#as i was writing tags 3 days grace came on

[macabr3-barbi3]

God, That's Good

Chapter 7: Wait

Alastor tries to ease Lucifer's impatience, and Vaggie comes by for a favor.

Tags: more brooding, banter, A PROPER KISS

Before I rant about my writing wife some more, I do want to advise that once we get past this chapter, things will be getting quite a bit darker and more explicit. There's murder; there's blood; there's cannibalism; there's a little sex (not dark, but still warranting a warning I think LOL). If you know the musical/movie I'm sure you have a vague idea of what's coming. Be mindful of these things from chapter 8 onwards- I'll make sure to put specifics in the tags for each chapter but PLEASE don't read if you think these things might be triggering or upsetting to you.

Back to our regularly scheduled vibes- as always, huge thanks to @fraugwinska for helping me stick to a normal schedule and being one of my absolute best friends and most enthusiastic supporters 😍 ALSO thank you to everyone that has liked/reblogged/commented- this AU has me in a chokehold and I'm stoked that others are enjoying reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it

PSSSST: Wednesdays have even more to look forward to! If you love Alastor being a questionable hottie as much as I do, check out @hazelfoureyes with A Doe in Fall that is ALSO updating on Wednesday evenings! I promise I'm very normal about this story and Hazel's writing in general (she said, lying, being very not normal about either thing)

Chapter 1 🥧 Chapter 2 🥧 Chapter 3 🥧 Chapter 4 🥧 Chapter 5 🥧 Chapter 6  🥧Chapter 7

Despite her promise to visit soon, it’s a fortnight later and the Beadle still has not come by Lucifer’s barbershop.

He would be the first to admit that he broods on it. Between customers of his now booming business, he spends hours sat in his chair staring at himself in the mirror, trying to find the remnants of the man he used to be. He watches the tendons in his hands move as he shaves the gentlemen of New Orleans, thinking that they surely were not the same hands of Damien Diggory though they remained on his body all the same. Families came and went through his door, constantly reminding him of what he had lost, what the Beadle and Adam had to pay for, making his unease at her absence grow more every day.

He sat now in his empty shop with one of his razors in hand, staring down at the blue of his eyes reflected on the blade. He felt empty, numbness creeping from the pit of his stomach to his limbs and making his whole body feel like a hollowed out shell of a person- he looked the same, sounded the same, but the substance inside him was either missing or in the process of rotting where it sat. Charlie was still out of his reach, his revenge on hiatus until the Beadle saw fit to grace his shop with her presence. Everything was at a standstill, and the lack of activity beyond shaving was making him a madman, always pacing around the upstairs, approaching the entrance to his family’s old apartment and retreating like a coward.

A creak of the floor alerts him to the door opening, three soft knocks letting him know that it’s Alastor. He can hardly look the man in the eyes these days after he had embarrassed himself that night two weeks ago, when he had tripped into Alastor’s lap and pulled him into a kiss. It was embarrassment more than anything; thinking that he had reciprocated had been nothing but a figment of Lucifer’s drunk imagination, as Alastor hadn’t mentioned it since. Sometimes his eyes will fall on the younger man while Alastor is busy doing something else, and he uses those stolen moments to learn the curves of his face, imagining the blade skimming over his cheeks if he ever gave him the chance to give him a shave. 

Alastor comes behind the chair, leaning his elbows on the back above Lucifer’s shoulders. “I thought you had no customers today,” he says softly, watching Lucifer in the mirror. “What are you doing up here, hm? Plotting?” He smiles slyly, the corners of his mouth turning up and giving him a mischievous look. “Or pouting?”

“It’s been a fortnight,” he laments, snapping the razor closed and placing it on the stand beside him. “Why has she not come?” He stands from the chair and starts to pace- surely he looks like a madman, stalking between the apartment door and the sizable chest that held his spare towels and aprons, hands taking through his hair. 

Alastor sighs, his smile still in place. “Oh dear, a tantrum. How unbecoming. And just when I’ve started to think you were respectable.”

Lucifer scoffs. “Come now, Alastor- you don’t think it strange that she’s not arrived yet? You’d think such an ‘esteemed member of society’ could keep to a date.” Perhaps his air quotes and exaggerated accent were a tad childish, but it still makes Alastor laugh through his admonishment. “I’m… antsy, sitting around and waiting for her. They have to pay for what they did to Lilith, to me-”

“And they will.” Alastor leaves the chair to approach him, the proximity when he finally stops making Lucifer’s heartbeat pound in his throat. “Patience is key, my good man.”

“I’ve waited for so long already,” he groans. “Was fifteen years not enough? Must I wait another ten before I’ve avenged the wrongs against us?”

“So she’s a few days past when she said she would come,” Alastor says flippantly. “Do you not think that your over-eager manner won’t scare her off? Cause her to alert the Judge?”

Lucifer says nothing, not wanting to concede that he’s correct. He keeps his eyes on his feet, that hollow feeling returning to his chest and muffling the sound of Alastor’s voice as he continues talking. What would he do if she never came? Then surely Adam would never have reason to set foot in his parlor; he would never have his vengeance, Charlie would be lost to him, Lilith would be dead with nothing to show for his avenging her-

“Lucifer.” His head jerks up, and Alastor is watching him with narrowed eyes. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

He’s sure his face flushes. “Of course I did,” he lies, “you were… shit-”

The smile returns to his face. “I was saying,” he says softly, “that perhaps you can use the time to update your bearings. Get some flowers, hang some decor on the wall- that will likely sway the Beadle’s mind as far as recommending your establishment to the Judge, if the walls are not bare as though you’ve just moved in.”

“I have just moved in,” Lucifer points out petulantly. “I’ve only just started taking customers this last fortnight, I’ve not had time for bearings as you well know.”

Alastor claps his hands together, the sound making Lucifer jump. “I’ll send Husker for a floral arrangement for you- I think it will really cheer the place up.” He glances at Lucifer, a slow drag of his eyes up and down the barber’s body that almost makes him feel shy with the heat it contains. “I was also thinking that the unknown waiting period we find ourselves in is not a wholly bad thing. Perhaps I’m old fashioned, but I find that half of the fun in a plot is making the plan itself! Especially when one has a partner.”

And to Lucifer’s surprise he steps closer, bridging the already short gap between their bodies and taking Lucifer’s hands in his own. “I, for one, have also been enjoying this time simply getting to know you.”

He thinks his brain stops working, the way his mouth stammers to get out a response to that. “Oh! Well, I- I mean, I’ve also been, you know. Enjoying you.” Alastor’s head tilts in amusement, and Lucifer realizes what he’s said. “Enjoying your company, I mean! Fuck, I’m sorry-”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Alastor murmurs, and he releases one of Lucifer’s hands to slide around his back, pulling him fully into his chest. “We did say that we would revisit the intimate portion of that night when you were no longer intoxicated. Tell me, Lucifer, are you under any influence at this time?”

He doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he shakes his head. It shakes some logic loose- that kiss had been a mistake, the door wasn’t locked if a customer approached, he was less than ten feet from the apartment he had shared with his dead wife- but doesn’t stop him from allowing Alastor to lean in and press their lips together.

It’s so much better now that he’s not drunk. The kiss is soft and gentle for a bit, simply their lips touching as they learn the ways they fit against one another. It’s not until Alastor fists a hand in his shirt to keep him close that Lucifer even considers trying to deepen it. His hands tremble from nerves instead of liquor when he reaches up to hold the back of Alastor’s head, fingers threading through his hair while a broken noise tears itself from the back of his throat. Alastor responds in kind, making a soft sound that’s lost in Lucifer’s mouth as he parts his lips, his tongue shyly seeking entrance that Lucifer is all too eager to give him.

Lightning sparks behind his eyes, heat flooding his veins to pool low in his stomach, and he knows he needs to end the kiss before he does something that both of them may regret- though he hates to break the intimacy of the moment, ravishing Alastor in his parlor was not on his agenda for the day. He would need time to plan, to properly court the baker perhaps before inviting him to his bed- not to mention the extra time he would need to whisper pleading prayers to Lilith to forgive him.

Lucifer pulls back, his resolve nearly broken when he sees the way that Alastor’s lashes flutter, a noise of confusion escaping him. “We-” He clears his throat, embarrassed at the low rasp of it. “We should stop for now. Which is not to say that I don’t want to kiss you more! I do, very much,” he rambles, and Alastor merely blinks slowly and watches his mouth move as he had that first night. “Just, we should take this a bit more slowly. I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness-”

“Rest assured, Lucifer,” he purrs, “you are not.” And that makes him lose his train of thought for a moment, with how husky and low the words come from Alastor’s mouth.

“Haah, well, still. I would like to take this a bit slower and do it right. If you would allow me to, you know, properly court you, I would very much like to do so.” He sounds stupid, he realizes, like a child with a crush asking them to check ‘yes’ or ‘no’ on a piece of paper; he just hopes Alastor isn’t put off by the formal request. Perhaps he would prefer something unspoken, more blinding, unplanned kisses that steal both of their breath and leave them panting and wanting more.

But thank God, Alastor simply smiles at him and takes his hand again. “I would like that as well,” he says, and Lucifer thinks he could just collapse from the relief he feels. “We shall go at whatever pace best suits us- though I hope you’ll forgive me if I seem a bit impatient at times.” He watches Lucifer’s neck as he says this, and the barber knows he follows the movement of his throat as he swallows. “But by that logic, if I can wait for what I want, surely you can as well.”

Lucifer opens his mouth to respond- to admonish him, or perhaps pull him in for another kiss- when he hears the creaking of the stairs. He has just enough time to step back from Alastor before the door swings open, and he manages to hide his disappointment that it is not the Beadle, like he hoped, but Vaggie.

“Mister Morningstar!” She crosses the room to greet him with an enthusiastic handshake. “It’s been ages, I haven’t had much time to make it to this side of New Orleans but I’m happy to see you’re in business. And hello to you as well, sir,” she offers to Alastor, who gives her a small smile and turns to tidy something on the shelf behind him. “Mister Morningstar, I admit I have a favor to ask of you- there’s a woman, you see-”

Alastor scoffs behind them, and Vaggie’s eyes narrow into slits before she continues. “She is kind and beautiful, and stubborn beyond belief; she’s opened my eyes to so many new ideas and theories, and- her guardian poses a problem to any intentions I may have towards her, but late last night as we talked and the Judge called her away, Charlie slipped this into my hands.” She holds up a key, dark and dangling off a red ribbon. “It must be a sign, don’t you think?”

“Charlie?” He could hardly dare hope that it was her- that the Judge Vaggie spoke of was Adam, that such an opportunity to have her back was simply being dropped into his lap like this. “Charlie. And, the Judge, you say?”

“Charlie- Charlotte, I suppose, that is her name. And the Judge Cain and his lackey, the Beadle Sera Dempsey. They patrol the alley behind Cain’s home at random hours but despite this we’ve found days that we talk for hours before they can interrupt us. She is perfection, Mister Morningstar, and even if she doesn’t return my feelings I want to see her free from these jailers she’s in the care of. If I can convince her to leave with me tonight- perhaps later in the week, depending on when that horrid Judge is home- could I bring her here for shelter for an evening? Just until I can find a coach for hire to take her North with me, or wherever she wishes to go.”

She finally stops talking, taking a deep breath while she waits for Lucifer to answer her. He finds his words stuck in his throat- yes, bring her, please, bring her to me- and is dismayed to find a lump in his esophagus, halting his words behind the threat of tears. He clears his throat, blinking his eyes a couple times to rid himself of emotion. “You may bring her here,” he says, his heartbeat rapid in his veins, and Vaggie’s face lights up with joy. 

“You’re a blessing, sir, thank you! I hope to see you again tonight, but in any case, I’ll come with Charlie soon!” She shakes his hand again, the force of it making him stumble, before she releases him and is back out the door as quick as a flash.

He turns almost absently to Alastor, who gives him a smile. “Who could have guessed?” He says cheerfully. “You’ll have her back before the week is out- possibly even before the day is done!”

“Charlie will be coming here,” he says distantly, and then it hits him like a train. “Charlie is coming! Oh God, what will she think of me? I need to- shave, maybe, or- should I grow it out? My beard was grown out when she was young, maybe that’s why she no longer recognizes me-”

“Lucifer.” 

Alastor approached him slowly, like one might a feral animal- and that’s what he had felt like lately, some untamed beast stalking around his shop, so perhaps Alastor was right to take a cautious approach. “Perhaps we focus first on getting her here before you spiral about letting her know who you are, hm?”

“You’re right,” he says, and thank God for Alastor to help him keep a level head. “Of course, making sure she gets here safely is the most important part. But- we should clean the place up a bit! How soon do you think Husk can bring those flowers you mentioned? And I can dust the apartment, make sure that everything is tidy-”

He’s interrupted by the creaking of the stairs again, the bell at the bottom ringing loudly to signify someone coming. He expects Vaggie again, or even perhaps the Beadle at last. But to his confusion, it’s neither- Sir Edward Pentious stands in the doorway, his small assistant at his side and carrying a bag that was far too heavy for her slight frame and causing her to tilt to one side. 

“Sir Pentious,” he greets cordially, “and… young lady.”

“I’m Niffty, sir,” she giggles, reaching a hand out to vigorously shake Lucifer’s. “Nice to meet you when you aren’t beating my boss in a shaving contest- and his shop is way nicer than yours too,” she directs to her employer, and he flushes a dark shade of red. “Are you sure you want to be a barber?”

“Niffty,” he hisses, and gently shoves her behind him. “I was hoping to speak with Mister Morningstar alone,” he directs to Alastor, who shrugs with a soft hum and leaves Lucifer’s side.

He meets Niffty at the door. “Well, aren’t you just a little wisp of a thing!” He says when he sees the bag she carries. He takes it from her hands and gestures her down the stairs. “Come along, I’ll see if I have anything adequate for you to eat…”

His voice and Niffty’s enthusiastic reply fade as they descend, leaving only Lucifer and the growing grin of Sir Pentious.

Again, a secret little 'so sorry, gotta do it' for the next chapter. Pour one out for Pentious y'all

Chapter 1 🥧 Chapter 2 🥧 Chapter 3 🥧 Chapter 4 🥧 Chapter 5 🥧 Chapter 6  🥧Chapter 7

[unadulterated-syd]

my music taste is so awful, just went from "baby type beat" (it was a joke i can't explain and i never took it out..), to "too much wine" by phoebe bridgers, to "8 now" by food house, to "canker sore" by disco inc and fredo disco??

[babydollmarauders]

THE START OF IT ALL — JACK HUGHES

part of the el!hughes au

summary: how jack and y/n (lovie) met, through the grace of quinn

warnings: bad parental guidance, small mention of body insecurities and anxiety. (4k words)

notes: a well overdue fic! i’m so thankful to you guys for being patient with me as i navigate writing in my hectic new reality of college and working full time! <3

goosebumps trail my exposed skin, the chilling air of the practice rink nipping from my lack of sweater.

the sound of skates scraping against the ice rings in my ears, mingling with the bangs of sticks hitting against pucks and creating an oddly peaceful soundtrack for my meditation.

my feet are killing me.

capezio tights stretch across my legs, making them shimmer in the fluorescent lighting of the rink, and a black leotard hugs my body, neatly pulled together with a pink wrap skirt. ballet flats adorn my feet, my pointe shoes laying idly in my dance bag in the seat beside me as i watch the national development team practice.

it feels like so long ago that i came and watched my first practice; the one fateful day of september seeming light years away now. but in reality it was only a mere couple months ago that a group of us dance girls had decided to walk down the block and watch a practice.

Natalie and Thalia wanted to check out the guys, and me? i just didn’t want to be left out. but then watching one practice turned into watching two, and then three, and before i knew it, it became a regular occurrence. it didn’t matter anymore that the girls lost interest and no longer tagged along, in fact, i enjoyed the time spent alone.

this became my safe haven; no dance partners to critique my fouettés, no parents whispering in my ear that i’m not doing well enough in school or that i’m not practicing my dances enough or that i need to go on a diet because i don’t look as pristine or perfect in my leotard as the other girls do. just me and the sounds of several sixteen year old boys whipping pucks into the net and gliding around the ice.

as the piercing sound of a whistle slices through my peace, i know that afternoon practice has ended, my serene escape over until tomorrow.

as the team shuffles off the ice and back into their locker room, i revel in the silence for a little while, taking the moment to change from my flats to sneakers; the twenty-seven minute trek home will be a lot more terrain than the five minute one from the ballet studio to the rink, and a lot harder on my shoes.

pushing up from my seat, my hand wraps around the strap of my dance bag, slinging it over my shoulder as i slide through the rows of seats. my feet squeak against the cement steps, two at a time until i reach the exit floor.

pushing through the glass doors, i slip out into the crisp November air, ducking my head as i walk past a group of players that stand around their cars after practice, hair damp from post-practice showers. a few more players can be heard slamming the doors of their cars, obviously in much more of a rush to get home than their teammates.

it only takes five minutes of walking for me to become paranoid, a black GMC following behind me with every turn i make. my heart stutters with anxiety, my pace speeding as i attempt to shake the fear that rakes my body.

but as i speed up, so does the car, until finally the drivers window rolls down as they drive at a pace similar to my walking speed. inside is a teenage boy, a familiar face that i know i’ve seen on the ice of the usntdp rink.

“hey, you watch our practices.” it’s a statement, he knows i do, i assume a lot of them know. it’s kind of hard to miss the thirteen year old girl sitting alone in the stands every afternoon.

i stop, turning towards the boy as i nod in response.

“i always see you walking home, do you want a ride?” he asks before his eyes widen, stumbling over words, “wait, i just realized how that sounds— i’m not trying to kidnap you, i swear! you just live a few houses down, i figured i’d save you some time.”

i’m aware that my answer might be stupid and not very well thought out, but in this moment, i truthfully don’t care— the boy seems trustworthy, an odd sense of warmth radiating from him, so i nod again.

“yes, please.”

his head nods in the direction of the passengers side, unlocking the doors as he tells me to hop in; and i do so, slipping into the seat and hastily pulling the seatbelt across my body.

“i’m Quinn,” he introduces, a hand held out in front of me, “i play for the national development team.”

“i know,” i hum out, shaking his hand, “i’m y/n.”

Quinn steps lightly on the gas pedal, continuing the route to our apparently shared street.

“so, why do you come to the practices?” he questions, and though the question itself sounds a little judgy, his tone is soft, “at first i assumed maybe you were a sister, but then i’ve never seen you with any of the guys.”

i watch as the trees pass by in a blur through the window, my hands fidgeting with the strap of my dance bag that sits on the floor between my feet.

“it’s peaceful.” i confess, making him throw me a lopsided smirk mixed in with furrowed brows, “i don’t really get along with any of the girls in my ballet class, and my parents don’t get home from work until dinner time. its nice to just kill some time and listen to the sounds of the skates on the ice and the pucks hitting the net.”

Quinn hums as though he understands me, and for once, it actually feels like someone does. we’ve barely spoken to each other, we’ve only just met, but for once in my life, i feel as though someone isn’t judging me or about to tell me what i could do better.

“i get it.” he shrugs, “so, have you been a hockey fan, or are you just a little oddball and like the sounds?”

a small smile spreads across my lips, a laugh escaping at his joke, and Quinn garners an appearance of pride at making me laugh. his chest puffs out just slightly, his posture straightening and a smirk resting on his lips.

“i am,” i nod, before i realize i should clarify, “a hockey fan. i’m a hockey fan.”

it’s Quinn’s turn to chuckle now, eyes flickering towards me before they settle back on the road ahead, “but i get the feeling you are a little oddball, aren’t you? or at least maybe some other people think so.”

the vibe in the car turns stony, my body tensing.

“yeah,” i drop my eyes to my hands, finding great interest in the dirtied white color of my bag strap, “i prefer to keep to myself, you know? it feels like all everyone tells me is how i can do better. how i can perfect my dances, or how i’m so pretty but i would be so much prettier if i did this or that, or how despite straight A’s and a 4.0 GPA, there’s more i could do to get into a stupid ivy league that i don’t wanna go to-”

i suck in a deep breath, cutting off my rambles prematurely, because here i was dumping all my insecurities and problems on a boy three years my senior and who i’ve only just met.

“i’m sorry, those are some shitty people.” Quinn frowns, a hand tightening just slightly around the steering wheel.

“that was all my parents.”

“fuck,” he curses, glancing over at me quickly with wide eyes as we turn onto our street, “your parents said all that?”

i shrug, nodding my head, “it’s what a parent does, right? they criticize you to be the best you can be. the girls in dance aren’t much better.”

Quinn parks the car in front of what i assume is his billet house, turning in his seat to face me properly.

“a parent should guide you to be the best version of yourself, not criticize you until you become the person they want you to be.”

his words repeat in my head, my brows threading together as i hum in acknowledgment of his statement.

rather than truly respond, i unbuckle my seatbelt, pushing the door open as i gather my bag from the floor.

“thank you for the ride, Quinn. sorry for dumping all my problems on you.”

i don’t give him a chance to respond, hopping out of the car and slinging my bag over my shoulder as i shut the door.

i’m only one house away when i hear him yell, “hey! same time tomorrow?”

i spin around confused, finding him standing next to the car with his hockey bag slung over his own shoulder.

“what?”

“same time tomorrow! i’ll drive you home!” he smiles gently, before giving a small wave and heading into his house.

what the fuck just happened? did i just make a new friend?

***

my entire body aches, my toes in particular feeling incredibly sore due to the bruised skin that covers them, but i push through.

only a week until the spring performance and i still don’t feel that my solo is where it should be. my pointe shoes make my toes prick with pain, but over time, the pain turns into a stinging numbness.

my reflection stares back at me in the mirrored wall, a frustrated puff of air passing through my parted lips. my tutu caresses my arms as i let them fall to my sides, lowering back down to flat feet.

in the mostly empty building, i can hear the ring of the bell above the front entrance followed by muffled conversation approaching the private room i currently occupy.

i walk over to the chair that holds my things, my brows furrowing as i check the time. i still have five minutes until Quinn is due to pick me up. that gives me more than enough time to run through the solo once more.

walking over to the barre, i flex my feet a couple of times. but before i can begin to dance, i’m bombarded by the sound of conversation.

“what are we doing at a dance studio?” a male voice echoes through the building, grumbling in obvious annoyance.

“i told you, i have to pick up a friend.” i recognize that voice immediately; Quinn. my close friend of four months.

“a girlfriend?” i scrunch my nose at the other person’s question, part of me wanting to shout out that i can hear them.

“a girl that’s a friend, yeah. more like a little sister.” a heated blush rises to my cheeks, a smile spreading across my lips.

he thinks of me as a sister.

a knock sounds against the door of the private room before it creaks open, Quinn’s head popping in.

“hey, twinkle toes, you ready to go?” he smiles warmly, his eyes sparking with care as he eyes my outfit, “nice tutu.”

“you’ve seen this one before.” i giggle but it quickly dies off into a sigh as i think about how much work i still need to put into the dance, “give me one sec?”

“yeah, go for it.” he nods, “mind if i come in?”

“come on in.”

closing my eyes, i take a deep breath, tuning out the sounds of Quinn and his company entering the room. breathing out, i enter fifth position.

plié, passé relevé, back down to fifth position, my eyes open as i run through the rest of the dance, focusing on my core and watching myself in the mirror.

my sight flickers to Quinn, a smile on his face as he watches me dance, and for a moment i feel so proud of myself. but then my sights set on the boy beside him.

fluffy dirty blond hair mussed atop of his head, beauty marks dotting across his soft features, and beautiful blue eyes that watch my figure. he’s the prettiest boy i’ve ever seen.

i stutter in my steps, suddenly nervous and self conscious in front of the unfamiliar face, and before i can fix my form, i buckle under his stare; missing a step before my ankle twists, a sharp tinge of pain shooting up my leg as i stumble back down onto flat feet.

“shit.” i whimper, my facial features contorting in pain as i flex my ankle, gauging my pain level.

“are you okay?” Quinn stammers, eyes wide in concern, “what happened?”

“i’m fine,” i sigh. walking over to my bag, i pull my flats out and sit on the chair, beginning the process of taking off my pointe shoes, “i just got a little distracted.”

“distracted?” Quinn repeats, confusion plaguing his features before he looks back at his company, his lips quirking into a smirk, “y/n, this is my brother, Jack. Jack, this is y/n.”

my face heats under the heavy gaze of Jack’s blue eyes, his shoes tapping against the floor as he steps forward, extending a hand in front of me.

“hi.”

he smiles and it’s as though the whole world slowed, as though the universe was saying ‘look. look at him. perfection personified amidst your very eyes.’

“hi, it’s nice to meet you.” my hand slips into his, shaking lightly before i pull away, distracting myself by continuing my endeavors of changing my shoes.

Quinn and Jack share whispered huffs, mumbled words between the two of them as i slip my flats on, shoving my pointe shoes in my bag.

i stand now, removing my tutu and holding it carefully, leaving me in only my tights and leotard.

“i’m ready.” they both look over at me, Quinn nodding in acknowledgment before he turns and wordlessly begins walking out, leaving his brother and i to fall in line behind him.

“so how did you guys meet?” Jack asks me as we step out of the private room, his voice hushed.

“i go watch the development program practices a lot, Quinn saw me walking home and offered me a ride.”

“you like hockey?” he raises a brow as he looks over at me with a bright grin.

“mhm.” i hum, “i’ve watched it my whole life. my dad is a red wings fan.”

we exit the building, following Quinn to his car.

“good team.” Jack replies, his voice far off, eyes staring ahead as though deep in thought; and i assume that’s the end of our conversation until he speaks again, “i liked your dance. pretty.”

blood rushes to the apples of my cheeks and i bite my lip to hold back a smile, “thanks.”

i pull open the car door as Quinn unlocks it, climbing into the back seat so that Jack can sit up front with his brother. but i’m surprised when he joins me in the back, earning a look from Quinn.

it’s silent as Quinn starts the car, pulling out from the parking space and out of the lot.

“so,” Jack starts, gaining my attention once more, “you dance and you like hockey, what else should i know about you?”

i ponder the question for a moment before i look over at him, “there’s not much to tell. i’m an only child, i like taylor swift, i don’t know.”

“well what do you and your friends do for fun? do you wanna be a ballerina when you graduate?” he turns towards me, letting me know i have his full attention.

“i only have one friend.” i shrug, “Quinn. and he and i usually just hang out at his billet house or at the rink. he’s been teaching me to skate.

“as for the ballerina thing, i don’t think so. i love dancing, but i don’t want it to be my life.”

Jack hums, nodding his head in thought before his lips part again, “give me your phone.”

“what?”

“gimme your phone.” he makes a grabby hand, waiting for me to pull my phone out of my bag before i set it in his palm.

he turns it on, getting in easily with my lack of password, and quickly types something before handing it back.

“two.” he smirks.

“what?” my face punches in confusion.

“you have two friends now.” i look down at my phone, a new contact open with his number inputted in.

“okay.” i smile, not quite sure how to react to this gorgeous boy wanting to be my friend. it’s a new feeling that i’m not quite used to.

the car is silent as we pull onto Quinn and i’s street, but if i remember correctly, he’s staying at a hotel with his dad for the next couple of days.

“hey, twinkle toes.” Quinn calls out from the drivers seat.

“yeah?”

“you still coming to the game tomorrow?”

“i plan on it.” i tell him.

“alright, you’ll be sitting with my dad and Jack.” he informs me, “Jack, you good to wait for her at the entrance to take her to your guys’ seats?”

Quinn stops in front of my house, unlocking the doors.

“yeah, sure.” Jack confirms, watching as i exit the vehicle, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“see you tomorrow!” i smile. i shut the door, Quinn’s window rolling down as he calls out a goodbye, “bye, snuggles!”

i can hear Jack snort out a laugh as i walk away, a wheezed echo of “snuggles?!” coming from the back seat.

“shut it, Rowdy.” Quinn grumbles, rolling up his window before peeling away.

***

thirty minutes.

i spent thirty long minutes picking out my outfit for tonight. when i originally said i would go to Quinn’s game, i had just planned on wearing a USA Hockey sweatshirt and some leggings; but now that i’ve met Jack and know i’ll be with him? i refused to dress down so much.

descending the stairs of my house, my mother peers over the back of the couch, her hair in a tight bun and her laptop in her lap, slaving over a law case with files piled beside her.

“what are you so dressed up for?” she inquires, her glasses sitting low on the bridge of her nose.

“i have Quinn’s game tonight.” i walk around the couch to stand in front of her, my nikes shuffling along the area rug.

“i’m so proud of you.” she smiles, and for a moment i’m left to ponder where this could go, “you’re finally taking a care to how you present yourself.”

and there it is; the subtle jab. it can never be a real compliment, there’s always gonna be the underlying insult muddled in somewhere.

“are you going with friends?” she questions, her focus falling back on the open computer screen in her lap.

“kinda?” i’m not quite sure what to call Jack, he said we’re friends, but we also don’t actually know each other.

“kinda?” my mother echoes in wonder, looking back up at me as i wander into the kitchen to retrieve a water bottle.

“yeah. i met Quinn’s brother yesterday, the one a year older than me?” i start, “i’m sitting with him and their dad at the game. i don’t think i would call us friends really, but we exchanged numbers yesterday.”

my mother sighs, pushing her glasses atop of her head in order to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“does this boy play that brutal game too?”

my mind wanders back to what Quinn has told me about his family in the past, “yeah, they all do.”

“oh y/n, don’t get too wrapped up in these boys. they won’t do you any good.” she tells me, “find a nice boy, one who wants to do something substantial with his life.”

“we’re just friends, mom. it’s not like anything is gonna happen.”

“but you want it to.” she narrows her eyes, waving her finger towards me, “i can see it. mother’s intuition. don’t fall for this boy.”

who is she to tell me who i should fall for? she and dad barely even speak anymore. i wouldn’t even call what they have, love.

“it’s just going to a hockey game, mom. their dad is gonna be there too.” i sigh, “i gotta go.”

“how are you getting there?” she asks, “are they picking you up?”

“no,” i shake my head, “dad said he would drive me.”

her brows furrow, “your dad had to go into work.”

i gape at her, a blank look covering my face. i shouldn’t be shocked, this happens all the time. it’s the same reason i walk home from ballet, or why i’ve come to rely on Quinn to pick me up for school. but somehow, it still always feels like a cut to the heart.

my mother sighs, shutting her laptop and rising from her seat, “i’ll drive you. come on.”

“you would think he would try and spend more time with you. but it’s always work with that one. work then family.” she mutters, ranting to herself as she slips her shoes on, grabbing her keys from the dish on the entryway table.

i fall in line slowly behind her, dreading this car ride already; because it appears it’s one of those days. the days where my mother will do anything to appear better in my eyes than my father. including talking down about him to me in hopes to make me more upset with him than i already am.

and i was correct. the entire drive was spent with me sitting silently in the passengers seat, watching my surroundings pass by as she went on and on about all of the things my father has done wrong in the past week.

i couldn’t get out of the car quick enough, nearly breaking the car door off its hinges as i throw it open. calling out a goodbye to my mother and assuring her that yes, Quinn would be driving me home afterwards, i slam the door shut and jog towards the arena entrance.

slowing down upon the sight of the glass doors, my body lights up, butterflies flutter in my stomach as i spot Jack in the lobby just through the doors. he wears jeans and a gray hoodie, converse tied to his feet, and he looks down at his phone, glancing up every few moments.

when his eyes land on me through the clear glass, a friendly smile spreads across his lips, slipping his phone into his pocket and taking a few steps towards the door, propping it open for me.

“hey!” he chimes as i reach the entrance, “puck should drop soon! i was gonna text you to check in but, i didn’t wanna push anything.”

my heart rate picks up, my cheeks burning at the idea of seeing Jack’s name pop up on my phone, “you can text me any time.”

Jack’s smile drops into a smirk, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and amusement, “i’ll keep that in mind.”

“our seats are this way.” Jack begins pushing through the lingering people in our way, many not paying any attention to the people in their way as they try and navigate towards their own seats.

for a second, i’m pushed away from him, worry flooding my mind as i think of how i’ll try and find our seats if i lose him. but then he looks back at me, his eyes finding mine, and he must see the anxiety that fills my body, because it’s not a moment later that his hand finds mine.

his hand slips into mine, interlacing our fingers as he gently tugs me closer to him as he walks, a reassuring quirk to his lips, “i got you. it’s okay.”

and somehow, all my worry melts away, just like that. for some reason, i feel like he’s telling the truth; it’ll be okay.

there’s something about Jack’s presence that calms my nerves. that makes me feel okay. and it sounds utterly insane because i’ve known him for all of twenty-four hours, but i feel like i can truly trust him.

as we reach our seats, Jack sitting next to his dad with me beside him, he still never lets go of me. instead, he rests our hands on his thigh, glancing over at me to gauge my reaction before he speaks.

“you okay?”

and finally, for once, i’m telling the truth, “yeah.”

[plutoccult]

POST-WAR!REINER BECOMES A DAD

pairing: reiner braun x female reader

description: super cute headcanons depicting reiner becoming a father for the first time.

author’s note: new theme!! slayyyy 🤭 i wrote these after i rewatched how i met your mother for the fifty billionth time and the scene where barney meets his child for the first time spawned these headcanons. y’all liked dad!jean, so here’s dad!reiner 🤪 it ain’t much, but it’s honest work. i’d love to write more dad content for the aot men in the future, but i hope you enjoy this!

tags: @solefleurs @heavenfilm @cowgirlikets @jeanboyjean @femme-lune @todorokiskitten @0p1umz

taglist form here

— it was no question that reiner always felt like he didn’t deserve to live a happy life.

— but despite all of his sins and feeling like a monster, you were the one to see a loving man underneath, and loved him despite it all.

— once reiner settled into life after years of war and peace negotiations that followed, he was finally able to live the life he always craved, yet didn’t think he deserved.

— the two of you got a little house with hopes of starting a family one day. it was a bit of a fixer upper, but reiner became quite the handyman to create the perfect family home.

— reiner always feared starting a family would mean he’d accidentally create a child just as screwed up as him, but you always soothed those fears, insisting your future child will be brought up with nothing but love, what reiner always wanted in his own childhood.

— of course, there was still some worry, but that was normal for anyone becoming a parent for the first time. reiner just had to remind himself that there wouldn’t be any vicious cycles repeating.

— when you finally became pregnant after months of trying, reiner was ecstatic.

— he wanted to do everything he could to make sure you were both ready. he built the baby’s crib from scratch, using the chopped wood he brought home everyday to craft it himself.

— reiner even tended to your every need, although sometimes you tried to insist he didn’t, reiner didn’t want you have to lift a finger. you were creating new life, after all.

— once it came time for the birth, pre-parental kicked in terribly. every doubt came rushing back so quickly, but reiner had to keep it together for your sake. he couldn’t let you deal with a wreck like him while you were trying to push out a kid.

— but after hours and hours, a baby girl was finally born, and she was one of the greatest things to ever grace this earth.

— when reiner met his baby girl for the very first time, it was like he fell in love all over again. his love for you was always strong, but his love for your child carried just as much strength. every worry he had washed away the second he saw your precious child.

— he held the newborn in his arms, his first words to her; “you are the love of my life… everything i have and everything i am is yours… forever.”

— it was no contest that reiner would dedicate every damn day of his life to you, your child, and whatever future children you may have. there would never be a single doubt.

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3

[axelsagewrites]

Hey can you make some Jealosy stuff with aegon? I actually have a prompt list of you would like it, I used to write so it helped me alot

Aegon Targaryen*Noticed

Pairing: Aegon x f!reader

Word count: 3125

Warnings: jealousy, slightly drunk aegon

A/N: so sorry this took so long but i think i'll be making another post soon of jealous aegon headcannons so keep an eye out (also i would love to see your prompt list if you wanna tag me in it or send it to me <3)

Masterlist Here

Being a lady in waiting to princess Heleana was one of the biggest honours queen Alicent had bestowed on your family. when the day came just weeks after your thirteenth nameday for you to leave the goodbyes were tearful but filled with promise. you would serve the princess and your family and bring honour to your house. this is what your father told you. this was your job.

you remember the day you met the princess clearly. you approached the queen with shaking knees and a thin layer of sweat down your back with your deepest curtsey. the smile she gave you was rehearsed, even you could tell at your age, but she did not seem as mean as some had described as she ushered you inside the red keep.

soon you were brought to Heleana who sat in the corner of the courtyard, her dress covered in grass stains and dried mud and her hands trailing along the dirt. Alicent cleared her throat and drawing her daughter’s attention who looked up confused before her lips turned into a crooked grin, “You must be my lady!” she beamed.

“I am your grace,” you said, giving your best though shaking curtsey yet again. however, this time Heleana reached a handout, grabbing your wrist gently and bringing you to sit beside her in the dirt. you glanced over your shoulder, but the queen was already halfway across the courtyard, “What are we doing my lady?”

“Call me Heleana,” she said as she picked up her latest friend, “Look at him. isn’t he marvellous?” she grinned as she showed you the caterpillar in her hand.

you were too distracted to hear the sniggering across the courtyard as the prince watched your attempts not to recoil at the bugs his sister pushed into your hands. Aegon lent against one of the archways, arms crossed as his eyes became glued to you. he wasn’t sure why he found your character so interesting but none the less could not look away even as the years went by.

years went by and you grew closer to Heleana and even with her family. all but the king that was. even queen Alicent would make small talk with you at suppers and sent gifts to your chambers on your name days. Aemond was not particularly close with you, but you had a silent understanding. Heleana however was your closest friend which was not shocking given how much time you spent together however what surprised you more was how close you grew to her eldest brother.

it surprised you at first when he suddenly began to take more of an interest in you when you turned sixteen however even before then he had always been kind. he would dance with you at balls and walk with you through the gardens when the night grew tiresome. at suppers he would take interest in your day even though you knew at times your stories were boring. you thought he was kind and sweet but what you didn’t know was that he sparred harder whenever you walked past the training field. or that he would fly his dragon past your chamber windows deliberately, hoping you’d catch a glimpse of him soring the skies. you didn’t even notice how his hands lingered around your waist when he would help you on your horse or how his eyes flickered to your lips too many times for a friend to do.

Aegon however did notice the way your smiled curved when you laughed and what wines got you the giggliest at balls. he noticed how you would style your hair in new ways each week and the new braids you would practise. he noticed how your eyes would widen after a rude lord walked away from you and which books you seemed the enjoy the most. he noticed it all and he remembered every detail.

however, he also began to notice other men noticing you also. Aegon hated seeing his guards lingering eyes on your skin or how you laughed at jokes that clearly were not funny. each time he saw another lord ask you to dance his grip on his goblet tightened till his knuckles were white.

it only got worse when you came of age and began to look for a husband. by now you had been in Kingslanding for so many years it had become home. in that time your once more minor house and blossomed into one with more power than you had ever guessed it would due to lands your family owned becoming essential to the crown. you noticed how the more powerful your family became the more lords stopped to talk to you at feasts.

so, you put on your doe eyes and kind smiles to not offend the lords who pretended to care for you as you dreamed of another. you knew you would never raise to a station high enough to marry a prince but having Aegon so close at all times made it hard not to dream of the idea.

as Aegon’s nameday was soon arriving his mother had decided to throw another one of her balls but this one would be far more important she said. she had invited everyone who was anyone as well as their sons and daughters. this was her opportunity for match making she told her children over supper. Alicent even said she had matches in mind for you as well and you couldn’t help but notice how Aegon’s face grew cold when she said it.

but soon the fabric was ordered and sewing your dresses began. Heleana never cared much for these balls but deep down they delighted you. the dancing, the music, the décor. it was all so beautiful. it also gave you an excuse to be pressed against the chest of the man you dreamed of.

it was the day before the ball, and everyone was extra busy today. the servants walked at double the speed and the cooks were making quadruple the food. all the ladies of the court were finishing off the final touches to their gowns while the men mingled and tried to organise suitable matches for their own children before the ball had even begun. luckily for you however you had finished your dress some days ago so while everyone else was running around you decided to take a stroll through the plainer gardens near the back of the castle.

while not as pretty as the gardens the guests were exploring these gardens gave you far more peace. you were able to stroll through the bushes and trees, stopping to admire the sights with no worry of anyone interrupting your peace. well, you thought that anyway until you looked down to see a prince laying down on a bench, a handkerchief over his eyes to shield them from the hot sun.

you silently laughed as you crept over, snatching the handkerchief away suddenly making Aegon’s face screw up as the sun beat down on it. “Ah! Who do you- “he angrily spouted as he quickly sat up making you step back, a giggle still on your lips, “Oh, it’s you,” Aegon said, his anger melting away to be replaced by a cheesy grin, “To what do I owe the pleasure my lady?”

“I was only out for some sunshine my prince,” you said, passing him the handkerchief back and trying not to flush when his fingers grazed yours, “I did not mean to ruin your relaxation,”

“You’ve not ruined it at all my lady,” Aegon said as he stood up. you took the moment to appreciate his fine features and how his hair shone like diamond strands in the sun, “Would you care to join me?” he offered as he gestured for you to sit down on the bench he had used as a bed.

“Why thank you my prince,” you said as you took a seat, Aegon instantly joining your side, “So are you also hiding from all our visitors?”

“You caught me,” Aegon said, a laugh on his lips as he held his hands up in mock defence, “Too many people for my liking,”

“They’re all here for you,” you said, glancing over at him and trying not to stare, “Everyone here wants even a moment in your ear and you’re hiding in the trees with a random lady,”

Aegon smiled gently, a rare sight in the recent times since tensions grew high as he argued with his mother over his future betrothment, “You’re not just some lady. besides id rather hide in the trees with just you than pretend to care about the strangers in there,”

you couldn’t help flush at his words. no one else would believe you if you told them how sweet Aegon could be. how his words could sound like the came right out a dream. you heard all the rumours about him at court and you wondered how they could get him so wrong. this was the Aegon you knew, “You flatter me my prince,”

“I just wish to speak the truth my lady,” he said as he kept his eyes on yours longer than a friend would. sadly, you both cringed when you heard guards start to yell Aegon’s name across the gardens, “I suppose mother noticed my absence. I have to go my lady,” Aegon said as he stood, you instantly standing as well, already missing his presence despite him being here, “I’ll see you tomorrow my lady,” Aegon said, bowing lightly before turning to leave.

“Goodbye Aegon,” you said making him pause for a moment as his guards waved him to hurry over.

“Save a dance for me?” he asked suddenly, a hopeful smile on those precious lips.

you couldn’t help your grin. “It would be an honour my prince,” you said as Aegon turned to run off to his guards before more trouble could be caused.

you weren’t sure why his question had made you so giddy, but you couldn’t get the prince out your mind the whole evening or even the morning of the ball. Heleana had even commented on your bubbly nature throughout the day. you spent the morning getting ready with the princess, briefly being interrupted by Alicent stopping by to drop off a list of suitable matches for you and Heleana.

when the ball came around your eyes only looked for Aegon, however. usually, you were able to sit closer to the royals but tonight you joined your family at a regular table while those you served sat at the top of the hall, a separate table for Viserys and all his children and grandchildren. it was a rare sight to see Rhaenyra or even her children at court but even you could admit Jacaerys was an easy sight on the eyes.

the girls at your table spent the whole time of the meal discussing the lords in attendance, many times did Jace name be brought up. you had only met the boy once and you never had much chance to speak but still everyone wanted to hear what you had to say. as the feast drew to an end and the music began to speed up you noticed all the sweaty palmed minor lords stand from their tables and make their way to suitable ladies.

those from the greater houses usually took slightly longer to arise from their chairs, scouting out their potential dance partners more carefully. however, the girls at your table fell silent when they noticed the prince stand at the high table however it was not the prince you had hoped would approach your table. you did your best to seem casual, but you could not help your nerves as you noticed that Jace was heading towards your table.

“My lady,” he said, and you felt your eyes widen when you realise, he was speaking to you, “Would you care for a dance?”

“With you?” you said, instantly putting your foot in your mouth as your cousin jabbed you in the ribs with her elbows.

you almost sighed in relief when he began to chuckle lightly, “If it pleases you, my lady,” he said, extending his hand out for you to take.

your eyes glanced towards the high table as you gently took his hand however it was not Alicent’s firm gaze that scared you but rather Aegon’s blank one. surely, he must care you were dancing with his nephew instead of him? your mind was drawn back to your dance partner however as he led you to the ballroom floor.

you noticed how calloused his hands were as they gently held your hand however you could only think about Aegon’s soft ones from your last dance. “You look radiant tonight my lady,”

“Thank you, my prince,” you said but he was not your prince. your prince was glaring daggers into his wine cup right now. your prince did not hold your waist so tightly or step on your toes with an apologetic smile.

you were grateful when the dance ended. you knew it was pig-headed of you, but you did not want to dance another dance unless it was with Aegon. however, you knew you could not reject the lords who approached, and the numbers increased when they had seen the princes interest. with each dance you had you noticed Aegon sink further into his wine, and you noted all the girls he had turned down with a wave of his hand.

the night had grown on long and you were desperate to leave but as another lord whose house you could not even remember approached you felt a rough hand grab your lower arm. “I’m afraid I must borrow my lady,” Aegon said sharply from where he stood behind you to the now stuttering lord, “My lady,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper but telling you everything you had to know as Aegon sharply led you to the corridor.

“What’s wrong my prince?” you asked, your eyes darting back to the ballroom wondering if your absence had been noted by the queen yet.

“What’s wrong?” he said, his eyes wide and his breath smelling of wine, “Why don’t you tell me my lady? tell me did you enjoy the attention?”

“Aegon I- “

“Im sure you must’ve loved it. the future king spinning you around for all to see,” he said as he shook his head, walking away from you further into the corridor.

“That’s not fair,” you said, crossing your arms and refusing to move as Aegon whipped his head around, waiting for you to follow him but you stayed firm, “I could hardly reject him in front of everyone,”

“Please I saw the way you were smiling,” Aegon said, approaching you suddenly. you felt the hairs stand up on your skin, but you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. “Or are you telling me it was all an act?”

“Of course, it was an act, I hardly know the man,” you said, your arms flying out in frustration. “Its not my fault he asked me first,”

“Please,” Aegon scoffed turning to walk away but this time you stepped forward, grabbing his shoulder roughly and spinning him back around, “Hey!”

“Don’t you hey me!” you said, not caring how loud your voice was, “You do not get to be mad at me. I waited for you to ask, and you didn’t. I waited and waited, and you never came and asked. not once. it’s not my fault other men could be arsed to get up and you couldn’t,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. when Aegon tried to speak you just held your hand up and kept spewing out the words you had been holding back, “the whole night I waited Aegon. even your brother asked me before you did. you ask me to save you a dance? well I did but you never came to claim it not once,”

By now Aegon was hanging his head in what you thought was either shame or guilt or some mix of it all. you paused, waiting for him to speak as your chest heaved as you caught your breath, “Do you know how much it hurts to see you dance with him?” Aegon said but this time it was him that did not let you speak, “Or any other lord? I see the way they look at you. I see how you smile and laugh and twirl around the dance floor. seeing you out there, dancing with him of all people it hurts,” Aegon said, his voice bordering on yelling but luckily the music washed out his words to those in the hall, “You should be dancing with me. you should be sat beside me. not as my sister’s lady but as mine,” Aegon said, his eyes desperate and voice shaky, “I don’t want to dance another dance with anyone, but you so forgive me if I don’t like to see you pressed up against someone else,”

“I was just dancing,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, “but each dance I wished it was you holding me,”

“Do you mean it?” Aegon asked as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out as his eyes roamed your face for some kind of cruel trick.

you smiled at Aegon as you stepped closer, your hand reaching for his and holding it softly in your own hand, “I still owe you a dance,” you said softly as you gazed into his lilac eyes, “and you are the only man I wish to dance with tonight,”

Aegon smiled softly, his other hand moving to your waist to pull you in against his chest, “Then we shall dance,” he said as he began to lead you despite the music being so far away now.

“Surely we should go back to the hall,” you said but it came out as a giggle as Aegon began to spin you.

“No,” he said as he effortlessly danced with you in the empty corridor, “I want a moment for just us. we’ll find our own music to dance to,”

“I’d like that,” you said as your steps slowed as Aegon’s head slowly dipped down. your dancing stopped as your lips reached up to slowly capture his. his kiss was soft and tender as his hands moved to hold your waist. you weren’t sure how long it lasted but you wished it was a lifetime as you parted, your forehead resting on his, “We should really go back,” you whispered against his lips.

“Okay,” he whispered back despite knowing being around to here, “But only if you return as my guest and mine alone,”

You smiled against his lips, “I’d love to my prince,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila

[frenshushutoast]

Hi lovely! I recently found your blog and I adore your fics!<3 I am currently sick with the worst fever ever, and I was wondering if you could write smt soft abt Shua (or another member if you’d prefer that!) taking care of his s/o when they are sick?:) It is totally okay if you don’t want to! Have a lovely day!<3

hi anon! i hope you feel better soon & hope you enjoy this :] thank you for loving my works and i hope you have a lovely day/night!

joshua taking care of you when you're sick

tags: fluff (like, tooth-rotting fluff), ultimate boyfriend!joshua, gn!reader word count: 974 words notes about the writing: he takes care of them when they're sick, he uses a lot of petnames, nothing too graphic about the actual sickness in case you get queasy about that sort of thing, they are very in love

"are you sure you're feeling okay, my love? you sound sick." he fussed worriedly, voice muffled by the sounds of the members talking over each other in the background.

you were currently on the phone with your boyfriend, joshua, who had called you several times throughout the day for several reasons. the first was that he missed you, and the next three (spread throughout the hours due to the long, busy schedule he had) were because you sounded unnaturally exhausted and he just wanted to be there with you.

no, you wanted to answer. but the last thing you wanted was to worry the poor man, so you settled for a simple, "yes. for the fourth time, i'm okay, shua. thank you for worrying about me. 'm just feeling a little tired."

with a soft, mumbled okay, he hung up. but something about the slightly rushed (and very much skeptical) tone of his voice told you that he was going to do something. you wanted to groan in annoyance, but secretly wanted him to come home and take care of you. he just did it so well, always paying attention to your needs. he was so incredibly in tune with you that thinking about it sort of made your eyes water.

or maybe that was just the loud coughing fit you just had.

oh well.

you were curled up on the couch, a box of tissues next to you, wearing joshua's biggest sweatshirt with matching sweatpants. you knew you probably should get up and make yourself something hot, or just, you know, take your meds, but it was too far.

you settled for watching some shitty rom-com on netflix and hoping some warm soup could magically float towards you.

that was when you heard the door open slowly, and the familiar sound of keys dropping onto the counter and the door shut gently.

"shua?" you croaked out, head shooting up in confusion (bad idea, you thought, touching your head that felt like it was spinning).

he came into sight, plastic bag in hand with eyes worried. you saw his bottom lip jut out in worry when he finally saw you.

his heart sunk seeing you so sick– he knew how bad it got every time and how much you insisted you were okay. your red nose and bloodshot eyes had him rushing towards you, dropping the plastic bag next to him in favour of holding your face.

"sweetheart," his voice was so, so soft, genuine concern laced into the whispered syllable as he knelt in front of you. he examined your features, the crease between his eyebrows only deepening as he looked over you.

"hi," you whispered, guilt evident in your tone. you felt like melting under his attentive gaze, unable to hold eye contact for more than just a few seconds.

"hi, love," he said, his eyes softening upon hearing the hoarseness of your voice. he presses the back of his hand against your forehead, then your cheek. "why didn't you tell me it was this bad? you know i would've came home for you..."

his voice lacked any real bite as he reached down to hold your hands. they were so warm that you squeezed them, intertwining your fingers together.

"didn't want to interrupt your work," you pouted, knowing how weak he was for those. "i can take care of myself, you know."

the smallest hint of a smile graced his features, and he raised both of your hands to kiss yours. "i know you can, baby. but let me take care of you, anyway. i want to. hate seeing you like this."

you immediately softened at that, heart warming at his words as you surrendered. like you were ever strong enough to resist joshua's endless capacity for love. "'kay, shua. you can take care of me. but... like, from a couple feet away. i don't want you getting sick."

his face quickly turned mischievous, leaning in to pepper kisses all over your giggling face. "and deprive myself of your sweet little giggled whenever i kiss you?"

you smiled up at him, unable to help the giddy feeling in your chest despite your pounding headache and significantly weakened limbs. "mmh, shut up. what'd you bring?"

he looks down at the plastic bag he brought, the one you were currently gesturing toward. "ah, ingredients for soup. mingyu helped me buy them."

you look in between the soup and his face, fond and attentive gaze directed towards you, and you smiled at him.

"i love you, shua," you say, squeezing his hand once more. "my personal soup fairy."

he chuckles at your comment, lowering his voice to a whisper. "and i love you, my (y/n). now let me go make you your soup and then i'll come back and we can cuddle, 'kay?"

you nod happily, watching him breeze through the kitchen and make you warm soup.

after he makes it, he gives you your meds after seeing that you didn't take them ("sweetheart, please take your meds next time. i want you to stay healthy, okay?"), then feeds you mouthfuls of soup after blowing on every sip for you.

(the action is so considerate it makes you tear up a little bit. when he asks, you blame how emotional you're getting on the fever. even though you both know that's not a symptom. he lets it slide.)

you spend the rest of your night curled up in his arms, falling asleep to the sound of his low voice telling you about his day.

the last words you hear from him are a quiet i love you and a kiss to your forehead and the last thoughts you have are that joshua feels a lot like home and a silent wish to whoever grants them that you would like to have this forever.

[70spunkstars]

I’m Baby.

The person who came up with this idea first will be tagged at the end <33

Summary; after a long day, you and hobie just love on each other.

Tags; Fluff, suggestive (?), Fem! Reader, Spiritual! Reader, established relationship, reader and hobie live in the houseboat together, not a lot of dialogue, kinda short, hardly proofread

AN; I probably missed something and it’s late I’m sleepy but I was too obsessed with this concept to not write it so I’m sorry if it didn’t turn out how y’all imagined (I’m probably gonna rewrite this later) SEND ASKS OR DM WITH CONSTRUCTIVE WRITING CRIT 🙏🏽🙏🏽 okay thanks luv you goodnight 🤭🤭

It’d gotten kind of late and Hobie still wasn’t home. You figured he was still out patrolling. Ignoring the annoying ass voice in the back of your head telling you something was wrong, you decided to clean and cleanse your home instead.

Excitedly, you dance to the large speaker Hobie bought you for Christmas a few weeks ago. Connecting your phone to the large machinery and playing your favorite Neo-Soul/R&B playlist, you start cleaning the kitchen.

You’d gone through the whole house and cleaned it from top to mf bottom. Doing breathing exercises to ease your mind before smoke cleansing the house with rosemary and garden sage. The moment you put out your bundles and light an incense stick you hear the front door of the houseboat creak open.

Cheesing so hard your cheeks started to hurt. Then you heard the familiar sound of heavy boots and clinking metal belts make their way into the back of the house towards you. “There you are” Hobie says lowly with a smile on their face, leaning against the well loved and worn paint of ya’ll bedroom doorframe.

setting down the incense holder on your shared dresser you run to the tall lanky boy, who waits for you with open arms, squeezing him and taking a deep breath enjoying the smell of his cologne mixed with the cold night air. Letting out a relieved sigh you pull back and look him in the eyes. “Thought I’d die before yo ass got home.” Playfully slapping their chest and turning around with their hand in yours, sitting him down on your bed and gracing a soft kiss onto their forehead.

“Fuck off” laughing he pulls you towards him by the hips. God, that smile made you lose your mind. he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his cheek against your stomach. You could tell they was trying hard to stay awake. You knew he missed you and it was showing with how tightly he was holding you.

“Hey.” You murmur to them. Cradling his face in your hands gently. He hums in response with closed eyes that drag open to look at you. “I missed you baby” his tired smile fills your stomach with butterflies. How could you have gotten so lucky as to be able to go to sleep and wake up with such a beautiful person every night?

“You sleepy?” Of course he denied, which also made you laugh. “My eyes’r jus’ sore.”

“Boy jus’ say you sleepy and get inna bed” he groans in response making you cackle. Turning off the light you climb into the bed and get cozy under the covers, tying your dreads back and slipping on your bonnet. Watching him shed his many layers and slip off his boots you felt heat start to build in your chest. Like you was falling in love with him all over again.

He slipped on a pair of grey sweats then wrapped his hair and jumped into the bed, settling comfortably between your legs. The two of you laid there for several moments just listening to each other breathe. Dragging your acrylics across his back (that he definitely picked the design for) and soaking in their presence.

“Missed you.” He mumbled lifting his head off of your stomach, which was his favorite place to rest his head if you couldn’t tell by now. The cold metal of his lip piercing against your lip soothed the warmth that was quickly spreading throughout your body.

The contact melted you almost immediately. What was supposed to be just one kiss turned into 3 then 3 turned into 9 and then you started making out. It was comforting really. Having him in your arms like this after him being gone for over 12 hours.

It’d been a long minute. You two had switched positions and you were in his lap now. Your knees pressed into the softness of the mattress, one of his hands gripping your hip and the other on the back of your neck. He was pulling you into him as if you’d slip through his fingers at any moment.

Soft suppressed whimpers leave the back of your throat. Hobie never failed to make you feel loved wanted and needed, ever. They groan in response, sitting up off the headboard to wrap their arms around you, kisses trailing off of your lips and down to your neck.

The warm smell of nag champa and the comforting sound of R&B playing just made the moment all the more magical. “I love you, baby.” Your words send a shiver throughout his body and you can feel him relax under you.

He pulls back. Hands sliding to your hips and kneading the fat there. With the most loving look and content smile on his face, he tells you.

“love it when y’call me baby.”

————————————————————————————————————————————————

@itsparis-07

@mintyrainwater

[cecedownbad]

Hold On

Summary: A missing child's case resurfaced so many memories you wished to keep buried. Sure enough, seeking comfort from the heavy feelings came by as a form of a person. [Spencer Reid X Fem!Reader] Part 2.

Warning: Child abduction, death of a child, angst, no Y/N, made up last name: Cyrus, made up case, light fluff, hurt/ comfort, not too romance-y but alluding to it, not proof read, I don't think the mystery/crime aspect is good but let me hear thoughts guys. Something extra in tags, read after the story.

Word Count: 4.1k

Part 1

I'm so sorry this took so long, my exams, mental health, projects, assignments allll just rolled in the past months, and I've been doing everything to stay on top of writing. It's rushed towards the end but with all that's going on I hope it's okay. If anyone is up for part 3, I'm all for it .

Enjoy

"Those who cannot remember the past, are condemned to repeat it."

-George Santayana

'Okay, let's see, Conrad Miller, 16 years old, went missing on June 12th, 2007. Last seen by the local church with one of the volunteers, she was questioned once but was never linked as she had a solid alibi, her name was Grace Cyrus.' Tara paused. 'So she took Conrad, no she definitely didn't just take him, poor kid is definitely not okay.'

'Right now Stephen is our priority, the anniversary of Steven's disappearance is in 4 days, so what does she want with him now?' You pace in the room, spinning a pen you grabbed in your hand. 'I think that's something only you can answer, what happened 4 days prior to Steven's disappearance?' Tara pondered, she sat down, looking at you, intent on finding answers. '4 days prior…that was the day my dad— Daniel had come to visit, they, Grace and him got into a fight and Stevie, Steven tried to "protect" Daniel in his own way, he thought Mom was going to hurt him…'

Was it then that this all weighed down on you? Words long lost had started pouring through the cracks of memories locked away. You were never in that station in that moment, no, now you were back there.

'Stevie, get back here! We can't stop them!'

'No! No let go! I don't want Dad to go, Mom's going to send him away!'

'Steven!'

No matter how hard you tried, he slipped from your tensed grasp, landing right between two enraged adults.

Pacing the floor helped gather your thoughts, a little better.

'What was the very last thing she said to you when you left?'

The thought of how it all ended passed through your minds, each time much like a bullet to the brain but you push it all down, now wasn't the right time for you. 'everything okay there?' Tara asked you, it's only been a few minutes since you and Tara confronted the idea that Grace might have done more than anyone could have put together.

'Yeah just a lot going on in my head, I think I need a breather.'

'Hold that thought, JJ and Luke are back with Daniel,'

Your hand now wrapped around the empty coffee mug, a dad you haven't spoken to for the last two decades, what would you have to say? or better yet, what would he say to you? This isn't an official reunion, it's an interrogation and who knows what will spill out of your mouth if you see the very first man in your life that disappointed you, taught you that having a person in your life was enough to make you fall apart.

'JJ and I will go in first, you sit tight.' Tara patted your shoulder giving it a good squeeze before heading out the conference room.

It was soon after that Rossi, Reid and Emily came back in, all three harnessing disappointment with their stride. 'Hey, what happened?'

'Well, Rosa was not in her home, we searched the house and by the looks of it, she hardly came back there.' Emily sat down with her legs crossed. 'but, her room had keepsakes, maybe from the time you lived with her?'

'What did she have?'

'She had pictures, some old folded drawings, and the weirdest one, an old juice box.' as Emily finished, you sat up from your chair, 'an old juice box? Do you remember what flavour?'

'I think it was Apple? Why? Does it have something to do with Steven?'

'…'

'Cyrus?'

'That, uh, it's nothing, I think sentimental feelings do surface no matter what kind of person you are.' You began fidgeting with your sleeves, your mind now slowly began recalling events that transpired long ago. 'Is there something else? It looks like you aren't sure about something.' Rossi eyed your movements, he knew something was keeping you. 'My mother, she'd never show any sign that she felt remorse, not even as far as I could remember.'

'Okay Reid, stay with her, I'm going to check in with JJ and the rest. Rossi? Do you mind?' soon after, Rossi and Emily exited the room, leaving you and Spencer in the conference room. 'Could you tell me what kind of person your mother is?' Spencer sat down right before you, urging you to take a seat right next to him and you did.

'She was an uptight woman, she loved to be in control of her life that meant being in control of mine too, it's why I left. She loved being seen.'

'Being seen? What do you mean?'

'She was always a respected figure no matter where she went, be it at work or in the neighborhood, she pushed for that at home too. When Steven had disappeared, I would always remember how she would tell me he was in a better place, and that if I do anything to disobey her or question her authority, I would be punished.' your head hung as you remembered more, 'I would study, day and night, that was the only life I knew, if my grades dropped by a mark, she'd lock me in my room, made sure I only had books on my desk.'

'Did Daniel ever drop by after what happened to Steven?' Spencer asked gently, 'No, I never saw him after that, I thought he finally got sick of mom and left, but I see now that wasn't the case.'

'Okay—'

'You know the one thing I can't seem to remember though?' you looked up at Spencer, his eyebrows now furrowed in question. 'My mother would always say how beautiful I am, and…and that I look just like her, her very own reflection but, Spencer, I can't…I can't remember her face.' your voice sounded shattered at what came out of it. You felt the tears fall, but you couldn't turn away or hide them, Spencer saw just how much this hurts you.

'You are your own person, no one can ever take that from you, no matter what, you are you.' He held your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of your palm, that gave you a sign of comfort and you smiled at him. 'Alright, let's get back to the case.' quickly wiping away your tears and pasting on a smile, which you flash at Spencer, he in turn regained a more unmoving figure. 'When you said Rosa knew that Steven would never come back, what did you mean?'

'I was only a kid but to me it felt like she already knew that Steven had maybe...and all I could remember was a frown anytime I even remotely related to Steven.' You return with an answer. It was then the phone on the table went off.

'What is it Garcia?'

'So I dug into Daniel a bit more, and you aren't going to like this, so he was actually never in Bakersfield until a week ago, before that he was working as a cab driver in Nevada. He was in Nevada for a long time, but he touched base sometime in 2007, in the month of June. Looks like he tried several times to contact his ex wife but she never entertained any of it. What is concerning is that he was reported of stalking a young boy, said he mistook the boy for a boy he knew and he meant no harm but he was fired from his workplace and when was that? A little before coming over to Bakersfield.' Once Garcia had informed both of you, it was then JJ, Emily and Luke walked back in.

'What did the boy look like?' Spencer asked, 'I sent his picture to your phone.'

'Thank you Garcia.' You picked up your cell and scrolled through to find the image.

'No problemo.'

Upon quick inspection, you could tell at a glance the young boy and Steven shared a few similarities, nothing too obvious except hair colour and facial structure, age is the more obvious factor.

JJ walked in, arms crossed, she sighed but began asking what Garcia checked in for, 'Looks like Daniel was fired from his work place prior to coming to Bakersfield a week before Stephen's abduction.' You informed the three.

'If I didn't know any better, I'd say that's a trigger for him.' Emily began, 'Yeah, I agree.' and Luke followed suit.

'So he not only gets rejected by his ex-wife, but fired from his work place for stalking a boy that looks like his son, then he goes and kidnaps a boy that Rosa seemingly dotes on? Something doesn't add up.' JJ looked on with confusion. 'How did it go with him?' you asked finally.

'Said he had something vital for the case but he would only discuss it with you.' Emily sat down, her voice already etching with exhaustion. 'He's hiding something and my gut is saying it can't be good.'

'I'll go talk to him.' You were close to leaving the room, but Emily had halted your motions.

'Wait,'

'Yeah?'

'Reid will go with you, Tara might want to step out.' You gave a quick nod to Emily's order.

Every step to the interrogation room, you could hear the pained voices of yours, more precisely, from when you were a child. A young girl, alone in a room with nothing but her thoughts, you swallowed hard as you stood by the entrance of the viewing room. When you entered, you let Spencer call Tara from the interrogation room to the viewing room. 'No matter what, don't give in to his requests, you need to break him down, and if you ever want to leave, you can.' Tara gave you a small nudge and she stayed back in the room.

This was it, you let Spencer lead you into the interrogation room, allowing him to get there before you creeped on behind.

'How many times do I need to tell you people? Can't you bring my daug—you, your—'

'Let me be very clear, you have something vital for this case and I'm willing to hear you out, but say or do anything and you will be escorted out of the door by agents, understood?' the firm voice you let out hid every sorry cry that was wailing in you, having not seen your father for 20 years was a shock but not something that should be seen. 'Look at you, what it's been 15, 20 years, oh my beautiful little angel, I missed you.' honey coated words slipped from his mouth and every cell in you twisted in anger and contempt, 'Mr. Carter, the case.' Spencer stepped in this time.

'Always in such a hurry, well, since you brought my little girl. I know where the kid is being held.' He sat there with no remorse, no care that a child, close to the age of the son he lost years ago, was missing.

'Where might that be?'

'I can take you there, but I'll only go if she goes with me.'

After so long, he cares or at least that's what he's showing but you knew what he was playing at, he thought he could get away light just because his flesh and blood was in the justice system, what a sorry bastard.

'I think we're done here.' Spencer had got up from his chair but you stayed seated, deal or not you wanted to break the man in front of you and that was what was nailing you down to your chair. 'Mr. Carter, what good will it do if I went with you? Was it not enough that you came in here demanding to see your daughter about a case I know damn well you don't care about?' you pressed, choice of words were clearly targeted but your composure remained cool. 'What do you mean, you know what happened to Stevi—'

'Your son that you never bothered to report missing? I don't believe you have a right to bring that up, Sir.'

'Now listen here—'

'In the time Rosa had left you behind, you did nothing but fail to bring yourself together, I have a question for you, what were you doing on June 12th, 2007? Why did you come back to Bakersfield prior to that date?' you swiped through the tablet that Tara handed to you, it contained everything Garcia had found including some case files. 'I don't know why you're asking me that, don't you have the life of a boy to save?' He avoided it with such harshness, you only wanted to pry further but somehow it felt like you knew the answer, but the words never fell into place.

'Answer the question Daniel.' Spencer sat back down now jabbing at him as well. 'I just had someone to meet, is that really so important?'

'Why did you need to meet them? Did you coming back here have anything to do with Rosa Cyrus, your ex-wife?' Your slowly tapped at the desk, it was a timed beat. 'I did visit her once but that—'

'Were you aware that a teenager was reported missing around the same time you arrived here? His name was Conrad Miller, he was 16 years old.'

'W-what? I-I don't know anything about that.'

'Really? Because it says in the case files that Rosa was the last person to have seen Conrad, but you knew that didn't you?' He flinched at the response, at this point he wore a sign that screamed suspicious.

It was then that Daniel remained silent, you believed that any word that came out of him at that point would dig his grave deeper.

You stepped out of the room and walked into the room behind the mirror. 'Now he won't speak,' Rossi now stood there with his arms in his pocket.

'We need to find Rosa and Stephen soon, the man is hiding something and Rosa is the key to finding out why.' Rossi took the words right out of your mouth, looks you both knew what he was playing at.

'I think I can help with that, how much can you guys bet on a gut feeling?' You asked the three of them, weary of their answer, 'At this point? I'll take it.' Rossi let out, the two soon followed. 'Rosa will most likely be at the house we used to live in, which is not in this area, I'm hoping that she's keeping Stephen safe,'

'Safe? How come?' Tara asked you, 'Daniel here, came a week prior to Stephen's abduction, not only did he lose his job before coming here, he needed to have a reason to come here,' you deduce.

'His reason being Rosa? But wouldn't that not trigger Rosa?' Looks like you still needed to elaborate your theory, so you continued. 'It did, Rosa having heard that Daniel came here must have caused her protective instinct to kick in, call me crazy, but I think Rosa is keeping Stephen away from Daniel.' you finally let out a sigh, your palms clammed from sweat but if you were right, the little boy you came here for was safe.

'A mother's protective instinct, I'm guessing that something happened 20 years ago that she didn't agree on, which caused her to completely reject this guy, I'll have Garcia send the address of her prior location.' Rossi curtly exited the room, Tara followed along.

Spencer stood before you in silence, you didn't register any movement from him because all your focus was on the man, sitting on the other side of that glass.

'You can go on ahead, Reid, I need to talk to him.' 

'But I can't let you go in alone...'

You huffed, your eyes did what it could but meet his but looking away won't make what you want go away, 'Given the chance, I might punch the daylights out of him—'

'More of a reason for me to stay.' 

Spencer interrupted, you returned with a sharp look in your eyes before you relaxed, 'Let me finish, I would want to give him a piece of my mind but I need to know, I just, he's the only one that has got to know something about Steven, maybe I can finally put him to rest.' 

It was selfish, that's what you called it, asking for just one more clue when you couldn't do anything before. Maybe now that helpless little girl all those years ago, can see her brother off. 'I need to do this, alone...'

'...' 

You stood there, waiting for something, a sound from him in response, anything at all. 'I'll wait here, being short of another agent will not slow down the rest of the team.' He'd finished but his response ticked you, it poked at the idea of a child being monitored by their parents.

'I don't need you watching my every move, Reid.'

'I'm just following orders.'

'Following orders? Do I look like a child to you? Do I need a leash around my neck too? I can handle him, he's one man!' Your voice raised, and you stared up at your fellow colleague with a ray of contempt.

'A man you can't stand being around for long, you sounded just fine in there earlier to anyone that watched, but do you want to know what I saw? I saw that you were holding back, hard enough your hands curled at his answers, your feet apart was enough for me to know that you would have given Emily a reason for you to be dismissed from the case.' He'd stated what was right, but it wasn't right to you, not right now, you don't know when it would be. 'I'll wait here, you can go in alone.'

Your feet put you in place for a good moment, his words tore right through you. He was right, somewhere in your clouded judgement, you understood he was right, but just because you understood doesn't mean you accepted it.

With a second left to pass, you turned from Spencer. All in silence, it was accepted that you had a job to uphold, no matter the personal toll.

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

The dial ups in the station, voices of police officers, movement all around you had become void. Nothing, that's what you heard when you left the interrogation room, you couldn't even hear one Agent calling out to you when you had left. Something gathered, something rotten had formed in your stomach. Your body felt hot, your head on a swivel.

You felt the acid burn at your throat, the half conscious part of you managed to drag your feet to a bathroom stall for you to expel the choux pastry you ingested.

Standing before the mirror now, you washed your mouth, feeling the remnants of the expelled food at your throat.

Nothing felt right to you, not right then, not right now. Having no mind to lose any more time, Reid waited in the conference room as you begrudgingly walked yourself back into it. You said nothing.

You dialed in Emily immediately, hoping she hadn't reached the house yet. 'What have you got for me Cyrus?' 

'I spoke to Daniel.'

'What did he say?'

'He'd been sending frequent messages and calling my mother, they met once, 2007. There was an argument and Conrad had gotten in-between the two of them, it didn't end well.' you informed her, almost mechanically.

'What did he say about Steven?' JJ chimed in.

'Steven was, he said he was never meant to be hurt and Rosa in the mess of things, covered up for him. He told me where...I know where his body is.' Your voice strained, as it got to harsher details.

Nothing came out though, you tried filling in the rest of the details but your voice was overtaken. A pleading look carried over to Spencer and he took over. 'He said that you have to ask where he's sleeping, Rosa's delusion right at this moment is that Steven would come back.'

'Okay, we'll get back to you as soon as we're done here.' The line cut. If you'd carried a boulder on your shoulders, the weight of it might be the same as your conscience. All that was left was you see a family reunited and you get the closure you've been searching for.

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

The team was back, so was the little boy, he was safe. The Turner family could now go home with their son safe and sound in their grasp.

'Nothing beats seeing that.' you stood, satisfied in a way, the others agreed in unison to your words.

'Cyrus, I need to have a word with you.' Emily called you to a secluded corner of the station, but you had no fear built in you, in fact you felt rather empty, exhausted enough to be emotionally drained. 'We found Steven...' she said quietly.

'Where was he?' you met her in the eyes, having nothing left to tie you down. 'Remains were found in the wall of a small bedroom, it looked like he was initially buried but moved there later.' Every word had struck you, the smaller bedroom was your shared one, no doubt. 'Was he, uh, covered?' a crack sounded in your voice.

It took Emily a moment before answering, 'He was...' 

The last bit of remorse. You'd promised yourself for 20 years that he was found. Part of you wanted him to be alive, maybe he ran off and just found a better life or he was on the streets, alive at least. But you knew how far-fetched that sounded, hope was the one thing you were aware that could end you. '...Thank you, can I, um, I want to be alone.'

'Of course, take all the time you need, listen, once this is over I need to speak with you, but only when you're ready, okay?' She patted the side of your shoulders, adhering to your request, she left you alone.

You let out a wavered breath, trying to breathe in and out to calm yourself. What you needed now was to mourn, you knew that but having a hard cry at this moment would slow down everyone.

Not long after, Rosa and Daniel had gotten arrested. You couldn't catch a glimpse at her face, or more accurately, you refused to see the face you'd forgotten. That didn't bother you that much, as a mother she never cared to look out for you, there wasn't any good reason to remain adherent to the details.

Bakersfield PD would have no more reason to have you stay, for now at least but before you could leave it all behind, Steven deserved a proper burial.

The Funeral was small, no relatives, just few friends from school and the BAU were attending, with Chief Marks as well to pay respects.

You stood over the coffin, looking at how small it was, how it all came to an end, all in silence. Quietly you watched as the coffin was buried, soil tossed over it but before it was over, you had to have one last goodbye.

'I did what I promised, took you long enough to come back from playing, huh? You must be tired, rest well, Stevie.' The Carnation held in your hand had been placed on the coffin, a mark of innocence now put to rest. Once it was all over, you stood, not waiting or expecting anything but just, letting the weight gradually let go of you. This was what you needed yet, it didn't feel enough, something remained in you. 

Footsteps were heard behind you, and you took a peak at the intruder before lifting the corners of your mouth to him. 'He was a handful you know, always wanted my attention no matter what, saying that one day he'd make it to the moon just so he could get me some space rock.' Spencer said nothing to your bouts of reminiscence, 'He told me once, "I'm going to be no.1, so watch me!" I thought he was being silly, Dad left right after and we were alone, it was us against the world.' It all came back, then you knew what you hadn't let go, knew what it was that made you feel utterly at loss. 

'Hey, Spencer, you don't have to do this, but, um, I...' You wanted to ask just for a bit, that little comfort that you so desperately pushed away.

Without another word, he lightly turned to face you. Your mind was too caught up on other memories that when you felt his arms wrap around you, you didn't think for that second. All it took was this to let it all go, no longer in silence but in wailing agony.

He didn't need another word, he simply knew. It was like some crazed superpower of his but it's like he's always known.

He couldn't let go.

Tagging:

@treehouse-mouse

[gravehags]

if you're still looking for prompts, dare i say...reader and cumulus thoroughly taking care of each other while the cardinal watches, tied up and helpless :3 (the internet has been out these last few days and now i crave filth lmao)

-unhinged family anon

this is ticking all my boxes in more ways than one so naturally i have to write it

Pairing: Cumulus x f!Reader x Cardinal Copia

Words: ???

Tags: bondage, voyeurism, titty sucking, cunnilingus, dildos

~~~

“Told you the red would look good on him,” you say to the ghoulette currently lazing next to you on the bed.

Both of you are nude and are content to idly run your hands over one another, watching the mismatched eyes of the man tied up in a chair directly across from the bed dart between your bodies. He looks breathtaking, your Cardinal, with strands of silvering brown hair stuck to his damp forehead, chest heaving and straining against the rope binding him to his seat. Cumulus was thorough and snug in her knots, allowing very little movement for him and you’re impressed by the results. His fair, freckled skin is flushed and you note the way his hips make tight little circles in a pathetic effort to get some relief to his hard and reddened cock.

“Mmmm, don’t you love it when he looks so desperate?”

You chuckle, nosing against the ghoulette’s hair with your hand drifting across her belly.

“So sweet,” you coo as you begin to pepper kisses along her jawline, “I think he deserves a treat.”

In a smooth movement, Cumulus shifts her body towards you and captures your lips in a languorous, wet kiss. You loved the decadence that came with being with her and loved even more when you had a rapt audience. The two of you giggling into each other’s mouths between kisses has the jaw of the bound Cardinal hanging open as if he wishes to speak, but he knows better. Knows that he’s just a simple spectator to your pleasure. And boy were you two ready to put on a show. With a swift movement you straddle the ghoulette and arch your back for the Cardinal’s enjoyment. Cumulus laughs out loud and delivers a sweet, sharp smack to your ass.

“Don’t torture the poor man, love,” she grins, hands kneading the flesh of your hips.

“Why wouldn’t I when he likes it so much? Don’t you, caro?”

Dutifully, no words leave his mouth but he frantically nods and worries at his lower lip with his teeth. Feeling devilish, you lower your mouth to suck and nip at the ghoulette’s collarbone, leaving a necklace of dark bruises across her soft flesh. When your hand comes up to cup her full breast, you hear a whimper from behind you.

“Oh he liked that,” Cumulus breathes, fingers toying with your hair. You smile up at her before licking a stripe over her hardened nipple and her head tilts backwards in pleasure.

“Love sucking your tits, ‘Lus,” you murmur, tracing the bud with the tip of your tongue. “Satanas you’re beautiful.”

Her eyes are shut but a soft smile graces her features as the fingers woven in your hair scratch gently at your scalp. With a sigh you take her nipple in your mouth and suck while your other hand toys with the opposite breast. You can hear your audience breathing heavy behind you and you don’t have to look at him to know his hands strain at the bindings. With an exaggerated pop you remove your lips and bite playfully at the soft flesh.

“Isn’t she beautiful, Cardinal?” you ask, turning your head slightly. He looks at you both with wild eyes, seeking permission which Cumulus graciously grants.

“Y-yes. Yes. Both of you. Belle ragazze mie.”

“Ah, ah, ah, Cardinal. Not quite yours yet tonight. But if you’re still a good boy and make a pretty mess of yourself for us, we’ll consider it.”

The low whine that leaves Copia’s throat is pitiful and only worsens as you settle between Cumulus’ legs. You love seeing her spread open for you, the white curls at the apex of her thighs damp with slick and sweat. When you lick a swift stripe through her slit she gasps and pulls your hair.

“A warning next time my love,” she chides as you grin against her mound.

“Apologies, ‘Lus. I will tell you exactly what I’m doing next time. For example, right now I’m going to spread you open and lick up all that sweet mess you’ve made before I suck on your clit until I have you screaming my name. Is that acceptable?”

You swear you hear Copia let out a sob behind you and Cumulus’ tail thumps on the bed beside you. Her pupils are blown as she looks down at you, cheeks flushed and your hunger for her only grows.

“Please, love. Mmm fuck me with your mouth.”

You don’t need to be told twice. Spreading her open with your thumbs you dip your tongue down to her entrance, fuck you loved the taste of her, teasing at the hole. The sweet little noises and the way her hips buck against your mouth are your favorite part of doing this and you tell her so. When your tongue drags upwards and grazes her clit she cries out, claws digging into your scalp. When the chair behind you creaks loudly, your head whips around and the sight that meets your eyes delights you. The Cardinal’s head hangs forward, mouth open, his paints streaked messily down his cheeks. His chest heaves with effort and his hips jerk in their bindings. You desperately want to go to him, to lick up the fat bead of pre currently sliding down his painfully hard cock but you know the rules. And so you return to the task at hand.

Cumulus is so delightfully sensitive, something you adore about her, and the low moan that comes out of her when you suck her clit into your mouth makes your own cunt throb.

“So good, baby, so fucking good. Don’t stop.”

So you don’t. Not until her tail starts to twitch and her moans become higher and higher in pitch, your name a prayer on her lips. When she cums, her claws scratch blood into your skin, back arched off the mattress and every roll and curve of her body undulating. You’d be content to draw a second orgasm from her just like this but she’s shoving you away all of a sudden, overwhelmed and overstimulated.

“Not…not yet. Gotta take care of you first, baby.”

In an instant she flips you onto your back and Copia lets out a long, low moan.

“He hasn’t cum yet,” you say, somewhat impressed, “waiting for both of us, sweet boy?”

His nod is once again frantic, tears sliding out and leaving black streaks down his cheeks. His cock looks painfully hard and you almost feel bad if you didn’t know this is exactly what he wants. Cumulus reaches over to grab something off the bedside table that has you grinning when she presents it to you.

“Awfully big, ‘Lus,” you comment idly at the dildo in her hand, “sure I can take it?”

Cumulus laughs loudly, glancing mischievously at Copia.

“I’ve seen you take his, remember? Isn’t that right, Cardinal? Doesn’t she take your cock so well?”

Copia is trembling at this point, eyes squeezed shut and panting in an attempt to get a hold of himself. Cumulus takes the opportunity to lean down and bite the meat of your breast before laving her tongue over your nipple.

“Eyes open, Cardinal,” she says in a sing-songy voice, “you need to watch her take every last inch.”

Obediently, Copia’s eyes fly open and settle between your spread legs where Cumulus is currently running the tip of the toy.

“Look how wet she’s gotten just from licking my cunt. Such a good girl for me. Don’t you think she deserves a reward?”

Copia’s nostrils flare in an effort to control himself as his head twitches and a hoarse “yes” escapes his throat. With a flick of her thumb, Cumulus turns the vibrator on and presses it against your clit. The feeling of finally getting some relief makes your body turn to jelly, fingers gripping the sheets. She’s content to tease you for a while, bringing you close to the edge before pulling away. You’re about to whine, about to remind her that she’s not torturing you tonight when you feel the head of the dildo pressed insistently against your hole.

“Eyes right here, Cardinal,” she instructs, moving her body to give him a clear view, “you’re gonna watch her take my pretty fat cock just like she takes yours.”

Slowly, torturously slowly for your taste, she pushes the toy inside of you. The abundance of slick coming from you makes its path easy and you moan loudly at the way it stretches you. The cock is halfway inside you when Cumulus ramps up the vibrations, causing your walls to clench.

“Fuck, ‘Lus,” you pant, hands searching for something to hold onto, “fuck that f-feels so good.”

“Mmm I know baby. Look how pretty her cunt looks stretched around my toy, Cardinal. What a pretty show she puts on for us. But I think she can take more…can’t you love?”

Your laugh is a little too loud, a little too wild as you chant a litany of yeses. When she continues pushing the cock into you, your mouth hangs open and eyes roll back. Between the delicious stretch and the way the vibrations feel against your clit you know you’re close.

“A-almost there. So, so close ‘Lus. Please.”

“Hear that, Cardinal? She’s close - and I bet you are too, aren’t you? Look at him, love. Show him how good this makes you feel. Bring him over the edge with you.”

In an instant your eyes fly to meet Copia’s and you swear you’ve never seen him look more desperate. Suddenly you wish he was within your reach so you could use your mouth, your hands, anything to pleasure him. The way he watches you as Cumulus’ pistons the toy in and out of you is pure hunger. With each thrust of her wrist his hips rut forwards, eyes ever on yours. When you finally feel your spine tighten and white hot heat spread across your chest and limbs, your mouth falls open in a shout.

“Cumulus!”

You want to shut your eyes, to bask in your pleasure but then you’d miss the way Copia paints his chest and stomach with ropes of seed, moaning in broken Italian as his mismatched eyes bore into yours. His hips continue to twitch long after he’s spent and gently, Cumulus eases the dildo from your sore cunt. You move to get up but she gently presses you back down into the soft sheets. Panting, you watch her deftly untie the Cardinal from his bindings and guide his limp body into bed beside you. As if by magic she procures a warm rag and cleans up the mess on Copia’s belly and face as you tuck into him and gesture for her to join you both. Smiling warmly, she slips into bed beside you and her tail wraps loosely around your calf.

“You did so well, Copia,” you murmur into his neck, “always so good for us.”

He lets out a weak chuckle.

“It’s eh, very easy to be good for belle ragazze mie. Grazie, amori miei.”

You can feel Cumulus smiling against the curve of your shoulder and before long her low purring begins to lull the three of you to sleep.

[oigimi]

Hello everyone! @scummy-writes and I decided that Arthur should receive a bit of extra love this cold winter season, so we came up with the idea to have an Arthur appreciation creativity challenge called 12 Days of Arthur! For 12 days, there will be 2 prompts to pick from, and you can do as much or as little as you want! By no means do you have to complete each day, just do as much as you can!

The challenge begins December 11 and will conclude on December 23, but if you would like to keep submitting, there will be a grace period until December 31st. After that, we’ll compile a masterlist of all your work. Any medium is acceptable: Writing, drawing, arts and crafts, anything!

For each submission, please tag either me or Scum, or post in the tag #12 days of arthur. That way it’s easier for us to find your works to reblog and add to the masterlist!

The only rules are to be respectful to your fellow fans, do not post character bashing fics against anyone (this is all about positivity!), please do not post things like noncon, incest, etc, and to have fun! Any length, additional characters, or OCs are welcome! Be as creative as you want! ＼(￣▽￣)／

Prompts: Day 1: warm drinks / sharing Day 2: performances / music Day 3: surprises / writing utensils Day 4: blue / love letters Day 5: cookies / puppy Day 6: ice skating / courtship Day 7: chilly / walk Day 8: lights / memories Day 9: something new / blue Day 10: shopping / working together Day 11: preparation / gambling Day 12: presents / sweater

[cycat-carisi]

I Left My Pretty Baby With Ralphie

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!reader

Summary: If you haven't heard the tune "Ralphie" by Joe's former band, Post Animal, check it out! The tune inspired me to write a little thing about our favorite former King of Hawkins High and the massive crush he has on the reader.

Tags: Fluff, Summer of '85, Post-season 3, Pre-season 4, Steve Harrington has it bad and he really doesn't know what to do about it.

Warnings: some alcohol consumption, partying high schoolers, spoilers for season 3

Length: ~2.5k

A/N: This is pure, unedited word vomit. I don't have the time to write right now and yet here we are. (:

Fic below the cut or on AO3 here

Steve should have known better. Afterall, when one king falls, another is always waiting to take his place. Steve’s fall from grace had been less than glorious. Billy had shown up to claim the crown and had rubbed Steve’s face in it for good measure. And now, with Billy having succumbed to the Mind Flayer, the position of king had once again been ripe for the taking. This time it was little Ralphie Baker who rose to the occasion – well, not so little anymore. Over the summer of ’85 he had finally gotten a long-overdue growth spirt in both height and muscle. At six feet tall and a hundred and sixty pounds, Little Ralphie Baker’s ascent to the throne came just in time for his senior year.

Steve wouldn’t have been so bothered by Little Ralphie Baker if it hadn’t been for what happened at the last house party of the summer…

~~“It’s not in the way that you walk that gets me off. It’s the way that you think. It’s the way that you talk.”~~

The summer of 1985 started out pretty decent except for the obvious humiliation of working at a place like Scoops Ahoy. Sure, Steve struck out with the ladies and sure, Robin made fun of him for it, but at least working at the mall allowed him to see the people he cared about regularly. People including you.

You were Robin’s age, about to go into your last year of high school. After having been paired for a group project in one of your classes last year, you found out how awesome Robin actually was. The two of you became fast friends and during the summer you would visit her at Scoops for free samples and a back entrance into the theatre.

That’s also how Steve met you. The first time Robin introduced you to him made quite the impression on Steve. After all, he had come to respect Robin’s judgement on a lot of things, so, for you to be worthy of Robin’s friendship already spoke volumes about the kind of person you were.

As time went on, you and Steve found yourselves getting along really well too. So much so that it became the highlight of Steve’s day when you’d walk into the ice cream parlor with a lovely smile springing to life when you spotted him. The two of you would chat on his break and Steve was more than happy to show another member of Hawkins High that he wasn’t the same person that he used to be.

The lovely friendship between the two of you continued to grow, even after the Mind Flayer wrecked havoc on Hawkins. Instead of free ice cream, both Steve and Robin would let you use their Family Video discount; the store being your new place to hang out over the remainder of summer break.

Having such a strong and effortless connection, it was no wonder Steve found himself falling for you: your pretty smile, the shy way you’d tuck your hair behind your ear when he gave you a compliment, and especially how you just seemed to get him. He never felt judged when he was around you, only accepted. In his head and in his heart, Steve knew that he loved you; he had just never found the courage to tell you yet.

That’s why the last house party of the summer bugged Steve so much. You had generously offered him to tag along with yourself and Robin, but the former king of Hawkins High, Steve Harrington, had completely blown it.

~~“But I can’t tell this girl what’s on my mind. And it seems it's getting closer all the time.”~~

The night had started out fine. Your little trio flitted from social group to social group, sipping drinks and exchanging pleasantries with the other guests. Being the only one with a car or driver’s license, Steve had graciously agreed to be the DD for the night allowing you and Robin to let loose to rhythms like Phil Collins’ Sussudio blasting over the boom box.

Seeing you so relaxed and carefree sent shock waves straight to Steve’s heart. And when you rushed over to grab his hands in yours to dance, his heart nearly stopped altogether. Your cheeks were rosy from laughing and the slight buzz of alcohol, yet Steve still found you gazing at him with the same softness that you always did, even while twirling him around to the beat.

Then abruptly, the upbeat song came to an end, switching to the ballad of Bryan Adam’s Heaven. Awkwardly, Steve released himself from your grasp as if the lyrics would reveal every feeling that he was too nervous to share on his own. A party like this just wasn’t the time.

Steve saw you glancing at him with a mixture of confusion and something that bordered on hurt as he slowly retreated backwards.

Before anything further could transpire, the sound of Robin’s slurred voice calling out Steve’s name caused both your heads to turn. She clearly had been sipping back a few more drinks than you had. You both went to her aid finding her contemplating whether or not she was going to throw up.

“Take her home,” you told Steve, sympathetically. “There’s nothing more humiliating than puking at another person’s party.”

Steve knew you were right. Even though the night was young, Robin’s inability to hold her liquor warranted her an early retirement.

“You wanna stay longer?” Steve asked you while propping Robin against his shoulder.

Steve watched as you turned to glance around the room. Some of your other classmates you actually liked were still here to chat with. He tried to hide his desire to steal you away for some quiet one-on-one time after dropping Robin off. Steve hated to admit to himself just how often he daydreamed of taking you out for late night milkshakes at the local diner.

“I think…” you began, shaking Steve out of his thoughts. “hmm…are you coming back?” you asked him, almost shyly.

“I uh, I can if you want me to. After all, I did drive you here.” Steve shifted to reposition a now sleepy and very slouched Robin while simultaneously trying his damnedest to avoid your eyes.

“Steve,” you beckoned him to look at you. “I didn’t invite you with us just to be our driver. I wanted you to have some fun too.”

Steve knew that. He knew that you actually cared about him and wanted him to be a part of your life. Yet, Steve wasn’t convinced that you’d want him to be part of your life in the same way he did.

“Yeah, sure then,” he replied simply. “I’ll come back later. Will you be okay here by yourself? I know you didn’t have as much to drink as this one,” he gave Robin a nudge causing her to groan. “But still. Parties can get weird nonetheless.”

His concern caused you to smile that gorgeous smile he loved so much. “Thanks, Steve. I’ll be okay though. Promise.”

And with that, Steve set off to haul Robin home. But it was as he was leaving the house that he heard the voice of Little Ralphie Baker enter the room.

~~“I went to the party and I left my pretty baby with Ralphie, baby, and now I’m alone.”~~

Steve returned about a half an hour later ready to laugh with you about how difficult Robin was to sneak into her house while wasted. She was all uncoordinated limbs, swapping between jaunty giggles and annoyed groans. Except as he entered through the living room’s front door, his ears were met with the sound of your melodic laughter. There you were, holding your solo cup and stood beside none other than Little Ralphie Baker. His now broad shoulders were squared to your petite frame, narrowed eyes gazing down upon what Steve could only imagine was your chest and, of course, smiling a devilish grin. And you – you were taking it all in! Just standing there chatting and laughing with the new king of Hawkins High.

Steve felt his stomach knot in jealousy while it seemed as though his heart fell right out of his chest. Sure, he could waltz over there and butt in. He knew exactly what Ralphie was doing; Steve used to pull the same shallow moves himself. But the fact of the matter was, despite how much Steve loved you, you were never really his to lose to begin with.

Steve wanted to run. He wanted to jump in his car, speed home and burry himself under his duvet. He hated how each and every time he felt something genuine for a girl, she never felt the same way. Steve had tried so hard to change and be a better person, yet he still couldn’t find anyone to love him for who he had become. He thought that person could have been you, but once again he had clearly been wrong.

~~“And now I'm feeling something and I know she's doing better, without me, baby guess I'll go home whether that's with or without you.”~~

The gravel crunched under his sneakers as Steve marched himself back to his car. He got in and slammed the door, hands slapping against the steering wheel. He slid one off, about to put keys in the ignition when he stopped. He had made you a promise. Even if he refused to witness the rest of the party, he would still wait here to drive you home when you were ready to leave.

With a sigh, Steve turned the key only slightly, allowing his radio to come to life. Like a curse, Heaven’s romantic notes filled the car, and Steve yanked the dial to the right until something more upbeat replaced it. He let his head bounce back against the headrest and closed his eyes, dreading the inevitably long wait until you were finished partying with Little Ralphie Baker.

Then suddenly, a soft rap sounded on the passenger’s side window of the burgundy bimmer. Steve jumped, peering through fallen locks of brown hair towards the sound. It was you.

You gave a small wave and smile as he reached over to unlock the door and let you in. Confusion was etched across his entire face. “What are you doing here?” he stammered.

You gazed at him with your own hint of bewilderment. “Uh, getting in your car?” you reflected the question back at him as you buckled your belt.

“Why?” he said a little too coldly. “The party isn’t over yet.” Steve couldn’t bare to look at you any longer. He didn’t want to show you just how stupidly jealous seeing you with someone else had made him.

“What the heck has gotten into you, Steve?” you fired back, angling yourself towards him in the velvety seat.

Steve paused. This was not the can of worms he wanted to open right now. You still had alcohol in your system and Steve was high on his feelings for you. It could never end well, he thought. “Nothing,” he dismissed, once again reaching for the ignition.

“Steve,” you spoke smoothly. Then your hand reached for his forearm. Steve swore your touch would burn a hole in his sweater, but that voice, that sweet, calm, soothing voice...it compelled him stop and turn.

“What’s wrong?” you asked when he finally met your gaze.

Those big eyes of yours were so sincere and so sweet. How could he not tell you the truth? “I just,” he began, voice low in the small space of the car. “I just thought you’d want to stay longer. I walked in earlier and saw you with Ralphie Baker. Seemed like you two were getting along well.”

“Ralphie Baker?” you scoffed. “Ralphie Baker?! I couldn’t get that creep away from me fast enough!” you exclaimed. “He wouldn’t stop staring at my boobs! I didn’t want to make a scene or else I would have given him a slap.”

With your words, the vice around Steve’s chest suddenly released. His eyebrows unknitted and those dark eyes lit up in the dim light. “Really?” he spoke meekly. Shaking himself out of it, he continued, “Sorry, I should have stepped in to help…”

“Nah, it’s fine,” you assured him. “You came back and that’s all that matters.” Steve found himself captivated by the smile you give him. Maybe he was imagining things, but he was fairly certain that this very smile was one reserved only for him.

Your hand still rested on his forearm, thumb now rubbing lightly over the material of his shirt. The little gesture caused Steve to return a heart-felt grin. Maybe now wasn’t such a horrible time to lay it all on the line. It’s a huge leap, but the pounding of his heart was never going to stop if he didn’t say something.

“I,” Steve inhaled deeply. “I promised that I would come back, and I care too much about you to ever go back on my word.” That was a start. Just come out and say it, Steve. He examined your features closely for any signs of discomfort. Instead, all he found was intrigue. “I,” he began again. It was hard to hear his own thoughts over the sound of his pulse in his ears.

But before he could finish, Steve witnessed you leaning across the center console, hand using his forearm for leverage. And the next thing he knew, your lips were brushing softly against his. The kiss was better than he could have ever imagined. A million butterflies exploded inside his tummy and he found his free hand making its way to cup your cheek of its own accord.

As the pair of you leaned back, Steve’s face was plastered with a dopey grin. Yours was in much the same state. “I’ve been trying to figure you out all summer, Harrington,” you whispered. “I just never knew if I was reading the signals clearly.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot towards the roof. “Really?” he spoke gently.

“You were jealous about Ralphie, weren’t you?” you quipped. Steve opened his mouth to deny but you quickly added, “It wasn’t my intention, just so you know, but seeing you out here moping at least gave me the confirmation I needed.”

A warmth spread throughout Steve’s chest. “I guess I’m not so good at hiding my feelings, huh?”

You shook your head at him affectionately.

He smirked. “What am I feeling right now, then?” 

“Hmm,” you pretended to contemplate. “I think you wanna take me out for a late-night milkshake, but only after you kiss me again here first.”

The twinkle in your eye made Steve’s heart melt. “You really can read me like a book,” he grinned before leaning into your lips once more.

~~“And when I see something I like you know that I gotta pounce. All the things that you say, say, say, I can trust every ounce.”~~

Thank you for reading and feedback is loved!

[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags - Part 1: Be Still

AN: You will never know how many times I've smiled seeing all the notifications for this. Thank you for making my return to fan fic writing a happy occasion. I hope I live up to your expectations (and please bare with me when I say it's been a while (Do I dare say 8 years?!)).

We start off sad, but it gets better for these two <3

PSA: I will have the status of each part posted at the top of the Masterlist post. Check it out to see where I'm at :)

Copying or redistributing to another site is prohibited.

___________________________________________________________

❗️18+, strong language, angst, death of a parent/sibling, godmother reader/original female character, supportive dagger squad.

#3K Words

Masterlist | Part 2

You had gotten the call on a Friday night while working at the Hard Deck. 

You had rang someone up for putting their phone on Penny’s bar. The laughter was contagious, with lines of Navy pilots coming up to claim their free drink. Some of the Dagger squad were there enjoying the night: Rooster, Phoenix and Coyote, with whom you developed a fast friendship. You were only a few weeks back into the job you considered your saving grace during school. 

You were collecting empty bottles from the piano where Rooster sat almost every night. It was an average night. Then you felt your phone vibrate hard in your back pocket. 

Juggling the empty bottles into one handle, you answered it, initially not recognizing the number. 

“Hello, am I speaking to Elizabeth Beck?” 

“Speaking,” 

“I’m Ridley Beck’s Lawyer. I’m sorry to inform you over the phone, but your sister has passed away in an accident. Are you able to come down to Sacramento?” 

The two bottles slipped from your hand, shattering on impact with the floor. Someone must have boxed your ears and shoved cotton down your mouth. Your voice was hoarse as you managed a “Sadie. Um... What about Sadie?” 

Sadie, your ten-year-old niece. Sadie, who loved bugs and butterflies and singing. Sadie, who cried while reading books and asked about your day every single time you called. Sadie, who only had your sister. Sadie, who was now an orphan, alone and scared. 

“She is currently with a friend. As I understand, you are legally listed as her godmother.” 

“Yes, yes, I am,” You came up to grip your forearm as you suddenly felt off-balanced.  “Am I able to … Can I come and get her?” 

Your discussion with the person on the other end went over your head. Besides the person on the phone and your heartbeat in your ear, it could have been silent in the bar. You didn’t realize you had hung up your phone until Natasha and Bradley came up behind you to investigate the broken glass. 

“Elizabeth?” Phoenix asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?” 

You turned to face the pair, tears spilling over. “My… My sister just died.” 

“Oh, Liz,” Nat pulled you into her arms, pressing your head hard into her shoulder. You were failing miserably, trying to keep the tears at bay. 

“Your niece?” Rooster questioned, feeling his hand land softly on your back. 

“With a friend. I need to get her. I.. need to go to Sacramento.” 

You pulled away from Nat, wiping your eyes. You missed the look Bradley and Nat gave each other, too preoccupied with wondering how Sadie was faring and what might be waiting for you upon your arrival. 

“We’ll come with you. You shouldn’t have to do this alone,” Rooster still looking at Phoenix, who nodded. 

You looked up shocked. “You guys have training. You can’t just drop everything.” 

“I have some time left,” Nat quickly assured you before Rooster replied, “And I have a favour to cash in with Mav.” 

You shook your head, “No, I can’t ask you to waste it on me.” 

“Hey, we aren’t wasting it.” Nat pulled you back to her side, an arm securely wrapped around your waist. “You’re our friend. How many times have you taken care of our asses? Let us return the favour.” 

You relented. Penny let you leave early with tears in her eyes, a long hug and a promise you would call her when you arrived safely. The morning after, the three of you piled into Phoneix’s truck, beginning the journey to Sadie. While Rooster volunteered to drive and Phoenix slept, you couldn’t help but stare out the window, grieving the life you and Sadie would now have without your sister.

___

You thought the walk to Sadie’s friend’s house would have let you mentally clear your head. The drive from North Island had given you time to think about what you might say or what to expect. Yet, standing on the front step of the unfamiliar house, the words you so carefully considered escaped you.

You forced yourself to knock on the door, a wave of nausea hitting you with each passing moment. You smiled at the woman who opened the door. Thank yous spilling from your lips for watching Sadie. She only pulled you into a hug and gave you her condolences. The words, “I’m sorry for your loss,” hit you harder each time someone offered them. 

She invited you inside and led you upstairs to a room at the end of a gray hallway with a sad smile, “Take as long as you need.” 

You took a deep breath. The door was slightly ajar, and as you lightly pressed on it, your niece came into view through the crack. 

There she was, short blonde hair hiding her face, sitting on a bed in the centre of the room. A blanket had been wrapped tightly around her body. She was struggling, trying as hard as possible to control her sobs while her eyes remained fixed on a spot on the floor. You cursed her so-called friend for leaving her alone.  

 Placing three knocks on the door, her eyes shot up. 

“Hi, Bug.” 

“Aunt Liz!” she sobbed, arms abandoning the blanket to reach for you, red blotches splattering her face. 

You went to her, collapsing to your knees before the bed. Her arms clutched you tightly, and her head fell into your neck. Her struggle ceased when she touched you as if your presence permitted her to cry. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the wave of heart-wrenching sobs, her questions of why, why, why spilling out of her. For everything you thought about saying to her, in the end, what could you say or do but let her cry? 

You don’t know how long you spent kneeling on that floor, holding her as she finally tired herself out. Knees aching, you found the strength to move and speak after she resorted to sniffling into your neck. 

“I can never replace your mom, but you have me, Sadie,” leaning back, fingers softly tucking a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear. “I’m always going be here for you.” 

She openly wept, “There was a storm, and she was coming to pick me up. There was a test, and I needed help. It's my fault she’s gone. If I didn’t need help, if I paid attention harder in class, she never would have...” You silenced her, placing your hands on her cheeks. 

“It wasn’t your fault, Bug. It could never be your fault. Please understand that.” She shook her head, her breath starting to pick up again. 

“Sadie, it was an accident. She could have walked here from the townhouse to get to you. She was in her car for another reason. It wasn’t your fault. Please, sweetheart.” 

Her internal struggle was written all over her face. “You weren’t the tree. You didn’t cause the storm,” your voice soft. 

Her eyes locked on to yours, teeth working her bottom lip. You could see the moment her face relaxed and a nod shortly after that. Your hand came up to wipe her cheek. 

“We have to go home now to sort out everything,” you took a deep breath. “It's going to be harder than anything the both of us will ever do, but we can’t put it off.” 

She nodded absentmindedly. “Do you think we could be strong for each other while we do this? Then when it's over, we can be there for each other?” 

She fiddled with the edge of the blanket, “Does this mean I’m coming home with you to North Island?” 

A pause. Then you nodded, “I know it’s not ideal, and your life is here, but..” 

She interrupted you, shaking her head, “I don’t wanna be here anymore, Aunt Liz. There are too many memories of her. It's okay.”  

Her understanding, and her wanting to leave the home she had known since birth, made a fresh wave of tears rush to the surface. You tugged her back into your embrace. 

“I want to be strong for mum and you.” 

Your tears fell. “I miss her too, Bug. More than anything.”

___

Rooster and Phoneix were waiting for you back at the townhouse. As the both of you walked up the driveway, you noticed a small trailer and cardboard boxes. They must have found them while you went to get Sadie. 

Sadie froze on the front step once she noticed them opening the door. She shifted behind your legs, hiding out of their sight. 

“Bug, these are..” you started to say but paused. 

“I’m your Aunt Natasha. This is your Uncle Rooster,” Nat finished for you, kneeling just a few feet away. Her eyes tracked from you down to Sadie as she added, “We’re friends with your Aunt.” 

Rooster followed Nat’s lead, kneeling on the opposite side of her, “We didn’t want you and your Aunt to be alone.”

Sadie peered out from behind your leg, eyeing Rooster carefully. “You’re Bradley,” She sniffed, wiping her nose. “You don’t have your parents either.”  

Before, you used to call them a lot, sharing the details of life in the Navy-centric town. Ridley constantly pressured you about finding a hunk of an aviator boyfriend, but Sadie was always interested in learning about the aviators you called your friends. You always entertained her. It didn’t surprise you she remembered Rooster had no family left. 

“No, I don’t,” He replied. A sad smile broke through your tears as you watched Sadie quickly step out from behind you to wrap her arms around Rooster’s neck. 

Rooster immediately looked up at you while returning her hug. Sadie curled herself into him tighter, her voice quiet as she asked, “Maybe we could look out for each other?”

Rooster closed his eyes and gave a soft smile before pulling back to look at her. 

“Of course, we can, Bug. We aren’t going anywhere.” 

___

In the first few weeks after bringing Sadie home, she only wanted to stay in your bed, wrapped up in one of the blankets you took from Ridley’s bed. The funeral was still fresh in both of your minds; the image of Sadie gripping Rooster’s hand as she dropped the first handful of dirt onto your sister’s coffin would haunt you for the rest of your life. As much as you were grieving your sister, she was grieving the only parent she knew. 

While you tried to process your own way and stay strong for your niece, Sadie tried to hide her struggle. The minute you returned home, you expected her to cave hard. But she didn’t. 

You had to give her credit. She was trying. A strained smile at the dinner table. A forced reply as you asked her how her day had been at her new school. She did all her chores and homework and ran errands with you. She never protested or acted out. Maybe she was expecting you to give first. Neither of you did—the promise to stay strong for each other lasted longer than you thought. 

Rooster and Phoneix came around a lot during those first few weeks. You had invited them to dinner one Saturday night as a thank you, and Rooster instantly sought Sadie out, finding her in your backyard pulling at strands of grass. 

He listened to her grieve, and as much as you wished she’d open up to you, you were happy she was talking to someone. Rooster understood what she was going through, and you were grateful he was there for her. And that followed when you couldn’t pick her up from school, Bradley eagerly volunteering where he could, taking her out after school. 

Then, one day Phoenix showed up at your doorstep with a soccer ball and a cheery smile. You had previously attempted to get Sadie outside, drives along the west coast with blasting music. Despite saying she had a good time with a soft smile, something in her gaze told you she was in pain. 

Nat pulled Sadie off the couch. The two often practiced in the backyard, Nat using the sport to bond with her. After learning she had difficulty fitting in at her new school, Nat taught Sadie how to confront the girls who picked on her. The part of Sadie who loved to be witty suddenly came back in full force when you picked her up from school one day, a smile on her face and an answer to your daily question of how her day had been. ‘Those girls wouldn’t bother me anymore’ was her reply. 

With Rooster came Maverick. The ‘fun uncle’ she liked to call him. Who took her flying and, after some convincing, on bike rides. You could vividly remember hearing the first burst of giggles through the headset while waiting on the airstrip, the first time she laughed since coming home with you. The sound healed a small part of your heart that broke with Ridley’s death. 

Penny spoiled her to no end when she came into the picture. Amelia usually spent Wednesday nights helping her with homework. Sadie’s love for reading returned full force, asking you to take her to the library almost every week. You eagerly obliged. 

Things improved drastically with Bob coming into the picture. Since returning to the Hard Deck, you hadn’t met the WSO initially, but after a tag along with Phoneix, he quickly became one of Sadie’s favourite people. He shared Sadie’s interest in everything related to insects. The nickname your sister teased her with, Bug, now an honorary call sign. Sadie was lighting up more, wanting to go on nature hikes with you and do things she was passionate about. 

Then out of nowhere, Coyote volunteered to barque on Saturday nights with the squad. Fanboy was geeking out with her over the most recent superhero movies. And Payback was suddenly playing video games with her, Mario Kart and Mario Party instant smack talk conversation starters. 

Almost every Saturday night, the Daggers were at your house, taking it upon themselves to be around whenever they could, to be part of your lives as you both adapted to a life without Ridley. You couldn’t be any more grateful.

You learned not all of the Daggers ended up in your Saturday Night group at one of Sadie’s soccer games. You, Rooster, Phoenix, and Coyote were sitting on a metal bleacher, sharing a bag of oranges as you watched Sadie. 

“Hangman comes back from Texas tomorrow,” you heard Coyote telling Rooster, who immediately scoffed.  

You pulled a face. “I know that name. Why do I know that name?” 

“He’s the one who saved Mav and Rooster on the Uranium mission,” Phoenix reached over to grab an orange slice out of the bag on your lap, soon followed by Rooster. “He and Rooster have a professional rivalry.” 

“Oh really?” You giggled. “I thought all the Daggers were back.” 

“Nah, he wanted to spend more time with his family,” Coyote replied before cheering for Sadie as she made a break for the ball.

‘Hangman,’ the call sign replayed your head. Penny often warned you about the pilots who came through the Hard Deck. More often, it was to warn the unfortunate girls who simply wanted to enjoy a night out. Or to recommend going after if they wanted a good time. 

Then it clicked, “Oh, Penny has his name on the list in the girl's bathroom.” 

Rooster squeaked out almost choking on his orange, “That thing exists?!”

You and Phoneix snickered. “Why, you wondering if you made the cut, Bradshaw?” 

Rooster’s weak throw of his orange peel had the both of you leaning back, trying to escape, laughter and protests spilling from both of your lips. Coyote could only shake his head. 

You knew the humorous story behind Rooster’s call sign and the more dauntless one behind Phoneix’s. Coyote got his simply by yipping at every successful moment or when someone was playfully dragged. But something like Hangman? Taking a guess, his story was nothing like how your friends got theirs. 

You hesitantly asked, “How did he get the name?”

Natasha was the first to reply. “Back in basic during our first dog fight. He left his wingman out to dry. Don’t know what he was trying to prove, but his wingman was marked within seconds. He got one hell of a breakdown from the instructor, calling him the noose that would kill anyone who would fly with him.” 

“He’s run with it ever since. Proving it in more ways than one,” Rooster added. You could practically hear the eyeroll.  

Your disappointment was evident, “Ugh, I’m surprised it's not just his name on Penny’s list.” 

Suddenly a round of replies went around the group. 

“Yeah, he’s not going anywhere near Sadie or you,” Rooster sneered. 

Coyote pipped up, eyes still on the game, “He may be my friend, but we don’t need him to be an asshole around Sadie.”

“He’d flirt with any female within a five-mile radius to get them into his bed, and you don’t deserve that,” Phoenix scoffed. 

You weren’t surprised. The cocky aviator type was a personality you frequently saw with the younger pilots working at the Hard Deck. Being accepted into Top Gun gave them the impression any woman jumped at the chance to be another notch in their bedpost. Several proved differently, but more often than not, you were rebuffing attempts. 

You frowned. Sadie getting hurt was continuously on your mind, often wondering what it would take to knock down the progress she had made these past few weeks. A cocky pilot who left his teammates out to dry? It was possible, but you only liked to judge someone after you met them. 

“He doesn’t get invited to Saturday nights.”

You whipped your head. “Rooster! I will not exclude someone from your squad because of some rivalry. You guys shack up at my house whenever you please. I won’t be responsible for your team falling apart because somebody wasn’t invited to someone’s birthday party.” Then an afterthought, “Watch him not come anyway.” 

“Liz, why do you think Penny’s strapped for bartenders? Particularly of the female sort?” 

Penny’s plea for you to return to your old job included a long-winded speech about her difficulties retaining staff. The story she told of a girl with a broken heart after a one-night stand came to mind. 

You let out a long groan, head falling into your lap at the implication, “He hooked up with them?” 

“We think he has a thing for bartenders. We have a tally.” 

That explained why Penny put his name up in the girl's bathroom, why she was subtly dropping hints about you ‘having a good head on your shoulders’ since you returned. 

“We like you, and you’re our friend. Please don’t fall for his charms. For Sadie’s sake.” 

You reached over to pat his shoulder, “I’m a big girl, Bradley. You should know by now guys like that don’t phase me. I’m not the type who does one-night stands.” 

Rooster squeezed your hand before his attention shifted back to the game.

As you watched Sadie pass the ball to a team member who shot up toward the goalie, you couldn’t help but focus on their words.

Hangman sounded like being a dick was a large part of his personality. He wouldn’t have wasted the opportunity to do something creative on his helmet with a call sign like his. His ego wouldn’t let him.  

As the boys cheered for the goal on Sadie’s team, you leaned over to Natasha, 

“Don’t tell me. His helmet, like the game…. certain letters are missing?”

Phoenix shrugged before drinking her water, “You said it, not me.” 

You pointed your finger in your mouth and gagged.

Tag List: @blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891

Are you interested in joining the tag list? Leave a comment or let me know!

Jake is in the next part!

Wickett :)

[daddyy333]

It’s not okay | Joseph Quinn x y/n

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 0.9k

warnings: implies abusive experiences in the past, ?

summary: you flinch during an argument and it worries the shit out of Joseph

“I am not comfortable with you hanging out with her so much, you’re always with her! You skipped date night two weeks in a row for her!” You said, referring to Grace. You’d been missing Joe so badly for months, you thought since filming ended you’d get your boyfriend back but he was still always ou of the house, hanging out with the other cast members, especially Grace.

You didn’t dislike Grace. She was a nice girl, and she was gorgeous and you’d seen her acting which was phenomenal. You just hated that she was getting all your boyfriend's attention. At this rate, he’ll probably forget about your anniversary coming up in 3 weeks.

“You’re being a little overdramatic, babe! We’re just friends, why can’t you understand that?!” He yelled back. You groaned, turning around and consequently being right in his face.

“I get that you’re just friends but you spend all your time with her now! I want my boyfriend back, Joe, you’ve been so busy these last 2 years. I fucking miss you!” You said. Joe went to brush your hair out of your face and then cup your cheek but you gasped and flinched away from his touch.

You didn’t mean to, you didn’t even realize you were so anxious but all the yelling back and forth must’ve gotten you all worked up. His eyes widened and he looked so scared.

“Wha- w-why did you flinch?” He said and you rolled your eyes. You sighed and said “I don’t know, Joe, it was just a reaction, okay? I didn’t mean to” “A-Am I- do I hurt you? D-Do I scare you?” He asked, looking down at his hands.

You took a deep breath and said “no, Joseph. Whatever, just keep hanging out with Grace and I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Dinners done just let it cool down for a few minutes”

You groaned and went to the bedroom, not exactly slamming the door but certainly using to express your anger towards him. You took a shower and just went to bed, you didn’t want to see him right now and since everything was Grace Grace Grace that wouldn’t be a problem for him.

Except, it was. He was frozen. 10 minutes he stood there, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. Why did you flinch? Did you think he was going to hit you? Does he hit you? No, he doesn’t remember it. Maybe he blacks out when he does.

It scared the hell out of him. Why would you feel the need to flinch when he reached to touch your face? He doesn’t remember hitting you, but you flinched.

He tried to eat dinner but ended up putting most of it away for leftovers anyways. He almost didn’t want to see you the next morning, he felt like some kind of monster.

That only made you more upset. 3 days passed before you had a proper moment together and you weren’t gonna give it up. “God damn it, stop avoiding me! Why can’t you just listen to me?” You said as he left the kitchen just as you came in for the 10th time since your fight.

He sighed softly and said “I’m not avoiding you” “you won’t even stay in the same room with me! What, did you sleep with her or something?” You asked and scoffed. He bit his lip, looking down nervously. He took a deep breath and said “y-…you flinched. The other day, when I went to brush your hair out of your face while we were arguing. I was actually going to cup your cheeks and apologize but I just…y-you flinched,”

“Joseph, I’m fine. It was just heat of the moment, okay?” You said and rolled your eyes. You grabbed a bottle of wine and poured yourself a glass, sipping the entire thing down and pouring yourself another.

“No, it’s not fine. No other woman I’ve been with has ever flinched during an argument. D-…do I hit you and like…not remember it? D-Do I scare you?” He asked and you sighed. You turned to him and said “growing up…disobeying or arguing with my father usually ended up far worse than some yelling and avoiding each other for a few days. If I could help it, Joe, I wouldn’t flinch. But I can’t. No matter how much I trust you, I’ll never not flinch. It’s not you, Joseph, I swear”

“Oh god…oh, sweetheart…” he said and you took a deep, shaky breath. You turned around and took another sip of wine, trying not to think about it too much. He hugged you from behind and said “I- god, I’m so sorry…I didn’t know, I shouldn’t have pressured you to tell me, god I’m so self-centered”

“N-No, Joe. You have every right t-to be concerned, I just…it feels stupid. A-And I hate that it still affects me. You don’t deserve to worry if I scare you, you’re an incredible boyfriend, really” you said and he sighed. He kissed your head and said “not as of late” “I just need to learn to share you, that’s all. I’m sorry” you said and he took a deep breath.

He caressed your waist and said “I’m sorry too. For everything, really. I wish you hadn’t gone through that, love” “it’s fine…I’m fine” you said and he shook his head. He kissed your cheek and said “it’s not okay, my love. But now that I know, I will be more careful in the future. N-Not that I want us to argue I just mean that-”

“I know, Joey. Thank you…for understanding” you said. He chuckled nervously and said “of course, sweetheart. I love you” “I love you too” you said and smiled.

Taglist: @kellysimagines @readsalot73 @hellfire1986baby

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Joseph Quinn

Jamie Bower

Steve Harrington

Robin Buckley

Maya Hawke

Lo’ak

Neteyam

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

[greypetrel]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you @daggerbean for the tag! And welcome back, consider yourself tagged back if you have something else! <3 Another slow week, a last-minute project took me away... Next I'll have something more, hopefully.

Some Cullavellan, it's been a while. Cullen tried again at challenging her to a drinking game. She was raised Dalish with home-brewed spirits and can't be beaten, just brought to sing.

Whale AU shenanigans, the original one: bed-ridden raccoons are a delight to have around when you're writing the essay of your life, absolutely. (traditional from my sketchbook!)

Some writing under the cut, I'm slow these days but I'm working on some silly thing.

Tagging: @salsedinepicta @ndostairlyrium @dungeons-and-dragon-age @melisusthewee @dreadfutures @pinayelf @whimsyswastry @sapphireangelbunny @flotttemotte @underneathestars

It was all going well, and she was chatting with Josephine and her sister Yvette about Antiva and vernissages, when the weird dish appeared.

A waiter stopped by the trio, perfectly still with a silver tray balanced on his gloved hand. He cleared his throat, once and twice, and when Aisling finally turned and asked him with a smile what she could do for him, the waiter lowered the tray with grace.

And presented her with a small china bowl, richly decorated in blue hunting scenes with gold details… Full of salad.

Aisling took the bowl with one end, the offered tiny fork with the other and thanked the waiter. She didn’t miss how both Montilyet sisters gasped, ad viewing the content of the bowl. Josephine with worry, Yvette with excitement.

Aisling looked at them and found the same emotions on their faces.

She had no idea about why such a gesture could elicit such a reaction from them. Looking down at the content of the bowl, it was just filled with arugula leaves, so freshly green they must have been just picked, and neatly washed before being served.

It was a little weird that there seemed to be no other ingredient to the dish, and no dressing whatsoever, but it also was true that Aisling wasn’t the best judge over how Orlais preferred to serve its rocket salad.

It was definitely weird how the whole of the west side of the upper corridor in the ballroom had stopped to look at her. Which explained why Josephine wasn’t telling anything about how she should behave right now, with a bowl of arugula in her hand.

She looked around, felt the expectation radiating in waves and directing at her.

Months ago, she would have been spooked by all the eyes on her.

Months ago, she hadn’t been the Inquisitor for months.

Without any clue about what the Game expected her to do with some salad, she just shrugged and did what it felt a good logical solution.

She dipped the tiny fork in the leaves, picked up a dainty little morsel -little and graceful, just as Josie had taught her- and brought it to her lips, taking a mouthful.

Other people gasped, Aisling just chewed. Spitting now was not an option, she could see it too.

Beside, she quite liked arugula, the bitterness mildened by the spiciness.

It wasn’t the best, unseasoned and alone, and this one came clearly from a greenhouse, for in the wild it would have been too soon, but it was fresh enough and tasty.

And under the scrutiny of half the ballroom, not knowing why exactly everyone had stopped to look at her and now apparently also called their friends and their grandmothers, she ate it all to the last leaf.

“Well, that was refreshing.” She smiled at the crowd when she was finished. “Can I know who sent it? I would really like to thank them for the lovely treat.”

It was, apparently, a good thing to say: some ladies started to giggle, and she could glimpse both the Dowager and Madame De Fer smiling under their masks, brief flashes before they turned away.

Something good must have happened, but she still didn’t understand the start from the end.

[kai-anderson-whore]

Hi! Could you write an angst where Kit takes the punishment for reader in the asylum similar to that scene with grace inside Sister Jude's office?

Please and thank you <3

Yes of course so I decided to go off from the scene and write from there hope you enjoy <3

I’d take the brunt of it (kit walker x reader)

Summary: you planned to escape the asylum with Lana but she didn’t want kit to tag along so she snitched on you both.

Warnings: angst, punishment, caned, asylum, mentions of divorce, escaping the asylum, shouting. Let me know if I have missed anything

Word count: 1,1k

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•.

You spent almost every moment of your day sat on an old chair in the common room watching everyone studying them, but all you could see was how different they were to you. They were insane or have severe mental health issues that means they can be within the public. You weren't supposed to be in here only because your now ex husband placed you in here before he had divorced you.

You hated it here. You felt like you were beginning to go insane with everything staring at the same faces the same rooms, same mistreatment and that song on repeat for four years. You were sick and tired until he came along. Kit Walker everyone knew him as bloody face the horrendous man that killed those women including his own wife.

But to you he was just Kit, the sweet caring person that never showed any killer signs. You knew from the moment you laid eyes on him he was innocent. That's how you became friends. You taught him everything he needed to know to survive this god forsaken hellhole. Another thing you taught him was that you couldn't escape.

But kit was determined to escape this place if it even means he goes out here dead. You knew there was no way out everyone knew until you both met Lana winters. You became friendly with her she promised a way out for you both but you didn't want to leave without kit.

"No he's not coming with us for Christ sake he's a god damn murder" Lana seethed through her teeth in a hushed yet harsh tone. "I'm not leaving without him Lana he's innocent I know he is" you sighed sticking up for kit. "How do you know what are you both together or something because he wouldn't be in here if he wasn't" Lana snapped at you rolling the dough with the rolling pin.

"So what if we are, plus your in here through blackmail I'm in here because my ex husband put me in here so I don't get his money from the divorce guess we are all in here for the wrong reasons" you proved a point your hands aching from needing the dough. "I said no and that's final" Lana stated ending this conversation.

But you waited till the time had come to escape the asylum. Something was happening within the asylum everyone's attention was somewhere else you grabbed kit's hand running for the doors "what are you doing bringing him y/n" the anger in lana's voice didn't bother you, your target only being getting through those doors into freedom.

"He's coming lana if you like it or not" you said dragging kit rushing to those doors. "HELP HE'S ESCAPING, THE KILLER IS ESCAPING HELP ME" Lana screamed. You and kit turned back trying to get Lana to stop but before you knew it two guards pinned you both to the ground. You felt the defeated you were so close yet so far from the freedom you deserved.

Everything was a blur to you. You couldn't remember what happened after that all you remember was being dragged to sister Jude's office by the guards kit behind you. "Well, well, well look who it is the escape artists" sister Jude tutted with a wicked smirk on her face. You hung your head low fearful for the punishment you both would receive.

You heard the door open you turned your head to see Lana there with a guilty look on her face. "You snitch you know we both don't deserve to be here why Lana" you yelled in anger. Your blood boiled even looking at her as she just stared at her feet in guilt. Kit just watched you kicking off till sister Jude stopped you. "Stop this y/n" she warned.

You and kit's bodies leaned against the cold wood, scrunching your eyes shut awaiting for the horrifying punishment you will receive. Your hospital gown exposing you from the back you heard sister Jude thanking Lana for her honesty. "Now as a reward I want you to pick what cane to use" you heard footsteps from behind. Turning your head to see sister Jude opening the cabinet revealing the selection of canes one more taunting than the other.

Lana picked out a thin cane holding it up to sister Jude for somewhat of an approval which she only sniggers at. "Your too kind Lana banana" she says picking a much thicker one making her way to you. "Twenty each that seem fair enough" sister Jude calls out you felt the cold wood against the back of your thighs just as she pulled the cane away, your eyes scrunched shut holding your breath waiting on the punishment.

"Wait sister Jude y/n had nothing to do with it she didn't want to leave I dragged her I should be the one getting punished not her" kit spoke up standing straight your eyes shot wide open. "Very well then that means 40 for you mr walker but miss y/l/n you watch as a reminder if you ever step out of line" sister Jude stated waving the cane around.

You slowly got up making your way to stand by Lana the fear still filled within your eyes. Sister Jude raised her cane to kit smacking the wood on the backs of his knees. You saw the pain in his eyes but he never cried out in pain, but his face didn’t fail to show how much pain he was in. The tears falling down your cheeks you wished it was you receiving the punishment instead of him.

With each smack you flinched, the sound of the cane smacking off his skin seemed to get louder and louder till all 40 hits were completed. His skin red raw almost bleeding “take them to the common room” sister Jude dismissed all of you getting took back to the common room. The same song still played you stayed close to kit helping him to sit down.

“AHHH” kit practically screamed as he sat on the chair. “Slowly kit” you said helping him out the tears still falling down your face, kit saw you crying not even caring if he’s in pain. “Hey are you okay” he asked wiping your tears with the pads of his thumb. You shook your head sniffling “no I’m so sorry kit you shouldn’t have taken the blame for me it was all me yet you got the brunt of it all, I feel so guilty” you sobbed lightly.

“I wouldn’t want you getting caned I’d gladly do it again if it means you won’t get hurt” kit smiled trying to make you feel better. “We were so close” you whispered resting your head on his shoulder. “We’ll get out here one day I promise” kit whispered back taking your hand in his. “I hope so”.

[skyrim-forever]

The Dragonborn's Inferno

Since my silly little post about wanting to write a crossover TES/Divine Comedy garnered a lot of interest I decided to go ahead and give it a shot! This is a little scene I'm working on for Canto I of Inferno.

Tagging those who showed interested in reading: @greyborn2 @lucien-lachance @thana-topsy @naturalbornlosers @ladytanithia @alicehealer @abstractredd @saffronornah @faenamoonseeker @notoriousbastardlover @alpha-centauriiae <3

Thank you so much for your interest it was really motivating, I hope you enjoy!

Canto I

Ascended half-way up the mountain  I found myself obscured in snow Confused, and I knew I lost the way

There was no way to tell where I was The snow blowing wildly in the wind To remember it sends a shiver down my spine

The wind so biting, but not worse than death itself Arkay’s embrace had eluded me that day For there was good to be found on that mountain

The wind had cleared to let me see That I was at the Throat of the World All of Tamriel within my vision

I could see much further than any time prior From the Adamantine Tower in High Rock To the festering jewel of Black Marsh

But the view did not remain mine alone For from behind me came the roar of a troll A frost troll, one that I had recognized 

Having fought this valiant foe before I was surprised to have found it again Especially now, on one such day

The troll lunges for my arm Narrowly dodging it’s fearsome claws I went to ready an attack

I did not have time to go on the offence For a golden figure appeared between the troll and I Reduced it to nothing but dust 

“Have mercy on me you, you the man before me” I shouted to the figure A figure which transformed into a man

A man of simple robes And medium length tawny hair Stood before me, his smile warm

“No longer a man, but in my mortal life I was one. I was born in the Imperial Province A commoner, meant to fulfill a divine purpose.

My youth was spent in debauchery, Until I found the Divines. Who never intended for me to rule.”

How could I have not known? I open my mouth to speak Fearful of stuttering in his presence

“For you are Emperor Martin Septim, 

The leader, the martyr, who died for Tamriel. You who embodied Akatosh in that great battle.”

I finished my statement by bowing Grateful that he had appeared to me To know that I did not walk this plane alone

“I come to you now, in my true form, Despite it all, in my heart I am but a priest, acting in his will”

Gesturing for me to stand up,  I obeyed the Emperor To which he spoke again to me

“You who have lived a thousand lives Dragonborn does not cover the extent of you life” The Avatar of Akatosh tells me

“You who have been Listener and Guildmaster, Moon-born and Vampire,  Stormcloak and Legionnaire”

I was humbled by his kind words That the Hero of the Oblivion Crisis And last true Emperor, would even speak to me

“You flatter me my liege But I stand but a humble individual Graced in your divine light”

And I continued to speak my praises “You who, along with the Hero of Kvatch Succeeded in destroying Mehrunes Dagon”

Through the grace of Akatosh, he laughed A slight chuckle in good will Divinity had only increased his kindness

“I say nothing that is untrue friend,  For I who has always known you,  See in my heart you, truly, as Akatosh’s chosen”

The Avatar of Akatosh himself Saw me as an equal, even if my actions  Pale in comparison to his

“Please, my Emperor, tell me about that day! The day Kvatch was attacked!” I plead with him

A warm smile emerged on his face “I’m afraid most memories have left me, Memories of my dear friend are gone.”

“Though I may not remember their name, Nor do I remember their face, I do remember the warmth of their friendship”

His eyes closed, basking in the memories “But I do not you are not unlike them Both prisoners burdened by destiny”

A moment of silence fell between us I waited for the last Septim to break it To which he did

“We must make haste Dragonborn,  For I have been asked to guide you. Another divine quest is asked of you”

And so we left that mountain The highest point in Tamriel Followed his lead into the void.