cramped with all of his mismatching furniture, but he had a huge bed - you thought it could easily fit three people in it. There were some clothes strewn about around a laundry hamper by the door and you tried to not be jealous that his closet seemed to be about twice the size of yours. 

He crossed the room to crouch in front of a coffee table that he seemed to be using as a catch-all. The varnish was worn off the top of it in rings because sitting on the coffee table was a globe of water and a calico colored goldfish swimming around aimlessly inside of it. 

“Ah, so this is Penny,” you giggled as you bent over next to him. When the fish spotted him, it rose to the surface of the water, opening its mouth in demand for food.

He grinned down at it. “Light of my life. We’re not allowed to have pets but I figured that a fish didn’t count.”

You hummed, admittedly a bit charmed by the whole situation. “But don’t goldfish require a lot of space?”

The smile fell from his face, adopting a level of concern you hadn’t yet seen from him as he peered over at you. “Do they?”

Immediately, you felt guilty for putting that look on his features. Your brain kick-started - trying to think of a way to make it right again. “I think so? Maybe we can find her a small tank? Put a few little plants in there for her?”

Josh nodded at you, stroking his fingers over the glass with a frown. “I’m a bad dad.”

“No, no!” you assured, putting your hand on his head but then removing it instantly when you realized that you didn’t really know him, he’d just already made you feel like you did. Either way, you figured it would be inappropriate to touch him. “You’re great. She looks really happy.”

“She’s great at begging for food, so don’t get tricked,” Josh instructed after a moment, seemingly able to put his concerns aside to jest you.

You nodded in agreement. “I’ll be ever vigilant,” you promised, making him smile again. 

He stood back up, so you did as well. 

“Well, I’ll give you some time to get comfortable in your room,” Josh said, sitting back on his bed. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?” 

“I promise I will,” you assured, tapping your hand on the doorframe on your way out. 

By the time the sun was set, your room was shockingly well put together. The emotional rollercoaster that was the album Rumors helped you keep on task, losing yourself in the music so it didn’t feel like work at all. You hadn’t been expecting it to come along so quickly, but you guessed that was because you hadn’t anticipated such a friendly roommate. The nesting had always been your favorite part, so you took your time to enjoy placing out all your knick-knacks and photos. 

You took a break to shower when you decided you were done for the day, reveling in the feeling of the water after such a long time in your car - He was absolutely right about how long it took to warm up from ice cold. When you got out and changed into your pajamas, Josh was sitting in the living room with a laptop across his legs. 

“You wanna chill?” he asked when he heard you padding down the hall, shutting the lid of it and setting it on a side table. “Or if you’re too tired, that’s okay too.”

“No, no. I’d love to talk.” You sat next to him, leaving a comfortable amount of room between you as you pulled your knees up to your chin. “Tell me more about yourself,” you requested, tugging a blanket from a beat-up wicker basket on the floor and wrapping it around your body.

“Hmm, okay,” he started. You wondered how long it had been since he had to introduce himself to someone new. “I’m from a tiny little town here in Michigan. I’m the oldest of four - two brothers and a sister. My brother, Jake, also attends MU and lives just off campus.”

You frowned at him. “Wait, why wouldn’t he live with you?” you asked through a disbelieving laugh. 

“He lived with me long enough,” Josh explained in a humored tone. “There are only so many people where I’m from and well - we wanted to meet new people, you know?” 

“I guess I should be grateful for that.” 

“Yeah, probably,” he teased and then paused to think. “I’m in performing arts - I’m actually putting on a production around Christmas with some elementary school kids.”

You suppressed the aww that was threatening to pass your lips. “You like kids?”

He beamed you a smile, shaking his head. “Love them. I want to have like ten of them someday.”

The thought of him surrounded by kids made you soften. You were genuinely shocked about how easy he was to talk to - how easy he was to like. You had never thought in a million years you’d get along with your roommate so well, let alone the first day meeting them. 

“I hope you get to,” you said as genuinely as you could muster, prompting him to give you a grateful smile. 

A yawn escaped you before you could hide it, and you quickly breathed an apology, but he just waved you off. 

“You must be exhausted from that drive,” he said, his voice soft. “You should get some sleep.”

You nodded in agreement and gave him a thankful smile. “Is it okay if I sleep out here?”

The look on his face was quizzical, forcing a laugh from you. “Why would you do that?” 

“I have this tradition where whenever I’m in a new place, I always sleep in the living room on the first night. It’s good luck.”   

“Whatever you say.” His lips pulled back into an unconvinced smirk. “Well, yeah, you live here now too, so you can sleep wherever you’d like.”

He disappeared into his room for only a moment before popping his head back out, fingers wrapped around the door frame.

 “Do you mind if I join you?” 

You tried not to look too taken aback by the question, but you could feel your cheeks flushing warm. You raked your eyes along the couch, entirely positive that there wasn’t enough space for the two of you to lay out on it together fully - at least, not without being pressed flush against one another. However, his face looked innocent and soft - not a single tint of mischief colored across his features.

“Yeah, that-. I guess that’s okay,” you agreed sheepishly with a shrug. “But I’m not sure we’ll both fit if I’m being honest.”

He frowned questioningly at you, his brows lacing together until he realized what you thought he meant. His face instantly turned a light shade of pink to match yours. “No, no,” he quickly assured in between a breathy laugh. “I’m not going to sleep with you - I’ll take the recliner.” 

“Oh, right.” You gave a nervous laugh of your own, cursing yourself out in your head for being so dull. 

You were still well embarrassed as you made a nest of blankets on the couch and he brought out a pillow for you when you realized yours were still tucked deep in your bag of bedding. When each of you was situated on your respective pieces of furniture, he flicked the light off with a comfortable sigh. 

It was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice taking on a tone that was far too smug for your liking. “You were awfully quick to agree to sleep next to me. You don’t have a crush on me, do you?” 

You knew he was teasing, but your heart rate still managed to pick up under the pressure. You had never been particularly good with awkward social situations; you rolled your eyes in the dark, thankful he couldn’t see how red you were. “No, Josh. I do not have a crush on you.”

“Okay,” he said through a melodic laugh, and you got the feeling that he’d gotten the reaction he was aiming for from you. “Should we be best friends though?”

You snorted a laugh of your own, wanting to be annoyed at how likable he was, but falling short. “You are the most peculiar person I’ve ever met, I think.” You curled up, clutching your blanket tight to your body. “But yes. We can be friends.”

“Okay, cool - I’ll order matching t-shirts for us.” You could hear the pleased grin he was wearing, making you feel warm and cozy. You pulled the worn blanket up to your chin.

“See to it that you do.” 

Author’s Note: okay, I hope you guys like it! please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or removed from it. I’m using the same taglist from my Jake!fic, so no hard feelings if you don’t want to be tagged!

[odos-bucket]

In Which Each of Bruce’s Kids Come Out to Him

and then he comes out to them

Dick

They’re working on opposite sides of the coffee table in one of the manor’s more habitable sitting room’s. It’s become a regular part of their weekday routine: Bruce finishes up whatever office work he has to do, while Dick does his homework, and talks about his day. Usually there are snacks involved. A parenting book Bruce had read recommended trying to get their work done together. It’s a good way to keep connected with their increasingly busy schedules.

“So anyways…” Dick’s story is starting to slow down a little bit, and the shift in tone has Bruce glancing up from his paperwork. “I should probably tell you, since, well, everyone knows at school now.” His voice is still conversational, and relaxed, but a little distracted.

Bruce shifts him his full attention.

“See, what happened was Cameron Josephs in my third period biology class came to school with nail polish on today, which I noticed with my clever detective skills, and promptly dismissed as unimportant, and everyone else noticed with their nosy pre-teen skills, and promptly lost their shi- I mean, minds over. And that was Mrs. Horton’s class, and she has absolutely no control over her students, so it sort of became this whole big thing. Kids were making fun of him, and other kids were yelling at them to knock it off, and he was just trying to do his work, but the rest of the class got into a big fight. And then Brad Cormick- he’s on my basketball team- made a homophobic joke, and we were sitting at the same table, and I could tell that he wanted me to laugh at it. So I told him to shut up, and said that I was bisexual, not that any of it really had anything to do with anything else that was going on, but it did get him to shut up, which was good. Except that I think it may have been because I have more friends than Cameron does, which is totally unfair, and everyone should just be nice to everyone else no matter what, but also I guess not really the point… The point is, yeah, I’m bi. Oh, also frog dissection got moved to tomorrow because one kid threw up.”

Dick takes a deep breath (finally) and a long sip of his juice, before immediately returning to doodling athletic stick figures in the margins of his algebra homework.

Bruce studies him for a moment, trying to figure out what kind of response is expected of him, what would be helpful for Dick to hear. He’s really not very good at this kind of thing.

He’s saved from the risk of putting his foot in his mouth when the science class story continues.

“Are frogs really that gross? I don’t think they are. But I guess our basement is filled with guano, so maybe my tolerance is heightened by regular exposure to the substance most frequently equated with insanity.”

Dick hadn’t seemed nervous before coming out, or relieved after. And if he’s not going to make it into a big deal then neither is Bruce, even if a part of him feels pleasantly warmed by the casual show of trust.

Jason

Bruce loves picking up his kids from school. It’s not something that his schedule allows him to do very often, and Jason- as Dick had been before him- always seems pleasantly surprised to see him. It’s a little thing in the grand scheme, but it’s just nice, normal. And he would never say it out loud- he’s not sure why, he knows he should- but he cherishes the little bit of extra time spent with his boys.

But today Jason isn’t happy to see him.

Bruce pulls up to the curb, and only has to scan the crowd of teenagers for a few seconds before spotting him. He’s on a bench with another student, their shoulders pressed together despite wide swaths of free space available on either side of them. Jason’s pointing out something in a textbook, while the other boy plays with his free hand.

Bruce pulls slightly to the side to let another car drive around him, figuring he’ll give Jason a few minutes to finish up, and notice that Bruce is there, rather than call out and risk embarrassing him.

It’s not even a full minute before they make eye contact across the lot, and immediately something in Jason’s expression changes. His eyes go wide and startled, his posture suddenly tightened. In one fast motion he shuts his book with both hands, muttering something to his friend as he practically throws himself off the bench.

Now feeling on high alert, Bruce sweeps an intense gaze over the school yard for anything that could have upset his son. He doesn’t manage to spot anything before Jason arrives at the car and pulls himself into the backseat (where he never sits, unless the front is already occupied). He starts talking before Bruce can ask what’s wrong.

“That wasn’t what it looked like!”

Bruce frowns, and looks over both Jason and the area in front of the school in an attempt to identify something that isn’t like how it looks.

“He just-“ Jason flinches, seemingly realizing something wrong with whatever he’d been about to say, and cuts himself off with a sharp breath. “I mean-“

Feeling lost is by no means a new part of parenthood for Bruce, and he’s sure it’s something he’ll experience many more times going forward. But, god, he really hates not understanding what’s going on, not knowing what to do, and he doubts that he’ll ever get used to it.

“Jason,” he tries. “Slow down.”

“Yes, sir,” Jason answers automatically. “Sorry.”

It’s been over a year since Jason’s called him ‘sir’ and the sudden reintroduction of the honorific sends a cold chill down Bruce’s spine. For a second they just stare at each other, with what Bruce is pretty sure are matching expressions of partially concealed horror.

“Jason,” he says more quietly.

“I know,” Jason interrupts. “I’m sorry. Please-“ He stops himself, covering his mouth before he can finish the thought, and then just as quickly lowering the hand back to his lap.

Another silence follows, short but harrowing. Then finally Bruce makes a rare admission

“I have no idea what’s happening right now.”

Jason stares at him, and the wider his eyes get the younger he looks, and the more Bruce wants to scoop him up into his arms. But he just waits, and tries not to look too expectant.

“I-I was holding hands with Derek,” Jason breaths out.

“…Alright?” He’s heard that name before. Jason doesn’t have as many friends at school as Dick had, so they’re a little easier to keep track of, even if Bruce has only ever met any of them in passing. “Is this someone you’re worried I’ll embarrass you in front of?” He asks after a brief pause.

Jason keeps staring at him, expression crinkling as his breathing grows erratic.

Bruce finds himself automatically exaggerating his own inhales and exhales, resting the side of one hand against his sternum, to remind Jason of some of their breathing exercises.

“That’s it, chum,” he says as he sees it slowly begin to work. “Everything’s okay.” For all he knows- or doesn’t know- right now it might not even be true, but dammit for his kid he will make everything okay.

“Everything’s okay,” Jason obediently echoes.

Bruce takes his hand off his chest, and starts to reach towards him. But Jason flinches away from him, not as violently as he had back when they were still new to each others’ lives, but it’s enough to make Bruce feel sick. He can practically feel the wrongness of it squeezing his heart into shards as he slowly withdraws his arm back into the front seat. He had truly thought that they had gotten past this.

“I’m sorry, Jay,” he says softly, a small concession to the part of himself that wants to beg his son’s forgiveness for whatever he’s done to make him afraid. “I’m so sorry.”

Jason’s not looking at him anymore. His head is down, and his gaze is fixed on his knees.

Bruce hesitates.

“I’ll never hurt you.” It’s a reassurance he had thought they were past the point of needing, but if they aren’t he’ll say it as many times as he has to. “Never.”

“Are you mad?”

“Is there something particular that I’m supposed to be mad about?” Bruce asks carefully.

“... That I was holding hands with a guy,” Jason elaborates, after a steadying breath.

Oh, Bruce is an idiot. What kind of detective is he if he can’t even- He cuts himself off, realizing he can’t wait too long to respond to that.

“Of course not. That’s what this is about?”

“I never meant for you to find out,” is the response he gets. And doesn’t that just hurt like hell to hear?

“That you like boys?” Bruce confirms.

“And girls, both. But I didn’t know what you’d think, so I figured if I couldn’t be sure it was better to keep it to myself.”

Bruce closes his eyes, taking a second to calm his own breathing.

“I never want you to feel like that,” he says. “About anything. I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear. I love you, Jaylad, that isn’t contingent on anything.”

I wish I could have protected you from whatever it was that made you feel like this was something you had to hide. He doesn’t say it.

Jason is finally looking at him again, gaze thoughtful and careful. A long moment passes, before he surprises- and momentarily terrifies- Bruce by getting out of the car. But before he can react to that, Jason’s climbing into the passenger seat, and after a second of hesitation, leaning into Bruce’s side.

“Okay,” he says quietly, sounding a little choked up.

Bruce puts an arm around his shoulders. The closeness is a balm after the pain of having his son flinch away from him.

Tim

Tim isn’t supposed to come over today. His parents are in town, and Bruce had made a point of hiding his reluctance when he’d given Robin the week off, chastising himself for the empty nest syndrome he has no right to be experiencing- at least in regards to this particular child.

So he’s surprised when he hears Alfred’s throat clear, and looks up to see both Alfred and Tim lingering in the doorway to his office. It would be odd to see him here at this time of day even if they had been planning to go on patrol; sunset is still a few hours off.

Bruce immediately has a bad feeling. He knows it’s commonplace for the Drakes to disappear unexpectedly partway through whatever length of time they were meant to be spending at home. As Batman it’s made his life easier numerous times. As a parent it’s beyond his comprehension. If he still had his boys at home- but he can’t think about that, not without breaking down, and if Tim’s just been abandoned that’s the last thing he needs.

As he approaches the door, Alfred’s pointed look, and Tim’s vacant expression confirm that he’s right to be concerned.

“Tim.” He keeps his voice neutral. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

He picks up on Alfred’s glare a fraction of a second too late to realize that he’s said the wrong thing.

“I’m sorry.” There’s something miserable in Tim’s voice, that makes Bruce want to bundle him up in a blanket. Before he can assure him that he has nothing to apologize for, Alfred cuts in.

“I told Master Tim that he’s welcome to stay with us for as long as he needs.”

Bruce nods automatically, looking down at Tim, who’s glassy expression looks a million miles away.

“Tim,” he says gently, eventually drawing the boy’s gaze, but feeling disconcerted by how delayed the response is.

Alfred leaves with a comment about putting a kettle on for tea, closing the door firmly but softly behind him. The sound it makes as it pulls all the way shut still makes Tim twitch.

“Do you want to sit down?” Bruce offers.

Tim stumbles a bit on his way to the couch. He’s so out of it; He won’t be patrolling tonight, even if his schedule’s suddenly open for it. Bruce sits down on the other side.

“Are they gone again?” He asks, trusting fully that the vaguely worded question will be completely understood.

There’s a worrying delay before Tim shakes his head, giving Bruce ample time to wish for Alfred back before he can register the response enough to be surprised by it.

“So...“ he begins uncertainly, before being cut off.

“I’m sorry,” Tim says again. “I don’t mean to be a bother.”

“You aren’t a bother, Tim.”

The- admittedly somewhat monotone- assurance just gets him a shrug.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He tries.

“Do I have to?” Tim asks after a long silence. “Can’t I just stay here?”

Bruce frowns.

“Of course you can stay here. But I think I really need to know what’s going on.”

Tim stares at him, eyes shining, mouth opening and closing several times before he speaks.

“Can I- Alfred says I can tell you something, and you won’t get mad?”

“Well, that depends on what it is,” Bruce says, thinking back on every time a robin has had something to tell him, but first wanted confirmation that he wouldn’t be angry.

Tim seems to shrink at his words, his breath catching audibly as he curls in on himself. Fuck, Bruce is bad at this.

“What do you have to tell me?” He asks.

“Well now I don’t know if I want to!” It almost comes out as a yell, strained by the sound of held back tears, and Bruce is a little taken aback.

“I’ll probably find out at some point,” he reasons.

There’s a beat of silence, and then Tim chokes on something that sounds like a suppressed sob.

No, no, no no. This isn’t supposed to happen. Bruce reaches out for him in an awkward and hastily aborted movement.

“I can’t,” Tim says after a minutes, tears streaking over his pale cheeks. “If you don’t-“ His voice catches. “I need you to let me stay here.”

Bruce’s heart hurts as he scooches a little closer, reaching out to rest a hand- hopefully not too awkwardly- on Tim’s shoulder.

“Of course you can stay here,” he reiterates. “I told you you could stay here. Even if I’m mad at you you can stay here. If you-“ He searches for a moment. “-Took the batmobile out on a joyride, and drove it into the harbor, I’ll be mad at you, but you’ll still have a place here. One will never have anything to do with the other.”

Tim makes a noise that’s over too quickly for Bruce to be able to tell if it had been a laugh, or just more crying.

“Did Jason do that?” He asks in a hoarse voice.

“Dick,” Bruce corrects.

This time Tim definitely snorts, which has Bruce smiling in spite of himself.

“Did you do something worse than that?” He asks.

It’s meant to be a joke, but Tim makes an unhappy face at the question.

“I- no!” He says, defensive, but confident. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Bruce gives his shoulder a squeeze before releasing it.

“Then why would I be mad at you?”

The humor that had begun to make its way into Tim’s expression disappears again, and Bruce curses himself.

“Mom and Dad were mad,” he says quietly.

Bruce scowls. He tries pretty hard not to let his dislike of Jack and Janet show around Tim- though he’s long suspected the young detective can tell- but it’s harder to hide sometimes than others.

“You said they were still home,” he remembers. “Tim, did they kick you out?” He does his best to keep the anger out of his voice.

And then he finds himself doing his best to keep the anger off of his face when it takes Tim a moment to answer the question.

“I don’t think forever,” he says uncertainly. “Just- They said they needed time to think about it, to d-decide what to do.”

The slight stutter puts him over the age, and fury starts to trickle into Bruce’s voice.

“To think about what?” He demands. Hell, that place is more Tim’s home than it is theirs. They have absolutely no right to ask him to leave! And where the hell do they expect him to go? Bruce forces himself to clench his jaw, and take deep breaths.

“...I’m gay,” Tim finally says.

Bruce stares at him for the second that it takes for the words to register, and connect back to the rest of the conversation.

“That’s it?”

He’s wincing at himself before the question is all the way out of his mouth, immediately convinced that he’s said the wrong thing again. But then, to his immense relief, he realizes that Tim has started laughing. It isn’t deep, or sustained. His voice is still a little weak, and his eyes are still a little red. But he’s definitely laughing, and Bruce realizes vaguely that a robin laughing is still his favorite sound in the world.

“That’s it,” Tim confirms, on the tail end of his laugh.

“Oh, Tim.”

Bruce doesn’t give himself a chance to second guess the motion before he pulls the boy into a hug, satisfied that it was the right course of action when he feels Tim melt against him.

“Of course I’m not mad, of course I’m not mad,” he repeats like a mantra. “I’m sorry I let you think I would be. You’re right, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

A few seconds pass, and he realizes there’s a wet patch at his shoulder where Tim’s face is buried. Bruce freezes, totally unsure of what he’s done wrong this time.

“I’m sorry,” Tim breaths out. “I- thank you. Thank you! I don’t know what I would have done if- I- I don’t want to be alone!”

“Not alone,” Bruce promises. “You’re not alone. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Tim presses closer, and Bruce takes it as a cue to tighten his hold.

Alfred finds them like that a few minutes later, Tim curled up in his arms, while Bruce cycles through reassurances. The look they exchange is enough to confirm that they’re both thinking the same thing: this kid is ours.

Cass

One day Cass hangs a little pride flag up on her door. Later in the week when she catches Bruce glancing at it, she comes up to him, gives the flag a meaningful nod, before just saying, “Girls!” in a happy voice, giving him a hug, and disappearing down the hall.

Damian

Bruce can identify every member of his family by their knock, but Damian’s is particularly distinctive. Not just because it tends to come from a lower part of the door, but because Damian has cultivated a strong knock, the way businessmen cultivate a strong handshake. It’s a very confident and determined sound, that he often finds himself stifling a smile at, knowing that that isn’t at all the intended reaction.

“Come in,” he calls, and there’s no pause before Damian strides into his office, confident as ever. When he speaks however, the undercurrents of his voice tell a different story.

“Father, there is something I wish to discuss with you.” There are a few hesitations, that don’t quite manage to turn into stutters in his voice, ones it’s unlikely anyone outside of their family would notice.

Bruce doesn’t comment on them, just nods for Damian to sit down and continue.

His legs don’t fully reach the floor. Something else that Bruce has learned not to let himself smile at.

“Grayson says…” he begins confidently, before trailing off.

Bruce just raises an eyebrow for him to continue, not feeling like he has enough information to put anything together from at the moment.

“Richard says,” Damian continues more carefully. “He came out to you as bisexual when he was around my age?”

Bruce nods. He has a feeling that he knows where this is going this time.

“He did.”

“He said that you were okay with it?”

Bruce nods again.

“Dick is my son. My love for him isn’t conditional, certainly not on that. There’s nothing wrong with not being straight.”

Damian had broached the topic using Dick as a proxy, so Bruce had followed his lead and assumed that Damian would know to automatically apply the assurance to himself. But Damian’s face just falls into a puzzled frown.

“So why…” he begins, before changing track. “Richard isn’t your biological son.”

Bruce frowns back.

“Damian, you know that doesn’t make a difference to me. I don’t love your siblings any less because they’re not-”

“I know,” Damian cuts in. “It isn’t about loving us differently.” He says it very matter of factly. “I have the ability to carry on your bloodline, whereas they do not.”

“That ability isn’t an obligation,” Bruce says, wondering why his kids never seem to be able to just worry about normal things. “And it’s certainly not something that you need to be thinking about at thirteen years old.”

Damian nods slowly, staring down at the desk with a look of intense concentration, before slowly raising his gaze to Bruce.

“Mother and Grandfather said that you wouldn’t like it, if I wasn’t interested in girls,” he says quietly.

Bruce sighs. of-fucking-course they did. He gets up from his chair, and moves around the desk to kneel in front of Damian.

“Well they’re wrong,” he says simply. “And they had no right to lead you to believe that it would make any difference to me. Just like I don’t love your siblings any less, my love for you is no more conditional. Understand?”

It takes a moment, but Damian nods.

“All right. In which case, I suppose... I’m gay.”

“And I’m proud of you,” Bruce says, before pulling his son into a hug.

Bruce

Bruce looks at his assembled family, and begins to feel a strange sense of trepidation tickling at the edge of his consciousness.

They’re all here. Trying to get the whole family together all at once is like pulling teeth. But he told them it was important, and they all came. There have been plenty of points over the course of the years when that wouldn’t have happened. And even though they’ve all been pretty settled with each other for a while now, he never wants to take for granted having his whole family together- not that he thinks the part of him that only seems to settle when he has all of his children within arm’s reach would let him.

The comfort of having them all be together is overwhelming, but the trepidation is still there, just like it probably always will be any time he manages to round up the courage for anything resembling feelings talk.

They’re all in one of the living rooms, sprawled in a comfortable half circle across various couches and chairs.

“There’s something I wanted to tell you all,” Bruce starts to say.

“Are you dying?” Stephanie asks casually.

Beside her, Cass freezes, looking horrified.

“I’m not dying,” Bruce says quickly.

At the same time Steph rubs a hand up and down Cass’s arm and assures her she was kidding.

“Not like he’d tell us if he was,” Dick says.

He knows it’s meant to be a joke, just like Stephanie’s question had been, but it still sends a chill through him. Mostly because he can’t say for sure that Dick is totally wrong; it’s the kind of thing he easily could have kept to himself. But then he sees the uncertain frown that Damian is giving him, and Cass’s wide, anxious eyes, and decides that he has to be wrong.

“I’m not dying,” he repeats, reaching out for Tim who’s sitting closest to him, and who’s been staring very intently at the floor since the topic came up.

Tim leans into the touch without shifting his position.

“And I would tell you,” he adds seriously, feeling absolutely wracked with guilt over the fact that up until this moment he doesn’t know if he would’ve been able to claim that with any certainty.

“I swear, if there’s anything wrong with me, all of you will know as soon as possible.” By the time it comes out of his mouth, he knows he means it with total certainty.

“I think we’re all pretty tuned into the fact that there’s something wrong with you,” Jason offers, and the tension in the room breaks.

Bruce smiles despite himself. That was agonizing. Compared to that getting on with the conversation he’d previously been so apprehensive to have will be a relief.

“What did you want to tell us?” Duke asks.

“It can be… difficult for me to articulate what it means to me whenever one of you trusts me enough to share something about yourself. I thought that I owed it to all of you to return the favor, and share a… recent discovery of mine.” He stumbles through it as awkwardly as he’d expected to.

“This is weird,” Stephanie stage whispers.

“I’m bisexual,” Bruce admits.

“Bruce!” Dick says excitedly.

“Unacceptable,” Jason cuts in. “We already have enough of that nonsense in this house!”

Tim kicks him in the side.

“Well, seeing as it’s an option, I for one prefer the idea of you pursuing romantic entanglements that bear no risk of resulting in pregnancy.”

“Noted, Damian.”

“I’m happy for you, B,” Tim says. “It can be hard figuring yourself out.”

“Thank you, Tim.”

“Is that it?” Duke asks. “I mean, not that it’s not a big deal- and I’m happy for you too by the way- it’s just that most of our family meetings involve addressing some kind of crisis.”

“That’s it,” Bruce admits.

“Perhaps- seeing as we’re all here anyways- we could take this opportunity to have dinner together as a family for once,” Alfred offers.

[notmrskennedy]

Noticed

Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

A/N - Howdy! Here’s another little something from my drafts. It’s a draft and a half again so be gentle with it. Also, I’m touch averse and I would be so happy to find someone I wasn’t upset with touching. But c’est la vie! I hope y’all enjoy!

Summary - The touch averse agent starts getting touchy....

W/C - 2.5k

Warnings - none I think, but lmk if there is something

-------------

If Morgan was being honest with himself, he thought you were dying. Or maybe ill. Or so feverish you’d abandoned every single principle you had. Because he’d been there that first day of yours, waltzing up from the coffee machine to see you nervously trailing behind Hotch. It was painful to watch, he remembers, so terribly nervous you’d envy the kid on one of his bad days.

He had smiled at you and stirred his coffee and remained optimistic that someone so obviously terrified would be a decent field agent. (You’d been decent and then some, especially in an interrogation room). There’d been one non-committal wave—distinctly reminiscent of a certain genius—and the first full sentence of, “I’m sorry, but I just don’t do the touching thing. Handshakes included.”

Every little touch plagues you. You’re six inches away at all times, lest someone accidentally bump into you or get the wrong idea that you might be willing to brush shoulders. There’s no friendly pats. No high fives. Certainly no hugs. Garcia is furious in her attempt to loosen you up—to no avail—but Morgan knows better than to push. Something makes you hate skin to skin contact and he’s not looking to share trauma stories with you. Not yet.

So this, Morgan thinks as he wanders into the bullpen while stirring his coffee, is a sign that you’ve lost your mind.

He watches as you carefully extend one palm to one Dr. Spencer Reid. Perched on the edge of his desk, you’re a regular fixture, just another cute figurine to add to the collection. It’s the end to some wild discussion he could hear in the kitchenette, full of flailing limbs and butchered sentences. Everyone always thought it was cute, if you stripped away how irritating it could be.

This is the point where you two are caught up in whatever moment you’re having, so much so that you extend an upturned palm between the two of you. Reid threads his hands through his hair, stunned at your peace offering. Or maybe an offering of something more than friendship. Morgan assumes its something more; not only because you have the softest grin he’s ever seen, but because your fingers are practically begging the kid to hold your hand.

Reid’s careful in how he asks his question—Morgan doesn’t know what it is, but he can just tell. The wide eyes. The scared contemplation. The are you sure parting the kid’s lips.

Grinning and blushing, you just wiggle your fingers. Murmur something that Morgan isn’t allowed to hear. Something only for Spencer. There’s surprise before he grips onto your hand, wriggling all ten combined fingers together. You giggle as you spin him around in his desk chair and get tangled up.

Dropped jaw and grinning, Morgan can’t believe you, so touch averse you, are willing engaging in such risky behaviour. There’s a weird few moments when he wants to remind both of you to wear protection in such endeavours.

And as he’s wondering if hands need condoms, the two of you let go and move on like nothing’s happened. You go back to punctuating your points with your flailing hands. Spencer goes back to distracting from his blush with paperwork.

Morgan goes to get more coffee, trying to stop imaging that you two were his kids, growing up without his consent. And maybe also the hand condoms.

#

It’s shortly after JJ’s wedding—about midnight as the cleaning crew are picking up the straggling drunks—both Hotch and Rossi notice. They’re leaned up against the bar, each smoking a cigar, watching a slightly tipsy you teach an awkwardly sober Spencer Reid how to swing dance.

It’s no secret that you and Reid get on like a house on fire, two nerds that couldn’t shut up about whatever weird ass shit was on your brains. Rossi never made much move to care. Hotch was too stressed to think about what the pair of you did off company time. Everyone, them included, imagined that what time you did spend together was three feet apart. In museums. Wherever. No one questioned what kind of weird nerd shit you did, especially stuff that they couldn’t really be bothered to care about.

Now, they’re forced to carefully consider the implications of how touchy you’re getting. With Reid.

He’s even more gangly and uncoordinated than normal, as Hotch and Rossi watch on, getting thrown around like a rag doll. It’s kind of adorable, Rossi thinks and shares a well meaning look with Hotch. The two of you would be cute and he’s hoping that you do get together. Rossi always knows about these things, even if Hotch is positive that you two are just friends. And as two professional gentlemen do, they made a bet.

Twenty bucks.

Your laugh—one that no one gets tired of hearing—echoes around Rossi’s whole yard, even into his house. Reid’s voice is about two octaves too high as you spin him around on his wobbly feet. You go from three feet apart to chest to chest and back again. Rossi remembers high school dances vaguely and Hotch absently thinks about Hayley’s old infatuation with Grease.

Rossi takes another long drag from his cigar, grateful for the indisputable proof that you two are shacking up. There is no way that two people so touch averse could be touching this much without prior exposure. The yard is a ruckus of both of your laughters, year after year of awkwardness falling off you both in sheets. They’re no denying you two shut in nerds are finally having some fun.

It’s warming both Hotch and Rossi’s hearts.

And their bet.

#

Penelope notices next. Who knew that such a simple interaction could leave her speechless? Stammering and stuttering over not even a full minute of insanity.

She didn’t know how she’d gotten sick, or what she’d come down with, but the only thing that was keeping her in her work chair was you. And the endless buckets of soup that you kept pouring down her throat. Without a case—thank god—for the last couple days, all that you’ve done is sit in the bat cave, keeping her and her soup warm.

It’s as you are finishing some corny ass joke that she thinks how sweet you are. How loving. Penelope’s love language has always been touch—she’s given too many hugs to count—but it’s taken her a minute to figure out yours. And as she stares into the chicken soup in her hands, she realises that it’s everything you do for her. Your love is literally palpable.

It’s in the bright keychains you bring back. Or the crazy pens. Or the way you always drive her home after drinking.

As she’s opening her mouth to tell you, tell you just how much she appreciates everything, when Reid pops his head in, whole body following. He’s got too much of a grin this early. But when he’s far enough into the room, he spreads his fingers out over your shoulder and squeezes. Says something about a case and you follow behind him with a wave of your hand at Penelope. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Like Penelope hasn’t been the one furiously trying to break you out of your shell. The predetermined first to get a hug in the office.

You’re still up and still waving and by the time she’s got her wits about her, she’s asking, “You let Reid touch you?”

The empty room and the closing door don’t answer.

#

JJ is nearly the last to find out. Well, your little touching relationship with Spencer has been the only topic of gossip between anyone for the last six weeks. They can’t believe they hadn’t picked up on the little bits of affection passed between the two of you.

Hand touches. Shoulder squeezes. Quick brushes. The mystical hug Morgan claims he once saw.

For the rest of the world, you and Spencer were nothing but friendly. Maybe even best friendly. To the team of highly trained profilers who had been friends with the pair of you for a combined 15 years, this was marriage material. This was you and Spencer screaming the pair of you had eloped.

You two crazy kids had to be together, but the team was left to sussing it out for themselves. Neither of you two would ever say anything, never give anything up. But surely, the three of them—using Penelope would be cheating of course—could figure out when you two had started up. Because you had to have. There was no way all of this was just friendly.

And it isn’t. That much is clear when JJ gets a phone call from you while she’s looking a crime scene over for what feels like the gazillionth time. Some un-sub with the usual cocktail of daddy issues, anger issues, and a healthy dose of narcissism.

It’s rare you call anyone without good reason. You aren’t the type to just chat—everyone has speculated you got enough of that from Spencer. And once JJ says hello, you start bawling.

You’re sobbing and JJ has no idea what to do.

“Y/n, y/n,” she tries, hoping you’ll calm down enough to breathe properly. “You have to tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s—it’s Spencer,” you hiccup. JJ can hear you sniffling into your sleeves. Can hear the blinkers go as you change lanes. “He’s not answering—not answering his phone. And he said he’d—that he’d call, but he hasn’t. And JJ something’s wrong.”

By the way your breath hitches and your sobs crackle into the phone, JJ knows exactly how bad it has to be. Spencer, however, is supposed to be following up a lead with Emily. Some paint huffer in his mom’s garage—nothing more than a routine witness report. She almost can’t believe something would go wrong.

“What happened? Where are you?”

“JJ,” you sniffle before the flood gates open again, “I can just feel it. Something’s wrong.”

JJ’s mind scrambles. As much as you played it off, you had a sixth sense. Every time, every countable time, someone got hurt, you knew before it happened. You had a gut for these things and JJ didn’t want to think about how bad this was going to be. How bloody. So she scrambles for her car and doesn’t wait for the other detectives to figure it out.

JJ’s halfway to the witness’s house when you make it there yourself. You’re still on the phone, doing a horrible attempt at trying to keep each other calm. You’ve traded the sobs for hiccups, thankfully. JJ can hear you climbing the porch stairs. She’s taking corners at 65 miles an hour.

Nothing seems fast enough when JJ hears the phone clatter to the floor and the shout of “oh my god, Spencer!”

Nothing is fast enough when you’re sobbing out, “You can’t die on me like this.”

Nothing is fast enough when JJ quietly but distinctly hears, “I love you too much for you to fucking die, Spencer Reid.”

#

Spencer Reid always thinks he’s the last to find out. He’s blunt and oblivious and thinks too much to just see what’s in front of his face. He was so sure they had all seen how in love he was, just how desperately he was clinging to the hope they wouldn’t notice. If they didn’t notice, you wouldn’t. Not while wearing the same sort of blinders he wore.

But once everything had come out? He was positive everyone else had known. That he’d come into work one morning and there would be a cake engraved with the words, “Congrats on Shacking Up!”

It never happened. No cake. No lights. No surprises. No one seemed to know or notice or anything. Spencer and you went on like nothing had changed—it really hadn’t anyway. He liked to laugh when you told him the two of you had been practically dating since the first time he’d offered to take you to a Korean film festival.

Two years later and he’s become very aware of you. And also the ache. All of the very dull and consistent ache in his body. Another scar to add to the collection, he bitterly thinks, out of anaesthesia enough to know that he’s in a hospital. That he’s been hurt. That someone’s holding his hand.

It’s calloused and soft and just perfectly latched onto his. A hand he’d waited to hold for too long. One that he’d be holding for the rest of his life.

Attached to the hand is you, sleeping haphazardly between his bed and a plastic chair. Your fingers are tangled in his, head rested on the crook of your arm and the bed. There’s too much of you curled up in a chair. It’s one of his favourite bits about you, just how dedicated you could be. How you were always there when he woke up and always would be.

He smiles and chuckles despite the pain in his ribs. You wake with a start, one startled gasp followed by a shuddery exhale as you realise again where you are. That nothing’s changed. That everything’s changed.

Through lidded eyes, he watches your eyes light up, matching you grin for grin. He watches the anger flash across your face for not even a second, and he knows exactly how bad you want to murder him for scaring you so bad.

Instead, you press frantic kisses to the back of his knuckles, message fully received. You missed him. You’d been terrified. You’d cried so hard, he can still feel the salt on your lips.

“Spencer,” you breathe, giving his hand one more kiss for good measure and pressing his knuckles to your cheek. “God, I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“I’m alive, y/n, I promise,” he whispers back. Hoarse and adorably okay. It’s one thing to expect to get shot going after un-subs. It’s another to get attacked by a PCP addled grandmother.

He wiggles a finger against your cheek. Even though he can’t see your red rimmed eyes or the dark tear tracts on your cheeks, he can feel the tear that pools on his finger. But before he can reassure you one more time, you shush him and tell him to get some sleep and that you’ll both worry about this later. Maybe over jell-o.

He grins.

#

The team, visiting the next morning, doesn’t have the heart to wake up either of you. Reid looks happy for the first time in—years—with you carefully curled into his side. Sure, there’s a scratchy hospital gown and some pesky lines overriding everything, but it’s cute. No denying that. Thank god you two knuckleheads are finally being open about it. Even if you’re sleeping.

Emily smiles to herself as she readjusts her sling. Morgan and JJ are trading exclamations of shock, while Hotch passes Rossi twenty dollars. You readjust and Reid’s arm moves to rest across your cheek. JJ isn’t subtle when she takes a photo, sniggering.

Emily is even less subtle when she snorts. “I guess I can finally let the cat out of the bag.”

Everyone perks up; she swears she sees Reid open an eye.

“Nearly six months ago, y/n drunkenly confessed to dating Reid. She’s a real wild card on tequila, let me tell you.”

“You knew?” Morgan screeches, “and you didn’t say anything?”

Emily shrugs, winces with her busted up shoulder. “Does it matter? Didn’t we all know?”

[matsbarzal]

Time’s a Ticking || Matthew Tkachuk

Notes: anyways I decided to do matty and I found this long list of soulmate AU prompts so I know what I’m doing tonight yikes. so here’s a lil bit of a nervous/anxious matty even tho he refuses to admit it. hope you enjoy!!! let me know how you like it <3 

Summary: everyone is born with a dwindling time on their wrist. the moment the time reaches zero is when a person meets their other half, the person who makes them whole; their soulmate. 

Word Count: 3k+

10,584. 7 days, 8 hours and 24 minutes. 7 days until he’d meet his other half, the person that’s meant to complete his soul, be his better half, or whatever a soulmate is meant to be. Matthew wasn’t crazy about the idea of soulmates, sure, he was surrounded by people who were madly in love and happy and complete; but he was also surrounded by those people... the one’s whose time stopped, girls and guys who had a permanent marking of time on their wrist that would never move again.

He wouldn’t say he was a pessimistic person, but he had seen so many friends and family fall into a spiral after their soulmate clock stopped ticking, watched as their other half broke them without even meeting them. He wanted to be excited and optimistic but Matthew couldn’t bring himself to feel the same delight that his friends did on his behalf. Anything could happen in this 7 days, 8 hours... and 22 minutes now.

6160 minutes

You could feel the bump of the plane as it touched the ground. This was the one part of flying you hated the most, the anxiety and the bumping as the plane made its way down the runway towards its destination. You knew anything bad was unlikely to happen, but your nerves were on edge. All you could think about was the time on your wrist, the time that kept on ticking. It hadn’t stopped in your entire 21 years of life, and from the looks of it, you were approximately four days away from that happening.

Sighing, you listened to the claps from around you as everyone congratulated the pilots for landing the plane safely. Around you, people stood up and began collecting their belongings, grabbing their bags from the overhead compartments as the chatter continued in the cabin.

You politely smiled at the man beside you as he passed you down your bag, a quick “Thank you” leaving your lips as he gestured for you to walk in front of him towards the exit. 

Originally, you hadn’t had any intention of leaving Alberta for the holiday break, but your parents had practically begged you to come home for the holiday’s, citing the fact you had remained in Lake Louise for the last year and that they had only seen you once since you made the choice to unravel everything you knew by packing a few bags and moving halfway across the country to Alberta to work at some fancy ski resort in the mountains. 

It was originally only meant to be a few months worth of work, waitressing in Lake Louise at a 5-star resort that is, and then time kept going by, and the more and more you fell in love with not only the scenery, but the people. Everyone was happy there, tourists were always excited and polite, everyone just wanted the chance to see the Lake, skate on the Lake, whatever it was. No one was ever unhappy here, and you loved that. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts as the line in front of you continued to move quickly, people eager to get out of the cabin and get back into the fresh air that flowed outside. You could barely contain your giddiness as you stepped off the plane. You could barely believe how much you missed the province, missed your friends, coworkers, you even missed the tourists. Who would’ve thought?

After about 20 minutes of watching the carousal spin and spin and spin, you finally eyed your bright red, Flames red, as a lot of people reminded you, suitcase. Grabbing it, you hauled the bag off of the carousal and onto the ground. You were eager to get to your car, which you had already paid a good 500 dollars worth of parking for, and eager to get the move on the three hour drive across Highway 1 to Lake Louise. 

After four and a half hours of travelling, you knew this three hour drive was going to exhaust you. And with the temperature out in Alberta right now? All you wanted was your bed and a cup of piping warm hot chocolate to end the day.

4590 minutes

“Man, your face is already awful to look at. You really trying to ruin it even more right before you meet your soulmate?”

Before Noah could even think, a wad of tape hit the side of his head while exclamations went up around the room about the choice of target. “Whoops, guess my tape slipped... out of my hand.”

Matthew shrugged his shoulders, an innocent grin on his face as he stood up to grab the tape from beside Noah Hanifin’s locker. 

“No, but seriously, why are you getting into fights with three days left on your wrist? Don’t go and get yourself killed or something, they’d be devastated if they’ve waited this long for your dumb-ass just to have 4000 minutes tattooed on her wrist for the rest of her life.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Matthew ignored his teammates comments, choosing instead to run his finger across the always-changing number on his wrist. 

“It’s not like it matters anyways.” His words were barely above a mumble, but it was enough to spark the attention of his captain, who was quick to tell him to meet him in the trainer’s office after he was done showering and getting the blood that was currently dripping down his face, cleaned.

Obliging on his captain’s orders, he found Gio in the office, a tight smile the only warning that he was about to get ripped apart by the veteran. Gio was one of the lucky ones, he had barely been 16 when his clock finally hit the big 0. It made him an advocate for all the soulmate bullshit, constantly encouraging his teammates to wait it out, be patient, their time would come. 

“Chucky, buddy, we gotta have a chat.”

Quirking his eyebrows at the older man, Matthew nodded, “Well Gio, I kinda figured that one out buddy, unless you pulled me in here to look at my oh so pretty face.” 

“I’m serious. You need to stop with this constant bashing of soulmates and times and shit. I know you don’t like it and you hate the concept of soulmates and whatever, but you’re doing nothing but worrying the younger guys. These kids are constantly terrified their minutes are just going to stop and be etched into their skin.”

Subconsciously running his fingers across the number on his wrist again, 4530 minutes. Wonder what that is in exact time. Shrugging his shoulders, he was quick to apologize to his captain. “Sorry, G. Not trying to scare the kids, just getting a little... I don’t know? Worried? It’s getting too close, I don’t want to get like...  it’s not important, never mind. I’ll stop talking about times in the locker room. Sorry.”

Quickly tightening the tie that was now wrapped around his neck, Matthew raced out of the office before Gio could say something else to him. He eagerly grabbed his phone, wallet, keys and suit jacket before quickly making his way towards the parking garage, the only thing on his mind was of course, you.

2120 minutes

One whole day and just a few hours. You could barely breath as you ran your thumb over the little black number on your wrist. You knew it was inevitable that you’d be meeting your soulmate while working, the moment you looked at the work schedule when you arrived back from home, you knew you’d be stuck working during the time in which you were meant to meet you soulmate. You were giddy, sure. But what if they didn’t like you? What if whoever it was, was snooty, and rude, and didn’t like you for who you were?

“Y/N, you gotta stop thinking about it, babe. You’re gonna get your head stuck in a whirlwind of thoughts. Think about other things! Like... the Calgary Flames.”

Eyeing the blonde beside you, “Tell me Cassidy, why in the world, would I think about the Calgary Flames, instead of thinking about my soulmate?”

Your coworker shrugged her shoulders and gestured to the board behind your head. You had all been notified a day prior that the Calgary Flames had reserved a whole floor of the Chateau for the weekend. With your restaurant being directly in view of the Lake and the Mountains, you were expected to be the main dining spot for the team over their course of the weekend.

“Believe me, Cass, the last thing I want to think about is a bunch of hockey boys who are going to make me miserable the weekend where I’m supposed to be... not miserable.”

She winked at you, a teasing glint in her eyes, “Maybe one of those awful hockey boys has the same number on your wrist. Maybe Noah Hanifin’s your soulmate. God, I’d be so jealous, could you imagine being destined for that beautiful exhibit of a man? God, I’d climb him like a tree.”

Laughing, you wacked her with the towel in your hand as she continued to egg you on, gloating about how beautiful of a specimen Noah Hanifin was, and how she’d do just anything to crawl into bed with that man. Cassidy was always like this, bubbly, happy, positive. Her number had stopped moving 12 years ago, or so she says. She hadn’t been paying attention the day it stopped, the number etching itself into her skin permanently, to never move again. She was never negative about it, always saying that she hoped just the thought of her brought peace to her soulmate in their last moments. 

“Okay okay, enough about the Flames. I doubt it’s even going to end up being any of them, hockey boys and I do not get along. Especially the one’s that are just constantly bothering people, and that’s the entire Flames roster, so... let’s get back to work.”

440 minutes

One thing Matthew was sure of was the fact that he loved everything about the drive to Lake Louise. He wasn’t notorious for being a huge fan of the scenery around him, but something about the drive across Highway 1, the trees, the snow covered mountains, they all just faded together and created this picture in his head. It was hard to describe, there wasn’t anything specific to the picture, it was just joyful, it was happy, it was calm. Jesus, maybe he was just fucking crazy. 

A lot of people always said you feel more calm in the hours leading up to the first time you meet your soulmate. But he sure as hell didn’t feel calm. He was on edge, the scenery around him, albeit, it was beautiful, it was not calming him down. His leg was shaking, his foot tapping the ground beneath him on the bus. He could see Johnny giving him a look every time his shaking leg touched his teammates. He knew the entire team was frustrated with him. Two games straight, two 10 minute fighting majors. 

He was being a pest, constantly egging people on, trying to ignite arguments or fights or just some form of stimuli to get his mind off of the only thing it could stray to. You. He didn’t want to think about whoever the hell you were, he didn’t want to get his hopes up that maybe his clock would actually hit 0, maybe he’d actually meet his better half. Or maybe he'd fall through a crack in Lake Louise and never have to worry about it again... hopefully. 

“If you touch my leg... one more fucking time, I am going to sock you in the fucking face Chucky.”

Immediately pressing his heel into the ground, Matthew mumbled out a quick ‘sorry’ to the teammate beside him as he watched the trees continue to go by outside the bus window. The time was still changing on his wrist, every minute counting down as the minutes passed outside. There was barely any cell service on the drive up, so the only thing that could truly distract him at this rate, was you, and he hated that.

“Soooo... you excited Chucky? It’s gotta be the big day, no?”

If choking a teammate was legal, Matthew would already be wringing Noah Hanifin’s neck. 

“Yeah, delighted.”

“C’mon grumpy pants, you’re literally like what? 6 hours away from meeting the person who’s supposed to complete your soul... and you’re in a foul mood. Did Doughty crawl up your ass and die last night or?”

Grinding his teeth, Matthew tried to bite his tongue, refusing to lash out at his teammate, even though he so desperately wanted to. He wasn’t going to be the cause for a toxic locker room, especially over something as stupid as soulmates. 

It was obvious that something was going on, everyone on the team knew the time on his wrist equalled out to less than a day. Everyone could see how on edge he was slowly getting as the time dwindled down, but no one could figure out why he was getting more and more frustrated, why the excitement wasn’t shining through as the time continued.

“Why the hell aren’t you excited man? This person’s supposed to be the love of your life, and you seem like you couldn’t give two fucks if you meet them or not?”

It was too late, Matthew was exploding before he could even comprehend what he was saying. “It doesn’t fucking matter man, okay? I don’t give a shit about this soulmate bullshit. Everyone’s soulmate is gone one day anyways, what the hell does it matter if you meet them now? I’m gonna be aching at some point because they’re gone and I’m alone. Woohoo, I get to meet them today, woo-fucking-hoo. I could literally not care less, so stop bugging me.”

27 minutes.

It was all around, highly likely, that your soulmate had some form of connection with the Calgary Flames. Their reservation was scheduled for 23 minutes from now... and your wrist had that small number 27 etched on it as it continued to count down. 

“Wow... maybe your soulmate really is Noah Hanifin... I’m sorry for saying I’d climb him like a tree.”

A loud laugh left your throat as you watched a guilty smile form on your co-workers face. “Cass, I highly doubt it’s Noah Hanifin. It’s probably just a coincidence that their reservation time coincides with my meeting my soulmate time.” Cassidy gave you a knowing look as she walked away, a small smile on her face.

You were anxious, you couldn’t deny it. Every second that counted down, you were nervous, what if you weren’t good enough for them? What if they were embarrassed it was you? What if... oh god... what if they hated soulmates? What if they were one of those people who was willing to cut the tie, ignore the call, ignore the connection?

You refused to think about that, instead putting yourself to work, clearing the tables and plates of the previous occupants, you waved off the clearing crew, instead choosing to do it yourself. Anything to get your mind off of it. 

The Flames weren't the only occupants of the Chateau tonight, only taking up about half, you were able to still seat other tourists who were interested in the view tonight. 

That’s how you found yourself, 25 minutes later, your hand on your hip as you interacted with the group of rowdy guys in front of you. They were from Edmonton, and they were absolutely hammered. They were as nice as you could expect them to be, continuously flirting your ears off, as they tried to impress you with their... what was it? Accounting job? You couldn’t remember for the life of you, your mind solely stuck on the small number 1 now etched on your wrist. 

You were roused out of your thoughts at the feeling of a hand touching your waist. “C’mon sweetheart, you’re not even paying attention to us here. Take a shot with us, baby!”

You politely removed the offending wrist, a tight smile now etched on your face. “First, I would ask that you please don’t touch me. Second, I was most definitely listening. You boys want another round of beers, and 6 tequila shots. Unfortunately, I don’t believe the shots are the best idea, nor do I think the beer is, but I’ll definitely get you a glass of water.”

Spinning on your heel, you went to walk away but were stopped by the feeling of a hand tightly gripping your wrist, a small squeak falling from your lips.

“We don’t want water.”

“Please get your hand off of me.”

“Get us what I asked for then, bitch.” 

You were about to retort, a vicious snarl on your lips, but your words were caught in your throat as you watched a fist connect to the cheek of the man in front of you, a gasp leaving your throat.

2 minutes

This had to be a joke. He was apparently two minutes away from meeting his soulmate, and here he was, in an orderly fashioned line as him and his teammates made their way into the restaurant. He could barely breath, his pants felt too tight on his hips, he could feel the sweat seeping through his shirt. Thank god he made the choice to wear black. 

It felt like everyone’s eyes were on his, everyone was wearily watching the number on his wrist go down, as the obvious anxieties began to cloud his every thought, action, move... everything.

He tried to take his mind off of it, observing the restaurant as the team slowly made their way to their designated tables. There were a few other patrons, most of them caught up in their own world. One specific table caught his eye, they were a group of rowdy guys, maybe a few years older than him. 

Quite frankly, they looked like all around assholes. Looked like the guys you’d see from Wolf of Wall Street, and from the looks of it, they were really starting to irritate their waitress. Although, all he could see was your back, your posture was unbelievably straight, your hand on your hip as you inventively listened to the guys in front of you.

Matthew continued to watch you, something inside of him telling him that he just couldn’t look away. He had to keep looking. He watched as you turned your body, ready to walk to wherever your destination in mind was, but he instantly zeroed in on the hand that was now tightly wrapped around your wrist, a violent look on the man’s face.

He wasn’t moving on his own accord now, his feet were basically moving by themselves as they raced towards you.

“Get us what I asked for then, bitch.”

His fist was connecting with the other man’s face before he could even think. He heard the gasp from beside him, he watched the number on his wrist hit 0 the exact moment he looked at you, a look of shock on everyone’s faces.

“Chucky!”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m going to call the police you fucking curly-headed fuck.”

He could barely focus on the voices around him. You were here. You were literally right in front of him. Both of your numbers were at 0, he could see it on your wrist. He was literally staring in the eyes of his soulmate.

“Oh my god, you punched one of our guests.” Your voice was like bells to his ear, soft, delicate, everything he wasn’t... but god, you were perfect.

“I’m Matthew, and yes... I uh... I think I did punch one of your guests. I also think you’re my soulmate. Does it count as self-defence... if I punched him in my soulmate’s defence?” 

You laughed, trying to cover it up with your mouth as you watched your manager’s rush towards the now bleeding asshole at the table behind you. 

“I think I like you already, Matthew.”

[carlosreyesazwhump]

K - Kidney damage

K - Kidney damage

Carlos took his bag out of the jeep and looked at the ranch in front of them. It looked a lot like his parents', but Owen had insisted on taking him to one he'd seen on Trip Advisor that they recommended as the best retreat for a weekend.

He'd also made a point of paying for the stay and driving himself.

"He's on edge," TK had told his fiancé the night before.

"Why is he nervous? He knows me well, we see each other every day. I'm the one who should be nervous about going on a trip with Captain Strand, my fiancé's father, on our first outing and on top of that without you."

Saying that had made him nervous.

"Come on, Carlos. You'll see how great everything turns out. He's nervous because it's the first time he's had any kind of relationship with the guy I'm dating and more specifically with my future husband. I'm sure you've had good relationships with your ex's families."

Carlos stared at him silently and gave nothing away.

TK burst out laughing, apparently both Carlos and his father were in the same nervous and uncomfortable situation. He didn't say anything to either of them but was glad he wasn't in the middle of that situation and that they were taking the opportunity to get to know each other better.

"Let him take care of everything. I assure you he's not the type to expect you to do anything or pay for anything. He wants to organize everything, prove he's still the alpha male of the pack."

"Sounds a lot like your father.”

"I know, I know him well. So have fun and don't worry about anything."

Carlos turned around at the sound of Owen's voice from the other side, who was already looking at the phone listing the best places in the area to eat and the best places to visit.

"Let's leave the stuff in the rooms and then we can go for a walk," the captain told him. "I've booked the first contact with the horses in a couple of hours and then we can go eat. I've seen a place that they say has the best beef in Texas. What do you think?"

Carlos smiled and remembered TK's words. His father wanted to get everything organized and under control. So he nodded and let the captain take control of the weekend.

As soon as he got to the room and dropped off his bag, Carlos took the opportunity to call TK and tell him everything was going well, but his boyfriend was working and didn't answer his call. So he left him a message.

"We’re going for a ride with the horses. Your dad seems excited about riding. He doesn't seem to have as much respect for it as you say. I'll tell you later. I love you."

Owen was already waiting for him at the stable, stroking the back of the huge animal he was going to ride.

"Ready to teach him the secrets of a good horseman?"

"Owen, I hope you didn't get your hopes up too high about me. I can ride and I'm not afraid of horses, but I'm no expert."

"Well, you certainly know how to do it a lot better than I do."

Larry, the stable attendant, came over to them and gave them the directions they needed to do their first lesson with their mount. When Carlos told him that he had spent his teenage years riding horses on his parents' ranch, it seemed to lift a weight off Larry's shoulders.

"Well, I see you're not city tourists coming to feel like John Wayne."

"He's not. I... Let's just say John Wayne movies aren't my benchmark," Owen said, looking at Carlos, and he received an appreciative smile. "But yes, the world of cowboys and the idea of freedom of riding a horse has always appealed to me and terrified me in equal parts."

"Better to go with someone who knows, then."

Riding was easy, it wasn't the first time Owen had done it and getting going wasn't a complication either.

Larry told them to take a ride around to get a feel for the animals, that horses get used to them. He also told them that a good horse ride gave plenty of opportunity to talk.

They didn't do it at first. They were both nervous, it was the first time they were alone and not because of work, not with TK in the way or Carlos' parents.

They were completely alone taking a walk in their hair for the rest of the afternoon and neither of them were very clear on what to say or how to behave with the other.

So for a while, they were silent and simply rode around the meadow.

"TK and I are organizing the wedding, what a mess we've gotten ourselves into and we wanted something small," Carlos said at last, trying to end the awkward silence.

"I know you want to do this by yourselves, but you know you can count on me for whatever it takes. I'm good at organizing things and I know a lot of people around here."

"I know, I know. But we want to keep the wedding small, intimate, and not get out of hand."

Owen pulled his horse closer to Carlos'.

"I promise I won't butt in where I'm not wanted. I'll only do something if you ask for my help."

"Sorry, I didn't mean it to sound like that. TK and I are really nervous about all this because we don't have as much time as we'd like to organize things and go to stores."

"For whatever you guys need," Owen muttered and laughed.

He pulled on his horse's reins with a jerk that startled his mount a little. The animal whirled to the right and whinnied and startled the horse Carlos was riding, which reared up for a few seconds, long enough to lift its front legs in the air without Carlos expecting it and before he could do anything it threw him to the ground.

"Carlos!" shouted Owen as he saw him fall and roll on the ground.

He caught the other horse, tied them to a tree, and ran to Carlos.

The cop struggles to find his next breath, the landing having knocked the wind out of him and puts his hand to his head.

"Carlos, Carlos, say something."

Keep Reading on AO3

[barbecuebabybackribs]

Jasper Hale having a male mate would include:

Alice saw you coming but she didn’t see who was coming

He was resistant at first, partially because you were very human and he was afraid of hurting you, also because he had never courted a man

Not that it would stop him

After getting over the initial shock he would be a proper gentleman

He’d walk you to class, sit with you at lunch, offer to drive you home

He even switched his schedule around so he could sit with you at English- although if you asked it was pure coincidence

Constantly asks you questions about yourself, and answers your questions as honestly as he can without exposing the big secret

He takes things much slower then Edward did with Bella

It was months until he confessed his feelings for you and asked you out

Speaking of which the first time he felt your emotions and felt you crushing on him- took everything in him not to confess right there in class

Your first date he took you to a movie- due to Edward tipping him off there was a new horror movie you’d been really wanting to see

During the movie there was one jump scare that made you flinch and grab his arm- that along with the slight increase in your heart beat, he was fighting off a laugh for the rest of the night

Get’s extremely nervous at the thought of telling you he’s a vampire

Actually starts avoiding you when his family starts to pressure him into telling you

Ends up telling you during one of your very common late night phone calls

You think he’s joking at first but he proves it by running sonic speed at you

You scream

He gets very insecure for a few minutes before you assure him you only screamed because the sight of someone running at you as fast as a bullet was terrifying- not because you were scared of him

You bombard him with a million questions after that- he answers each and every one

You bring up the bite marks on his arms and he explains how he fought in the southern vampire turf wars with maria

“Oh, I just thought you were kinky”

“Y/N!”

Take’s you out the next sunny day to show you what he looks like in the sun

Can’t help but smile when he feels a sudden surge of excitement when he steps in the sun

“You’re so Handsome!”

“You’re not to bad yourself”

You spend a few hours just talking and walking around- he shows you some of his favorite parts the forest that you had never known existed

Introduces you to his family later that day, they all love you- except for Rosalie

But she warms up to you eventually

You go awhile without having your first kiss, both to nervous to scare the other one off

Jasper gets enough confidence to go for it when you press a soft kiss to his cheek, he grabs your waist before you can pull away and pulls you into a quick kiss

He lets you pull away, thinking he might have taken it to far for a moment

He’s delightfully surprised when you go in back in for another kiss- relishing in the mix of excitement and love radiating off of you

Goes home with a bit more pep in his step- which does not go unnoticed by Edward and Alice

Subtle PDA all the time, hands on your thigh, a hand on the small of your back, interlocked hands, an occasional peck on the cheek.

Never initiates a kiss in public but is more then willing to kiss you back if you make the first move\

Way to nervous to have sex with you while you’re still human

Once Jessica Stanley made a homophobic comment about you and him, he never admitted it but she may have been hit with a sudden wave of negative emotion causing her to run out of the room- tail in between her legs

Some one is hitting on you and making you uncomfortable? You feel two strong arm wrap around you and pull you close, not needing to turn around to know it’s Jasper.

“Hello Darling, Is everything alright?” He’d say in a sweet time but his eyes were staring daggers into whoever was flirting with you

“It is now that you’re here, Jazz.”

Calls you Darling, Hun, Sweetheart, ect. Basically anything but your name

If your parents are homophobic he makes sure to wait until your ready to tell them- if they handle it badly he uses his power as some extra convincing

Jasper is a bit of overprotective bit tries to respect your decisions

Jasper always tries to reassure you when you’re insecure about your relationship without using his powers on you once you express your dislike to it

The only reason he turns you is because the Volturi says if he doesn’t they’ll kill you

Although Jasper make’s sense your 100% alright with it

Makes Carlisle turn you in fear he won’t be able to stop

If he could cry he would have when he heard your cries of pain as  the venom courses threw your veins

The whole house goes still when your hearts finally stops beating and you fall silent

On the third day Jasper is anxious that you won’t wake up, the only sound in the room is his foot nervously tapping the ground

“Jas... Jasper?”

His golden eyes shoot up to your now crimson ones

“Hello Sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

“...Weird.”

He helps you up and for a moment he only holds you in his arms, finally not needing to hold back his strength

Lets out a laugh when you hug him back a little to roughly

“Careful Darling, your not the weak one anymore.”

“Bitch please, I was never weak.”

That earned another laugh

He helped you adjust  to your new life as a vampire

and helped your mourn your old life

Although you struggle he is impressed by your self control

And is slightly envious

Everyone thinks you have no power

Until you touch Jasper on the shoulder and he jumps- surprised by the random image of the first time you had kissed vividly plays in his mind

Turns out you have the power Visual Projection like Zafrina from the Amazon coven

They actually enlist Zafrina’s help to train you

Jasper is more then thrilled at your talent, loving the fact that you can not only project your memories but others if they grant you access

After a month of you being a newborn Jasper physically can not hold back anymore

He whisks you away to a small cabin in Canada- under the guise of a reward for doing so well as a newborn

But when you get  there you pick up on why you’re truly there

Soft Kisses turn into hungry kisses, soft touches to the back of your neck turn into hands exploring every part of you

Let’s just say it’s a good thing your away from the rest of the family- and anyone else for the matter

You rest your head on his chest afterward, Jasper has a smug grin on his face just by feeling the emotions washing over you

You too spend an eternity together, protecting each other no matter what and savoring every last moment with each other

And for the first time in a long time, Jasper is truly happy

Uhm so this may have gotten away from me a bit.... but I’m trying to get back into writing so I decided why not write some of the ideas in my head? I hope at least some of you enjoyed :) Stay Safe everyone