#and to everyone else still waiting on their prompts I’m finishing them all up they’re still otw <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[arthur-lesters-nipples]

The boys working at Miccy Ds as you requested my liege @sadly-an-eldritch-god

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Four sighed, taking a sip of his beer as he looked at the embers glowing and crackling in Time’s fire pit. “I hate seeing people in pain and not being able to do anything about it.”

Sky glanced at his friend, wondering where that statement came from. Nobody said anything for a moment, and then Legend piped up.

“Yet you chose to work in a surgical-trauma ICU where everyone is in pain all the time,” he quipped with a little playful smirk to take the edge of the sarcasm.

Warriors snickered, leaning back in his chair, beer bottle held lazily between his fingers. Sky almost laughed at the sight of it, recalling that he and Hyrule had been refilling the bottle with water after their friend’s first drink. The army nurse hadn’t commented on the matter.

“Oh shut up,” Four laughed as well. “I know I set myself up for this. But I… I wanted to help. And I wanted to do nursing that made me feel like I was thinking through puzzles and able to focus on as few patients as possible so I could really get into taking care of things. And I like the thrill of it. But…”

He trailed off a moment, looking around at the group relaxing by the fire pit. Twilight paused briefly in the act of throwing another log on the fire, glancing at Four, before finishing the action, sending sparks showering into the air briefly. Time and Malon watched Four quietly, bundled together under a plaid blanket, Malon’s head on Time’s shoulder. Warriors perked up from his slumped position, head tilting towards the ICU nurse while Legend’s playful smile faded. Wild and Wind paused from eating their s’mores to give Four their attention while Hyrule sat up from where he’d been laying in a burrito of blankets on the grass.

Sky watched Four try to ask what he wanted, and as much as he wanted to prompt his friend he knew to wait.

“Does it ever get better?” Four finally asked. “The compassion fatigue. I’ve only been in nursing a short while and I can already feel it. Am… am I done?”

Sky bit his tongue, remembering when he’d asked Legend a similar question. But Sky had been through a war and had been flying sick, injured, and dying patients for years now. Four was still a fairly new nurse, wasn’t he?

He supposed it didn’t matter. Everyone’s exposure and experience was different. Four very clearly was uneasy about this.

Warriors spoke up first, sitting up. “It comes and goes, buddy.”

“Sometimes you just have to stop and remember they’re people,” Legend added. “We… you know, when everyone’s worst day is your workday you have to shut it off. It’s not…”

“We have to protect ourselves,” Sky picked up for his dear friend. “We suffer when they suffer. But if you let it get to you then you can’t focus on helping them. You’re not a bad person for doing that. For…”

Well. Were they bad people for feeling nothing when their patients were in pain?

Honestly, Sky knew there wasn’t a single person in this group who felt absolutely nothing. They just redirected what they felt into something else. Dark jokes to make a bad situation funny, frustration to turn strong emotions into rambling with coworkers… they all felt it somehow.

But it did make it hard to remember who they were taking care of sometimes.

Sky was grateful he just flew his helicopter. He wasn’t sure he could tolerate much more exposure than that, honestly.

“I don’t know if it ever gets better,” Warriors finally said. “It’s kind of just something you learn to live with.”

“I’ve seen nurses who have all the compassion in the world,” Twilight noted. “But I also have no idea how they do it, honestly.”

“Oh, you mean like you, Mr Biggest Bleeding Heart in the Room?” Legend remarked. “I bet you’re everyone’s favorite CNA over there. I don’t know how the hell you deal with sick kids day in and out.”

“It’s a lot easier when you’re the tech walking in and out of the room instead of the nurse responsible for that kid’s life,” Twilight argued mildly. “I mean, I do get attached and I want to take care of all of them, but I’m also so spread out it makes encounters shorter. So like… I don’t know, not as much burnout I guess. Except for the chronic kids.”

“Well, techs make a hell of a difference,” Four noted. “I’d be so screwed without you guys.”

“Back to the point,” Twilight frowned, waving a dismissive hand. “I’m sure even the kindest nurses have moments when they just can’t let themselves get hurt anymore. You’re not a jerk for being worn out from constantly watching people suffer.”

“What’s important, love, is getting out and having moments like this,” Malon piped up. “You boys all tend to self isolate when you’re not working, and all that does is make work your entire life. Take time for yourself but go out in the world too. We’re all here for each other. That’s why we had this tonight.”

Four sighed a little, glancing down at the fire. Sky elbowed him teasingly, smiling. ���Hey. You can’t be any worse than Legend.”

The travel nurse perked up, face flushing and eyes wide with irritation as Warriors wheezed. “HEY!”

Everyone started to laugh while Legend rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. But Sky knew it was just theatrics; after all, he and Legend had talked about this very thing a few weeks ago.

Healthcare broke people. They all knew that. But a little crack here and there could be supported, one person holding the other up. Sky wasn’t sure how long any of them could last in any one area, but he knew they’d try to make it work.

[look-at-the-soul]

Love takes two -Part 1

Emmett x reader (AQP2) Cillian Murphy

Request (s) by anon prompt request

Finally I was able to finish this request (it’s a combination of two different requests I got from lovely anons ♥️ I’m sorry it took me so long!)

And also my little celebration for @cillmequick birthday (I remember it was in July) and for your 6 month tumblr anniversary -that’s probably a year now..) dear Alex thank you for being a lovely human being and all the Cillian smutty stories you share, I’m a bit behind in my reading but slowly catching up 🥰✨ xxx

Summary: Emmett gets protective around you, even in the smallest things. But after a night around a bonfire with friends he’s forced to be honest about his feelings. Just like you.

A knock on the door startled him at first, but then he realized there was only one person in the entire island who would stop by to see him.

“I’m not here.” He answered and chuckled at his own joke, then he saw your head poking with the signature smile and wild hair by the door.

“Okay, I’m looking for Mr. Hologram.” You smiled widely.

“What did you do this time, Y/N?” He finally dragged his gaze from his work to your face and like every single time he did that, you feel like you were kicked by a horse in the stomach.

“Me? Nothing.” You stated innocently, he should be used by now to help you with almost everything; opening a bottle of something, surviving… “We’re having a little bonfire, I was wondering if you want to come?”

“We?”

“Just a couple of friends.”

There was a small disapproval groan, but you knew him so well, so you rushed to try to convince him.

“Please, just for a little while… you don’t have to chat with them.” He was an introvert or not very fond of everyone, Emmett was always by himself… and with you most of the time because you didn’t really give him much choice. “Emmett?”

Batting your lashes and you knew that would do the trick.

“Don’t say that, they’re nice people.”

“Hmm.” He raised his eyebrows. “Just because you still have hope in humans, it doesn’t mean they’re.”

“Emmett! They’re.” You insisted. Partly because you believe, partly because you loved saying the opposite than him. “I made dinner.” You bit your lip.

He was cleaning his hands with a cloth, so he flipped his head in an attempt to move his fringe away, but to you it was the sexiest thing he could do.

“Fine you win, I just need to take a shower first.”

You made a victory little dance and told him you’d be waiting for him.

“Don’t make the same mistake I did, Emmett.” Daniel “the coach” advised stepping into the room. “You don’t want to grow old and lonely like me, trust me.”

Emmett gave him a long look. He knew his story, Coach had loved a woman when he was young but he didn’t have anything to offer to her so he stepped back, later in life he got an opportunity into coaching professional football, when he went back to her because he was financially stable he found out she had married someone else. After waiting for him for years to ask her out she decided to move on because she never knew he was in love with her.

“I don’t understand your point.” Emmett tried to play the fool.

“You like her.” Coach stated firmly.

Emmett pretended to clean the tools he had been using. “Everybody likes her.”

“She’s a great girl, what are you waiting for?”

“I think someone younger would be better fit for her.”

“Is that your best excuse?” Coach shook his head in disapproval. “Get rid of the beard, that’s the best way to look younger.”

Emmett saw him disappear outside with the handsaw, leaving him alone with only the feelings he had been secretly developing for you along with that noisy whisper in the back of his mind tormenting him over and over, repeating there was no way you could like him back.

Right?

“Given the fact that we don’t have a lot of things, this looks lovely.” Alex admitted taking a step back to admire the work the two of you made.

“Thank you for helping me.”

“Wait a second, there’s one extra place.” She eyed you suspiciously.

“That’s for Emmett.”

“Why it doesn’t surprise me?” She sighed loudly.

Trying to distract yourself with the candles. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing.”

Alex crossed her arms, but decided to not press the topic anymore. If you didn’t feel like talking yet, she’d give you space.

For now.

You felt cornered, it was hard to keep something from her but luckily Emmett appeared in your eyesight and you waved at him, giving Alex a sign to keep it to herself. Shaking her head, she walked away to bring out the plates.

“You came!” The smile on your face couldn’t get any bigger.

“Of course, you invited me.” He chuckled.

“Never seen this before.” You pointed it at his shirt, a deep emerald that lighted his eyes even more beautifully than they already were.

He blushed slightly and a nervous laugh escaped his lips, he chose it because it was the only decent and dressy shirt he had for an occasion like that, the rest were dirty or stained.

“Hey! Can I’ve some help?” Alex asked from the house. “Don’t stay there!” She called over the two of you again.

“Better go, before the creatures hear her.” Emmett swore he said it to himself but you were close enough to listen. It was hard to hold your laugh, after the invasion you barely laughed afraid you wouldn’t be able to control the volume and attract them, but not this time.

“What’s so funny?” Alex demanded to know, looking between the two of you.

“Emmett just told me a joke.” You lied wiping the tears away.

As Emmett emerged with his arms full of boxes with drinks, you decided to busy yourself by offering him some help. Oblivious that Alex was keeping an eye on the two of you.

People started to show up, someone brought his guitar, while another person was offering everybody homemade sweets. Dinner was amazing and having the chance to celebrate with the most important people was something you felt extremely grateful for, even if your birthday had already passed. Between laughs and an endless chat, you were now enjoying a piece of a homemade cake, it was like tasting a piece of heaven in your mouth.

The group had been sharing memories before the invasion, it was great to hear he most memorable birthday celebration from each other.

“Bet you’re eager to share yours.” You teased Emmett who was sitting on your left.

“Absolutely.” He replied raising his eyebrows. “Thrilled actually.”

That was one of the things you liked about him the most, he was always able to catch your hint of sarcasm and replied back the same, it was like your little private joke.

“Oh damn it!” Alex mumbled. “Y/N, can you pass me the fork? It’s next to your feet.” She pointed out from her seat on the picnic bench in front of you.

As you were still laughing from what Emmett said, you started to bend down to pick it up, her eyes on you as you moved. But to her surprise, Emmett’s hand was moving at speed to cover the corner of the table, so you wouldn’t hurt yourself.

“Thank you.” You smiled shyly at him.

For him it was the most natural thing to do, but to her, it was all she needed to confirm the thoughts that had been running in her mind.

She thanked you after taking her fork. “Should we go and play some music?”

As the group moved towards the bonfire, you looked at Emmett.

“You should join them.” He encouraged, stealing glances at the group.

“Can’t leave you alone to clean up, can I?”

“Y/N it’s fine, really.”

Biting your lip you stared at him. Feeling like sometimes he was pushing you away.

“The night is young, go.” He repeated just as Alex was coming to get you.

“Come on let’s dance!”

You nodded and followed her, feeling a bit off about Emmett. Perhaps you were too pushy with him, trying to be friendly or make him feel part of the group. But as the cheering started for your arrival, it lifted you up and you decided to have a good time, kicking the sand, clapping and doing your best effort to sing along.

Emmett’s eyes landed on you from afar, you were dancing and singing with the small group.

Your cheerful spirit attracted lots of attention, it was inevitable, your carefree attitude, signature happy character and that smile that seemed to be tattooed on your face made you be surrounded by people all the time.

It was one of the things he admired about you the most, despite everything, the things you’ve been through after the invasion, losing your loved ones, that didn’t turn you into a resentful person. All the opposite, it made your heart kinder, softer.

Constantly he asked himself why you cared so much about people who probably wasn’t even worth it. But deep down he knew… because you still believed in good people, you still trusted them.

Wild hair bouncing in different direction made him go back to reality, your cheerful sweet voice made him snap out as you shouted his name while waving at him.

“What are you doing all by yourself?” You asked sitting next to him over the old tree trunk. “You should come.”

“Trying to avoid your disastrous performance.” Emmett teased, ending his words with a chuckle.

“Ugh that rum gets into my brain faster,” you groaned.

“If that’s your excuse…”

“So what’s yours? To be on your own when it’s a beautiful night like this one.”

Sometimes he still wonder how a chatterer like you could’ve made your way through his skin to take a place within his broken heart and leave a permanent mark. Over the weeks since the two of you met, it was as if you opened up his dark and lonely heart, took a chair and declared you would stay there until you made him smile and help him enjoy life again.

“How is it possible that you’re always happy and enthusiastic in a shitty world like this?” Emmett asked after a few moments.

And regretted it immediately, realizing how bitter he sounded.

“Sorry about that, it didn’t come out right.” Worry danced through his eyes, you noticed right before he looked down.

“So what am I supposed to do? Cross my arms and put on an angry face to push everyone away?”

“I don’t have an angry face.” He tried to defend himself.

“Absolutely not, you’re the most friendly human being around,” you nodded making a funny face. “It seems that you already forgot how we met.”

Flashback

Focusing on his surroundings, he was now used to the loud thoughts in the back of his mind, talking to himself most of the time for survival purposes.

He was walking midway across the bridge when he heard a small noise behind his back. He was quick to take his weapon from his shoulder and turn around pointing it in every direction in an attempt to protect himself.

But his heartbeat stopped as he saw the female figure before him.

“You shouldn’t sneak around like that, you know?” He whispered.

“Are you always that friendly?” You asked with a hint of sarcasm.

“I’m not here to make friends.”

“Fabulous, me neither… let’s be not-friends.” You extended your hand at him. “Y/N.”

Emmett placed his weapon back on his shoulder, and fixed his eyes on you with a defeated sigh.

“Emmett. What are you doing here?”

“Oh you know, just needed some air and a suntan.” You shuddered. “I’m looking for food.”

He wanted to laugh, for the first time in months, he felt something. And in that very moment he realized that you were one of the very few people around worth saving.

“Do you trust a stranger like that all the time? This is a dangerous place right now.”

“Again with the pessimism, Em?” You shuddered. “You don’t look like the kind of people who goes around with bad intentions. I saw you back there, when you had the chance to steal, you didn’t.”

His chest raised from the long breath he took. One more look at you and another one towards the long road ahead.

“Come on, I know a place safe.” He covered his nose and mouth with the old piece of shirt.

End of flashback

“I knew you were a good person right away.” You mumbled letting your eyes swim in the depth of his eyes. “And look at you, that day you found the best damn thing that’s happened to you after the invasion.”

That made him chuckle, just like every single thing you did and said.

“There’s no point to fight that.”

Your heart was doing a strange thing; drumming like it was in a rush to come out of your chest and skipping beats from time to time, specially when his clear eyes were looking intensely at you.

“I’ve something for you.” He announced looking at the ground one of his hands started fishing inside the shirt pocket. “Happy birthday, Y/N I made you this.”

As you were about to ask how could he remember it was your birthday, he showed you a small square of fabric covering a pendant in the form of a flower made of wood. “Emmett it’s beautiful!”

It was something delicate and simple, but to you it meant everything that he made it from scratch.

Without even thinking about it, you threw yourself into his arms. This was the first and only gift you’ve received, as his hands came to rest to your back and his masculine scent intoxicated your senses, you suddenly realized of your impulsive actions and how much he protected his personal space. So you broke the embrace.

“Sorry, I got over excited… thank you so much!”

His eyes were fixed on you as you put it on.

“It’s just something small.” He tried to explain.

“You’re really talented.”

Clicking his tongue he felt the urge to hide his hands.

“Emmett you need to learn to accept compliments, look at the table,” you pointed at the object next to you, “this is a gift, you create beautiful pieces.”

“Well thank you.”

You loved the shy look he gave you.

Nervously you placed your hair behind your ears. “No, thank you.”

“Y/N…”

Staring at his profile, you noticed the freckles kissing his face, neck and the part of his chest that was visible, the moonlight spread shadows beautifully in certain parts of his features, and you couldn’t help but wonder how would his beard feel against your skin.

There was no use in trying to deny it any longer, you had to be honest with yourself… you were in love with this man, and maybe as an introvert he needed a little push. Perhaps if you open up to him, he would do the same.

“Yes?”

Taking a deep breath, you decided you’d take the lead, after the invasion changed everything you decided you wouldn’t miss the chance. What if taking the risk was worth it?

He gave you one more look and you waited patiently.

As Emmett felt you turning your body towards him and the peonies scent of your skin hit him, he looked at your beautiful and delicate features in the dim light.

You were young, beautiful and funny, a walking sunshine. How could he even think of standing a chance to be with a goddess like you?

Fixing his eyes on his hands, he stood up.

“Nothing I just hope you have a blast, goodnight.”

And he left without another word or even a look. Confusion took over you, in equal amount as disappointment. You regretted deeply everything in that very moment. How did you come to think he’d look at you differently? To him you were nothing but a friend, someone who was always joking.

“You’re supposed to be having fun.” Your friend stated, taking the seat next to you.

“I am, Alex.”

“Really? Then you need to say it to your face.” And she pulled you up, towards the bonfire.

****

“You are what?” Alex asked with a shocked expression as she was watching you getting ready.

“Going out with Mark.” You repeated putting on the sandals.

“I didn’t know you guys were seeing each other.” She was majorly confused.

Turning your head to her, you nodded. “He asked me after the bonfire.”

“And… you like him?”

Sighing you paced the room. “Alex what’s with all the questionnaire? I thought you wanted me to have someone.”

Leaning back, she started playing with her sandal, balancing it in her toe. “I thought you liked Emmett.”

From side to side, you saw her sandal move like a pendulum. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh, you wanna play like that? Fine… stealing glances at him all the time, joining him for his daily walks when he clearly wants to be alone, going to his place with the most ridiculous excuses just to be close, him acting all protective around you…”

“We’re… friends.” You stammered looking away, feeling caught by your best friend. “Can you stop that please?” You were altered.

“Jesus.” She noticed you were in a mood. “He’s grumpy and bearish. You’ve nothing in common how can you say he’s your friend?” She needed to push your buttons.

“That’s a wrong impression most of the people here have.” You defended him. “He’s kind and funny.”

“And?”

You wanted to say that he was smart and well educated and a great cook, but that would only make her suspicious grow.

“I’ve known you since we were in the wombs of our mothers, Y/N. You can’t lie to me.”

There was a long silence, and it was endless.

“I’m in love with him, okay? I don’t know how, but it happened. I love spending time with him, he makes me feel safe, like I can be myself. He makes me love the person I am when we’re together… but it doesn’t matter because he doesn’t like me back, to him I’m just his friend.”

Pouring your soul and feelings to your best friend didn’t change anything, but it made you feel lighter, just as Alex was about to say that she knew there was something between the two of you by Emmett’s protectiveness, Mark arrived.

“I better go.”

“If you’ve feelings for Emmett, this date is useless you know that, right?” She had never seeing you like this before.

“Everything is useless to be honest, but it’s either this date or yelling so a creature would come at me.”

“As dramatic as always.”She rolled her eyes right before watching you and Mark disappear.

It had only been ten minutes when there was a knock, Alex thought you forgot something so she opened the door to scold you, but instead she found the last person she had in mind.

“Emmett?”

“Hey, it’s Y/N here?”

For an instant, Alex felt sorry for him. “She’s out tonight… Mark asked her on a date.”

His jaw clenched, hands curled in tight fits just as an avalanche of emotions flashed in his blue eyes.

***

Part 2

More Emmett content here! 🥰✨

Do you like this character? I particularly love that there are endless possibilities around Emmett and he’s a fascinating character 🥰♥️ your thoughts and comments it’s what feeds my soul -and trust me, you don’t want to see me hungry 😂-

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[kooktrash]

this drabble idea was inspired by this prompt i saw before: “you wanna act single? fine. then be single.”

omg pretty pls do slow burn yandere!taehyung x reader where he’s not rlly a great bf to her so she breaks up with him and tries to get over it by going out with a lot of guys and it’s only then that tae’s possessive behavior grows worse and worse 🫣 pls make it angsty/smutty can be fluffy too hehe whatever works for you

alright this might be so much slow burn but let me explain 😭😭 I don’t like my requests so long bc they’re really just drabbles and something quick. I hope you like it; really enjoyed this request. Love a good yandere bc I’m crazy and need my man obsessed with a capital OBSESSED [but also not in a You kind of way, more possessive lmao] little over 2k words. light smut at the end. angst and smutty?

“If you want to act single? Fine, be single.”

He swears he short circuit-ed. His eye practically at what you just told him in the middle of what was supposed to be a nice dinner and yet there was an argument involved. He tried to smile or laugh it off despite his breathing suddenly becoming uneven, “What do you mean? I—I don’t act single. I love you, you know that.”

“Clearly I don’t,” your tone was sharp and it had his jaw clenching. What do you mean you don’t know how much he loves you? “You work day and night and when you have free time all you want to do is drink at bars with your friends. You entertain another girl’s flirting right in my face so try. Lie to me again that you love me when I’m not a single one of your priorities. Everyone else seems to be but me.”

“That’s not true. I don’t let other girls flirt with me. I always tell them I have a girlfriend when I go ou—“

“Tae it’s not just that. There’s many reasons I want to break up wi—“ “No, I’m sorry but you’re not dumping me,” he said trying to seem calm as he went to finish his dinner but suddenly he lost his appetite, “We’ll work this out.”

“There’s nothing to work out,” you were suddenly standing and he couldn’t hide his worry anymore, “I shouldn’t have to tell you what’s wrong if you already know it. I’m sorry but this just isn’t working anymore. I’ll head out first.”

“Y/n wait,” he rushed to stand just as the waiter came with the bill and he swears he could kill the guy for stalling him. By the time he was finished paying and gathering his things, you were already in a cab.

“It’s just one date, please? He’s bringing a friend and I’ve got no one,” your friend begged you one day after work. It’s only been a few days since you dumped Taehyung and she’s already rushing you to meet new people. He’s been texting you nonstop when before he’d go hours without responding. It was overwhelming because you still loved him but it felt like he didn’t care. If he did he wouldn’t have constantly brushed you off like you weren’t dating.

taehyung: I love you

taehyung: pls can we talk about this

taehyung: I’ll do better

“Fine but if I don’t like it I’m not staying,” you told her as the two of you left the building to a cab. She cheered in triumph and kissed your cheek, “You’re the best. It’ll help you get over Taehyung and move on.”

“It’s been day—“ “Who cares. It’s been a while that you’ve been feeling like this so you’re ready to m—“

“Y/n?” You both stopped abruptly, just a few feet behind you was your recent ex. You released a sigh as your friend looked at you and you gave her a weak smile, “You can go ahead, I’ll see you later?” She gave you a nod, glancing back at Taehyung once more and leaving. You turned to Taehyung, surprised to see his condition changed in just a couple days. His hair was a mess, he had dark circles, and his clothes looked like it’s been worn for days. You walked up to him, “What are you doing here? You never visit me here.”

“I wanted to see you,” he said honestly, head hanging low, “And I just wanted to… baby can we please just talk? Please, I miss you so much.”

“How? How can you miss me when you’d literally go days without seeing me. This should be something you’re used to,” you told him though you let his arm come to your side, “And I’m sorry but I really don’t want to talk to you.”

“Baby,” his voice broke, holding you closer now, “Don’t say that, please. Just… just give me another chance. I promise I’ll change an—“ “Taehyung I need some space, okay? I shouldn’t have had to break up with you for you to realize what a shitty boyfriend you’ve been.”

His eyes began to water and you’ll admit you’ve never seen him get emotional like this but you had to stand your ground. You’re not just going to stay with a guy who can’t value you. Still, you obviously still care about him, that’s not just going to go away so you couldn’t help yourself. You cupped his face and pressed a kiss on the tip of his nose, his hands on your waist as you said, “I’ve gotta go.” He wanted to keep you in his arms but then a cab came and you were slipping away.

Today was the stupid double date that you didn’t want to go on but you already agreed. You were in a café sitting on some couches having coffee across from two guys. They were both attractive but this felt wrong. But if you wanted to get over Taehyung and how he was when you dated, maybe you needed a rebound.

“So, what do you do for work?” One of them asked you in an attempt to make small talk. You set your mug down, “I’m a columnist.”

“Ah, so you both do journalism?” He asked and you nodded. He seemed nice, obviously attractive and sort of gentle. Even if you might not have been too interested in the date, now that you’re here you should try and make the most of it. Your fingers ran through your hair nervously, “What do you do?”

“I’m a mechanic, I work under cars mostly oil changes or engine changes,” he said with a shrug before smirking, “So if you need some work under the hood, I’m your guy.”

“I’ll make sure to call,” you said with a flirty smile, completely unaware of the man on the phone just tables away.

“Y/n’s here with her friend. It looks like they’re on a date,” Yoongi told his heart broken friend. “What?” Taehyung’s jaw clenched as he sat at a red light, “Where? How many people?”

“Two guys, one’s looking real interested in Y/n right now. Is she moving on that fast?” Yoongi asked, “And it’s at a cafe. I’ll send you the place, are you planning on coming because I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“No, I just want to know the place,” Taehyung lied and yet Yoongi believed him and sent the address. It didn’t even take him five minutes to find the place and park across the street. He got off quickly and tried to bury his face in his phone as he found a table far enough from you that you wouldn’t feel him behind you. He hid behind a menu.

“Wow, Jimin seems to be interested in Y/n and Y/n alone,” your friend said loud enough for Taehyung to hear, “Why don’t you just ask to talk somewhere private.”

“Soomin,” you said in a warning tone but you tried to brush it off with a nervous laugh, “Ignore her. She doesn’t have a filter.”

“It’s fine,” Jimin laughed with you, “Maybe we should though, give them privacy too.”

Taehyung stood abruptly, unable to stop his feet from taking him toward you in a swift move. The guys across from you slowly came to a stop mid-conversation at the sight of him and the intimidating glare in his eyes. It made you turn and your heart dropped, “Taehyung. W-what are you doing here?”

“Came for a drink when I catch you sitting here on what looks like a date,” his eyes were solely trained on Jimin whose mug was pressed against his face in an attempt to hide. He doesn’t know who this guy is and frankly he doesn’t want to know, especially when he just met you and Taehyung’s voice was so deep that with his stare he knew he didn’t want to get involved. Your friend sighed, “Taehyung this was my id—“

“Oh, I don’t doubt,” his tone was bitter turning his glare to you, “You’ve been dying for us to break up and now you’re rushing Y/n to move on? Real classy of you, did you tell these guys that you think you might be pregnant?”

“Taehyung!” Your voice rose as she glared at you. “You told him?”

“He was in the room when you called, I didn’t know you were going to say that,” you said honestly as the guys grew more uncomfortable by the second. You released an annoyed huff moving to stand up, “I’m sorry everyone. I think it’s better if I just go.”

“Yeah, I think so too,” the guy you hadn’t been talking to said, “I think Jimin and I should go too, not really interested in taking care of anyone’s kid.”

You pushed Taehyung out the front door, “Why would you do that? Soomin has nothing to do with what’s goin o—“

“She does if she’s trying to set you up on dates not even a week after we broke up!” His tone was loud as you made it to the sidewalk, “And I can’t believe you would actually entertain another guy right now. I thought you needed space, not some guy who just wants you for sex.”

“How do you know that?” You bit back, “Because that’s pretty much all you used me for. Sex and what? A dinner once a week? A text only when you felt like it?”

“Don’t act like you were always there for me either,” Taehyung said, “You were always too busy too. Sorry I stopped trying when you did and it’s not fair that I’m the only one being blamed.”

“I’m leaving, what you just did in there…” you stopped, trying to keep your cool, “Now Soomin’s going to be mad at me.”

Once again you left him.

He made it into his dark tinted car, hands tightening around the steering wheel and as he thought about what he just saw, he couldn’t help himself. His fists banged into the steering wheel, horn going off for a moment as he released some anger. He rested his forehead on the steering wheel trying to calm down. His eyes were bloodshot red, why can’t you just give him another chance?

He wasn’t ignoring you. He didn’t just use you for sex but he knew what kind of guy he was. He knew how obsessive and unhinged he could be so obviously he distanced himself. He wanted to be in a relationship where you didn’t feel overwhelmed by him but now you just left him. He was too busy scaring off any guy who’d try and talk to you that he seemed to have neglected the love of his life. But he won’t give up.

You can’t believe he was at your door right now. You had a long day at work and now Taehyung was in front of you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Your head hurt and you just wanted to be alone. So you ignored him as you unlocked the door and you spoke, “I’m tired Taehyung, I can’t do this tonight.”

“Then let me help you relax,” he set down the flowers on the table, immediately falling to his knees, “Please if you won’t take me back yet then let me love you. You love when I get on my knees. After we’ll watch a movie and stay in or we can go out, do whatever you want. I just want to spend time with you.”

“Taehyung I’m not in the mo—“ “Tae,” you released a sigh as he began sliding up your skirt in the process. Your hands were on his shoulders keeping him at a distance even though his hands were running to the back of your thighs closer and closer to your panties. Your mouth parted in surprise as he pretended to nibble on your thighs between words, “I know you want me to. I know how pent up when you get stressed. You know I can make you forget.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes until his hair was getting too close and tickling a certain spot.

“Tae, I know you want to get back together bu—ngh,” your hands tightened around his hair as he pressed you into the wall behind you, nose brushing over your panties, “Bu—Tae!”

“I’m listening,” he muttered, mouthing at your covered clit teasingly over the fabric, “But you’re wearing my favorite panties.”

“We can’t do this, oh fuck, can you just give me a se—“ your lips released a silent moan when he yanked them down roughly. Oh god he knew all your weaknesses to get you to not be mad anymore, you couldn’t help it. You were a sexual being and Taehyung always knew how to pleasure you.

“You’re wet baby, is this for me?” His hands were on your butt, fingers digging in as he grinds his teeth, “Or is this for one of those guys you’re trying to see behind my back.”

“I’m not seeing,mm,” his hot breath was fanning your heat as he spread your legs further apart, tongue giving a quick, shy flick against your hood, “Anyone.”

“But me,” he groaned, arms wrapping around your thighs as he hoisted a leg over your shoulders, “Isn’t that right, baby?”

He was teasing you with very quick licks, and hands that fondled you so deliciously, “Because you know, nobody can make you feel as good as I do. So you can’t just leave me.”

“Then treat me better.”

“I’ll treat you the fucking best,” he gave another lick, even lower, “Even if you don’t like it. I won’t leave you.”

“Tae—“ he cut you off with another, this time tongue flattening between your folds. Fuck he knows sex makes you weak. He peppered kisses against your gardening clit, “I’ll make you feel so good, every night. Every moment of the day that I can.”

“Tell me you’ll take me back,” he looked back up at you, “Please baby, I love you so much and I can’t stand seeing you trying to get over me when I know you still love me.”

“I don’t kn—fuck!” He was going to town now, anything to get you to forget your worries and your hips met his tongue with small thrusts into his mouth, “Fuck, fine. Fine. We’ll try again—“

“God, thank you so much baby, I’ll be better, but don’t ever try to leave me again, you hear me?”

The look in his eyes scared you as his tongue stuck out to lick you again. It was intense and dark but it had you nodding your head, scared to say no. And at the conversation a smile broke out on his face, “Good baby, not let me show you what you’ve missed.”

EL FIN

I’ll probs do like two more requests.

[lotto840]

Well the trailer for Act II just dropped… and my previous trailer predictions post did well so… LET’S GO AGAIN!!! :D (I say this knowing that I got next to nothing right last time and didn’t watch the latest livestream yet)

Looks like we’re getting more flashbacks like from 14. It’s probably going to focus on Mephone deciding to make II, but before he escaped with Mepad, given how the background still looks like the Meeple HQ. It’ll probably also be like how 16 started by a 3GS scene in the past.

Bro is not happy with Cobs. I think this is at the start as well, since Cobs would likely just hang up again after capturing the finalists, likely about this “he made you” finisher, especially if the contestants’ creation was something he did unwittingly.

Looks like Baseball’s speech really did convince Taco to stop hiding. Good thing that the whole ‘Mephone X is treating the contestants like slasher victims’ deal probably means that right now no one cares enough to question it much. Also funny that she’s standing next to Cabby, someone who also had an arc of the game bringing about actions she regrets.

Honestly I have no clue how much the Purgatory Mansion or non-Lightbulb Bright Lights will play, especially since they didn’t see anyone get deleted, and since Brian confirmed that deleted contestants aren’t dead, they can’t get informed by the ghosts either.

Soap and Guava still aren’t present 💀. But it seems like the III contestants, or at least Cabby and Candle, won’t be entirely forgotten about. Cabby is totally here because she won, but I’m guessing Candle is here so the writers can do something with someone who knows how to use the inner flame. It looks like the circle is a way to see X at all sides and it strikes again, and maybe try to have a chance at harming them? Other than that they’re sitting ducks like this. Paper also seems to have fled, probably not wanting to deal with X. Also 4 is walking between Baseball and Cherries, seemingly at the former’s prompting. Are they trying to use him as a line of defense, thinking that another Meeple product is their best bet? Is he going along with it because the conversation with Cobs left him dejected?

Uh-oh I wonder who’s next… (Box ofc) Probably anyone at Purgatory Mansion trying to go back to the hotel or Paper/one of the other missing contestants. Or maybe this is where X lies in wait now that everyone knows of their presence?

Either the circle didn’t work and people like Bomb are starting to see their fates as sealed or it’s before that, with Lightbulb giving commands. She was seen addressing everyone else in the circle scene, so it’s likely that she and Baseball are trying to split up leadership duties over everyone.

Ig I’ll have to split this up into two parts again. Who knows if this will just be a two-parter like other II episodes or if there will be an Act III (and maybe beyond?)

here’s pt 2!!!

[reblog-house]

Ice Creams of Divorce

Characters: Bdubs, Cleo, Scar, Etho

Wc: 920

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt 244, “Critical Ice Cream”

Ao3: Here!

“Mhmm,” Bdubs exaggerated delight with a mouthful of ice cream. “Delicious, right Cleo?”

Cleo didn’t respond. Bdubs turned to his left and they were glaring daggers at Etho from across the table. Etho, on his part, was bent towards the table trying to bring the ice cream to his face, but every time he moved the spoon closer, Cleo’s face hardened.

“Mom,” he whined. “The ice cream’s good, right?”

Cleo glanced at Bdubs and let out a small smile. “Of course, Bdubs.” Then looked back at the odd one out and continued frowning.

“Yes, Bdubs,” Scar said, across the table with his mouth full. “The ice cream is delicious. But it would be even better without Mister Deadbeat over there.”

“Come on, guys! He’s trying to reach out! Right dad?” Etho tried to speak but Bdubs continued. “Look! He’s here!”

“Yes, Bdubs, and that’s exactly the problem.”

“But! You guys were all in for the idea of inviting him! And it was all VERY civil during the meal! No one clawed the other’s eyes out! It makes no sense!”

“Oh, that was before dessert.” Scar said nonchalantly and Cleo nodded firmly, like that made any sense.

“So what!”

“I…” Etho spoke up, and all the eyes turned to him. He gulped, audibly. “I think I should probably… get going now.”

“What! No, dad!”

“Oh?” Cleo raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Is your little friend group calling? Asking when you’ll stop ‘babysitting’?”

Bdubs gasped. “Oh, don’t you speak of TIES like that! They’re great people, I’ll have you know!”

Cleo and Scar looked at him and then at each other. He couldn’t read their minds but he didn’t like whatever was happening, no siree! 

“Right… Scar, could you and Bdubs go for a walk?” they said, eyes never leaving Etho.

“Gladly!” Scar said, pushing his chair back. A crash followed. Scar looked down and pouted. “Awe, my cane, not again.”

Bdubs wanted to say ‘told you so’ but he didn’t think it would be the best idea.

Still, he muttered, “Told you not to hook it on the chair.”

Scar was close enough to hear him, but he clearly ignored it. Or maybe he was just too focused on trying to get his cane from the floor that he didn’t listen. He was like that.

He should help him get it.

At once, it hit Bdubs. “Wait, no!” Eyes on him again. He corrected his tone. “What about we don’t go?” 

Bdubs could probably count the amount of hairs on Cleo that turned gray in the length of the conversation.

“Pray tell, why would you not?”

“Because you would kill him and he couldn’t defend himself! No offense Etho.”

“None taken, sadly.” His voice grew sad. “I’ve already been called washed up and past my prime—”

“That’s a lie!”

“—Cleo would kill me instantly. I’ve accepted it.”

“Look at what you did!” Bdubs said to his mom. “The comment still hurts him!”

“I never said he was washed up! Everyone else said that but me!” They tried to defend themself but the cards weren’t in their favor.

“Clockers! Etho!” Scar said suddenly. He was already standing, cane in hand. When did he pick it up? “We’re getting too off-topic now! Come on, Bdubs.”

“Nuh-uh, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Bdubs…” Scar said with a threatening voice.

“I wanna hear what mom’s gonna say.”

Cleo sighed. “Take a seat Scar. Finish your ice creams.”

Bdubs had completely forgotten about it, and by the looks of it, so had Scar. Both scoops had already half-melted.

“Look, Etho… I hate putting the children in the middle of this—”

Bdubs wanted to retort that he wasn’t a child. So he did. They all ignored him.

“But if you want to be present in their lives, we could strike up an arrangement. Won’t suddenly drop Bdubs on you nor will you visit unannounced. You could call ahead and decide when to see them. That could be a thing. Nothing’s stopping you.

“If, however,” she continued, “you’re gonna be an absent father, could you be at least absent?”

The room grew dead silent.

Then, cackling. 

“Oh my god.” Scar said as he laughed.

A puff of air escaped Bdubs. Then, he felt something start to rise to his throat, stuck there for a second. 

And it escaped.

Bdubs laughed.

His eyes closed and he didn’t hear his parents join in, but their exhales felt less tense now. Almost fond.

After a bit, they stopped laughing. The air was silent, but no longer thick. Bdubs looked at his dad.

Etho breathed, then said, “Yeah I would… I think I would like that. The first thing. If Scar doesn’t mind. I know he hates me.”

“And that won’t change any time soon,” Scar said like a reminder. “But whatever makes Bdubs happy. Just remember, you mess with one of us, you mess with all, Mister Slab. Clockers stay together above it all. Remember that.”

Etho nodded firmly. “I will.”

“Oh, one more thing,” Cleo said. “You can’t take Bdubs to your crew of friends. I don’t trust they’re good role models for him.”

“Mom!”

Etho hummed. “You know, yeah, I see what you mean.”

“WHAT.”

“We’re a bit rowdy,” he added thoughtfully.

Cleo groaned. “Don’t ever say that again or I’ll rescind the invitation.” They rested their arms on the table. “So, are we on the same page?”

Etho looked at Bdubs, then at Scar. Then, back at Cleo. And with determination in his voice, “Yes. We are.”

[lilypadlys]

Mushy May Day Fourteen - “Shut Up I’m Taking Care of You”

Ship: Cirrus/Phantom

Notes: Even though I'm falling behind I plan to still finish Mushy May, I may just end up doing it in my own time :) Prompt list by @forlorn-crows. See prompt list here

Word Count: 776

Read on AO3 or below the cut

They’re finally back at the hotel. Cirrus longs to just sink into bed but there's so much to do. With Aether back at the ministry, the air ghoulette has taken it upon herself to step up and take over his pack wrangling duties. This means getting everyone to re-glamour, get them off the bus with all their overnight bags, help Copia pass out room keys, and make sure everyone gets to their rooms alright. Only then can she finally shower and pass out in bed.

She’s happy to do all of it; don’t get her wrong. She’s never one to back away from bossing her fellow ghouls around in order to keep them in line. Still, it's a lot. She’s not sure how Aether does this full time.

Tonight everything seems to be going smoothly until Phantom tugs on her sleeve looking a little hesitant.

“What’s up, Bug.” She says tiredly. She ends up portraying an exasperation she doesn’t mean and winces when he pulls back.

“Nevermind.” He whispers.

“Hey it's okay love bug. I’m sorry, I’m just tired. What can I help with?”

“I was wondering if I could room with you tonight?”

“Yeah, of course sweetheart.” She hands him a key card. “Go ahead and head up. I’ll be right there.”

“Kay.”

Phantom grabs his own as well as her bag and heads off. As he disappears off to the elevator, Cirrus gets everyone else settled. Fortunately everyone is too tired for shenanigans and they just head off to bed quietly. Cirrus catches the elevator with Copia. She figures the ride will be quiet, both of them exhausted when he surprises her.

“Are you doing alright Cirrus?”

“Hmm?” She blinks at the question. It’s not surprising that he cares, Copia has always openly cared about the pack. She just doesn’t feel like she warrants the check in. Everything is fine. She tells him as much. “Yeah. Just tired.”

“Thank you for being such a big help. Just remember to also take care of yourself, sì?”

“Yes Papa.”

The elevator dings and they step out onto their floor.

“Goodnight my ghoul.”

“Goodnight Papa.”

Cirrus heads to her room feeling odd. She’s fine. Right? When she reaches her door, she shakes her head to clear it and steps inside.

“Hey Bug.”

Phantom’s head pops up from the blanket nest he’s created on the bed.

“Hey Ciri. I got the shower heated up for you and your pajamas laid out on the bathroom counter. I didn’t know if you were washing your hair tonight but I got your shampoo out just in case.”

Cirrus smiles but raises a brow. “And what’s all this for?”

Phantom shrugs. “Wanted to help.”

“I appreciate it but if you need the shower you can take it first.”

“I showered at the venue. I knew you would need it cause on hotel nights you always wait.”

Cirrus chuffs. “Are you calling me smelly?”

“No,” Phantom huffs, getting up to gently push Cirrus towards the bathroom. “I know you’re always too busy looking after everyone else to worry about yourself.”

“Okay, I’ll be quick. Are you sure you don’t need it or anything else?”

Phantom pulls a pout. “Shut up, I’m taking care of you alright?”

Cirrus giggles at the display but her heart melts a little.

“Go shower and then we’re cuddling and I’ll brush your hair.” Phantom tries his best to make it sound like a demand even when the end of his sentence pitches up like a question.

Still, Cirrus relents. “Okay, okay. Thanks sweetheart.”

She gives him a kiss on the brow and ducking into the bathroom before Phantom takes it upon himself to shove her in there. She finds the shower running as promised and at the perfect temperature. She showers and allows herself to actually take her time, washing her hair and enjoying the steamy air. After drying off, getting dressed, and brushing her teeth, she emerges to Phantom fluffing her pillows for her.

He pats the spot next to him in the blanket nest and she curls in and gets settled. He already has her hairbrush in hand and the second she’s comfy, he's running it through her hair. She feels much of the tension she’s been carrying the last few weeks begin to melt away and she can’t help the purr that hums in her chest. Phantom’s own purr quickly follows.

They don’t talk; they just enjoy each other’s company and warmth. Only when Phantom notices her nodding off does he coo to her.

“Get some sleep Cir.”

“Mmm…kay…” She doesn’t even try to protest. Just snuggles into him and drifts off into peaceful dreams.

[1mnobodywhoareyou]

birthday week prompt: "i hope to celebrate many more with you like this." taking a bit of icing off the cake and putting it on their cheek .

For Reggie and Carrie but in specific mean girlfriend and her hopelessly in love boyfriend who likes when shes mean to him.

god. you really do like to challenge me, don't you? i imagine this is going to be too tame for you and too much for others 😅 but hope it's at least halfway satisfactory

Reggie scoops a finger full of icing off of the cake. He’s just about to put it in his mouth when he’s interrupted by Carrie clearing her throat from the doorway. 

“Seriously?! You couldn’t at least wait until after everyone else had seen it.”

“But… yummy,” Reggie explains needlessly. 

Carrie rolls her eyes, “Would have still been yummy in the half hour you could have waited.”

Reggie offers his finger to her as a peace offering. Carrie eyes him warily before accepting it, opening her mouth slightly so that she can lick it off. 

When she’s finished, he takes a clean finger and scoops off another bit of the frosting for himself. 

“You can’t possibly be serious.”

“When am I ever?” he replies cheekily. He looks at his finger and back at Carrie, a mischievous glint in his eye. 

She sees through him immediately. “Don’t even think about it,” she warns. 

“Think about what?” he asks innocently, looking back at his hand.

“You know exactly what.”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

“Reginald Peters, I will break your fingers.”

“Promise?”

Carrie huffs out a frustrated breath. When Reggie gets into these moods, there is very little she can do to deter him. There’s a lot about him that she’s managed to hack but when he’s into her threats… Well, they’re less effective than she’d sometimes like them to be. “I’d have to redo my makeup.”

“Pity.”

“You have guests waiting.”

“So? It’s my birthday. They can wait.”

“Reggie,” she warns again.

“But I could lick it off of you,” Reggie murmurs. 

Carrie feels her knees weaken and tries to nonchalantly lean back against the counter. “You don’t like the taste of my makeup.”

“I’m happy to suffer for you.”

Reggie can sense her resolve softening. He reaches out with his (mostly) clean hand and rubs a thumb over her cheek. 

Carrie glares at him

He decides to tempt fate and smears the finger full of frosting down the other side of her face.

She grabs him by the wrist, harder than is probably entirely necessary, and makes a show of licking his finger clean. He watches intently, mouth gaping.

“I believe you said you’d do something about this?” Carrie challenges, turning her iced cheek toward him.

Reggie snaps his jaw closed and nods. He leans forward and runs his tongue up her cheek, cleaning the frosting off of her face. He fights back a grimace at the taste of her foundation and tries to focus instead on the sugary sweetness and the poorly muffled sounds she’s making. 

Satisfied that he’s gotten all of the icing from her face, he trails his tongue down to her jaw and sucks lightly until she pushes him away. “That’s enough. You have people waiting for you.”

“For us,” he corrects. “And fuck ‘em.” 

He tries to lean in for a kiss and Carrie presses a hand to his mouth, pushing him back. “No, not ‘fuck ‘em.’ I have a reputation to uphold. You can wait.”

Reggie whimpers at the thought. 

“And if you can’t be good…” she trails off, letting experience speak for her.

“I’ll be good, I promise.”

“You’d better be.” She pinches the underside of his arm. “And you’d better hope that fixing this doesn’t take very long,” she adds, gesturing to her face. “Go greet your guests, I’ll be right down. And for god’s sake, don’t touch that cake again.”

“Yes’m,” Reggie readily agrees, stopping just short of offering her a mock salute when she glares at him. 

It turns out that Reggie had caused barely any damage to Carrie’s makeup and she joins the party in no time, hosting and mingling like the seasoned professional she is. 

When the party’s over and the house is finally cleared out, they work to clean up what they can of the mess. Yes, there will be cleaners coming in tomorrow but Carrie’s not one to leave a disaster in her wake. 

Reggie walks up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist. “I hope to celebrate many more with you like this,” Reggie murmurs into the back of her neck.

“You’d better,” Carrie snarks back. 

“Nobody understands why we’re together, you know.”

“Yeah, well. It’s none of their business. Are you happy?” Carrie brings a free hand up to his head and runs it through Reggie’s hair, giving a light tug to accentuate her question.

“Of course. Perfectly. Are you?”

“As happy as I can be.”

“I guess that’s what matters, then.”

“Exactly. And if they give you any grief over it, they can answer to me.”

Reggie coughs out a dry laugh, “Yeah, okay.”

She turns in his arms and drapes her own over his shoulders. “If they love you like they say they do then they can keep their thoughts to themselves. They don’t have to understand me. Or us. But they do have to respect you.”

“Respecting you is part of respecting me.”

“Yeah, I don’t really care what they think of me to be completely honest.”

“Okay. Well, I care, Care.”

“That’s great for you.” She retracts her arms and turns back to what she’d been previously occupied with. “We have stuff to do. Now get to it if you want the rest of your birthday gift while it’s still technically your birthday.”

Reggie doesn’t need to be told twice, quickly finishing his task and helping Carrie with hers so he can see what she has planned for the rest of their night.

[free-to-be-no-one-but-mee]

Eliot, also known this weekend as “Chef Merino” (after his favourite type of wool), chopped seasonal root vegetables on a large wooden cutting board. Carrots, beets, turnips, shallots, everything spread out on several baking trays lined with parchment paper, oil and a special herb mix his mother taught him to make as a child.

He’d just taken his earpiece out, as everyone had told him to abandon post. These potatoes didn’t cut themselves, did they, and they wanted their alibis to hold for another two days, damn it. It was imperative the meal he put in front of the Ambassador and his wife was flawlessly executed, and he did not have the time to be a hitter if he was also going to be three Michelin Star Chef Antonio Merion. Only one of them was strictly needed right now, and it wasn’t a guy who could incapacitate another with a pinky and a one-liner.

When the chatter in his ear disappeared, there weren’t much else than the soothing staccato of blade against wood, and the solemn tapping of vegetable cubes sliding off metal. There was also a ticking noise.

A very distinct ticking noise. Eliot turned towards the pre-heated ovens.

Ticktick. Ticktick. Ticktick.

That was the sound of two Culinary Maxator Four-Thousand-And-Three X hitting their breaking curves after being used too hot for too long for too many consecutive days. In itself, this wasn’t anything strange, but the fact was that these were newly installed ovens in a newly renovated house in a newly bought villa, and, to the best of Eliot’s knowledge, this was the first time anyone had even put them on.

“Oh, no, you won’t,” he said, pointing a finger at the ovens. “No. You are not.”

He stepped up to them and put a hand on the glass. Heat radiated from the oven door to his skin and he held just a little too long before pulling back. The ticking continued, and amped up in volume. He pressed his thumb to his red palm. His skin stung, but he picked up the earpiece and put it back in. “Guys, we have a problem.”

Sophie answered first. “Eliot, what’s going on?”

“Something’s wrong with the ovens. They’re breaking.” 

“Breaking how?”

“The pressure is building in the internal pipes and they’re about five minutes from busting from the inside.”

“How do you know?” Parker piped in.

“Because!” Eliot groaned. “It’s a very distinct sound. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, they’re going to burst and there will be no dinner and the Ambassador can’t be blown away by the taste buds because he won’t be able to taste--”

“Eliot!” Sophie chimed. “Is there a backup plan?” 

“A backup plan? Of course, there’s a backup plan! It’s not my first rodeo, Soph. But this is not going to be a walk in the park, let me tell you.”

“Did I hear my name?”

“No.”

“No.”

“Okey-dokey!”

“All I’m saying is that I need...” He looked around the counter at the half finished meal still waiting for heat. “Twenty-eight minutes extra.”

“Shall we say thirty?”

“Twenty. Eight.”

Sophie laughed. “You heard the man! A twenty-eight-minute distraction, guys.”

Eliot took the earpiece out again, muttering. If there was one thing he was going to make damn sure of, was that nothing would ruin his dinner.

Written based on this prompt from @firefly124​ : Eliot, by some other name, while cooking for the team, notices the oven making a very distinctive sound. Maybe it's breaking, maybe it's sabotage, but it is damn well not ruining dinner.

[criminal-mids]

#7 - Hoodie

Prompt: Borrowed Hoodie 

Sickie: Garcia

Caretaker: Morgan 

Word Count: 1,411

“Hah? What? Since when!?”

Garcia can’t believe it. She swears she hadn’t heard a word of this until now, and she usually keeps a tab on office renovation schedules because she knows the noise bothers Reid.

“Listen, lady, we’re just the repair guys, it’s not our fault your bosses didn’t tell you. Take it up with them. We still have our job to do. Feel free to work somewhere else.”

“Some- this is my place!” Garcia tries not to shriek, but she can’t help it when they’re shoving her oh-so-carefully painted minifigures aside for their dusty work bags. She rolls her chair over just in time to prevent an elf from being crushed and scoops the rest of her plastic children into her skirt, just to be safe.

“And the aircon is old and falling apart, it's an OSHA violation waiting to happen. If you wanna be in here when it causes a spark, be my guest.”

“UGH!”

The repair only takes a half hour, and truthfully, she is grateful, grumble as she may. A fire or even too much smoke could kill her hard drives.

The real problem is when they finish.

“Um, could you turn the heat up a bit, please?” Even through her chattering teeth, she tries to be kind to the repairmen. She knows how hard they work.

“Sorry, ma’am, not yet. We’re still workin’ out some kinks. The HVAC’s been updated and we’re still trying to patch in the new system and the old system together. As I said before, other parts of the building will be warmer, but hey, you’re welcome to remain in your fortress of solitude if you want.”

She suppresses the urge to roll her eyes.

‘Can’t they see I’ve got a complicated setup?’

But, she shows no outward aggression. She’s not really that upset, just cold. “It’s fine. Thank you for your help. Could you at least tell me when it’ll be fixed?”

“Sometime in the next few days.”

She can tell that’s as good as she’s getting so she nods and waves as they head out.

Instead, she directs her ire towards the faulty machine itself.

“If I could hack you I would, but you're older than me, so you're safe . . . for now.” She holds up the minuscule screwdriver from her glasses repair kit as she glares at the aircon.

- She was being dramatic before, but she really is well and chilled now.

‘Ugh. Isn’t this just Bonita?’

“I’m a California girl, I wasn't meant for the cold.” She whines to her screens.

‘If I catch a cold, I’ll really be annoyed. And everyone knows my brain goes to complete mush when I’m sick. I’m useless. I can’t afford to be out of commission, not when the team seems busier than ever. Maybe I should move outside. I can always come back in here real quick if I need more computing power. The team’s still on the jet, so I’ve got some time to compile files.’

-

“Garcia, we need a list of all homicides involving victims with cuspids removed. Go back at least 10 years. We think this may be our unsubs signature.” Hotch’s voice is firm, but calm, as usual.

“You got it, cap’”

‘All those records, I’ll need my office for that, ah, oh well.’

She hurries back to her little corner of Quantico, opening the door to find that it has, somehow, gotten colder.

Still, she sits down and gets to work.

-

Just as she hits send and gets up to retreat to the land of warmth, her screen dings.

It’s Rossi this time.

“What can I do for ya, Italian amor?” Penelope finds it hard to keep a cheery tone with the cold blasting at her, making her lips quiver, but she hopes she manages.

Her effort is wasted because Rossi ignores the quip, pressing straight to business. Another request that requires her big screens.

“All these records are from the way back when before our good friend the internet. They’re unorganised at best. Combining through all of them will take a while, I’ll pull as many as I can, and send them to you as I get them.”

“Good.”

He hangs up. She sits back down, huffing.

“Potential OSHA violation? This is an OSHA violation right here!” She mutters, pulling her cardigan around herself. 

‘If I’d known I’d be working in Antarctica today I would’ve worn a jumper.’

Nevertheless, she begins.

—

Her hands are freezing, her fingers stiff and every click of the keyboard takes conscious effort. Okay, maybe she’s being dramatic, but she’s a California girl! Can you blame her?

Just when she thinks she’s done, more files under the search parameters come up. It’s unusually demoralising.

‘If only I had a jumper or something. Note to self, pack extra clothes for future emergencies. . . . Wait, emergencies! That's it!’

She springs up, with newly formed determination, and heads out to the bullpen.

She has a destination in mind, but as she draws closer, doubt creeps in.

‘I hope he won’t mind. Is this creepy? No, it’ll be fine, I’ll wear it, then put it right back like nothing ever happened at all. That’s what I’ll do.’

She reassures herself as she approaches Morgan’s desk. Everyone has two go bags, just in case they don’t have time to wash one set of clothes before departing again.

Garcia knows that in this bag she’ll most likely find one of Morgan’s many grey or black hoodies. And she’s right.

It’s right on top. She takes it gingerly, slipping it on, careful not to disturb her hair ornaments. It’s warm and soft.

With the extra layer, her office feels almost normal. 

Her typing speed quickens again until she’s at normal capacity. Rossi gets the data within the next 15 minutes.

She sighs, happy with her work.

And, now that she takes time to notice it, ��This hoodie does smell nice.’

She catches herself, then remembers she’s alone and takes another deep sniff. Morgan’s detergent has a pleasant smell that reminds her of him. Yeah, this was a good decision.

—

“Give us the best you got, pumpkin.” Morgan teases

“Oh, that’s for your ears only, handsome.” 

“I know. I’m going to transfer to video call, so you better be decent.”

“Never.” She teases with a theatrically breathy sigh.

The video chat opens revealing the team gathered around a desk, and maps in front of them.

“So Garcia, what did you find on-”

Prentiss cuts Reid off, “Wait, is that Morgan’s hoodie?”

Penelope blanches. “Wh-hat?” After a second of hesitation, she looks down, hoping by some miracle that all she’ll find is her cardigan and dress, but she already knows. She can still smell the detergent. “Oh, I- they were fixing the aircon in my office and it’s colder than the Fortress of Solitude in here so I just . . . I honestly don’t know what I was thinking! I wasn’t, I was just really cold! I can take it off. Let me just . . .” She fumbles with the hoodie, starting to pull it over her head.

“Slow down, baby girl. You look even cuter when you’re in my clothes, and I can’t have you catching a cold now can I, hmm?”

Penelope makes a noise somewhere between a squeak and squeal. “ . . . okay.”

Rossi clears his throat loudly, “Now, tell us what you found, we’re running out of time to find Kate.”

“Yes, at your service.” Still shaken, but with a new warmth in her chest, she continues.

—

“Baby girl, you in here?” Morgan’s familiar warm timbre drifts in from the door over the audio of an RPG game.

“Yes.” She blushes fiercely.

“I talked to Max and he said the system would be back to normal by tomorrow.”

“Oh, thank god. . . . I guess I should give this back to you then.” The end of the sentence is noticeably less enthusiastic than the beginning.

“Well, I was actually thinking you should keep it. Gotta mark my territory, don’t I?”

Penelope giggles, getting up to hug him.

He smells even nicer in person . . . like home, sometimes more so than the dozens of candles that fill her flat.

“Yeah.” then softer, “I’d wear a collar for you, Derek Morgan, you know that.”

“Tempting, but that can wait till tomorrow, it’s late, and even girl geniuses need their sleep.”

What a day, huh? And tomorrow she could come back to a warm office. Gideon was right, like he always said, life really is about the small things.

[quiverwingquack]

71 with glitchless for the fic prompts? <3

I'm always down to write for glitchless! Thanks for the request. (Here's the prompt list for everyone else!)

“It’s like they’re always waiting to catch you off your guard,” Gyro mutters. He’s hardly even focusing, hands busy dismantling a glitchy piece of the cloud. “And then they mess things up.”

Gandra laughs, a nervous but pretty sound. “Something like that, yeah.”

Gyro looks up, just for a second. She’s typing something on a hologram keyboard, her bangs hanging halfway in her face, a band-aid across one cheek after their fight with Beaks. Her free hand is shaking a little, betraying her worry with so many new people, but she’s still smiling and doing her best to finish her work. He turns back to his own task before he starts blushing.

Fenton was right. She is incredible.

“When you aren’t paying attention, they watch you,” he presses something wrong, and the glitch turns the familiar blue of a computer error. He frowns. “And then things go haywire as soon as they start going well.”

“Exactly! Huey said you’d get it. That you, uh… how did he phrase it? You didn’t start out a hero either.” She sits down beside him at the workstation, reaching for his tools. “But something tells me it wasn’t FOWL you got mixed up with.”

“It was just as bad,” he admits, turning the glitched piece so she can look at it. “My old mentor tried to destroy Tokyolk.”

“Very cool of him,” she says sarcastically, squinting and tilting her head as she looks over the glitch. “I bet you weren’t getting paid near enough for that.”

He laughs. It’s been a while since he’s talked to someone he felt could actually understand him, much less joke about the things he’s dealt with. “Of course not, when do they ever?”

“Never. At least, not with Bradford.”

“I was almost glad when he turned out evil,” he flicks his hand, creating a set of hex keys, then pulls out the smallest one. “He’s a terrible boss. Always talking about budgets and turning down good projects.”

“He really is!” Gandra laughs again, leaning over the glitch with a screwdriver in one hand. This time, she sounds a little more comfortable. “You’d think after decades of master planning he’d at least be a good villain, but he’s just some tightwad in a suit.”

“That’s Bradford, alright,” Gyro laughs too. But he’s distracted now, spinning the hex key between his fingers. She hates stuck-up businessmen almost as much as he does, and she’s prickly but kind, and her hair is falling over her very blue eyes again like it’s a shield, but she’s letting him past it. He remembers Fenton telling him earlier, in a hurry, that she was a “really good person and so understanding and just like us, if you’ll give her a chance” and he gets it. He gets her.

She’s a scientist with big dreams that the world keeps burying. A hopeful heart she’s had to hide, because sometimes plans don’t work out and people aren’t kind to new ideas. He understands that all too well. It’s what he bonded with Fenton over, despite their many differences—they see each other, all of each other, like nobody else has ever been able to before. And though they’ve barely met, he knows why Fenton’s fallen in love with her, and he’s trying to keep himself from doing the same.

After all, what are the odds they both look at him the same way?

“I think that should do it,” Gandra declares, a hint of triumph pushing through the anxiety. “That might be all of them.”

“It should be,” Gyro agrees, looking around at the beautiful landscape. “You two built something really… special. I’m impressed.”

“Oh! Um, thanks. Thank you,” all of a sudden, she’s blushing. “Fenton said you’d be happy to help work out the kinks, but I was worried it would go wrong and… well, you know.”

“Yeah. I know.” He sighs, pushing away bad memories of past disasters. “That’s the hardest part of inventing things. But I’m… glad you trusted us.”

“I’m glad I trusted you too,” she looks away, her voice suddenly turning soft. “It’s… nice to know someone else understands, I guess. Nobody else has before.”

“Yeah,” Gyro looks out over the yellowed sky, the jagged clouds drifting past. He could never have invented something of this magnitude alone, but working together has brought one of Fenton’s elaborate ideas to life. And though he’s loathe to admit it, his former intern is becoming a great scientist in his own—

“Hi, Dr. Gearloose! And hi Gandra!” Fenton chirps, suddenly behind them. “M’ma had to head home, and honestly I’m kind of relieved. She can be so protective sometimes, and I know she means well, but—well, I can take care of myself. And I trust you guys! I think I managed to convince her it’ll be okay if I stay late to work on the Gizmocloud a little while longer.”

“Gizmocloud. What a stupid name,” Gyro remarks, before he can stop himself. He’s trying to be the mentor Akita could never be for himself, but sometimes Fenton’s personality and his just… clash.

“That’s what I said!” Gandra declares, reaching over to kiss Fenton’s cheek. “We’re still workshopping.”

And there, beside them both, watching the pixelated waves roll and taking in a view they’ve built together, Gyro decides he could get used to this. He could get used to being loved and part of something.

[ticiie]

week 4: "I don't know what I'm feeling but there's a lot of it"

prompt from the off-season winter sport fandom challenge

length: 841 words

characters: Marco Odermatt, Loïc Meillard, Zoé Chastan, Gino Caviezel, Justin Murisier (mentioned)

author's note: happy 92 days anniversary of one of the best days in swiss sport-history! decided to take a few changes on it just because i can and also because i miss the ski himbos being happy himbos

Zoé's knees gave in the second Loïc had crossed the finish line. He had been the last one to start in the second run, Marco had already shown his best, leaving the third on the podium more than a second behind him and, now that it was official, so did Loïc. Her colleagues were too tied up with screaming in joy to understand the significance of Loïc's timestamp. But when Marco came running towards him, his force knocking them both over, one single mess of limbs and skis and happy tears, realization hit them with a sudden burst. There was no holding back. And Zoé was unable to stand, with all the pressure gone from one second to the next, all she could do was to cry. Many staff members came hugging her first before losing themselves in their frenzy. Through the veil of tears, she eventually saw her boyfriend’s face projected to the big screen. Behind them, volunteers started setting up the podium for the unofficial winners’ presentation. 

“Congratulations to this victory, Loïc Meillard and Marco Odermatt! How does it feel to be a world champion?”, the interviewer asked. The swiss fans were almost loud enough to drown her out. Marco was distracted by someone in the crowd, Zoé couldn’t tell who exactly he was waving at so eagerly, so Loïc took over answering. “Uh, I don’t know what I’m feeling but there’s a lot of it. I personally didn’t expect it to turn out like this, I was glad to have made it into the second run, let alone to stay first, I- I have no words.” 

“You really deserve it; your performance was incredible. What about you, Marco?” Loïc nudged Marco’s side to draw his attention to the camera and the journalist. His smile was bigger and brighter than the sun that was fighting itself through a layer of clouds. 

“Sorry, what was the question again?” 

Everyone laughed, including the interviewer. She showed mercy with the two athletes and only asked Marco this one question before they were allowed to leave the stage for a few minutes until the broadcaster was ready again. Marco and Loïc both hurried across fences and through the crowd of other athletes and operatives until they finally reached the spot their team had gathered. Zoé didn’t see how but Loïc managed to escape dying of suffocation and instead found her, wrapping her up in a bear hug. He was aware of the cameras that were probably pointed at them this very second but for once, he didn’t care about it at all. Having Zoé pressed to his chest, hearing the team rejoice, was enough to tear down each and every single wall inside of him. He felt the tears streaming down his cheeks. Marco wasn’t doing any better either and considering the fact the pressure on his shoulders had been quite a bit larger than what Loïc had experienced, it wasn’t a surprise at all to find him still standing, but sobbing. Zoé was the first to regain her composure. She let go of Loïc only so much she could look at him.  

“They’re waiting for you; you need to get back-” Loïc interrupted her with a kiss. Marco didn’t remember half of what followed, someone awarded him a flower bouquet and he assumed he had sung along the national anthem but he wouldn’t have wanted to bet money on that. His body acted on his own accords while his mind was somewhere else, still trying to wrap itself around the fact that Switzerland had just conquered not one, but two gold medals in a single race. He did as he was told, gave an interview here, smiled into a dozen cameras there, answered the same questions repeatedly when all he really wanted to do was to be with Gino and also Justin because victory tasted best alongside cheap beer and terrible music, he remembered that much from China. And finally, after what felt like an entire year, all TV stations uttered their contentment. Marco was out of the building in a matter of seconds. He had lost an overview on their obligations that followed a victory this big about two or three glasses of champagne ago and therefore had no clue where Loïc was. Marco had felt his phone vibrating in his pocket throughout the entire last interview and now found it covered in texts and pictures, all regarding the party that was going down in the house of Switzerland. 

Gino was waiting for him at the back entrance. He met Marco halfway once he saw him coming and didn’t miss another second to finally kiss his world champion. The world around them slowed down, allowing Marco to breathe. He felt nothing else than Gino’s lips on his, Gino’s arms around him, Gino, Gino, Gino. And when they parted again, their foreheads pressed against each other, both trying to savor every last fracture of the moment, Gino asked how Marco was feeling. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than this very second.” 

[charbend]

System Overflow Chapter 2

Frank sat in his chair, still spinning from his rough landing. He stared helplessly at the screen in front of him, which moved to keep itself a fixed distance in front of his face. He stood up sharply, his chair sliding back into the wall of his cubicle.

The cubicles next to him were empty. He could still feel the warmth from Jason’s hand.

His breathing started becoming panicked. “They’re gone. Okay. Some weird flash of light took my friends. Were we friends? Jason would probably think so, but I don’t know about Sanjay.”

He chuckled nervously. Probably not the thing to be worrying about right now.

Looking past his cubicle group, he tried to spot anyone else who might still be in the office. There weren’t many people on this floor, so a visual inspection was quick. He was alone.

“Is there anybody else here?” he called out.

All he heard back was the air conditioning kicking in.

Okay. Deep breaths. Maybe everyone who’s left will be at the emergency meeting site. Right? He glanced around. This feels like it could be considered an emergency.

He stepped out of his cubicle. The screen followed him, and he eyed it warily. “You told everyone that the teleportation thing was going to happen, right? Any chance you could tell me something helpful, instead? Something that will make me feel a little less like the sky is falling?”

The screen didn’t respond. It maintained the same message:

Unable to finish teleportation operation. Emergency procedures engaged.

Please wait while procedures are confirmed…

Error! Planet [Earth] does not fit any emergency procedure conditions!

Engaging Auto-Sweep to clean loose ends.

“Hmm. No. Well, I guess I should get to my own ‘emergency procedures’ then.”

He tried side-stepping the ominous message, but it remained resolutely in the center of his vision. Frustrated, he swiped his hand at it, and it slid to his peripheral vision, compressing into a neat little notice with an exclamation mark.

“Oh, great. I have a personal heads-up display now. Just what I always wanted…” With his vision now clear and feeling like he had a bit more control over the situation, he set off. 

Okay, first step in meeting at the evacuation site: find a map to the evacuation site.

He heard a crashing boom from outside.

I’m sure that’s fine.

<O/%%%%%/O/%%%%%/O>

It was not fine. He stood on the second floor landing of the stairs, where he had found emergency exit procedures. He’d had a moment to look at them before his attention was drawn out the window beside the map.

Frank worked in an office that its architect might sell as a ‘timeless look for industries of all kinds’, but could charitably be called a brutalist enclosure for humanity. ‘Office’ and ‘Park’ were not words that should be joined together.

This office was considered accessible, which meant that it sat right off the freeway. From the window that Frank stood at, he had a good view of the road.

He was glad he hadn’t gone out for lunch yet.

The entire roadway was a wreckage of steel and wheels, the occupants having either crashed when magic screens showed up in their faces while driving, or disappeared entirely, leaving vehicles to drift aimlessly.

This was the first time he’d seen people since his coworkers had been teleported.

Unfortunately, this was also the first time he’d seen dead people. He turned away, queasy.

This isn’t good.

With a little prompting, he pulled back up the notice.

Error! Teleportation capacity exceeded.

8,126,934,201 / 7,000,000,000

“This is happening everywhere.” He glanced back out the window before looking away. Guess it’s not gonna be climate change that gets us.

He dismissed the notification again, letting it collapse to the side of his vision. He stood back up, and continued down the stairs. The assembly point was downstairs. Hopefully someone would be there.

<O/%%%%%/O/%%%%%/O>

Even after waiting for a while, no one else showed up. He was alone at the office.

Frank sighed. “I never thought I’d find myself wishing remote work was abolished.”

He looked around the little courtyard. If it weren’t for the unwelcome notice in the corner of his vision, it would be a lovely day. The sun was out, giving a nice, gentle warmth as he sat on a bench in the middle of the nice, manicured lawn. There wasn’t even a single plane in the sky to break the calm of the day.

Suddenly, a new screen popped into view.

Auto-Sweep process engaging.

Errors to resolve:

[Users] on world

Unusual energy signatures on world

Unknown Skills detected

His stomach sank. “What now?”

Resolving: Unknown Skills detected

Categorizing Skills...

Integrating Skills...

Unknown Skills no longer detected

Resolving: Unusual energy signatures on world

Analyzing energy signatures…

Integrating energy signatures…

New Skills created!

Resolving: [Users] on world

Error! [Users] on world that has been evacuated.

Recategorizing [Users]...

Another pop-up appeared in Frank’s view. This one appeared to be a status sheet, though it was filled with all manner of data that he couldn’t parse at a glance. What did draw his attention, however, were a few lines at the top:

Frank Vila

Human [User]

As he looked, it changed to:

Frank Vila

Human [Native]

Then it disappeared.

Resolving: [Users] on world

Error! [Users] on world that has been evacuated.

Recategorizing [Users]...

[Users] recategorized!

[Users] no longer on world.

All errors resolved!

Beginning terraforming…

The blue screen stopped updating, and a green screen appeared. Frank ignored it, compressing it to the side of his view immediately. He laid down and looked at the sky. “I was not ready for today.”

The clouds scudded by as he lay there, letting himself have a moment to just be, without worry.

Distantly, another explosion sounded.

“Yeah, okay, so much for that. Let’s take a look at the information I have, shall we?”

He flipped open the blue screen, the log of messages he’d received still present.

“Whatever this is, it looks like it was trying to teleport everyone on Earth. Obviously, it failed. That means there are definitely still others out there. At least…” He squinted at the numbers. “One billion and some change. That feels like a lot, at least.”

He scrolled up further. “I guess the 7 billion lucky winners are off in the ‘tutorial phase’, whatever that means. Jason and Sanjay are probably there, and…” he was struck by a thought. “My family! They’re caught up in this too.”

He reached for the phone in his pocket, before he remembered that it was still at his desk. I need to check in on them. Right now I have no leads on what is happening to them, or where they are. I’ll need to get my phone, but I’m concerned about this latest message. All the [Users] on the planet, which I assume is everyone, are now considered [Natives]. He tilted his head. “Hmm, feels a bit like a downgrade, but I don’t know where everything fits in. It said it’s some System, right? So, a [User] feels pretty straightforward, but [Native]? I have no idea.”

He glanced at the green notification at the side. Maybe this will give me some clues. He pulled the green notification over, letting the blue screen disappear.

Type changed to [Native]!

[Native] : generally reserved for unintelligent life, [Native] provides System access. This access can expand and change as [Native] is affected by terraforming. For more information, see [Lifeform] type.

The screen vanished shortly after he finished reading it.

“Okay. So, definitely a downgrade,” he said shakily. “Subject to terraforming can’t be good, can it?”

He stood up on wobbly legs, and gave one last look around. No one had shown up yet. It was time to move on. He started heading back to the office. “If I can get in contact with my family, great. If not, maybe I can reach out to someone else. Sanjay seemed to have an idea of what was going on; maybe someone else does as well.”

His stomach growled. Jason had some food stored away, too. Anxiety straddling his shoulders like a child he’d never had, he made his way back to the office, eyes peeled for signs of this ‘terraforming’.

It didn’t take long to find him, as a glowing blue squirrel jumped him on his way in the building.

***

You can find this on Royal Road! (https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/83902)

[faelune-home]

FFXIVWrite 2023 #18: Fish out of Water

(A/n: This prompt was too perfect for Yuri's settling in arc, especially after the literal previous entry, so we continue with her perspective again today! Admittedly, this is a bit wordy and waffly, but I felt like I hit a lot of points for her - her homesickness, loneliness, and just general temper problems and how short she gets with others.

Being pushed onto errands she didn't ask for and busying her with work when she was doing something else, on top of not being great with new people, she feels like she'll literally snap at someone eventually aha.

I hope it all came across with her here.

Word count: 1580)

Yuri was almost at her limit with this city and its scholars and the inane back and forth they insisted on having her do for all these stupid errands. Needing a book for Krile that was still in one professor’s pile of things, but oh, they’d give it to her if she sent off some paperwork to the market vendor at the other end of the city, but then that vendor needed some help with getting some boxes down to the pier, and then the customs officer needed something as well–

Kami give her strength, she was this close to snapping back at someone and insisting they do the work themselves. Oh they would say they’re too busy, but everyone was busy, she was busy too, she was supposed to be back with Krile at the last bell! 

Though for a small blessing, Krile at least seemed to understand when Yuri showed up, unknown box in arm, explaining why she still didn’t have that book, but she did have a paper addressed to the Students, though she couldn’t recall where she’d picked it up from amongst the chain of work from the day. It was a struggle to keep the bite out of her words, it wasn’t aimed at the other woman.

“Here, why don’t you leave that here and go take a rest?” Krile had suggested, gesturing at the box, “I know someone that can take that up for you, save you some of the work. I’m sure professor Antoinaut will be finished by the time you return.”

The Last Stand was one of the only places that made decent food in the city, much to Yuri’s dismay. Not that the food itself was disappointing, it was as delicious as it had been described to her, and she would take the trip across the city, no matter how taxing her day had been, just to eat there. Better than the tasteless sawdust these scholars seemed to call bread, nutritional value be damned.

But truly, Yuri’s woes lay more in the lack of connection to her home, especially in the food. They certainly knew of Hingan dishes, and some few recipes had made their way into cookbooks upon the library shelves at Noumenon or even in the Last Stand’s kitchens. And bless the chefs, they’d made an attempt at some of them when she’d asked, even if they had to substitute much of the ingredients due to the last minute order, and the results were certainly…passable. Still tasty, and filling for what she was looking for, but compared to her memory of home, it was still somewhat different, enough to make her feel homesick.

(The waiter took her order, familiar with her requests after the brief time she’d spent in the city, leaving Yuri to people watch while she waited. The back and forth of the pier was the same as always, freight deliveries, gleaners going to and fro, some with a scholar chatting by their side. Many faces she still didn’t recognise in the throng - an idle lalafell standing around under the awnings in wait, a pair of students chatting by the water and pointing to the daylight skies, a miqo’te woman chatting away to Dickon at the desk, a box under arm.)

Even as she slurped her way through an oden bowl, her mind kept going back to the winters when old lady Yoko would prepare a big pot for the town’s young ones, or when Raiden would try to show off to the younger children with the heaps of konpeito he’d brought them back from his travels to the other town. And memories of the old faces just made her feel as though she stood out all the more keenly. 

There were few Hingan or Doman individuals in Sharlayan, most of them having moved with family from a young age and long since settled to consider the city their home. The few that were transfers on their own educational leave were still too estranged for Yuri to connect to, leaving her with just her father to talk with. But even he would be leaving soon for new pastures, his time at the institute come to an end.

She had to wonder how he managed so far from home. Perhaps his travelling had long since desensitised him to homesickness, his taste for knowledge and experiencing other cultures and discovery winning out over the pangs for the familiar. The appeal of travel and the world's wonders had her ensnared from a young age due to her father’s tales, but Yuri had always been wary of following in his exact footsteps for fear of that growing distance; the only solace to her that he never forgot her or mother during his long absences being his ever frequent letters and gifts home.

(A chill wind blew through the restaurant, making her shiver despite the warming meal she ate. Damn this city and how far north it was! She’d never been good with the cold, and the thought of travelling to lands as prone to cold as this did not sound appealing. Her father would surely tease her, a scholar should be willing to brave any weather after all to sate their curiosity. But damn it all, she didn’t like it! It seems others dotted around the pier felt the chill as well, as she could see scowls on faces and small clusters moving out deeper into the city. And that same miqo’te with a few new boxes piled in her arms stopping short and visibly shivering with the breeze.)

Those letters did still stoke the fires of her own curiosity, hence why she was even here, taking her own first step into the wider world, even if it was a smaller step than her own father had done, instantly setting off for the furthest corner he could reach. And as much as the menial work she’d been set with here was grating on her, almost fit to burst and scream at the next person who asked for a favour–

No. No. That wasn't fair. Perhaps every other market stall owner and studium professor was a pain about asking for more and more help when she was already on an errand, but the Students themselves - Krile and G’raha - had been more than welcoming. They’d taken their time with her to help her settle in and make sure she was alright with the work at hand - more boring affairs such as filing and organising the Annex, but given the state of it, she could understand the need.

They hadn’t asked her to do anything more strenuous than errands around town - which is what ended up flaring up the worst of her temper, but again, that was mostly everyone else sending her on extra trips at the same time before she finally returned to the Annex - but they always offered to help guide her if she needed it.

And often, she was turning it down as a way to showcase her own independence and not have to rely on them overmuch. But now she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe someone was present, her trips would cut straight to the point. But then they would be busy as well, organising their own work and keeping track of any far flung agents, could she really take up their time for a simple delivery to the library or a pick up at the docks?

Yuri sighed. It’d be best to ask rather than assume. Maybe if she went back now, with her food finished and temper cooled, she could broach the question.

She waved down a waiter to collect her empty bowl - delicious and foreign as it always was - and set off from the restaurant. A faint dusting of snow began to fall. Well, as much as she disliked the cold, she couldn’t help but enjoy the snow fall. It rarely lay and caused the problems snow usually would. Perhaps some form of magicks running through the marble path tiles? Or was that a tad too far even for the vaunted scholars of Sharlayan? Or maybe it was, since they managed to keep their plentiful water features from freezing year round.

“Ah welcome back,” Ojika welcomed her with a bow, “Enjoy your meal?”

“Well enough,” Yuri nodded back, “is Krile here? Or G’raha?”

“G’raha stepped out - something to do with a gleaner request in Labyrinthos - but Krile is here, and she was waiting for you actually. She has a guest she would like you to meet. Step right through.” Yuri’s interest was piqued, though she remained careful as she made her way through to the main hall.

The door was wide open and voices could be heard as she walked the corridor. She slowed to avoid her clicking heels from catching their attention before she arrived fully at the door, standing at the entranceway until she was noticed.

Krile spied her instantly of course, facing her way as she was while their guest had her back to the doors.

“Ah, there you are. Pleasant meal?” she asked. The other figure - fluffy tail twitching, her ears perked up at the sudden and silent arrival - turned. That miqo’te…

“If it’s alright with you,” Krile started, already gesturing to their extra addition, who herself was beginning to smile broadly, pointed teeth on show, “I’d like to introduce you to someone. She might just understand some of what you’ve gone through personally, if you recall our own chats before now.”

[activatebutterflyshield]

Day 5! Okay, this WIP is really hecking long (5000+ words and counting) so I’m splitting it up into a few posts over the next few days. It was a response to a @/writing-prompt-s’ prompt, but I lost the original post. Again. Whoops!

-

Debt (Part 1)

-

Albatross got up to answer the desperate rapping at the safehouse door. Everyone but Magpie was sleeping off the training, but the right-hand man was too worked up to rest. Pulling on his peaked hood, he looked through the peephole Magpie had installed, and saw… Lily of the Valley?

She was certainly the plant-powered heroine, but the ragged figure looked almost nothing like the fearless super they had time and time again faced in open battle and negotiations alike. Lily’s long hair was limp and soaked in the rain, framing a face of running makeup and eyes red from crying. She wore plainclothes, jeans and a t-shirt, but they were muddy and torn and maybe even scorched besides being fully soaked through. Her arms were covered in bruises and a few hastily bandaged cuts. She was also barefoot, her feet swollen and red from running across the Los Angeles concrete.

Without hesitating, Albatross threw open the door as fast as his clawed hands could undo the four locks and two deadbolts. It slammed against the wall, and Lily flinched at the noise before looking up. Though the hero was nowhere near Albatross’ six foot four inches, she had always projected confidence and power to equal every member of the Murder of Crows. But now she was far tinier than her five foot two frame, hunched and shivering in the storm.

“A-Albat-t-tross?” Lily stammered, stumbling forward slowly, “I-I-I didn’t know where else to—“

Her words cut off as she fell into the warehouse, caught safely by Albatross’ waiting arms. He supported her with one wing and one arm as he re-bolted the door, before picking her up easily and striding into the common area.

Magpie looked up, his never-still fingers still clacking the keys of his computer. “What was that no— Lily?”

Albatross nodded. “Soaked through, beat up, and robbed blind, I reckon. Wake up the Murder. I gotta lay her out somewhere…”

The techie was up and off to the resting rooms before Albatross had finished speaking, computer station abandoned. He laid Lily out on the second-hand dining table the Murder used for meals and planning, carefully inspecting her injuries.

Four sets of running feet hammered down the hallway as the rest of the Murder burst into the common area. Swallowtail came first, her arms full of spare clothes and first aid equipment. Magpie and Harpy entered next, followed by their leader, Midnight Raven. All of them came to Albatross’ side at the table.

“Oh, Lily,” Swallowtail muttered, wringing her hands as Harpy began first aid, “What happened to you?”

Magpie had broken out his camera, taking detailed photos of the heroine’s injuries. “A super must’ve done this, no way could some punk burn Lily in the middle of a storm with a Zippo.”

“What do you make of this, Raven?” Albatross asked him.

“Well,” the leader of the Murder responded, casting his eyes over the unconscious Lily, “She either trusts us, or was in such a bad position that we were the best option. But I agree with Magpie; those burns were made by a super. The shape’s around the size of a hand, and they’re where a mugger would grab someone, on the arm and around the torso.”

Harpy looked up from applying a new bandage to a large, rough cut on Lily’s forearm, not even pausing while he spoke. “I think one of the gangs is responsible for this one, boss. Claw marks, burns, bruises, and mud? We’re nowhere near a park, so that’s at least three different powers, possibly more.”

Raven nodded. “How long ago do you think this happened, Harpy?”

“Not more than an hour ago, I’d say. If she ran straight here and collapsed, and given her condition, I’d bet on no more than thirty minutes ago.”

Raven nodded again. “Alright then. It’s what, nine-thirty? Get some rest. We’re up and moving as soon as Lily tells us more.”

-

Lily came too around twelve hours later, laid out on a slightly threadbare couch and under a well-worn blanket. She felt her arms, wincing as she grasped new gauze bandages over where the masked attackers had clawed and burned and stabbed at her.

A familiar deep voice and a strong hand on her shoulder interrupted her. “Don’t, it’ll just break the scabs.”

Lily jerked around, instinctively trying to pull out seeds from pockets that didn’t exist, nearly falling over in the process. Harpy reached out to steady her.

“Careful. I don’t want to have to dress them again, Lily of the Valley.”

She righted herself with some difficulty before staring in disbelief at the villain who had apparently treated her wounds. “W-What? You… dressed my wounds?”

Harpy nodded. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I? Never mind, Raven would like to hear about what happened to you last night.”

Lily only became more confused. “Why would he want to know? A-And why would I tell him, anyway?”

Another deep voice answered her from somewhere else in the room. “So that we may uphold the golden rule in your place, Lily London.”

The heroine spun around again, managing to keep her balance as she took in the figure of the Midnight Raven, flanked by Albatross and Swallowtail, each of them familiar adversaries. The Raven was tall, but shorter than Albatross, and even without his mask on, his face still seemed shrouded in shadow.

“Why would you ever do anything for me, Shadowpinner?” She hissed, trying to wriggle out of Harpy’s firm grip on her shoulder.

Swallowtail cocked her head at the heroine. “She isn’t acting like the Lily who I remember.”

Raven nodded. “Indeed. Magpie?”

A shorter man stuck his head from around the doorframe the other villains had exited from, long bangs covering his eyes and slightly glowing circles slowly spinning around his head. “Yeah?”

“What exact injuries did you see on Lily last night?”

“Uhmmmm…” Magpie trailed off as he worked to recall the memory, “three claw-like cuts, two burns, more than ten distinct bruises, several mud smears, and what looked like a needle injection site.”

“A-An injection site?” Lily stammered, stopping her struggle, “Like a vaccine?”

“Or a drug,” Albatross realized.

Raven’s nod confirmed his suspicions. “Magpie, are there any drugs that require injection and can cause confusion in the victim out there on the streets?”

His head ducked back behind the doorframe for a few seconds filled with the clacking of keys before it came back out.

“Indeed there is, boss. A little liquid called Syrup, aka Honey, aka Simple Stuff, aka a lot of other names that reference its viscosity and supposed sweetness. Created by one of the family gangs, the Golden Hornets, whose power has something to do with intensifying the strength of already available drugs. It makes people drowsy, then confused and overly paranoid when injected, but taken orally, it’s basically a painkiller.”

“That would explain Miss Of the Valley’s behavior,” Harpy said, “But not why she got beat up. Who has access to this Syrup?”

More key clacking preceded the response. “A decent number of people. It seems the Golden Hornets are just the producers, and they sell it to other gangs, most notably the Dog Whistles, the Sawsharks, and the Quicksilvers, who then sell them on the street. But… there has been some, er, disagreements over the right to distribute Syrup. Mainly between the Dog Whistles and the Lion Queens.”

“Never heard of the Queens before,” Swallow commented, “are they upstarts?”

“Yes. All the police reports have them as being no larger than 20 members, not a proper gang yet, and wanting to carve a place for themselves.”

“You got any photos?” Raven asked.

Keys clacked again, longer this time, before Magpie’s head returned. “Some. Not very quality, just security footage and some lucky newsie’s action shots.”

He turned to Lily, still frozen in Harpy’s grip. “Could you describe what your attackers looked like? What they were wearing and such?”

“If you stop manhandling me, Cloudjumper.”

Harpy let her go.

Rubbing her shoulder and suspiciously eyeing each of the villains in sight, Lily sighed as she sat up. “There were seven I could see, but only four attacked me. Every one wore a standard kerchief mask, yellowish-brown and shiny. They wore some kinda uniform, but all I can remember is that they had coattails and high boots, and that they were colored dark brown. The four who attacked me were all as bald as Golden Lighting and African-American, but the three who didn’t had lots of hair, dark in color.”

Her hands hovered over her bandages as she continued.

“The one with claws was tall with a furry tail, and their eyes were hazel. The one with earth powers was shorter and had armor of some kind on their arms, with brown eyes. The one who punched me was medium height with a short mantle of sorts, and had really dark eyes. And the one who injected me had blue eyes. I couldn’t tell if they had other powers before I got away. And at least one of the long haired ones had wings, not feathered.”

Magpie had ducked back behind the doorframe in the middle of Lily’s account, his keyboard noises ceaseless for thirty seconds after she finished. Harpy gently patted her shoulder as they waited for the techie.

“Jackpot!” Magpie’s head re-emerged, and his crosshairs were spinning like tops. “I got an ID on everyone you described! Long-Wings is probably Melody Mitchel, a commander among the Lion Queens. And the four toughs are definitely some of her known lackeys; Terryl Tyson is Tail-Claws, Renell Rose is the Earth-Armor, Stefan Smith is Ten-Punches, and Violet Victorson is Blue-Injector. All have been arrested, but not charged, as members of the Queen Lions gang, save Melody. This is the clearest picture I could find.”

He shoved a bulky laptop out on a swivel chair, its screen showing a gory blown-up newspaper photo of ten figures dressed in the coattailed uniforms fighting with ten other figures dressed in the silver and grey trench coats of the Dog Whistles.

One had a full head of frizzy hair and bat-like wings, leaping from a rooftop with shoeless feet baring clawed paws. One had a furry tail and was but a streak as they shoved a hand into the chest of a Dog Whistle, blood flying. One was far shorter than their opponent, guarding their head from a heavy tail’s descent with their oversized rock gauntlets. One had a short mantle over their uniform and was fist fighting a Dog Whistle with curly horns. And one was just a shadow in an alleyway, holding something and standing over a slumped form.

Lily backed away from the photo as the Murder crowded close.

“T-Thats them, for sure. They’re the ones who… got me.” The last two words came after a pause; the heroine was still denying that she had been bested.

Raven nodded. “I assume that you already know where these Lions hunt, Magpie?”

“Yup.”

“Well then.” The villain turned to Lily, who was eyeing him with suspicion again. “What would you do, Lily London, if you were able, and if the Wild and Free were by your side?”

There was no hesitation in her answer. “Get them. Get even with my attackers, and knock the whole of the Lion Queens down a few pegs.”

“Then that is what we shall do.”

[radiant-reid]

Betting game

A/n: Based on this request. Requests are still open

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

WC: 3k

CW: sexual allusion

It was no secret to any local police team or other branches of the FBI that the BAU team was incredibly close. They were a family. No matter who came or went, they were able to keep it together.

Part of being a family meant teasing the youngest siblings, or Y/n Y/l/n and Spencer Reid.

"They're both not here. That's got to be enough proof." Penelope declared from her spot at the head of the round table, in front of the screen. She gestured at the two empty seats where the missing agents usually sat to convey her point.

Hotch had called them at 8 at night on a Saturday. Apparently, serial killers didn't care about their dinner plans. And, as they were waiting on two of their team members, what else were they meant to do but theorize about whether or not the couple actually were a couple.

Blake shot her an unconvinced look. "Maybe they just both happen to not be here." She offered as an explanation in defense of her colleagues. No one could guarantee they were together just because they were the last ones to get there.

"Baby girl, can't you just track their phones?" Morgan questioned, swinging slightly on his chair. "You know, in your infinite wisdom as the Queen of Tech." He joked, winking at her.

Penelope guiltily shook her head, looking over at the unit chief. "I'm not allowed to track any of your phones unless Hotch puts in his passcode." She admitted, Hotch almost smiling about it.

"Why's that?" Rossi pressed, now interested in what caused Penelope to be so guilty.

"One time I saw Hotch's phone at-"

"Garcia." Hotch interrupted Penelope before she could reveal whatever secret about Hotch she was keeping.

Penelope shut up after that as Hotch shifted in his seat.

"Okay, but I'm sure Spence would have told me if they were dating." JJ broke the awkward silence with her opinion.

Rossi had a sudden bright idea. "Let's bet on it." He announced.

Everyone else was quick to agree, even Hotch, who had a recently discovered fun side.

"We'll have a team dinner, and the winner gets to choose where," Hotch announced the prize. "The winner needs direct evidence or a confession."

They all nodded in agreement. Penelope opened up a document to write down their bets.

Starting with Blake. "I don't think they're dating." She declared. "I think they like each other, but I don't think they're officially together."

Penelope wrote down her hypothesis, turning to JJ, who sat next to her. "I think they've been on one or two dates." She theorized.

Rossi was next, thinking it over before playing his cards. "I think they're officially together, and I'll be able to catch them together in the next two weeks." Penelope dutifully wrote it down.

Then Hotch. "I think they're together, and I'll be able to gather evidence the proves it beyond a reasonable doubt in a week." He spoke like the lawyer he once was.

Morgan was able to one-up him. "A week, and I'll get the confession from Y/n."

Penelope was the last one to bet. "A week, and I'll get the confession from Spencer." She declared.

Just as she'd finished, Y/n walked in. "Nice to see you all again so soon." She joked as she took her seat. Everyone's guilty looks alluded her to the fact she'd walk in on a private conversation. "What are we doing?" She questioned, her eyes fixating on Penelope, who was typing.

Each one of them looked like they were caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Morgan cleared his throat before answering. "Just playing a game."

Y/n had never seen them all sharing the same look, so she pushed it. "Can I play?"

Penelope quickly shook her head before realizing she didn't have an explanation as to why. "Uh, we should get started on the case." She declared nervously, pressing buttons on her laptop.

"Aren't we missing someone?" Y/n prompted with a giggle, nodding towards Spencer's chair.

Penelope nodded, drumming her fingers against the desk. Somehow, Y/n's presence was making them all nervous, and she found it entertaining.

"What plans did you have to bail from, Y/n?" Morgan asked her, inconspicuously trying to gain some information.

Y/n's heart rate picked up, hoping they wouldn't be able to see through the lie she was about to tell. "Uh, I was just out for dinner." She told them all.

"Anywhere good?" Hotch asked oddly. He knew with the right answer from her, he'd be able to catch the couple out in a lie.

Y/n hummed as she thought about it. "Just Thai near my apartment." She vaguely answered. Being in a secret relationship had made her secretive.

"Anyone special?" Morgan pressed, hoping he'd be able to get the confession right there.

Ironically, just as he'd said that Spencer walked through the door, a grin plastered on his face. "Sorry for being the last one here." He apologized, looking at Hotch, who nodded towards the empty seat. Spencer sat down while placing a box on the table. "I brought cupcakes." He announced, opening the box up.

Sneakily, Penelope made a note of the bakery label on the box. Her plan was to use Google Maps once the rest of the team were on the jet to see if it was close to Y/n's place.

While they were taking cupcakes, Spencer handed one to Y/n, not even asking what flavor she wanted. Every member of the team picked up on it.

They didn't have time to think too much about it as Penelope started to brief them on the case, and then they were on the jet to Georgia.

"So, Girlie, you didn't finish explaining how your date went." Morgan reminded her once they were on the jet. He sat next to Spencer, across from Y/n, who was next to JJ.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows, aware he was trying to trick her. "What date?" She feigned innocence.

"Tonight." Morgan prompted.

Y/n shrugged, pretending like she was wrapped up in her case file. "I didn't say I was on a date." She recalled, smirking. The longer she was able to keep her relationship a secret, the cockier she got about not getting caught.

Morgan rolled his eyes. "Mmhm, I'll find out eventually." He promised her confidently. Y/n just rolled her eyes in response.

JJ saw her opportunity to collect her evidence. "Is there anyone you're interested in?" She asked, turning to look at Y/n with a sly smile.

Y/n just shrugged. "Maybe." She figured. "Maybe not." She counted, keeping them in the dark.

She was feeling so confident about it all she snuck a look at Spencer, who was smirking. JJ and Morgan saw it, but a look couldn't prove anything.

When Penelope's name popped up on Morgan's phone, he hurried to the bathroom to answer it.

"Baby girl, I didn't know you'd miss me so much after I'd been gone an hour," Morgan spoke with a smirk, starting their usual flirty banter.

"As much as I do miss you, Chocolate Thunder, I'm calling to team up." She announced to him. Morgan frowned as he tried to figure how that would work. "You're trying to get Y/n's confession, and I'm trying to get Spencer's. I think if we work together, we'll be able to play them against each other." She figured.

Morgan didn't have to think it over. "And then we agree on a place to have dinner together?" He wondered.

"Well, we're going to pick the same place anyway." Penelope reminded him matter-of-factly.

Morgan nodded despite the fact she couldn't see it. "Alright. Let's do it." He declared. They had always worked better together anyway.

"Good, so, the place Reid got those oh-so-delicious cupcakes is right by the closet Thai place to Y/n's place." Penelope quickly rambled, filling Morgan in on the information she'd learned.

Morgan sighed, resting his head against the mirror. "Still, that's circumstantial at best." He reminded her.

"I know, but we can use it as leverage," Penelope informed him before giving him instructions on what to do to ensure they win.

Y/n managed to find a second to talk to Spencer during the 3rd day of their case. For some reason, everyone had made sure they weren't alone. She even swore she heard Hotch's footsteps outside her hotel room at night.

"Okay, is everyone being weird or what?" Y/n asked, making sure she was standing far enough away from Spencer that they would appear to be casually working if anyone walked into the copy room.

"Yes, what is going on?" Spencer questioned in reply.

Apparently, neither of them had a clue what was happening. But they both agreed there was something brewing.

"It's like they're competing in a challenge or something," Y/n commented offhandedly, trying to figure it out in her head.

Spencer nodded slightly, still deep in thought. His face quickly changed, the same way it did when he thought he cracked a case.

"What is it, baby?" Y/n pressed.

"They are literally competing." Spencer realized. "I'm only guessing, but I think they've placed a bet on who can get us to admit we're together." He theorized confidently.

Suddenly, it all made sense. The pointed questions were to catch them out, and they were so different because they'd all bet different things.

Something about Spencer solving cases was so attractive. Y/n stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "So, what are we going to do?" She spoke slowly, licking her lips.

Spencer's eyes widened, concerned about how quickly he was being turned on. And at work, no less. "Make out?" He squeaked out his suggestions, hands moving to her waist.

Y/n leaned up, placing a quick kiss on his lips. Spencer moved to deepen it, desperate. How could he not be? Hotch had seriously interrupted their Saturday plans.

Still, Y/n pulled away just as quickly. "About them." She mentioned, trying to get his focus back on the team plotting against them.

"Oh, uh, r-right." Spencer nervously spoke. Y/n was relishing the effect she still had over him. "Well, I bet none of them thought we would just straight up tell them." He figured, keeping his eyes of Y/n.

She pushed her lips back onto his, savoring the kisses she had been starved of. "You're so hot when you talk theories," Y/n stated bluntly.

"Thanks," Spencer spoke like it was a question, raising his voice at the end of the word. "We should get back out there, though." He reminded her of the team that had hopefully not noticed they were missing.

"We don't have time for a quickie in here?" Y/n reluctantly asked, only because she already knew the answer.

As much as Spencer wanted to nod, he shook his head. "Only when we beat them at their own game," Spencer vowed, bending down to place a kiss on her forehead.

"Alright, fine." Y/n hesitantly agreed, pulling away from him before leaning up to his ear. "Just so you know, I'm thinking about it." She hotly whispered before slipping past him and out the door.

Spencer let out a groan once she'd left, taking a long minute to collect himself before he headed back out to help solve a murder. That's what he was meant to be doing. He had to focus on that.

The case wrapped on the 4th day, the BAU team quickly getting on the jet back to Quantico. They arrived just past 5, perfectly timed to go for a drink.

Dives bars were their bars of choice. Casual, small, neon lights, cheap alcohol, a pool table, and dimly lit. Always a sticky booth at the very back.

"Pretty girl, come help me get another round of shots," Morgan instructed, noticing the nod Penelope had given him.

They had determined Y/n was going to be the easier one to get a confession out of. The way to do that was Morgan's irresistible charm.

Y/n, already assuming Morgan's request had something to do with getting a confession, followed him. She took a seat at the bar, Morgan sitting next to her, turning his seat to face hers instead of ordering drinks.

"You're single, right?" Morgan asked another pointed question. Y/n wanted to laugh out loud at his attempt to catch her out, assuming he thought it would be easier if she was drunk.

Y/n nodded, noticing how Morgan's knee had come to conveniently rested against hers. "Very single."

A smirk graced Morgan's face. "So, what's it going to take for me to get out of the friendzone?" He flirtatiously asked, maintaining eye contact.

"Derek Morgan, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were flirting with me," Y/n suggested, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

Still smirking, Morgan responded. "I'm hoping you don't know any better because I definitely am."

"I'm flattered," Y/n replied, finding the whole situation hilarious but playing into it nonetheless. "Although, I think your flirting should be conserved for your 'baby girl.'" She suggested, dropping her voice deeper to imitate his.

Morgan shook his head. "What she and I have is superficial. We've got serious chemistry, babe." He continued his desperate attempt at flirting.

Y/n shook her head as she giggled. "You really are trying here, aren't you?"

"With my whole heart." He said, winking at her. "Why don't we get out of here?"

Y/n giggled at him, which he clearly took as a good sign from his growing smirk. She leaned in closer. "You know, if any other guy in this bar said that to me, I wouldn't hesitate to pull out my Glock and shoot them." She told him slowly. To anyone who couldn't hear the conversation, it would look like they were flirting.

Morgan gulped as Y/n got off her bar stool. "I can do kinky." He proposed, really working for his confession.

Y/n turned back to look at him, shaking her head. "I'm not sorry about it, but you're not my type." Still, it wasn't evidence. She leaned in to whisper. "Why don't you try your moves on some of those girls?" She suggested, nodding towards the group of girls across the bar who were eyeing him up as they giggled.

Morgan groaned, tilting his head back as Y/n walked away and made a point to sit right next to Spencer. He noticed Penelope disapprovingly shaking her head at him.

Spencer leaned over to whisper in Y/n's ear while Rossi was telling a story. "What was that about?" He quizzed.

"Just Morgan trying to get with me." She whispered back, smirking into her drink about how she'd left Morgan to the group of girls that were now throwing themselves at him.

"Oh, and did you accept?" Spencer questioned, a joking tone in his voice.

Y/n was thankful it wasn't making him jealous. In truth, he was enjoying knowing Y/n was turning down guys like Morgan because of him.

She shook her head. "No, I was hoping to take someone else home tonight." She suggestively replied.

"And who might that be?" Penelope asked, turning the couple's attention from each other and to the silent group of agents who were looking at them. They were completely unaware that Rossi's story ended.

Everyone's eyes flicked between Y/n and Spencer, waiting for an explanation, all wearing the same smirks. The couple had never felt more under the spotlight, both blushing.

The look they gave each other meant they were thinking the same thing. "We're dating." They both announced at the same time, Spencer's hand coming to subtly rest on her thigh.

The positive reaction they had anticipated was clear. Everyone's faces lit up, even Hotch, who was almost smiling.

"So, who won?" Y/n asked after they had all settled down with their cheering.

"Wait, you knew?" Penelope stuttered out in shock.

Spencer scoffed at her. "It wasn't that hard to figure out." He claimed. "None of you are discrete with your pointed questions." Y/n nodded in agreement with him. "What was the prize?" He urged.

The rest of the team looked at each other with confused looks, mainly because they couldn't decide who won. "None of us won." JJ figured, knowing her and Blake were furthest away from winning, having bet they weren't dating.

"Wait, wait, wait," Morgan said, suddenly appearing. "I said I'd be able to get a confession from Y/n, and she just confessed."

Penelope joined in as well. "Yeah, Spencer confessed also, so I guess me and handsome over there both won." She decided, nodding at Morgan.

"Hold on," Hotch spoke, drawing everyone's attention to him. "Neither of you actually got a confession. They confessed under their own free will." He determined, remembering the bet they'd actually made.

Rossi, Blake, JJ, Spencer, and Y/n all nodded in agreement.

"So, we won." Y/n figured, shrugging as she smiled up at her now public boyfriend.

Spencer nodded, turning to the rest of the group to flash a winning smile. "What exactly did we win?"

"To pick where we go for the next team dinner," Blake informed them, acknowledging she'd lost but hoping they'd pick somewhere nice.

Morgan and Garcia both started to protest, in a desperate attempt, to prove their points, while Spencer and Y/n smugly watched. It seemed like every case they made was immediately rebutted by the rest of the group.

"Do we have to make it a team dinner?" Spencer asked them with a cheeky smile.

Morgan and Garcia realized that if they weren't going to win, they might as well fight to get a free dinner.

"No way, we said team dinner." Penelope declared, the rest of the group verbally agreeing.

Knowing the majority had won, Y/n looked at Spencer. "Thai?" She suggested to him.

"Thai and then cupcakes." Spencer prepositioned Hotch, who nodded in recognition of his answer.

Penelope squealed, and Morgan clapped, catching on to what she was thinking. "So you were together!" She declared as she pointed her finger at them accusatorily.

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