#and also her husband thought i was faking breaking bones to get out of his class

[a-walking-fandom-reference]

watching carrie with my mom has just had us going down memory lane of how shit my teachers were when i was in elementary/middle school…

[yaymiyas]

THE HUSBAND

warning: female reader, saer being….saer, yan!isekai!crown prince

a/n: i was so burnt out so lets see what i come up with ….its short ik and yes im cooking up something w cynthia LET ME COOK 🫡🙄🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯

the idea of divorce was swimming in the mist of your mind hours before you regained most of the movement in your body. you knew you had to get out of this situation in a peaceful but quick manner. in your mind, leaving saer should have been easy since he hated edina more than the devil himself. he saw her as a shit stain satan left on earth to torture him for all of his days. so why are tears running down his face…thats odd? from all of the tweets, forums, and blogs saer had close to no emotions for edina. he hated her through and through. in the original story, he would’ve cheered of joy if she simply asked to part ways. so why was he sitting in front of you crying? was the bacon too salty? was he remembering the good ol’ times with his late father? ever since you’ve transmigrated into this story, everything has been so weird. aside from you being close to perfectly fine after being fed poison, saer has became more careful.

in the book, saer was close to a bubbling idiot. every single assassination attempt was stopped by a maid because he was stupid. he always played it as cynthia and amanda favoring edina but that wasnt the full truth. he was just too obvious with everything he was doing. you actually kind of felt back for the dummy, no wonder gracie wants nothing to do with him. regardless of any of that, you actually started to feel a bit bad for him. it was obvious saer didnt know why he was crying or how to stop it by the way his face was balled up in red confusion. maybe it was out of guilt or for the plot, either way you wanted to help him. maybe he wanted to kill you but seeing a grown man cry really did break your heart.

“now, saer..”

gently pushing your hand out to cover his larger ones, you put on a voice of concern. you want to help the poor idiot but you also want to get out of this house alive. maybe playing the sweet docile wife could do you some good, maybe—

“ugh, stupid bitch get off of me.”

slapping your hand off of his, saer attempted to keep a face of pure disgust plastered for you to see. why on earth was he crying, and why on earth are you being so off-putting? at first, your new actions didnt really bother him. were they different? yes, but they weren’t unpleasant. but now...it was as if the poison made you utterly indifferent to his presence, which he told himself he loved, but the lord knows thats a lie. you quietly sitting there, dry-face, with a slight frown and uninterested body language, angered him. saer was crying purely for reactions. he thought that crying would help him close this conversation and make you jump up and beg for his forgiveness, but no. all you did was lift your grimly, beastly fingers to ‘comfort’ him. what a joke of a woman.

“im finished with my breakfast”

the scream of the chair was louder than your own thoughts, kicking you out of your own subconscious. what even was that about? you were TRYING to be the version of edina you thought he would like, second from you killing yourself right there and then. so why was he acting like you were trying to jump his bones? he is such a wicked man….such a sad excuse of a person. its such a shame his attitude is so sour, you were going to try to soften his walls to see if he would lighten up on the poisoning situation. how did he get it? who did he get it from?

“madam,”

lightly placing her hand on your shoulder, cynthia appeared. scaring you out of your thoughts, you straightened your back and put on the best fake smile you could. you knew cynthia didnt really care for you, as demonstrated by the bath she gave you earlier, but you thought that maybe you could melt this ice queen. her soft ginger coils shaped her face in all the right places, giving her olive skin the type of glow women in the real world would kill for. she had green eyes to match alone with it, making it easy to find yourself lost in them. cynthia was a beautiful woman; just how did she become a maid for this jackass?

“his royal highness has ordered for you to be sent to your room.”

[ynscrazylife]

ok, this is a weirdly specific request BUT- y/n was/is an avenger and a close friend of Wanda’s and had an unrequited crush on Steve and unfortunately happens to also be in Westview when Wanda makes the Hex and unintentionally makes a fake Steve that’s married to y/n; so then either it could be y/n realizing this isn’t her real life or Wanda realizing what she’s done when y/n and Steve visit?

Fix This | s.r & w.m (platonic) angst fic

Summary: Y/N had an unrequited crush on Steve. Wanda realizes she’s made a grave mistake when Y/N and Steve show up in Westview, happy and “in love” - supposedly.

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Wanda Maximoff Taglist: @madamevirgo

A/N: Thank you for requesting!

Request to be on a Taglist (or multiple) here!

MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2 | Main Masterlist

header c/ @/marvelocks

After coming back from being snapped and mourning Vision and Natasha, Y/N found herself on a quest to find her friend, teammate, and the guy she had had a crush on: Steve Rogers. She walked around, almost aimlessly, having gotten vague answers from her teammates and friends as to where he was. After all this time, Y/N was finally going to do it. She was going to tell Steve how she felt.

“Hey, Sam?” Y/N called out as she spotted her friend, who was sitting next to Bucky, neither of them talking, and since Y/N was coming up from behind them, she didn’t see the frowns on their faces.

Bucky grunted and stood up. He quite literally gave Y/N the cold shoulder as he passed, his face displaying little emotion, and Y/N suddenly gained a sinking feeling in her stomach - this couldn’t be good. 

When Sam turned around, not bothering to cover his distressed and disappointed face, Y/N forced back a gulp. “Sam?” She asked, her voice cracking. He was her best friend - he knew about her crush on Steve. 

“When he returned the stones, he went back in time . . . to be with Peggy,” Sam reveled, not meeting her eyes. 

The impact of this made Y/N stumble back as she scrunched up her face. “W-what? No . . . I . . . No, no!” She said as she tried to process this, shaking her head in disbelief. Dizziness swept over her and Y/N had to turn around. 

He was gone . . . proving that he didn’t share her feelings. Y/N took deep breaths, hugging herself. God, she had fallen in love with a man who loved another woman.

“You’re looking quite handsome, Vis,” Wanda remarked, smiling through her words as she entered their bedroom only to see Vision in his human form, fixing his tie and wearing a dashing black suit, hair neatly combed. 

Vision chuckled and glanced at his wife through the mirror. She had just finished her make-up and was wearing a short yet pretty and puffy black dress to match his suit, having curled her hair. “And you look stunning,” Vision replied, a smile playing on his lips before he leaned back to share a quick kiss with Wanda. 

Wanda grinned, standing beside him as they faced the mirror. “It really is nice of Agnes to host a get-together so we can meet the neighbors,” she said, admiring and playing with her hair. 

Vision nodded. “Well, we mustn’t be late!” He declared in agreement, making them both giggle as Wanda got her purse to leave. 

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

“We are only waiting on one couple-” Agnes said as she brought out plates of snacks for her guests to munch on, but was interrupted by the sound of a doorbell, which made her nearly drop the plate. “Oh! That’ll be them! I’ll go get it.” 

Wanda nodded from her seat on Agnes’ couch where she was next to Vision and took the plate from her brunette friend, placing it carefully on the table. She and Vision made small talk with some of their other neighbors until Wanda heard footsteps appoaching and looked over. 

As soon as she spotted the guests who had just arrived, she froze. It was . . . Holy shit, it was Y/N and Steve! Wanda’s eyes widened, quickly trying to think. They weren’t dead! How were they here?! She stretched her mind to gather the memories she had suppressed when she created Westview. 

Oh, God, Y/N had been with Wanda when she went to see the house Vision had been planning to buy for them! When she created Westview, her power must have accidentally hit her friend. As for Steve . . . She had wanted to give herself and the townspeople the live they desired, and with Y/N still being heartbroken over their former and fallen teammate, Wanda must’ve subconsciously gave Y/N what she would make her happy . . . Steve, in love with her. 

“And this is Vision and Wanda!” Agnes’ cheerful voice drew her out of her thoughts, making the redhead look up, only to see Y/N staring at her, curiously. 

Wanda put on her best fake smile, although she was sure that that didn’t cover her uneasiness. “It’s so nice to meet you,” she said to the oblivious Steve and confused Y/N, the fake-ness oozing out of her sticky-sweet voice. 

They spent the rest of the evening barely chatting, Wanda occupying herself with the other guests, but being unable to stop Vision from gladly talking their ears off. Wanda didn’t think she was going to be able to hold a conversation with her formerly dead, now young gain teammate and her brainwashed and skeptical friend without her powers bursting. Did that stop her from looking over at Steve. Y/N, and Vision every five minutes? No, and it did not help her to conceal her secret (thankfully she didn’t notice Agnes’ mischievous smirk, though). 

The redhead managed throughout the entire dinner and when she stayed behind to help Agnes clean up, that’s when it all went downhill. 

“W-Wanda?”

That voice sent a chill that racked Wanda’s bones, making her freeze in the midst of scrubbing dishes. She squeezed her eyes close for a moment as a horrible feeling that Y/N somehow knew everything washed over her. She forced herself to turn around and smile, doing her best to ignore how Y/N drew her eyes together, her tears bubbling in her eyes which highlighted the absolute anguish in them, and how she trembled, mouth parted. 

“Yes, dear?” Wanda said in a far too high tone of voice. 

Y/N slowly changed, her lips turning into a frown and her cheeks burning red. “Wanda,” she repeated, this time pointed, and the feeling settled unkindly in Wanda. 

She spared a hasty glance at Agnes who was oblivious to the whole exchange, humming and swaying while she dried the dishes, and quickly walked forward, taking Y/N by the harm harsher than intended and pulling her into a room. 

The second Wanda closed the door and turned around, Y/N let out an unsteady, “What the fuck are you doing?!” Her arms were crossed and she was glaring intensely. 

Wanda let out a breath. “How do you remember?” She asked, ignoring her friends question. 

"I’m a fucking Avenger. I managed to fight off you in my head,” she answered, this time more calm which made her more scary. 

Wanda forced herself to soften, shaking from the harsh impact of the words. She took a few deep breaths to calm her powers which she could feel was beginning rise in her body. “I-I never meant for this to happen - I mean, I suppose subconsciously I did - but I never meant for it to include you,” she attempted to explain, feeling the weight of all of this beginning to crumble underneath her. 

Y/N recoiled in pain, narrowing her eyes at Wanda, biting her lip, and shaking her head. “Why did you give me a fake life with Steve? Why did you do this to me?” She asked, heartbroken and doing her best to tamper down her emotions. 

Wanda sighed, trying to clear her head. “I wanted to make everyone happy! I must have thought that Steve loving you would make you happy so it manifested itself in my powers and-” 

Y/N cut off her off. “The only person you made happy is yourself. You know how difficult it was to break you from my mind? Do you know how much it hurt? You need to fix this,” she gestured to her and Wanda, indicating their friendship. “You need to fix Westview.” 

With that, she walked out of the room, leaving Wanda stunned, only accompanied by har racing thoughts and clouding emotions. When Steve walked towards her with that bright smile and went to kiss her, Y/N burst into tears and bolted, her “husband” running after her, and Agnes smirking as purple  mist swirled around the dishes, washing and drying them.

[earliebirb]

Hey, I hope you are having a nice day. If you're taking any asks, may I request for a cuddly needy Steve insisting on being close to Tony all the time. Like not letting him out of bed in the morning or making Tony sit on his lap during movie nights. That kinda stuff. Please, please consider writing this one. Thank you!

Hello, Anon. Thank you for the prompt. Cuddly and needy Steve is my favorite.

Have some tooth-rotting fluff in honor of my birthday! 🎂🥳🎉

keep me warm

steve/tony, fluff, established relationship, 4015 words

Steve will take any and every opportunity to touch and be as physically close as possible to his husband, thank you very much.

(Or, five times Steve demonstrates that physical touch is very much his love language and one time Tony seeks him out for it.)

(1)

Tony wakes to the sunlight shining in his face. He groans, instinctively hiding his face back in his pillow. The light feels too warm and bright for early morning sun and a quick glance at the digital clock sitting on his nightstand confirms his suspicions: It’s ten minutes to eleven.

Upon seeing the date and time on the clock, the first thought that crosses his mind is of the numerous tasks he has to finish that day. He sighs a long, drawn-out, and heavy sigh. He hasn’t been feeling his best for the past few days and he has the horrifying suspicion that even his ultra-workaholic self is teetering on the edge of a full-fledged burnout. Between SHIELD, Stark Industries, and the Avengers, he has no shortage of work to do. This is definitely not the time for burnout. His only saving grace for the day is the fact that Pepper has allowed him to come in the afternoon. 

Closing his eyes, he relishes the brief yet sweet escape from reality, pretending just for a few moments that his day is blissfully empty. The work seems never-ending. The only reason he is in bed at all is because Steve had coaxed Tony to come to bed, complaining about how cold he was and steadfastly refusing to sleep without Tony in his arms. 

After a few minutes, he resigns himself to the harsh reality of a busy day and moves to roll out of bed. Except the minute he tries to do so, his body moves further back toward the center of the bed instead of the opposite. Tony blinks at the arm tucked firmly around his middle. A warm weight is plastered against his back, a puff of breath tickling his ear. 

“Steve?”

He gets a short hum in reply, rising at the end in intonation.

“It’s eleven.”

Tony gets another sleepy hum and Steve burrows closer, the cold tip of his nose tucked behind Tony’s ear.

“Why are you still in bed? Did you come back to bed after your run?”

A quiet sigh, and then Steve’s gravelly voice is in Tony’s ear: “Never went.”

“What? Why?”

“Missed you.”

Tony’s lips quirk up into a small smile without his permission. “I never went anywhere, baby.”

“You’ve been busy.”

“Sorry, honey. Work gets crazy this time of the year.”

Steve hums again, lips resting against the back of Tony’s neck.

“And I’m really sorry, baby, but I have to go. More work awaits.”

“No,” Steve mutters decisively, throwing a leg over Tony’s body and pulling him in. 

Tony snorts, amused. “No?”

“No work. You’re mine for the day,” Steve grumbles, arm curling tighter around Tony’s stomach.

Tony strokes the arm Steve has around him soothingly. “Pepper’s going to have my head if I don’t check off at least half the things on my to-do-list today. You want your husband to stay alive, don’t you?”

“I’ve told Pepper to give you the day off.”

“You told Pepper to give me the day off? And she agreed, just like that?”

There is a period of silence, and then:

“There may have been… some flowers involved. And some cupcakes and… bagels sent to her office, along with a—” Steve breaks off to yawn. “A very sweet and carefully worded handwritten note.”

Tony pauses. Then he gasps. 

Turning around in Steve’s arms to take a proper look at him, the ends of Tony’s lips are tugged upwards in a disbelieving grin. 

“Did you— Did Captain America commit an act of bribery?”

Steve frowns, squinting at Tony, sleep still heavy in his eyes. “It wasn’t bribery. It was… a gesture of appreciation.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. Steve stares back at him.

Eventually, Steve sighs in defeat. Tony’s grin widens.

“Fine,” Steve grumbles, shuffling closer to bury his face in Tony’s chest, “it was bribery.”

Tony chuckles, running his fingers through Steve’s soft blond locks. 

“Captain. What would the people say?”

When Steve speaks, his muffled voice comes out rough and near incoherent, speech slurred groggily. “Captain America condemns bribery.” He lets out a content sigh, body melting further into Tony’s. “Steven Stark-Rogers, on the other hand, is not above bribery to get his husband a much-needed day off.”

Tony grins helplessly at his husband’s unfairly adorable antics, leaning down to nuzzle the top of Steve’s head fondly.

“What a menace you are, Mr. Stark-Rogers.”

His husband lets out another noncommittal hum that Tony feels against the bare skin of his chest.

“Go back to sleep, Mr. Stark-Rogers,” Steve mumbles. Tony closes his eyes obediently, slipping back into slumber with ease, a smile on his lips and a newfound lightness in his bones. 

(2)

The sun is shining brightly up in the clear blue sky. The farmers market is bustling with life, with people visiting various tents stationed along the long stretch of road, each offering a variety of fresh produce as well as various finger foods and cold beverages.

The road is also lined by trees on either side, their towering height allowing their leaves and branches to form a natural canopy high up above, effectively shielding people from the sun’s scorching heat. There is even a gentle summer breeze that blows every now and then.

All in all, it’s a wonderful summer day, perfect for an outdoor date.

Now, if only Tony’s husband would stop ruining the day by being a stubborn bastard.

“Steve, this is getting ridiculous.”

“What?”

“Give me a bag!”

“You have a bag.” Steve nods at the bag of red apples Tony is carrying.

Of course, that is nothing compared to the four bags of produce Steve is carrying. He even refuses to distribute the weight evenly between his two hands, insisting on carrying all four bags with one hand and using his other hand to hold Tony’s instead. He tries to reach around Steve in an attempt to grab one of the bags, grunting in frustration when Steve moves the bags beyond his reach. “Steve, your arm’s going to fall off. Just— Give some to me.”

“Tony, your shoulder just barely healed.”

“It’s completely healed. It’s fine, Steve. Just—”

Tony reaches for the bags again only for Steve to catch his arm and bring it back down. “I’ll be fine, sweetheart. I’m a supersoldier.”

“You do not get to pull the supersoldier card right now.”

“Why not?”

“Steven, let me hold some of the bags.”

“You want something to hold? Fine, I’ll give you something to hold.”

Steve reaches for Tony’s arm and secures it around his own waist. Tony glares up at his husband and removes his arm from said waist with a sigh. 

“Come on—”

Letting out an abrupt grunt and doubling over dramatically, Steve clutches his own waist and fakes a pained expression. “Oh, why is my waist suddenly so heavy?”

“Steve, that doesn’t even make any sense—”

“Oh, God. So, so heavy. If only my husband were around to help me hold it—”

Tony rolls his eyes, slipping his arm back around Steve’s waist.

Pulling Tony closer so that he is pressed flush against his side, Steve beams at him, smile bright as the sun. “I feel a lot better now. Thank you.”

He leans down to kiss the tip of Tony’s nose. Tony wrinkles his nose, but he is determined to not let his glare falter.

“Ugh, I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

(3)

“Tony.”

Steve’s face falls the second he sees Tony walking into the study. Somehow, Steve has managed to infuse an impressive amount of frustration into the two syllables making up Tony’s name. 

Tony freezes after having taken a few steps into the room, wide eyes blinking in bewilderment and a mug of hot tea in his hand. He racks his brain to figure out whatever sin he has committed to make Steve’s face crumple up like that—sandy brows furrowed and the edges of his lip tugged down into a displeased frown.

Coming up with nothing, he pads over quietly to the desk and sets the mug of Steve’s afternoon tea down on an empty space between a wooden penholder and a Stark Industries memo pad. Looking up at Tony from his seat in the plush leather office chair, Steve’s frown deepens.

Tony takes a few steps backward, hands raised in surrender.

“Whatever it is I did wrong, I’m sorry, and it’s one hundred percent my fault. Look, I even brought you a peace offering. A cup of tea to make you feel all warm and cozy?” Tony flashes him a wide, placating grin, gesturing to the mug sitting on the desk. Never mind that Tony has been bringing Steve his tea everyday for years now.

Not even sparing a glance at the mug of steaming English Breakfast, Steve stands up wordlessly.

Slowly, Steve begins walking toward him, eyes on Tony and frown still in place.

“What? I said I’m sorry.” 

Steve continues to walk toward him and Tony continues to walk backward until he feels his back hitting the wall.

“Honey, please—”

Slumping forward, Steve buries his face in the crook of Tony’s neck with a grunt, hands coming to rest on Tony’s waist.

“...Honey?”

“How am I supposed to get any work done if you walk around the house dressed like this?” Steve whines.

“What—” Tony blinks, looking down at his own attire—or rather, the lack thereof. Having just woken up from a nap, he is dressed only in his boxer briefs. A laugh bubbles up his throat, his entire body shaking with it. “Steven.”

“Don’t you ‘Steven’ me,” Steve grumbles.

“I don’t walk like this around the house all the time. I just woke up, honey.” Tony chuckles, hand coming up to bury his fingers in Steve’s hair, massaging his scalp lightly. “Go and finish your paperwork.”

“You can’t expect me to get any work done after seeing you like this,” Steve says, almost mournfully, nuzzling the delicate spot under Tony’s ear and sending a shiver down Tony’s spine. 

“Shut up, you sweet talker. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before. Also, you have to finish your paperwork. We have dinner plans, remember?”

“Can we cancel dinner?” Steve asks hopefully. He runs his index finger along the boxer briefs’ elastic waistband and Tony squirms, ever ticklish.

“We can’t, darling,” Tony says, soft and apologetic even as he grins. “We’ve cancelled on Carol and honeybear twice already. They’ll kill us if we cancel on them again, especially if the only reason we’re doing it is because you can’t keep your hands off of me.”

“Your fault for walking around naked.”

“I’m not naked.”

“I can get you naked.” Steve slips his thumbs under the waistband and Tony grabs his wrists, stopping him before things can truly escalate.

“Nope,” Tony says with a breathless giggle, squeezing his eyes shut and resolutely ignoring the delicious curl of heat in the pit of his stomach. “Dinner plans.”

Steve lets out a defeated sigh, stepping back with a pout. “I hate it when you’re being responsible.”

The sight brings a fond smile to Tony’s face and he hooks his fingers under Steve’s chin to drag him into a soft, languid kiss.

“Please,” Tony says before planting another kiss on his husband’s jawline, “you love me.”

“I do, sweetheart,” Steve whispers, blue eyes gazing down at him softly. “I really, really do.”

(4)

When Tony walks into the art studio and sees the floor littered with paintings of different shapes and sizes, he whistles.

“Look at you go, Picasso.”

Steve turns to him, brush in hand, face lighting up like a Christmas tree. There’s a streak of blue paint across his cheek that Tony is tempted not to tell him about.

“Picasso?” The sunlight streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the studio illuminates the entire room. From the doorway, Steve’s blond hair gleams golden.

Tony winces as he steps into the room. “Sorry, did I miss the mark completely? Art’s always been more of Pepper’s thing.” Steve grins, easy and bright. “I know.”

Over the years, Pepper and Steve have cultivated a monthly routine of sorts. They have a standing date—sans Tony—whenever Pepper comes over to visit. Bonding over Tony’s antics and the intricacies of fine art, they get along pretty well, much to Tony’s surprise and delight.

Tony tiptoes cautiously around the studio, taking extra care not to step on any of the paintings Steve has laid out to dry. When seen from up above, the wooden floor of the studio would probably look like some rendition of abstract art, the vibrant colors on the different paintings lying on it coming together to form another picture altogether.

He finally manages to make his way to where Steve is sitting, stationed in front of an easel carrying a piece of stretched canvas which has been painted with streaks of red and gold. He looks around and frowns at Steve. “There’s no place to sit. There’s barely any place to stand.”

Steve looks around to confirm Tony’s observation and laughs sheepishly. “Sorry, guess I got carried away.”

The art studio is always in some state of disarray and it drives Tony up the wall sometimes, if he were being honest.

“But there’s always a place for you to sit, sweetheart,” Steve croons, voice all soft and honey sweet. He curls an arm around Tony’s waist and draws him closer, fingers stained with dried paint of different colors resting on the small of his back. Steve nuzzles his stomach and plants a feather-light kiss on the spot just below his sternum. He looks up at Tony with a child-like grin. “Come sit on my lap?”

“Sap,” Tony remarks, but proceeds to sit down sideways on Steve’s lap, his legs perpendicular to Steve’s. Spotting the smears of colorful paint staining the floor and the painting supplies scattered all around the studio, Tony clucks his tongue in disapproval. “You know this is going to take forever to clean up, right?”

Steve’s grin widens and he starts trailing kisses along the column of Tony’s neck. “Maybe this was all part of an elaborate plan to get you to sit on my lap.”

Tony snorts. 

“I highly doubt that.”

(5)

“Sweetheart?”

“Hm?” Tony’s eyes are glued to his armor as he circles it to inspect the damage from all angles, the suit looking slightly worse for wear. Nothing that a little tinkering and a new paint job won’t fix, but the real problem lies within. He had experienced a brief glitch with his right repulsor mid-battle and he is hoping that he will be able to pinpoint the source of the problem immediately after JARVIS finishes running diagnostics.

“Come here for a second?”

Tony walks to where Steve is lying down on the workshop couch, long legs stretched out comfortably along its length. He beckons Tony closer.

“Come here, I need to tell you something,” he whispers, like someone who is about to divulge a monumental secret.

Tony bends down obediently. Steve reaches up to cup Tony’s cheeks in his hands, leaning close until their noses are brushing against each other.

“You look really good in a tank top.”

The corner of Tony’s mouth jerks upward in an amused smile. “You just called me over to say that?”

“Well, no. I also wanted to do this.” Steve promptly hooks his arms and legs around Tony and pulls him down.

Letting out a surprised yelp, Tony lands on top of Steve’s body. Steve grins smugly before tilting his head to growl playfully in his ear. “Caught you. You’re trapped now. Good luck escaping.”

Tony tests Steve’s hold. Steve’s limbs tighten their hold in response. Hiding a smile in Steve’s chest even as he sighs, Tony says:

“Steven, darling, love of my life. As much as I’m enjoying this, I’m afraid that my broken armor isn’t going to fix itself.”

“Shhh,” Steve whispers into his hair, “you look tired. You deserve a break.”

“Baby—”

“Okay, okay. And maybe, I just wanted to hold my husband for a moment. Can we stay like this for a while? Give me one minute.” Steve plants a kiss on the top of his head. “Please?”

“...Okay. One minute. Start the countdown.”

“Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight…” Steve begins. 

Tony allows himself the luxury of melting into Steve’s arms, relishing the way the solid warmth of Steve’s hold squeezes the tension out of his own muscles.

“Fifty, forty-nine, forty-eight…” Steve’s warm breath tickles Tony’s forehead as he continues to count down. 

“Forty, thirty-nine, thirty-eight…” Eyes closed, Tony focuses on Steve’s voice and the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. 

They stay like that for a while, both of them calm and content, Steve’s hushed voice counting down the seconds the only sound in the room. Time passes by slowly and too quickly at the same time, and the next thing Tony knows, Steve has reached the final ten seconds.

“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five…”

Then Steve turns quiet. Tony waits, but when Steve doesn’t continue the countdown, he looks up. His husband is already gazing at him, face looking deceitfully innocent.

“Honey?”

“Hm?” Steve says distractedly as he caresses Tony’s right eyebrow with the pad of his thumb. 

“You stopped counting.”

“Oh. Did I?” Steve asks, still maintaining his ridiculous charade. “Sorry, sweetheart. You know how forgetful I am.” His thumb migrates down to Tony’s bottom lip, as does the gaze of his blue eyes. “I am a centenarian, after all. My memory is just not what it used to be.”

Tony sighs fondly. “Continue the count, please.”

“Will do, sweetheart.” Steve smiles. “Thirty…”

“Five.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You stopped at five.”

“I did?” Steve’s smile widens, leaning forward to capture Tony’s lips in a kiss.

“I know what you’re doing,” Tony says against Steve’s lips.

When Steve leans back, his face is all confusion. His blue eyes, however, are teeming with mischief. “And what is it that I’m doing? I told you, sweetheart, I’m just a very forgetful person.”

Tony rolls his eyes before resting his head back on Steve’s chest. 

“Let’s go, soldier.” He pats the side of Steve’s thigh. “Start with five.”

“Sir, yes, Sir. Five, four, three and a half, three…”

“What the—”

“Two and a half, two…”

Tony pokes him in the side.

“One and three-quarters…”

Giving up, Tony breaks into laughter. “Honey.”

“One and a half, one and a quarter, and…”

“Uno. Okay, good job, Captain. Let me go now.” Tony tries to wriggle his way out of Steve’s hold, but Steve’s limbs remain unyielding.

“Shhh. Zero,” Steve whispers. And then:

“Minus one…”

“Steve, no!”

Laughing gleefully, Steve finally releases Tony. “Okay, okay. I’m letting go.”

Tony extricates himself from Steve’s hold. Steve glides his fingers along Tony’s arm as he does—determined to get his fill of physical contact until the very last second—and it ends with him catching Tony’s wrist just before Tony is about to stand.

His warm blue eyes hold Tony’s gaze as he brings said wrist to his mouth, pressing a lingering kiss to the pulse point. Something warm unfurls in Tony’s chest at the way Steve’s every movement screams of his reluctance to let Tony go. 

“Meet me for dinner later?” Steve whispers against his skin.

“Of course, baby. Wouldn’t miss date night for anything,” Tony promises.

With that, Steve lets Tony’s wrist go with a sigh before throwing an arm over his own eyes.

“Now go. Before I change my mind.”

Tony leaves, snickering all the while at his husband’s dramatics.

(+1)

“I need a hug. And a kiss. And I need you to tell me that you love me.”

It has taken years for Tony to be entirely comfortable with asking for affection in such a blatant way, but over time he has learned that doing so—actually communicating his needs and wants—has actually done wonders for their relationship. He desperately needs some loving at the moment—the end-result of a long day of all work, no play, and the worst of all: no Steve.

Plus, there is also the fact that Steve always turns all soft and happy without fail whenever Tony does ask for some affection. 

Steve blinks and turns his head around from where he is crouched in front of the oven, waiting not-so-patiently for his mac and cheese to finish baking. At the sight of Tony sitting atop the kitchen counter, legs swinging lightly and eyes staring back at him expectantly, a slow smile blooms on his face. He stands up and makes his way to Tony. 

Enveloping Tony in his arms, Steve presses his lips to Tony’s temple. Tony scoots forward and wraps his arms around Steve’s broad shoulders, locking his ankles around his husband’s waist like a koala on a tree. 

Pulling back slightly to plant a kiss on the corner of Tony’s mouth, Steve cradles his jaw, thumb rubbing his cheek affectionately. “I love you, sweetheart. So much.”

Then he pulls Tony close again, gently placing Tony’s face back in the crook of his neck. Steve rests his head against Tony’s and sways their joined bodies together slightly from side to side, humming a slow love song that Tony knows he has been listening to repeatedly for the past week. 

Tony inhales and lets Steve’s comforting scent fill his lungs, a mix of his coconut-scented body wash and the laundry detergent they share together. It smells a lot like home. 

For the first time since he woke up in the morning, Tony’s day is finally looking up. 

“This is nice,” Tony mumbles tiredly into Steve’s shoulder. 

Steve hums sympathetically, gradually stopping their swaying. His hand comes up to massage the back of Tony’s neck. “Rough day?”

“Something like that.”

“You did a great job today.” Steve’s fingers are still pressing into his neck in slow, circular motions. “You worked very hard at the office. I love you.”

Lips brushing Steve’s neck as he speaks, he says, “You don’t know that. You weren’t there.”

“There are some things that I just know. For example, my husband worked hard today. My husband did an excellent job today.”

Tony snorts.

“Here’s another example. I didn’t see you at all today, but I knew, I just knew that my husband looked beautiful today.” Steve pulls back, cupping Tony’s cheeks and looking down at him. “And would you look at that,” Steve says, voice hushed with something akin to awe, “I was right after all.”

Tony squeezes his eyes shut. “You are so corny,” he says, in the hopes that his remark would distract Steve from his burning cheeks. Years of being married to Steve and the man can still make Tony blush like no other. He just doesn’t understand how Steve can make all these sappy declarations sound so sincere, so genuine. Like he’s just stating an indisputable truth.

“I am also so very right. You are beautiful.”

“Corny.” Tony keeps his eyes shut.

“Beautiful,” Steve whispers in his ear, warm breath tickling his skin. A fleeting kiss is planted on Tony’s cheek. 

For a few seconds, nothing happens. Hesitantly, Tony opens his eyes. He is greeted by the sight of Steve bending down slightly to meet his eye level, hands planted on the counter on either side of Tony, eyes looking straight into his.

Steve’s smile turns lopsided when Tony meets his eyes.

“Hey there, beautiful.”

Tony punches Steve’s shoulder lightly in protest and buries his face in his hands.

“Jesus Christ, stop. I will hurt you.”

“Hm, feisty. I like it.”

“Please just go check on your food or something,” Tony mumbles miserably, voice muffled by his own hands. “It’s probably burning.”

Chuckling lightly, Steve finally lets him off the hook with a kiss to the top of his head. “Love you, sweetheart. Go shower, dinner will be ready in a minute.”

Tony hops off the counter and makes a hasty escape, lest Steve continue torturing him with more saccharine words that make him want to melt into the floor in embarrassment.

His husband can be so ridiculous sometimes.

(He wouldn’t change it for the world.)

[sequinsmile-x]

Fracture

Theo Hotchner breaks his arm.

A mini-fic set post ITSWM. (I know I haven’t finished posting that yet but I wrote some fluff for this universe because I needed the serotonin, and thought you might too.)

Rating: General

Words: 2.5k

It happens in slow motion. Aaron watches as Theo falls from the jungle gym, landing awkwardly on his arm as he hits the ground. There’s a beat of silence, a moment where Aaron thinks everything might be ok when runs over, and then his son starts crying hysterically as he sits up. 

When he sees Theo’s arm, bent at an unnatural angle, his first thought is that Emily was going to kill him.

____________

Emily feels her phone ring in her pocket for the second time in as many minutes and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She knows it’s Aaron without looking, having rejected his initial call only a minute before with the intention of calling him back the minute she was free. He never calls her at work, knowing the pressure of her job since he had once done it himself. 

He usually texts her, sends her a photo of the kids as they do something adorable or slightly mischievous. Photos of Amelia smiling widely at the camera, or Theo and Jack playing Mario Kart together, matching looks of concentration on their faces. They helped, reminding her of what was waiting for her when she got home from horrific case after horrific case, that despite everything she still had her family. 

She’d never tell Aaron that they also hurt at times. Tiny reminders of what she missed out on when she was away. 

The fact he was calling her twice in such quick succession could only mean something was wrong. 

Emily looks at the team as they deliver the profile to the local detectives. Dave catches her eye and gives her a quick nod as she lifts her phone and tilts her head down a hallway. 

She answers the phone just as it’s about to ring out. “Aaron, is everything ok?”

Aaron sighs over the phone. “It’s Theo, he’s okay I promise, but he’s broken his arm.” 

For a moment she swears her heart stops in her chest, panic seeping through her body at the thought of her precious little boy being hurt. “He’s not okay if he’s got a broken bone, Aaron.” 

“Sweetheart.” He says firmly, preventing her from spiralling any further. “He’s in a bit of pain but he’s ok. He’s just convinced me this means we get to have ice cream for dinner.” 

She barks out a laugh that catches in her throat. “That boy will do anything for ice cream.” She pauses to take a breath, her emotions still overwhelming despite Aaron’s attempts to distract her. “What happened?” 

“He fell off the jungle gym.” 

She frowns at this, indignation running through her veins. “Aaron, I-”

“Yes, I know you told me he has almost fallen off of it before. I can’t exactly tell him he can’t go on it though sweetheart.” 

She sighs, and feels the anger leave her just as quickly as it came. She looks over her shoulder when she hears the room full of local officers and detectives start to disperse. 

“Do you want to talk to him?” Aaron asks gently. 

“Yes please.” She breathes out, and waits a second as she hears Aaron talking to Theo in the background, the sound of the emergency room they were in almost drowning out their conversation. 

“Hi, Mommy.” He sniffs, sounding incredibly sorry for himself. Her chest feels tight at the sound of it, at the use of the name ‘mommy’ when her 8 year old had mostly been calling her ‘mom’ lately. 

“Hi, sweetie. How are you feeling?” 

“My arm hurts.” He grumbles. “The doctor said I could get a cast in any colour.”

“Really?” She asks, voice full of fake enthusiasm. “What colour are you going for?”

“Green.” He sniffs again, a sign that he had been crying that broke her heart. “Are you coming home?” 

Emily closes her eyes, and she blows out a breath. “I can’t, sweetie. I’m working, remember? I’m in Texas.” 

“Okay.” The disappointment in his voice is palpable, and it takes everything in her to not start crying there and then. Thoughts of how she could leave in the middle of the case, assign someone else as agent in charge and just go home and hug her son.

And maybe smack her husband for letting Theo go on the jungle gym in the first place.

“Emily.” Dave’s voice interrupts her and she turns to look at him, holding up a finger to show she just needed another minute.

“Theo, honey, I’ve got to go okay. I love you so much. I’ll call later.”

“Love you too.”

She smiles at that, as she has done every single time since he first said it. “Can you pass me back to Dad?”

There's another shuffle on the other end of the phone, a quick curse from her husband as one of them nearly drops the phone. “Sweetheart?”

“I’ve really got to go, I’m sorry.”

“Baby, we get it.” He reassures, clearly able to hear how sad she is, how torn she is over what to do. “Theo gets it too usually, you know you’re the first thing any of us wants when we’re sick or hurt.”

Emily nods despite the fact she knows he can’t see her, and she hastily wipes away the tear the movement drops onto her cheek. “I know, you Hotchner’s really can’t cope without me.” She jokes.

“We can get by until you wrap up the case.” He replies, and she can just imagine the grin on his face, the way it would bring out his dimples. “I’ll text when we’re home okay?”

“Yeah, thank you. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.” 

She hangs up the phone and turns back to Dave, who is standing behind her still, with concern all over his face. “Is everything okay at home?”

Emily sighs as she puts her phone back in her pocket and starts to walk back to the conference room, Dave keeping pace at her side. “Theo’s broken his arm, so Aaron took him to hospital.”

Despite how neutrally she tries to say it she clearly fails, Dave coming to a stop and putting a hand on her arm. “The poor kid. We can always manage here if you need to head back.” 

She frowns at him. “I can still do my job, Dave.” 

He holds his hands up in surrender. “I never said you couldn’t, Bella. I just know that you aren’t going to believe he’s fine until you see him for yourself.” 

“I appreciate your concern, but I am fine.” She practically growls at him before walking past into the conference room.

“Yeah.” Dave says to himself. “That was definitely said in a way a person who was fine would say it.”

____________

Emily was aware that she was in a foul mood, snapping at the team as they asked questions or every time they came up against a dead end. The need to get home as quickly as possible clawing at her throat. Photos that Aaron had sent her the night before of Theo with his bright green arm cast, and a bowl of ice cream in front of him only further deepening that need. 

It culminates in her shouting at Derek like she never had before, something that made him say the ‘Hotch attitude’ was finally rubbing off on her. She threatened him with victimology for the rest of his career and then stormed out, ignoring the way the locals looked at her as she did. 

She finds solace in the women’s bathroom, or at least she did right up until Dave followed her in.

“You shouldn’t be here, Dave.” She says as she briefly turns to look at him, before going back to looking at her weary face in the mirror. Sleep had not come easy for her the night before, George Foyet always making his way back into her subconscious every time someone in her family was hurt. 

“Neither should you, Emily.” He clears his throat, clearly ready for an argument. “Which is why I’ve booked you a flight home.” 

Emily turns quickly at that, stares him down. “You did what?” 

“I booked you a flight, it leaves in two hours. I’ll drive you to the airport.” 

She takes a step towards him and crosses her arms across her chest. “I can’t just leave in the middle of a case. I am the Unit Chief.” 

“And you’re a damn good one, but you’re also an excellent mother. And I know that you need to see your little boy more than he needs to see you.” 

Emily stares at him before nodding, relenting to doing exactly what she had been wanting to do in the 30 hours it had been since Aaron had called her. “You’re right. I’ll go. But I expect updates about what's going on here.”

“As you wish.” He stands out of her way so she can get past him and leave the bathroom. “The ticket is first class by the way, so drink some free champagne and do everyone a favour and chill out.” 

Emily grimaces as they walk back towards the conference room. “Have I really been that bad?” 

“You owe everyone at least one drink. I think you owe Derek a month off of paperwork.”

“He wishes.” Emily scoffs.

____________

Aaron watches in amusement as Amelia climbs onto the couch next to Theo and starts to, not very gently, stroke his hair. It’s what Emily did for all of them, Aaron included, when they were sick or hurt and Theo lets his sister do it, despite it clearly being the last thing he wanted. Watching his two year old daughter mirror her mother made his heart constrict, and he wished more than ever that his wife was here. 

His phone rings and he grabs it, smiling as he sees Emily’s name and picture on the screen. “Hey, how are things?” 

“I’m on a plane.” She replies, a small laugh in her voice. “Dave bought me a ticket and drove me to the airport. Took me as far as security would let him to make sure I got onboard.” 

Aaron couldn’t pretend he was anything other than relieved. He’d noticed the tension in his wife during the brief phone calls and text exchanges about their son’s injury. Not to mention Theo was miserable, barely putting up with his little sister's antics anymore, and getting crankier by the second. 

“What time do you get in?”

“Too late for you to even think about picking me up, I’ll get a cab home.” 

He wants to argue, to go get her and tell her everything is fine, but he knows that's not what she needs him to do. She would want him here, in their home, with their kids. “Okay, just text me when you land.”

“I will. Love you.”

“You too.” He says as he hangs up. 

“Everything okay, Dad?” Jack’s voice comes from behind him. 

Aaron turns to look at his 17 year old son. “Yeah, Emily is on her way.” 

Jack smiles at him, the same smile he inherited from Haley. “Uncle Dave sent her home?” Jack laughs at Aaron’s nod. “That’s a whole day sooner than you said it would happen.” 

Aaron laughs. “She must have been in a really bad mood.”

____________

When Emily gets home it’s already well past Theo’s bedtime. As soon as she is in the house she sneaks into his bedroom and her chest tightens at the sight of his bright green cast laid on a pillow next to him. Archie held tightly under Theo’s good arm. She walks over to his bed and presses a kiss to his forehead, whispering apologies for not being home earlier into his hairline. 

Amelia is also asleep. Emily sits down on the edge of her bed and tucks her in a little bit tighter and runs her fingers through her daughter's increasingly unruly hair.

Jack was still up, playing video games online with his friends. She pops her head in his room and quietly says hi, aware she had accidentally embarrassed him in the past. He throws her a grateful smile and a wave and she closes the door behind her. 

When she gets to her own room Aaron is sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for her, and immediately stands as she closes the door behind her. She’s in his arms before she can really register it, and the lump that had sat in her throat since Aaron called her about Theo dissipates almost immediately. 

Emily wraps her arms tightly around him, and presses her face into his soft t-shirt. “Hey.”

Aaron presses a kiss to the top of her head and rubs a hand up and down her back. “Hey sweetheart.”

He encourages her to get ready for bed, and joins her. Their nighttime routines are easily done around each other, years of practise behind them. Once they settle into bed he immediately pulls her into his arms and rests her on his chest. 

“You ok?” He asks gently, fingers running up and down her arm.

“Yes.” She swallows against the word, and it tasted like a lie. “No. I just feel like a bad mom.” She admits into his chest, the fear that had been circling around in her head for longer than the last couple of days bursting out of her. “I know I’m not.” She says as she feels him take in a breath to admonish her, and she rubs the tension from his chest with the palm of her hand. “Being their mom is my favourite thing, but when I can’t be here when my son hurts himself...it really sucks.”

Aaron hears the way her voice cracks, and the way her body shudders when she tries to hold back the tears he had no doubt she had been putting off since he called her to tell her about Theo’s accident. 

“You’re okay, Em. And so is he.” Aaron kisses the top of her head. “He’ll be so happy when he wakes up to see you tomorrow, and I’ll go back to being second favourite even though I gave him ice-cream two days in a row.” 

She pushes herself up by the hand on his chest, her tearstained face coming into view. “Two days in a row?”

____________

Theo is delighted to see her the next morning, all but forgetting about his broken arm as he launches himself at her. He begs her to sign his cast, to draw a picture on it for him, and she smiles when she sees the scribbles on it clearly left by Aaron helping Amelia hold the pen.

When her daughter realises she is home she squeals and demands to be held by her mother for hours. 

They watch a movie together, all of them piling into the living room. Theo chooses the movie, Monsters Inc, and Aaron levels a glare at Jack when he opens his mouth to complain. 

“Breaking your arm is fun.” Theo exclaims as he sits in between his parents, ready to watch his favourite movie. 

Aaron and Emily exchange a look over the top of their son’s head and they both suppress a laugh.

They were all going to be fine.

[thechangeling]

Tell me a story

Ty doesn't believe in fate.

A shout out to @ilikebooks8 for convincing me to make a fanfic about autistic!Eleanor Blackthorn. Autism is genetic so it makes sense for Ty to have autistic ancestors. If you are autistic I guarentee you have someone in your family who is also autistic they just haven't been diagnosed yet. For me, I've got my dad.

Cw: mentions of ableism, abuse and the death of a minor character. Very anti Andrew Blackthorn.

"Tell me a story," Tiberius' asked, in that mature, matter- of-fact way he spoke. Ty was only eight but already he sounded like a boy twice his age in terms of his vocabulary and the way he spoke.

Although he still had the voice of a child which was rather amusing. Eleanor turned to face her son with a groan as she felt searing pain shoot through her bones. She had been laying down all day due to feeling extremely unwell. The noises and lights of the outside world were especially brutal, but she had gotten used to it overtime. She had learned to cope. To smile and nod and make eye contact. To control her movements and still her hands and laugh at their jokes.

Eleanor played the part of the proper shadowhunter and the dutiful wife, the attentive mother. It didn't matter that it had changed her. Had completely turned her into a different person, someone harsher and colder. Someone who was so quick to anger and venomous hatred.

Someone who only knew how to be in pain.

She always tried to not let that side of her show to her children. They didn't deserve it. But the past few weeks in particular had been brutal. Her body felt broken and it was becoming harder and harder to put up that facade.

She faced Ty with the best fake smile she could muster. "Which story would you like to hear?" He climbed up on the bed beside her and sat down in an odd twisted position where his legs were in a W position. He began tapping his hands on his knees as he appeared to contemplate his choices.

Eleanor could remember a time when she was younger when she used to do that. Before her parents had stopped her. She knew she should really tell Tiberius off to discourage him from doing these things in public. He was so blatent and open in a way that frightened and almost angered her. There was no telling what kind of reaction The Clave might have.

She didnt want him to end up with the dregs, or worse.

"I don't know," Ty said finally scrunching up his eyebrows. "I can't think of one right now. Could you make one up?" Eleanor smiled in spite of herself. She had always loved making up stories ever since she was a kid. She had always been a creative person, painting and drawing as often as she could. Shadowhunters didn't really appreciate a creative streak.

Eleanor nodded. "Ok sure, let's see." She took a breath, trying to ignore the agony spreading through her back and shoulders. "Once upon a time there was a prince who was trapped in a tower that was guarded by an evil ogar. The prince had been rumored to have special powers so he was forced by his parents to stay locked away in the tower forever to keep him safe. He wasnt allowed to make friends with any other children so he grew up alone. Teaching himself how to read and write and playing games to amuse himself."

Ty rolled his eyes. "Isn't that rather cliche? The whole prince trapped in a tower story? I've definitely heard that before."

Eleanor laughed. "Where did you hear the word cliche Tiberius?" Ty shrugged, not seeing the amusement in the situation.

"It was in a book. Can you keep going?" He whined impatiently. "I wanna hear the rest."

Eleanor sighed, shaking her head good naturedly. "Alright then. So the prince was trapped for a very long time. Then one day a mysterious adventurer came exploring nearby the tower."

"Can it be a detective?" Ty interrupted, bouncing up and down. He had been obsessed with Clue lately.

"Alright sure, it was a detective. He was searching the answers to a murder mystery. The murder of a young women."  Ty instantly looked interested. Perhaps murder was not the best subject for a story being told to an eight year old, but Ty was a shadowhunter. They were trained to deal with blood and death.

"His was searching for information and came across the tower," she continued. So he decided to investigate. He snuck passed the ogar and into the tower, where he was ambushed by the prince!"

Ty gasped excitedly, wriggling in place. "What happened next? Did they fight?"

Eleanor opened her mouth to continue, but then the bedroom door flew open, startling them both.

It was Andrew. Instantly Ty shrunk himself down, hunching his shoulders. Eleanor knew that Ty didn't always get along with his father but she knew Andrew still loved him deep down. He glared at them both.

"Ty your mother is meant to be resting," he said pointedly.

Eleanor shook her head. "Oh no it's alright. He wasn't bothering me." Andrew didn't seem to hear her.

"Tiberius let's go," he said harshly. Ty hesitated for a moment, looking up at her.

"But I wanna hear the rest of the story!" He protested. "I wanna know what happens to the prince!" Eleanor sighed solemnly. She didn't want to disappoint Ty, but she was feeling pretty worn out.

"Another time baby," she assured him. "I promise."

But unfortunately she never got the chance. She never got the chance because little did they know, Eleanor Blackthorn had cancer. Something that silent brothers couldn't cure. Something that shadowhunters were powerless against.

"What are you thinking about ?" Kit murmered from his spot curled up against Ty's chest. His breath tickled Ty's chin.

Ty paused, not quite sure how to answer. They were lying on the roof of the LA institute again. It was their special spot. Kit had suggested a night of star gazing for a date since the weather was nice.

Things has been a little weird between them lately. Kit had been pretending that everything was fine and he was unfazed, but Ty could tell that something was bothering him. And he had a feeling he knew what it was.

At Magnus and Alec's anniversary party, Jace made a joke about how Kit and Ty would probably be the next ones to get married and Ty immediately went into a blind panic. He completely froze up at the mention of marriage. At the mention of him getting married. His body instantly went into a complete overload almost as if he was on the verge of a meltdown.

He didn't take the time to think about any of it. He just snapped and yelled that he wasn't getting married. That he wasn't ever getting married. Ty wasnt even sure where it came from. Kit was pretending like it wasnt a big deal but Ty knew he was hurting. He could tell.

Ty traced a pattern across Kit's arm. "Honestly it was nothing," he assured him. "I just-." Ty stared at Kit, studying his face. The curve of his lips, the adorable blush of his cheeks and the tiny beauty mark under his eye that Ty loved to fixate on. Everything ached, but it was a good kind of ache.

Ty loved him.

"I just want to stay like this forever," he murmered. "Here with you, where I feel safe and warm. And loved." Ty nuzzled his nose against Kit's. "I want to be with you forever."

Kit smiled distantly before breaking into a slight frown. "Then why don't you wanna marry me?" He asked sadly. And Ty could instantly hear the old ghosts of self loathing and insecurity still haunting Kit's thoughts.

Ty sighed. "It has nothing to do with you I promise. I just really don't want to get married and I'm not even fully certain of why exactly."

Kit stroked his cheek slowly. "Is it the idea of a big wedding? Because we don't have to do that you know. We can totally just skip it," he said assuredly.

Ty shook his head. "That's part of it but it isn't the only reason." He paused to contemplate what exactly it was that was making him feel this way, feel so afraid.

Strangely enough, Ty kept coming back to his mother. His mother who was always a little peculiar in private. Who always seemed sad and exhausted even before the silent brothers diagnosed her. Who was constantly going along with whatever her husband wanted for whatever reason. Because she assumed he knew what he was doing? Because she didn't want to make waves in a society so rigid and obsessed with conformity?

Ty had been considering it more and more lately.

He sat up, displacing Kit from where he was resting. "I think my mother was like me," Ty admitted in a shakey voice. "I think she was autistic and that's why she ended up in the situations she did."

"Ok?" Kit looked confused. "But that still doesn't explain-."

Ty interrupted him. "She was trying so hard to fit in and do the right thing and she would just let him control her. She kept compromising for him because she thought that's what she was supposed to do and also because despite it all I think she really loved him! And it made her so stupid!" Ty shouted.

"I just don't want to become trapped like that," he confessed.

Kit was silent for a moment, just staring at him with a puzzled expression. "Ok, but Ty you realize that I'm not your dad right? Like I would never try and control you or make you into something you're not. I'm not trying to own you, I'm trying to love you!" He argued. "Ty, marriage isnt supposed to trap you. It's about making our relationship into an Offical legal thing that everyone's forced to acknowledge and accept."

Kit took Ty's hand in his. "It's about making each other family."

Ty looked away. He couldn't meet Kit's eyes when he was staring at him looking so hopeful and desperate. It did strange things to Ty's insides. He squeezed his eyes shut, scrunching up his face along with his fists for a moment before letting go.

"I just don't want to let someone have power over me in that way," he explained. Kit sighed, then smiled softly before leaning forward to rest his forehead against Ty's. Ty let out a little moan as he let the tension release from his body with a sigh. Kit placed his hand over Ty's heart.

"But don't you get it Ty?" He asked softly. "You already have, whether you meant to or not. I'm in your system sweetheart, in your blood just like you're in mine." Ty felt him smile. "Like we were made for each other. Like we've spent our entire lives waiting for each other."

Ty pulled away from him. "No I don't believe that," he stated firmly. "I don't believe in fate or destiny or soulmates. I think it's an overt  romanticization of life and the human condition which can have disastrous consequences. It leads people to believe that they are somehow incomplete without a romantic partner which is incredibly problematic." Ty realized he was probably going on a bit of a tangent as he was known to do. But he couldn't be bothered to care.

Kit pouted a little. "Yeah I get that. But I don't know. I like to romanticize things in life. After everything that I've been through, I guess it just makes things feel better you know?" Kit glanced at him hopefully."I don't care if you don't believe in any of those things. I do. And despite what you might believe, you aren't always right about everything," Kit said pointedly.

Ty scowled at him. Kit was undeterred. "And I get that you're coming at this from a scary trauma place. I understand that. I have those too. But you don't have to be afraid of me," he pleaded.

Ty couldn't resist reaching out and touching him, pushing a curly lock of hair behind his ear. "Can I maybe think about it?" Kit smiled and snuggled up against Ty's chest again. "Of course," he murmered. Ty leaned back and resumed his earlier position, staring up at the sky.

He nuzzled his face against Kit's hair. "I'm glad you're not mad at me anymore," said Ty.

Kit snorted, turning to face Ty. "I'm never mad at you love. It's pretty much impossible." Ty grinned and leaned forward to kiss him slowly, savoring the feeling of Kit's lips against his.

Kit broke off and kissed Ty's cheek, then his orbital bone. Ty giggled and closed his eyes which prompted Kit to place a kiss on each of his eyelids.

"I love every inch of you," Kit whispered. Ty couldn't speak. He was too overwhelmed. He just wrapped his arms around Kit even tighter and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

They lay in peaceful silence for several moments before Kit spoke.

"Tell me a story."

In case you missed it, the story Eleanor was telling Ty is the story of kitty in Lady Midnight basically. Also. Not me projecting my fear of marriage onto my comfort character! 😂

Tag list: (lmk if you wanna be added/removed) @playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @knifescythe @ti-bae-rius @dianasarrow @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies @zfoxdraws @julieandthefandoms @older-brother-kit @ilikebooks8 @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @foxglove-airmid @littlx-songbxrd @heloisacosta23 @adoravel-fenomeno @eutonyinwhisper

[qqueenofhades]

Fake dating AU for the idiot Heartrender Husbands! I beg of you!

As ever, I am preposterously easy to enable, and since they will eventually make an appearance in A Phantom in Enchanting Light, I decided to write their backstory for that verse. Also, “fake dating but it’s only fake because they’re both idiots” is an Aesthetic. I love them.

Moscow, 2010

The guy is most definitely late. Fedyor got here early – probably too early, since they’re supposed to meet at eleven and he arrived by quarter past ten – but it’s now 11:08 and still no sign of him. Fedyor has claimed a corner table in the coffee shop just off Red Square with its splendid old tsarist-era décor, surrounded by the murmur of conversation and clicking laptop keys as his fellow Muscovites get on with their daily lives. The rule is fifteen minutes, yes? If Ivan Sakharov doesn’t show up in another seven, Fedyor is free to bail. But it’s been so long, and Nadia, the mutual friend responsible for this set-up, has begged Fedyor to give him a chance. And since it is understandably difficult to date as a gay man in Russia, Fedyor’s patience must be tested longer than usual. He sips his flat white and glances at the door again. Still no Ivan.

Fedyor opens his phone and checks the photo that Nadia sent him, trying to decide if this man is attractive enough to compensate for his tardiness. It’s hard to tell. It is 11:14, and he is absolutely about to pack up and leave by no later than 11:25, when a tall, grim-faced man in a red windbreaker strides in. He stops short, glances around, spots Fedyor, and powers over with such single-minded determination that Fedyor fears he’s about to be arrested. “Hello,” he says curtly. “I am Ivan Ivanovich Sakharov. I believe you are waiting for me?”

“Ah – ? I am Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky, yes,” he manages, offering a hand, which Ivan crushes in a Terminator grip. “It’s – nice to meet you?”

Ivan snorts, pulls out the other chair, and drapes his jacket over it, then orders a small plain coffee (black like his soul, evidently). Then he returns, sits down, and claps his hands as if he is calling a misbehaving class to attention. “Where are you from?” he barks. “How long have you lived in Moscow?!”

Fedyor continues to gape. He’s genuinely not sure if this is Ivan attempting to get to know him on speed-run, or if he’s being interrogated by a FSB agent who can’t even act for two seconds like he’s not. It’s ominously possible. Dmitry Medvedev is the president and there are hopes that there might be a social liberalization, but the Orthodox patriarchs and the far right have been increasingly agitating against Russia’s embattled LGBTQ community, and things could just as easily get worse. Is this a setup or a setup? Nadia would never knowingly put him in a dangerous situation, of course, but maybe she was likewise fooled. You’d think that if this was a sting, they could have found a guy who was actually capable of pretending to be on a date, but maybe that’s the point? What the hell is going on here?

Fedyor opens his mouth, then shuts it. As a matter of fact, he is originally from Nizhny Novgorod, but moved to Moscow for university and has lived here for seven years, but if Ivan is with the FSB, he probably already knows that. Is this a trick? Is Ivan trying to match him to some police intelligence file or see if he’s a liar? Fedyor is seriously about to get up and walk out (or maybe sprint out) when Ivan, perhaps realizing that he’s blowing this to a heretofore unprecedented degree, says, “Sorry. I am from Krasnoyarsk. I enjoy rugby.”

Of course he likes rugby if he’s from Krasnoyarsk. This is a disaster. “Uh, what side?”

“Krasny Yar,” says Ivan, in the tone of a man about to stand up and belt out the fight song. “I also enjoy football. Yenisey Krasnoyarsk. Though I have begun supporting Lokomotiv since I came to Moscow. That was five years ago.”

So, he’s definitely a hooligan. Fedyor does his best to keep smiling. In the flesh, Ivan is definitely not unattractive. His hair is crisp and brown, there are glints of hazel in his eyes, and he has that hard, chiseled handsomeness that Fedyor always ends up getting suckered into. Except for the fact that he is lively, extroverted, and outgoing, likes clubbing and mingling and making friends, and this man does not appear to have ever heard of a single one of those things. What was Nadia thinking? It’s not like her to whiff this badly. Or did she have to be so circumspect in asking Ivan if he would like to meet Fedyor that, even if he’s not an undercover cop, he is in fact clueless about the true nature of this social engagement? Thinks it’s guys being pals?

“Did you have somewhere you were coming from earlier?” Fedyor asks, after another excruciating silence. “Is that why you were – ?”

“My apologies. The bus was late. I am normally very punctual.” Ivan scowls ferociously, as if the bus ever dares to do such a thing again, he will personally murder it. “What hobbies do you enjoy, Fedyor Mikhailovich?”

“I think you can call me Fedyor, yes?” They are clearly nowhere near “Fedya” and “Vanya” just yet, but “Fedyor Mikhailovich” always makes Fedyor look around warily for his grumpiest professor at MSU. He tries to think of subtle conversational gambits to find out what Ivan knows, without being obvious. Oh God, he really should just cut his losses, but something – perhaps the pathetic conviction that even a terrible date is better than no date at all – keeps him in his seat. Presuming that he does get out of here alive, he will call up Nadia straightaway and ask her many, many questions, mostly consisting of Why??! “Well,” Fedyor says at last. “I like having fun?”

“I also enjoy fun,” Ivan says, stone-faced. “I am very funny.”

Russian humor is normally extremely deadpan, to the point that Fedyor does wonder if Ivan is in fact a diabolical troll genius, but somehow he doesn’t think so. The rest of the conversation proceeds in this fashion, but by the end of an hour, Fedyor still has no idea if he has just been on a date or a trip to the gulag. Ivan gets up, administers another bone-crushing handshake, thanks him for his time, and marches out. Fedyor can practically hear the Red Army Choir thundering some patriotic anthem in his wake.

When he gets home that afternoon, Fedyor is resolved to write off the whole thing, except it was weirdly kind of not as bad as he first thought, maybe, somehow. If nothing else, he’s fascinated by this, like watching a slow-motion train crash. He takes out his phone with the intention of calling Nadia, only to see a text message from an unfamiliar number. When he opens it, it reads, Hello. Your company was agreeable today. Thank you. Perhaps we could meet again next week. Please reply yes or no. The message uses the formal styles of address, and some of the spellings are slightly old-fashioned. He has also signed it – Иван Сахаров – in case there might be some confusion with another Ivan the Terrible at Dating of Fedyor’s recent acquaintance. It is a bit like getting a text from the undertaker.

Fedyor stares at it, insanely tempted to burst out laughing, and finally, just because now he’s too curious to refuse, texts back his gracious acceptance. Still chuckling, he makes dinner, and then, as his phone pings with Ivan’s response, wonders in horror what on earth he is getting himself into.

This is how things continue for the next six weeks. Ivan and Fedyor meet up for the second time, stroll sedately around one of Moscow’s many city parks together, then part ways, and this time it’s Fedyor’s turn to ask if he would like to do it again. He isn’t sure exactly why, except that Ivan is unexpectedly easy to spend time with, and he nods in stoic approval of whatever Fedyor says. Of course, they follow the usual rules of dating which are especially important in Russia: don’t talk about politics, don’t talk about religion, don’t talk about America, don’t talk about Ukraine, don’t talk about Chechnya. From what Fedyor can glean, Ivan’s views tend to the doctrinaire, but he is surprisingly undogmatic, and willing to at least act as if he has an open mind. If he was an FSB agent, it feels like he would have busted Fedyor by now, but maybe he is waiting for him to do something unmistakably gay. That’s not it. Right?

Nadia calls, wanting to know how it’s going, and Fedyor grills her for forty minutes over whether Ivan is a law enforcement plant, a lonely guy looking for a friend, the world’s most method practical joker, or just extremely stupid. Nadia insists that he is actually very nice once you get to know him (HA, thinks Fedyor) and has no particular affection for either the ruling classes or the oligarchs. He can certainly be an acquired taste, but he is not evil.

Forced to accept it, still chickening out of asking Ivan whether he knows they’re dating, wondering if they are dating, if Ivan knows that Fedyor knows they’re dating, if Fedyor only thinks he knows that they are dating while they are not actually dating, or if Ivan thinks he knows that they’re dating while they’re… whatever the fresh-fried fuck is truly happening here, Fedyor trudges off for what has become his almost-weekly rendezvous with Ivan the-Maybe-Not-Quite-So-Terrible. They manage to have a few conversations verging on meaningful, and Fedyor has found himself telling Ivan about his family and Nizhny Novgorod and other such things. Fedyor likes to talk and Ivan likes to listen, though he breaks in now and again with a bone-dry quip. He’s still never what you would call loquacious, or easily forthcoming, but Fedyor likes that. Ivan is tough, complex, enigmatic, guarded, occasionally willing to let down his walls but only if the other person is worth it, and Fedyor finds, to his surprise, that he wants to be worth it. If this is a long-con mind game, he almost doesn’t care. (Almost.)

The problem, however, is that they’ve been seeing each other regularly for a month and a half and they haven’t gotten any closer than walking through a park, outdoors, in full view of their fellow comrades. Even the first time Fedyor takes the plunge and invites Ivan to his apartment, they sit three feet apart on the couch, watching a badly-Russian-subtitled version of Die Hard and providing critical commentary. Fedyor’s English is a lot more fluent than Ivan’s, and his middle-class family, while not exactly wealthy, is definitely better off than Ivan’s hardscrabble clan of miners and loggers in Siberia. That upbringing certainly does explain, to some degree, why Ivan is the way he is, and Fedyor wonders anxiously if Ivan views him as an insufferably posh city boy. Ivan barely finished high school and went straight to working in a Krasnoyarsk aluminum factory. He definitely did not faff around Moscow State University and attend global development seminars in Paris.

Nonetheless, despite their obvious differences, they do get along, and Fedyor is unable to deny the fact that he would, if it’s all right with everyone, like it to be more than that. Of course, finding out if Ivan knows, etc. etc., has been the paramount challenge, and there is no way to find out other than to go for it. Fedyor is 75% sure that they’ve been going steady for two months, but if it’s actually the other 25%, this is going to get awkward in a hurry. Is this essentially a fake relationship, or is it only fake because they’re both idiots?

After having duly commended his soul to God, Fedyor invites Ivan over on Saturday night. He rents a tiny flat by himself since he’s been burned on rooming with strangers, but Ivan is used to it by now, and it doesn’t feel too small with the two of them. Fedyor strains his limited culinary skills to cook supper, probably making his babushka cluck her tongue and sigh in a judgmental fashion back in Nizhny Novgorod, and they sit down and eat in silence for five minutes. Then Fedyor says, “Vanya?”

The consistent use of the diminutive has started sometime in the last few weeks, neither of them remember quite when. Ivan doesn’t correct him. “Yes?”

Fedyor clears his throat. “Do you…” He winces. “Do you… like me?”

“Yes?” Ivan says again, looking confused. “I would not have spent so much time with you if I did not, don’t you think? We are friends.”

“Yes, I know that we’re friends, but…” Fedyor looks at the ceiling. It doesn’t help, so he looks back at Ivan. “Are we… special friends?”

Ivan continues to look blank. “Are we?”

Fedyor resists the urge to tug at his collar, thinking that it’s a damn good thing that he didn’t go with his other idea of just leaning across the table and passionately kissing him. With absolutely no change of tone or expression, Ivan says, “Please explain. Special friends how?”

“Friends who want to…” Fedyor takes a deep breath. “Be… more than friends?”

“How?” Ivan orders again, ruthlessly. “Be clear, Fedya.”

“Are we maybe… boyfriends?” Fedyor’s voice squeaks on the word. “As in… we have feelings for each other that aren’t just… friendly? Like… feelings which are… romantic?”

Ivan continues to stare at him like a statue for several more seconds, and Fedyor contemplates the feasibility of tunneling directly through the floor of his apartment and running all the way to Latvia. Then at last, Ivan throws his head back and – startling Fedyor deeply – breaks into real, genuine, belly laughter, the kind that he has never heard from Ivan before. “Oh my,” he chortles, slapping the table. “Your face. You were sweating bullets.”

“WAIT, WHAT!?!” Fedyor pushes his chair back and stands up with a clatter, incandescently outraged. “Are you – were you messing with me?!!”

“Maybe a little,” Ivan says, wiping his eyes. “You know, all this time, I have not been sure if you are shy or a terrible prude. Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“God’s Mother in Heaven – ” Fedyor feels another prick of disloyalty to his babushka for swearing on the Bogomater, but some people deserve it. All inhibitions forgotten, he charges at Ivan like a runaway train, as Ivan springs out of his own chair in readiness, and starts pounding on his chest in transports of fury. “You are the worst! You are the worst person ever! For two months, what have we been doing?! I have been afraid this whole time that maybe you don’t know what’s really going on, and now – ?! You are the worst!”

Ivan catches Fedyor’s flailing arms, holds them away from him, and picks him up bodily, swinging him around and pushing him against the wall. “Maybe I am just a dumb country boy from Siberia,” he remarks, “but even I am not that stupid, Fedyor Mikhailovich.”

“I hate you,” Fedyor pants, their faces and their mouths an inch away from each other. “Get out of my apartment.”

“Mmm?” Ivan cocks an eyebrow. Then he plants both hands on either side of Fedyor’s head, leans in, and deeply, savagely captures Fedyor’s mouth with his own.

Every remaining vestige of barely rational thought in Fedyor’s head evaporates in screaming shock. He still wants to shove Ivan away, knee him in the balls, or break a chair over his head, but if he did that, he would have to stop kissing him, and he can’t do that either. He moans, Ivan’s tongue takes the opportunity to slip into his mouth, their hands clutch and claw and their legs melt out from under them, they turn away or break contact only to gulp a breath before diving back in again, and the next time Fedyor is aware of anything, they have collapsed on his kitchen floor in a wrung-out, entangled, gasping heap. Ivan says in his ear, “Do you still want me to leave, Fedya?”

“No,” Fedyor manages. “Because now, I am really going to make you suffer.”

Ivan’s smile is dark and full of promise. He pulls back, gets to his feet, and holds out a hand. “Then I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

(Ivan doesn’t leave Fedyor’s apartment that night. He doesn’t leave it the next night either. At the end of the week, Fedyor calls up Nadia and informs her that he hates her so much, and when they do next see each other, he’ll shake her by both shoulders and then thank her for introducing him to the no-good, truly awful, very bad love of his life.)

[imkylotrash]

The Art Of Starting Over (Chapter 1)

Pairing. Saul Silva x reader, Andreas x reader

Summary: You’re about to get married but he never shows leaving you humiliated and hurt. That’s when you hear of his untimely death. 

Series Masterlist

A/N There’s a fun fact about Andreas’ fake name if you can spot it 💛 Also, I know this is short but I really liked the ending.

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @anreeixcobra @kingunder221b @lflores2008 @alexiapayne12 @quuenofblacks @quarterback-5 @estelmei @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @artsyle​ @baueoud @glowingatdawn @shadowhuntyi

You spend the weekend apart wanting to uphold one of the many traditions of getting married. You never really cared much for traditions when living in the Otherworld but you knew Dan Sear was a traditional man and you wanted him to have the wedding he dreamed of. You’d been surprised just how much he cared about the wedding and doing it right, but you just wanted him to be happy. So, here you are in the powder room getting ready with a swarm of your friends from Earth.

“Just a bit more blush,” Sarah says hitting your face multiple times with a makeup brush.

“You keep going at it like that and I’ll be bruising on my wedding day,” you tease her and she instantly softens her hand movements but still adds: “Well, you’re supposed to wear something blue, right?” It doesn’t take much longer for your friends to declare you ready which is lucky considering the ceremony started five minutes ago. You rush out and Sarah gives the signal for the music to start playing. 

“Cold feet?” she smirks catching you trying to sneak a peak of the aisle and your soon-to-be husband. 

“I’m not hav-” You never finish that sentence. Time freezes when you see the priest stand there but no Dan. Why wouldn’t he be here? 

“Someone get me my phone,” you whisper and Sarah is quick to run back and retrieve it for you. There are no new messages or even a voicemail. You try calling him but he doesn’t pick up. 

“Where is Dan?” you ask. Finally, a question Sarah has no answer for. You call off the wedding that day and you’re mortified by what’s happened. No one has been able to reach him and you can’t shake this feeling that something awful has happened to him. He wouldn’t do this to you. The police say they can’t help since he hasn’t been gone long enough for him to be considered missing which you find absolutely ridiculous. One of the officers even has the audacity to tell you that it’s normal for men to get cold feet. 

“I know my fiancé. He wouldn’t do this to me,” you had said to the officer. But no matter what you said, they couldn’t help you. Dan Sear was not a missing person. You already know what’s about to happen when you get the call five days later. 

“Sarah, I can’t do this alone.” You’re clutching her arm so tightly you’re positive it’ll bruise, but you can’t focus on that right now. You have to identify his body and your gut feeling knows that it’ll be him. She comes with you to the station where the same officer that told you he just got cold feet is waiting to drive you to the morgue. 

“I’m very sorry,” he says leading you inside but you ignore him. Maybe if he’d taken you seriously, Dan would still be alive. 

“It might not be him,” Sarah says still holding onto the hope you’ve already lost. You’re going in there expecting the worst and that’s what you get. He looks so pale. 

“What happened to him?” you ask almost choking on the words. You were supposed to be married by now, you weren’t supposed to be mourning his death. God, it looked almost as if he was sleeping but you knew you’d never get to look into those beautiful eyes again. 

“They’re looking into it but right now, it seems like it was a case of wrong time, wrong place.” Sarah hugs you tightly promising you’ll be okay over and over again but you can’t hear her over the sound of your heart breaking. 

You wake up bathed in sweat trying to catch your breath. Tears are flowing freely almost the same as they did in the dream. You have no idea why you’d start having these dreams again now when it had been four years since it happened last. You look to your side feeling yourself calm down as you watch his chest rise and fall with his breathing. You want to wake him up and look into his eyes but you know he has an early morning and you don’t want to be the reason he didn’t sleep. Instead you tiptoe out onto the balcony eager for some fresh air. You see something shimmer in the moonlight and you try to see what it is. Your blood runs cold when you notice the silhouette. Someone is watching you hidden between the trees. 

“Saul?” you call out confident that whoever is watching you won’t be able to hear you so far away. When Saul stumbles out on the balcony, you take your eyes off of the person for just a second and when you look again, whoever it was is gone. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. You want to tell him about the person watching you but you start doubting yourself. It was probably an animal or something as scared as you were. 

“I thought I saw something,” you say eyes fixed at where you felt confident you’d seen someone. 

“Marco is out doing some reckon. Maybe he got a little too close to the school,” Saul says and you’re more than ready to accept his explanation. It was probably the headlights of the car you’d seen. 

“Sorry for waking you up. Go back to sleep,” you say kissing his cheek. 

“Only if you join me,” he replies pulling you with him. You shake your head trying to get rid of the unsettling feeling that’s taken residence in your bones. You want to believe that you saw Marco but it felt different. You knew that silhouette. 

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom 14-20 thoughts!! I finished up s1 :D these last few eps were actually really really good!!!

-did. did tucker really just say esperanto was a dead language only spoken as a secret code between geeks. google says around 100,000 people actively speak it. oh my god...it being an auxiliary language doesn't mean its 'just for geeks to speak in code' ...it helps bridge gaps between people who don't have a language in common...

-danny really isn't pulling punches when it comes to fighting the ghost-cop possessed people huh. like he SLAMMED KWAN INTO THE CONCRETE SO HARD. HE THREW PAULINA INTO A BILLBOARD. will that...I mean it WOULD carry over to their bodies non-possessed, right? like if the ghost piloting their bodies gets hurt?? itd be so upsetting to be possessed, lose time, then wake up covered in bruises (and possibly, broken bones??) real horror movie stuff im sure wont be addressed in any way

-tuckers parents seem nice! I like them :)

-WULF IS CUTE AND I FEEL BAD. im so glad the gang realized he was only causing trouble bc of the shock collar walker put on him and helped. also, him wearing that big hoodie with the hood on, and thinking its subtle. we can tell youre still a giant wolfie :) THEN GETTING SUCKED INTO THE PORTAL AAAAH :( anxiously waiting to see Him Again....

-DANNY BLASTING HIS PARENTS THINKING THEY WERE OVERSHADOWED LMFAO GET THEIR ASSES. maddie marking how many ghosts she gets with lipstick tallies on the side of her portal gun? kindaaa iconic tho. (ALSO, SHE WAS LIKE, 2 FT AWAY FROM HIM RIGHT AFTER SHE TRIED TO SHOOT HIM. HOW DO YOU NOT RECONINZE YOUR OWN SON??? like sure, he might have diff hair/eye colors. but like, if one of my family members dyed their hair, and was wearing contacts, its not like id be like 'wHO IS THIS STRANGER!!!' ...he still has all his facial features!! same everything!!! I hate it here)

-paulina being #1 girl realizing danny's a friendly ghost immediately. smart queen. lancer and kwan ran away right after he made this sweet baby face at them:

which is hilarious.

-ok. im not saying his bullying is JUSTIFIED, but. dash looked so pleased with the (cute!) poster he just painted, and danny comes thru the wall and spills paint on his nice letterman jacket. his anger is justified maybe 65% of the time so far...(not the way he handles it, but STILL.) at least lancer is stepping in!! and them making a silly little bet was...cute?? until dash pulled out his GROSS UNDERWEAR AND SAID DANNY WOULD HAVE TO EAT THEM???? WHAT THE FUCK MAN. TUCKER WAS SO RIGHT ITS FUCKING WEIRD TO CARRY THOSE AROUND EWWW. THIS KID IS UNWELL. lancer was right, his animatronic setup was SUPER IMPRESSIVE?? hes actually pretty creative. danny meanwhile is stealing the fright knight's design...I hope dash is taking art classes or smth with his sports

-fright knight is the most bestest ghost so far i LOVE THAT DESIGN. I am biased towards knights, and characters with swords, but he fucks so severely. and should sue danny for copyright infringement for stealing his design for his haunted house. if some 14 yr old broke into MY house and stole MY sword, id also be pissed. his evil winged unicorn rules too with its FANGS. and he just CAN SHOVE THE PORTAL OPEN WITH HIS HANDS??? is he the strongest ghost weve seen so far? idk but hes my fav. SOUL SHREDDER IS SUCH A COOL SWORD NAME TOO. ANY NAMED SWORD ALSO FUCKS. 'flaming bedsheets of DEATH' funny king. ALSO he was polite to dash and tucker when just asking for directions and telling tucker 'oh maybe, just a suggestion, maybe be nicer to me and be more respectful :)' I LOOOVE HIM.

-I noticed this in the Ember ep, but jazz has an electric guitar in her room!! talent musical queen!! its cool to see hobbies just in the bg.

-fright knight's murder castle reminds me of the booby trapped murder castle in zexal!! another supposedly 'for kids' show with murder/trap castles! we love that. if you are a dp fan reading this, give yugioh zexal a try. its also got 13-14 year old protags and involves (alien) ghosts. the cardgame is just a vessel for the plot, which is really good. (I just want more people to watch my fav yugioh, man)

-danny. with a SWORD.

-danny doesnt NEED TO WIN this contest, dash didnt STEAL HIS DESIGNS AND STEAL A SWORD. he also got excited to hear lancer got sent to a dimension with his worst fears too just so he could win the contest? DANNY WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!! BRO MAYBE YOURE 14 AND HAVENT FULLY DEVOLPED YOUR WHOLE BRAIN YET, BUT...THATS FUCKED. this kid casually says the most deranged things, I do worry for my spooky son. once again, therapy needed. that judo toss was great tho. I wonder if he actually did pick up some martial arts stuff from his mom?

-danny can fly 112 mph!!! thats so fast! I love the lil montage of him and his friends testing his abilities and stuff, very cute and a good way to showcase what he can do by now and how much more proficient he's gotten from ep 1!!! I'm sure he's going to get more abilities :)

-im glad...maddie's at least TRYING this ep. I do feel for her because her husband is a man baby. but the fact it took 16 episodes to get a kinda semblance of any kind of real concern or attempts at bonding. hmm. jack's 'BACK OFF SHES A MINOR' @ the ghost trying to attack jazz. also was very funny. and him wanting to make an action figure of her? are the parents redeeming themselves to me? slightly. they gotta Work Harder

-THE GHOST. IS FLYING. THE PLANE.

-fenton machete. but she doesnt carry a PHONE??? ???

-I mean I expected vlad when you namedrop him earlier in the ep, and also the title card picture, and dalv corp being fucking vlad backwards. but seeing him just pull up on a golf cart made me bust out laughing. WITH the gift baskets prepared. why wouldnt you at least be suspicious. also, if he wants danny to be his lil sonboy, why is he so fucking malicious?? dude you are going about this in such a bad way. stop it. get some help.

-maddie not even hesitating to drag danny out. fucking good. danny is so right, go on the internet to date. get a cat. how do you spend...how many years?? has it been since college?? at least 20, right, since the parents/vlad are in their 40s? hung up on ONE girl. my god, man. incel drama queen. her kung fu IS impressive, but dude. 'we both know hes a creep' SO right. it sucks but they do need a phone and shit being in the middle of NOWHERE. also, just stealing his helicopter was great. <3

-'you must be exhausted carrying the weight of that mistake you made years ago' 'well we all make mistakes. maybe I'll make one now!' WHY DID THIS EXHCHANGE SEND ME. AND VLAD WITH THE BREATH SPRAY EWWW BITCH. 'OLD BAIT BREATH' SOO RIGHT. both danny and his mom playing him HAHAH hes so dumb. or rather, I think he thinks with his emotions too too much and is...actually pretty gullible? lmao he believed danny was ready to give in SO fast. (which is sad hes that hopeful, like you have SO MUCH MONEY YOU COULD EASILY GET ANOTHER GIRL WHO HAS A KID. AND WOULD WANT TO BE WITH YOU AND BE SUPPORTED. GET OVER THIS (1) WOMAN ALREADY IM GETTING SECONDHAND EMBARRASSMENT AAAAH)

-GHOST BEAR GHOST BEAR GHOST BEAR. it was also in the title card, but I still got very excited. we love bears here

-SAM'S BAT SWIMSUIT COVERUP!!! her outfits are simply iconic.

-'i'd tell you to go to the mens room, but I don't think you qualify' top paulina transphobic moments. :( and him wearing a tanktop to the swim park? hmmm! (actually I think she was overshadowed by then, so, KITTY top 10 transphobic moments??)

-kitty just piloting paulina around makes me feel SO bad tho, paulina's gonna wake up and be like 'wtf do you mean I was dating this rando' like youre leading danny on to make johnny jealous, and also just POSSESSING POOR PAULINA. dude take your relationship problems ELSEWHERE. last time we saw them, they seemed like such a cute couple!! wtf johnny!! I mean, she sucks for trying to make him jealous, he sucks for looking at other girls...maybe they need a break, but Not Like This. or, you know, just. better communication...

-and the A-listers having a full packet and a stamp system. who organizes this. kwan fucking owning being the new danny though, this is hysterical. THE TUCKER/KWAN FLOWER FIELD TWIRL. UNIRONICALLY ADORABLE. and him giving it his all for the poetry slam. bless his HEARTTTT.

-Star owns. actually, all of the extra characters are shining this ep and I love it.

-INVISO-BILL??? NOOOO THEY DID HIM SOO DIRTY. DANNY SWEETIE IM SO SORRY.

-johnny and danny bein friends and staging a fake fight (which danny takes too seriously, once again this child has aggression he NEEDS TO WORK OUT) I hope these three stay friends, I said it before but danny needs more friendly ghosts to hang with.

-at this point, Danny's ghost enemies are a lot like, I dunno, batman's rouge gallery is the first thing that comes to mind. they all have their own gimmick and unique designs, but most of them are easy to beat after learning the Moral Lesson. I still get excited when any of them show up again, though. 18 is another valerie episode!!!! :D skulker really said you two will get along if I have to handcuff you together <3 and the gym teacher really said, youre married now, have a flour baby! ngl, I'm not really watching this show for the shipping stuff (which I am very scared to look at the fandom for after I finish this watch through- I feel like there's probably discourse/arguing about ships...) but. I'm gonna put my opinion out there. valerie/danny > sam/danny. maybe I just really love the enemies to lovers trope. And the secret identity stuff adds Extra Flavor.

-SKULKER JUST HAVING THE BOX GHOST AND DANGLING HIM BY A STRING. HILARIOUS. and him watching them with binoculars and making his silly little commentary. AND MAKING THE SACK BABY CRY. LMAO. THIS DUDE IS A BABY KIDNAPPER. skulker is super fun

-danny, you just...collapsed the water tower. and then attacked the nasty burger machine...mascot thingy...out of anger..I KEEP SAYING HE'S GOT ANGER ISSUES BUT. HE REALLY NEEDS A LESSON IN MANAGING COLLATERAL DAMAGE!!! So does valerie!! They're both pretty focused on each other. I mean it's good of Danny to say he's trying to make sure PEOPLE don't get hurt, but... (I mean I guess it's not something 14 year olds WOULD worry about, but as an adult im like, who's going to fix that? how much money will that take??)

-TUCKER MAKING BANK. and sam and tucker being super emotionally attached to their flour baby and being pretty good parents. that's cute...also him just straight kissing her and being like. WAIT. O_O JDSKAFHD. his mom baking them into cookies was the funniest possible result. tbh I dont feel like this is on tucker, if anything the other kid's shouldve been more responsible! He was just taking an opportunity to get that $$ which I respect

-Danny being more understanding of Valerie's situation in the end (helping her at her job, too, and trying to keep that a secret for her!!!) And seeing them work together this ep, and also her letting phantom get her out of the ghost zone...was very sweet. LOVE that. more valerie eps pls

-me when I realize vlad's big stupid house exploded because of his own carelessness with changing the ghost portal ectofiltrator or whatever: *pointing and laughing*

-me when I realize it means he's gonna go make danny's life hell for it somehow: >:(

-SCOOBY PARODY!!! I feel like there's gotta be some scooby doo/danny phantom crossover stuff, right? also, 'guys in white' men in black wishes

-'oh, that's right! dad married the love of your life! you're bitter and alone!' DANNNNNYY GET HIS ASS ONCE AGAIN WE ARE POINTING AND LAUGHING AT VLAD

-'jack, you captured the ghost boy!!' UMM. he did nothing <3 'we have a weapon's vault??' YOU HAVE A WEAPONS VAULT??? and jack didnt put a handle on the inside. of fucking course he didnt! why would you leave that to your son!! or expect him to clean YOUR LAB when its where you work with probably dangerous chemicals and weapons and hes 14!! give him normal chores, like, I dunno, vacuuming, laundry, dishes...CMON. I hate it here. But I'm glad Jack is more chill about danny while he's a ghost, and willing to work with him for this ep. AND. I DID ENJOY JACK PUNCHING VLAD IN THE FACE. AND GENERALLY JUST OWNING HIM. the ghost punchy fists are actually amazing. like yeah, just punch a ghost in the face. that rules.

-ep 20 opens with the coolest fucking ghost lady design. her tattoos can come off and fight. MA'AM. I like ur nose ring and your cape maam hello 👉👈😳

-sam's grandma is hilarious and the most valid member of her family and I love her. thats my grandma now. and tucker covering for sam by dressing as her. thats true friendship <3 also skipping school to go to a goth circus. just bestie things! sam's parents are haters but for all the wrong reasons.

-'my family has controlled ghosts with this for generations!' WAIT. WAIT FREAKSHOW /ISNT/ A GHOST? I didn't expect that...he's just a fucked up guy controlling ghosts? anyway watching danny shoot at police cars and rob banks while mind controlled. its like, the most stereotypical 'bad' things lmao. (tbh an evil ghost circus troupe is a sick concept)

this gives off big deviantart emo edit vibes

(I'm going to assume evil circus reaper danny has a lot of fan content. people love an edgy au, except this one is canon (even tho its via mind control...having the protag go evil otherwise might be hard, I guess?) but au where he stays with the troupe...that has to exist, right?)

ANYWAY. excited to start s2!! lowkey surprised by how many notes some of these posts have gotten. I've gone back and tagged them all with 'dp thoughts' so they're easier to find on my blog! ^^ and I will probably possibly do (more) fanart on my art blog after I finish the watch of the whole show, so like. @sanchoyodraws follow my art blog :)

[ssa-dg]

Undercover part 2

part 1, part 2

Overview: the BAU has gone undercover to find a potential unsub who has been drugging, raping and murdering women. It own becomes a potential victim. Having to play her part to catch the bad guy, you go to the party all dressed up and dance with a potential murderer all while pretending he is someone else, Spencer Reid.

TW: drugs, rape (it is mentioned how the unsub rapes his victims. the reader is drugged and the unsub takes advantage of her being drugged and begins to take off her dress), murder, sex, adult themes. if these types of things are triggering for you please don’t read. I’m just a average person who tried their best to not cause people to be upset. If this is problematic I’m sorry I didn’t mean for it to be and will take it down.

Relationship: Spencer Reid x (female)reader

word count: 3228

Author’s note: This is part 2 read part 1 here--so this is my first ever Criminal Minds story. If it garners enough attention I will do more parts (honestly even if it doesn’t I probably will lol) PSA: I have never been under the influence of MDMA and honestly I don’t judge if people who do it consensually and safely (which is harder said then done). this is how I imagine it to be like to be on it. Also I like writing and I like sharing my writing because all of the great fan fics that cause me happiness, if I can cause that reaction just to one person that’s enough for me

You knew you were fucked when you woke up just as disoriented as you went out. It felt like your skin was on fire and not in a bad way. You brought your hand up and examined the feeling of the movement. Then you placed it on your face and dragged it all the way down your neck and over your chest. You closed your eyes in ecstasy, a small moan escaping your lips. You breathed heavily as the feel of your hand caused immense pleasure over your skin. 

“Feels good doesn’t it? I dosed you with my very own special mixture of MDMA,” said the beautiful looking man in front of you, Alistair. You lazily nodded your head. He grabbed your hands and pulled you up to stand in front of him. You didn’t stand a chance of fighting him or getting out of the current situation you were in but your body and mind couldn’t control themselves. He walked around you and placed himself directly behind you. He pressed his body against your back. The touch and heat of his body made your brain feel pleasure. A louder moan then before escaping your lips. He snaked his hands up and down your body. “I don’t want this,” you moaned out. “Of course you do,” he whispered. His lips touching your ear that didn’t have the bug in it and his breath caused shivers to run down your spine. “You can push me away if you want,” he sinisterly laughed and moved to stand in front of you. The look on his face was one of a boy who got everything he ever wanted and he knew he was just going to get it again. But you had to try. You lazily brought your hands up and placed them on his chest. You internally screamed at your hands to push but instead the feeling of the fabric of his suit on your fingertips was too distracting. It felt amazing like nothing you never felt before. “I can’t,” you whispered as you distractedly pinched and rolled the fabric. His hands gripped your waist and pulled you close with a sinister smile. “That’s what I thought,” and he spun you around so he was behind you again. It felt like flying. ”I love that,” you whispered as the feeling died down slowly. “I have something you’ll love even more,” his hot breath gracing your skin again. He slowly took your dress’ zipper in his hands and pulled it down. His fingers danced down your now exposed spine. “I want you to beg for me,” he whispered, taking his fingers off your burning back. You knew you shouldn’t, but your brain wasn’t functioning like it should. You let out a shaky breath. “Please,” you moaned desperately. He chuckled menacingly at your high disoriented begging. 

The door crashed open and it revealed a glowing angel. “Spencer” you cried out in happiness. “Get out,” Alistair screamed, and pushed you behind him. “She’s here on her own accord. She’s mine,” he snarled as he looked at your best friends. You smiled as the other teammates came into the room. You felt lighter than ever, “My friends, I love you all.” You called out and reached for them but Alistair’s grip on you tightened. Quick as ever he brought you in front of him and placed you in a choke hold.

It should have caused fear to run through you, and maybe that’s why it caused such a reaction out of you. Maybe your brain knew it should feel fear but couldn’t produce it so instead it produced happiness and pleasure. You couldn’t control it so you closed your eyes taking in the happiness of being touched on your neck. 

“You need to let her go,” JJ spoke, “we understand the approval of your family is important, do you think they’d be happy to find you doing this?” JJ asked, trying to get him to think about the situation. “Yes! All my family has ever wanted from me was a perfect partner! That was my dad’s dying wish! And finally I’ve found the one and we will consummate it tonight,” he yelled at your friends. That’s when your brain finally was able to produce fear. Consummate? There wasn’t anything you could do to even protect yourself right now. You tried to move but every movement created a false release of serotonin in your brain. Then the anxiety hit. You couldn’t even control your own emotions let alone produce normal ones. It was like an un-rational bubble of anxiety was building in your chest. You couldn’t control anything at this moment. 

“Alistair?” Whispered a soft but horrified voice. “mom?” He responded, “I did it! I finally found her. The one dad always wanted me to have,” proudness dripped from his voice and he went tighter on your neck. Your breathing finally labored. “She’s…she is wonderful, but you need to let her go. She needs to feel safe. That’s the job of a husband to protect and make her happy,” Mrs. Constantine spoke. “I am!” He yelled back. He sounded like a young toddler who thought they did something right but actually didn’t and just wanted someone to be proud of him. Alistair was breaking down, and Spencer saw it. “I gave her the MDMA to help her feel true ecstasy, like dad used to do, with all those women. He made them feel good,” he smiled as if recalling a fond memory. The mother took a shaky breath. “Honey, your dad wasn’t making those girls feel good,” she cried. That’s when JJ stepped in, “He lied to you when you caught him drugging and raping those women. You always saw him as a hero, and he didn’t want you to see him as any different. All dads want their kids to be better than them. Let her go, and be better than your dad,” JJ finished. That got him. He dropped you and you fell immediately to the ground. You felt the beautiful feeling of coldness on your cheeks and realized you were crying. Your fear and anxiety was still there but you could feel the fake happiness creeping back up. You kept trying to push your dress back on your shoulder but you couldn’t get it to stay. Matt and JJ were the one who arrested Alistair. The rest surveyed the room looking for possible souvenirs of the past victims. It was Spencer that came to you. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” His voice sounded higher than usual. “No, no,” you breathed out anxiously. You grabbed him by the fabric of his suit blazer, “I can’t, Spencer, I can’t come down,” You panicked, as you felt the ecstasy take over. You closed your eyes in the moment of happiness. Seeing you like this was painful for Spencer. He knew the feeling of not being able to gain control over your emotions, and he knew it was scary. Your skin was burning and sweat made every curve caught in the light glisten. 

Spencer shifted around to your back. He began to zip up your dress slowly. Where his fingertips touched, made your skin feel like it was burning. Your heart race sped up and your breathing was labored. You closed your eyes and rolled your neck trying to shake the feeling of his touch. Part of Spencer was disgusted by what was happening to you, even though he knew your reaction wasn’t your fault. The disgust also came from a place of self-hatred as he knew what it was like to feel so good being high on something, and even though he was sober now and didn’t want to be high, he was envious of you and he hated that. 

A small breathy moan escaped your lips as he gently placed his hands on your waist to help you up. At this moment Spencer felt himself blush. You looked crazy and frenzied, a desperate look in your eyes for human contact, and that was quite attractive. You stumbled to get up with the help of Spencer and fell back into him. He instinctively fully wrapped his arm around your waist. When you settled on your feet, Spencer moved to let you go but you held tightly to his arm. “Please don’t, it helps me feel like I’m not floating away,” you panicked. Spencer looked uncomfortable and in any other situation that would have broken your heart but right now all you could focus on was his beauty. His long wonderful brown hair, the sharp angles of his jaw and cheek bones, and his soft lips. You wish you could see him smile right now because you loved his smile. You remember the moment you realized his smile was why you fell in love with him. You were out with JJ, Emily, Penelope, and Tara and this time you were the designated driver. So when you dropped off JJ and Spencer was babysitting. You helped JJ get into the house as she was stumbling very badly. Spencer was there on the couch waiting for her reading a book. “Can you get a glass of water and some aspirin? She’s going to need it in the morning,” you spoke as you brought her to the guest bedroom on the first floor (you weren’t even going to try to get her up the stairs). Spencer wasn’t too far behind you and placed the water and pills on the side table. “SPENCER,” JJ yelled at him excitedly. “Oh my gosh Spencer we were just talking about you in the car. And how much we love you and appreciate you. What did you say about him,” JJ asked, turning to you. You blushed greatly and regretted ever hanging out with a drunk JJ. “Nothing important. It’s time you go to bed missy,” you responded as she flopped down on the pillows. Spencer and you walked out of the room into the hallway. He was smiling amusingly at the interaction. He turned that smile to you. That’s when you knew you were in love with that smile. It was such a mundane moment but it was so important to you. (And for the rest of the week he tried to get you to tell him what you said about him, but you didn’t budge.) 

“How is she?” You heard Emily ask Spencer, which snapped you out of your daze. You looked at your unit chief and instantly felt love for her. What a wonderful strong woman. She was everything you could ever hope to be. It was so important to see women like her in the workforce. “I’m not sure how much he gave her, but she’s pretty delirious. Her body temperature is high due to the increase of Norepinephrine released in her brain. We should probably take her to the hospital and have them check her heart rate and her blood pressure,” he reported. “I love the way you talk,” you giggled, “your words are always so fancy and so smart. I hope one day I can be as smart as you.” Spencer gave Emily a look and they both let out a small stressed laugh. 

You couldn’t help the headache that was raging war on you when you woke up. You let out a groan of tiredness when you tried to get yourself up. You felt like a soggy heavy noodle. You opened your eyes to see you were in a hospital room. Images from the night before flashed before your mind causing your headache to intensify. You swung your legs over the side of the hospital bed about to try and get up to see if someone could help you get home. “Glad to see you’re up,” a voice spoke from the doorway. You raised your face up slowly to see none other than Spencer Reid. Your real life knight and shining armor. As fast as relief and safety flooded you, shame and embarrassment replaced it. You looked away from his gaze quickly and hoped he wouldn’t ask about it. “JJ had me bring some clothes you can change into,” he motioned to the bag in his hands. You nodded still not looking him in the eyes “thanks,” you got up slowly and grabbed the bag. You went to the little bathroom in the corner and changed into jeans, a tank top and a sports blazer. When you came out of the room you saw Spencer looking over your medical chart. Once again a rush of shame filled you as flashes of the past night flooded your brain. Spencer sat down in a chair that was close to your bedside. Instantly you knew he was the one who moved that chair by your bedside. You decided to sit down on the bed. You nervously played with the rings on your fingers, twisting them back and forth. “You look much better,” Spencer looked at you. You nodded, not really knowing how to answer him. The shame you felt was deep, of course you looked better than you did last night. “How are you feeling?” He asked you. You knew that this question was coming, and you were ready to lie through your teeth. You didn’t want to delve into what had happened, but the sound of Spencer’s concern caused you to look up into those deep brown eyes you desperately avoided. You couldn’t lie to the eyes you were so madly in love with. “I… I don’t know,” you whisper, “I don’t know how to feel right now. I was almost raped, Spencer. And I should have been scared and filled with fear but all I can remember was wanting it. I wanted it so bad,” you whispered while returning your gaze to your fidgeting hands. You heard Spencer get out of his seat and felt your heart drop. He was leaving, he didn’t want to be around a now damaged person. But then you felt the bed sink next to you and looked up to find Spencer sitting there with concern in his eyes. A soft sad smile graced your lips. “All I feel right now is shame, how can I feel bad for myself if the only memory I have from it is pleasure?” You asked yourself more than Spencer. “You shouldn’t feel shame. It’s not fair to yourself. Everything you felt last night was artificially made. You had no control,” he whispered. A small mocking laugh left your lips and you shook your head in disagreement. More tears fell from your eyes because of the kindness Spencer was showing you. “Its been such a long time since I’ve been happy. It felt nice to feel happy like I did last night. Even if it was artificial, “ you confessed. Spencer didn’t know what to respond to your confession. It broke his heart knowing you didn’t feel happy, and that in a sick way you enjoyed last night. “MDMA causes greater release of serotonin, norepinephrine, and dopamine. Because of the excess release of these neurotransmitter levels, it causes the brain to significantly deplete its sources of the neurotransmitter. This contributes to the negative psychological aftereffects of taking MDMA,” he responded, and from the look of the confusion on your face he translated, “You are not able to produce happiness right now. That is why you feel like you haven’t been happy in a really long time.” You looked at his brown eyes, and recalled, “I love the way you talk.” You heard him let out a small laugh. 

Getting on the jet was terrible. The way everyone stared at you like you were about to break, was causing you to panic. You couldn’t even produce a smile to comfort them. Instead you gave them a small nod, and went to the back of the jet away from everyone. Spencer, gave you space even though all you wanted was him near you. You wanted him next to you, to feel supported. It wasn’t until 10 minutes after the jet took off for everyone to fall into their usual routine. JJ, Tara, and David sitting around the table, Matt already working on his report so he could get back to his family. Luke was on his phone probably checking in with his dog sitter, and Spencer was talking to Emily. Everyone was okay, just another case in their back pockets, but for you right now you felt anger and sorrow. You put your team through an unnecessary amount of stress and struggle, and yet they all seemed fine. Even Spencer who in some sick way you thought would be struggling the most looked fine. It wasn’t fair that your emotions were so confusing. You wanted the team to be fine, you didn’t want to be the reason to cause them pain or stress, but also you didn’t want them to be okay because if they could be okay after something like this happening you then maybe they didn’t care for you like you thought they did. And the feeling of neglect ate away at you more than anything. 

Emily was the first to come talk to you on the jet. Spencer sat on the opposite end of the plane pretending to read after he was done talking to Emily. He tried to tell her about how you were feeling. He warned Emily about all negative effects of MDMA. As in most situations he used his knowledge to help him figure out the best course of action, this was no different, except that it was you. When it came to you he couldn’t ignore the feelings that shadowed his thoughts. He didn’t know how to help you, other than give you a moment to yourself. Emily told you that she wanted you to take 30 days off, with some bureau provided therapy with an evaluation at the end. It was something you were not happy about. You couldn’t help but feel like you were letting the team down. By going on leave, the team would be down one less person, but with that thought came the one about if they end up doing better without you then you were unneeded. It was wrong of you to think that way. You knew that, but your brain kept taking you to dark places you didn’t want to be in. 

When the jet landed, and the team was brought back to the FBI HQ-BAU office, you gathered your things quickly shoving them in your bags. You looked up to see everyone doing the same. Then the whole team came by your desk, “if you need anything, while you are on leave, let us know,” JJ reassured. “We’ve all been in a similar situation before. There is no shame in that,” Luke insisted. You nodded your head in thanks, too afraid to speak and cause the tear in your eyes to fall. “You did good,” Rossi said as he clapped you on the back. Small touches, and whispers of comfort came from your team as they all filled out. The last waiting for you was Spencer. He stood there with his leather satchel around his shoulder and his hands in his pockets. He rocked back and forth on his feet. “I thought we could take the metro together,” he offered. You nodded your head. He looked like he wanted to say more but didn’t. 

[btsqualityy]

Scripted: Part 12

Namjoon x Reader; Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, President!Namjoon, Head of Security!Jimin

Warnings: (Reluctant) open relationship, mentions of cheating

Author’s Note: People that are in my tag list have been saying that they have not been getting the notifications that I’ve tagged them whenever I post a new part. I know it may sound harsh, but there’s really nothing that I can do about it. I’m not sure why Tumblr doesn’t allow some people to be tagged, but I have no idea on how to fix it. Anyways, I know this chapter is a little bare bones but that’s because the next two chapters are gonna be a ride loves lol I hope you guys enjoy it!

Everyone has those moments in their life where they have to admit that maybe, they’ve bitten off a little bit more than they can chew. Jimin has had many of these moments throughout his 25 years of life.

Being Chief of Naval Operations and being in charge of hundreds of men and being responsible for their lives on a daily basis provided Jimin with that feeling often. Hell, that feeling is part of what spurred him to take the job as Head of Security for you and Namjoon; in his way of thinking, it would be easier to be responsible for the lives of two people rather than hundreds. However, he never had to worry about falling in love and that potentially making it hard for him to do his job before, until he met you. 

Jimin couldn’t tell if he was in love with you or not. He loved being around you, because you ended up being so much different than what he had thought you’d be. You were funny, and sweet, and one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen in his life (besides his mother and Hana). You also were the strongest person he knew, replacing even himself because he still hasn’t been able to wrap his mind around how you deal with the whole “arrangement” thing. Also, he had never fallen for someone as quickly as he had for you; not even his ex-fiancee, so it kind of scared him.  

Despite how much Jimin liked you though, the obvious situation between you and Namjoon gave him pause, and rightfully so. While Jimin genuinely cared for you and found himself falling more for you everyday, he didn’t know if he’d be willing to wait another four and a half years until Namjoon’s term as President was up. If he did, that would mean four and a half years of sneaking around, not being able to show you off, and of having to tip toe around your husband. Jimin had always known that though; Hell, he knew it when he kissed you for the first time at the marketplace. It didn’t really hit him though, until Namjoon threatened him.

Threats didn’t bother Jimin. He was a fucking Naval Chief, for crying out loud. If it ever came to it, he knew he could kick Namjoon’s ass with no issues. The issue was that Jimin didn’t want to have to deal with that for four and a half more years. He didn’t want there to be this sense of competition between the two of them because in Jimin’s eyes, there was no competition. He was obviously the better choice, but how do you compete with someone’s husband, even if they are trash?

And these thoughts are what caused Jimin to kind of back off you a little bit. You guys were still talking and seeing each other almost every day, but there weren’t as many hugs, not as many kisses. Despite how much Jimin cared for you, he had already been hurt once and he was going to do his best not to let it happen again, his feelings be damned. 

“Park,” Namjoon called out and Jimin shook his head as he broke out of his thoughts and looked over at the President. Today, Namjoon was dedicating a new park that was built in memory of a fallen soldier in the Army. The whole occasion was very visible in terms of press, and there were many notable figures in Korea that were present. 

“Yes Sir?” Jimin replied.

“Make sure that you’re paying attention,” Namjoon told him firmly, and Jimin nodded in affirmation. “As soon as the speech is over, we’ll be saying hello to a few people and then leaving straight after.”

“Yes Sir,” Jimin repeated and Namjoon turned around, letting another one of the security guards lead him behind the stage. You then turned to Jimin once Namjoon was out of earshot, giving him a small, apologetic smile. 

“Sorry about him,” you said. “He’s been an even bigger dick than usual lately. I think it’s the farmer's crisis.”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine,” Jimin shrugged, looking down at his watch and you frowned lightly at his dismissive tone.

“Hey, you ok?” You asked softly, moving closer to him and letting your hand brush against his. “You’ve been acting weird lately.”

“I’m fine,” he told you, looking up at you and setting his hand on your lower back. “The speech is about to start so we need to get you to your seat.” You let him lead you down the steps and down into the seating area where all the guests were, plastering a fake smile onto your face as you waved to several of Namjoon’s colleagues. 

.................................................

If someone had asked you what Namjoon discussed in his dedication speech, you’d have no idea how to respond to them and that’s because your mind was preoccupied. Something was wrong, and you knew it. Jimin wasn’t necessarily acting different towards you, but he was indifferent and that rubbed you the wrong way. 

Once the speech was over and all of the guests present began to mingle, you were talking to the wife of the National Assembly leader when Namjoon stepped over to you.

“Hey, I ran into some old friends so we’re all going to go to lunch and catch up,” Namjoon informed you. “Did you want to come?”

“Um, I think I’ll go back to the House actually,” you smiled. “The benefit is in three days and I need to make sure everything’s in place.”

“Of course,” Namjoon nodded, leaning over and kissing your cheek. “Jimin’s gonna see you home and I’ll see you tonight.”

“Ok, be safe,” you told him and he smiled and nodded before turning and walking away.

“The two of you are such a beautiful couple,” Jisoo, the National Assembly leader’s wife gushed and you just chuckled. 

“Thank you Jisoo-ssi. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll be heading out now,” you said. “I do hope that I’ll see you Saturday at the benefit.”

“Absolutely,” Jisoo nodded. “I’ll be bringing my husband and his wallet.”

“Perfect,” you laughed, leaning over and kissing her cheek before waving and walking away from her to find Jimin, who was standing near the stage that had been set up for Namjoon to give his speech.

“Ready to go?” Jimin guessed before you could even say anything and you nodded your head.

“Beyond,” you murmured, expecting Jimin to at least chuckle at that but he just spoke some words into his earpiece before gesturing for you to walk in front of him. You just did as he wanted, making your way through the large crowd of guests and saying your goodbyes before you and Jimin made it to the front of the park, where your large limousine was waiting.

“After you,” Jimin said as he opened the door and held it for you, waiting for you to slide inside before he did the same and shut the door behind him.

“Just back to the Blue House,” Jimin told your driver, who nodded and rolled up the partition for you.

“I’m exhausted,” you whined, reaching down and pulling your high heels off of your feet. 

“You didn’t sleep last night, did you?” Jimin questioned and you shook your head.

“I did, but not much,” you admitted. “I’ve just been so anxious about the benefit, especially since it’s the first event that I’m spearheading as First Lady.”

“It’ll be fine Y/N-ah,” he assured you, reaching over and patting your knee lightly. “You’ve gone over every detail with painstaking accuracy.”

“I hope so,” you huffed with a smile but the smile promptly went away when Jimin dropped his hand away from your knee. “Jimin, are we ok?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Jimin nodded but he didn’t look at you when he said it, and that kind of set you off.

“Jimin, don’t do this,” you snapped and Jimin looked up at you in surprise. 

“Don’t do what?” He questioned.

“I’m already married to a man who doesn’t talk to me about things, I don’t want that with you too,” you muttered softly and Jimin’s eyes widened.

“No no no,” he tutted, moving closer to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulders and you leaned into him, reveling in his touch. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

“Then why haven't you been talking to me?” You demanded gently. 

“I wanted to give you time to think,” he replied and your brows furrowed in confusion. “And give myself time to think too.”

“Think about what?”

“About us,” he said. “I know that you don’t want to be with Namjoon anymore but you also said that you aren’t sure how to get out of it, and I don’t know if I’d be willing to wait for four and a half more years.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” You wondered.

“Because I didn’t want you thinking that I’m having second thoughts about what we’ve been developing,” he said, reaching over with his free hand and grabbing yours, intertwining your fingers with his. “My feelings for you are serious baby bird, and I just wanted to make sure that I was comfortable with it.”

“Because of my situation and your ex?” You asked/guessed and Jimin nodded.

“Developing feelings for a new person after you break up with someone that you thought you were gonna spend the rest of your life with is hard,” Jimin admitted. “I know that it’s taken a lot for you to be able to feel like you can trust me after everything that’s happened between you and Namjoon, but it’s taken a lot for me to be able to trust you too.”

“And I recognize that,” you nodded, taking your hand away from his and gently grabbing his chin. “I hope you realize that I don’t take your trust in me lightly.”

“I know you don’t,” Jimin smiled softly. 

“And my feelings for you are just as serious,” you confessed, a shy smile on your lips. “You’ve made me fall for you, Park Jimin.”

“Yeah?” He whispered and as soon as he registered the nodding of your head, he smashed his lips onto yours. Moaning in surprise, you moved your hand from his chin and set it on his neck as you kissed him back.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” You asked against his lips and he pulled away from you.

“Nothing much, since I’m off duty,” he told you. “Why?”

“How about if I come to your place tomorrow night and show you just how serious about you I really am?” You suggested and Jimin’s breathing visibly became uneven. “I guess that’s a yes?”

“That’s a fuck yes,” he replied breathlessly, making you laugh. “As much as I’d love it that though, don’t you have another event with Namjoon tomorrow night?”

“I can make up an excuse,” you replied immediately. “Say that I’m sick or something. I could say anything really and Namjoon probably wouldn’t even question it.”

“If you’re sure,” he relented and you grinned, leaning over and kissing him again. And that’s how the two of you stayed for the rest of the ride back to the Blue House, pressed up against each other in the backseat with passionate kisses and wandering hands. 

“Jimin, we’re here,” you giggled, the feeling of Jimin leaving kisses on your neck tickling your skin. 

“You sure about tomorrow night?” He double checked as he pulled away from your neck to look at you, and you nodded.

“More than sure,” you promised, pressing a quick peck to his lips before you bent down and quickly slipped your heels back on. He then turned around and opened the door, getting out of the limousine and holding the door open for you as you slid out. Once he shut the door, the two of you walked up the steps of the Blue House together.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” You said and Jimin smiled.

“Absolutely. I l-,” he almost told you but he caught himself, trying to ignore the suspicious look you gave him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye Jimin,” you giggled, giving him a quick wink before you turned around and opened the front door, stepping inside and shutting the door behind you. Jimin let out a breath that he hadn’t even know he was holding, his shoulders sagging when the reality of what he had almost let slip out of his mouth began to set in.

“God, I’m loosing my fucking mind over her,” Jimin chuckled, running both of his hands over his face as he turned and walked back down the steps, his mind wrapping around the fact that he now had the answer to whether he loved you or not. 

......................................................

Tag List:  @toddsgirl27 @leftieaquarius @joyfulkmusicfan @jennyjq @xcharlottemikaelsonx @pop228 @belatona @babebri144 @dragonqueen01 @paolaa9700 @yiarsan @sunshinein17 @daydreambrliever @lyralefayc @weirdestpersoninearth @peachesandcreamsthings @missseoulite @ramengrace @minyoongi-infiresme @0minabean0 @korkanswers @dchimminie @mysr3 @emily2404xx @leilalago @vonvi-blog @btsxdoll @heartfeltscribblings @nooooooooona @eternalmoonji @lyralefay @jikooksgirl19 @cloudbuffalo​ @moonsjoons @kjooniesbabygirl​

[amydancepants-peralta]

10 and 24 for the festive prompts :)

(please excuse me while I hang my head in shame, for this was 1: received last year, and 2: still didn’t manage to appear before Christmas this year.) 🤦🏼‍♀️ Best laid plans really do be elusive, huh?  @ Anon, I'm sorry this is so late, and I hope you’re still around! ♥️ 

Prompts - 10: I don’t care what you say, The Nightmare Before Christmas works for Christmas and Halloween! and 24: Secret Santa is bullshit. 

(for the sake of this story and b99′s vague timelines, this is set pre-manhunter and post-casecation).  (ao3)

all the lights are shining (so brightly everywhere) 

Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa la la la lah, la la lah lahhh …

Amy sighs, tapping her feet - sadly, trapped in a curled up shoe, and does her best to ignore the jingle that comes from its dangling bell.

Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la lah, la la lah lahhh …

Christmas Carols have always been a favourite of hers, forever singing along to the melody despite being told by many that she really shouldn’t.  They were joyful and uplifting and reminders of everything wonderful about the holiday season.  But tonight, she’s been standing post for three hours, listening to Z-List celebrity covers of sacred songs of hope; and as a result has spent 85% of her time hatching a plan to find the source of the music and put an end to everyone’s misery.

Don we now our gay apparel, fa la la, fa la la, fa la lahhh …

Jake’s off-key singing voice filters in through her earpiece, and a tiny smile finds it’s way onto her face.  

“Troll the ancient yule-tide carol, fa la la la laaaa, la la la laaa! … Wait, troll?  That can’t be right!  Hey Ames, do you think trolls celebrate Christmas?”

Knowing that answering would blow her cover, Amy remains quiet; nodding slowly both to the beat and her husband’s question as the track fades away and a new atrocity begins.  

Seriously, she needs to find out where this music is coming from.  

From underneath her undercover position as Head Elf of Candy Cane Lane, Amy shifts uncomfortably, resisting the urge to tug down the tinsel edged skirt that hovered just a little too high for her liking.  She wanted to burn the bra she had chosen to wear tonight (digging into her ribcage like it did), save for the fact that it was very expensive and very beautiful, and very much worn this evening with the sole purpose of seducing her husband.

Work had descended into pure madness in the past fortnight, with both her and Jake’s schedules descending from holding relative similarities to polar opposites.  And maybe it was the surplus of romantic movies on every single TV channel, or the scores of advertisements reminding her that the holiday season was for being together with loved ones (for Jake Peralta was most certainly Amy’s Loved One) - either way, Amy had begun to miss spending nights alone with her husband something fierce.  

Tonight’s plan had been so simple, it had barely required a binder.  Wait until it’s nearly Jake’s finish time, don sexy lingerie, cover up with comfy clothes and go pick up her unsuspecting husband from work.  Let him unlock the door when finally home, then jump his bones right there on the couch - giving Jake just enough time to discover the red lacy set and look at her the way he always manages to do - like she’s the most beautiful woman in the world.  Then, sexy timez.  Lots of sexy timez.

And it had all been working so well - until she’d shown up at the precinct unannounced (Jake being too distracted to notice the text she’d sent him), and immediately found herself getting wrapped up in a sting her old squad were devising.  

In a spark of true evil, one of Brooklyn’s most elusive drug runners - Art Akemi - had invented a new way to dodge any of his drug shipments from being discovered; deciding to build candy canes around the narcotics so that to the unaware eye, they would appear completely innocuous.  

Unfortunately, one of his most recent handovers had gotten mixed up with actual candy canes, resulting in several innocent members of the public ending up in hospital with mysterious drug overdoses.  It had taken the 99 and their neighbouring precincts days to piece together Akemi’s plans, and just this afternoon Rosa had been given a lead that suggested a handoff with the kingpin and one of his henchmen would be happening at Santa’s Village that very evening.  

It was brazen, to set up an exchange of illegal narcotics in a public access area - particularly, one frequented by children and families alike - but also completely on brand for someone like Akemi.  The squad needed to work fast, and work smart; running through the finer details of their mission when Amy had arrived.    

And yes, perhaps her FOMOW had reached an all-new peak as she listened to the detectives speak, and perhaps she hadn’t really thought about what she was volunteering herself for - but the next thing Amy knew she was Holly the Christmas Elf, toes squeezed into surprisingly curly shoes as she fielded questions from children and waited for any signs of wrong-doing.   

It has been twenty-five minutes since Santa had disappeared to ‘feed the reindeer’ (aka disappearing to the back docks for a quick drag of a cigarette), and just as Amy was beginning to wonder if a search party needs to be called, she feels a gentle tug on her hand, looking down to find a little boy no older than five gazing up at her with awe.

“D’ya think Santa is busy making da presents?"

His eyes are wide - filled with the kind of awe that every child seems to get when they are lulled by the magic of Christmas - and as Amy crouches to match his diminutive height, she can’t help but notice how the unkempt curls on his head remind her of a photo with a similar aged Jake that Karen had once shown her.

(He had been mid-discovery of a fairy garden, one built by his Nana and immediately claimed as his own, and the sheer joy in his face had made Amy’s heart swell, even years later through the faded colours of an oft-cherished photograph.)

“You know, I bet he is.”  Scanning the crowd for that familiar mixture of red and white but coming up blank, she turns her attention back to the little boy.  “Santa’s magic like that, don’t you think?”

The child’s nod is so enthusiastic the tiny curls on his head begin to bounce, turning quickly as his searching father calls out his name.  “Just a little longer, and you can tell him all of your wishes, okay?”

“Da elf said Santa’d building da presents Daddy!”  The child runs back towards his father’s outstretched hand, and Amy gives the adult an understanding smile as he lifts his son back into his arms.  From his undercover position at a nearby popcorn stand; Jake catches Amy’s eye as she returns to her earlier position, giving him a tiny smile when he throws her a wink.  

The topic of parenthood - of them trying to have a baby, one day - had been mentioned by both more than a few times since their anniversary; and the regular use of the word when rather than if ignited a sense of hope in Amy that made her stomach flutter every single time.  While the enormity of it all still scared Jake - still scared Amy, if she were to be completely honest - what always seemed to remain after each conversation was the understanding that even if it scared them: together they’d figure out how to get through it.  

(Last month’s arrival of Miguel’s baby girl Adamaris, and the sight of Jake cradling her in his careful arms, had definitely not helped, playing on a loop in Amy’s mind for several days after their visit.)

“Nothing beats a bit of Santa magic, hey Santiago?”  Jake’s tone is light and playful, and only serves to remind Amy just how much she’s missed talking to him these last few weeks.  

Rolling her eyes slightly, she tucks her head downward, playing the pretence of adjusting her costume as she speaks into the hidden mic.  “Ha ha, Peralta.  Santa is magic, especially to cute kids like that one.  No way was I going to be the one to burst the Santa bubble.”

With a stuttered gasp, Jake slaps a hand against his chest, and a passing stranger gives him the side eye.  “Wait a minute.  Are you suggesting that Santa is fake?!”  

“Santa is real, Peralta.  As is this very real mission to take down Akemi.  Time to focus up.”  Terry’s firm tone breaks through the earpiece, busting into Jake and Amy’s conversation, and a sheepish grin breaks out on Jake’s face.  

“Right you are, sarge.  This is Super Serious Santa Shutdown Situation.”  Shoving several pieces of popcorn into his mouth, Jake waits a beat before continuing.  “Ames wasn’t wrong, tho.  That kid was a cutie.”

The unspoken addition of but ours will be cuter lingers between them, and Amy feels her skin warm up under Jake’s faraway gaze.  

Maybe this bra was going to come in use after all.  

Rosa’s voice cuts through the unsaid, her tone steady as she moves in closer from her position at a nearby payphone.  “Heads up - Santa’s back.  And it looks like they’ve swapped out their player.”

Immediately switching into detective mode, Jake shields his face from the new Santa’s sight as he passes, already very aware of earlier (unsuccessful) run-in’s with the kingpin.  “That really looks like Akemi.”  

“Santiago, can you get close enough to confirm?”

Handing out Christmas tree shaped cookies to the children milling around her position, Amy glances up just in time to catch the replacement Santa as he walks into the village.  With the cocky swagger of a man who rarely pays any consequences for his actions, this version of Father Christmas looked paler and far more arrogant than the man wearing the costume earlier.  

Pushing past the waiting children with barely any acknowledgment of their tiny hellos, New Santa pauses on his way to his plush red throne; snapping his gum and giving Amy a very jolly (read: creepy) once-over with his eyes.  Glancing quickly in Terry’s direction, she gives a subtle nod.  Akemi’s case file has landed on almost every detective in New York’s desk at one point or another, and she’d recognised that hard gaze anywhere.  

“Well, well, well … don’t you look good enough to sit atop my Christmas tree.”

Acutely aware of their audience, and knowing that the red and white striped stockings covering her legs would definitely be restrictive if she needed to go full ninja on Santa’s ass, Amy quickly chooses to plaster on a bright and shiny grin.  “So glad you’ve made it back from the North Pole, Santa.  We’ve got lots of excited children just bursting to see you!”

“Yeah, whatever.”  Akemi leans in, an unwelcome mixture of tobacco and sweat washing over Amy, and it’s all she can do to not recoil in disgust as he lowers his voice.  “I’m only interested in one thing, lady, and once I got it I’m outta here.  But don’t you worry, there’ll be plenty of room on my sleigh for you.”

“Ok.  I don’t give a damn about any Christmas magic, Ames.  If he tries to make you kiss him under that mistletoe, I swear to god I will punch Santa right in the face.”

“Cool it, Peralta.”  Terry’s clenching jaw is almost audible in his response, and Amy takes a slow and calming breath, safe in the knowledge that her squad most definitely has her back. 

“Right.  Yep.  Cool it.   Cool cool cooling it.”  Each member of the team watches from their position as Santa saunters over to his seat, throwing several finger guns to waiting mothers as he goes; and Jake lets out a snort of disgust.  “So … has everyone gotten their Secret Santa present organised yet?  Rosa, you need some shopping tips?”

“No.  Secret Santa is bullshit.”

“It’s a fun holiday tradition that you are definitely participating in and if you picked my name I’d really love a voucher for that sneaker store on 28th.”

“I don’t have you, Peralta.”

“Yep.  No problemo.  Just saying.  In case you do.”

To her right, Amy notices Terry’s unmissable frame break through the crowd.  “Heads up, guys.  Looks like Santa’s buddy has found his way into the queue.”  With his wooly beanie and scores of shopping bags clutched in his hands, their sergeant blended in relatively easily as just another father doing some last minute panic shopping; but they all knew one flex of his oversized muscles would break that facade fairly easily.  

A silence falls over the comms as they watch Santa breeze through child after child, giving them barely any attention as his target draws closer; and slowly both Jake and Rosa close the gap from the other sides.  

Pulling out a poorly wrapped parcel and handing the gift to Akemi, the unshaven man at the front of the queue feigns surprise when Santa reaches into the sack next to his throne, handing the supposed stranger an oversized bag of ‘candy canes’.  

“There’s the exchange.  Boyle, can you confirm you got the footage?”

“With a beautiful slow zoom that really captures the thrum of festive anticipation hovering amongst the crowd, sarge.”

Cringing slightly, Jake shakes his head at Charles’ description as his eyes follow the bag of candy canes, their new recipient now walking at a steady pace towards the exit.  “We’re going to lose this guy if we don’t move now.”  

“Go, Peralta.  Diaz, you run backup.  Amy and I will take care of Santa.”

With a grin, Jake breaks into a fast walk, already focused in his pursuit.  “Alright, taking down a bad Santa in a public environment.  Now it feels like Christmas!”

“We’re going to wait until Akemi has left the village, Peralta.  You know, try not to break a bunch of children’s hearts?”

“You do you, Terry!”  

*

*

There are still remnants of festive glitter in Amy’s hair as she and Jake walk up the stairs of their apartment building several hours later, both of them slightly weary from the hours of paperwork and debriefing that took place after Santa’s Village.  

“Boy, bet thats the last time you come to the precinct and pick me up on your night off, huh Ames?”  The apology is obvious in Jake’s tone, and Amy glances over her shoulder to give him a reassuring smile.  Even if it hadn’t been in her original plan, she still got to spend the night hanging with her husband (although in a slightly different capacity than originally planned), and she was choosing to count that as a win.  (A small win, but a win all the same.)

“Yeah, maybe.”

“I’m really sorry you got pulled into all of that, babe.  I just didn’t see your message in time, or I would have … hey, Ames?”  The touch of his hand against her forearm is gentle, pulling her in with the quiet strength she knows her husband to possess, and Amy turns towards Jake without hesitation.  His eyes search her face, immediately seeing through her concealed defeat, and he really is the only one for her.  “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.  I just …” she feels a blush rush over her cheeks again, suddenly feeling ridiculous as she thinks of how to divulge her secret plan.  The underwire from the damn bra digs into her skin again as she squirms, and if tonight has taught Amy anything, it’s why lingerie like this is only designed to stay on until your partner rips it off seconds after reveal.  

“Babe?”

“It just feels like forever since we’ve had a night at home, just the two of us.”  Jake’s brows knit, and Amy leans in to rest both hands against her husbands chest.  “And I know that work has been crazy lately, and that it’ll eventually calm down again, I just … I’d sorta planned on tonight going differently once you were home.”

“Oh god, and instead you ended up in a glittery elf costume with a creep leering at you.”  Left hand slapping against his face in shame, Jake shakes his head in obvious frustration. 

“I mean, we can mainly blame my FOMOW for that, babe.  It doesn’t matter, really.  If I hadn’t been there, you might have gotten home even later so when you think about it, it’s way better we - mmfph -” the rest of Amy’s argument stops in it’s tracks as Jake pulls her in for a kiss, the gentle but insistent press of his lips against hers casting any other thoughts far to the side. 

The familiar touch of his hands as they roam against the outline of her butt causes Amy to melt entirely in Jake’s arms, resting her arms against his steady shoulders as her fingers slide into his hair.  This - these tiny moments where the world seemed to fade away and all she could feel was Jake - was what she’d been craving for weeks.  

Jake sighs against her lips, letting her tongue slip into his mouth as he shuffles ever so closer to her, and maybe he’d been missing this just as much as she.  

“So,” Jake whispers as he pulls away from the kiss, leaning in to brush his lips against Amy’s once more.  “Time to get this night back in track.”  Another kiss.  “What kind of plans did you make for us, Santiago?”

“Lets just say … the lingerie I’ve got on under here is going to blow your mind, Peralta.”

“Going to blow your mind, title of our sex tape.”

Amy nods, biting her lower lip as she steps out of Jake’s embrace, gesturing towards their apartment.  “But it’s also really uncomfortable.  C’mon, let's get inside before it ends up in the dumpster.”

Jake’s footsteps echo behind Amy’s, hands landing on her hips as she digs for the keys.  “I’m declaring it now, Ames.  Tomorrow night we’re both leaving early and staying in for movie night at home.  Phones off, popcorn, everything for the full movie experience.  We can watch Die Hard and Love Actually and Nightmare before Christmas …”

Amy’s nose crinkles at the last movie, unlocking their front door and tugging her husband through as it swings open.  “Didn’t we watch that last one for Halloween?”

“I don’t care what you say, The Nightmare Before Christmas works for Christmas and Halloween!”

“Jake …”  

“Christmas is literally in the title, babe!”

Pulling him closer, Amy takes a leaf out of her husband’s handbook, silencing him with a definitely not PG rated kiss now that the risk of being discovered by a neighbour had slimmed to none.  

Jake’s arms wrap around her middle in response, holding Amy close as her fingers begin to trace the edge of his buttons, and she lets out a sigh of satisfaction that finally her initial plan was coming to fruition.  

Next time, though, she might add a sub-section into the binder about potential diversions, and how to avoid them (not join them) - FOMOW be damned.  This stuff was way more fun.

[asingleheart-shapedbraincell]

Parasite (Prologue)

I watched Venom last night, and now this exists. I have co-opted the plot for fanfiction with some added occultism and Halloween flavour for Spice™ .This is part one, basically works as a prologue, and then it’ll split into a chapter for each brother.

tw: implied drinking, occultism and demonic possession

GN!MC

Prologue

‘Twas Spooky Season and you were dressed as a shitty zombie because Halloween parties have the best snacks. A girl with long acrylic nails painted to look like candy-corn passed you a bright green jello shot. It tasted like limeade and cough syrup, yet somehow worse than both of those. She laughed at the face you pulled and passed you a can of lemonade to chase the taste away. When you cracked it open, it fizzed over slightly - not enough for you to suspect foul play, but enough that you were going to have a sticky hand. Still better than another jello shot though. It was quite crowded inside the house and the loud music was starting to get on your nerves a little bit, so you pointed out the door and mouthed ‘I’m gonna go outside!’ The girl gave you a smile and a thumbs up before turning back round to the shots table.

Outside the air was crisp and cold and full of the smell of woodsmoke and apple cider. A small gathering of people were sat around the bonfire nursing steaming mugs and chatting by the firelight. You wandered over to the punchbowl and scooped yourself a mug of cider, pulling the sleeves of your ratty, zombie-fied jumper over your hands to hold the hot mug before heading over to the group and settling yourself down next to them. 

‘- but when she left the tent, she realised that it hadn’t been rain dripping on the tent, it had been blood,’ one of them was finishing a scary story and you settled in to hear the end of it, ‘and above her tent was her husband’s dead body.’

‘What killed the husband?’ You quietly asked the person next to you.

‘Demon,’ he replied.

You nodded and took a sip of the apple cider. It was delicious - not too sweet, well spiced, and the perfect hot drink for an autumn night (though you did have to strain small pieces of cinnamon bark through your teeth).

You leant over again to whisper: ‘Who summoned it?’ 

‘The wife.’

‘That’s one way to collect the life insurance,’ you mumbled back, causing him to laugh into his drink.

Someone flopped down next to you, ‘he’s not telling that stupid demon story again, is he?’ You looked over to see candy-corn nails roll her eyes at the storyteller before giving you a smile - ‘he’s a one track record.’

‘Any good story is just as good during a retelling as it is during the first,’ he huffed.

‘That’d be a fair point if you’d been telling a good story,’ she replied.

The group ooo-ed at that.

‘Well, you tell one then, if you’re such an expert.’

She ignored him, ‘Demons are just such a cop-out! The story’s always the same - you summon them, they go on a rampage, then someone sends them back to Hell. It’s too predictable!’

‘What are you talking about?! That’s still a great story!’

‘I refuse to be scared of a monster that can be beaten by a nun.’

‘Oh please - you’d be terrified if you ever met a demon.’

‘No I wouldn’t!’

‘Yes you would!’

Their argument rather revolved from there into bickering, which no-one bothered to interrupt because it was as entertaining as a scary story. You leant over to your neighbour again - ‘my money’s on her to win.’

‘You’re on,’ he said with a grin.

‘Then prove it,’ the challenge grabbed both of your attentions, ‘go get that ouija board from inside,’ the guy said.

‘Ouija boards are for ghosts you idiot,’ she replied.

‘We need to draw a pentagram,’ your neighbour said.

‘Oh, don’t get involved, Solomon!’ Someone sitting across you said, but he just smiled in reply. Well... this was going to be an interesting evening.

~~~

‘I got candles from the kitchen!’

‘Excellent!’ Solomon replied, ‘we need them at all five corners of the pentagram.’

You watched on as Solomon instructed people on what to do for the summoning spell and he seemed pretty confident for someone attempting to summon a demon on Halloween. So someone could win an argument. Some of the more superstitious people had left to go back to the party, but it’s not like you believed in demons and anyway - this was more interesting than jello shots and loud music.

Candles were being shoved at the points Solomon had drawn with a stick from the bonfire - five points, with the bonfire in the centre. It was certainly very theatrical, you had to hand it him.

‘Okay, now you stand here,’ Solomon said, positioning someone behind a candle, ‘and you stand here.’

He turned to look at the other points of the pentagram. There were two left. his eyes fell on you - ‘What was your name again?’

‘MC.’

‘MC, you stand behind that candle for me?’

You obliged, making sure not to kick it over, and Solomon walked over to the final candle next to you.

‘Do we hold hands or something?’ You asked.

‘Why?’ Solomon asked, smirking, ‘Are you scared?’

You rolled your eyes, and Solomon started murmuring in what sounded like Latin, but is was very faint and it wasn’t like you were fluent enough to know if he was faking of not. You turned to look at the bonfire at the centre. Just beyond it you could see candy-corn nails flipping off her storytelling friend, but then something in the bonfire caught your eye. Or maybe it didn’t? The bonfire didn’t look any different, but it had captured your attention fully. Probably Solomon’s showmanship. Was it bigger? A log collapsed inside and a shower of sparks and woodsmoke plumed out to stain the night sky - the wood inside popping and snapping like breaking bones and for a moment you thought you could hear strange music...

Your vision felt hazy and you tried to clear the smoke from your throat - your overactive imagination and those gross jello shots were mixing together poorly. And the heavy smoke wasn’t helping. You felt queasy and dizzy and no longer in the mood to play pretend for the sake of someone else’s argument. You scrubbed your sleeve over your eyes - not caring about the Halloween makeup - you just wanted the smoke out of them long enough to feel steadier. But it didn’t work. In fact, you felt decidedly unsteady.

‘I think I’ve had too much,’ you manage to mumble out, before everything went black.

~~~

When you woke up, you were in an unfamiliar bedroom, the sound of the party still going slightly muffled. The girl with the candy-corn nails was sat at the foot of the bed, she had put a pair of small costume horns onto a teddy bear and was half-heartedly playing with its little paws. You shifted and she jumped slightly, looking at you and breaking into a grin -

‘You’re awake!’ She said, sighing in relief, ‘How’re you feeling?’

‘Still a bit dizzy, but a lot better.’

‘The wind was blowing the smoke right into your face - I probably would have passed out too. I got you a glass of water, by the way,’ she said, pointing to the bedside table.

‘Thanks,’ you said, talking a long drink - your throat still felt itchy from all the smoke.

‘I’m sorry, by the way - it was all because of me and Jessie, I shouldn’t have let Solomon drag us into that whole ritual, not without making sure everyone was safe.’

‘You scared of demons all of a sudden?’ You asked with a half-hearted grin.

She snorted, ‘No. Demons aren’t real. But people getting hurt - that’s real.’

‘Apology accepted.’

‘Can I call you cab? I’m guessing you want to head home. I’ll pay for it - it’s the least I can do.’

‘Yeah, okay,’ you said, finishing that water - you still felt kinda dizzy, ‘thanks.’ 

~~~

Who’d you get possessed by?

Lucifer

Mammon

Leviathan

Satan

Asmodeus

Beelzebub

Belphagor

(Links will be added as the chapters are written - be patient, I have no concept of time, and also university work to be getting on with, but feel free to send me a reminder if you feel like it. I shamelessly thrive off of audience engagement)

[magic-number-3]

okay so i actually did watch a few episodes of 911 this week without liveblogging them but i did take notes as if i was liveblogging and then just,,, didnt lmao so in case anyone cares about my thoughts im going to share them anyway asdlfkjsdl mostly i think they’ll just be fun to look at later

2x02

CHRISTOPHER CAN BE ON SCREEN FOR 2 SECONDS AND I LITERALLY LOVE HIM SO MUCH

Eddie Diaz is soooooo fuckin dreamy i stgggggg

“I cant order you guys to go inside that building and im not gonna judge you if you decide not to” “Hen, you got a kid, so...” “Yeah. And I’d hope if someone whose job it was to save him they’d do it. No matter what.” QUEEN SHIT 😤😤😤

Marvin you on thin ice but you right; you a king

IM GOOD COACH HEART OF A CHAMPION WHY AM I CRYING

HEART OF CHAMP I AM CRYING AND THEY ALL KEEP SAYING IT BACK TO HIM IM- IM FRAGILE RN. LITERALLY WHY DID EVERYTHING ABOUT HIS ARC MAKE ME SO EMO

NOT HENRIETTA. FUCK

2x03

MADDIE I BELIEVE IN YOU YOU GOT THIS QUEEN

“They could really use a miracle today” “I might just have a few  of those left. I see them.” ALSKFKGKS crying why is the dialogue so good in this show???

FUCK. RUSS ITS YOUR DAY OFF

Russ gonna die im calling it. They saved the athlete and they’ll probably save the little girl?? So hes not gonna make it. At least hen is okay

“Even i couldnt save me. You dont know me, but im good.” “Oh yeah? Well maybe im better”

FUCK. I called it but it still hurts

CLOSE CALL WITH THAT ELEVATOR OMGGG

ALL OF THAT ENDING??? WE CAN BE HEROES SLAPS AND IK WE BEEN KNEW BUT ALDJFKFKSKJ everything about the end to that episode is so 👌👌👌 i wanna cry

EDDIE RUNNING TO HIS BOYYYYYYYY IM

ATHENA AND BOBBY HELL YEAHHHHH the husband is a straight g pullin thru for him like that

2x04

OMG CHRISTOPHER AND EDDIE IM 🥺🥺🥺

Also Christopher is such. Lil cutie

THEIR LITTLE FAMILY!! THE ABUELA?

“These fire guys are totally hot” LAKJDFKAL I MEAN YOURE RIGHT

AKJDKLASDJ YOU LIVE IN YOUR INVISIBLE GIRLFRIENDS HOUSE AND YOURE TELLING ME ABOUT WEAK EXCUSES. THAT SMUG LOOK ON EDDIES FACE IM ASLKFJSAL

Oh sheet Eddies abuela 😞

Every interaction between Eddie and Christopher got me like 🥺🥺🥺

Okay how are you not supposed to ship Buddie they’re talking about being single together and then his aunt telling buck about how ‘he’s a saint’ and all that??? THATS SUCH ROMANTIC INTEREST SHIT. WHEN DO YOU HAVE A FAMILY MEMBER GUSHING TO A MAIN CHARACTER AND THAT CHARACTER ISNT THE LOVE INTEREST????

HE BROUGHT CHRISTOPHER TO WORK AWWWWW!! THEYRE GOING ON A MISSION TOGETHER

Oooh I love this song STUCK IN THE MIDDLE WITH YOU

“Now I feel kind of lame” “BECAUSE YOU ARE” LMAO HEN

Ooooh yeah why do you call him chim???

BOBBY AND CHRISTOPHER. CHIM AND CHRISTOPHER. THIS IS SO CUTE

AWE EDDIE AND CAP

BOY CRUSH ON EDDIE ADLSJFLDKS

Awe good for Maddie omg 🥺🥺🥺

CHIMNEY IS A MODERN MEDICAL MIRACLE???? I mean good for him bro figured lol but for it to be said out loud shittttttt

AKSFJALSDK TATIANA SHES FUCKING MARRIED YOURE KIDDING ME HOW QUICKLY DID YOU GET MARRIED AFTER BREAKING UP WITH CHIM

alkjsdskla im losing it over Tatiana

Awww now this is sad :( chim’s got noboddddddy

Sdkljfas Buck you have GOT to move out of Abby’s place dude

‘I had a life-altering trauma and her life got altered. All I got was the trauma.’ THATS SUCH A GOOD LINE SPEAK YOUR TRUTH CHIM

YOURE MY FRIEND SHES YOUR EX. YOU GET TO FORGIVE AND MOVE ON I GET TO HOLD A GRUDGE UNTIL THE DAY I DIE ALSKFDSDA

Chim 🥺 awe. “Wakes me up in the middle of the night”. Buddy :( CAPS GOT YA

CARLAAAAAAAAAA HELL YEA

“BESIDES THAT PERFECT BONE STRUCTURE” SDKAFSJA

like. Fuck Tatiana. But also good for her. And Chim gets to start to move on!! That was a really sweet scene

Aw Bobby gets Athena ^-^

This was such a good fucking episode yo. Like the way the idea of being stuck had to do with the 911s lives while also all of the calls they went one were being physically stuck and the way the proposal instigated Chim’s breakdown to allow him to finally move on…. just. Excellent television!!!!

So proud of Maddie!!!! So proud of everybody this episode :)

Buck yeah you gotta move out buddy

2x05

ASKFJHASJLAD this has gotta be fake im sdlfkjsaldk

LMAOOOO THIS BITCH she’s gonna end up actually getting hurt

OMFGGGGGGGG this bitch had it coming

DONT WE KNOW YOUUUUUUUUU THE PORCH PIRATE?? ASLDKJFALKSS

What is this girls fucking problem with Maddie lmaaooooooo fuck off

Awe this lady with the muffin or whatever is so sweet. This places Celine dion 😂😂😂 queen

Lmao wait why is she actually horrible 😂😭😭

BUCKETTE LMAOOOOO

Omg Maddie and Athena are so fun

THEYRE PROTESTING HOMOSEXUALITY??? WHAT THE FUCK

HES A FUCKING RACIST TOO???

I CAN HELP YOU WITH THE SWEDISH HALF BUT I DONT KNOW WHICH HALF THAT IS SLKDFJASLK EDDIE

I love Maddie and Athena so much alsdkfj

WHATS HER FACE? EVA? STRAIGHT UP BITCH JFC

Gloria im sorry but you’re getting what you deserve.

LKAJSDALKS. “People who yell and scream and cry and expect you to do something for them” GIRL YOU ARE LITERALLY A 911 RESPONDER THAT IS YOUR GOT DAMN JOB???

“Do they ever think of anything but themselves and what they need?” THEY ARE USUALLY DYING GLORIA

“SNITCHES GET STITCHES” JEEZ WOMAN

I feel so bad for Hen and Karen :( Eva can fuck off dude. Can’t they get sharing rights with the dad? I mean yeah it sucks that Eva is just doing this to fuck em over but like.. the dad still deserves to get to know his son if he wants to. Though Eva would probably try to stay with him just to turn Denny against Hen and Karen… UGHHHHHH

Lil denny :( aw Hen. I love her sm

Hen what u doing girl…. Cant it make the case more difficult if you keep interacting with Eva?

I love Karen and Hen sm 🥺

WHAT YOU DOING HEN. ARE YOU JUST GONNA LEAVE HER???

YOURE FINGERPRINTS ARE ON HER NOW DUDE. GO BACK

Ugh I hate that she lived but it was the right thing to do….

“I save awful people every day its my job” Hell yeah girl

SHES GOING BACK TO JAIL HELL YEAH

Dont love cheering for her going back tho jail can be terrible…. But at least she’ll be out of Karen and hens lives. we’re not meant to think too deeply about this is.

LOVE MADDIE AND ATHENA

GLORIA IS THE FUCKING WORST

oh…. gloria… damn.

Cant you just share custody?? :( I mean it sucks but like… just talk to him.

“Yeah people can be awful… but not everyone is awful… but you’ll never know what kind of person someone is unless you give them the chance to show you” :(

WOW THE DAD IS THE FUCKING BEST?? HELL YEAH

ATHENA AND BOOBBY ARE SO FUCKING CUTE

Wow the last shot of the episode thats like the long shot at the dinner table with the narration was real fucking good :( im emo.

2x06

ADSLFJLK;ALSD. BUCK THOUGHT SHE WAS CALLING EDDIE CUTE BUT SHE MEANT CHIMNEY

listen. I do know what happens between those two and I am very excited.

Oh no maddies so anxiousssss

Buck fangirling over this reporter lady im asldkjflksad

“But the way they cared for me, thats what kept me alive” :( Hen :(

Omg are Athenas kids like the same age as Bobbys :(

SOMEONE SENT THEM EDIBLES????? OMFGGGGGG

OH NO CHIM IS THE ONLY ONE THATS SOBER

THIS WOMAN HAS A HIGH HEEL STICKING OUT OF HER FACE EWWWW ITS SO GROSS

DID THESE BEAUTY QUEENS SHRINK OR ARE WE SUDDENLY GIANTS ALKDSJFLKAKL

TEEN TINY THE WAY HIS VOICE FUCKING CRACKED

SDKFJSKDA THEYRE ALL FUCKING HIGH IM

HIGH BOBBY IS SO FUCKIN FUNNY

Oh no eddies upsetttttt 😂

This is fucking HILARIOUS

Oh no bobbyyyyyyyy :((((((

Awe the news piece was so nice

CHIMNEY AND MADDIEEEEEEE

Oh shes got a fucking POPCORN MAKER IM SO JEALOUS

Wow Taylor was really going to use the footage :/

“Just get a room already” BUCK NOOOO DUDE

The way bobby always fist bumps Athenas son whenever they say hello/goodbye. So fun 🥺good content right there

DONT TELL ME THEYRE GONNA ASK HIM TO BE IN THE PIC????

OMGGGGG BOBBYYYYYYY IM CRYINGGGGGG

AWE AND THE FUCKING SONG; WHEN YOU LOVE SOMEONE YOU MAKE ROOM YOU PROBABLY NEVER LOVED SOMEONE LIKE I DO

[k-writer1998]

Who Said Love Was Easy? (2/12)

      There are many different kinds of people who come and go from your life. Some will stay constant and sturdy like a river, growing alongside you, others will come like a whirlwind who wreaks havoc and leaves just as quickly, then there is everything in between. In this twisted maze of connections, that is where our story begins. A steadfast boy, a girl with a past, a little bit of alcohol, mistakes, and some love. Where can you go wrong with that?

angsty fluff

w.c: 1.7k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      I’ve been spending more and more time at the pub, partly because I was still trying to coax the weary Jeongin into friendship but also Jaehyung has been inviting me to come over more, his nosy-neighbor-senses kicking in. I’ve nearly broken Jeongin though cause he’s warmed up sufficiently since running into him. Gahyeon on the other hand seems to be cautious around me but as the saying goes “keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” It wasn’t like she was any bad, if anything I could see why Jeongin was so infatuated with her. She gives off girl-next-door vibes minus the naivety. Like Jeongin, she brought in a lot of customers with that personality but as the only female server a lot of guys come through in hopes to be served by her. That meant Jeongin’s eyes were constantly on her, ready to step in at any given moment.

“It’ll be faster if you just start barking at people. Then everyone would think you’re crazy and people won’t pay attention to her. Are you trying to burn holes into her skull?”

“Can you not for one day y/n?” he rolled his eyes.

“I’ll stop if you stop first,” I wink before adding, “If anyone so much as looked at her the wrong way Chan, Younghyun, and Jaehyung would be there in seconds you know.”

“There’s just been a lot more creeps lately and it’s been really packed.”

“It can’t be helped. It’s summer vacation for college students so everyone’s going out to de-stress from exams. Why so overprotective anyways?”

“She got bullied in high school. She’s the type to say what she wants so a lot of the girls didn’t like her and a lot of the guys bad mouthed her because she rejected them bluntly.”

“Oh? she looks so pleasant I would’ve taken her as a pushover.”

“Wait why am I even telling you this?” He blinked a few times at the realization.

“Because we’re good friends obviously,” I leaned forward with a smile.

“Whatever, I’m telling the hyungs you dropped the honorifics.”

“No you aren’t.”

      There was a call from the kitchen and he briskly walked away. I shrugged it off since he was still working after all but as I watched his figure disappear into the kitchen, the next thing I knew Jaehyung bursted from the door and stormed over. My mouth fell agape at Jeongin who was watching me from the kitchen door snickering to himself. Snitch.

“l/n y/n!”

“Jaehyung-oppa listen-”

      Safe to say I was thoroughly lectured but it was worth it to know I made him smile… albeit because of my sorrow but minor details. Jaehyung asked to go home together again so I sat quietly in my corner seat as they had a store meeting. Watching them interact, now and throughout my time here, their dynamic was really something. Jaehyung and Younghyun act like they hate each other and are at each other’s throats yet they match each other’s energy to work perfectly together, Chan is like the middle child who acts like the youngest but will step up when needed, Jimin always butts heads with everyone but she still makes sure everyone is cared for, and lastly there are the two newest members Jeongin and Gahyeon… long term friends from school with the same sunshine type energy that every one of the older employees love to dote on like some dysfunctional… family… 

      Allowing my mind to fill itself with thoughts of Jeongin recently, I nearly forgot what time of year it was. Almost. My thoughts betrayed me and not wanting to make Jaehyung’s worrying/nagging worse I stepped out into the summer night. First it was just the loneliness setting in but it's different now with certain annoyances making an appearance last year. It’s like they’re watching and waiting… haunting me to make sure I can’t be happy for the rest of my life. All because of something I had no control over. As I tried to collect myself before I went down the family trauma rabbit hole, I received a text notification and rolled my eyes at the message. A strong urge to throw my phone came over me as my vision blurred red for a second and felt my arm raise for a moment, phone in hand, before a voice brought me back to my senses.

“Regardless of whatever you saw on there, I would advise you not to break your phone unless you can afford a new one.”

      Of all the people, he was not the one I pegged as someone who would’ve followed me out here. My brain was racing to pull itself together, still spiralling from the earlier train of thought, that my response exposed how confused I was.

“Jeongin? What are you doing out here? Aren’t you guys having a meeting?” 

“Yeah but hyung keeps looking to make sure you don’t leave so I decided to take one for the team and tell you to come back in so he can focus.”

“And here I thought you came out for me,” I joke as my arm falls back to my side, my snarky smartass persona finally loading up again.

“Whatever makes you happy,” he rolls his eyes before asking, “Is something going on though? You almost threw your phone and hyung usually isn’t this antsy with you.”

      He noticed? I couldn’t help the small surge of happiness that shot through me but of all the things why did he have to notice this? As tense as I was at his observation, I threw on my usual smile and did what I did best.

“Awww so we really are friends, you care,” I tease and he glared back at me. “Everything’s fine, really. Jaehyung-oppa thinks I get kinda weird around this time of year cause something happened last year. He’ll be back to normal by next week.”

“... okay. Are you gonna stay out here? We’re basically done anyways,” he responded as he glanced at the group inside before eyeing me suspiciously.

“Yeah, let him know please. Also let him know to stop being a worrywart.”

“Tell him that yourself.”

      With a huff he walked back in and I was finally able to relax. Leaning against the window with a sigh, I wished it was winter so I could watch the smoke curl from my lips into the air. It’s oddly calming to watch it disappear and to feel the chill set in my bones. Instead I’m left with the stifling heat of summer and the slightly unsettling thought that Jeongin possibly saw through the act… I’m such a mess. I want him to pay attention to me and now that he has I’m getting antsy. Well this is the only exception I guess, Jaehyung only knows cause he saw it happen. If I had it my way no one would know. Once in the safety of my four walls, I fell into my bed with a groan. Today kinda sucked but I knew it would only get worse until that day comes. Looking at my desk in the corner of the living room with unfinished work strewn across its surface, I let out a sigh. Might as well work to get my mind off it.

      Ding. Ding. Ding. Drowsily raising my head from my desk, I rubbed my eyes in annoyance. The sun was up and Jaehyung knew my door code so who is being so irritating this early? Looking at the intercom monitor, I should’ve known it would be one of those vermin. With a groan I went to “greet” my half-sister, clad in her expensive private school uniform, as I glared and leaned against the door frame.

“To what do I owe the honor of a visit from the princess herself?”

“You weren’t answering mom’s messages and she wanted to make sure you’d be coming home for dinner this weekend.”

“Let me guess. Grandma is invited so I have to show up to make you people look good? Not interested so leave.”

“Don’t act so high and mighty. If you didn’t want to be a part of this family you shouldn’t have-”

“Get it right,” I sneered. “Your mother kicked me out for being a reminder of her husband’s infidelity and was forced to sign away my rights to the family and shares left to me in dad’s will just so I could get the money he left me for college. I’m sorry I actually care to visit dad besides his death anniversary and happen to run into grandma, nothing changes the fact that I’m the illegitimate child right? So run along before you’re late.”

      She stamped her foot and huffed at my indifferent face and challenging tone before turning on her heel and stomping to the elevator. I tiredly rubbed my face before running a frustrated hand through my hair. I did not need this first thing in the morning. Back inside my apartment, I grabbed my phone and called my best friend.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this early morning wakeup call?” He groaned in annoyance. We both weren’t morning people.

“How early can we hang out?”

“Depends. On a scale of “I miss you” to “I want to pull my hair out,” how bad is it?”

“Younghee blew up my doorbell at seven in the morning to tell me to have dinner with them.”

“Oof. I’m shadowing my dad today but tomorrow night for sure, okay? I promise we’ll have fun and you can forget about them. ”

“Our handsome Changbinie is so great~ This is why you’re my best friend.”

“Shut up, I’m still two years older and I’m your only friend y/n.”

“No, I have Jaehyung-oppa and the others from the pub!”

“How can you be friends with someone who doesn’t like your best friend? I didn’t even do anything to Jaehyung-hyung to be hated like this.”

“I don’t like you and you are my best friend.”

“I- Nope, you love me by default because I’m the only one who knows all your secrets,” he countered.

“Who said you’re the only one?”

“Lover boy doesn’t count. He was drunk and probably doesn’t remember plus it’s not like you’ll see him again.”

“Wrong. I can since I have~”

“Young master, President Seo says you must get ready.”

“That’s me,” he groans, “you better catch me up! Maybe your life won’t be a revenge drama afterall," he gasped teasingly. "Is it a romantic comedy?”

“Shut up, does that make you the second lead dearest best friend?” He faked a gag and I chuckled, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Rumor Has It {11}

Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler-Evans

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Angst, Slight embellishment of actual real-world media

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: You and Chris have been married for four years after a whirlwind romance. You are both happy and trying to navigate marriage in the public eye while balancing your successful careers. In the entertainment industry, not everything is as it seems, the flash of a camera lens impairs vision. As scandal and flashing lights put a strain on your once fairytale marriage is it possible your Hollywood marriage can stand the test of the rumor mill?

**Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.

**NOTE: A WORK OF FICTION. NOT CREATED TO GARNER HATE OF ANY SORT.

**Loosley Edited/Proofread**

**Interactive**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊 ❤❤

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 You were reeling. You didn’t know if you were more furious or hurt. After everything, after the last few weeks, therapy, the revelations, the openness between you, your tears, and struggle this was where you were. Lost. Confused.

 After sitting in your office or almost an hour after the end of your FaceTime call with Chris examining the screen record of Chris’ background and the one from Ana’s picture you’d gone through every single scenario. You’d even branched out to scenarios of those scenarios and at the end of it all you’d settled on was something wasn’t right. Everything pointed to your husband being a liar, your husband playing both angles when in fact he as a low-down dirty asshole. You were reluctant to believe it especially with all you’d been through together in therapy. The emotions he’d expressed couldn’t have been faked. Only an actual sociopathic psychopath could have faked it. that possibility had you wondering if your husband was a sociopathic psychopath.

 This new light on the situation didn’t help you keep focus for the day. Concentration was pointless, working was pointless. Every couple of minutes you were thinking about it again. wondering where they were right now if they were together if they were laughing together about how easy it all had been. Needless to say, you were now looking at “platonic” actions in a whole new light. You now looked at the video of them together at TIFF differently, you looked at the interviews they did together and the body language differently. You even looked at the times they’d been together when you called him while he was filming. Your insecurities were at an all-time high.

 Those insecurities are what had you on a private jet bound for San Diego, two days before your scheduled trip to LA that was supposed to have you meet up with Chris. You’d followed your gut, insecurities, and fears here because you had a feeling something was up, and you refused to sit around and ignore it any longer. You’d played the dutiful wife, the wife who played the trust card. You’d played the faithful and devoted wife who did everything in her power to save and strengthen her marriage. It was time to play a different card, the stealth wife. You were going to get to the bottom of this one way or another.

“Hello?”

 “I hope you’re not just going to roll over on this one.” Your mother’s voice resonated and you sighed out in the backseat of the chauffeured truck.

 “Mama, for goodness sake,” you began before she cut you off.

 “What would be for goodness’s sake is you putting both of them in their place, especially her. A man can be as faithful as Jesus but there will always be snakes and Jezebels slithering through the garden of Eden.”

 You rolled your eyes. You didn’t have the time or patience to listen to her scripture riddles. “Mama, I don’t have time for this.”

 “Do you have time for a divorce?” You almost fell out. She had the uncanny ability to take it from zero to two hundred in two seconds. This was not different. Still, she had a point.

 “I will take care of it. I’m in San Diego now and I’m going to confront Chris.”

 “Take a beat, I say confront her first.”

 “What?”

 “Yes, both parties are equally complicit but sit with her, get a feel for her. You’ll be able to tell her intentions within the first two minutes. I’m not saying go and beat her ass off the bat. It’s what I would do, but there are ways to be tactful in a situation like this,” she suggested.

 You had thought to go to her and rip out her hair then give her a nice souvenir in the form of a face scar to be used as a reminder to stay away from your husband. You’d also thought to play devil’s advocate and go behind enemy lines and assess the situation from her side. You’d left both options open and decided to go to the horse first. Hearing your mother’s thoughts, you decided to go with her plan. You’d go see the snake, Jezebel, first.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Almost an hour later, you were sitting in a hotel room in front of a set table with an assortment of foods before you.  Your mind was racing but you felt strangely calm as if you were slowly gliding through the air in zero gravity. It would have been peaceful, but your heart felt heavy.

 “Uriah?” Her accent was very clear. You also heard her shock and confusion. When you turned to her she had a smile on her face. She was a pretty woman. There was no lying about it. You could see why men would fall for her and her big hazel eyes, striking bone structure, plump bottom lip, and exotic accent. Thinking about that you saw what would draw him in.

 You smiled widely and stood. “Ana. How are you?” She returned your smile and stepped to you with her arms out. Once before you, she threw her arms around you hugging you. It was unexpected and your first red flag.

 “I’m so good. How are you? Oh my goodness I love this outfit you look amazing.” She was being overly friendly. This was a sign she was overcompensating for something. You played her game and carried in with small talk.

 After a few minutes, the two of you sat down across from each other. “Chris didn’t mention you were here.”

 “I know. He doesn’t know. I wanted it to be a surprise. So please don’t tell him.”

 “Oh, that’s so sweet—so romantic.” Her smile slipped for a moment. You didn’t miss it. She smiled again and straightened her back coming back to being the picture of friendliness.

 “I wanted to have a bit of lunch together just us girls. It’s been such a long time since we chatted. I just wanted to catch up.” You knew it was believable. You were not an amateur actress.

 “That sounds nice.”

 “I remember a few things Chris mentioned that you liked. Cucumber sandwiches, dragon rolls, and that salsa from your country that you said you couldn’t live without. I hope it’s the right brand.”

 Ana’s eyes roamed over the food on the table with a huge smile on her face. “Wow, he told you about all this?”

 You nodded and sipped your tea, “He did. He talks about you a lot. I can see he likes you.” Ana looked at you and studied you as if she were searching for something. You suspected what she was searching for. You kept your cool.

 “Yeah, we’re good friends. He’s a great man. You married a keeper.” You slowly nodded and took up one of the California Rolls before you. It was one of the two sushi products you would touch. From your example, Ana did the same and made a plate with a little of everything.

 The two of you ate in silence for a few minutes. After some quiet, you chatted about the business, upcoming projects, silly stories floating around Hollywood, fashion, makeup, and travel. It all seemed normal. If you didn’t have the fact in the back of your mind that she was fucking your husband then it was possible to become friends. In another life, the two of you may have become friends. You may have been good friends.

 As you spoke about trivial things, you formulated the right path to go. You couldn’t be too direct, and you couldn’t be too passive. You had to find a way to ride the line between the two.

 “I hope everything is okay with your family. I heard the break Chris took was because of a family emergency,” Ana led a little over an hour into brunch.

 “Yes, it was. We went through some things that had the power to break us. It was important we took the time. I wasn’t sure we still felt the same way about each other anymore.” It was true. Sometimes you had to reveal something personal to open the gates. Ana’s hand reached out for yours and rested on top in a reassuring way.

 “I’m sorry. I had no idea. Do you want to talk about it?”

 “No, no need. I want to distract myself. How are things with you? Anyone in your life that makes this crazy life of fame better?”

 She remained quiet for a little while then toyed with the straw in her Fiji water bottle. Her eyes didn’t go back to yours though. “Things are okay. They could definitely be better. I never realized how much fame could be so lonely. You have millions of people watching you all the time. Tens of them around you but still you can feel--.”

 “Alone?”

 Ana looked to you and nodded with a melancholic smile. “Yeah. I don’t expect you to understand. You have Chris.”

 “He’s been pulling away for some time. It may just be our workload and our maybe we’re not the same people anymore. We might have outgrown each other. I understand.” It was a stretch but in the light of new details maybe it wasn’t. Ana watched you and you tapped into your actress side and played up everything you felt a little over two months ago.

 “Oh Uriah, I’m sorry. Do you think--.” Ana paused looked down timidly then bit her bottom lip before she spoke again. “Do you think he’s having an affair?”

 Bingo, you thought. Nothing you’d said since this brunch began had any path to eluding about an affair. The fact that she brought it up was suspicious. “Do you think he is? You’re with him a lot more than I am these days.”

Ana looked at you. you felt the air in the room change, her eyes got slightly darker. “How would I know that?”

 You shrugged and took up a beignet. You loved that the powdered sugar just melted in your mouth.

 “Wait, are you insinuating I’m having an affair with Chris?”

 “I never said that Ana. Why would I even say that?”

 Ana straightened her sitting position and held her head higher. You knew what was coming and you loathed it. Either you’d slipped somewhere, or she was seriously on edge about the topic.

 “Oh, I see. You asked me here under false pretenses to play nice and sugar me up hoping to get me to spill something. You told me some sad story about your marriage hoping it would give you the optic of the sad victim so I could feel sorry for you. Wow. These questions weren’t you being a friend or a decent person. You were trying to find out of I’m having an affair with Chris. I can’t believe this!” She sprang to her feet and walked away from the table.

 “You’re overreacting, Ana. I never accused you of anything. All I wanted to do was catch up with you.”

 “Bullshit!” She rolled her eyes, turned her back to you then looked at you again.

 “By you coming to me like this it shows how scared you are. Do you feel threatened by me, Uriah? Worried that Chris likes me more than you? Scared that our connection is better than yours?” She was trying to get to you, you could tell. You refused to play this game.

 “Look, Ana, I’m not here to play games with you.”

 “No, you’re here to see how much of a threat I am for your marriage. What you should be thinking about is do you actually have a marriage still?” She didn’t give you a chance to reply before she walked out the door slamming it behind her.

 “This bitch!” She just moved her next chess piece—the knight.

 ~~~~~~~~

When you got to Chris’ room that evening you were even angrier than you were at brunch with Ana. You should have thrown her out the fucking window instead of playing nice with her. Yes, a tactical approach was the best but a show of dominance and violence was always a good move. You hadn’t made one misstep. You didn’t take the con too far, you weren’t too passive or direct. She had always been on edge. She probably was suspicious from the moment she walked in. You knew better than anyone a guilty conscience would always see a threat even where there was none. You were a threat though. You knew now she wasn’t as innocent as she pretended to be. That made you wonder just what the fuck was going on.

 According to Chris’ assistant, he was busy doing some last-minute interviews and events for Knives Out. You took advantage of the quiet and time alone by thoroughly scanning his room, especially where the backgrounds of his facetime call and her image looked identical. There was no mistaking it in person. They were the same. After you roamed around the room wondering just what the walls would say if they could talk. Would they tell you all their sorted secrets about your husband and a particularly hazel-eyed co-star? Would they speak of his fidelity and boringness or would they speak about his betrayal?

 When you’d thought yourself weary, you moved on to ways to relax which included taking a long bath and feasting on room service. It was a good distraction but that was all it was—a distraction. One that you knew would end as soon as Chris got back. You would have to address the literal elephant in the room the picture.

 You were so distracted by the view from the living room window and your tumultuous thoughts and feelings that you almost didn’t hear when the door opened, and Chris walked in.

 “Uriah.” You looked to see him standing there dressed in perfect business casual wear with his hair perfectly tousled. You would never think he was unattractive. For a few moments, his eyes left your face and roamed over your robe-clad body and down your exposed leg. As he scanned you, he walked more into the room.

 “Hi.”

“You’re not supposed to be here in San Diego. I thought we were meeting in LA.

 “I know, I just—wanted to be here.”

 Chris sighed and sat in a seat across from you. you found it a little strange that he hadn’t seen you in a week and he hadn’t come over to greet you or initiate contact. As you were going to bring it up, Chris began speaking again.

 “Checking up on me?” His words rubbed you the wrong way. Turning around to face him you crossed your legs not caring that they were fully exposed.

 “Should I be checking on you? I wasn’t aware you needed checking up on.”

 He kept eye contact with you. You could see the tight clench in his jaw and the straight line of his lips. He was annoyed.

 “Did you lure Ana to lunch and accuse her of having an affair with me?”

 Closing your eyes, you sighed and cracked your neck. You’d just jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. The bitch had tattled and moved her second chess piece at the same time.

 “Don’t lie to me Uriah,” Chris warned through tightly clenched jaws.

 “I did not accuse her of anything.”

 “So, you did lure her to lunch and treated her like a homewrecker and threatened my career and name in the industry?”

 “Are you kidding me, Chris?”

 “Are you kidding me, Uriah?!” He sprang to his feet like a firework shell shooting into the air. You could feel the anger coming off of him.

 “I cannot believe you would do this! Why would you do this?”

 “Me? Why would I do this? Why would you do this?”

 “What are you talking about? What have I done Uriah?” You got off the couch and made your way to your purse for your phone. If he wanted to play the fool you would enlighten him. once you found the picture you shoved it in his face.

 “What the fuck is that?” You watched him as he scanned the post then rolled his eyes.

 “It’s a post.”

 “No shit it’s a post. Did you send her that sweater?”

 “So what? I wasn’t going to wear it, she liked it so I gave it away.”

 “And this?” You pointed to the background of the picture and then went to the still of his facetime call.

 “What about this? Why does your background which is here, identically match hers?”

 Chris looked at you like you were bat shit crazy as if he had no idea who you were.

 “Don’t look at me like I’m crazy. What the fuck is this?”

 He didn’t speak, he just stared at you.

 “I’ve suppressed the urge to ask the question because of everything we’ve been through these last months but come on Chris. I can only be so complacent.”

 “Ask the question, Uriah. I dare you.” It was another warning. You flared your nose and hesitated. You knew if you asked it you’d be right back where you were before therapy. The hurt on his face was evident. He looked as if he were holding back tears.

 “Ask it!”

 “Why do your backgrounds match?”

 “They are hotel rooms, I’m sure they are all identical.”

 “Bullshit!” You walked away from him and to the window.

“Did you come here to confront her--to confront me?” You clenched your jaw and fought back your tears.

 “I wanted to see where your head was and the opportunity arose to see where hers was too,” you explained.

 “Satisfied? Was her denial enough?”

 “She didn’t deny anything. She threw her cockiness around instead. Did she tell you that when she came running to you to get sympathy and create an even bigger wedge between us?”

 “This isn’t about her Uriah. This is about you. I thought you trusted me. I thought we’d moved past this and had turned a page and were moving forward. I thought we were stronger.”

 “I thought so too. I really tried not to come here with this. I debated it but Chris how can I look past this? If you were me, what would you have done?”

 “I wouldn’t come here accusing you or your costar or fucking!”

 “For the first half of our marriage you accused me of fucking Christiano! I just need you to explain this to me.”

 “I have nothing to explain. This wasn’t my room. She wasn’t here.”

 “So, she wasn’t in here dressed like that with you? You weren’t fucking her before this was taken?”

 He didn’t speak right away. He looked disappointed. He sighed and walked away facing his back to you.

 “I don’t think we’ll ever get past this.  The last two months were a waste of time. I thought we could move forward and be stronger because of the pain and the struggle but I don’t think we can.” He turned back to you in time for you to see a tear roll down his cheek.

 “I never lied to you. I’m not playing you either. That picture was not taken here. She’s never been in here.” He dropped his head and wiped his tears away. “I don’t think I should be here either.”

 He didn’t give you enough time to speak, he just walked out the door leaving you alone. You didn’t know what to think or believe at this point. You knew you weren’t crazy. You also knew that this bitch had shown her full hand. 

~~~~~~~~~

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