#anyways soup is the favorite number one guy in here

[plushie-lovey]

Who’s your favorite plushie? Mine change often but Storm, Luna, and Padfoot are always my favorites

A somewhat difficult question to answer. Some of my favorites change, but most keep the same place in my heart. Soup is of course always my #1!! I also really adore the rest of the Soup Cousins, Pyro aka The Baby, Chubbychu, Binky, Casanova, Autumn, and Gummi Worm.

Some newer/lesser known favorites of mine include: Dameon Devil Bear, Cheddar Biscut the growlithe, Ice Pop the sky blue frog, Bently, Buttons, Echo, Latte the pumpkin kitty, Precious, and Russ the rooster.

But if you were looking for just one plush to be named, my answer is always SOUP

[devildom-moss]

October poll story

Barbatos - Monster kink

(Barbatos x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (top!Barbatos / bottom!MC) (NSFW tags: monster!Barbatos - non-canon/enhanced demonic features including increased greed and lust, claws, sharp teeth, forked tongue that matches his tail, bigger tail, and bigger "tail"; sex involving magic; no specified sex organs for MC; oral - receiving; penetration - receiving; tail penetration; double stuffed by one man - tail and penis penetration simultaneously; technically masturbation; mild bloodplay, mild primal play; begging; multiple orgasms; seriously judging myself at this point CNC - Somno; mild temperature play; implied being used as a human sex toy; no lube - but tail is naturally wet, so mostly no lube; no condom; overstim - receiving; creampie; mentions of very trusting sex)

(other tags: Plot heavy - in the first half, then it basically all erotica, everyone is annoyed with Solomon poor guy kinda?)

Word Count: +4,600 new longest fic for me?

When you heard that Diavolo was going on an overnight trip without Barbatos, you knew you had to go to the castle and get as much alone time as you could with your favorite butler. Considering that Diavolo was also being left in Lucifer’s very capable hands during the trip, you figured Barbatos wouldn’t be in the anxious state that typically overcame him when Lord Diavolo wasn’t under his close watch. So, when you turned up unannounced at the castle that morning only for Little D. no. 2 to answer the door, something seemed off. You tried not to worry, though. Barbatos was probably preoccupied with one of his many tasks.

“Well, if it isn’t Number 2, how are you doing today?” You smiled and patted his head.

“MC! I’m so happy to see you! Are you here to visit Mr. Barbatos? Ooh, I wonder if he’ll come out of his room for you. No one has seen him at all this morning, and when I knocked on his door to check for him, I heard this weird noise before he asked me to leave him alone. Can you believe that? Well, I thought maybe he wasn’t feeling good, so I brought him some tea – now, it wasn’t anywhere near as good as the tea he makes, but when I brought it, he told me that it wasn’t necessary. I left it at the door, but guess what? When I checked back, the tea was cold and untouched. I don’t know what to do, and I didn’t want to call anyone yet because that seems like something Mr. Barbatos would get mad at me for, but since you’re already here, maybe you could check on him and make sure he’s okay.” The monologue recounting this morning’s events spilled from Number 2’s mouth quickly and with no room for interruption.

Without much thought, you had followed Number 2 in the direction of Barbatos’s room – some attempt to physically follow along with his story as your brain processed the information. You let the words absorb into your mind, fishing for a relevant question. It was already past 10AM. Barbatos was always up and about by now. “Did he sound sick?”

“Can’t say. If not sick, he definitely sounded strange – like he was talking with his mouth half-full or something.” Number 2 hummed and tilted his head to the side. “Or, you know how when you bite your tongue or burn it on your soup because it smells too good not to eat it right away – even though Mr. Barbatos warned you to be careful and let it cool?”

“Sure.” You shook your head and stared down the hall. Barbatos’s room was just a few doors down.

“Anyway, I think something is wrong, so I’d really appreciate it if you could look out for Mr. Barbatos. If he really is sick, you’ll take care of him, right?”

“I’d be happy to.”

“Great.” Little D. no. 2 stopped in front of Barbatos’s door and turned around to face you. “I’ll leave it to you. I’m sure the rest of us can find a way to keep the castle running while you tend to Mr. Barbatos, so don’t worry about anything else!”

“Thank you, Number 2. You’re so reliable.” You could tell how worried and eager to help he was. Number 2 nodded and left you outside of Barbatos’s door. You stood there silently for a second, listening for any strange noises or coughs, before gently knocking. “Barbatos, it’s me. Can I come in?”

“MC?” Your name was quiet and muffled.

“Barbatos? I’m going to enter, alright?”

“Wait. I –” he started to protest in an unusually slurred speech, but it was too late. You had already opened the door.

Barbatos’s eyes seemed to glow in the dim light of his bedroom. He had backed himself against the nearest wall. His typically gloved hands were bare, revealing sharp, claw-like nails. One of those hands shot up over his mouth. You heard his tail thump against the wall a few times before he grabbed it with his free hand, stilling its aggravated motions.

“What’s wrong?” you asked him cautiously. He looked different – more demonic than usual.

“Solomon,” Barbatos responded with his hand still over his mouth, only exacerbating his strange enunciation. He was frozen in place.

Of course. You sighed and shut your eyes. What did he do this time? You closed the door behind you and took a few steps into the room. Barbatos eyed you with every move – even as you reached into your pocket to pull out your D.D.D.

“I’ll call him, okay?”

You waited for the phone to ring once before you put it on speaker. Solomon picked up in seconds. “MC, my adorable apprentice, what can I do for you?”

“What the fuck did you do to Barbatos?” you asked him aggressively.

“What do you mean?”

“Something’s wrong with him, and he said it’s your fault.” Technically, that was a bit of a jump considering the facts you had at hand, but it was a logical conclusion.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Let’s see, slightly glowing eyes and the sudden appearance of claws to start. And – if you don’t mind me adding, Barbatos – his tail looks bigger than before.”

“His tail . . .is bigger?”

“Longer. Thicker. Girthier. Do you need more adjectives?”

“Just his tail?”

“For fucks sake. I didn’t strip him down and give him a full body exam.”

Solomon hummed. “Anything else?”

“He sounds weird – like he has a lisp.” You glanced over at Barbatos, whose cheeks had grown pinker since the beginning of the call. He dropped his hand slowly and opened his mouth, revealing sharp teeth and a long, forked tongue that looked like his tail. A shiver shot down your spine, and you let out a shaky breath before adding, “that’s new.”

“What’s new?” Solomon asked, unable to disguise his intrigue.

“Sharp teeth and a forked tongue.”

You heard a breezy laugh on the other end of the line. “So, good news: I figured out what happened. I accidentally swapped the magical tea blend I made for Barbatos with the one I made for Asmodeus. Oops.”

“Oops?” You sighed while Barbatos let out a low, guttural growl.

“Asmo asked me for a tea to enhance some of his more demonic features for a photoshoot. It seems Barbatos got Asmo’s tea, so Asmo – oh, speak of the devil. He’s calling.”

“Add him to our call.” You looked over at Barbatos, wishing you could apologize for Solomon’s behavior silently.

“What gives, Solomon? Your tea was a total flop. I tested it as soon as I got up this morning. I wanted to check out my enhanced demon features before the shoot tomorrow – maybe indulge in them a bit on my own. Nothing has happened. You promised quick results. I’m still my same, gorgeous self, and all your stupid potion did was give me the urge to organize all of my make-up and tidy half of my closet. I was really depending on you to come through for me here.” Asmo complained, clearly annoyed by Solomon’s failure.

“You basically made Adderall tea for Barbatos?” you asked, staring between Barbatos and your phone.

“Barbatos?” Asmo questioned. “Also, hey, MC~! Are you calling to yell at Solomon, too?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” You nodded.

“Can I speak?” Solomon added quickly, coming to his own defense since no one else was going to. “First, Barbatos asked for something to soothe him and enhance productivity so he could make good use of his day without Diavolo. Second, we had a little mix up, Asmo –”

“ – we?” you interrupted.

“Okay, I had a mix up. You have the blend I made for Barbatos. Barbatos took some of yours. MC is with him now.”

“Ooh. Enhanced demon form Barbatos sounds sexy. Does he look sexy, MC?” Asmo cooed.

“Focus, Asmo,” you responded, too embarrassed to admit the truth. Well, the truth other than that Solomon clearly sucked at making magical Adderall.

“Asmo. I have plenty of the magical blend I made for you left over. I’ll bring it by in a bit, alright? Will that resolve everything on your end?” Solomon’s voice sounded sweet, but there was a grave calmness to it.

“Yes.”

“Then hang up and wait for me, please.” Asmo did as Solomon asked, leaving the sorcerer to clean up the rest of his mess. “As for you and Barbatos, MC, I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do to reverse the effects. Depending on how much he drank, it should wear off anywhere within a few minutes to a full day. Until then, I suggest you leave Barbatos alone. All of his demonic senses are heightened – that includes his urges. He may be dangerous to be around until the effects clear up.”

You looked at Barbatos. His glowing eyes were wide and damp, and his gaze hadn’t left you once during the entire call; even when you looked away, you could feel him staring. His knuckles were white from gripping his tail so tightly. He was even trembling slightly. “No. I’m sorry. I can’t do that. He looks miserable like this. I’m not leaving him. It’ll be fine, just trust me.”

“MC.” Solomon wanted to warn you against it again, but there was no use in arguing with you. “Be careful and call me if you need me.”

“Alright, and Solomon? Learn how to label your shit.” You said it sweetly, but he knew you were livid.

“Sorry! Don’t be mad.”

You hung up the phone and returned your attention to Barbatos. He backed away, pressing his shoulders flush against the wall, as you approached him. It was hard to believe that this was a more demonic version of Barbatos. He seemed so timid and scared. Slowly, you reached your hand out to smooth his hair down. His low growl echoed off the walls like there was thunder muffled inside his chest.

Barbatos gulped and opened his mouth to speak, showing you a glimpse of those magic-sharpened teeth and that tongue – now forked and dyed black and aqua. Overcome by a sudden shyness about his new state, Barbatos covered his mouth again to speak. His breath was unsteady, and his words were quiet. “You should go.”

“But you look miserable. Isn’t there something I can do to help?”

Barbatos dropped his hand, and his gaze followed, landing on the floor. “Help? Please don’t tempt me when I’m like this. I’ve been holding back since you walked into that door – since I first caught your scent from down the hall, if I’m honest.”

You inched closer, testing the waters – testing his control before you cupped his cheeks in your hands and searched his face. When you finally caught his gaze, you realized up-close how unusually terrified he was. You’d never seen him like this, and it only made you want to protect him more – to soothe the fear this spell had pulled from him. Barbatos bit his lip, and for a second you worried he might draw blood, but he didn’t.

“Please,” Barbatos begged with a shaky exhale. You rubbed his cheek with your thumb, hoping to ease his mind. “Don’t touch me any further. I’ll only want more. I won’t be able to stop myself.”

Greed. That was his innate sin. You knew that, and it had never been a concern – even when he lost control. There was always a spark of fear – worry on the lighter days – in his eyes when you caused his composure to faulter. It flashed like lightning. Sometimes, you had to wonder if you had seen anything at all or if your eyes – if his eyes – were playing tricks on you.

The love Barbatos offered was a love that said, “I would like to cherish you always. I will treat you sweetly, and if I must be rough, it will be thoughtful and restrained.” He had never pushed your limits – never even toed the line – unless you asked him to. Now, he was warning you that he did not know his own limits. A dark, selfish, possessive need in him threatened to take everything you would offer him and then some. Barbatos was pleading with you to turn him down, to not indulge him. This was your last chance, and you knew it. All his willpower, reduced into one last-ditch effort to dissuade your trust in him – a final, feeble, “please.”

When you brought your lips to his, it was over. Until that potion wore off, he could indulge his greed until he was sick and bursting with sin; until every ounce of it had spilled over into you, you had committed to take it.

Barbatos wasted no time deepening the kiss. His forked tongue slithered into your mouth, wet and oddly cool compared to the heat of his breath. It wasn’t unpleasant; in fact, you felt a slight shame in how erotic you found this strange new sensation. His tongue entwined with yours like it had never done before. Barbatos also found himself aroused by his new abilities – even more so when you moaned for him. Eager to explore further, Barbatos plunged his tongue deeper down your throat until you could barely breathe. You felt seconds – millimeters – away from gagging on him and pressed against his chest, trying to break the kiss.

Barbatos pulled away, allowing your lungs to recover, but the desperation on his face was worse than ever. Panting and ravenous, he spoke in half-growls: “More. I need more.”

His impatience displayed itself in the way he stripped you of your clothes – reckless with buttons and balling the fabric up tightly in his hands. All the restraint he had went towards refraining from tearing your clothes to shreds. He needed access to more of your body, and with every bit of skin he revealed, Barbatos licked, sucked, and bit part of your exposed flesh.

The feeling of his cool tongue gliding up your forearm made you shiver. Barbatos sank his sharp teeth into your shoulder, breaking the skin and sending a tingling pain through your body. He soothed it by running his soft tongue over the bite mark in slow circles before he licked a trail up your neck, paving a path for him to place hickeys along. Time was lost to you between Barbatos sucking your neck and pawing at your naked body. The sensation of his claws gently scraping along your lower back left you arching into him.

When Barbatos was satisfied with his assault on your neck, he dropped to your chest, marking you and teasing your nipples between the prongs of his tongue. For someone who claimed to be unable to control himself, he sure was taking his sweet time building up your pleasure. If he hadn’t dipped between your legs when he did, you might have found yourself reduced to begging for him.

Barbatos took in the sight of how aroused he had gotten you. His breathing was labored, causing his chest and shoulders to heave. He had waited long enough. You felt his tail wrap around your thigh and pull you closer until you were right in front of his face. His warm breath primed your body for that first, slow, tender lick. Followed by another. Then, one more before his tongue was swirling circles around you. He sucked and licked you ravenously, moaning repeatedly into your body. Barbatos’s moaning was peppered with the occasional growl – reminding you, lest the lust caused you to forget, that Barbatos was an untethered beast.

He clawed up your thighs in the same ravenous manner. Claws sank into the flesh of your ass and thighs, scratching you and pulling you back against him whenever you had squirmed too far away for his liking. You couldn’t escape the constant barrage of stimulation and pleasure. Barbatos refused to stop until he pulled an orgasm out of you. Even then, he overstimulated your sensitive skin with a few teasing licks, cleaning up some of the mess he had made of you. Your knees buckled, but Barbatos got to his feet and pulled you close to support you.

You had not even caught your breath nor come down from your high before Barbatos was kissing you again. He slipped his cum-stained tongue back down your throat, ensuring that you tasted yourself. A low growl rumbled deep in Barbatos’s chest that shook you to your core. The storm had not passed. You weren’t even in the eye of it yet.

As Barbatos continued to kiss you, the familiar sensation of his tail wrapping around your thigh caught your attention. This time, instead of pulling you close, he pulled your legs apart. Had he not been holding you tight, you would have stumbled with the sudden jolt. The silky tips of his forked-tendril-like tail teased between your legs in gentle alternating strokes, occasionally lingering to cup you for a few seconds before the pressure slipped away. Barbatos was building you up all over again. You gripped his shoulders, simultaneously trying to ground and support yourself.

Despite the cloud of lust disorienting him, Barbatos recognized the signs of your weakness and dragged you towards his bed. Even as he pulled you across the room, his tail refused to stop teasing you and preparing you for what was to come. Barbatos had no sooner finally stopped kissing you when your back hit his mattress with a soft thud. Staring up at him, you saw a distorted image of the demon you adored. Maybe it was the enhanced demonic features and those glowing green eyes, or maybe it was the look on his face that told you he was not quite the same Barbatos. His hunger for you had never been this strong – perhaps it would never be this primal and ferocious again. Repressing any fear or hesitation, you wanted to revel in his uninhibited lust.

Fortunately, Barbatos’s tail had a natural wetness to it that aided in the insertion. He lacked the clarity and patience to apply lube before the tips of his tail squirmed into your body. Barbatos delighted in the way your face contorted in pleasure – how you bit your lip to hold back a moan. The prongs of his tail felt cool and soft as they stretched you out, applying pressure to the most sensitive places inside of you. You writhed under him, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to touch you more.

Barbatos scratched his claws gently down your ribs and towards your navel. He fucked deeper into you with his tail and applied slight pressure to your pelvis with his palm, stretching his fingers out above your stomach. Those claws loomed threateningly above your skin while his tail pumped in and out of you. You thought his tail had looked bigger than before, but now you could feel just how much thicker he was. However, you only had a few seconds to dwell on the size before the threat of claws came to fruition and dug into your stomach. The outermost layer of skin split for him, and five distinct pink marks appeared on your stomach; he nearly drew blood. You whined at the pain, but the way your back arched and your muscles tightened told Barbatos that you were in more pleasure than pain.

A brief flash of normalcy came when you heard Barbatos chuckle and saw his lips tug into a wicked smile. “Are you cumming again?”

The noises you were making as another wave of intense pleasure overtook you were the only response Barbatos needed. He was kind enough to slow the movements of his tail as you tried to bring yourself down. It wasn’t fair. Barbatos was making you feel incredible. You were supposed to be the one taking care of him, but there you were, stripped and writhing on your back. All the while, Barbatos was still fully clothed – barring the lack of his standard gloves which had already been removed prior to your arrival. You wanted to make him feel good too.

You reached out for his pants, trying to undo them so you could at least touch him, but Barbatos took hold of your hands and stopped you. “Please, let me focus on you for a bit longer. Please?”

There was no sweetness in his begging – only desperation. It was less of a plea and more of a demand. Refusal seemed off the table, even if you chose it, but you couldn’t. You could hardly refuse Barbatos when he said “please” under normal circumstances – and even less so when he stared at you with such wanton desire.

Barbatos entwined his fingers with yours and held your hands while he watched you come apart on his tail. The way you rolled your hips to get him to press the spot that left your mouth agape was so cute. If he had been gifted with more patience and less greed, Barbatos would have relished in the sight of you fucking yourself on his tail and using him – especially in the exhausted, fucked-out state you were in. Did you realize how flushed you were? Could you feel how hot your skin had become? Were you aware that you had scarcely stopped whimpering and moaning for him in the last few minutes?

“You’re taking it so well,” Barbatos cooed. His affectionate gaze held your attention, even as he pulled another intense wave of pleasure from you. Something about the dim glow of his eyes captivated you. “You’re doing such a good job for me, but can you keep it up?”

Barbatos slid his tail half-way out of you as he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed. He was trying to go back down on you, but with no opportunity to recover, you weren’t sure how much more you could take. You tugged his hair and stopped his lips and tongue from overstimulating you, earning a whine from him.

“Barbatos, I need you to fuck me now,” you demanded. You couldn’t take another round without at least making him cum once.

Barbatos savored that desperation in you – even if it was just a fraction of his own. He nuzzled your inner thigh playfully. “Just one more taste?”

“No.” You pulled his hair again and made him look at you. “I need it now.”

“Very well.” Barbatos pulled his tail out of you completely and got to his feet. For a second, the way he spoke was so calm that you believed the tea must have been wearing off. Those shining green eyes stayed fixed on your body as he removed his clothes, tossing them into a dark corner of the room. Perhaps the storm was showing signs of passing.

When Barbatos dropped his pants, you couldn’t keep your eyes off the bulge in his underwear and the damp stain, but he didn’t stay contained for long. He stripped fully, finally releasing his cock. He was so hard, and he dripped precum onto the floor. Your mouth watered. Well, if Solomon asked again, it wasn’t just Barbatos’s tail that was bigger than usual. However, you had already taken his tail; you could take this, too. You wanted it.

Your eyes glanced back up at Barbatos’s face as he aligned himself, rubbing his dick against your entrance. Those glowing eyes caught yours, stalling your breath. Even in the dim lighting, those eyes now seemed to be the darkest thing in the room. A low, satisfied growl escaped Barbatos – the last warning from a predator closing in on his prey. The storm was not over, you had merely found yourself in the eye of it for one brief, relenting moment.

He rocked his hips into you, relying on precum and the combined fluids from you and his tail to lubricate himself as he slowly pushed every inch he could get into you. You gasped. The sensation was so different from his tail – so much warmer, pulsating and throbbing inside of you. That initial slow thrust was for your benefit, but it was not intended to set his pace. Barbatos quickly picked up speed, transitioning into rapid, shallow thrusts that repeatedly rubbed against your walls. Still, he seemed to be focusing on maximizing your pleasure.

“I need more,” Barbatos warned you, but you were drowning in too much pleasure, moaning and panting beneath him, to register his warning.

Instead, you whimpered at the shock of Barbatos slipping his tail inside of you. The forked ends swirled around Barbatos’s cock as he continued fucking you, stimulating you both at the same time. It felt like thick, cool, squirming ridges around a hot, throbbing core. Not even an advanced toy could do this to you. But it wasn’t enough for him. Barbatos reached down between your legs to stimulate you further – somehow lucid enough to take care not to scratch you. His touch was light and gentle, contrasting his other insatiable actions, and making your head spin. It was all too much for you. You came again, tightening around Barbatos as you did. He kept fucking you through it.

A pleased moan escaped Barbatos, signaling that he was close. His hands slid up your body slowly, and then, without warning, he clawed down your sides and grabbed your hips. A stinging sensation immediately followed. He gripped your hips so firmly that his claws broke the skin as he forced himself so deep into you that it almost ached. Barbatos gave you a few more deep thrusts before he bottomed out and held you in place. He pumped his cum into the deepest parts of you, filling you up.

Barbatos lolled his head back with a sigh and a smirk. His chest heaved. It took you squirming against his pelvis for Barbatos to realize that he was still holding your hips up against him. He slid his cock out of you, released his tail’s grip around himself, and gently laid you back down.

You looked so blissful and exhausted, but Barbatos had just gotten started. Simply looking at your flushed face and heaving chest was making him hard again. He caressed your cheek; some of the blood he had drawn from clawing at your hips smeared onto your skin. Barbatos leaned down and licked up the mess. When your cheek was clean once more, Barbatos whispered into your ear, “I’m so sorry, lovely. I’m not done. Do I have your permission to keep going?”

His words floated around your hazy mind. You smiled at him affectionately with your eyes half-lidded and reached up to stroke his cheek. Exhaustion was overcoming you. “Yes. Take whatever you need until you feel better.”

“Even if you fall asleep?” Barbatos asked with some of the timidness from earlier.

“Even if I pass out. Even if it hurts. Even if I cry. Be as greedy as you have to be with me.” Maybe you were cum-drunk. Or maybe you just wanted to make Barbatos feel better. Either way, you resigned yourself to being used for the next few minutes or hours or days.

“Thank you, my love.” Barbatos kissed your cheek sweetly.

You watched the dim glow of his eyes dreamily, focusing on them until the rest of the room began to disappear. With your body spent, all you could do was whimper as you felt Barbatos enter you again. Even the pleasure began to dull as you let yourself slip further into the haze. His deep growls and panting were the last thing you heard as your mind fell silent.

Your last thought before a sweet dream swept over you was that, without a doubt, Barbatos would be a mix of grateful and apologetic when you woke up again.

In the morning, Barbatos would ensure you were hydrated, well-fed, and tended to. He would be an affectionate, doting butler for you. And then, someone would have a hefty price to pay.

A/N: I did not think this was going to end up so long, but please enjoy. I am worried I got a little too carried away here. . . but this was still the less deranged Barbatos monster kink idea. Anyway, requests are open and will be until the end of Nov. 5th. And I hope this one does something for some of you.

[fuctacles]

in love and war finale

Spicy Six Challenge by @thefreakandthehair, part 1 here, part 2 here, you know the drill

T | 2466 | pre-relationship | they are confused gay rookies in the 80s | sick-fic I guess?

“Why aren’t you in bed? Or the couch at least?!’

“He has a point.”

“Like you’re one to talk.”

“Well I’ll let you know I moved the phone and I’m sitting in an armchair wrapped in a blanket.”

“Who are you talking to?!”

Steve is glad for Dustin’s irrational fear of his viruses, because it’s the only thing stopping him from ripping the phone out of his hand, maybe pushing him back to bed too.

“Tell him I said hi.”

“Eddie says hi.”

Dustin starts hyperventilating.

Thankfully his mom came to the rescue with a steaming cup of tomato soup.

“It’s great you boys are keeping your spirits up but you shouldn’t be sitting on the floor, Steven. Maybe we could move an armchair for you?”

And thus with their leave, Steve had a cozy station next to the phone, piled with blankets and pillows. Not dissimilar to Eddie’s on the other end, whom he called as soon as the Henderson’s left.

“So, you were saying?”

“You know this stays between us? This is the most intimate Eddie Munson knowledge that you’re not to share with anyone else.”

Steve laughs. Just hearing him joke was helping his body recover and he feared he'll be ready to go back to work soon.

“Tell me your dirty secrets, Munson.”

“So, this dungeon I’m working on is a cursed tomb of an overthrown mayor…”

Steve likes a good story. Everyone does. He was never that much into fantasy, but the fact that one of his favorite people came up with it made it a thousand times more interesting.

“Ah, I guess it’s my turn for the kid’s visit.” Eddie interrupts himself about fifteen minutes in. “Do you also feel like you’re on a deathbed, visited by your grandchildren in hopes they'll be in the will? He’s getting the dice anyway...”

Steve snorts.

“Now that you mention it…”

“Are you guys still on the phone?!” Dustin’s voice is so loud Steve hears it clear as day on his end.

“Yeah, sorry babe, I’ll call you back.”

The line goes silent. 

And Steve knows he’s joking with the pet names, teasing in the silly way that he does but the more he hears him in his ear, the more he realizes he wants it, wants to try. He hopes Eddie wants it too.

His cold lets off faster than Eddie’s and he’s anxiety-cleaning as soon as he feels the strength to do so. He cleans the pj’s and sheets at boiling temperature so instead of sweat and sickness they smell like ‘provencal dreams’ which he thinks means lavender. The pills and syrups scattered on the coffee table get into the medicine basket. The armchair though, stays by the telephone. He’s waiting for Eddie to wake up and call him (so he can call back not to put the enormous phone bill on him) like he’s been doing for the past two days. Being sick together was almost as bonding as fighting evil. 

When the phone rings he runs to reach it and is almost embarrassed to do so, so he takes a second to breathe before picking up.

“Hello?”

“You don’t have to call me back.”

“Ah, sorry, the reception is shit, I can barely hear you. Let me call you back in a second.” He grins to himself when he hears Eddie’s resigned sigh. He dials the number from the emergency list above his phone immediately. 

“Hi,” he says, smiling like a fool.

“Well, someone sounds chipper today” 

“Yeah, I think I'm good to leave the house, finally. Also, this guy I like keeps me company in my misery.”

“Oh? He sounds like a nice dude.”

“He is,” Steve smiles, sitting down and pulling his legs up onto the seat. “He cares about his friends, saves the world sometimes, and hosts this dorky game for a bunch of nerds on the weekends. A true samaritan.”

“You think so?” Eddie sounds quiet on the other side. 

“Yeah. That's how I see it, at least.” He frowns, fingers twirling the cord anxiously, worried he stepped over a line. That’d suck because he had planned to step over some more today. 

“Thanks. I think you’re a nice guy too.”

It was the simplest compliment he’d ever gotten, but it made something in his chest tighten.

“Yeah?”

“Duh. You jump into demonic waters head first and ferry around a bunch of ungrateful kids.”

Steve snorts.

“That I do.” And then, before the conversation gets even further away from him, he adds, “Hey, listen. Since I’m feeling better, I’ll probably be back at work tomorrow.”

Eddie made a disappointed grunt on the other side.

“So I was wondering if I could visit you today? Maybe take over Dustin’s soup delivery?”

Eddie makes a sound that he’s unable to interpret.

“If you don’t feel up to it, it’s okay-”

“Shut up, I’m thinking.”

So Steve presses his lips together and waits.

Eddie sighs. 

“I’m feeling better, I guess you can visit if you don’t mind a sick person mess.”

“I just cleaned up mine today, no worries.”

“Yeah, okay. But about… the other thing…”

He trails off and Steve is one step away from biting his nails off. Or the phone cord in half. 

“You’re still sick and thinking about it, I-”

“Steve! Let. Me. Speak.”

He makes a noise of agreement into the receiver. 

“Like, I think I need to see you. Because I know you are hot, objectively. But do I think you are hot? Does my dick think you’re hot?”

“Eddie-”

“I’m speaking.”

Steve bites his lips with a smile. He can feel himself blush.

“So I have some things to verify. Come over, Wayne’s not home.”

Steve can’t help it, he bursts into hysteric giggles over Eddie’s attempt at a seductive voice with his clogged nose.

“Hey, now-”

“No, no, I’d love to. Should I bring protection? Like a face mask?” He manages between giggles. 

“Oh, you little-!”

He doesn’t remember the last time he had so much fun flirting. He curbs his amusement to manageable levels and looks at the clock. 

“I’ll call Ms Claudia if she has any special deliveries for us today. I could pick them up and be at yours in an hour, maybe two.”

“Sounds great.”

“Want me to pick up something?”

“I’d kill for a can of coke.”

“Got it. I’ll bring a movie we could watch too.”

Eddie hums his approval.

“Something light that my sick brain can process, please. I’ve had enough fever dreams about war and Russians. Never again letting Wayne pick the movie when I’m sick.”

Steve snorts.

“Okay, noted. See you soon?”

“See you soon, Steve-o.”

Claudia isn’t thrilled by his plan to visit Eddie, but a mother’s disapproval hasn’t stopped him before and certainly wasn’t going to now. He accepts the jars of soup, kisses her on both cheeks, and lets her tuck him up for the short walk from the door to his car. 

The drive is shorter than he expects, even with the partially shoveled roads. He feels completely unprepared for whatever might happen at his destination but he pushes on because the uncertainty might make him sick again. 

A tiny note on the inside of the window tells him the door is unlocked so with little hesitance, he pushes in. He knocks on the door, looking around.

“Eddie?”

“Over here!”

His voice sounds way better in real life than it did over the phone and Steve locks the door and unties his shoes to follow it. Eddie is sitting on his bed, wrapped in at least two blankets, and there are books and notebooks surrounding him. 

“Welcome, welcome!” he grins at him, which lights up his face prettily despite the unmistakable traces of battling the flu. His nose is red and dry from constantly wiping it, his face pale and his lips chapped. There are bags under his bloodshot eyes and the little hair peeking from under a blanket hood looks greasy.

Steve wants to give him a hot bath, wash and condition his hair, and moisturize his whole body, which is a weird thought to have about a romantic interest, even for him.

“Did you bring the goods?”

Steve holds up the plastic bag in his hand, making the jars inside clink. If only Ms. Henderson could see the sparkle in Eddie’s eyes at the sight of her soup, and how he brushes his hands together happily.

“Let’s go to the kitchen, then.”

Steve shakes his head.

“You can stay here, I can do it.”

But Eddie is already up, shaking his curls back at him. 

“And burn our new trailer to the ground? No thanks. The stove is a bitch and only the chosen ones can operate it without injuries. I’ll show you how to work it.”

Steve is listening to him, but he’s also very fixated on the bat pattern of his pajama bottoms and the fluffy green socks he’s wearing. One of the blankets he kept on flows behind like a cape.

“Okay, but I’m doing it,” he insists, following behind and just a tiny bit unmoored by the conversation. He was expecting something less… Normal. More awkwardness, confessions, and hurt feelings. That’s what he’s been preparing for.

“Of course, my shiny knight, of course,” Eddie assures him, reaching for a pot. “Will this be big enough?” he asks, eyeing the jars Steve’s putting on the counter.

“Think so.” He shrugs, eyeing the pot and opening the jars. 

“Okay, come here.” Eddie motions him closer and Steve obliges, standing right next to him and the heat he’s radiating. He smells a bit sweaty, which is understandable, but he can smell the minty toothpaste on his breath, meaning he brushed his teeth before Steve’s arrival. He tried not to think about the implications of it. 

“Okay, so never try to light the right top burner…”

He listens closely to all the instructions and shoos Eddie away as soon as possible to operate the stove under his watchful eye from one of the kitchen chairs. He goes through three matches to get the fire going under the pot but he gets the soup on the burner without much more damage.

“Do I get the Chosen One title yet?” he asks as he idly stirs the soup.

Eddie snorts.

“Don’t get cocky before finishing, dear Steven.”

“Fine,” he huffs. 

The silence settles between them and he doesn’t know where to go from there. But he told himself before coming that he’d wait patiently for Eddie’s answer and simply bask in his presence without pushing. Maybe turn up his charm if it feels right but that’s all. 

“What have you been doing stuck at home?” he asks, the need to break the silence overwhelming. 

Eddie hums, his eyes unfocused on the heating soup.

“Read Hobbit for the eleventy-first time, polished the postponed campaign, and planned for the next one already. Though, with these little bastards, it was probably a waste of my time. Rewatched a couple of movies?” he adds, voice tilting like it’s a question. When Steve hums in interest, he continues. “Paid extra attention to the actors. Turns out, Harrison Ford? Kinda hot.”

Steve snorts, taken aback, and when he turns, Eddie’s grinning at him sheepishly. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I might be into dudes, after all.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.” He smacks his lips obnoxiously and sucks in a breath. “You know, last time I tried to ask someone out, she said she was not interested at all, in anyone, and skipped town.”

Steve whines sympathetically. 

“Shit, man. I’ve never chased a girl out of town.”

“It did numbers on my self-esteem, I’ll tell you that.”

“I promise to stay in town if you ask me out.”

“Would that make me the guy?”

Steve cocked his head and studied Eddie for a while. He never thought about the dynamics of a same-sex relationship. Would he like to be ‘the girl’? Wooed and treated gently, gifted with flowers? Kissed on the neck, and spooned to sleep? He felt his cheeks grow hot at the imagery.

Unfortunately, Eddie noticed and his smile grew.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

Steve shrugs, turning back to the soup.

“Aww, you’d like to be my princess, pampered with gifts and kisses?”

Steve made a point of focusing on his task and hiding his face. 

“So what?” He bristled. “What if I do? Would it be… Is that bad?”

“What? No! Why would it be bad?”

He shrugs. He doesn’t know why but something in his gut keeps telling him it is.

“Why would wanting to be cared for, be bad?”

“Uh, well…” Steve focuses his stinging eyes on the soup. He’ll have to turn it off soon and won’t have any excuses not to look at Eddie.

There’s a shuffle behind him and soon a warm body presses against his back, hugging him from behind. Eddie’s still wrapped in a blanket so they make a slightly awkward bundle against the stove.

“Besides, Princess Stevie sounds waaay better than King Steve,” Eddie presents his final argument and Steve lets out a surprised snort.

“You’re such a fucking weirdo, I swear.”

“Well, it worked on you, sooo…”

“And I still have no idea how,” he sighs dramatically. He squeezes the arms around him gently and turns off the stove before nudging Eddie away so he can pour the soup into bowls. They sit down to eat and when he hands Eddie a spoon he ignores it and slurps the soup straight from the bowl.

“Savage.” Steve rolls his eyes but can’t fight his amusement at his antics. Eddie smacks his lips loudly and grins.

“So, anyway…” He drums his fingers against the bowl. “Do you wanna go out, whenever Wayne gives me the all-clear to leave the house?”

Steve grins, watching the loud man be hesitant for once.

“Are you asking me on a date, Munson?”

His already red nose gets even redder.

“We don’t have to call it a date, we can just hang out, just the two of us.”

“Nah, I’d rather call it a date.”

Eddie inhales and a smile spreads on his face.

“Okay. Let’s do it then. Arcade? I feel like cinema dates are such a cliche.”

“Yeah, but there’s this new movie I’d like to argue with you about.”

“Is it The Fly? Or The Little Shop of Horrors?” Eddie prods with excitement. Because a heated debate on the first date sounds utmost alluring.

Steve extends his leg under the table, nudging softly at Eddie’s ankle. He nudges back with a grin and they rest their legs against each other. A simple touch they can settle on until Eddie gets better, until the date they plan in the cramped kitchen over bowls of soup until the sky turns dark.

[hanlimz]

JUNGWONSPIDERMANAU

cass. pls dont say that and just. LEAVE. expand. i would like to hear your thoughts 🎤

bc truly spider-man/peter parker was my first love and personally i have had the idea for a jake as spider-man au for quiet a bit now but it has never really taken off but now i NEED to hear all your thoughts.

(also if u have any good spider-man au fic recs pls send them my way thnx 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩)

PLSSS I COULD TALK FOREVER!!!! BUT OKAY—here are some bullet points plus a small blurb/summary/idk? i literally am going to write so much im so SORRY??? (this has convinced me n i will be writing a fic LMAOO)

(+ two vvvv good spiderman fic recs!!)

it’s safe here (with me) by @enhypenandpaper !! | very cute story, well-written, i love when writers can put their own unique spin on scenes that inspire them it’s rly motivating and wonderful (i need to rb this on my fic rec blog asap) (jake x reader)

i’ll save you (again) by @jayflrt !! | amazing stupendous wonderful show-stopping ,, literally one of my Favorite reads on this app .. this author manages to encapsulate both spiderman And jake sosososo well .. they also make it a point to rly flesh out the other friendships mentioned and I Love That (jake x reader)

general hcs (?):

won is the dorkiest spiderman ever .. stutters over his quips, never has anything cool to say to the villains he fights, doesn’t know how to respond to ppl thanking him

one time someone he saved tried to ask for his number and he panicked and said he was banned from both t-mobile and verizon (he’s not btw)?? 

another time he just got done saving a group of ppl n said “no thneeds necessary” ?? bc he was trying to say “no need to thank me” n “no thanks necessary” at the same time

but he’s also the sweetest .. any time someone asks to “repay him” he’s a double it n give it to the next person kinda guy .. he always tells them to stop by the soup kitchen or donate old clothes to thrift stores or just be kind to someone else

also ,, on another note ,, won has the Biggest crush on u and knows u like to help out at the local preschool, so he always tells ppl to buy and donate extra school supplies

sometimes when he’s out patrolling late at night, he’ll see u on ur way home from the library n quietly follow u to make sure u get home safe

tries to talk to u once after seeing a spiderman article open on ur computer and u indulge him for a moment, saying how bad u felt abt the daily bugle’s tabloid pieces .. won’s p sure his heart exploded

but overall, he’s very gentle and kind .. ever the king of duality tho .. he can beat a bitch up when need be, but most of the time—won’s just a high school senior trying to get into MIT and make the person he’s been in love with since the beginning of fall semester feel the same way abt him

ANYWAYS in a high school!au setting i see a lot of ppl like to hc jungwon as class/stuco president, but i think he’s definitely more on the quiet side .. he’s popular, yes, but not too popular if that makes sense. for him, though, this is perfect ... he flies under the radar, and him missing school a couple days in a row every month or so goes virtually unnoticed. HOWEVER, you’ve always had a sneaking suspicion .. it’s not like you and won are Rivals—there would be no merit in picking an unnecessary fight with the boy who volunteers at the soup kitchen on the weekends and feeds the stray cats near the gym and asks the lunch ladies how their days are going—but, there’s something strange going on. you’re sure of it.

jungwon comes into school one day w a busted lip and a black eye. everyone is fawning over him, asking him what happened—did he get mugged, did his face hurt, did he give the other person a run for their money? you don’t bother checking in on him when he takes his seat next to you. you just hand him his calculus test (he did better than you again n it’s infuriating) and clench your jaw, willing yourself to disappear. that familiar, green monster hangs in the shadows behind you, and its breath fans across your neck as it attempts to coax a physical manifestation of jealously from your lips. eventually, you excuse yourself to the nurse’s office and skip the rest of the day.

later that night, you’re trying to study in your room, but you keep getting distracted by the daily bugle’s twitter updates. spiderman is out and about again, and they won’t let the poor guy’s good reputation rest. it’s all “spiderman fights villain and knocks over streetlight onto local man’s car” and “spiderman forgoes saving lady’s churro to destroy half of grand central station”—and, honestly, you feel a bit bad. he’s trying his best. but, as rain patters against your window, the sound threatens to lull you to sleep. exhaustion overtakes your body, your eyes are drooping, and your head keeps falling from your hands. and then BOOM—the loudest noise you’ve ever heard startles you from your fatigue-induced trance. with a look of fear in your eyes, you glance over your shoulder to look at the window and the sight that greets you is enough to freeze every molecule in your body.

the aforementioned hero is clinging to the side of your building, banging his fist on the glass and practically begging to be let in. his movements are frantic and a bit scary. you open the window as quick as you can and let him slide through the small gap you’ve created. there are copious tears in his suit, blood flows from a nasty gash on his shoulder. rushing around on some crude form of auto pilot, you grab a clean shirt from your closet and press it into his wound. you tell him to hold it there and instruct him to sit in your desk chair. he's sopping wet from head to toe, and all you manage to think about is how glad you are that your parents are away for the weekend.

eventually, after only almost vomiting once, the cut is clean and bandaged up. "you're so lucky that i've been trying to get rid of this shirt forever, mr. spiderman," you scoff as he perches on the sill of your window, preparing to swing away into the night. "if i had grabbed one of my favorite outfits, i would've killed you before that wound could have."

a giggle escapes from his lips, and for a moment, you find yourself taken aback. he sounds like a high schooler—young, lively, and everything but the twenty-something year old man you thought he would be. "sorry about that ... i'll have to swing by and drop off some laundry detergent one of these days," he laughs. his voice sounds so familiar, but your mind is still reeling from your recent discovery. the hero offers you a wave and gestures toward his previous seat. "sleep well—and, good luck on that calculus homework."

the next day at school, jungwon is nowhere to be seen. you thank whatever happens to reside in the sky that he can't see the bright red 67 at the top of your most recent calculus test. the next next day, however, jungwon comes in with his arm in a sling. as his seatmate, you're the one that has to help him out for the rest of the week. but, when you're sitting in free period, you happen to take another glance at the bandages around his shoulder as jungwon naps next to you. a sharp column of ice pierces through your lower abdomen; under jungwon's sling, the lowest layer of bandages are covered with dried blood and sweat.

they look eerily familiar. almost like the ones you used to patch spiderman up over the weekend.

but, jungwon couldn't be spiderman. he couldn't be—he's too sweet, too gentle, too kind. peeking over at his backpack, you note that it seems a bit bulkier today; a recognizable purple cap winks at you from the unzipped main pocket. a chill tickles the length of your spine as you register what happened to be resting against his class notebooks.

laundry detergent?

you pause for a moment.

oh.

oh god.

[little-tunny]

So glad you found your kitty!! but I would like to take this opportunity to talk about one of my most favorite comments I’ve EVER gotten online... This summer, while driving Soup to the park, we were t-boned by a red light runner, my car was totaled, my legs were crunched, and Soup leapt out of the car on impact and ran far, far, away. I tried to hobble after her but I could barely walk, and I had to return to the crash to talk to the police anyhow. The guy had no license and it wasn’t even his car, but he called his whole family and they all drove to the wreck and berated me, and tried to get the police to arrest me for “trying to run from the scene of the crime,” when I looked for my dog, basically, it was a shitshow. After that was sorted, my mom & friends came and helped me look for Soup. I limped up and down the neighborhood screaming and begging for Soup like a starving little orphan, battered, bruised, and sobbing. And I mean sobbing HARD. I was wailing. (I love my dog)

Hours passed and nothing. I couldn’t walk anymore and had to go home. I decided to start posting online for help. Now I have a popular tiktok account that I exclusively post my pets to, and I know for a fact tiktok’s algorithm prioritizes suffering and videos with faces in it, and since I was crying anyway I took a 10 second video of my sobbing face (my iphone later turned that video into a montage for me to view and titled it Summer Fun) asking for help, and saying that she has a name tag, a seatbelt/leash still on her, and she’s microchipped. And I was right about The Algorithm. Within a day the video had over 3 million views and thousands of comments. Because of all the eyes on the different posts I made, someone spotted Soup stuck in an alleyway, and my friend took me to pick her up. We rushed her to the E-Vet since she couldn’t walk, and after that we were able to relax a bit and heal. But the tiktok views kept rolling in, and along with it so did an immense amount of hate. “Fuck Soup.” “I hope she’s dead.” “I found Soup, text me here” “Are you a dude or what? Ugly bitch.” “Look for dog ❌ Make TiktTok Video ✅” said many. But the most prevalent of all was hundreds, and I mean HUNDREDS of comments telling me I was a fucking moron for not just tracking her microchip on my phone. Now, a microchip isn’t a tracking device, rather it’s more like a barcode that can be scanned by a special scanner vets and shelters have, that will give them a phone number to call. That’s it. But I came to find out this isn’t common knowledge at all, and I think these hundreds of people will be sorely disappointed should their pet go missing. (you can actually buy air tags that do track pets, tho) Along with the onslaught comes the best comment I’ve ever yet received:

The screen name. The shade. The misinformation. MICHAEL’S CHIP?? It’s literally the perfect comment. I would be lying to you if I said I didn’t think about it a couple of times a week, even now. Michael’s Chip healed my trauma. And I’ll always be thankful for that. Even tho my ribs were crushed, I laughed and laughed. Keep it creamy, lips.

why is there a reddit upvote on soup's collar?

theres more to life than reddit. i wish someone had told me that when i was young...

[inventedworld]

THIS ISN’T REALLY ABOUT ANDY WARHOL…OR THE SUPREME COURT

There’s no accounting for taste.

I know you didn’t ask for my opinion, but I’m going to assert it anyway: Andy Warhol is a total sham. I realize his creative expressions presented something that previously hadn’t really existed, but that hardly constitutes artistic brilliance. Instead, I regard Andy Warhol as a cynical opportunist, a sourpuss oddball who’s artistic sensibilities essentially mirrored his own culinary tastes. Here’s a guy whose favorite foods were essentially bread and jam, and sweets and sweets and sweets.

That’s fine. Some people like football; some people like Lawrence Welk; some people like Andy Warhol. Rather than take this space to analyze his artistic relevance, however, there’s something else the mop-topped arriviste provokes.  My distain for the dude has to do with a perception that he was contemptuous of the whole creative enterprise. The fact that he called his operation “The Factory“ is in itself a perfect expression. He pumped out confections for patrons who couldn’t tell the difference, for people who thought he was somehow hip by presenting Campbell soup cans. 

Do 50 replications of a solarized publicity photograph of Marilyn Monroe — or an ordinary soup can —constitute art? Many culture critics and art historians think it does. I say, “Au contraire!” The original Marilyn image appearing in his…I suppose the word is “artwork”… isn’t even his own photograph! Certainly it’s fair to employ “fair use” and appropriate other creative works into one’s own—think of movies using familiar songs in their soundtracks to evoke precise feelings—but in this case, the image itself is the work, and the work isn’t really his. What rubs me wrong is the inherent cynicism underpinning the creative enterprise. I don’t mind angry art, I don’t mind sad art, I don’t mind disturbed art, or erotic art, or challenging pieces that ask me to pause and think. I don’t even mind “bad” art that I might choose to ignore. What bothers me are so-called artistic assertions that knowingly, consciously, conspicuously waste my time by pretending to be something more vital than they really are.

It’s worth noting here that The United States Supreme Court is about to offer an opinion relating to this subject basically any minute. A ruling is due in the case Warhol v. Goldsmith in the late spring of 2023. (SUPCO docket number 21-869.) In an ironic twist, the case itself describes the essential bones of what irks me about Warhol and those who emulate and celebrate him. At issue is whether the Warhol Foundation had a right to use a modified image of Prince captured by photographer Lynn Goldsmith beyond what she asserts was the term of an original license agreement. In many ways, the case provokes questions about what constitutes fair use of an image that’s already passed into public consciousness. Does an already published photo of a celebrity musician mean it’s fair game for anyone to adapt? Does that adaptation make it art? Does the original creator have a permanent influence on the original creation? No matter how this case resolves, it will have enormous influence on the creative firmament. 

I don’t care about Andy Warhol, actually. This isn’t really about him or his soup cans or the pablum he pumped for the proletariat. It’s the proletariat penchant for sardonic irrelevance that has me exorcised. 

Paraphrasing a classic, life moves quickly. When you wake up and you’re suddenly not as young as you used to be, you come to realize you’re on a train without any brakes. And guess what? The bridge is out, and we’re all heading straight for the ravine. What are you gonna do now? 

That’s why I have limited patience for cynicism or triviality. Humor? Sure. I love to laugh, and good humor offers vital cultural circuit breakers. Whimsey and lightness? Show me something clever —not the same thing as humor, by the way— and I’m usually a happy man. But cynicism leaves me cold. Endless irony, the contemporary voice of the meme generation, eschews substance in favor of dismissive reductionism. Irony alone as a common theme erodes substance by investing energy and effort into the very act of trivializing something else. It neither spins new thread, nor weaves new tapestries from existing bolts. 

To me that’s just like Warhol replicating photos of soup cans and calling it art.

@michaelstarobin

facebook.com/1auglobalmedia

[moon-light-jukebox]

Germs [Reid x Reader]

this gif isn’t mine

Summary: Reader is sure the resident BAU genius doesn’t like her, but she’s not sure why. But even if he did like her, he’s a germaphobe, so he wouldn’t be comfortable with the things she wants to do to him...would he?

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Rating: Mature 

Category: Fluff and Smut 

Content Warning: Brief mentions of torture and violence, usually criminal minds stuff, nothing explicit. Light choking, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, language (maybe?) 

A/n: I have come out of fan fiction writing retirement for this one. Let me know what y’all think!  masterlist

y/n - your name

y/l/n - your last name

italicized text is Reader’s sassy inner thoughts

---

I’m not sure if I believe in hell, but if there is a hell, I’m sure it feels exactly like Louisiana in July. Every time I walked outside I felt like I was walking into soup. Gross. I couldn’t help but feel guilty over my sigh of relief when I walked back into the local precinct the team was currently working out of. Young women are dying, and I’m worried about a little bit of heat.

But, fuck, it was hot.

Speaking of heat, I thought as I threw open the door to the conference room only to run smack into the hottest thing I’d ever encountered.

“Shit,” I exclaimed before I thought better of it. “I’m so sorry.” I ran my eyes up, up, up, all the way up his body until I met his eyes; those beautiful honey brown eyes that threatened to have me acting like an idiot if I stared into them for too long.  

Dr. Spencer Reid’s cheeks were tinged pink, his posture stiff, his fingers clutching the file he was carrying for dear life. “Don’t worry about it, Y/n,” he sounded uncomfortable, which made my stomach drop. “My fault.” With that, he quickly maneuvered around me and headed off to complete whatever genius task he had to complete.

My eyes followed him until he was out of sight before I mentally shook myself. ‘C’mon, this is pointless,’ I thought. ‘He doesn’t even like you.’ Which I really thought was true, the good doctor went out of his way to avoid me whenever possible. ‘Plus, he’s a germaphobe.’ This thought was confirmed true. He didn’t shake people’s hands, the only people I’d seen him touch during my time at the BAU were members of the team that he’d known for years, and some of those even seemed reluctant.

Admittedly, I didn’t know a lot about germaphobia; since I couldn’t ask the only genius I knew, I did the next logical thing. I googled it. Every person I’d read about seemed to experience germaphobia differently. Some people could have sex, but others were grossed out by the very idea. Knowing my luck, Spencer Reid and his beautiful hands, and his soulful eyes, and his cheekbones that could cut glass was in the repulsed by sex category. Which is fine! Right, it is fine to not be interested in sex; the only problem was I was very interested in every part of him.  

Maybe he thinks I’m gross. Maybe I stink? Maybe he’s just repulsed by my very presence. Regardless, I couldn’t see Spencer Reid ever shoving me against a wall and fucking me senseless.

I sighed, making my way over to the conference table, pulling out a chair before I flopped into it. I could feel the exhaustion settling into my bones. We had been in Louisiana for almost a week now and we were still no closer to finding our unsub. He was a white man, he worked in a lower-paying job, and he hated women. Obviously, that didn’t narrow it down much.

The unsub was targeting women in clubs and bars, following them outside before he bashed them on the back of the head. After that, he threw the girls over his shoulder and took them to his car; he moved them to a secondary location before he tortured them. The first two victims had survived. They were traumatized, but they were fighters; they both said the same things, ‘he kept my eyes covered the entire time,’ “I never saw his face,’ ‘I did whatever he told me to do.’

We thought the killing of the third victim had been an accident, but that accident had excited our guy enough that he changed his ritual; the killing was crucial now. We had 4 bodies, 2 live victims that couldn’t tell us anything, and no leads.

Sighing, I leaned forward, bringing the heels of my hands to my eyes. I hated feeling helpless. The answer to who this fucker was is in this evidence somewhere and I will find it. If it’s the last thing I do.

The doors swung open again, pulling me from my thoughts. Hotch lead the parade of people, followed by Morgan, JJ, and Dr. Reid. Our unit chef looked gravely serious…not that that necessarily meant anything, in the 6 months I’d been with the behavioral analysis unit I hadn’t seen him have any other expression.

Morgan pulled out his phone, hitting what I suspected was speed dial number 1. “Hey baby girl,” he said, without his usual swagger; even he was tired. “You’re on speaker. You’ve got me, Hotch, JJ, Reid, and Y/l/n.”

“And I have the always wonderful Emily Prentiss, and the dashing David Rossi on the line, effectively putting my favorite people together again, as they should be,” Garcia quipped. I don’t think she meant to include me in her list of ‘favorite people,’ but it made me smile anyway. “Okay, crime fighters, what’s the play?”

“We’re still no closer to finding the unsub,” Hotch began. “He’s highly organized, methodical, and paranoid; but he hasn’t killed in 3 days, this is a break from his escalation pattern. He’s going to strike soon.” Hotch leaned over resting his palms on the shiny fake wood of the conference table. “Our best chance is to send an agent out there as bait.” There was a general murmur of agreement before he continued on. “Garcia, we need you to find all of the night clubs, bars, and whatever else you can think of in the updated comfort zone.”

The sound of keys clicking made its way through the speaker. “Assuming we’re excluding the places he’s already hit, that leaves us with 3 possibilities.”

“So far he hasn’t struck a place twice,” Prentiss chimed in. “Do we think he’s going to hold to that pattern?”

Reid moved over to the board where the map of the county was displayed. “I think so. This guy is too careful to risk going to a place where he’s been before. The chance of him being recognized is too great, especially when everyone is on high alert.” He gestured to the area he had circled on the map. “His pattern seems to be focusing in on this center point right here,” he said, placing a pin in the map. “This area means something. Garcia, what is the closest club or bar to the intersection of Washington Avenue and Harrison Street?”

“That would beeeeee…The Blue Fox.”

“That’s where he’ll be,” Dr. Reid said confidently, his eyes moving to Hotch’s face.

The older man nodded. “It’s our best lead so far, we have to run with it.”

“It’s Friday night,” Rossi pointed out. “We’ll have to act soon.”

Hotch nodded, seeming to be lost in thought. “We need to send agents in there tonight. We know the victims were all on dates or flirting with a man right before their abduction. He targets women that are happy with their companions then waits til he can separate them.”

“Who are you planning on sending in, Hotch?’ JJ questioned.

“Y/l/n is the youngest, she fits the build of the previous victims the best.” His heavy gaze rested on me. “What do you think?”

Like it was even a choice. “I’m in.”

Hotch nodded, accepting my answer. “Good. You’ll partner with Reid.”

“What?!” I squawked, much to my embarrassment. I cleared my throat before I continued. “But, Reid and I…I just thought Morgan would be the obvious choice.” Fuck, I’m just digging a bigger hole.

Morgan gave me an easy smile. “You’re just saying that because you wanna see my moves, little mama.”

Hotch cleared his throat, bringing our attention back. “Morgan is too intimidating; the unsub might not move in if he feels too threatened. You’ll go with Reid.” When he was met with silence he continued on, “alright, let’s get to work.”

-

And that is how I wound up in a club in Louisiana on a Friday night, in a tight black dress, with Spencer Reid beside me. After he walked into the club holding my hand. He doesn’t hold hands, I cringed internally at the thought. He must feel so uncomfortable.

He waved the bartender over, ordering a drink for me and a water for himself before turning to me. “I thought a drink would loosen you up a bit. You look nervous.”

I am nervous. “Right. Thanks.” I drummed my fingers on the bar, my gaze sweeping around the club for anyone who seemed out of place and especially creepy. Most lone men at clubs and bars were creepy, but we need especially creepy.

“Is that because you don’t think I can have your back?”

My head snapped back around. “What?”

Spencer paused to accept the drinks from the bartender, sliding him the money. “In the conference room. You seemed upset that Morgan wasn’t going to be your partner,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Is that because you think I wouldn’t have your back?”

Fuck. I blushed to the roots of my hair. “No, Spencer! God no! It’s not that, I know you’d have my back.” I took a sip of my drink before I said anything else. “It’s just that…you don’t seem to like me very much, and I know you have a thing about germs, and I thought maybe that’s why you didn’t like me.” I was babbling; I was absolutely babbling. “I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, that’s all. Morgan has never seemed uncomfortable around me, so…” I trailed off lamely.

The corners of his lips quirked up in amusement. “So, you didn’t want to partner with me on this because you didn’t want me to be uncomfortable?”

I nodded, fidgeting with the straw in my drink.

Spencer moved closer to me, his right hand coming to rest on the small of my back. He seemed as calm as he could be, meanwhile I suddenly had trouble breathing.

It’s for the case. He has to do this for the case. Calm down.

"What do my issues with germs have to do with this?" he wondered, leaning closer to me. I could feel his breath on my neck; my skin broke out in goosebumps.

Double fuck. “Well, we’re supposed to be…together. And you think I’m gross. What if you have to kiss me?” TRIPLE FUCK. “Not that we’d have to kiss,” I tried to backpedal. “But we might, you never know. And I just didn’t…I don’t want you to dislike me more than you do.”

The teasing smile slipped from his face, the fingers on my lower back flexing slightly. He regarded me with a tilt of his head. "You're serious?" At my shaky nod, he continued. "Y/n, I don't think you're gross."

“You don’t?” I squeaked.

He lifted his hand from my back then, sliding it up to my shoulder, his free hand moving from the bar to rest on my hip. Spencer brushed my hair back before he leaned forward. Slowly, slowly, slowly, I felt his lips touch the tender skin of my neck. My eyes fluttered shut, unable to suppress a gasp at the contact. Spencer Reid’s beautiful lips slid down to the place where my neck and shoulder met, then I felt his teeth nip the skin before he placed another kiss there. He worked his way back up towards my ear, the hand on my hip moving slightly so he was almost grabbing my ass. “I don’t think you’re gross,” he breathed, causing me to shudder. I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Germs don’t bother me in that way, especially around people I know. I wouldn’t have a problem kissing you, baby.”

I was going to need new panties after this. Spencer Reid, awkward, sweet, Dr. Spencer Reid just called me Baby.

“…Oh.” Really, y/n. Oh; you went with oh?

The good doctor pulled back, his face close enough to mine that I could see that he had freckles under his eyes and that those beautiful eyes got more golden towards the center. "Oh."

-

Michael Watkins was the name of our unsub. He was a short white man with a receding hairline and a bad temper. His last relationship had ended 3 months before the first attack; Spencer was right to pick this bar. Shortly after he tried to make my pussy combust with his neck kisses, Reid suggested I walk to the bathroom, assuring me he’d be watching if anyone followed.

Watkins’ hand was in my hair, dragging me outside before I made it to the ladies’ room. I felt a jolt of fear as I struggled to escape, strands of hair being ripped from my head. I shouldn’t have worried, because no sooner had the outside door opened than I heard the velvety voice of Derek Morgan. “FBI! Put your hands where we can see them.”

He attempted to run. Why would anyone try to run from Derek Morgan?  

After the medics confirmed I was okay, I was sent back to the hotel while the rest of the team went with the local police to book Watkins and try to get a full confession.

“Good work,” Hotch said, his hand clapping down on my shoulder.

The highest praise I’ll ever need.

I hopped into the shower right when I got back to my room, not wanting Watkins’ touch on me for a moment longer.

Spencer’s touch, however,…That was a touch I wouldn’t mind having on me. But he’d barely looked at me once he made it outside. I knew he was being affectionate in there because of the case, we were playing a role. I knew that. I still couldn’t stop the twinge of hurt I felt.

But he doesn’t think I’m gross. That had to count for something.

I had just got done blow drying my hair enough so that it wouldn’t look too crazy when I woke up when there was a knock on my door. Figuring it was Emily, I didn't consider the fact that I was in my pajamas, and my face was scrubbed free of makeup.  

It wasn’t Emily. Spencer Reid stood on the other side of my door, his eyes running down my body before he met my bewildered stare again. “You look comfy,” he commented with that damn little smile on his lips again.

“Oh. Yeah. I took a shower.” Way to go, y/n, you’re really killing it tonight.

“I see that,” he said, his cheeks going a little bit pink. “Can I come in? I thought we should talk.” Was he nervous? Why would he be nervous?

I ushered him in, shutting the door behind him. He sat on the bottom edge of my bed; his body angled towards the headboard. I briefly debated about where to sit before I joined him. Don’t make it weird, y/n.

He cleared his throat before he began. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable tonight. I just wanted to make sure we got the guy.”

Right. “Oh, it’s okay, Spencer. I get it. I wasn’t uncomfortable.” I picked at the frayed edge of my sleep shorts, my eyes dropping so he didn’t see anything on my face that betrayed how I was feeling; you can’t be too careful around profilers.

His hand reached out to cover my own fidgeting hands, one of his hands covering both of mine. His hands were so big. His fingers were so long, the veins in his hands were so pronounced. I bet those fingers would feel really – FOCUS.

“I’m also sorry you thought I didn’t like you.” His thumb had started to move slowly over the back of my hand. “I do like you. I like you a lot, actually. I just…” I brought my gaze back up to meet his eyes. “I just get nervous sometimes.”

“You didn’t seem nervous in the club.”

“No,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t nervous then because it was my job. I wasn’t worried about misreading a signal…doing the wrong thing…I’m not the best with social cues.” I had noticed that about him before. “But I am a really good profiler.” And he’s humble too, apparently.

“I know that you couldn’t fake your reaction to me in the club. Your breathing became quicker, I felt your pulse jump under my lips when they were on your neck. I saw how blown your pupils got." He shifted closer to me then, bringing his other hand up to push my hair behind my shoulder like he did earlier in the night. "Just like they are now."

He leaned closer to me, his voice was lower, and it made my stomach flutter. "You're clenching your thighs together, Y/n. Your shirt may be baggy, but I can see how hard your nipples are too." His tongue ran out to wet his lips. "If I'm wrong, just tell me now. If I've misread this, I will leave right now, and we can pretend this never happened." Spencer brought both his hands up to cradle my face; despite how wet my panties were, how tight my nipples are, how badly I wanted him to touch me, this gesture made me feel special. He was holding me like he actually cared about me like I was precious. "But, if I'm not wrong, and you want this too, Y/n, tell me. Tell me you want this too and I won't stop touching you until you scream my name."

I let out a soft whimper then. Like it’s a choice. “I want this,” I leaned into his touch. “Please, Spencer.”

His thumb brushed over my cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. “Please, what, baby?”

“Kiss me.”

No sooner had the words left my mouth than his lips were on mine. His lips were softer than I imagined, they were firm and almost…questioning. When I nipped at his bottom lip, something seemed to break free inside of him. His lips slanted over mine with a hunger I had never felt. His tongue ran over my bottom lip before I opened for him. Spencer’s tongue moved into my mouth while his hands moved; one hand moved back to grip my hair at the base of my skull, tugging firmly, the other moved down to my neck, not applying any pressure, just resting it there in a gesture that felt possessive.

The need for oxygen broke us apart, his lips moving across my cheek to my jaw, then down to my neck. “How could you think I didn’t like you?” he mumbled into my skin. “You have no idea what you do to me. None.”

I threw my head back when he sucked on my pulse point, a moan ripping from my throat. “W-what…what do I do?”

Pulling back from me, he gripped the bottom of my shirt, looking at me for consent before he pulled it over my head. His eyes were firmly on my chest, his lips parted, his breathing heavy. He pushed me down slowly on the bed; I was on my back and he was hovering over me. I felt his mouth place hot, wet, kisses from my collarbone down towards my breasts. His right hand landed on my breast, his thumb brushing back and forth over my nipple while his lips moved closer and closer to my left. I tangled my hands in his hair, urging him forward.

“You want to know what you do to me?” he raised his head slightly, making sure my eyes were on him when he flicked his tongue over my nipple, causing me to gasp. “What do you do to me in your little skirts, with your little smiles, and your little laughs?” He gave my nipple a sharp pinch. “You’re all I fucking think about, y/n.” With a growl, he finally took my nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his teeth and tongue. He switched to the other breast while he adjusted himself over me, bringing his pelvis down to rest at the seam of my body between my thighs. I shifted restlessly under him, trying to grind my pussy against him. He was so fucking hard.

With a groan, he lifted his head and started kissing his way towards the middle of my chest, moving down to the curve of my stomach. “Do you know how many times I came back to my hotel room after spending all day with you and was so hard I had to cum before I could think of anything else?” he peppered kisses down my body as he spoke.

My eyes shot open at this confession that he seemed to think was no big deal. “What?” I couldn’t believe this. “You…you touched yourself and thought of…”

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and panties, taking my raised hips as an invitation to remove both from my body. "You. I thought of you." He threw my clothes on the floor, pulling my legs open. His eyes moved over all of me, his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed hard. “I thought about kissing you. About making you squirm for me.” He ran his fingers up and down my thighs, his mouth running slowly over my inner thighs. Spencer’s hands hooked around my upper thighs, moving me to where he wanted me. “But, most of all, I thought about this pretty pussy.” He placed a kiss on my clit, chuckling at the wanton moan that came from me and how my fingers tangled in his soft brown curls. “I thought about all the different ways I could make this pretty pussy cum all over me.” With that, he ran his tongue up my slit before flicking it over my clit.

Dr. Spencer Reid was good at everything, so of course, he was good at this too. His mouth moved over me, watching my reaction to see what I liked best. His tongue moved in circles around my clit before slipping down to my opening. His tongue plunged inside me, fucking me, while his thumb came over to rub my clit.

“Spence- fuck- Spencer, please.” My hips tried to shift restlessly, but his arms were iron bars holding me still. He slowly moved his left forearm to rest across my hips, bringing his right hand down to my throbbing pussy. He pulled his mouth away from me, much to my dismay. He pushed one finger, then another into me. My head thrashed wildly, and my thighs started to shake. “Spencer!”

He just smirked and curled his fingers, hitting the spot inside me that made everything in my body pulse. “What, baby?”

My breaths were coming in gasps, my voice was a needy whimper. “Make me cum, Spencer. Please, please make me cum.”

He needed no other encouragement. His fingers continued their steady thrust in and out of me while his mouth covered my clit again. He alternated between flicking my clit with his tongue, then circling it before pulling it into his mouth, sucking lightly.

“Spencer.” I felt my orgasm rising. “Spencer don’t- don’t stop. I’m gonna cum, please make me cum.”

He kept his pace steady, sucking on my clit, moaning at my words. His eyes had been closed, but at that moment they opened and met mine. Then I felt his teeth ghost over my clit, I saw the want in his eyes. That was my undoing. My back arched, my mouth hung open in a silent scream. I heard myself say his name over and over again. Spencer pushed his fingers inside me, massaging me through the most powerful orgasm I had ever had. With one final kiss on my oversensitive clit, he withdrew his fingers, putting them into his mouth to suck my orgasm off of them.

He kissed back up my body, and I tried to respond, but I was still so shattered. I had never felt anything so powerful before. He cupped my face in one hand and kissed me slowly. I returned the kiss, moving my hands to the buttons of his shirt.

Spencer broke the kiss, pulling back to look at me again. “Hang on, baby.” His hand came up to still my own. “We can take a second. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

This beautiful man smiled at me then. I felt my heart flutter when he leaned down to pepper soft kisses along my jaw, his thumb coming up to wipe a tear that fell from the corner of my eye that I hadn’t even noticed.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that. He shifted to lay beside me, whispering reassurances to me while I came back down. This was just one of the ways that Spencer was so different from every other man. I didn't feel rushed, or pressured. I could feel how hard he still was, I could feel the tension in his body, but he simply kissed me while he cupped my jaw.

He made me feel…cherished.

I moved my hands to tangle in his hair again, deepening our kiss. He didn’t move my hands away when I started to work on the buttons of his shirt. The fire that I thought had been calmed by my orgasm had come roaring back. Spencer moved his hands to his belt while I finished with his shirt. His shirt came off, tossed in the same direction as my clothes. I pulled his pants and boxers down his legs, watching his cock spring free.

Everything about him was painfully beautiful. His angular cheekbones, the jaw that looked like it was carved from granite, even the toned muscles of his body. He had a small trail of hair that went down from his belly button to his groin. His cock laid against his stomach, the head glistening with precum.

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, kneeling beside him, running my eyes over his body.

His soft hand came to grab mine, pulling it to his lips. He kissed the back of my hand, smiling softly at me.

I moved to straddle him, lower on his thighs. I took him in my hand, moving up and down, twisting my wrist as I neared the tip, swiping my thumb over his head.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Y/n, as much as I want you to do…whatever the fuck you want with me, I’m so close. I feel like I’m going to explode.” I bit into my bottom lip, unable to totally stop the smile spreading over my face. “Please, I need to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock.” He moved his hands to my hips, urging my body forward.

I raised up on my knees, taking him in my hand again, lining him up with my entrance. The tendons in his neck were strained, his fingers gripped my hips so hard I knew I was going to have bruises tomorrow. As I slowly started to sink down on his cock, Spencer let out the sexiest groan I had ever heard. His eyes were fixed where our bodies were joined, watching his dick slid deeper inside of me.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered. “You’re doing so good. Just a little bit more.”

He was so long, he wasn't overly thick, but just thick enough to cause a pleasurable stretching when he breached me that was almost painful. I gasped out a sound that might have been his name when he bottomed out inside me. I slowly circled my hips, adjusting to him. Spencer’s nails dug into my hips as he forced himself to stay still.

“Please move, y/n. Please. You’re so fucking tight.” He groaned as my walls fluttered around him. “Do you like it when I talk to you? Does that make your pretty pussy wetter?” He smirked at my whimper as I tightened around him.

I began at a slower pace, trying to tease him. Spencer quickly lost patience with that; he thrust his hips upwards, meeting my movements, his hands pushing me down onto him. I leaned forward, bracing on hand on his shoulder, the other on the bed. He pounded into me while I tried to match his pace. Spencer’s hand moved from my hip up to wrap around my throat. I nodded, forcing my eyes to stay open as he moved inside me.

His fingers squeezed slightly, pulling my face closer to his. Our lips met in a sloppy kiss. My thighs burned from matching his movements. “You feel so fucking good, y/n.” His grip on my neck tightened ever so slightly, which only heightened my arousal. “I want to feel you cum on my cock. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”

He flipped us over quickly, never pulling completely out of me. Spencer moved to push my legs further apart, the change in angle allowing him to fill me deeper than I thought possible. His hair was sticking to his brow, his cheeks were flushed, his breathing erratic. He was the most fucking beautiful thing I had ever seen.

One hand held my leg, the other went down to my pussy, his thumb moving over my clit at a rapid pace. “Tell me what you need, Pretty Girl. Tell me how to make this pretty pussy cum all over me.”

I whined at his words. “Spencer, I-“ my voice broke off. I was so fucking close. "I need you." He seemed to understand my broken plea. He brought his body down, his chest flush against mine. He rocked into me at such a fast and hard pace. His hand still in between us rubbing circles around my clit.  

I felt his lips ghost over my ear. “I want to fucking hear you, y/n.” His speed increased, his thrust getting choppier. He was close. “I want this whole fucking town to hear what you sound like when I make you cum. When you cream all over my dick, I want you to scream my name.” With that, he moved his mouth down my neck. He bit the same tender area he had kissed in the club, where my neck met my shoulder.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck yes, Spencer!" I felt myself begin to splinter apart. “Please make me cum, fuck please.” My babbling finally broke as my orgasm tore through me. I couldn’t hear his deep groan when I came, my scream was too loud. I felt the vibration against my neck. It was only as I started to float down that I realized my nails were dug into his back. With a few last thrust and my name on his lips, I felt Spencer pulse, cumming inside me.

We lay there for a few minutes, just breathing before he rolled off of me. I felt overwhelmed, so I was relieved when he tugged me over to him. He wrapped his arm around me when I laid my head on his chest. I felt his lips on my forehead. “It’s very important for women to urinate after sexual intercourse to avoid UTIs, but you have another minute or so before that becomes more urgent.”

I couldn’t control my laugh at his comment. "Thanks, Doc." I kissed his chest. "Only you could make me cum so hard I almost blackout, then go back to being…you." I slowly untangled myself from him, going to the bathroom to handle business. When I returned, I found Spencer where I left him, his eyes were fixed on the ceiling, one hand resting behind his head, the other over his heart. He looked so lost in that moment.

“Spencer?” I asked, crawling on to the bed. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t pretend that something wasn’t bothering him. “When you said that I just go back to being me…Do you not like that?”

My heart broke a tiny bit at the question. “Spencer, no! I love that! I love your little facts and statistics!” How did he not know that? “The best part of my day is listening to you talk. Just being with you is wonderful.” I cupped his face, bringing his gaze to mine. “Sure, I like what we just did; but I liked you before that. I want both.” Fuck. “Assuming you want me,” I rambled quickly. “This doesn’t have to mean anything, I know that it doesn’t always-“

He cut me off by pressing his lips to mine in the sweetest kiss I had ever felt. It was filled with hope and promise and…Spencer.

“It means everything to me, Y/n.”

-

I didn’t see the rest of the team until the next morning when we all boarded the jet; I was so ready to go home. I personally didn’t think anything appeared that different. Spencer sat beside me on the couch, but that wasn’t weird…right? We were just co-workers, sitting beside each other super casually. Had we spent most of last night and a little bit of this morning screwing each other’s brains out? Certainly. But you couldn’t see that…right?

Morgan’s chuckle is what confirmed I was so wrong. “Hey, y/l/n,” he called, smiling so hard it looked like his face would split from his amusement. “You missed a spot.” He pointed towards his own neck.

There was a beat of silence before Hotch snorted. SSA Aaron Hotchner, the man who never found anything funny was laughing at me.

I felt myself turn tomato red, angling my body towards Spencer’s, burying my head against his shoulder, away from the rest of the team.

“I bet you’re glad pretty boy was your partner now, huh?”

I may have wanted to melt into the floor in embarrassment, but it was sort of worth it to see the blush on Spencer’s cheeks.

--

[one-sad-human]

•Worth It• Duff Mckagan

Pairing: Velvet Revolver era! Duff Mckagan x Younger! Reader

Requested? Nope!

Theme: Little bit of everything/???

Warnings: Language, panic attacks, anxiety references, drug references

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Fic 2 of 2! This is the longest fic yet! Took a different approach to writing this one, hopefully it payed off. Let me know if you guys liked it or if I wasted my time with this one lol.

     You had met Duff in a coffee shop in LA. It was crowded and you were lucky enough to snag a chair before the lunch rush. Duff wasn't, and asked you if he could sit at your table.

     You grew up with Guns n Roses, bought his solo album the day it came out when you were just 15, and now listened to Velvet Revolver faithfully. To see your idol, your celebrity crush stand right in front of you holding a cup of coffee and a scone sent you for a loop.

     "Of course," you had said, starry eyed. You were only hoping he was as kind as the interviews made him out to be. Maybe have a conversation with you and be polite for a while before leaving and never seeing each you again. That would be good enough.

     It didn't end with a coffee, it had just begun. He asked for your number, and you stared at him for a moment thinking you had imagined it. That was until he tilted his head a little and looked at you with a nervous expression. He backtracked and you immediately stopped him.

     "No! I mean— yes! Yes, you can absolutely have my number." You scrambled for a pen and paper and ended up scratching your number on a receipt from the record store. You shook so hard you could barely get the numbers down.

     Out of all the record store receipts you've stuffed into your bag, the one you gave Duff Mckagan had to be the one for when you bought Velvet Revolver's 'Contraband.' He didn't say anything, just smiled and promised to call.

     You honestly didn't think he would've. You played it off as just him trying to be nice. It didn't stop you from answering every call you got for the next three days, however, even if you recognized the number as the tax collector you'd normally never answer.

     But then he called.

     "I tried calling sooner, but I kept calling the wrong number. You don't have the most eligible handwriting," he had told you. You laughed but really, you were in shock.

     You set up a date at the fancy restaurant downtown that always intimidated you. You didn't say anything though, even though you knew you wouldn't want any of the overpriced food and you'd end up eating something you couldn't pronounce and was two portions too small. Maybe even hit up a fast food joint afterwards.

     When the day finally came, you couldn't even figure out what to wear. You couldn't tell if you looked underdressed or like you were trying too hard. Did the clothes even fit the right way? What would Duff think? Would he even care?

     All questions were answered when you left your house. Duff was leaning against his slick car parked in your driveway, a button up that was barely buttoned and dress pants with boots. He stared at you and you wanted a hole in the ground to shallow you up until he smiles.

     "You look gorgeous," he said. You blushed and grinned, thanking him before saying that he looked great too. He drove you to the restaurant and on the way, you talked about music.

     You shared some of your favorites, he adored how well rounded you were. You liked pretty much everything from punk rock to the mellowest of mellow. Duff mentioned some of his favorites, some you made sure to remember the names of so you can check them out.

     When the ride was over and you finally got to the restaurant, your previous fears came back. Duff reassured you looked better than 90% of the people there and you knew it wasn't true but it made you feel better anyway.

     Your eyes widened to the size of saucers when you saw the prices of the food. You knew it'd be pricey but you thought there'd be more options that stayed within two digit numbers.

     Duff saw your panicked expression and said not to worry, he'd pay. It didn't settle your nerves enough and when the waiter came, you ordered the cheapest and simplest thing you could find.

     "Chicken noodle soup?" He teased. You shyly looked down and shrugged. "This isn't your scene, is it?"

     "Not exactly, no."

     "Want me to be completely honest with you?" You nodded. "It's not mine either."

     That's all it took for you and Duff to scramble sheepishly out of the restaurant. You both shared a laugh in the car and went to Burger King. It was much more your speed and, as you'd find out that night, Duff's too. You suppose all the money he's had since such a young age didn't completely change his ways. He was like a kid trapped in a 40 year old man's body.

     You'd thought at first the age gap would feel strange, after all, you were 15 years younger than him. But after that night, it was barely noticeable. Funny looks from strangers every once in a while was nothing.

     By the second date, Duff was already aware fancy spots weren't your forte. He told you it was a surprise and to wear something cozy, as LA nights got chilly.

     He packed a picnic basket and drove you out to the most beautiful flower field you had ever seen at sunset. It was secluded and high up, giving a perfect view of the city skyline. After gawking and taking in the sights for a few moments, you regained your ability to speak.

     "It's gorgeous. Pretty far from the city, did you take me here to kill me?" You joked. He laughed and rolled his eyes. His lighthearted laugh sent sparks straight to your heart, and you decided that it was your favorite sound.

     You unfolded the blanket Duff brought and you both sat down. You ate the sandwiches and sliced fruit Duff packed and talked. You talked about everything, from your family to fears and insecurities.

You told him how you suffer from nightmares. Flashbacks from your broken childhood coming back to bite you in your sleep. Duff shared how he's suffered from panic attacks since he was a teenager. You felt you knew each other for years.

Neither of you felt weird for sharing and neither made the other insecure. You were completely open and honest with each other. It was strange, you've never connected to quickly and effortlessly with someone before. Sure, you've had men in your life, but never had you clicked with someone so fast, never had you fit with someone so perfectly.

Hours passed and it felt like minutes. Only did you realize how late and how exhausted you were when you saw most of the city buildings light have gone off for the night. The city that didn't sleep was dark.

"I should get you home," Duff said to you.

"Will you stay the night?" You felt a little silly for asking. Were things going too fast? Would he even want to stay over?

He agreed, and that's how your first night together went. You both stayed up even later and had more lighthearted conversations, unlike the ones that partook at the field. Like how one of Duff's first jobs was at a bakery and could bake a mean cake and how you can't cook to save your life.

You ended up waking up without remembering falling asleep. You're head was placed comfortably on Duff's lap while his head was lolled back against the couch cushion. He looked so serene and peaceful you couldn't help but smile at the sight.

You made toast and somewhat successfully cooked some eggs and bacon. It might have been the first breakfast in years that didn't end with the smoke alarm going off.

Duff eventually wandered into the kitchen and you both ate. By the time he left, another date was already set up. He was like a drug an you were already hooked.

Months later and the addiction still wasn't kicked. You didn't want to, and Duff didn't seem to want you to quit either. You both soaked each other up like the sun on a warm day.

You had almost weekly dates and you stayed over each other's houses almost every other day. Duff did have his kids some days, though, so some days dates were cut short or Grace and Mae slept over his house and you wouldn't see each other.

You were always understanding, his kids came first and you'd never blame or get upset about it. It's something Duff admires about you, your never ending understanding and empathy for him.

One of those days where Duff stayed over at your house started normal. He cooked dinner and you washed the dishes, and then you put on an old Ramones concert you had on DVD.

You were laying on his chest, his fingers running through your hair when all of a sudden, he tensed up. He quickly stood and excused himself to the bathroom. You frowned but before you could think much of it, you heard a loud bang and something clatter to the ground.

You jumped up and rushed to the bathroom. You swung open the door because you were perfectly aware the lock hasn't worked since you moved in.

Duff was sitting on the floor, a pill bottle laying on its side not far from him. You quickly spot the name of the medication and identified it as your anti-anxiety pills. You shoved them aside and sat next to Duff.

He was sweating bullets and his skin felt cold and clammy, his breaths were labored and heartbeat was loud and pounding erratically. You coax him gently to take deep breaths, holding onto his hand tightly and talking quietly.

"I'm sorry, they come on randomly sometimes," he apologized after he'd called down, but you quickly shushed him. You reminded him of just how many nightmares he'd comforted you for and he stops feeling so bad about it.

     It was always a true partnership with Duff. Never had you felt you gave or took too much, it was always equal. Always a two way street, with everything.

That wasn't the last panic attack you had to help him come down from. Later down the line you've gotten better at calming him down and learning his triggers, even though sometimes they really do come on suddenly without reason.

A year into the relationship was when you met Grace and Mae. They were young and didn't completely understand why their parents weren't together anymore, so it took them a while to warm up to you. Luckily, they eventually came around.

Duff and Susan met up regularly to discuss their kids and co-parent properly. And while you had all the reason to be jealous of your boyfriend with his ex wife, you never did. You had complete confidence in him, he was honest and loyal and you doubted he'd ever hurt you purposely.

That's why it destroyed you when he left you. Tears were shed from both parties as he gave his reasons for breaking up with you. His insecurities he tried his best to bury had come to light and nothing could change his mind.

You thought you were completely honest with each other, but you suppose his doubt in his relationship with you was the one thing he kept secret. He had somehow convinced himself you'd be better without him, between the constant touring and the baggage that came with him and his kids, he finally buckled under the weight and stress.

You had tried to convince him that he was worth it, but if Duff is one thing it's stubborn. The best relationship you'd ever have and the best year of your life went down the drain within the matter of one conversation.

You were down in the dumps for days. You barely left your bed and didn't ever leave your house. You were in a depression and couldn't get out. A few of your friends eventually found out what had happened and broke into your house and shoved you into the shower before taking you to your favorite Chinese restaurant.

You felt like a disaster. Your hair was ratted despite the shower and you refused to put real clothes on, instead wearing sweatpants and a shirt Duff had left behind. You were a mess.

The hole in the wall restaurant was never busy but always had the best food. You were almost happy your friends dragged you out of your home until you saw Duff sitting at a table, eating egg rolls and lo mein.

You've came here together all the time. The high sodium in the food always made him sick to his stomach and you'd always end up giving him nausea remedies and tea. He never changed his order though.

You locked eyes with him for a while. Dark bags were under his eyes and he looked more pale than usual. He looked as terrible as you felt. You weren't sure if you were spitefully glad he felt awful or if the despair on his face just made your heart break further.

When you couldn't take his intense jade stare anymore, you looked up at the menu. The next time you looked back he was gone, you weren't sure if he was really there at all or if you were finally losing your mind for good.

     Another week crawled by. You got better enough to continue working. You had to pick up extra time for calling out for a few days after the breakup. You wouldn't say things were going well, but you weren't crying in bed every day all day anymore.

     You had constant dreams about him. Some were nice, ones where he didn't leave and you were together, holding each other tightly. Most were nightmares, flashbacks of when he left. You didn't have him to comfort you anymore when you woke up soaked in sweat and tears, and that might've been the worst.

     Another week went by, and you were starting to get back into the swing of things. You still thought about him, even silly little things reminded you of him. Like when you would catch a sniff of freshly baked sweets like he'd bake you or certain songs playing on the radio. It also didn't help that you ran into people wearing Guns n Roses shirts on the daily.

     You also refused to get rid of anything he'd left behind. Tee shirts, guitar picks he left from when he'd play for you, or CDs from bands he introduced you to. Reminders of what you lost were scattered around your home but you couldn't bring yourself to do anything about it.

     Suddenly, it's been a month. You weren't over him, but you had a feeling you'd never be completely. He was something special, you can't forget things as special as your relationship with Duff.

     His items still weren't thrown out or returned, instead all packed in a box sitting in your closet. But you'd be lying if you said you would never reach into the box to grab a shirt to sleep in or a CD to listen to when you needed a reminder of the good times. You were making progress though.

     You decided to leave your house one evening. You were feeling especially terrible and wanted to take a walk to clear your head. You went to the coffee shop you had first met Duff in. Maybe it was a mistake to go and get a flood of memories but you couldn't stop yourself.

     You sat in a seat near the window and people watched, taking occasional sips of your drink. It was quiet except from the talk of the workers and the hum of the overhead speakers.

     There was a sudden squeak of a chair of hardwood floors and it broke you out of your daze. You snapped your gaze up to meet the very familiar green eyes you've been trying to forget.

     "Can we talk?" He asked, and you couldn't say 'no.' Duff sat across from you and started off by apologizing.

     He said he wanted to talk to you sooner, but was too afraid you wouldn't want anything to do with him. You rolled your eyes at that, if only he knew just how much you missed him.

     He then started from the beginning and explained why he made the decision to leave you. As it turns out, it was mostly because of stress. His bandmate Scott was having problems with drugs and the flashbacks from his GnR days frightened him. He was worried he would end up relapsing and he didn't want to drag you down with him.

     Combine that with all the troubles that came with dating a single father, and he couldn't take it anymore. He felt too guilty.

     It all seemed like ridiculous reasons to you. Even if he had made the mistake of falling off the wagon, you still would've stuck with him. And you didn't mind his kids at all, after nearly a year of knowing them and you were very close to them.

     "I love you, Duff. I wouldn't have left you over that, I'd help you through anything. And I love Grace and Mae, too," you told him.

     "I know, but I didn't want you to have to deal with all that baggage." You frowned at that. You reached your hand across the table and grasped his, squeezing it tenderly.

     "You're worth it."

     After that day, you and Duff started seeing each other again. It wasn't the same as before, but maybe even better.

     You were more transparent with each other. If one had a worry or problem, you'd go to the other. You talked everything through with him and he did the same. Even if it seemed insignificant, talking everything through never failed to make it better.

    You were happier and healthier than ever before. Sure, there were a roadblock or two, but they only made the relationship even stronger, and you wouldn't have changed a thing about it.

[thetinyadventurer]

“Hello? Um, no this isn’t Milo but he’s right here with me. Um, listen, something bad happened. I’m not sure what or who did this but it looks like someone hit him. His glasses are broken and his face is bruised. I found your contact info in his coat pocket. Can you come over? Please?” I hurriedly give the man my address.

“All right, I’ll be right over.” The male voice says and hangs up.

I turn back to Milo and assure him. “A friend of your’s will be here soon. Don’t worry everything’s going to be all right.”

The storm outside is getting worse. Rain pelts the window in a steady stream of droplets, obscuring the view of the outside world. I grab a few scoops of ice from the fridge and secure them in a cloth. I carefully place the makeshift ice pack onto one of the bruises.

“This should help with the swelling.” I tell him before shuffling back to the kitchen to continue making the soup.

That’s when I remember. Crap, I need to call Helga. I can’t handle the situation on my own. If somebody went out of their way to hurt Milo that badly then there’s a chance they might come back. I’ll need backup.

I walk over to the phone and quickly dial the number.

A low female voice speaks on the other end of the line. “Hello?”

I keep my voice in a low whisper so that Milo won’t hear me. I’m worried that her presence here might scare him. After all, the last time he saw her she had been trying to rob Atlantis. Even though it had been years (and two world wars) since that happened, some memories could still hurt. I would know…

Luckily, Helga had worked hard to change for the better since then and had even saved my life a couple of times. Besides, I’d made a promise to her back in the lost city of Lemuria; If I ever needed help, I wouldn’t try to do things on my own. Instead, I’d call her and she’d come running.

“Helga? It’s Lilia. Um, listen, I found an old colleague of your’s. Remember that guy you told me so much about? Milo Thatch? Well he’s sitting here in my living room. It looks like someone hurt him pretty bad…Anyway, can you come over? Please?”

There is a long pause on the other end of the line. So long that I’m worried that I’ve lost the connection.

Finally, she speaks up, her tone low and serious. “Are you armed?”

I nod but then, remembering that she can’t see me, I reply. “No but I have my Winchester nearby.”

“Put it on.” She orders, making me shudder. I often forget she used to be in the military. “I’m coming over. Listen for the knock.”

“Okay. Thank you…”

I hang up and poke my head out into the living room to check in on Milo. “Hey, just so you know, I’ve got a friend coming over that’s coming to help out. Um, you probably know her uh… Please don’t freak out, okay?”

Milo gives me a puzzled look. Should I just tell him the truth or would that make things worse? Damn am I bad at social situations. I go back to my room for a brief moment to grab my firearm before I return to making the soup. I’ve added extra ingredients since I’m expecting more company. Worry and anxiety plague my thoughts as the minutes tick by. Time stretches on for what feels like an eternity until, finally, the soup is finished.

I pour a bowl for Milo and carry it into the living room along with the hot chocolate I made earlier. I place it on the coffee table next to the history books.

“Here,” I nod to the soup. “It’s chicken noodle. My Mom used to make this for me all the time whenever it was cold outside. Somehow, it always manages to make me feel better…”

I give him a soft smile as I slide into my favorite armchair.

Finally, he speaks.

“Who are you?” He asks, his expression puzzled.

“Lilia Rothbauer. I’m a secretary by day and an Adventurer by night. I investigate all things weird— Both supernatural and mundane. They’re tough jobs but I get to help people so it’s worth it.”

“And how did you know who I was?”

“That’s…” I hesitate, chewing some loose skin off my lower lip. “A complicated answer.”

A sudden knock makes me jump out of my skin. That’s definitely not Helga’s knock. It sounds almost… Frantic. My fingers reach up towards my chest towards the crystal that’s embedded there; A consequence for my crimes against Lemuria but also a reminder of the oath I swore to protect it. The crystal isn’t burning so that means that whoever’s on the other side doesn’t mean me or Milo any harm. And, hey, the consciousness of an ancient psychic society is never wrong so…

However, the door shook pretty damn hard so whoever’s on the other side must be pretty strong and this has me pretty nervous. But still, Milo needs help. I can’t afford to be a chicken now!

I take a deep breath and move to open the door.

"Let's go home."

It's Milo outside, shivering and soaking wet, and looking absolutely miserable, like the whole world has taken turns kicking him, and then doing it againonce he's down. Like he might cry if he isn't already doing so. His glasses are set crooked, so he probably is barely able to see, and thus, he probably doesn't know where he is.

“Oh, my god, Milo!”

I sprint outside so quickly that I don’t even bother putting on my boots. All I’ve got in hand is an umbrella which I struggle to open as I shuffle down the street.

“Milo!” I call out as I run up to him, managing to open the umbrella just in time.

I raise the umbrella up above his head, shielding him from the rain. I have to stand on my tiptoes as I reach up and remove his glasses. I haphazardly use the hem of my shirt to clean off his glasses before gently placing them back on his face. I get how hard it is to see with water-logged glasses as I wear glasses, myself. I don’t even think twice before I grab Milo’s shaking hand.

“Let’s go home.” I murmur, softly as I pull him towards my apartment building, keeping the umbrella above our heads. I squeeze his hand gently for good measure. I know how it feels to be alone and miserable. Milo’s such a sweet, kind-hearted soul and even though I can’t carry his problems for him, I can damn well make them lighter! He would have done the same for me, after all.

I guide him up the stairs and into my apartment building. It’s small for an apartment in Washington DC in the early 1900’s but I do my best to make it feel welcoming. The ivory walls are tinted amber from the lamp-light and the crackling fireplace gives off much needed warmth.

I pull Milo into the bathroom and gesture for him to sit on the edge of the tub.

“I’ll be right back.” I say as I sprint into my bedroom where I rummage through the dresser until I find what I’m looking for: A cozy pair of pajamas, a big, fluffy towel and a pair of socks that an ex of mine forgot to reclaim after we broke up. They’re big enough that they should fit him. I hurry back to the bathroom and gently place the clothes and towel on the edge of the sink.

“These might be a little big on you but they’re better than nothing.” I comment before turning back to him, looking him in the eyes.

I reach out and gently squeeze his shoulder— A simple gesture to reassure him that I’m there for him and that he’s not alone, anymore.

“Take a bath to warm yourself up.” I instruct. “You can put your wet clothes in the sink and I’ll hang them up to dry. Don’t worry about the water, I can clean it up later. There’s some bubble bath here if you like scented things and a rubber ducky to keep you company. His name is George. Feel free to take as much time as you need, okay? When you’re done, dry off and put on these pajamas. Then meet me in the living room. I’ll make us some hot chocolate with extra marshmallows!”

I give him a brief but tight hug. “You don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to but please know that I’m here for you if you need me. If you need to cry then cry, I won’t judge. If you need to vent to me, I’ll listen. As for advice, well, I’m a shitty advice-giver but I’ll do the best I can to help out. Just do whatever you need to do to feel better, okay?”

I stand up and walk towards the door. “I’ll give you some privacy. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

I give him one last smile before shutting the door behind me. I crack my knuckles.

“Okay, time to make some hot chocolate and chicken noodle soup!” I announce to the empty air.

Milo can take all the time he needs to recover. As long as he’s happy and doesn’t catch a cold, I’ll do whatever it takes to help him out. And if I find out who made him cry I’m calling my neighbor, Helga Sinclair, to go kick their asses.

//Sorry that was so long! Thank you for the first ask. Not sure how I did but I hope you like it!//

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Podoboo

Debut: Super Mario Bros.

Before I start this post, I’d like to clear something up. Podoboo? Yes, Podoboo! I’m well aware these enemies are often called Lava Bubbles and that’s the name Nintendo has been trying to make standardised these days, but you know what? You can’t make me! Podoboo is a lot cuter, plus its the name I grew up with and changes in society scare me and cause me to lash out! Maybe Lava Bubble is closer to the Japanese name of just “Bubble”, but since when has that been a factor in any of the localised names? Do you really want to refer as Lakitu as “Jugemu”, huh? I’ll have you know one of my civil rights as a citizen of Wet Dry World is to refer to Mario enemies with whichever official name I please. Like it or leave it!

So this is a post about Podoboo. Do you like Podoboo? I certainly Podo-do! They are perhaps the most generic design you could give to a Mario enemy, a visibly Dangerous Thing with two eyes, but they have always charmed me! It’s the little things, like their distinct shape and the fact their pupils are somewhat wider than most obstacles like this. They bring me comfort in dire times. No matter what happens, I know Podoboo will be there, jumping at a set height in a particular spot of lava! Without them I would be nothing! 

So simple is their design, isn’t it weird to think they started off as even simpler? The Podoboos in the first SMB game are completely blind, and with no eyes they may as well not be creatures at all! Of course, I’m very glad they are creatures, and their iconic behaviour was there from the start! They love to jump, of course! There is nothing they would rather be doing!

Awaken! As of Super Mario World, they have been gifted sight and are no longer blind to the sins of this world! Hurray! What do you think they see as they jump up and down? I’m surprised it doesn’t make them dizzy!

You’ll be glad to hear Podoboos have had an expansive career ever since, now with their new trademark eyes! After all, they are THE lava enemy! Anywhere you’ve got that tasty hot fire juice, these guys are soon to follow! Here they are in Super Mario RPG, called Sparkies here because they couldn’t make up their minds on a localized name and probably because they confused them with Li’l Sparkies. In Yoshi’s Story they even called them Spark Spooks! Geez, I’ll even take the name Lava Bubble over this! But doesn’t this render look nice and juicy?

Though any great career has its flops, and I have to say... I am usually the first to campaign for the unique designs from the first three Paper Marios, but I do not really like this Lava Bubble! This takes away from their distinct Mario-y charm and makes them look like a Fire Enemy you could find in any other game! Though in the RPGs they are able to float around without needing any lava, the ones in Super Paper Mario act just like the platformer ones, jumping around despite not looking like they should be doing that! Ok!

The Podoboo from New Super Mario Bros. DS just wasn’t trying very hard at all. Come on! They could’ve it a bit more justice than this! 

Ah, there we go! The Podoboos in New Super Mario Bros. Wii decided to finally stop messing about and go back to what everyone loved from them in Super Mario World. I encourage experimenting with your identity, of course, but it’s good to be back, and now they are more mortal than ever! A single shot from an Ice Flower is enough to instantly vaporize a Podoboo in a puff of smoke, which is a bit scary! Are they really just pure fireballs that can be put out just like that? What a frightening life to live!

And in Super Mario Galaxy 2, they... hey, wait!! You took away their eyes again! Now you are just being inconsiderate. This outraged me as a kid! One of my most vivid memories of playing this game with my brother involved chanting “Podoboo rights! They deserve eyes!” because this upset me so much. Maybe my past as an activist is why I am so passionate about Mario enemies these days... I think I was 100 percent correct in hindsight, and now you know some of my backstory, too!

What relief it gave me to find out they were back to their usual selves in 3D Land! And they have been ever since, of course getting redesigned for the modern Paper Mario games and everything. 

What’s this? Blue Podoboos! Podo-blues, even...! They show up in 3D World, in its incredibly cool-looking blue lava levels! It’s a well known fact that blue fire is objectively cooler than red fire, and it seems even the Podoboos wanted in on the action! Blue Lava is an actual phenomenon I’ve just learnt, though it’s a sulfuric fire rather than lava. Could it be that Podoboos, being made entirely of lava, adapt to their environment? I’m not sure...

As an aside, the blue Lava Bubbles aren’t to be confused with Lava Bubble (Blue), which are from Mario Galaxy and show up during King Kaliente’s fight! They hop around on the ground and have square-ish eyes, which is enough to make them different I guess!

The Podoboo’s next big appearance, in Super Mario Odyssey, was in Soup! Yes you heard me- Soup! Some delightfully pepto-bismol pink coloured soup, no less. This is why I wasn’t too sure about Podoboo’s being able to adapt to their environment earlier- the Luncheon Kingdom is a big soup volcano after all, but the fact these Lava Bubbles are able to live in it is very interesting!

There is simply no way I would talk about Odyssey here without talking about possibly its greatest achievement, the best game design decision ever made! After decades of begging from fans, they finally did the impossible- they made Podoboo playable! Now it is Podo-you! It is quite unlike the other captures in the game, since it keeps the Podoboo’s simple-looking eyes and simply adds onto it a nose and a mustache! You may very well be the world’s first Podoboo with a sense of smell! I wonder if that is a benefit or not. The constant smell of soup might be a bit overpowering. 

Not only is this delightful, but it gives us more insight into the life of the humble Podoboo. First of all is the fact that they can swim around in lava, not just jump in one spot! Do you think they do this when we aren’t looking? I really hope so! Imagine a school of Podoboos swimming through molten lava in a castle’s moat. How delightful! 

The Luncheon Kingdom is also home to a number of Lava cannons, marked with a Podoboo’s lovely face. These are cannons for only for Podoboos to launch themselves across the kingdom, from one body of lava to another! My question is whether this was technology made by Podoboos themselves or whether it was made by some generous Podoboo lovers as some lava equivalent to the Fish Tube. I think I would take either explanation! 

And last I have a Podoboo appearance that even I, the world’s biggest Podoboo fan, didn’t know about! Paper Mario Color Splash has a Big Lava Bubble boss which speaks with you through a Shy Guy translator! It is quite upset that you barged into its volcano and decided to change the temperature. Mario, of course, kills it anyway, and also the Shy Guy translator without a second thought.

Still, just take a look at this sprite sheet! How cute! A little disappointing that they thinned out the eyes, but wow! They more than make up for it with this range of expressions! An angry Podoboo! A sad Podoboo! And my personal favorite is of course the shocked Podoboo with its assymetrical dot eyes, which might be one of the best things I’ve ever seen. 

To be honest, I could talk about Podoboo forever! If you didn’t stop me, I would go on all day about their every appearance, but I kind of had to limit myself to some of the most relevant ones. I just think they’re neat! And cute! And silly! Besides, I’m Mod F Boy, so I’m basically obliged to talk about fireballs with eyes! But for now I must bid you Pod-adieu! 

...Not! What, did you really believe me? Well you clicked the Keep Reading button, so you only have yourself to blame for this. Here I am talking about more Lava Bubbles from all over, because Lava Bubble’s career has taken it BEYOND the Mario series! Wow!

Podoboo’s had quite a few appearance in the Zelda series, appearing in Link’s Awakening, both the Oracle games, and even Cadence of Hyrule! Their Zelda wiki page is still called Podoboo instead of Lava Bubble, which means those Zelda fans have it better than we do. But wow, this is a pretty angry looking Podoboo! I wouldn’t mess with them! 

Both the Oracle games even had a Podoboo Tower! Amazing! They look quite a lot like a Fire Snake, but they are simply a tower of Podoboos! Why don’t they do this more often?

Hm... The Cadence of Hyrule one doesn’t have any eyes. Come on guys! It’s 2019! Podoboos having eyes should be standard! Though they still made the conscious decision to call them “Podoboos” in 2019, so I can’t be too mad. 

And they have even spread to Minecraft! In the Mario Mash-up Pack, they replace the Magma Cube enemies, and really there was no better choice for this. And now we have a Podoboo Cube! What more could possibly be left for Podoboo?

The answer is obvious- Podoboo in real life! Thanks to a certain Lego Mario set, Podoboo is now real and can be in your home for the small price of 19,99 US dollars. Please give a Podoboo a home today! Just make sure you don’t own anything flammable. 

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

Plant Your Hope With Good Seeds

Dukeceit Week Day 3: Snakes/Bugs

Remus and Janus break up. But literally everyone knows that's not what they want. Everyone, including their plants.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 4337

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

-

Unknown Number

hey so i kno i said i wouldnt text u but rupert isnt doin good. can i bring him back? he misses u

Janus stared at the text for several minutes. Rupert was, of course, the Monstera Variegata that he and Remus had raised together all the way from propagation. It had been one of the pride and joys of their plant collection. Losing Rupert in the split had hurt almost as much as losing Remus.

...Almost. 

Janus

Is it getting enough light? Remember it needed the grow light even next to the window. 

Janus texted back against his better judgement. He and Remus were broken up. They’d agreed not to text for a while. They’d agreed to give each other space, get used to being apart. 

It sucked, though. The apartment felt empty without Remus and half their plant collection.

Unknown Number

ya i kno. but i don’t have any south facign windows here. our place is better

Unknown Number

i mean ur place

Janus sighed morosely. Well, if it was for Rupert…

Janus

Fine. Rupert can come back.

Unknown Number

yay! ill be in town this weekend. ill bring him ok?

Janus

Ok.

And then Janus promptly threw his phone across the room.

Because here’s the thing. Janus and Remus were broken up. Remus had moved eight hours away and everything. He’d been accepted into the Nuclear Engineering graduate program a state away, and they had both heard too many horror stories about long-distance relationships to brother trying. So they’d had a very civil and mutual split. Janus kept the apartment. Remus took the TV. And they’d divided their plant family between them: they each kept their favorites, and Remus had taken the hardier plants, while Janus kept the ones that were likely not to survive an interstate move.

And then… Remus left.

And Janus had not immediately wanted him back. Not at all.

(And, of course, Janus was lying to himself.)

Remus texted him Saturday morning that he was on his way, and Janus spent the first few hours of the wait stress-cleaning. He then checked on every single plant in the apartment. Watered the ones that needed it. Rotated some of the more vivacious growers so that they wouldn’t lean full-body toward their light source. Moved his small army of Sansevierias out to the apartment balcony for some extra sun.   

Then, when all that still failed to fill up the entire eight hours of waiting, he started stress-cooking. So by the time Remus texted that he’d just gotten off the highway, Janus had himself a pot of minestrone soup simmering on the stove, a tray of made-from-scratch lasagna in the oven, and was mixing up a batch of double chocolate chip cookies. 

There was no way he was going to eat all this food himself, he realized. He was so used to booking big meals like this, because Remus ate like he was three people. And lasagna was his favorite.

“Oh, Jake, what am I doing?” he groaned to the N’Joy Pothos that cascaded down the side of the refrigerator. And then his doorbell rang. 

Janus opened the door to find Remus, dancing awkwardly from foot to foot, with his face half-hidden behind the green-and-white leaves of Rupert. 

“...Hey,” Remus said, sounding sheepish. Janus’ heart clenched.

“Hi,” he said. They stood there in the doorway for a full minute before Janus stepped back and motioned for Remus to follow. Remus hesitated, but obeyed. 

“Uh… I’ll just…” Remus looked around. Janus hated how uncomfortable he looked. Until about two weeks ago, this had been Remus’ apartment, too. “Can I put him in his old spot?”

“Sure,” Janus replied with a nod. Rupert’s old spot had been in the bedroom, where the big, beautiful south-facing window let in a ton of light. He’d moved Venus de Milos, his Marble Queen Pothos, and La Hoya Jackson, the finicky Hoya Carnosa that Remus had wanted but didn’t expect to make the 8-hour drive without going into shock, to free up Rupert’s spot. Remus hesitated again, before he nodded awkwardly and wandered off to the bedroom, all three feet of plant and two gallons of soil in tow. Janus went to the oven and took out the lasagna. 

“Howl looks good,” Remus said when he came back into the kitchen. Janus glanced up from where he was laying balls of cookie dough out onto baking sheets. 

“Thank you,” he replied. Howl was their dramatic fiddle leaf fig tree, which had decided to throw a fit just before Remus left. “I switched it to a terracotta pot with peat moss and pearlite, and doubled its water intake. It seems to be tolerating it well.”

“Good.” There was a long pause. Then,” How are you?”

Janus looked back to the cookies. “I’m doing well,” he lied. “And you? Do you start class soon?”

“Next week,” Remus answered. “And, uh. Yeah, I’m doin’ good.” Another long pause. “Uh… I’ll just. Head out, I guess.”

“You could stay,” Janus blurted out. Shit. “For dinner, I mean.” He gestured to the tray of lasagna, fresh from the oven. “If you want.”

Remus gave him an uncharacteristically shy smile, then nodded slowly. He didn’t say anything, though, so Janus just gestured for him to take a seat at the table. And then he joined him, a plate of lasagna for each of them.

“So tell me, how’s living with Roman again?” Janus asked, a few bites into the meal, because he could not take the awkward silence a moment longer.

“It’s ok,” Remus answered. He shoveled another forkful of lasagna into his mouth. “This is really good, Jan.”

Janus smiled softly. “Thank you.” A pause. “Roman doesn’t mind all the plants?”

“Nah, he’s dating this guy Patton who apparently loves plants, so the apartment being full of houseplants is a huge plus to him now.”

“Good for him.” The oven timer went off, startling him slightly. He started to get up, but Remus waved him off.

“I got ‘em, you did all the cooking.”

Janus didn’t protest. Remus got up and took the cookies out of the oven. And he even moved them to a cooling rack like Janus had taught him to do. He came back to the table. 

“How’s work?”

Janus sighed. “Oh, terrible as always,” he answered. “I really must start looking for a new job.”

“Finally getting fed up?” Remus teased. Janus rolled his eyes. More seriously, Remus continued, “You deserve better, Jan. You gotta find some place that treats you right and pays you what you’re worth.”

“Thank you, Remus.”

“And hey, just sayin’, I still think you’d make an excellent stripper.”

Janus snorted at that. “I haven’t fully ruled out that particular career change.”

They fell easily back into their usual banter, lingering late into the night over a dessert of milk and cookies. It was pushing 10pm when Remus glanced at his phone and cursed softly. Janus glanced at his phone as well.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so late,” he said. Remus shrugged.

“Nah, it’s cool. Thanks for dinner, Jan. It was real good, as always.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Uh… well, the plan was to stay with Logan, but I guess he had some kind of family emergency, so I don’t wanna trouble him. I’ll probably see if I can find a hotel room.”

Janus’ brow furrowed at that. “Why don’t you just stay here?”

“Oh, uh. I don’t wanna trouble you. I kinda feel like I already overstayed my welcome a bit?”

“Nonsense. A hotel room will cost you at least $100 for the night, and that’s simply ridiculous,” Janus insisted. “You should just stay here.”

Remus worried at his lip, which Janus knew meant he was mulling over his options. Then, he nodded. “If it’s not a bother?”

“Of course not. You’re not a bother, Remus.”

Remus’ eyes softened, and he smiled. “Ok. Thank you. Oh… lemmie go get my overnight back outta my truck.”

When Remus came back inside, Janus had just about finished making up the couch. 

“Hey, you don’t gotta get all fancy,” Remus teased. “You know I can sleep basically anywhere.”

“This is for me,” Janus replied. He fluffed up one of the pillows a bit more. “You take the bed.”

An odd look flashed across Remus’ face. “No way, Jan. I’m good on the couch.”

“Remus, you just drove eight hours, and you’re doing it again tomorrow. I am not letting you fuck up your back.”

‘I don’t-”

“Yes you do, no matter how often you say you can sleep anywhere,” Janus scoffed. “You can’t lie to me.”

Remus’ eyes softened, and after a moment, he sighed. “Ok, Jan. But what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You hate sleeping on couches.”

“It’s only one night-”

“And don’t you work tomorrow?”

“Yes, but-”

“You’re going to be so grumpy at work without a proper night’s sleep.”

“I’m usually grumpy at work anyway,” Janus pointed out. Remus snorted.

“Ok, that’s true. But I don’t want you to be even grumpier,” he said. “Let’s just share the bed.”

Janus eyed him for a moment. This was a terrible idea. They should not do this.

“Ok,” Janus said anyway.

They got ready for bed in awkward silence, which just made Janus miss Remus’ long, rambling chatter that much more. When Janus finished in the bathroom, he found Remus sitting gingerly on what used to be his side of the bed. Janus came over and sat down on the other side.

“Hey, uh… thanks,” Remus said. “For lettin’ me stay.”

“Of course,” Janus answered. “I… I still think of you as a friend, Remus.”

At that. Remus grimaced slightly. He didn’t say anything, seeming unable to find the right words. Before he could, Janus pulled back the top blankets on the bed and laid down. After a moment, Remus did the same.

“Good night, Remus,” Janus said quietly.

“...Good night, Janus,” Remus answered. Then he reached over and shut off the light.

-

Remus played that night over and over in his head in the days after he got home, and each and every time, he was just as stumped. 

He knew, in his brain, why he and Janus had broken up. It had been the only thing that made sense at the time, when the facts were just that Remus was moving away to pursue a lifelong dream, and Janus would never ever try to stop him from doing so. So they broke up. It made sense… right? 

But… That morning, he’d woken up to Janus curled up in his arms, face smushed against Remus’ neck, and… Remus had completely forgotten why they had even broken up in the first place.

Remus was back at Roman’s apartment, now. Eight hours away in his own cold bed, arms empty of the man he loved, just staring at the ceiling. A sharp knock on his door snapped him out of his daze.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” Roman called. “Don’t you have class in like an hour?”

“Fuck!” Remus scrambled to get up, but succeeded only in rolling out of the bed.

“Don’t forget to lock the door when you leave,” Roman added. Clearly he was unconcerned by the loud “thump” of a body hitting the floor. 

“Yup, got it,” Remus groaned in reply. He staggered, successfully this time, to his feet. 

Getting dressed was a rushed affair of ‘grab whatever’s closest,’ and soon he emerged from the bedroom with one shoe on, the other in his hand, and his backpack slung over one shoulder. He rushed into the kitchen to grab the travel mug of coffee Janus always set out for him in the mornings. And then the realization hit: Janus didn’t live here.

Remus dropped his shoe. 

The rest of the day went about as well as it could have gone without any coffee- that is to say, terribly. He got lost trying to get to campus, then he got lost again trying to get to class. Then he got stuck in traffic on the way back to Roman’s apartment. And then, to top it all off, the grocery store had been out of his favorite chips. 

So here he was, mopey and chip-less, and fucking exhausted. He dumped his backpack and collapsed face-first onto the couch. Roman, who happened to be sitting on said couch, made a noise of protest.

“Move, I need to sulk,” Remus mumbled, though his voice was thoroughly muffled by Roman’s thigh, since that was where his face had landed. 

“What on earth do you need to sulk for?” Roman asked incredulously. He moved to shove Remus off of him, but Remus went full ragdoll, and Roman couldn’t do a damn thing. “You are a grown man, you know.”

Remus turned his head just enough to stick his tongue out at Roman. Roman stuck his tongue out back.

“I had a terrible day, I earned a good sulk.”

“Didn’t like your classes?”

“Nah, they were great.”

“Professors?”

“Great.”

“Classmates?”

“Great.”

“Then Zeus Almighty, what are you so mopey-dopey about?” Roman remanded.

Remus squirmed around so he was laying on his back, head still in Roman’s lap, to look up at his brother. “So… uh… you promise not to get all, like. I told you so and shit?” 

“You miss Janus!”

“No! I-”

“You do!” Roman crowed triumphantly. Remus rolled onto his side so he didn’t have to look at his brother’s dumb gloaty face.

“...Maybe,” he groaned. Abruptly, he clamored to his feet and started for the stairs. “I gotta go build a chair.”

“Carpentry won’t solve your relationship problems,” Roman called after him.

“I know,” Remus called back. “Wrong type of wood.” If Roman had a response to that, Remus was already out the door and didn’t have to hear it. 

Patton found him out in front of the apartment building some time later, a jigsaw in hand, and a pile of cut wooden dowels at his feet.

“Hey, kiddo, what are you up to?”

Remus looked up from where he was balancing a plank of wood precariously across a milk crate, because his work table was one of the things he’d had to leave behind at Janus’ place.

“Oh, hey. Ro-bro’s upstairs.”

Patton gave him the sort of smile teachers gave to the kid they caught eating glue for the fourth time. “That doesn’t look super safe. Do you want any help?”

Remus took in Patton’s soft blue sweater and the dad-jeans from the nicer end of his closet, as well as the reusable grocery store bag that smelled suspiciously like some kind of lovely home-cooked meal; he shook his head. “You look dressed for a date night,” he said. “I don’t wanna fuck up two relationships this week.”

Patton’s eyes, impossibly, got even bigger and softer than they normally were, which honestly was quite the feat. He walked over to the stairs but, instead of making his way up to Roman’s apartment, he plopped down on the third step, facing Remus. Remus stared, bewildered.

“Uh, what’chu doin’ there, pops?”

“Well, it just sounded like you needed to talk,” Patton replied cheerfully. “So here I am.”

Remus stared a moment longer, somehow even more bewildered than before. “Uh…”

“I know I haven’t known you very long,” Patton continued. “But something tells me you’re the type of person who busts out the power tools when you’re upset.”

“How the hell can you tell that?”

Patton glanced over his shoulder, then leaned forward slightly. “Because,” he said, voice lowered conspiratorially. “I’m like that too.”

Remus blinked. “You?”

“Yup! I replaced all the tables and chairs in my house with ones I made myself after my last breakup,” Patton giggled. “Only two of them collapsed when I sat in them, too!”

Remus glanced down at the jigsaw in his hands, and then he sighed. He set it down, and went to sit next to Patton on the steps. 

“Ok, well. Yeah, maybe I’m kinda upset.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yeah? No? Maybe?”

“Yup, those are your three options!” Patton teased. Remus rolled his eyes.

“Ok, fine. You win, daddy-o. I’m upset because I miss my boyfriend. Or, well, my ex-boyfriend. I want him to be my boyfriend again.”

“Have you told him that?”

“Of course not,” Remus whined.

“Why not?”

“Because… I mean. It wouldn’t change anything. I still moved away. And I don’t even know if he’d want to be my boyfriend again either. Maybe he’s happier now.”

“You don’t know that,” Patton said gently. “Sure, maybe the circumstances aren’t the best right now, but if you both want it, things have a funny way of working out. But you have to talk to him.”

“I…” Remus paused. And then he sighed deeply. “I guess you’re right. Hey thanks, that did actually sorta help.”

Patton offered him a gentle smile. “Of course, Remus! Any time!”

“Hey!”

They both turned to see Roman standing at the top of the stairs, arms crossed.

“My own brother, hogging my boyfriend like this! The betrayal-”

“Relax, Ro, he’s not my type,” Remus shot back. “I prefer sarcastic little menaces.”

Patton giggled at that. He stood up and patted Remus on the shoulder. “I hope things work out,” he said. Remus smiled back.

“Yeah, I hope so too.”

Really, he just wanted Janus to be happy. Ideally with him, but if Janus was happier without him, well… so be it. 

- - -

Janus was miserable. 

“Dude, c’mon,” Virgil grumbled, immediately upon seeing the state of the apartment. “You’ve been watering your plants and filling the humidifiers, but you can’t be bothered to throw out your gross pizza boxes?” A pause. “Wait, you don’t even like pizza, what the hell.”

Janus just shrugged. After letting Virgil and Logan into the apartment, he’d gone straight back into blanket-burrito-on-the-couch mode. And really, he’d only bothered to get up and let them inside in the first place because Virgil had threatened to axe down the door- and Janus knew for a fact that Virgil owned multiple axes. 

“I believe he is engaging in what is described as ‘emotional eating,’ or using food as a coping mechanism in a time of stress and emotional turmoil,” Logan said helpfully. Virgil just huffed.

“That’s fine and all, but Jesus Christ, dude.” He gestured around the livingroom where… ok, yeah, it was a mess.

“Did you two come here just to insult me?” Janus grumbled. His face was half-mashed into a pillow, though, so who knows how much of that was actually discernible.

“We came to make sure you were still alive,” Virgil snapped, indicating that at least most of what Janus had said was discernible. “You weren’t answering any texts.”

“Yes, and you called out of work three days in a row,” Logan added. “We are concerned for you, Janus.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Janus lied from the comfort of his depression blanket burrito. He was not particularly surprised when neither Virgil or Logan looked even remotely convinced.

“Alright, drastic measure time,” Virgil growled. He walked over to the window, and picked up the young Burgundy Rubber Tree Janus had yet to name. Janus sat bolt upright. 

“Virgil? Don’t you dare-”

Virgil walked past him and vanished down the hall. When he came back, his hands were empty, and he had a smirk on his face.

“Oh, fuck you,” Janus hissed. He dragged himself up off the couch to go rescue the poor thing, finding it stashed in the dark, windowless bathroom. When he came back to the livingroom, Virgil and Logan were sprawled across the couch.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Janus set the rubber tree back on the windowsill alongside the Snake Plant Army. “Ok, I’m up. Are you heathens happy now?”

“I take offense to that,” Logan muttered, while Virgil just crossed his arms and said, curtly, “Spill it.”

“Spill what?”

“Why are you so upset?”

“I’m not upset-”

“Falsehood,” Logan interrupted. “I have known you since high school, Janus, and I have never seen you like this before. It is highly alarming.”

“Is this about Remus?” Virgil asked.

“No,” Janus said immediately. “Of course not.”

Virgil and Logan exchanged a Look. Janus groaned.

“Fuck. Ok, fine. Maybe it is.”

“Was that so hard?” Virgil asked. 

“Yes.”

“You-”

“Janus,” Logan interrupted Virgil’s retort. “It is my understanding that emotional distress is often alleviated through, as they say, ‘talking it out.’ It is clear you are not handling the break-up as well as you initially believed-”

“Of course I’m not!” Janus snapped. He took a deep breath, and turned back to the plants on his windowsill. Kaa, the Sansevieria Moonshine Remus had gotten for Janus as an anniversary present last year, was already leaning slightly toward the window again. He rotated it, and a few of the other snake plants on the sill. And then he realized the others had been quiet for far too long. He turned to find them both watching him with sympathetic expressions. “What?”

“Keep going,” Virgil prompted. Janus sighed. He felt exhausted.

“Of course I’m not,” he said again. “Because I love Remus.”

“And?” Virgil prompted.

“...And I didn’t want us to break up,” he finished, feeling glum. Wordlessly, Virgil stood up, and approached Janus, arms out. Janus stepped into the embrace. Nobody said anything; Janus didn’t cry, but he stood there for a long time. Then, he stepped back.

“Thank you,” he said, and he meant it. Virgil gave him a small smile. Logan cocked his head, seeming confused.

“I don’t understand. You just… needed a hug?”

“Hugs are great, Logan,” Virgil replied. “You should try them sometime- hey, where are you going?”

Janus strode past them both, beelining for his bedroom to find his laptop. Over his shoulder, he answered, “To fill out some job applications.”

- - -

Remus was outside building a new bookshelf- because Patton was moving in, and Roman's teenie-tiny sad little excuse for a bookshelf, which held only Disney DVDs and no actual books, wouldn’t suffice for all of Patton’s cookbooks- when his phone rang. Which was weird, because nobody ever called him, because he never fucking answered.

“Not interested, Mr. Spam Man,” he crooned over the sound of the generic iPhone ringtone. He was learning how to do kerf bending for this bookcase, and goddamn it he wasn’t going to be distracted by-

His phone started ringing again. He swore and ripped off his gloves to silence his phone. But as he did so, he realized the number flashing across his screen was a familiar one. 

“Janus? Are you ok?” he answered the call, half panicked, because Janus hated phone calls almost as much as he did.

“Hi. Yes, everything’s fine.” Janus sounded slightly hysterical, which made Remus feel even more frantic. “Where are you?”

“I’m at Roman’s. Are you sure you’re ok-”

“Great, don’t leave. I’ll be right there.”

“What does that mean-” Remus demanded, but the line was already dead. Remus swore again. He briefly considered calling him back, because what the actual fuck was that all about, but he was only about 30 seconds into that brief consideration before a familiar car tearing through the apartment complex parking lot caught his attention. He quickly brushed as much of the sawdust off his clothes as he could because holy shit Janus had just parked right there in front of Roman’s apartment.

Remus watched, dumbfounded, as Janus scrambled out of his car- dressed in his very nice black suit and pale yellow button-up- and came running across the lawn toward where Remus was working. He had a tiny plant clutched to his chest.

“Uh, Jan, you good?” Remus asked. Janus stopped in front of him and doubled over, breathless, for a few moments. Then, he straightened up, and fixed Remus with a look of sheer determination.

“Remus. I want to get back together.”

Remus’ heart, the traitorous bastard, leaped up into his throat and blocked all his words from coming out. 

“It’s… it’s ok if you don’t want that,” Janus continued. His look of determination faltered slightly. “It’s ok. But I needed to tell you. Because I love you, so much. And I… I didn’t want you to think I didn’t, even if you don't-”

Remus found his words abruptly. “Jan, fuck! I do! I do love you. I never stopped loving you. All I want is to be with you.”

Janus’ eyes softened. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Good, because I’ve just been offered a job here.”

Remus choked. Janus was eyeing him smugly. “You. Just like that, you got a job here?”

“Just like that,” Janus grinned. “I just came from the interview. They offered me a position on the spot.”

Remus couldn't help himself any longer. He lurched forward and pulled Janus tightly into his arms.

“Hey, be careful,” Janus said, though he made absolutely no effort to get out of Remus’ embrace. “You’ll crush our new son.”

Remus pulled back just enough to look at the small plant Janus held in his hands, and only then did his brain register what it was. 

“Is! Is that-”

“Yes,” Janus replied, holding up the tiny Drosera Capensis seedling. Remus had wanted one of these for ages.

“For me?”

“Well, for us, ideally,” Janus answered, with a shy smile. “But, mostly for you, yes.”

Remus gently plucked the baby octopus plant- their new son!- from Janus’ hands, and placed it carefully on top of the milk crate that was serving as his carpentry workbench. Then, he hoisted Janus up off the ground and spun him around.

“Oh- Re-” Janus exclaimed, though he was laughing. “Put me down!”

“No!” Remus trilled. He spun Janus around once more. Then he just stood there, holding Janus, gazing up at him. Janus’ eyes grew soft. Slowly, he carded his fingers through Remus’ hair.

“Hey,” Janus said.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Remus set Janus down, but kept his arms still wrapped tightly around him. His heart felt warm.

“Hey.”

Janus looked up at him. “Yeah?”

“I love you, too.” 

[lovelyirony]

I am a HUGE winteriron shipper so if that's acceptable for you could you do a fic, however short or long you want with winteriron and the prompt: Russian Bucky. That's it. Russian Bucky. How, why, is up to you but that's the prompt! Thank you!

Bucky does not like that he’s in America again. Even if he is really only here to act as security for Natasha’s new art showing. 

It’s loud, friendly, and he just wants to drink in silence. People never stop talking. 

Natasha’s first night is all the exclusive donors and previous buyers. He knows some of the people. Bruce is actually his favorite American because he’s awkward and doesn’t like talking anyways, but he has a great way with reviews for art and placement of it. 

There’s Clint, who’s a disaster who bought him a tiny bottle of shitty vodka and said “welcome to America! Please don’t kill me,” and Bucky’s not honestly sure why he’s invited because he’s very broke. 

“He entertains me,” Natasha says, scarlet lips pulling into a grin as he watches him nearly trip and fall over an untied shoelace. “And he’s...fun. Very American.” 

“Didn’t know your type was Americans,” Bucky mutters. “The first thing I know you to have bad taste in.” 

“Oh, as if your type is any better,” Natasha mutters.

“And what is my type, exactly?” 

“You don’t have one,” Natasha says glibly, “because you prefer staying forever alone and broody.” 

“I’m not broody.” 

“Your all-black outfit begs difference,” Sharon calls, grinning. “Hey Buck, long-time no-see.” 

“Hi Sharon,” Bucky says, smiling slightly. 

He sees Steve behind her, almost looking like a golden retriever. They had served together in the army when they were young, and Bucky’d had to drag that stupid boy out of too many fights. 

It made them best friends, almost like brothers, and it’s the only reason why he usually adventures out to America. 

“Missed seeing you,” Steve says, bringing him into a hug. “There’s only so many times Sharon will tolerate sushi with me.” 

“He claims that it’s a miracle food,” Sharon says, rolling her eyes. “I just think he likes it because you like it.” 

“I do not!” Steve teases. “Hey, Natasha.” 

“Hey stranger,” Nat says, grinning. “Surprised to see you out of running shorts and tank tops.” 

“You don’t only see me when I’m running,” Steve says, rolling his eyes. “You come to see Sharon about every week.” 

“Yeah but I only have eyes for her,” Natasha says, winking. 

“Stop flirting with my wife.” 

“Then stop being married to such a beautiful woman.” 

Sharon snorts, looking down at her phone, and then back up at Nat. 

“Hey, I’ll be right back. I need to let my cousin in. He’s the one I told you about who liked your newspaper collage-work.” 

Natasha looks over at Bucky for a moment and oh no. She has her match-making look on her. 

“I think you’ll like Tony,” she says grinning. 

“I’m sure he’ll be a good client of yours,” Bucky responds, lips pressing into a straight line. “I don’t need to be dating, Romanov.” 

“Ooh last name, how scary,” she teases. 

Tony is....American. 

He’s already laughing loudly with Sharon about some sort of in-joke, and walks right up to Natasha with a smile. 

“Miss Romanov, you look as wonderful as your art. It’s an honor to make your acquaintance.” 

He then kisses the top of her hand and starts into conversation about how he discovered her art from his assistant, Pepper, and he thought it would be a good fit for his personal home. 

Bucky stays in the background, hoping that this talkative machine would follow along with Nat and distract her for an hour or two. 

And then she turns. 

“Tony...have you met Bucky Barnes? He runs security.” 

“I haven’t,” Tony says, smiling. “Nice to meet you. Your parents name you after a family member?” 

“President,” Bucky answers stiffly. 

“And here I thought you were Russian.” 

“I am. They just hated communism.” 

Tony barks out a laugh. 

“Well, come. Look at art with us and tell me more about yourself.” 

“No,” Bucky states. He then turns on his heel and walks away. 

No sense in giving this guy hope. 

But he’s undeterred. 

While he maintains his space, he still talks to Bucky throughout the event. 

He comes back the next day with two robots to help wrap the works. 

“What,” Bucky says, looking at the two creatures who seem to be bickering. 

“They’re fighting over who gets to put the bow on it,” Tony says. “Dummy, put the bow on. You, I’ll give you a bow to put on. No sense in fighting.” 

“You named them ‘Dummy’ and ‘You’?” 

“Spelled differently,” Tony says. “Dum-E is just...he likes to make oil smoothies, and U has opinions about the alphabet arrangement. Don’t ask them about it. But how are you doing, Bucky?” 

“Fine.” 

“Only fine? We’ll have to change that. Let me take you out for a burger?” 

“No. I don’t like American food. Or Americans.” 

“Can’t blame you there,” Tony says with a sigh, but grins anyways. “Let me know if you do change your mind at all though, Barnes.” 

Yeah, he won’t be. 

-

Except that Nat likes America, and he thinks she found a muse in Clint, because she told Bucky that she’s staying in America for the next six months at least. 

“I hate you,” he says, cursing her out. “Why here?!” 

“Why not?” Natasha says. “Their winters are similar, if not nicer. Besides, you can be friends with Steve and not have to see anyone else besides Clint. And maybe Tony. I like Tony.” 

“Why do you like him?” Bucky groans. “He talks too quickly. He is too American. I don’t trust his teeth.” 

“Don’t trust his dentist then, not the teeth,” she responds with a shrug. “And I like him because he’s good people. Even if he doesn’t seem it. Keep an eye on him for me when he’s around, okay?” 

“What, afraid he’ll overpay for your work again?” 

“I’d like that,” Natasha muses, thinking about the obscene amount of money he had sent her way, under the guise of “her having too much immense talent not to.” 

It was enough to give Bucky quite the generous raise, which was appreciated. But he still didn’t like him. 

-

Tony becomes integrated into their lives with ease. 

He likes improving Clint’s building, checking in on Nat, and invading Bucky’s space. 

It’s not all bad. Sometimes Tony gives him a hot dog, which is good. 

“You’re going to go rail-thin at this rate,” Tony says, shoving a baguette into his hands. “Who goes grocery shopping for you? Mice? Why do you have, like, miniscule portions? I know that Russia is different, but you still get fed.” 

“We sacrifice half our food to the leader of Mother Russia,” Bucky deadpans. “And then we get our yearly tracksuit in return.” 

Tony laughs, and Bucky kind of likes making him laugh. 

Not in that way. Don’t go thinking that. 

“Well, regardless. I think you’re almost conning me into doing this.” 

“What, me? Getting free food? A whole baguette? I don’t think so,” Bucky says. “But next time, give me soup.” 

Tony laughs again. 

-

Bucky didn’t think he’d take him seriously. 

“I wasn’t sure what soups you like or if you have allergies, so I brought four different soups,” he answers. 

“Tony, you didn’t have to do that.” 

“Silence Ice-Pop,” Tony shushes. “This one is black-bean soup, this one is broccoli-cheddar, this one is your standard chicken-noodle, and this one is French onion...” 

“Well come on in, then,” Bucky sighs. “You’re gonna have to help me finish this soup.” 

-

He doesn’t know why he does it. 

But Tony’s bodyguard had a surprise funeral, can’t make it to a high-up event for Tony, and so Bucky volunteers. 

It’s a charity, one that Tony never misses. Ever. 

Natasha asks him to do it. 

“I know you’ll complain and bitch, but genuinely he-” 

“I already told him I’d go,” Bucky says. “Texted him.” 

“You have his number?” Natasha questions, brows furrowing. “I thought you hated him.” 

“Gave me soup. Can’t hate a guy who gives you soup.” 

“Holy shit, are you gonna marry him?” 

“Why would I marry him?” Bucky splutters. “What, because I accepted soup?” 

“One time a guy called you cute, and you told him that he needed to stop revealing so much about himself because you could kill him,” Nat said. “You haven’t even threatened Tony’s life yet! I can’t believe I didn’t put it together! You like-” 

“Do not finish that sentiment,” Bucky threatens. “Do not, if you do-” 

“You like him!” 

“I don’t!” Bucky hisses. “I do not like an American!” 

“You do!” Natasha proclaims, laughing. “Oh my god! You like an American!” 

“Shut up!” Bucky groans. “I hate myself!” 

Natasha cannot stop laughing, wheezing on the couch. “Holy shit!” 

“Do not tell him,” Bucky begs. “Don’t tell anybody.” 

“You’re such a nerd,” Natasha snorts. “I won’t tell anybody for two months. But you have to tell him.” 

“I don’t have to tell him shit,” Bucky scowls. 

“I think you do. I think he could potentially like you.” 

“No. I’ll get over it.” 

Natasha gives him a flat look. 

“You can’t just ‘get over’ a crush.” 

“Yes I can. I’m Russian. We can do it.” 

“No,” Natasha says simply. “Two months, Yasha! Two months!” 

...great. 

Now he has to deal with liking an American. 

[spockandawe]

Hi....If you don't mind me asking, who are your favorite MXTX characters (top 5 from each novel)? And why? I'm sorry if you've answered this question before.

It’s absolutely no problem at all!! I don’t think I’ve been asked this before, but hey, I also have zero object permanence, so it keeps things fresh and new. And it’s interesting to see how my answers change over time! Lemme see, I think I’m going to go in reverse order, because I feel like then I’ll be doing the worst agonizing up front.

TGCF

Fifth favorite: YIN. YU. I know that he’s a minor character and him even making it onto the list is pretty solid performance, but I do feel guilty that he isn’t higher than this. He came out of nowhere in my first reading and punched me in the stomach with emotions. I find his sections so hard to read, and I was DEVASTATED when he died and BEYOND stoked to find out he was still alive in the extras. His story hurts so much! I am weak against characters who have relatively modest goals and still see them snatched away (see also: my next entry) and have to struggle on. I wish wish wish I had a way to see more of how he made his peace with things after being thrown out of heaven, and the nature of the (distant) relationship with Hua Cheng and what happens with Quan Yizhen now that he died in his arms, and still came back anyways, my god!

.

Fourth favorite:  He Xuannnnnn. I have a hard time articulating particulars, but. I love him a lot. I love a character with a grudge, with a deep, painful grudge, where the grudge is hurting him almost as much as it’s hurting the people around him, and setting the grudge aside would also hurt, and then what has any of this been for-- I've used this metaphor for other characters, but I don’t care if I’m overusing it, because I love it. He feels like a character caught in a thorn bush, where simply being there... hurts, but trying to escape or move in any ways is going to hurt worse, and there’s no path forward that doesn’t involve pain. And like... I don’t love the way he hurt Shi Qingxuan (who didn’t quite make this list adfasgdafsd I’M SORRY) but I wouldn’t have liked to see him swallow back down all that pain and set aside everything that happened to his family and fiancee either! I’m always, always soft for characters who have no good path forward and who grit their teeth and set out anyways.

.

Third favorite: MU QING!!!!!!!!!! I have done... extensive screaming about him. And I love him veryvery much. I can already tell that this list is going to have a lot of mean boys on it, and like... no regrets. Especially since this is one of my FAVORITE flavors, an unapologetic mean boy who is rarely (but sometimes!) soft for the people around him, and who regularly tries to do decently by people, but who consistently gets shat upon and misunderstood and accused of acting in bad faith. I screamed when he and Xie Lian finally got to talk their friendship out in the book. I also screamed when I realized how immediately after Xie Lian’s return he started looking out for him again, and how sincerely, despite his horrible attitude about it. I still want to write more fic for him so badly. I love him so much.

.

Second favorite: Xie Lian! What a good boy! The best boy! He’s so sweet and gentle, but also the best fightboy this world has ever seen, and also so gently snarky with the people he loves! I just... really love me some traumatized characters who have trouble recognizing that they can be Loved, and I’m not going to write this whole essay right now, but I think in some ways, he’s the most... passive about his romance, out of all the leads? Shen Qingqiu is aggressively oblivious, but Xie Lian kind of gently shrugs off the idea that he might be Hua Cheng’s special someone, until he finally gets hit with the cluestick. I generally shy away from the idea of a character “earning” love, but he’s maybe the mxtx character who moves me most with ‘you deserve to be loved’

.

Most favorite: Hua Cheng. HUA CHENG. Oh my god, gotta love this boy. Gotta love this devotion. I love a mean boy who is soft for one person, and he EMBODIES it. I mean, I love Shen Jiu, but he barely manages to do the soft thing at all, while Hua Cheng is over here like ‘if I could only be the stone beneath your feet--’ It’s hard to talk about him separately from Xie Lian, because they’re a unit in my head more than just about any other characters on this list are. I don’t want to get this list to get out of control, so I’m not going to scream for too long, but... I could just watch him go forever. I want to write him forever, and that’s a huge aspect of what draws me to some characters.

MDZS

Oh god, I think I lied, I think this book is going to be hardest. Making these choices is AGONIZING.

Fifth favorite: .....Lan Wangji. Oh god, I feel bad about how low he is. But this story is just packed SO full of wonderful characters, and I’m already consumed with guilt over all the characters who aren’t going to make it. I don’t love them less! But my love for characters in this particular story is very evenly distributed. And I think that Wang Yibo’s acting is possibly scoring points with me that the book might not have earned all by itself. Microexpressions and subtle body language add SO MUCH to a character with such flat affect, and I would be drawn to such a closed-off character anyways, but it really helps. And I love, like... the combined subtlety and intensity of his relationships. It’s not that subtle once you know what to look for, and the brother/sworn brother network makes for varying degrees of how much other characters understand of the things he chooses not to explicitly express, and it gives a really interesting character to the way he interacts with the people around him. Also, love me a man with intense separation anxiety.

.

Fourth favorite: Jiang Yanli? I think it has to be Jiang Yanli, but these rankings are hard. So. I just talked about how much I enjoy the flat affect and closed off nature of Lan Wangji? Well, guess what, I also love it when m’girl is just very GENUINELY AND OPENLY an absolute sweetheart of a person, and I love the contrast between her genuinely kind nature and the uncomfortable pressure that her family’s dynamics put on her to start parenting at a very young age. It’s not necessarily a happy situation, but she adores her brothers so much and they adore her so much! And it’s... a very understated element of the story, but after her parents died, her baby brothers went off to war, and one wreaked havoc as a straightforward commander and one of them disappeared for months and returned as a creepy-ass zombie puppeteer. And she STILL dotes on them like before, despite knowing what they’re capable of. Like, yes, Wei Wuxian just raised an army of corpses and forced a man to eat himself, but I shall still boop him on the nose and feed him Soup. How can I not adore energy like that?

.

Third favorite: Wei Wuxian, I think. I do adore him a lot. He gives me some of the same vibes that make me ache most with Xie Lian, where he is trying his best, and is struggling to hold on in the face of lots of suffering, and I find it really interesting that when the suffering peaked, Xie Lian was forced go on because he couldn’t die, while Wei Wuxian... expired. That line about ‘he thought that no matter how large the world was, there was still no place for him’ always sticks with me, and hurts me deeply. Xie Lian had most of his personal attachments stripped away, and was left to wander on his own, while Wei Wuxian still had a number of strong connections left, but abruptly exited life. And that informs their respective trauma so interestingly! The way Wei Wuxian bounces between high energy chaos and drained exhaustion is really fascinating to me, and was the thread that held me attached to the book through a very confusing beginning. And I’m still very drawn to how intensely he loves, whether it’s Xiao Zhan’s fantastic acting, or it’s him busting out with how much he wants Lan Wangji in the middle of the Guanyin Temple scene. He’s a fantastic character, honestly, I don’t think such a convoluted book would have held together very well without a protagonist this strong.

.

Second favorite: Xue Yang :X Look, he’s a good boy and I love him. Who among us hasn’t done a few mass murders that we are completely unrepentant about, but that we would really like to keep hidden from our current boyfriend, actually? Anyways, as always, love me an angry boy who makes terrible decisions for understandable reasons. And I do love a character who is consumed by agonized ragrets (see my next entry), but I DO also love me a character who has no regrets at all and doesn’t even have much interest in trying to justify himself to anyone else around him. Just look at that confidence! Look at him go!!

.

Most favorite: Jiang... Cheng....... I knew he and Xue Yang were going to be at the top, but those were the only parts of this list that were easy. I mean. Love a self-sabotaging angryboy who is also super super sad and keeps hurting himself in his own confusion. And while I love the romantic thread in all of the mxtx books, the agonized family thread in mdzs is one of my favorite parts, and something that I don’t really see echoed in any of the other stories. I need ten million jc+wwx reconciliations, at LEAST. He’s so sad! And so angry! And I want to see him becoming less of that thing, and for Jin Ling and Wei Wuxian to demonstrate very firmly how much they love him, because they do. I am invested in his happiness in a way that goes far and beyond any of the other non-main characters, haha

SVSSS

Fifth favorite: Tianlang-jun. I think? Oh god, but moshang. THIS IS REALLY HARD, I HATE THIS ;-; But especially since writing my fic, Tianlang-jun has really won me over. And like, he already hurt me good in the novel, just thinking about how he was an innocent young guy, just! Trying to have a girlfriend! And instead got trapped in sensory deprivation, body-rotting-hell for twenty years, when he didn’t do anything wrong!!! He suffered, so much! And I live for his intensely strained relationship with Luo Binghe, because it’s! Perfectly understandable and painful, from both of their perspectives! And he wants to hate humans so badly, but in the end, when he’s told that Su Xiyan never betrayed him, he starts helplessly asking the people around him, ‘really? is it really true?’ and then in the end he loses the only family member he has left who cares about him, and it’s just! Everything is terrible! I have a su xiyan au brewing in my head because I can’t stand it! Someone just give this man a loving partner!!!

.

Fourth favorite: Shen Qingqiu. But... moshang??? Goddammit. Anyways, this dumbass. I find him so endearing, in his dumbassery. I sometimes get a bit frustrated with Wei Wuxian for being oblivious, and Shen Qingqiu is just asking for me to react the same way, but I... don’t, for the most part? Because he thinks he has good information, and he’s slow to react to a changing playing field, and I still haven’t read another transmigration novel that strikes the same balance of hypercompetence and intense incompetence :ppp It’s a funny book, and he’s a funny character! And I really vibe with him, in most parts of the story, which covers a pretty darn wide emotional spectrum. Plus, the running internal commentary is choice.

.

Third favorite: Liu Qingge. Look, I’m a woman of simple needs, and sometimes I just need a high-quality fightboy who clearly cares deeply and is absolute garbage at expressing his emotions. I can’t articulate it much better than that. I absolutely howl at the succubus extra, when Shen Qingqiu is talking to Madam Meiyin about his future partner, and Liu Qingge is like ‘oh my god, sHE IS CLEARLY DESCRIBING ME’ and Shen Qingqiu is like ‘haha, liu-shidi, i thought you thought this was stuupidddddddd’. They’re both so dumb. I love them so much. But stupidity plus war god fighting energy has a narrow lead over stupidity and internal commentary track.

.

Second favorite: SHEN JIU. GOD. I’m still arguing with myself over whether he should go first, but Luo Binghe hurts me consistently through the whole entire story, so I think he wins. Shen Jiu just stabs me in the heart at strategic moments. This is it. My ideal mean boy who is soft for one (1) person, and who BOTH does unconscionable things for terrible reasons (someone just. give him a pile of girls to teach, it will be much more pleasant for everyone involved), and who ALSO gets blamed for things he didn’t do even when he tries to act in good faith. It is the best of all painful worlds. And even at the end, when he has a powerful person who wants desperately to protect him, he still tries his hardest to shove that person away, to keep him safe. I’ve got like four aus where he gets to live. I’m so invested in this character, I love him so much.

.

Most favorite: Luo Binghe. He was.... made for me............ Like, the overwhelming amounts of childhood angst were baked in by Shang Qinghua, but the in-story pain and suffering is PRECISELY my jam. I love a character with separation anxiety! I love a character with massive anxieties over being unwanted! Over nobody ever, EVER just choosing him! I love a character struggling with the idea that the person he loves most in the world thinks that he’s intrinsically Disgusting! I love the kind of stubborn determination that leads him to preserve a corpse for five years, desperately hoping for a way to revive it, constantly cooking fresh food, in case, in case he someday wakes up. The way Hua Cheng loves is overpowering, but he’s had time to like... learn to be mellow when he needs to be. Luo Binghe doesn’t have a chill bone in his body, and if he’s acting chill, it’s probably because he’s done some mental math and decided that being more clingy right now will probably get him pushed away harder. I love the combination of manipulative tendencies and a very, very genuine fear of rejection and being unwanted. There is nothing I don’t love about Luo Binghe, including his worst decisions. I love him so so much.

[dont-bee-shy]

Got tagged by the lovely @go-catch-a-chickn an eternity ago and i’m only doing this now but at least i’m doing it i guess?? anyway thank you for the tagging, love!

Rules: Answer these questions and tag as many people as you like (because how many of us realistically have 20 people to tag???)

name/nickname: Alexie (or alternatively Alexis but the s is silent (sorry this is how we do it here)) / Alex

gender: wait you guys have a gender??? i go by she/they but life is confusing and i don’t have many braincells

star sign: scorpio

height: 170cm (i think it’s like 5′7″ or so?)

time: 01:15 in the morning why am i doing this to myself? (edit: someone called me in the midst of doing this and now it’s 2:11 and i hate myself)

birthday: november 1st

favorite bands: the cure, the 1975, arctic monkeys, måneskin, fall out boy, my chemical romance (yes i’m a former emo kid, hit me), wallows

favorite solo artists: how am i supposed to choose? lorde, taylor swift, harry styles, cavetown, mélovin, coeur de pirate, probably a lot of people i’m forgetting right now?

song stuck in my head: no control - one direction

last show: i’ve just finished the last season of shameless

last movie: i rewatched captain america: civil war a few days ago because it was on tv

when did i create this blog: 2014?

what do i post: i mostly reblog tbh, but when i post it’s random tmr thoughts

last thing googled: “supermarkets open on Bastille Day” (i planned a party and forgot to buy drinks ugh i hate bank holidays)

other blogs: i have no other blog this is a trashcan on fire and i’m throwing everything i love in it regardless of whether my editorial line is coherant or not and it’s your problem not mine

do i get asks: a few but i always forget to answer them oops (i would probably forget less often if i had more *wink wink*)

why i chose my url: this is my secret no one is allowed to know that, i can give you my social security number though if you want

following: 181, apparently

followers:  229 wait i have more followers than followings? is this what fame looks like???

average hours of sleep: 5/6

lucky number: i don’t really have one but i prefer odd numbers to even numbers BY FAR

instruments: i have a guitar that i don’t know how to play 

what am i wearing: i’m in my pjs right now, so it’s a black harry potter t-shirt and blue shorts with polka dots (i’m wearing yellow pants tomorrow though!)

dream trip: san francisco, moscow/st-petersburg, go to québec with my mum, go to japan with my sister. go back to the loml that is sweden, i would love to do a road trip all across Europe with a bunch of friends tbh

favorite food: garlic bread, knödel, kniddelen (if you know what those two are please marry me), lemon pie, bahlsen’s contessa, any italian cheese, pesto pasta, anything mexican but make it veggie (where the hell is this list going), melon, a warm slice of apple pie and you put a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top of it, a grilled cheese with a nice pumpkin soup, those pizzas with baby tomatoes arugula and parmesan on top of it

nationality: French with a little Luxembourgish on the side

favorite song: wait by m83 (no i haven’t changed since 2014)

top three fictional universes i’d like to live in: i just want to live on a little animal crossing island please i need a break and also a neighbour who’s a frog

i’m gonna tag some lovely people, sorry if you’ve been tagged on this before oops, @hippygirl14 @ohbluesky @sizzlingballoonbasement @imadetheline @its-tea-time-darling

[sigillaria-svt]

Ferris Wheel

Pairing: Pianist!Wen Junhui x CollegeStudent!Reader

Word Count: 3,455

Genre: fluff, childhood friends, secret feelings, childhoodfriend!Joshua

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

You sit in awe as you watch Jun, your childhood friend, perform in his first-ever solo piano concert. You've watched him grow up learning the piano day in and day out. It's always been his dream and you were happy to see him achieve it.

He was able to secure tickets to the front row seat just for you, and you were happy to see him perform up close. When he finishes all his pieces, he gets up from his seat and takes a bow. Jun smiles back at you before turning around to leave the stage.

After the show, you visit him backstage, bringing him a congratulatory bouquet for his successful concert. "You were great as always, but I'm really glad you managed to get me some front row tickets."

"I picked a good seat, didn’t I?” He says playfully.

Knowing you, of course, you wouldn't miss the chance to show the good side of your face." You hand him the bouquet. “Thank you for giving me a free pass, and at the front row, at that!”

"It's nothing," he says, looking away and playing with his bow tie. "I should be the one thanking you. Your support means a lot to me."

"Ehhhh, why are you being so shy? You should be proud of yourself!”

"I just...I've never performed for an audience like this before," he says. "I'm a little nervous."

You give a short laugh at his statement, but he doesn't seem amused. "Oh come on. You did well, incredibly well for your first concert. The crowd loved it as well. "

"I suppose..."

"Well, you're the one who always wanted to play the piano. How can you not be proud of such a great accomplishment?" you say.

There's a brief silence.

"Thanks..."

Before you can question him any further, he suddenly pulls you into a hug. You return the hug for a while before you both let go.

"Well, I should be off." He says, giving you a small nod.

"Hey, wait! Do you want to grab some food? It's on me. Think of it as a congratulatory gift."

"I can't, I have to practice in a few hours," he says sadly.

"Well, we still have a few hours, we won't eat for long. I insist."

He smiles once more and nods. "Yeah, sounds good."

The both of you make your way to the nearby Chinese restaurant, the one you two always ate at when you were in high school. You lead him to an empty table and begin to order your favorite meals. Soon enough, the two of you are eating your favorite foods and talking about anything that comes to mind.

"How's college?" Jun asks while taking a bite of his food.

"Oh, it's okay," you say. "A little difficult to adjust to, but I'm doing good. I miss hanging out with you. It was way easier when we had so much free time when we were in high school. "

"I missed that too," he says, "But things are certainly way easier now."

"How so?"

"Well, for one thing, I'm a full-fledged pianist now, instead of just a struggling one. Also, the girl I was dating broke up with me."

"What?!” You almost slam your hand on the table. You quickly lower your voice. “Wasn't she heads over heels for you? What happened?"

"Eh, she just tired of waiting. You know how she is."

You nod slowly, but something about the story doesn't feel right. "Waiting for what?"

"Waiting for me to become a success, of course. She said she couldn't wait around forever for me to achieve my goals."

"That's weird..."

"What?"

You purse your lips. "I mean, you've always been famous around the school for being a good pianist, but it's not like you're going to earn money overnight."

"It was for the best anyway. It showed that she was really just after the fame and not... Me." He says sadly, running his spoon through his bowl of soup.

With a burst of energy and anger, you puff your chest. "Hey, don't get yourself down! What are you, huh? You're funny, friendly, a good pianist, handsome, and a pretty good guy! She doesn't know what she lost. Hey, if she ever comes back, don't say yes, alright?!"

"Hah, yeah. Don't worry, I'll hold out for the real thing."

"Yeah, you always do."

You laugh it off, but to be honest, you were a bit disappointed. You held feelings for Jun when you were younger, but let go of him when he found a girlfriend. Now that she broke up with him for a shallow reason, you were so mad. You knew how good of a guy Jun was, and how much he treasured the people that are close to him.

You wouldn't be able to forgive such an insult. Surely he would see that.

"I have to go, my piano teacher is calling," Jun says.

"Alright, take care on your way there."

"I will. Later."

The both of you give a little wave to each other. Jun then leaves you to your own thoughts, while you ponder why you had such a strange feeling about this.

You pay up at the counter before heading back to your dorm.

When you get into the building, you see Joshua hanging out in the dorm lobby. Along with Jun, he was one of your classmates in high school and ended up forming a close friendship as a trio. Joshua ended up going to the same university as you studying psychology, while Jun ended up in a different music university.

"Hey, Josh!"

He looks up at you with a smile, waving his phone at you. "Hey, how was the concert? It's sad that I couldn't go because of exams."

"It was good. I think Jun was really happy to hear that your results came out well." You quickly take a seat next to him, putting your bag on the table. "And you know what? He just broke up with his girlfriend. I didn't see that coming. "

"Really? What for?"

"Shallow reasons. It makes me upset."

"Hmmm." Joshua says, nodding and looking away. "What do you plan on doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if he's broken up with his girlfriend, do you think you could possibly...?"

"What? No! Josh, I..." You unintentionally stutter at the thought. Although Jun was clueless, Joshua knew everything. When you first found out about Jun getting a girlfriend, you cried at his house for hours. You didn’t want to admit it, but you knew you still had a bit of lingering feelings for Jun. "I mean, you know already, right? I let go of him years ago. I thought he'd be better off with you know... Someone better. "

"Someone better? That sounds very final!"

"I'm just saying, that it would be a better path for him."

"Let's hang out with him over the weekend. It wouldn't do good for him to keep thinking about it while he traps himself in practice." Joshua says, flipping through his phone to look for Jun’s contact number.

"Trapping himself in practice? You really think so?"

"Yeah, I do. Just trust me on this one." Joshua says with a sigh.

Well, it's one way to look at it you suppose.

"Let's take him to an amusement park. It's about time we bring out his inner child again."

"An amusement park? I've wanted to go to an amusement park for so long! Alright, let's go!"

You trust Joshua to invite Jun to the amusement park. Although you weren't a fan of the fast rides, you knew that it would make Jun and Joshua happy. The next day, both of you get on a bus from the university to the nearby theme park. The both of you get down just in time for the park to open.

"So, have you been to this amusement park before?" you ask.

"I've been here multiple times, but this is Jun's first time." He says. Joshua looks around, looking for the familiar tall figure. "There he is."

You wave to Jun as he walks towards the two of you, a big smile across his face.

"Hey Jun, I'm glad you managed to get yourself some free time," Joshua says.

"Yeah, I could use a breather," Jun replies.

"Man, these rides really take it out of you, don't they?"

"That's why they're fun." Joshua replies as the three of you may your way to the line to buy entrance tickets. Although the two men are ecstatic, you feel a churning feeling in your core. You’ve never been a fan of heights, and of the three, you were the one that easily got seasick. You knew that this was going to be a long day, but you wanted to make it a good one to cheer up Jun.

Jun looks over at you, who seems to be looking pale at the sight of all the tall rollercoasters. "Are you going to be fine?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." You say. "Just... Never ridden a rollercoaster before. Not exactly the most confidence-inspiring rides. Besides, there's a first time for everything, right?"

"Yeah, there is." Jun replies, giving you a smile.

Your stomach starts doing flips as you remember that you need to get on that ride eventually. Eventually, the three of you get tickets for unlimited rides and head over to the first ride. The three of you get onto the roller coaster, which is about to begin boarding.

"Hold on to your butts!" the attendant jokes, and the two of them have a good laugh. You, on the other hand, simply smile awkwardly.

To be honest, you feel like you're taking the rollercoaster ride to your death.

The ride starts, and you scream the whole time. The roller coaster takes a wild turn through the inversion and while you're going at a pretty decent speed, you don't feel quite right. Over to your right, you see Jun and his large gummy smile.

"This is so fun! I wish I can do this all day!" he screams.

The rollercoaster takes a bunch of twists and turns, throwing you around left and right. You hold on to the restraints for dear life, your knuckles turning white at the effort. Eventually, you let out a deep, heavy sigh as the coaster finally comes to a stop, leaving you disheveled and nervous. Beside you, Jun vibrates in excitement. He's laughing like a kid as the restraints go up.

"Let's do it again!" he says.

You and your best friend laugh, then quickly sober up as you realize that you are at an amusement park after all.

"Let's get on a softer ride before we go back on this one."

"Alright!" Jun says excitedly.

Jun walks ahead of you and Joshua, excited to get on the next one.

Joshua leans closer to you. "If you feel sick, just let me know so I can help calm him down, alright?"

You nod, and follow after Jun.

There's a giant inflatable slide ahead of you that has a giant inflatable ball on it.

"I want to go on that!" Jun squeals.

"That's a lot of fun, huh?" You say back.

After a few minutes of waiting in line, you get onto the giant inflatable slide.

"Come on!" Jun excitedly takes your hand and pulls you to the slide.

You sit down in the middle of the slide, and let out a laugh as the inflatable ball inflates in front of you. As you and Jun glide down the slide, you look at your childhood friend. His bright, beautiful smile makes you feel at ease. Slowly, steadily, you let all your worries and concerns wash away. Compared to his pale face just after the concert, he seems happier now. That's enough to satisfy you.

As you both laugh and have an enjoyable time, the three of you ride the giant inflatable slide again and again. After about half an hour, you finish off the giant slide and get onto the next ride.

To those that don't know Jun, he may seem like a calm and cool pianist, but in reality, he's the most energetic man-child you know. He screams with joy with practically every ride he gets on.

You and Joshua manage to calm him down by convincing him to eat lunch and go on soft rides to prevent indigestion. You all sit together on the side of the park, munching on the lunch Joshua brought from home.

"After all these years, your mom's sandwiches are still the best, Josh." You say.

"Aren't they though?"

You smile and nod in reply. You take another bite of the sandwich, enjoying the stringy meat as it slides down your throat.

"I'll go buy some drinks." Joshua says. "Anything you guys want?"

"I'll have orange juice." You say.

"I'll have one of those drinks too, please." Jun says.

"Alright, I'll be back." Joshua says.

You and Jun continue to eat and chat as you wait for Joshua. You take a bite of the sandwich and start up the conversation. "Man, it feels like yesterday we all first met in music class. That was such a different time, you know?"

"Yeah..."

"Joshua and I were learning guitar for fun, and somehow we both ended up in majors completely unrelated to music.

"Yeah, I remember. Good old days." Jun says, his tone suddenly turning somber. "I just... Don't know what I'm going to do after college."

"What do you mean? You're going to be a professional pianist! I'll go to all your shows and buy all your releases!"

"Oh, you will?"

The two of you laugh as you take another bite of your sandwich. "Well I mean, if it gets expensive, I'll split the cost with Josh"

Moments later, Joshua comes back with the drinks.

"Here you are." He says, handing you each a small cup of orange juice.

"Thanks, Josh." You say, taking a sip from your cup.

The three of you finish your lunch and walk around before getting on the merry-go-round that's in the center of the park. As you slowly turn, you think about how much has happened since you first met. Your friendship with Joshua and Jun has strengthened and gotten closer to what it is now. You were happy to have these guys with you in your life. You pull out your phone and take a selfie with the three of you on the ride.

'Best friends.' You think to yourself with a smile.

You look up at the Ferris wheel. There are a few people still waiting to get on, along with a little girl and her mother.

"Let's get on the Ferris wheel later on during sunset." Joshua says. "The view of the city will be beautiful during that time."

"Yeah, a Ferris wheel sounds fun." You reply.

For the next few hours, you and your friends ride all the rides, eat all the food, and enjoy every moment you can. Even though you and Joshua are almost out of energy, Jun is as happy and energetic as ever.

He mainly uses his phone to take pictures and videos of himself. It came to a point where you could barely stand because of the dizziness, so you and Joshua had to stop him from riding any of the roller coasters.

Eventually, the sunset comes around, and you three fall in line for the Ferris wheel. Just as the three of you were about to step in, Joshua pulls out his phone as if to pick up a call.

"Oh man, wait I need to take this call." He says, even though you see no sign of a call on his screen. Joshua pushes the both of you in. "Go on without me."

You didn't have time to think before he closes the door and leaves you and Jun alone in the cart. The Ferris wheel turns, taking you and Jun higher at a slow pace. Somehow, being alone with him makes your heart beat faster. You look over at Jun, who's looking out to the city as the orange light hits his face. It's a new experience for you, being this close to him. The two of you don't say a word, just take in the view.

"Hey, I want to tell you something." Jun says quietly.

You turn your head to him, who seems to sit uncomfortably in his place.

Jun takes a deep breath in. "I'm afraid that if we stay friends, I'll lose you as we grow up. You're a really important person to me, and I don't want to lose you."

A lump forms in your throat. "Don't worry about that." You tell him. "We'll always be friends. No one is taking you away from me."

Jun looks down for a moment, and then looks back at you he stares at you for a moment, hesitating. "I love you." He blurts out.

You stare at him in shock while he quickly adds, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that! Just forget I said it!"

"No, don't--"

Before you can say anything further, Jun buries his face into his hands.

You say "Jun?"

"I can't take this anymore." He says in frustration. "We can still be friends if you want. I'll leave you alone if that's what you want."

"Wait, Jun, look at me."

Jun raises his face, refusing to look you in the eyes.

"Calm down, you haven't even heard my reply yet." You lean forward to put your hand on his knee. "You love me? In... That way? "

"I... I'm sorry, but yes."

"Oh..." You exhale. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I don't know!"

"Well, I'm glad you finally said it." You laugh. "All this time I've been holding back because I thought you would never like someone like me."

"That's not true! I do like you! I probably just held back saying it because I didn't want you to leave."

"Well, why would I leave, Jun?" You ask. "You're basically my best friend, and I'm happy spending time with you."

"But, what if I change?"

"You won't."

"What if something makes you so mad at me, that you won't want to be with me anymore?" He says softly, opening himself up to be vulnerable for the first time in years.

"We've had dozens of fights ever since we were kids. But I'm still here."

"What if it's worse than those?"

"Well, we'll deal with it then."

"But what if it's something you can't fix?"

"Then I guess we won't deal with it." You say. "We'll just accept it when it happens."

"Oh." He exhales. "That... That sounds a little bit easier than I thought it would be."

"Easier?" You laugh in disbelief. "Of course it's easier. If things get to a point where we can't deal with it, then we'll still accept each other.”

"Yeah..."

"We'll get through it together."

"I know we will."

Jun links his legs with yours, gently playing around with his fingers.

"I was really scared that I would lose you to someone else." He says.

"Like who?" You laugh.

"Like, maybe even a boy you met at the park."

"That's not gonna happen, I promise." You assure him.

"I know."

"How are we going to explain this to Joshua when we get down?"

"He'll probably figure it out even if we don't say anything." Jun says. "He's pretty smart."

"True..."

Before you know it, the Ferris wheel stops and the two of you exit. When you get down, you see Joshua on his phone on one of the benches. He looks up at the both of you with a smile. You return his smile and walk over to him.

"Hey, guys." He says. "How did it go?"

"It was good!" You answer.

Joshua looks over at Jun, who seems to be pretending that nothing happened. "Say what, let me take a photo of you guys. It's both your first time at this park, we need to document this."

You look at both of your young faces and give each other a look. After a brief moment, when you understand that the other is going through with this, you nod. Joshua takes a photo of the both of you with the Ferris wheel in the background, a large grin on his face

"Perfect." He says, returning his phone to his pocket. "Let's go and take a break at the cafe."

Joshua walks ahead of you and Jun, and you both follow. Jun shyly links his pinky with yours, swinging his arms around happily.

"Thank you for coming with me, I really had a good time here." He says.

"Anytime." You smile. - END -

[haiyuta]

|| sugarbaby.com || bang chan

Summary: Struggling college student Y/n is on her last year of college as the bills stack she’s in a tough situation. Her roommate recommends her a website for local sugar daddies. That's where she meets Mr. Bang Chan a producer who is just a nice guy that has a lot of money.  

word count: 5.1k || genre: smut, lots of smut, kissing, dry humping, light choking, praise kink, soft dom chan, like soft, like he’s a caring daddy btw, light barely their daddy kink. 

a/ n: the end plot is so sloppyyyy but I put lots of plot and love and smut this could be better but its 5k of hard work so enjoy yall~

Chewing on your lip you eyed the website your finger hovering on and off the signup button.

Sugarbabys.com the website read on the front page in a quote read "where sugar babies meet high-quality Sugar daddies".

Taking your finger away you gave it a thought all the scenarios going through your head. What if it didn't go well? What if the men were creepy? Your friend already gave you tips 'meet in a public place' 'only if you want to you have to' things like that.

Your bank account was desperate though. Between school and working, you were left with little money. Lingering in the back of your brain you knew you couldn't the reality of having to borrow more money from your friend making you cringe.

Were you desperate enough for money to even sign up for this site? It was something you considered before knowing a few girls who used the website your roommate included for a while until she got what she wanted her debt paid off.

'Its easy just sign up it couldn't hurt' she explained to you. You grimaced it could hurt the many thoughts popped up in your head bad and good.

Your finger hovered over the signup button with great reluctance decided to sign up. Entering your email and information you looked at the rules. It was simple enough the men contacted you based on profiles near them. They recommend you do a date in public for safety reasons etc.

Some of the profile content was questions like the financial level you needed and what you could provide and some small information about yourself.

Your fingertips hovered over the keys writing some info about yourself.

"Hello I'm a graduating student soon with ambitions to join the workforce soon financial help would be the main  and I am very open with new options and experiences"

Finishing off with some fun facts age and a pretty picture your friend took of you. etc you clicked the finished profile you sat back looking at the website shaking your head you closed your laptop work was going to be early tomorrow.

You didn't check the website but a lingering message sat in your inbox.

As the week went on it a few messages popped in your inbox with a variety of guys some seeking immediate sex for money, some promising you the world but then there was one message.

Bang: Hello I'm sure you got many messages you're very pretty I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me. I'll pay of course and see if we are matchable. If not just ignore this.

The message made you quirk your eyebrow it felt real and raw in a way the others didn't. And with no picture, you decided to go and message 'Bang' back.

You: Thanks for messaging me I would love to just send your phone number and I'll talk to you more.

Nerves in your stomach grew as you waited for his message. A night went by until his reply.

Bang: Thanks so much here's my number can't wait to talk to you more :)

You've been texting back and forth with Chan for a week till he scheduled a date setting a date that was good for both of you.

You were nervous your stomach turned with butterflies, the restaurant you were in was a fancy Italian restaurant downtown it had deep mood lighting with a clean crisp look to it.

"May I help you," the hostess gave a kind smile.

Shifting in your tight black dress your own but the gold necklace with a nice handbag were thanks to your roommate.  "Um yes," you said nervously "I have a dinner date with Mr. Bang," you said.

Looking at the list she nodded "oh yes he's waiting for you," she said leading you to the back.

Walking through the restaurant your stomach twisted leading towards the table. Questions ran through your mind. Why were you even doing this? It was to late to back down now you thought.

"Here you go," she gestured to the table. Laying your eyes on him you were slightly taken aback at his appearance. He was handsome.

Looking up from his phone a handsome smile lit his face. Slipping the device into his pocket he got up quickly.

"Let me," he gave a sheepish laugh moving toward you. The smell of his cologne filled your senses it was nice really nice.

"Thank you," you said sitting putting your loaned clutch on the table. Drinking in his features you noted he had sandy blond hair, deep dimples, and perhaps an accent. Dressed simply in a black button-up and black jeans expensive chan sat handsomely on his neck.

An awkward silence filled the table until he chuckled "I'm sorry I didn't even introduce myself I use Mr. Bang on my profile but you can call me Chan," he said. Yup, definitely an accent you noted.

His friendly smile radiated causing you to let a small smile "I'm Y/n thank you for taking me out". More like thanks for messaging me and taking me to a restaurant normally college boys would take you out to the best they could do. A local taco joint close to the university which was amazing but you did yearn for something romantic.

"You were beautiful I had to," he flirted with a charming smile. Stomach knotting at the word beautiful and how his foreign accent whispered them out.

"Thank you," you beamed shifting in your seat. The more you talked to him the more comfortable you became with him.

"So, you work in the music industry," you asked wanting to get to know him. Quickly thinking of his profile on the website. Young, producer and money to spend. The website though matched you and you couldn't directly message them until they choose you. Chan would be snatched up quickly if any sugar baby could choose.

"I do I'm a producer I also sing and rap a bit," he explained, "its something I like to do a lot" he added.

"That sounds like a lot of fun," you giggled poking at your food already full from the soup and salad but wanting more.

"It's long hours of editing and writing music," he perked up his eyebrow you noted he had a small cut in his eyebrow. "Hearing my music be sung by artist and people loving my lyrics is all worth it."

"But it's my passion but sadly my passion is mostly inside so it's hard to meet people," he explained eyeing you.

"May I ask why a guy like you would be on a sugar baby website," you said hoping you weren't overstepping your boundary. "I mean not that you can't be on these sites," you quickly blurted out feeling warm at the question you asked.

He laughed a little "I'm not a 40-year-old businessman with a wife and kids," he smirked out.

"Kind of," you trailed off staring at him.

"Well some of my friends were doing it recently saying they met some great people," he said "I also like showering my girl with money might as well see if this will work." he finished.

"Ah okay," you hummed eating some food.

"I'm just a nice guy who has a lot of money," he grinned his cheeky dimple popping out.

You snorted at the comment "wow," you laughed a little.

"Sorry was that cringy," he gave a sheepish smile.

You nodded covering your mouth trying not to laugh out loud.

"Anyway what about you," he asked.

You explained a bit about yourself adding what he needed to know you were almost out of college the struggle to finish was getting harder. He understood explaining he came to Korea from Australia looking for a fresh start. He found his talent when he sold one of his songs for the first time. You were shocked that it was called "Why so lonely" a classic a song that use to be on your freshman playlist every day.

The experience was new but something you would soon treasure a good conversation a lovely meal and getting money for it.

"Did you like the meal," he asked eyeing you placing his black card in his wallet writing down a quick tip.

"It was amazing," you gave a gentle smile. A little bummed this dinner had to end. Also anticipating if he wanted to continue this.

"May I drive you home," he asked giving you his arm. You smiled nodding slipping your arm through his arm.

The small private parking lot on the side as you browsed the expensive cars till you landed on his BMW with admiration a beautiful car that fit his aesthetic. Playful yet luxurious. Sliding into his car you shivered at the cold leather seats.

"Where do you live," he asked.

"Student apartments right next to the university," you explained "just that general area," you said hitting yourself of how dumb you sounded.

The car ride had light chatting he played some music from he wrote. You were shocked to find out it had some of your favorite artists under it. Learning he did some music for a trio group named 3racha.

Coming up to your apartment you sighed glancing at him "thank you so much," you paused letting out a soft "sir" at the end of it.

A moment passed over the both of you until Chan let out a laugh "Sir," a deep cute laugh.

A blush went to your cheeks at his laugh"You're cute enough you don't have to try okay," he assured his you pressing his hand to your cheek gently.

Your face was warm but his hand felt warmer. "Sorry about that," you said softly cringing at yourself. How natural this felt was amazing.

"May I kiss you," he whispered out his lips so close.

Your eyes connected to his light brown eyes your lips wanting to touch his "please."

It was a swift moment as his lips capturing your own. It was soft as he greedily consumed your kiss you were shocked at how good it was to be kissed.

Pulling gently apart your eyes flickered to his noting his eyes were so warm and deep you could drown in them.

"Um thank you for everything," you said feeling warm and frazzled at him. Opening the car door you could feel your heartbeat a little faster and your mind swirl with want.

"Your welcome baby girl," he winked watching you with as you trailed yourself up the steps and into the apartment building.

Its been a few months since your first date with Chan. Honestly, it felt too good to be true. Soon as got home he texted you some information and the next thing that morning a pretty number with 4 digits now sit in your account.

It took all your will not to scream in a pillow at the money. That's what you make in a month for a date.

As the relationship continued Chan was giving you money for your attention dates, kissing, sex all of the above. Honestly, he could pay you nothing and you would still jump at the opportunity to sleep with him. You shuttered a little thinking of the sex simply put it was amazing.

Some basic rules were gently inforced. 1. You or have the right to end it at any time 2. Stressed the fact that this was an exclusive relationship. Light rules but Chan was very laidback.

Currently, you were in a store way too expensive well use to be way too expensive picking out a dress that would look good for this event with Chan. "This one," you hummed walking out in a cream-colored dress. It hugged your ass but the color was sort of off-putting.

Chan sitting on the seat in the private dress area leaning back his hair messy and untamed with a touch of curls. Your fingers always itched to touch those curly locks.

"I don't love it," he hummed eyeing you up and down. "Just the color it looks amazing on you though," he grinned. Sitting next to a pile of dresses that you both didn't like very much.

You frown this was the fifth dress you've tried but to be honest you didn't love it that much either.

"Okay I have a few more," you bit your lip as you went back to the dressing room. The event was tomorrow night performance of some underground rappers and Chan said he might perform with 3racha if he had time. Being on his arm for this event was important.

You shyly claiming you didn't have many dresses for something like that.

Sipping into the dress that caught your eye the most a deep rose gold dress with just a touch of sparkle. Eyeing yourself you smiled at how the dress fit you the price tag with the glaring 1k on the tag.

Slipping out the dressing room your gazed landed on Chan his eyes ran up and down your body. "Wow," he whispered out getting up to inspect the dress. "Do you like it," he asked placing his hand on your hip.

"I love it," you paused eyeing you and Chan in the mirror admiring how you looked and how he looked next to you. His eyes glazed with lust. "It's pricy though," you hummed looking at the price.

Chan leaned over kissing your temple "you know I'll buy it for you," he grinned pushing his hips closer to you.

"You spoil me," you hummed posing lightly in the mirror. It complimented your skin the way it fell made you feel utterly amazing.

"You look beautiful," he said pressing his body against yours. His chin resting atop your head as he stared at your dress in the mirror. You giggled at the reflection. He looked at you with an admiring lust-filled look. You perked up when you felt his bulge pressing against your ass.

Glancing at him through the mirror his deep brown eyes basically told you what he wanted. You've had sex with Chan before and to say the least you would fuck this man for free. You were just lucky enough he was paying your tuition with a sweet payday every other Friday.

You pushed your ass into him feeling his eagerness waiting for you. "We shouldn't," you hummed glancing at him. Leaning over he hummed his lips connecting with your neck. You sighed at the kisses leaning away for more access.

"We just need to be quiet," he whispered in your ear. Grabbing your hand he lead you to the small bench settling you on his lap.

His lips captured yours hungrily your mouths moved in a gentle rhythm. Pulling away Chan looked at you grabbing your exposed thigh placing you across his jeans. "Come on baby we don't want to wrinkle this beautiful dress up," he said pushing the dress up.

A small mew slipped out of you at the feeling of Chan lightly bouncing his leg. Wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself you moaned as he added more pressure to your clothed slit.

Your body was heating up at the feeling "come on baby girl," Chan whispered in your ear. Biting your lip you squeezed your eyes closed feeling your stomach twisting at the sensation. God, he got you off so good your mind raced with want.

Clenching your thighs around his you gave a soft moan as you rocked against his leg. The lewd act of humping his leg made your stomach twist with want.

Chan let out a light chuckle you gave him a small embarrassed glare at your current position. "Don't pout you look adorable," he gave a small smirk. "We better finish this off before we are found," he grinned as he proceeded to bounce his leg.

You were already damp as it seeped into Chan's black jeans. Pushing your head into his neck you let out small whimpers as you got closer to the edge. Ready to fall any moment but Chan holding you so tight you never wanted to let go. Pushing down on his thigh you gave a deep moan as you desperately humped his leg.

Leaning over you placed your lips moaning in the kiss. Your eyes twisted shut as waves of heat rolled down your body.

Chan pressed his lips hard against you as you sloppy kissed him. You came down from your high it took a moment but you felt Chan hand run up and down your back.

Biting your lip you gazed up at him giving him a light smile "we should get out of here," you hummed pushing your dress back down and getting up,

You lightly grimaced at his leg with had a decent size wet mark on them. "Fuck sorry," you said also eyeing his bulge.

He hummed grabbing your hand "don't worry about it lets just buy the dress and go back to my place," giving you a wink.

Your stomach stirred thinking of going to his house with him laying in his bed as he pushed your deep into his sheets "Let's," you grinned eagerly.

"How does it look," you asked your roommate coming from your room in the dress you bought last week. It took a dry clean to get the smell of sex from the dress but it still looked clean and new.

Her gaze went from her phone taking a double-take at your dress. "Look at you in that dress," she hummed. Smiling you gave a small twirl the gold shimmering.

"I know I love it so much," you hummed going to the mirror to check your makeup and hair.

"So Y/n how's Chan," she said leaning on the couch her eyebrow raised at you.

"He's good he's taking me to a club tonight," you said.

She nodded "so you don't have feelings for him or anything right," she hummed out looking at you.

Pausing you stared at your eye makeup looking at her through the mirror image you felt your heart leap "of course not he pays me," you told her.

"Yeah I mean your college semester is almost over when will you break it off," she asked. You paused wondering if you would. You did get mostly what you wanted. Clothing, money, your schooling has been paid up to last semester. The thought of breaking it with Chan made your stomach drop.

Before you could answer you heard your phone ring. Grinning you picked it up avoiding your roommates grilling question.

"Hey baby are you ready," Chan spoke.

Glancing at your makeup and outfit you looked good. Shyly remembering what you did in this dress earlier that week. "Yeah I'm good," you hummed out.

"Great I'm downstairs," he said.

"Okay bye," you said clicking off the phone.

Your roommate was still looking at you "you're like into into him," she commented.

"I'm into his money," you easily lied to yourself. The money was great the clothing, the tuition all was amazing. But Chan as a person he was the best of all the gifts. Repressing these growing thoughts was the best you could do.

"Sure you are," she said pulling out up her Netflix. "Just let me know when you move into with him so I can find a new roommate," she teased.

Rolling your eyes you stuck out your tongue  "will do but won't happen," you said leaving.

"Have a nice night," she called out.

"Thanks," you yelled back leaving. Your stomach turned excited to see Chan. Hurrying downstairs you quickly came outside to see Chan leaning on the side of his car. You eyed him loving his outfit.

"Hey," you grinned going to him wrapping your arms around his neck. Your eyes held his from the told of his dirty blond hair to the way he had a smile chain around his neck and his signature black style.

"Aw you missed me," he grinned a small dimple popping out.

"Always," you flirted back.

Giving you a quick peck he opened the door for you. The drive to the small club was nice his hand firmly on your thigh as he navigated the roads driving up to the club.

"You'll meet some of my friends just fellow producers," he explained. The word date stuck to your brain well you were his date. The words girlfriend would be amazing to hear out his mouth.

"Do your friends have any sugar babies," you asked out the blue. Remembering he told you months ago some of his friends use the site.

He pursed his lips "some do some have two or more," he explained closing the door on the side parking.

Taking his arm nerves bubbled up in your stomach as you entered the low lit club. It was loud with live music on the stage was a male he had dark black hair with deep black makeup and he was rapping.

"That's Jisung he's a close friend and producer," Chan said leading you toward the back. The club was lowkey as people enjoyed the fast rapper on the stage.

"He's really good," you called out to Chan.

He nodded "yeah we are underground rappers are normally producers but we like to stay out of the limelight," he added. "I'll be on stage in a bit hope you'll cheer for me," he grinned.

"Always," you grinned. Sipping on the drink you were introduced to lots of people Felix an upcoming solo artist in the company.

"Time to get on stage baby girl," Chan hummed giving you a light kiss on your lips. His eyes lingered on you for a moment "After my set will get outta here," he said.

"Sounds good," you replied.

Felix stayed next to you as you two chatted while Chan was in the back. "Yeah, Chan told me a lot about you."

You nodded "can I ask about," you asked curiously.

Felix nodded his head "just you're really good for him is what I'm going to say," he explained.

Before you knew it the lights went down once again as Chan got on stage with Jisung and another male "who's that," you asked Felix.

"That's Changbin he is just an underground rapper Chan likes to promote with they call themselves 3racha," he explained.

You watched Chan on stage it was like he was a natural. His smile lit the stage his outfit clean making him look fashionable and handsome. That messy hair was darkening.

Your heart speeds up as you watched his performance him bouncing on stage, the way he hyped up the crowd and his fellow rappers.

Chan never really talked about the performing aspect of this. You were transfixed on the performance the lyrics, his movements it was all amazing. Then cheers filled your ears Chan had a small layer of sweat on his forehead "thank you for coming everyone we have so many new acts tonight please keep a lookout for them," he yelled in the mic.

"They were amazing," you said excitedly.

"Yeah, I love watching them perform," Felix agreed. "It doesn't happen often but when it does it's always great," he praised his friends.

Soon after Chan came back to the table with Jisung and Changbin behind him. A layer of sweat on all of them. "Guys I want you to meet Y/n," he said. "My girlfriend," he said glancing at you for a second.

Your eyes widen at the work girlfriend but decided to act cool "um Hi guys I love your music Chan's showed me some samples," you said.

"Ah thank you so much welcome to our little circle Chan's been meaning to introduce us to you," Jisung said giving a wide smile.

"Has he well my boyfriend is so mean not introducing me to his friends sooner," you side-eyed Chan. You felt Chan wrap his arm around your waist.

"Well we should all get together for some food soon," Felix added.

"That would be great," Chan said slipping his arm around your waist. "Sorry to be rude me and Y/n have to dip," Chan said. Giving his friends a few fist bumps he pulled you out the dark club soon after.

The cool night hit you giving you some much-needed space to breathe. "So Chan girlfriend," you quirked an eyebrow stepping away from his. Your insides turned at the word.

"I'm sorry that just slipped out," he spoke quickly apologizing, a red from the tips of his ears to his cheeks maybe from performing but it made him look different. Vulnerable to you like a confession. "I meant it I'll admit it," he added.

There was a pause as you looked at him and he looked at you. Before you knew it your lips were on his. His plush lips felt so good your heart beating rapidly at his confession and you think you got your answer across. He wrapped his arms around your waist pressing deeply into the kiss.

Pulling apart you gazed up at him he had a handsome smirk on his face. "your place," you bite your lip.

He hummed "I gotta hear it one time," he raised an eyebrow.

"Can my handsome boyfriend take me to his place," you admitted your arms thrown around his neck.

Grabbing his keys he and you hurried to his car. You praised his performance as you rode to his place. His hand now firmly placed entwined in your hand.

Stumbling into his condo you and his lips were attached to one another. Closing the door behind him you giggled as his hand slide through your once neatly curled hair now messy from the night.

Grabbing your hand you lead him to his bedroom it had deep blacks and grey al round. Your lips met in a messy haze of lust.

"Fuck you do things to me," Chan whispered pulling his lips away from you. His fluffy hair was now matted to his forehead attractively from his performance those brown eyes of his blazing with want.  

Sitting on his bed eyeing you from the high ground. "Look what you've done," he chuckled out touching himself. Your fingers itched to unzip him and help him.

"Can I," you asked reaching for his zipper.

"Ask properly," he leaned his hands behind him his hooded eyes stared you down.

"Please daddy," you whined out  On your knees, you unbuttoned his pants revealing Calvin Klein's you loved so much. When you got a peek of those they really set you off.

Slowly touching the hard outline you licked your lips in concentration as you teased him from the base circling around the tip feeling he was wet.

"Fucking hell Y/n," his hips involuntary jerked up to your touch. Your fingers raised under his black tee feeling his solid abs under your fingers tips.

"I love your body," you hummed feeling his stomach circling little shapes right above his waistline.

"Yeah," he stared down at you with hunger loving the praise that you gave him. Something you learned early about Chan is praise could get you a long way. Your nails dragged down his abs loving the feeling of them under your fingertips.

Pulling him out you admired his length. You gave his slick head a small kiss as you gently bobbed.

Chan lifted his hips letting you slip more into his mouth. "Fuck," he moaned as he started to hit the back of your throat.

"Relax your throat Y/n," he said gently brushing your hair. Chan gently rolled his hips deeper in as you relaxed your throat. You lightly choked on it pulling off quickly. You blushed realizing even with the training you couldn't take him very far.

"Sorry," you flushed embarrassed you couldn't even deep throat him.

Pulling you onto the bed Chan's eyes were gentle and lustful. He lightly patted your head lovely "you got better," he hummed. Grabbing your wrist he gently took it placing gentle kisses across your wrist. He stared at you with a smoldering look of want.

Leaning down his mouth attacked your neck you felt so close to him you could hear his heart race just like yours. His dick hard against your thigh so close to your entrance.

"Chan I need you," you moaned in his ear as he left wet kisses across his neck.

Pushing your dress up his fingers went to your panties taking them off "where do you need me," he groaned. His finger went across your slit petting you lightly.

"Right there," you moaned body heating up from the petting. He pulled your hips so close to him "please chan," you hummed desperate him to fill you.

He gave a cheeky smile "no need to beg," his Australian accent deep and thick. He grabbed your leg hiking you up. Hooking your leg around his hip as he entered you. The feeling of him stretching you making you wince as you took him between your folds.

"Ah fuck," he cursed out his face twisting into pleasure. His nose scrunched up in pleasure as his hips rocked into you.

Pushing your head into the pillow you let out mews of pleasure as he gave gentle thrust. The closeness of him in you made your head twirl. "Harder," you panted feeling him almost hitting that sweet spot.  

You felt his hips pace start to pick up as he went deeper. "Ah," you moaned out feeling the tingle of an oncoming orgasm come. You pushed the feeling down trying to savor the feeling of the pleasure.

Looking up at Chan his mouth slightly slacked as he focused on his thrusts fuck he was handsome you thought. A vulnerable look of want and pleasure twisted on his face.

He looked down at you a small smile lit on his lips "you look hot on your back for me." His words made your stomach twist with want and love.

"May I," he hummed his fingers wrapping around your neck. Your stomach tingled with want something about choking made you excited.

"Please," you begged.

Wrapping his hand on the side of your throat made you lick your lip making your head dizzy. Honestly, you didn't know you had a choking kink until Chan introduced you to it.

"Thank you, daddy," you hummed loving the way he pressed lightly on your throat his thumb gently tracing your windpipe. His thrust hit hard as he tightens his hold restricting your breathing.  

"Your welcome baby," he said thrusting into you deeper. Lifting into him you enjoyed the way his body pressed into you.

"I'm close," you moaned out feeling him hit that spot over and over making your eyes roll back.

"Hold your breath baby," he said tightening his hold. His pace got faster as he chased his own orgasm small groans left his lips lovely. "Fuck," he moaned "You feel so good," you moan feeling the sudden warmth of his cum spurt out. The warmth of it pushed you over the edge.

Clutching your leg behind his back black and white spots filled your vision. Chan let out sensual groans as he came down from his high. His hand released your neck as he went to pet your hair. 

Shifting your leg you felt him pull out of you. You bite your lip smiling at the feeling of him pulling you close. 

“Fuck,” he moaned taking off his shirt laying on the silk sheets. You turned to him a grin on his face. 

Wrapping his arm around your midsection he curled up to you. “Chan you smell like sweat,” you whined at the smell. 

“You know you love it,” he grinned as you pushed your face into his curly hair. 

“Mmmhh,” you hummed feeling him pet your head as his fingers up and down your body.