#at this point it was you snooze you loose

[hesztia16]

Promt:

Bruce kept trackers in the people he loved. Ever since Dick was a young boy prone to get kidnapped. Some with consent, some… not so much. But it was a crime he was willing to commit, if only for the way it calmed his nerves when he looked at the little dots on his screen.

Alfred, in the kitchen, working tirelessly on lunch.

Tim, in Drake Manor (much to his annoyance, but he was working on that one), probably enjoying the weekend before school.

Dick, in Bludhaven (again, much to his annoyance) spending his day off with some friends in a coffee shop.

Barbara, in the library, helping visitors.

And the one little dot that always pained him to look at, but couldn’t bring himself to disarm, right above-

Where is it?

There.

Why in all Hell’s name was his son’s body in the hospital instead of the cemetery?

[sincerelybubbles]

hotch x shy!bau!reader <3 fem content: slight age gap implied. reader is new to the team and more on the introverted side! not proof read, as is my hubris.

Tired, nerves buzzing from a night spent up and chasing sleep that was not welcoming, you throw your bag down on your desk and go off in hunt of coffee. You usually try to curb your caffeine intake, especially with the travel associated with your new job, but this morning is a happy exception to your new rule.

"Here," Emily says, watching you scan the cabinets of the kitchen. You hadn't heard her walk in, but she's offering you a mug with a sympathetic smile. "Long night?"

"Yes," you say, tone thankful, and spin to figure out the coffee machine.

"Three weeks and i haven't seen you use that once," she comments, sipping from her own warm mug and watching you settle the filter in place.

"I've stayed away. it's harder to sleep when I get back because of the jet lag, anyway, don't need to add coffee at all odd hours to the list, too."

It's the most you've said in casual conversation like this. To say you've been shy with your new team would be an understatement. You're good at your job, you were pulled from the academy early to do this for a reason. You fit well into the team, generally. You like listening to Spencer ramble, especially on the longer flights. Rossi's dry humor reminds you of one of your old professors you grew up admiring. JJ is a constant breath of fresh air, Morgan's consistent strength has built up your own moral. Garcia took no getting used to, lifting you up and settling into your life easily. Hotch is intimidating but kind under the colder-tones, long glances sometimes distracting but oterhwise comforting. Emily is easily one of your favorites on the team, friendly and whip-smart. But, at the core of it, you're shy. Painfully so, even.

The team caught onto this quick, settling into the truth that your observational nature that makes you so adept at noticing the smaller details is bound to weep into your social life as well. So, despite your comfort levels rising with the team, you find these situations hard. Do you explain your nightmares to Emily? Share that you're a diagnosed insomniac who spent the night watching FRIENDS reruns after chasing sleep that pranced beyond reach?

"You're better than me, then," Emily says, smiling over her mug. Her eyes tell you she's pleased at the little crack into your life that you've let her see. They're all like that: insufferably kind and polite with your introverted nature but greedily sipping up everything they can learn about you.

"It's a new development," you admit, clicking start on the machine and settling back against the counter facing her. Something about your sleepiness makes it easier to talk, your tongue looser, your ache to let loose around the team more profound. "I'm sure most of us are insomniacs, though."

"Not me," Emily says, chuckling. "I get home and feel like I don't wake up until I get back here."

"Ah, well, I'm sure it can feel like a curse no matter what way you fall," you say with a shrug. Emily lifts her coffee in cheers to that.

"Morning," Morgan says, turning into the kitchen and giving you a surprised smile. "Hello, sunshine, you're looking bright eyed today."

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "I know, I know."

Emily points with her chin at you, "She's making the coffee this morning."

"Ah-ah, remaking it because you and pretty boy always get here first and finish the first pot." Morgan teases her with a slight shake of his head, grinning and opening the fridge to pull out the creamer.

"Well, you snooze you loose. Or," she sends you a smile, complete with a little nose wrinkle and a tilt of her head, "you don't snooze and still loose."

"Clever," you say, voice dry with humor, hiding your laugh by turning around as the pot finished brewing. "I'll remember this later."

"Careful, she's got teeth," Morgan warns Emily, reaching around you to grab the coffee before you can and filling his cup.

"Hey!" You call in protest, voice raising louder than usual and a pout hitting your lips. Morgan laughs, white teeth on display, eyes crinkled at the corners.

"Here, here," he says, placating, tipping the pitcher to fill your cup as well. "Any sugar or cream to placate the beast?"

Before you can answer, a laugh on the tip o your tongue, Hotch walks in and settles his watchful eyes on you, interest sparking them. You shrink, not in fear but in self-awareness, and send him a closed lip smile. Stepping away from Morgan, you turn quickly to fix your own coffee.

"Good morning," Hotch says, nodding at Emily and Morgan, answering Emily's question about Jack's recent sickness (he's recovering well, thank you) and trying to catch your eye.

You duck away, cowardly and regressing back into your shell, deciding it's time to get to work and stop indulging. You catch Morgan tease Hotch as you leave, though, "Aw, you've scared her off."

You try not to think about it as you duck away, pushing all thoughts of your boss away.

You're unsuccessful.

The problem isn't that you're afraid of him because you think he's mean or unkind in any way. He's done his best to welcome you to the team, allowing you to take investigations in your own direction and listening to your insights since day one. There was a brief moment in your first week where you felt tested, like his questions weren't to gain your insight but to see if you were up to the task, but you slipped past that easily. you have the credentials to back yourself up. you're quiet, yeah, but you're always right on track to where you need to be. pulled early from academy to jump into investigating was hard but it made this easy. a few years of experience under your belt and the job feels natural and, even with the shift in teams to join the big guns in Quantico, you feel like you're exactly where you're meant to be.

No, embarrassingly, this has nothing to do with you not liking your boss or being afraid of him. Rather, he makes you too comfortable. He ducks his head to hear you speak as you walk and talk, settling deep eyes on your face. He's sturdy, dependable, and exactly everything you're all too interested in.

You hate it, harboring a school crush on your boss like you're a teen pining over your teacher. You know it's normal, you know it's perfectly reasonable and there's absolutely nothing wrong with being attracted to him, but you still slink away from him more than the others because of that attraction.

Because it's more than physical.

He listens when you talk. Granted, so do the rest of the team - they're profilers, of course they catalogue everything everyone is saying for future reference. But, beyond that, you catch him paying attention. He complimented your new blouse earlier in the week and it caused air to catch in your throat, suffocating you. It looked new, bright white and without wrinkles, but you knew he must have been looking, noticing, to remember you not wearing it before. He's kind, remembering details about you and the team and using them to aid in everyone's comfort. He knows Spencer can't handle dairy and you've heard him reminding an intern to stock the dairy-free alternatives for creamer in the jet. He brought you a neck pillow on your second flight because you didn't have one.

That gift you accepted with stuttering thank-you's and a flushed face. It hadn't flared this crush, but it definitely aided in your ability to accept it when you finally got around to no longer avoiding how he made you feel with every kind smile and gentle good morning.

You settle down at your desk, putting your steaming mug on a pile of paperwork you really need to sort through, and try to physically push the thoughts out of your head by ranking your hands through your hair, lifting it from your forehead and squeezing your eyes shut. Today isn't the day. You're too tired, sure that the team will be flying out today, and really need to be on your A-Game.

"Everything okay?" A calm voice asks from your elbow. When you look up, you decide the universe hates you. Hotch is leaning on the desk adjacent to yours, holding his own travel cup full of fresh coffee, chin tilted down to check on you. His gaze is kind, light on your face, and his eyebrows are lifted slightly. You get the feeling that he's doing everything in his power to present himself as less imposing.

"Yes, of course," you answer automatically, heart thudding in your throat.

"You know, you shouldn't lie to profilers," he says, tone teasing, voice still low. "If you're tired, it's okay to admit it to me, too."

You're about to brush him off when something in your brain freezes before clicking into place.

He's looking at you, pleading, expression open. He's usually guarded, professional. Caring, but with a guard up. Rare are these moments of genuine asking, especially rarer so are the moment of pleading hidden behind a mask of gentle humor. You think, briefly, about how it must seem to him. He heard you, Emily, and Morgan joking in the kitchen. You haven't been here long, you're shy, but slowly thawing to everyone but him. He doesn't know your reasons, he couldn't, you've made a genuine effort to hide them, and you force yourself to see it from his perspective.

"Sorry," you say, softly, slowly. "I didn't sleep well. First nightmares and then insomnia. Hence," you gesture toward your mug. You shrug, heart beating out of your chest, eyes searching his. Nice, be nice, be open and kind and yourself. "At least I have FRIENDS reruns to keep me company."

You see something relax in him at your gentle offering of the information. He sends you a not-quite-smile, nodding once and pushing himself off of the desk he was lightly leaning against.

"Take a few minutes, I'm sure JJ will call us in soon." He scans your face for a moment before looking down at your desk. He reaches forward, slowly but with purpose, and lifts a file that has been nagging you for days. The new computer system is hard to get used to and the paperwork load is heavier than you've experienced before. "I can help you with this to ease some of your load, too."

He's walking away before you can protest, tucking the file under his arm and ducking into his office. He moves swiftly, leaving no room for argument, and you're left at your desk, mouth agape and heart in your mouth.

"Wow," Spencer says, jolting you in your chair to spin around and face him. His desk is near yours, across a walkway, and you hadn't registered him sitting there. You think he was nose-deep in a book when you walked in but you hadn't been paying attention. "I don't think I've seen him warm up to someone that fast," Spencer admits, leaning back in his seat and giving you a confused look, eyebrows lowered. "Actually, he's never offered to help me do my paperwork. Ever."

"That's because you read far too fast for it to actually help you," you offer, mind racing, words hollow as your thoughts are elsewhere.

Eyes trained on the windows of Hotch's office, you take his advice and relax for the few minutes before JJ comes to gather you all in the conference room. Coffee on your lips, you let yourself smile behind the rim of your mug. You can't imagine how you could think of anything other than that, really.

[thegnomelord]

yk how they cover fighting dog's eyes in order to calm them down? would that work on Hound or just rile him up more? if it'd calm him down I can imagine when/if he's "better" enough he'd start shoving his face into price or any of the other 141 to feel safer/calm, like nuzzling in between their shoulder blades/neck or if they're lying down together just pushing his head into their arms 😶‍🌫️

hmmm Price holding Hound against his chest to calm him while he claws and begs into his captain's skin for forgiveness because he acted out again, even if Price had already forgiven him🤔

if the loss of sight just makes things worse then I can see all of them always making sure Hound can know where they are, making noise when they can and maybe even dragging their feet a bit so he doesn't swivel his head around constantly to look for them😚 ignore this if u want tho reading it back is making me cringe a bit-

No, no, anon this is great! Y'all are giving me so many ideas♥️

I definitely think Price would have done that to Hound before he got captured, putting his beanie or just his hand over Hound's eyes and talking about Hound like he wasn't even there to basically calm him down. Like you know how you're a kid sitting between your parents and they're talking about you but you're snoozing or something like that. It would have just been comforting for Hound.

But Makarov soured it by using sensory deprivation as a punishment. And a pretty severe one at that, so Hound gets extremely violent when his sight is deprived.

But also like, when Hound's better, letting them cover his eyes as just this huge show of trust just melts my heart. Like:

CW:SFW just a bunch of fluff, cuddle piles

This feels. . . strange.

You're laying on top of Price, practically crushing him beneath your weight, your head and shoulders pushed beneath his loose shirt so you can lay your head on his naked chest. It's dark, and warm, the scent of musk and sweat curls in your nose as his thick chest hair tickles your face with every even breath, his heart beating so calmly beneath your ears.

It's strange. It's the best way you can describe it; a part of you is disgusted with the proximity, panic occasionally jolting through your system and lining your muscles with lead as your body expects for the hit to come any moment. Only for a calloused hand to run down your spine gently, turning your tense muscles into mush.

"You're alright lad." His voice rumbles in his chest, a type of tone that is both calming and commanding. "Just listen to my voice yeah? Good boy," A pleasant shiver runs up your spine as the praise, a low whimper escaping you as you nuzzle your head further into his pecs. Your head feels stuffed with cotton yet his low praises still reach your brain, and it feels strange to get them without any work, to be praised just for simply existing, but it's also. . . nice.

"Oi Price-" You tense immediately as the door suddenly opens, loud voices shooting lightning into your muscles. Price scruffs you through the shirt before you can react any more, calming you down to the point you don't even notice what they're talking about.

"Wh- Soap!" Price shouts.

You feel the bed dip, a disgruntled sound leaving your chest as a body shuffles under Price's shirt next to you. Soap's scent hits your nose before his head bumps into yours, "Yer like a pig in shite pup." His hair scratches your face as he makes himself comfortable on Price's other pec, and you don't need sight to know he's grinning like a fool. "Cozy in 'ere."

"How comfortable are his tits?" Ghost's voice reaches your ears, and it must be his body that lays down next to yours, supporting some of your weight that you're not crushing Price by wrapping a loose hand around your waist. His body is solid against yours, both of them are, Johnny's arm wrapping around you just bellow Simon's hand, unapologetically groping your ass.

"Boys!" Price sputters, and without sight you can only imagine how flushed his face must be, he always got red as a lobster when you'd tease him. "Can't you be decent for one day?"

"We're wearing pants aren't we?" Gaz's laugh sounds somewhere behind you, and you're pretty sure it's Gaz that lays down between your legs, using your ass as a pillow. "Oh, wow," You hear him mumble as if astonished, heat burning across your skin as you feel him nuzzle into your ass.

A low whine escapes your throat without notice, and you're not sure why, just something about the way they handle you, like you're made of glass, makes lightning crackle down your spine.

"Do you want to stop?" Price's voice is non-judgmental, his hand brushing your hair that peeked through the stretched taught neckline of his shirt.

You shut your eyes, breathing in deeply. "No." You say, your arms gripping Price's pudgy stomach even tighter.

You feel Johnny shift closer to you, his lips blindly brushing against yours. "Aye, yer fine bonnie." He grins, and pushes his head to meet your lips in a proper kiss. You can taste the aftertaste of tobacco from his cigarettes and the mints on his tongue.

This is nice. You could get used to this.

[shuaraes]

five minutes | c.sc

- he has never seen such a picturesque sight draped in morning light

oneshot | 1.3k | domestic!au | fluff

if choi seungcheol could choose one memory to keep after death, it would be the ones like this. the ones where he rises slightly early and gets to watch as you wake up to the world. for him it’s the little things: sunshine falling atop his sheets, your limbs intertwined, the pout in your voice begging him to come back to bed. though seungcheol knows for a fact, he would always hit snooze if it meant five more minutes with you.

~ pairing . choi seungcheol x gn!reader

~ content . non idol!au, early mornings with choi seungcheol, oddly sentimental moments lmaoo, fluffiest of domestic fluff, brief banter

~ tw/cw . one slightly suggestive allusion to hickeys but apart from that none at all!

~ song rec . come to me - seventeen

~ author’s note . here’s the surprise i was talking about! apologies for being so inactive, life just had to take priority for once. but i had some free time so i wrote this as a little writing exercise. also i just imagine seungcheol to be the best to wake up to lmaoo. sorry for once again proving i don’t know how to write anything that isn’t pure unfiltered yearning 😭 hope you guys enjoy anyways!

FOR ONCE, IT IS NOT THE DRONING SOUND OF AN ALARM THAT WAKES HIM

but instead the light of the morning - rousing him with its golden-honey rays. Slithers of sunlight burn against his droopy eyelids and he curses himself for forgetting to close his curtains in the evening. He wonders what the time is. With the advent of summer, guessing the time has been harder than a blinded game of Russian roulette. It could be anywhere between 5:30 (he could afford to sleep for a couple more hours) or 11:25 (he might as well not bother showing up to work).

Seungcheol rolls onto his back and cradles his skull with his palm. He drifts his eyes up towards the cream-coloured ceiling, feeling an inexplicable lightness in his chest as it rises with his every breath: ocean waves at high tide. Even though the future stresses of the working day loom at the forefront of his mind, they aren’t tormenting him like they usually do. He isn’t dreading the ring of the alarm. There’s something in his mind and soul that’s scarily at peace, a calmness he only thought he would feel in his dying hours. A sharp snore cuts his train of thought short. Feeling the warmth pressing taut against his side, he realises what the feather-weight feeling in his chest was for.

He flips over to look at you, out like a candlelight. Seungcheol swears he has never seen such a picturesque sight draped in morning light. No painting in a museum could ever come close to this sight of you. Your legs are curled into your torso and hands loosely gripping the sheets. Seungcheol’s eyes are drawn immediately towards your lips, your pillow-soft sighs drift onto the pillow where a tiny pool of salvia is. A thin sheen of sweat, illuminated by golden rays, wraps around your body like a second skin, causing you to glisten like the sun during dawnbreak.

In this moment, you are so peaceful, so calm, so vulnerable. You’re like a god to him, a statue chiselled painstakingly out of marble. Seungcheol has to hold himself back from caressing your puffy cheeks, terrified he’d wake you. You’ve been working long hours recently and today’s your only day of rest. Apart from that, something about watching you catch up on some well-deserved rest burns his heart white-hot with passion.

‘I must have been a saint in my last life to deserve this,’ Seungcheol thinks. As clearly and effortlessly as the chime of a bell of a small bookstore, you entered his life, taking him by surprise. You were like a whirlwind and Seungcheol was enraptured in the eye of your storm. Each day he was falling deeper and deeper, closer and closer to the point of no return. The way your smile and sense of humour makes him float above the clouds, almost as if is high on your presence. If he is, then you’re his favourite drug, that itch that you can never scratch enough, that song that no matter what he does cannot get out of his head.

He thinks about how much he loves you. How much he longs for you when you are not near - how much he wants to worship you until marks, the same colour as pink lemonade, pepper your chest. It almost brings him to tears: the intensity of his feelings in contrast to the softness of the morning light. You’re the most beautiful person to him - mind, body and soul.

Right now, Seungcheol feels content, not in the way you do when finishing a task or lying down with a stomach full of your favourite food. This is different. A contentedness he knows he may never be able to feel again, but the moment is so perfect that he doesn’t need to feel this way again. This morning is already more than enough.

RING-RING

Seungcheol rolls his eyes as the sound of his alarm vibrates deep through his ears. He checks the time. Fuck. He only has 35 minutes to get ready (he could have sworn he set it for earlier). He tries his best to move cautiously, trying not to wake you. But as he sees your body start to shift, he knows his attempts are in vain.

“Sorry sleepyhead,” Seungcheol coos his voice so sweet that it almost fully distracts you from the alarm's monotonous cries. You reply with a quiet 'morning' but you’re not sure if he hears: the sound being muffled by the sheets. He traces mindless patterns across your exposed skin. His fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You squirm slightly at the ticklish feeling, trying to curl away from his touch. Seungcheol can only laugh.

“What?” He knows he’s teasing, the grin on his face ever-wide.

“Shut up…” You turn your body to face him as he sits up, a yawn escaping from the depths of his chest. “How long have you been awake for?”

“A while.” He stretches over your body to hit snooze and you hear the light crackling of his bones as he moves.

“So you’ve just been watching me drool in my sleep this entire time, weirdo.” You say mimicking his previous teasing tone. Seungcheol rolls his eyes but still helps you rub off a small string of dried salvia sitting on the corner of your lip.

“Maybe, maybe not. Though, you are a wonderful sight to behold in the morning.”

“You’re mad.”

“Madly in love with you.” You snort at his words and playfully smack his bare chest as whiny ‘it’s true’s' fall from his pink coral lips. He smiles so wide, that you catch a glimpse of it through the blinding sunlight - a look at his sweet gummy smile. So wide that you can’t help but smile as well.

If Seungcheol were to describe his personality in one word, it would be a realist, maybe a cynic at times. But when it comes to you, he’s a dreamer. You’re the painter who colours over his grey corporate days, the person that keeps him going when his 9–5 starts to feel like a 24-hour shift and it’s your smile he thinks of at the neon red stoplight when he’s racing back home (he hopes you feel the same). He realises that he would do anything for you and it doesn’t anger him in the slightest.

“After you’re off from work, we should do something. Take advantage of the good weather and longer days.” You muse, still looking up at him. With the way tiredness pulls at your eyes you resemble a baby deer. Seungcheol doesn’t even let you finish your sentence before he’s humming in agreement.

“That would be lovely. Hmm, a walk around the city seems nice, there’s this pop-up museum that I think you’d like. We could also-“

RING-RING

You both groan at the cursed sound. Reluctantly, Seungcheol attempts to rub whatever remnants of sleep are left in his eyes (it doesn’t work, he feels more tired afterwards). With a chaste kiss on your forehead, he tries to free himself from the hold of the duvet and many blankets intertwined with his limbs. If he eats breakfast quickly, he may be able to get to work on time. However, as his legs hang over the side of the bed, Seungcheol feels a vice-like grip tighten around his wrist.

“Don’t go.” Your voice sounds so tired yet commanding, as if you were a witch, forcing him into a trance.

“But lovely, work-“

“If you can shower quickly, you can spare five more minutes with me.” You whine. To Seungcheol, there is no point trying to fight it, you’ve already won.

“I suppose I could."

The light giggle that escapes your mouth seals the deal as you drag him back down to drown in the sheets. He throws an arm around your middle and pulls you impossibly closer. Seungcheol knows his alarm is going to go off again in the next five minutes, but as you melt into his embrace like candle wax and press kisses along the base of his neck, he couldn’t care less about hitting snooze again.

For you, he could spare five more minutes.

For you, he would do anything.

[007reid]

u have absolutely no idea what 'coffee caramels' did to me omg 😭 u write spencer and his mannerisms so WELL hsbsghdbdh so i come to u with a lil request if that's okay with u !!

spencer insists on playing pretend-doctor for reader who's sick (but denying it) so he invokes his technically-a-doctor card and gives his second opinion just to take care of reader n smother them w looooove

essentially just him teasing y/n and being the stupid Cute attentive nerd he is <3

(inspired by S5E3 where he gets stuck at the bau w garcia bc he was being stubborn abt his injury)

i am never ever Normal abt this guy 😞 i look forward to reading more of ur work and losing my mind over reid with u, aine !! mwa

hiii tysm for requesting, youre so fucking sweet!! <33 drop an emoji to let me know who you are and let’s loose our mind over our fav boy together anon!!!! also sorry this took so long, i wrote like 3k but then hated it so i started over, i love this prompt sm so i feel like i had to do it justice.

pspspsp i love s5 spence so fucking much... his hair went from beautiful to ethereal to mad sexy...s5 treated us well. requests are ALWAYS appreciated !!!!!!

soup. spencer reid

spencer reid x fem!reader, 3k

you've been off it for so long, dodging virus after virus and disease after disease and just right when you thought that you are immune to sickness, you caught it. the inevitable fever.

there was no denying it, you've tried. after getting a headache, you popped a tylenol before you went to sleep, nonchalant. the next morning was when reality really came crashing down. a sore throat.

it progressively got worse throughout the day, and when you came crashing into bed after a long day at work, your nose was feeling stuffy and your were coughing, spewing sickness everywhere you went. you woke up in the middle of night sweating like you had just ran a fucking marathon and only able to breathe through one nostril unless you shift your body entirely.

you did not take to these news well. firmly in denial, you still planned to show up to work the next day.

except you didn't show up to work. sickly and delirious, the part when you press snooze then snooze again slip your mind and at one point you must've turn off your alarm entirely. drifting in and out of consciousness and slipping into dream after dream, it gets harder to tell what is real and what is not.

"y/n? y/n!"

now, it is very probable that the voice isn’t actually real, because why the hell would you be hearing spencer reid’s voice outside of work? the chances are slim to none, and despite the heat pounding at your skull you manage to smile. there is something unexplainably comforting about spencer’s voice, soft and deliberate. it would be foolish to say that under the mad spell he’d cast on you (him simply saying two words) he’s managed to melt away your headache, because he didn’t. you still feel like shit.

“y/n?”

you frown, the voice sounding too insistent and real and not matching up with the visuals of your dream. you feel a tapping on your shoulder and when you blink your eyes open you could’ve screamed.

you jump up and then backwards, huddling your blanket with you, scared for your life. because right in front of you is perhaps the most intimidating creature on the earth; spencer reid in a purple sweater vest with his face so close to yours he could breathe in your sickness, hair tucked carefully behind his ear.

“spencer?” you ask incredulously, but instead your voice comes out a rasp. you clear your throat, feeling something warm creep up your cheek. it might be a blush, but you blame it on the chills. you keep blinking, trying to regain your vision and feel instantaneous embarrassment. you look a mess, sick and dehydrated with dry lips and bad hair and you probably reek of morning breath. and spencer’s there, looking like heaven’s finest angel, smiling at you like he’s smiling at a person and not a monster. spencer has the tendency to treat and look at everyone like they’re the love of his life. you sort of hate it.

“hi y/n,” he breathes, crouching down on the floor before you on the bed. “i—“

“what are you doing here?” you’re too impatient to wait, still in shock.

now. you try not to make it obvious that you have a mad crush on spencer, because if the fact were to spill, you’re not eager cleaning up the consequences. it’s an unestablished, unspoken rule that should be common sense that no workplace dating will be allowed and usually it’s a ridiculous rule, because who the hell would want to date their coworker, like actually? work crushes are normal but they exist only in a part of your day, an eye-candy for you to stare at to get through the day, then you go home or go out and forget about them. who actually has serious work crushes, actually? actually? it’s ridiculous.

your defense is completely solid, you’d say. your number one defense is you can’t help the fact that you and spencer were meant to be friends. the moment you joined the team, you and spencer clicked together like two lego pieces, despite your clashing personalities. you find it refreshing to have someone like spencer, someone who’s soft and sweet but cunning and resourceful but thoughtful and kind, and it was equally refreshing for spencer to have someone blunt and straightforward but still patient enough to put up with him.

spencer doesn’t like physical touch but ever since your first week he made you the exception and if you could, you would parade the privilege around like a badge. what can you say, you’re proud to be spencer’s little exception, anyone would be. he makes you feel special, differently than the others do and what’s a girl to do? to have that great of a relationship with a coworker and not be work spouses and not be actually head over heels with the guy? how laughable.

it’s not something you’re proud of, however. you know it’s a lost cause, chasing after spencer. it hurts, sometimes, but you always patted yourself on the back with an ‘it is what it is.’ spencer, as sweet and vulnerable as he is, has layers behind his thinly veiled heart. he talks a lot but he never talks about himself and he never talks about the past so he doesn’t have to revive it, so all the memories are just wounds left out and neglected to burn. spencer’s trouble, definitely trouble, but it’s hard to be aware of the workload that spencer reid is when he’s rambling to you about something as innocent as halloween or knocking his knuckles on your knee during a flight trying to get your attention.

spencer blinks sheepishly, settling criss cross apple sauce on the ground, lanky legs twisting uncomfortably. “you didn’t come into work and you didn’t answer your phone,” he explains. “emily told me to go check on you.”

you nod. he’s here because emily told him to. it makes a lot more sense now. “i’ll head in the office now,” you say, making your way out of bed, wiping at your eyes. “sorry—“

“no you’re not,” spencer says immediately, not even hesitating. he places a hand on your upper chest, pressing you back down on the bed. the butterflies at the pit of your stomach throws a fit. you know he means nothing by the action—has spencer reid ever been the one knowledgeable about romance?—but knowing that doesn’t help the heat that spread up your cheeks that’s definitely not from the sickness. “you’re burning up,” he says. “i’ll get you some water. you should clean up,” he says, uncrossing his legs difficultly and then stumbling out the room, mismatched socks slipping on the hardwood floor.

you take advantage of the time that spencer’s not there and race to the bathroom, ignoring the blackout and the dizziness that threatens to make you faint from getting up too abruptly. you squirt some toothpaste onto your toothbrush and by the time you exit the bathroom, spencer is already there, waiting, except he’s by your desk, hands on a book.

typical.

he perks up when he hears your footsteps pad into the room, turning around, looking like a child who’s been caught with your book in his hands. you smile at him, albeit it’s a pathetic smile. you feel dizzy.

“you like toni morrison?”

“i love toni morrison,” spencer chirps, excitement bouncing all over his face. “especially her masterwork, beloved,” he looks back down at your red copy admiringly then sets it down. "get back in bed," he says, and you can't wrap your hand around how ridiculous the situation is. your coworker, or work crush, is at your house, checking your temperature and shooing you to bed to rest. "i bought you soup so you can eat up, i--"

“you bought me soup?” you ask, incredulous. spencer nods seriously.

“it's proven that eating soup makes people feel better, not just some stereotype. the right amount of sodium can help help relieve sore throat pains and the vitamins and minerals found in soup can play a very large part in recovery...i had a feeling you were going to be sick, it’s the weather, you know? everyone is catching the cold. you need to eat it before it gets cold, the heat helps with nasal digestion and also sinus pressure and it'll be useless if you ate it lukewarm...i’ll be right back…” and with the babbling his voice fades out as he walks back out to the living room, leaving you alone standing on the side of your bed. you look at the forgotten copy of beloved set carefully back onto your desk, smiling to yourself slightly before climbing back into bed, because spencer says so and spencer’s always right but mostly because your legs feel like they’re going to give out.

spencer is speedy, striding several steps at once with his ridiculously long legs that looks unnaturally lanky but once he reaches your room again, soup and spoon in hand you were already nodding off, head lolling and eyes slipping shut. spencer stops at your bed stand, thinking to himself for a second before balancing the plastic bowl of soup on one hand and using the other to gently nudge at your face, waking you up. he grimaces when he feels that your skin burns to the touch, a bright tint to your cheeks that he hates himself for liking because you're sick, he shouldn't be thinking that you're pretty or stuff like that.

spencer waves the thought away, determined to focus on his mission. deliver soup, make sure you're okay, and send his farewells. that's what emily told him to do, and even though derek added a "kiss her goodnight too, loverboy!" he's only going to listen to emily, because emily knows best.

yes. perfect. that's exactly what he's going to do.

"hey," he whispers, caressing his thumb across the lightly purple patch under your eye, frowning to himself. you haven't been getting good enough sleep, and he feels guiltier for waking you up, but then straightens himself up resolutely--no. emily said the soup must be delivered and consumed--just to melt again when your eyes flutter open, confused and traces of sleep still floating around your facial expression. "sorry," he mumbles, feeling oddly embarrassed. "it's just--i mean, you don't have to, jus' want you to eat something before you sleep again."

you sit up slowly, and once you're fully awake again, the smell of the soup hits you like a bucket of ice and you suddenly feel your mouth watering. you feel like a princess, sitting there with your hands crossed in your lap while you wait for spencer to unwrap the plastic utensils and tissues from its clear packaging, carefully opening up the lid of the soup on the night stand and hot steam floats around the room, engulfing both you and spencer in a bubble of tomato soup.

spencer, a planner that he is, didn't let you eat directly from the plastic take-out bowl from the restaurant and had rummaged through your kitchen for a bowl and pours half the soup into the ceramic, no spillage and perfectly clean. then he hands the soup to you, and you eat.

to say that spencer is concerned is to say the least. you're a profiler, and you're trained to pick up on this sort of thing but you only need to be a child with an undeveloped brain to work out that spencer's worried, watching your every move and monitoring that you eat enough, the crease in his brows deepen whenever you set the bowl down so you pick it up again and stuff two more spoonfuls in your mouth, to hopefully make him worry less.

the silence is awkward, the only sounds in the room is you biting down on the spoon occasionally as you drink your soup and spencer watching intently, hands on his chin and unaware of his staring problem. you and spencer rarely has these kind of silences, the silences where you scramble for things to say because the atmosphere would always be too comfortable. you sneak glances at him as you eat. since spencer's completely oblivious to the heaviness of the silence, you feel it's up to you to break it.

"i'll clock in once i'm finish eating this, don't worry," you say, trying your best to sound reassuring as you try to choke back a spoonful of soup too big. you lick your lips, and spencer is biting his, a bad habit.

"no you're not, y/n," he says, exasperated. normally, when spencer uses his 'i'm right so you should listen to me' tone like this, it means he's geared for an argument and you would be happy to challenge him, but now you can't find the energy for it. yet you muster enough up anyway.

"i'm only a bit shaken up 'cause of the weather," you say, trying to sound as convincing as possible, still in the calm before the storm of the bicker. "'m not immobile. and i already used up all my off days visiting my family--"

spencer, however, didn't bother for the peaceful offering. "you're not coming in today, y/n," he says, and he sounds a bit anxious but you know his true intent. his eyes are mirthful with confidence, and he knows he's already won the argument. despite the buzzing in your ears and the fuzziness in your brain, you can't let the bastard win. you can't.

“i can’t miss anymore days spencer, and i won’t,” you say coldly, but you slurping on the soup hungrily like it’s your last day on earth sort of ruined your cool facade. “i’m not too sick, either, it’ll be useless for me to stay home—“

spencer reaches to press his palm against your forehead, his skin cold to the touch. you close your eyes instinctively.

“you’re burning up,” he announces. “means your sick. you’re not coming in today, y/n.”

“says who?” you say defensively, feeling a bit like you’re loosing.

“says me,” spencer says cooly, cheeky smile at his lips. you should hate it more than you do. “who’s a doctor.”

you scoff. “so now you’re an actual doctor? you got a medical phd on you?”

“i have a bachelor in medicine and enough doctorates to make me slightly knowledgeable in every field,” spencer quips and you didn’t even know that he had a bachelor in medicine. how many fucking degrees does this guy even have on his resume?

“whatever,” you grumble, sounding a lot like someone who’s just got defeated. you set the bowl of soup down on the nightstand and spencer hands you a bottled water before you could think about needing water. you pluck it from his offering hands, muttering a “thanks” under your breath.

spencer laughs quietly, watching you drink patiently and putting the cap back on when you hand him back the bottle, setting it next to your soup. you feel ridiculously babied and your cheeks burn with the guilt you feel. you’re talking him off his office hours just to be here and feed you stuff and make sure you’re taking care of yourself.

spencer, the 24/7 profiler, notices. "is something wrong?" he asks innocently, round eyes blinking and oblivious. bless him. "you got redder. is it too hot? i can adjust the a/c."

“fine,” you mumble, still a little embarrassed with your realization. “little cold, actually.”

“it's the chills from your fever,” spencer informs you. “i…” he pauses, frowning again, frustrated from not being able to finish his thought. he abandons it. “do you need anything else?”

“no spence,” you laugh sort of pathetically, throat strained. “you’ve been an angel already. you can go back to the office, if you want.”

spencer thinks back to what emily had told him. soup. make sure she’s ok. leave. he’s done the past two steps. it’s time he completes his mission.

but…

“are you sure?” he prods, a little bit of him hoping that you'd say no. he doesn't know what it is; something bothering him, making him dread leaving.

you didn't get the cue. "mhmm," you shoot him a reassuring smile. as reassuring as you can manage, anyway, grimacing at the insistent throb in your head. spencer gnaws on his bottom lip, indecisive. you don't know what he was deciding between.

whatever battle it was, he wraps it up quick. "okay," he repeats. "i'll get back."

"you do that."

"remember to drink water."

"i will."

"do you need me to bring you more?"

"i'm okay."

"okay."

"okay."

the conversation feels incomplete and spencer isn't interested to complete it, booting out the door, except he lingers for a bit and awkwardly turns around, hand on the frame. you are already looking at him when he looks at you.

you and spencer are never this awkward, never this hesitant and strange. the tension that suffocates your room feels like signature first-date-tension, the kind of nervous excitement and tip-toeing blind lovers and uncertainty.

"are you sure?"

i'd rather you stay. you push the response away. "i am."

"you have medicine right?"

you do have medicine. for a brief moment, you want to lie about it; want to say that you ran out this morning and then he would run to the store for you and return and then spend more time in your insufferable, sickly presence. you brush the thought away within a second. never in a million years do you want to bother spencer, especially not with a thing as selfish as that. maybe it's because of your biased vision but spencer is looking like he's desperate to leave, practically screaming for outlet at the door. it's time you let him go and indulge in the worst sleep you'll ever have.

"yeah," you say, clearing your throat. "i do."

"okay," spencer says. "i'll go."

"thanks," you add awkwardly. "for the soup. and for coming."

"'course" spencer says absentmindedly, lingering at the door frame but not looking at you in particular, not looking at anything. he snaps back and sends you a wave. spencer has a power to him where everything he does looks unplanned, like he's doing it against his own will.

he leaves. if you had change your mind and ask for him to come back, for him to stay, he would've. no hesitation. but you didn't, and he wiggles back in his broken in converses and return back to the bau with no elevator partner.

maybe another day.

a/n: sorry for the ending, this was getting too long so i had to cut it short 😓😓but i think it's kinda fitting! lmk if you guys want a part 2 <3

[vintagerpg]

Azag (2021) is a neat 2-volume rule set and game setting. This is the limited edition from LFOSR. It descends, primarily, from Dungeoneer/Advanced Fighting Fantasy, which makes it a cousin of sorts to Troika. I am tempted to call it the less weird cousin, but that isn’t entirely true — it is just a different sort of weird.

Three attributes. Basic rolling is 2d6, rolling high in opposed contests, rolling low when testing your attributes. Unlike Troika, other dice can be swapped in to simulate greater ease or difficulty — climbing during a blizzard, say, might warrant 2d8 or 2d10 for a Stamina test, depending on the severity of the storm. Combat is more formally structured than Troika, but still pretty fast and loose compared to other games. There are mechanics for social encounters, too, with an ante system that spends Luck, which I really like — it is nice to have a mechanical underpinning for social stuff if you need it. Spellcasting is point-based and the player rolls for success, putting it essentially in line with the skill system. Failure invites calamity. And spellcasters can duel; in this case, casting is an opposed test, and the loser suffers calamity (rather than the cast spell effect — you’re basically dealing with raw arcane energy in a duel). Its a fun, flexible little system!

The world is nice too, cobbled thematically out of early-20th century pulp traditions, particularly Clark Ashton Smith’s stories and Lovecraft’s Dreamlands, both of which feel less explored than say, Conan. It feels a little more restrained and fuzzier at the edges than something like Hyperboria or even DCC. I loooove Logan Stahl’s art, particularly the cover of Volume 2, featuring a snoozing Tsathoggua. In game terms, the world is defined by micro fiction and random tables for encounter seeds and such. These make for an interesting approach that is atmospheric without being overly locked into specific details.

[meydang]

an early morning

(nsfw)

Aventurine x reader

Warnings: morning wood, blowjob, sexual content

English is not my first language.

.

.

.

As you wiggle in bed trying to find a better position to continue sleeping, you turn around to find none other than your boyfriend sleeping peacefully beside you in your shared bed together.

Cute

How the sun hit his face and hair softly, it really is a sight too behold, you think.

After laying in bed for awhile (and admiring Aventurine's sleeping form), you sat up with a yawn to check the time.

5:54

Quite early, you think. Normally you would get up around 6:15 to make breakfast and wake Aventurine up at around 6:45 so you can both enjoy breakfast together before he left for work.

After considering it for a moment, you decided that there is no reason to have an early start today so why not snooze for a bit longer? As you were about to lie back down something caught your attention.

Hm?

Oh

Seems like someone's a little excited this morning, You thought as you glance toward the bulge of the blanket on Aventurine's side of the bed. Now what kind of a girlfriend would you be if you dont help him? Plus wouldn't it be fun to see his reaction?

With that thought you quickly dive under the cover and move to the space between his legs. After moving your boyfriend's pjs and boxer down to reveal his growing erection, you gently kiss the tip of his shaft before licking it and put it in your mouth slowly until it reached the back of your throat, your hands wrap around the base.

!?

"H-hah...!?" You can hear the fluster and surprise in Aventurine's voice as you peaked through the blanket to watch him jolt up from the bed with his face tinted red staring down in confusion.

"Good heavens-" he gasps out as his gaze soften when he realized it was you, "you startled me baby..." Aventurine spoke after letting out a soft chuckle.

You felt butterflies in your stomach.

As you move your head up and down his length, you can feel his orgasm getting closer and how his breath and moans would become messier as you continue your ministration on him.

"Hah... I-I'm close baby." Aventurine could barely say as sweat starts to form on his forehead, his bangs swayed to the side to cover one of his beautiful eyes that are looking right into yours, his hand goes over to tuck the loose hair out of your face. You swear you could get hypnotized by those eyes forever with no complaint.

With one last bob of your head, you gently squeeze the base of his shaft as he came undone all over your mouth and throat.

You try your best to swallow every drop of his cum and make sure he sees you doing it, Aventurine chuckles tiredly upon seeing what you're trying to do and kiss the crown of your head.

"Normally I would get up early and take care of these things myself when they happen, but it seems like you beat me up to it today darling... thank you~" he said with his smug grin plastered on his face and you smile at that. Only then do you remember to check the time again.

6:20

Whoops

"Come on lets get ready now Mr. Handsome, I still have to make breakfast for both of us and you don't wanna be late for work." you stood up from where you were and head to the bathroom which Aventurine followed with a pout on his face.

"But babe, I thought you had your breakfast already," he teases only to be answered by you smacking his arm despite the blush on your face being evident.

"Churin stop teasing!" You said annoyed to which your boyfriend only reaction was to laugh at your cuteness.

"fineee fine I'll stop," he gave you kisses all over your face and the redness on your face only become clearer.

"Love it when you blush~" your face basically become a tomato at this point.

[mshroom1e]

Could you write some soft fluff where Jamil and the readerfall asleep studying together in his dorm and the reader wakes up and attempts to leave but Jamil convinces her to stay?

This sounded so cute! To be honest, it was a little challenging to picture a scene like this with Jamil, but I think I got it. I just hope it isn't too ooc.

type: fanfic

Summary: A short and hopefully sweet fic about snoozing during study time with Jamil Viper.

1.3k words

tags: hand holding, headpats

Warning(s): none

Orange hues painted the sky outside Jamil's windows as the sun vacated for the day. Somehow, you'd ended up together in his dorm room studying for a test that was scheduled for the next week or so. Originally, your feline partner in crime, Grim tagged along to your little meetup, however one look at the content you needed to learn for the test was enough to bore him out of his mind and he was soon passed out on Jamil's bed.

He didn't seem to mind Grim's snoring that played like background music as he calmly continued to explain what you were going to cover. You were a good student, managing to absorb information efficiently and remember the most crucial parts you needed, much to Jamil's relief. Hence, your study session was smooth sailing so far.

Your temporary tutor had his own homework to do, so he left you with some questions that recapped the subject you were revising for the day and told you that you'd go over them together. As well as helping you, it was good practice for him as teaching topics to another person helped solidify the concepts in his mind as well.

"Take another look at question 7," he pointed with a pen, circling your mistake.

"Right," you nodded, immediately looking over the papers.

For a few minutes, the only sound in the room was shuffling of papers and a little sniffle here and there from one of you as the temperatures were dropping with the approach of night. You'd been so focused on completing the makeshift assessment that you'd compiled with Jamil that you didn't notice the lack of movement from the guy.

"Jamil, so for this one, do you-" you stopped yourself before you could finish. The sight of Jamil with his arms folded over his chest, his head carefully tilted to the side, eyes shut, and strands of hair straying from his now loose braids caused you to freeze.

Honestly, you couldn't blame him. Being a full-time student at a school like NRC and simultaneously looking after Kalim and his rambunctious energy 25 hours a day must've been demanding. He was bound to run out of energy at some point. Compared to his usual stoic face and his trying-his-best-not-to-lose-it energy, his sleeping form was serene and picturesque. You didn't want to come across as a creep, but in all honesty, it was difficult not to stare at someone so pretty.

Slow, shallow breaths allowed his chest to rise up and down at a steady pace. With each small movement he made, another strand of hair fell out of place, and he seemed to relax even more. You were tempted by the idea of running your fingers through his dark brown locks to detangle any bits of hair that were hooked around each other. A soft smile graced your features as you stared at him, enamoured. His face adorned with a comfortable expression that contrasted nicely against the usual sharpness in his eyes.

You'd be lying if you said your heart wasn't melting at how peaceful Jamil looked.

There was a sudden gust of wind outside, which diffused its cold air into the room, causing Jamil to shiver in his sleep. Desert nights were freezing, and the only thing keeping Jamil warm was the thin, burgingy hoodie that he always wore under his school blazer. Without thinking, you reached for the nearest blanket and quickly covered Jamil with it.

Just as yawning was contagious, sleep was too. Watching the boy in front of you was such a calming scene. Your eyelids grew heavy, and you were slowly losing the willpower to force them open for any longer. You allowed the sandman to get you as you eventually fell asleep.

-

Soft caresses and strokes on your head woke you from your nap. As you stirred and your eyes slowly opened, the mystery hand that pet you flinched. Your vision finally adjusted to the dim lights of the room. Jamil seemed to still be half asleep, judging by the slow pace of his movements and how his eyes were half-lidded with sleepiness. When you became fully awake and able to notice the hand that was still tangled in your hair, Jamil's face heated up, and he reluctantly pulled away.

"Sorry," you could hear the pout in his voice.

You laughed, your voice a little raspy. "I don't mind." It was true, though. It was nice to feel the warmth from his fingers lingering in your currently messy strands. "And... you're cute when you're sleepy..." You murmured. It seemed to spur him to wakefulness more than anything else ever had. His cheeks warmed further, and he quickly averted his gaze.

"Oh, um... thanks," He stuttered nervously. His hands clenched and unclenched as if he were struggling internally over something.

"Do you want to...um..." His cheeks were even warmer than before. It wasn't like Jamil to get so nervous, and you realised he wouldn't be able to continue speaking without choking on the words. In the end, he settled with clearing his throat to gain the confidence back. He tried to speak again, but nothing came out. Instead, he shook his head, making his dishevelled hair sway.

Silver ribbons of moonlight framed Jamil's head as he sat between you and the window. The light that surrounded his profile gave him an ethereal appearance that enhanced the beauty of his features. You wished you had the camera to capture this moment forever. To preserve it for eternity. However, you knew that it would be strange to do so suddenly and let the thought free from your mind.

Moonlight, huh. The next thing that came to mind was how terribly late it was. You groaned, rubbing at your tired eyes. "I should probably get going."

As you made the motion of standing up to pick up your cat-like companion and retun to your dorm, Jamil's hand latched onto your wrist, causing you to stop in your tracks. The surprise of seeing those strong yet gentle digits wrapped around your wrist made your heart beat faster, but the feeling faded within seconds.

His face was inches away from yours now, and it seemed as if your whole body was on high alert. With his hand firmly holding onto yours and keeping you in place, he didn’t seem to budge, yet his face remained with a slightly conflicted expression.

"Can you.. stay?" Jamil asked quietly like it was a question to himself, rather than to you. There was something about the way he spoke, almost as if he was afraid that he might say something wrong and cause the atmosphere between you two to change. Was that it? Did he really want to spend more time with you? If you didn't know any better, you would've gaped at him like a fish.

However, before you could reply to his question, Jamil began to elaborate, lowering his gaze. "It's late, and walking all the way to your dorm from the school building is dangerous in the dark."

"Yeah, you're right," you nodded. The path between your beaten up dorm and NRC's main building was poorly maintained and you'd tripped over a loose stone tile or a piece of vine that grew out from the ground below it more often than you'd like to admit.

Jamil visibly relaxed at your agreement. "Are you hungry?" He suggested.

"Starving actually," you admitted, and Jamil offered a small smile.

"I can make you something to eat," He stood to his feet, his hold on your wrist sheepishly transfered to your hand before letting go. "Most of the dorm must've eaten dinner already, but I'm sure we can find something."

"That sounds great," you grinned. You sent a look at Grim, who was still passed out asleep after all this time and shook your head with a fond smile.

"I guess I'll have to save him some late night dinner, too."

[teenandbeyond]

Hiiii, Can I request for the Frieza family when the human reader get a little bit tipsy/drunk?

Frieza Fam x DrUnK. Human Reader

About time I get a drunk request.

Want more from me? MASTERlist.

🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊

🧊Let Loose🧊 (DBZ or Dragon Ball Z)

Warning(s): Drunken-ness, short

And this is why you asked your ice jin to not let you get drunk...

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Frieza

"[Name]? Are you alright?"

"Wuuuh? Yeeah, a-OKAY!"

You were not.

First you were quiet

Then you were quietly crying

"What saddens you, my dear?"

"I-We-You're so preeety. Why are you so pretty... it's not-it's not faaaair," you whined with a sob, forehead smacking against the table.

Frieza didn't know whether to be concerned or flustered. Both?

The next stage was depression

"I must escape my despair. Can you drown from whiskey?" you asked yourself blankly.

Then you were happy as could be.

"Frieza, look! A butterflyyyyy!"

"That's a chandelier, darling," he chuckled.

"But-but it looks like a butterfly...Frieza can we get a butterfly? I really, really want one."

Consider it done, you spoiled brat.

And from happiness, you become flirtatious.

Your hand brushes up his arm, "I'd love to see these arms caged around me. Are you single?"

He couldn't help but smirk past his blush, "No, I'm quite taken I'm afraid."

"Are they-hic-Are they cute?"

"Very, the cutest."

"I guess I have no chance then, woe is me!" you sigh dramatically.

And the last stage, you fall asleep, cuddled into your ice jin.

A shame you were too intoxicated to feel the kiss brush your temple.

King Cold

You were much more flirtatious than usual

Bold enough to say the things you wouldn't usually

You tried to cooly lean against the table but fell, you quickly got back up and played it off. Smooth for a drunk.

"Hey handsome, aside from being this good-looking, what else do you do in your free time?"

And he'll happily flirt back in amusement.

"I’d like to take you to the movies, but they don’t let you bring in your own snacks," you grip his thighs as you lean in.

He quite liked you like this, he had to admit.

"Neither of us would be able to attend if that were the case."

Somehow you ended up in his lap, brushing your fingers up and down his horns.

"If you let me borrow a kiss, I promise I’ll give it right back."

"That sounds like a deal."

You traded sloppy kisses until you grew tired and decided to take a snooze.

He couldn't promise to not let you get drunk again. You were quite amusing.

Cooler

Usually, you were more on the serious side, so it was nice to see you let loose.

"Hey, Cooler, let's dance!" you giggled.

No one was looking, so maybe a little dancing would be okay.

"But I don't know how."

"I'll teach you!"

Your teaching skills were a little sloppy drunk, but he got the point.

Swaying with you made him feel like he was in a different world

Your laughter filled the room.

That was all the music he needed.

You catch him staring at some point through your drunken haze

"Whaaa?"

"I want to kiss you."

"Do it then, coward," you tease.

Cooler isn't one to challenge.

Though the unexpected softness of his kiss almost stunned you out of your intoxication.

"I adore you..."

"And I want you to do that again."

[harlowsbby]

Snooze

“I can’t lose when I’m with you.” - Sza

“Here you go cheating again this is why I can’t play simple games like Uno with you.” You pouted and tossed down the card games while Jack laughed.

The two of you were in New York City for the weekend, Jack had a few things to take care of but by the amount of rain all of his meetings were called off for the day which you were secretly happy about because all you wanted to do was stay inside and watch endless movies with him.

“You wanna play another board game Jack? Or do you wanna do something else.” You stated as you went ahead and put back the Uno cards.

“Whatever you wanna do baby it doesn’t matter to me.” He smiled as he leaned back into the bed his chain hanged loosely on his bare chest and his gray sweats hung loosely on his waist.

“Anything?” You smirked and his eyebrow raised in confusion. “What are you planning in that head of yours?”

“What about I give you a little makeover?” You asked him and before he could say anything you were digging through your luggage for your makeup bag.

Once you found it you sat on top of him, his hands kept your steady as you placed the makeup bag beside him before getting out your tweezers and a few pimple patches and placing them on his chest.

“What’s all this?” He asked as you held up the tweezers. “These are tweezers and I’m gonna help you shape up your eyebrows a bit they look a bit wild right now.”

His eyebrows immediately furrowed together. “Uh I don’t think so baby, I’m a man I don’t need my eyebrows all shaped up and shit what do I look like?” You pouted and crossed your arms over your chest.

“You act like I’m going to fill them in I’m just plucking a few hairs at the top that have been bugging me that’s all, I’m not shaping them or anything you’ll still be looking like a damn squirrel.” You joked and he pinched your hips making you hiss.

“What was that for?” You groaned and leaned forward so you’d be able to see the hairs you needed to pluck. “For being a smart ass.” Surprisingly he was very quiet and wasn’t moaning and groaning while you were doing his eyebrows.

“Now that we’re done with that I’m gonna apply these pimple patches to a few of your friends I’ve seen growing on your face.” He gasped.

“That wasn’t very nice babe.” You shrugged your shoulders. “Oh well you’ll be fine.”

Jack watched as you stuck your tongue out due to you concentrating. He found so much joy and comfort in doing little silly things like this with you. He never thought in a million years he’d be laid up with someone as special as you.

You’re the only person he’d allow to pluck his eyebrows even though he didn’t really enjoy it or that it made him feel manly, as long as it brought you enjoyment and entertainment he’d do it a million times more.

“There you go.” You smiled and nodded in approval at the pimple patches.

“How long do these stay on my face?” He asked you. “You keep them on overnight.” You stated and the two of you sat there in a comfortable silence for a few minutes till your stomach rumbled.

“You hungry?” Jack laughed and reached out for the menu that had everything room service had to offer. “Just a little.” You mumbled shyly.

“What do you want to eat.” You took the menu out his hands. “You wanna get chicken strips and fries?” He nodded his head. “Sounds good to me baby. What are we gonna do till it gets here?”

“I can give you a little facial? With a few of my skincare products.” He nodded his head and leaned back into the pillow as you started getting your products ready.

“I’m gonna apply this green tea mask to your skin it’s supposed to clear up pores and give you glass type skin.”

“Sounds good babe.” You gently applied the mask along his cheeks, forehead and chin. “Now I’m gonna place these little under eye ask under your eyes they help with the puffiness.”

“You’re saying I got baggy eyes now? Last time I checked people giving facials didn’t point out their clients insecurities.” He joked and you slapped his chest slightly.

“Oh just hush I’m helping you get a little 24 hour glow up you should be happy I’m not charging you any interest.” He couldn’t help but to burst into a fit of laughter.

“You’re silly baby you know that.”

“Hmm whatever.” The two of you were interrupted by a knock at the door. “Room service.”

“Jack can you get the door.” His eyes widened. “Baby I’m not going up there with all of this on my face ain’t no way.” You pouted. “All I have on is these little shorts and a tank top do you really want him to see me like this.” You stated and Jack sighed.

“Fine, you’re lucky I love you.” You giggled as he stood up and made his way towards the door.

“Room service for Jack Har-.” The guy stopped talking as he did a double take on Jack. “You’re girl?” He questioned with a slight laugh.

“What gave it away.” Jack mumbled. “The heart shaped pimple patches.” He pointed out and Jack groaned but took the food and made his way back to you.

“Heart shape pimple patches really babe?” You shrugged your shoulders and snatched a fry.

“What? It’s all I had but come on let’s eat I’m starving.” You grabbed your food and started digging in.

Jack would never admit it but he liked being pampered from time to time. Even though you tended to be a pain at times he wouldn’t want his life to be any other way. He knew with you by his side he could never lose.

(Hope you guys enjoy 💘 this will be my last little fluff for a bit I need to get back to the angst sorry y’all 💀)

[witch-craft-works]

So I'm in love with @yuri-is-online's Fyuuture Kid AU I've been keeping up with it for a while and since I've been watching Fairy tail recently I've come up with this:

Yes this is a AcexYuu post cause at this point the ship owns my soul. (I took some creative liberties when it came to Yuu's appearance. Yuu is referred to as a female a few times in the post hope that's ok)

(TW: Death, angst, Happy ending? sort of? You be the judge of that)

Ace laid on the ground. Everything felt numb he's wondering how he can still see as his senses dull. He looked up at the boy who stood above him.

It's a bit ironic to be defeated by someone who looks so similar to him but...those eyes...those eyes he couldn't bring himself to look at moments before...how he wanted to just rid himself of any guilt he felt...how he couldn't protect the one person in the world he cherished the most...But as soon as he peered into them a wave of Nostalgia flooded his body.

He's peered into those eyes so many times. That lovely hue of pink he's grown so fond of...

"Ace! you got collared again? what did you do?" a familiar voice questioned "hah?! why do you always assume that I did something wrong? You're so mean" Ace said childishly Yuu shook their head rolling their eyes at Ace's dramatic actions "so are you gonna come in?" Yuu asked stepping aside. Ace gladly walked in "ooo! you have pie?" Ace asked looking at the pie that had been almost fully eaten the culprit sleeping on the couch murmuring about tuna

"Yeah I was in town earlier and saw some it was 25% off" Yuu gave him a thumbs up as Ace helped himself to a slice his eyes lighting up as he spotted the cherries baked into the pie. "Hey! that's a big piece! save some for me!" Yuu exclaimed dashing forward as Ace stuck his tongue out at the Ramshackle prefect "you snooze you loose" he teased "and you call me the mean one" Yuu pouted as they playfully punched Ace in the shoulder

.

.

.

He knew he was dying...He just regrets that he never got to see them...just one more time would have been enough.

"Hey...kid...whats your name?" Ace coughed out. The young boy's eyes widened at his father's...no at the overblot's question he refused to see him as the Ace Crewel described. The Ace that his mother fell in love with.

This thing was only wearing his father's face

"E-Elias" he spoke, his voice coming out more shakier then he wanted it to be.

Ace's lips parted before forming a smile "Elias huh?...I like it..." Ace let out a shaky breath

His eyes dulled as he spoke his last words...

"I...really like it"

Yutu stood there over the now dead overblot. This thing wasn't his father...so why...why did he just want to kneel over and cry. He was only a shell of his former self so why...why did it hurt so much?

Crewel approached the young boy. He looked down at his former student. His mind flashed back to years ago. The many make up tests Ace and Deuce had to come in for, the constantly bickering coming from Ace and Grim and the many times he, Yuu and the other came out victorious after defeating an overblot and saving the dorm leader from losing themself to despair...

Crewel knelt down beside Ace and closed his eyes. It was the least he could do...if only he could have done more for him...

.

.

.

.

.

A bright light caused him to squint his eyes. He slowly opened them as a nice breeze hit his body, sitting up he found himself in a large field. Blinking a few times he looked down at himself, "I'm...normal again" he uttered when suddenly everything came flooding back. As well as the realization of what happened

"Oh..." he uttered as he looked up. Standing up he decided to explore what else was there for him to do? Before he could step forward he heard a familiar voice

"Hey! Ace!" his eyes widened as he turned around. No way...it couldn't be...right?

There she was...those familiar pink eyes he had grown to love "What are you standing around for get over here!" Yuu called once more waving her hand. "Come on! Don't keep me waiting for you!" Yuu said once more before running ahead. "And you call me a slow poke" Yuu teased crossing their arms.

"Yuu...you're here that means..." he uttered "yeah I've been here for some time. Same with Jack" Yuu said when suddenly they were pulled in for a hug. "Ace?" Yuu questioned as he burried his face in their shoulder feeling the fabric of their shirt begin to get moist.

"I'm sorry...I wasn't there...I should have been there" he uttered. "Oh Ace..." Yuu's eyes softened before patting his head. He then moved away from them before wiping his face with his sleeve "it couldn't have been helped..." Yuu said

"They didn't...hurt you right? Deuce said that his office was responsible for what happened but he couldn't get any information out of them" he said "no I was fine...if anything I'm sorry...I forgot you, no matter how hard I tried to...I just couldn't" Yuu said.

Ace frowned "hey it doesn't matter anymore" Yuu said "still...wish I could teach those guys a lesson or two...assholes" Ace grumbled "but if anything...I wish I could have been in the kids life...I..." he trailed off

"I know I saw. You weren't in your right mind none of you were. Just because we're no longer around doesn't mean we can't keep watching over him. What do you think I've been doing this whole time?" Yuu asked.

"Yeah...he's perfect you know...no doubt it's my genes shining through" he said with a shit eating smirk "of course you'd be smug about it" Yuu deadpanned "what! he's basically a mini version of me!" he exclaimed

"Yeah, yeah I hear you" Yuu said with a smile shaking their head. They'd really miss this. Being able to talk with Ace like this.

"I'm glad he's got your eyes thought. Always loved them" he said. Yuu's eyes widened before smiling "aww you're making me blush" Yuu said before stand up.

"You ready to go? Deuce is waiting for us" Yuu said "right can't keep Loosey Deucey waiting" Ace said standing up intertwining his hands with Yuu's.

Squeezing his hand Yuu pulled Ace forward.

Ace smiled. Happy to finally have them with him again.

[thespectral-wolf]

Junctions - Part 3 [END]

Weeks after the space-time rift closed, Rei runs into Warden Ingo. It soon becomes apparent that despite sharing a similar fate, they don't know how to put themselves in the other's shoes.

Part 1 - Part 2

---

When Rei woke up, the sun had yet to come up. Akari was quietly snoozing beside him; at least one of them got a good night’s sleep after what happened. He looked around the dim room: Ingo was nowhere to be found, but his faded black coat and hat still lay where he put them, meaning the man probably hadn’t gone far, at least Rei couldn’t imagine the warden leaving anywhere without them.

Rei rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Although the warden had obviously been avoiding him for the past week, he was quick to help them out and didn’t protest against letting Rei sleep in his home. Was it simply common courtesy, or did Ingo not have any hard feelings after all? No matter how much he thought about it, he just didn’t get the man.

He sighed. He may not have the psychic abilities to see into his head, but he is able to at least hear him out. Clear things up. It would be foolish to lose a possible ally after everything.

Rei silently got up, threw on his coat, quickly pulled on his sandals, then stepped out to the chilly mountain morning.

He thankfully didn’t have to search for long. Just a little away from the hut, Ingo was chopping wood. The pieces were picked up by a familiar Machamp, which hurled them into piles with ease. That meant that Ingo’s pokémon got back safely.

Ingo seemed unaware of Rei’s presence. The boy stopped several paces from the man and watched him work. With only his clan's tunic and bare head, he looked like any other member of his clan. His lean arms tightened with every swing. He looked exactly like the kind of person who was used to the daily struggles of Hisui. Rei wondered… How long has he been living like this? Did Ingo miss modern amenities or were those too nothing but fleeting memories for him? The longer he watched, the more distant he felt from the person in front of him.

At last, Rei greeted him weakly.

“Morning, Warden Ingo.”

Ingo stopped and looked at him from the corner of his eye.

“Morning,” he murmured and returned to his work.

“So um,” Rei fidgeted, “I just wanted to say thanks for, y’know. The hospitality.”

Ingo routinely grabbed a piece of wood, split it and only then spoke.

“It’s only natural,” he shrugged. “The passengers’ comfort comes first.”

“Yeah, right, of course,” Rei muttered. He watched him work for a few moments, and before the silence would start to get awkward, Rei stepped closer to be in Ingo’s field of vision.

“Listen, Warden Ingo… about last time…”

Ingo’s shoulders went taut.

“... I just wanted to say that… it wasn’t right, yelling at you. A lot of things happened, I was in a bad headspace…” if Rei’s hand wasn’t in a cast, he would be probably wringing it, but he had to settle for a gentle massage. “I just wanted to say sorry for exploding at you. That’s all.”

The warden stopped with his work, holding the axe loosely in his hand. He sagged with a sigh.

“Do you regret what you have said to me, or do you only regret the way you did?” Ingo’s voice was calm, but the question came so abruptly, Rei became flustered. Ingo turned around, silver eyes boring into him. The boy only now realized that this was the first time the warden had looked him directly in the eye. And he couldn’t look away.

“I-I…” he squeezed his eyes shut. There was no point in sugarcoating it. “Some of it, I don’t regret. I meant those things,” he admitted.

Ingo looked into the distance and brushed his hand over his thinning, short hair.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay.” He put the axe down and made a gesture towards Rei. “How about we have a little talk?” He grabbed two wider logs and placed them down next to each other as makeshift seats. He sat down and beckoned the boy. Rei, a bit reluctant, took a seat next to Ingo. The sun had already crossed the horizon, drawing long, golden streaks through the treeline. It looked quite picturesque.

“You feel that I could have done more for you,” it was more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah, kind of…” Rei scratched his neck.

“And it’s because my arrival to Hisui was as mysterious as yours?”

Rei nodded.

“I admit, the similarity of our fates did make me think a lot as well. The way you handle pokémon, the way you battle with them, it feels familiar to me. And they jogged a couple of memories loose in my head,” he playfully tapped at his temple, but his expression remained stern.

“I want to make one thing clear,” Ingo continued. “It’s true that I surely come from somewhere far away. It’s true that my habits were and are strange to many people living here. I was even criticized for some,” he patted the pokéballs fastened to his belt. “But you must understand that I am a member of the Pearl Clan,” he tilted his head to look Rei in the eyes. “They took me in. They accepted me, despite all of my faults. They trusted me enough to appoint me as a warden. They gave me a place and a purpose. And for that, I will be forever grateful.”

Rei hung his head. He didn’t dare to say anything.

“Do you feel like you don’t belong with the Galaxy Team?” Ingo inquired.

Rei watched the vapors of his own breaths. He’s been in Hisui for how long now? It’s been more than a year at least. For all he has done since his arrival, for all the people he had helped, when everything went wrong, Jubilife just watched. Despite his efforts to show them how to build bonds with pokémon, they still feared him, because he didn’t fear the world around him. They turned their backs on him, because their leader couldn’t trust him and that made Rei’s blood boil.

And yet…

He took a glance at the hut where his fellow surveyor slept. No, Jubilife didn’t abandon him completely. Those people, like everyone in the region, were just scared. They came here to start a new life only to face with the possibility of losing it all. Most of them didn’t have the same skills and knowledge as he had and even he was terrified through all of it. But for the brief time he was in the village during the calamity, he heard some of their whispers. Not everybody believed that he was the cause of all of it. Some had hoped, some had put their faith in him. The Survey Corps, even if indirectly, had continued to support him. They remained by him.

“I guess it’s still just hard to believe that I do.”

Silence fell between them, both watching the shadows slowly shrink as the sun crept up the sky.

“Last night was… a mess…” Rei decided to change the topic. “Thank you for saving us.”

“You're welcome, although I cannot take any credit for that. Sneasler is the one that sensed the trouble. I just followed her lead.”

“Still, it could have ended… very badly. My incompetence almost got us killed.”

Ingo narrowed his eyes.

“I just… don’t get it.” Rei went on before the man could say anything. “Why I’m in Hisui in the first place. Like, I could list at least a dozen trainers I knew personally who would be better at this than me!” he huffed, pinching a blade of grass absentmindedly.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. No one is equipped to fight an entire herd by themselves, no matter their skill level.”

“I’m just not that good of a battler,” the boy slumped.

Ingo raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve quelled the frenzies of not just our Nobles but the pokémon we revered as our almighty Sinnoh” he pointed out. “I’ve been told that you faced and trained many fearsome pokémon in your surveys, and I don’t have the reason to doubt Captain Zisu’s words. You even have an alpha in your team.”

Rei bit his lip. He did do all those things, didn’t he?

“I mean…” Rei shuffled in his seat, “I had to. It was terrifying, but those pokémon were in pain. The Clans put their trust in me that I could help with the Nobles! At least, help in a way that would save them,” he added quietly. “Also, Goodra isn’t that scary? She’s big, yeah, but more in the sense that she’s a big baby. Alphas are only scary while they're out in the wild. After catching them they can become real sweethearts, like any pokémon would.”

Rei’s musings were interrupted by Warden Ingo’s… chuckling? It was quiet, only the shaking of the man’s shoulders indicating it. Ingo breathed out, glancing at the boy with smiling eyes.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to make fun of you,” he said, “but you speak like the typical young trainer who isn’t aware of their own skills,” his smile was faint, his mouth barely an upcurved line, but genuine nonetheless. “It almost reminds me of…” he trailed off, looking off to the distance, but his smile did not falter.

“Warden?”

Warden Ingo stared for a few seconds before his eyes glinted with recognition. “Huh,” was all he said.

“What is it?” Rei was now curious.

Ingo turned to him, his gaze looking even more lively than before.

“It reminds me of… me. Yes, I think I handled some dangerous pokémon in my youth without realizing how much of a feat that was.”

There was a spark in Ingo’s eyes that Rei had never seen before. In that brief moment, he looked like a completely different man.

“I’m glad my lack of self-esteem unlocked some memories?” Rei laughed.

“What I’m saying is,” Ingo cleared his throat, “when I said that you are an exceptional trainer, I meant it. I remember you mentioned failing a ‘Gym Challenge’? The name sounds familiar. A test to see the ability of a trainer at handling pokémon, was it?”

“Yeah, kind of,” Rei nodded.

“And what’s your rank in the Galaxy Team now?”

“Um… eight-star? But that’s granted for my progress on the Pokédex, not my battle skills.”

“You still prove to have an innate understanding of pokémon. And I see that you built a strong bond with your team. Battling is only part talent – the other is rigorous training and studying. Your problem is that you lack strategy,” Ingo raised a finger. “You understand type advantages, but you focus on offense too much. It may be enough to fight off one or two wild pokémon, but it can also be a detriment if you’re up against multiple opponents, especially strong ones. I believe that’s why you struggled fighting that pack the other day.”

Rei thought about it a little. It wasn’t that he wasn’t familiar with supportive moves; back home, he was more concerned with helping out fellow trainers and traversing the region with his partners than battling itself. He remembered half-heartedly listening to his friends’ long debates on which moves would give the best tactical advantage in battles and what are the best choices for their team compositions. But he always assumed that such strategy was only something professional trainers had to think about, and in a day and age when competitive battling was practically unheard of in most regions, offense is the best defense. And to his credit, that assumption got him this far… but maybe that was only sheer luck.

“Do you think I can become better at it?”

Ingo looked at him with thought.

“Of course. With practice.” he drummed on his knee in thought. “And if you’re concerned about putting a single member of your team out in the crossfire, the clans have adapted to a style of battling where they send out multiple pokémon to fend off attackers. I believe it’s based on the principle of ‘safety in numbers’, as their partners aren’t trained for combat. It’s not a style I prefer, but I have been studying it long enough that I can teach you the basics. Coordination will probably be a bit harder with pokémon as strong as yours, but somehow, I believe commanding two or three partners at the same time won’t become an issue to you.”

“Like in a double battle?” Rei chimed in.

The phrase must have been familiar to the warden, as his eyes shined brighter upon hearing it.

“Indeed,” he smiled. “Just like a double battle.”

The moment ended when Ingo suddenly clapped him on the shoulder, startling the boy.

“Now, we should go back inside to see if your teammate is up.” Ingo got up, and led him inside. Akari was already awake, sitting on the futon, her Pikachu laying in her lap.

“Good Morning!” she greeted them.

Rei and Ingo returned the greeting. The older man put on his coat and hat, and was halfway out the door when Rei stopped him.

“You’re leaving?”

“There is something that I still have to arrange. In the meantime, I have already prepared some soup for breakfast. It should still be warm. Feel free to use my other supplies as well, if you need anything else.”

After he left, the two teens settled down around the hearth and prepared for a short meal.

“So…” Akari spoke up.

“So?” Rei repeated while he handed her a bowl and a spoon.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you were talking with the warden,” Akari smirked.

“Wow, really, I wasn’t aware,” Rei deadpanned as he plopped down beside her. “How’s your back?” he changed the topic.

“It hurts, but not that badly,” she moved her shoulder a little, only to wince in pain. “Okay, it’s still bad. But I’ll manage. To be honest, I’m more scared of what we’ll get from Captain Cyllene for not being careful enough.”

“Not if Captain Pesselle gets us first,” Rei joked, and that lifted the mood a little, both of them laughing.

“But really, does this mean everything is sorted out now between the two of you?” she asked him.

Rei poked at his food. “I think? I mean, I don’t think we’re really on the same page, but I think we’re cool now? So, yeah, we’re good, everything’s sorted out.”

“You are radiating with confidence, you know that?” Akari’s words were laced with sarcasm, and it seemed that even her Pikachu mirrored her opinion. Rei scoffed and playfully punched her good shoulder.

“Shut up!” he said through a smile.

Akari returned the gesture with a grin and turned to her food. “But I am happy that you resolved it. Seriously, after everything you’ve been through, I was worrying that you might…” she trailed off, catching Rei’s attention.

“What?” he asked.

“No, it’s stupid,” she shoved a spoonful of soup in her mouth.

“C’mon, whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Akari put her bowl down, and shrugged.

“It seemed to me that you were avoiding people and I guess, I was worried that you might just leave? Go into the wilderness? I mean, with how good you are with pokémon, and how all of the revered Nobles have accepted you, you might even be able to form your own army of them if you wanted,” she forced on a chuckle but her eyes didn’t laugh. “I told you, it’s stupid. But… after what you’ve been through, it wouldn’t be surprising if you wanted nothing to do with the Galaxy Team anymore. Heavens, we gave you enough reason to.”

Rei looked on his friend who tried to make herself as small as possible. He moved closer and put a hand on her shoulder as he searched for the right words.

“Yeah, we’ve had some difficulty, and I needed some time to myself. But I don’t want to abandon you. I want to help Hisui grow and become a home for its people. After all, I’m a part of Jubilife too, aren’t I? And that wouldn’t have been without the Survey Corps. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

She glanced at him, and Rei gave her his warmest smile. Akari smiled back at him with wet eyes, and before Rei could even react, she tackled him in a surprisingly strong hug. They stayed like that for minutes.

“Now let’s finish up, before the food gets too cold,” Akari broke the hug and grabbed her food again. And I think our teams are hungry too.”

It may have taken an hour and a half until they heard commotion from outside. By that time, they fed their own – and some of Ingo’s – pokémon, and for good measure, Rei checked on Akari’s injuries, applying more salve and fresh bandaging. After that, they were ready to leave.

They stepped out to see Ingo absentmindedly stroking the muzzle of Wyrdeer, while he was talking to…

“Warden Melli!” Rei wasn’t able to hide the surprise in his voice.

The man in question turned to look at the teens, and measured them up with his usual, mildly contemptuous look.

“Ah, you two. Warden Ingo told me you both managed to incapacitate yourselves and become useless, is that right?” he asked them with no hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Great to see you too, Warden Melli,” Akari ignored his insult, and instead walked right to Wyrdeer.

“Anyway,” Ingo turned to Melli, preventing any further antagonizing, ���I appreciate that you could act in such a short notice, Warden Melli. I will remember to repay the favor.”

“Oh, as if I would ever want to ask a favor from a member of the Pearl Clan,” Melli turned his nose up. There was a pause, then he cracked one eye open at Ingo. “But I’ll keep it in mind.”

“You really shouldn’t have gone through all that trouble for us, Warden,” Rei said as he approached Wyrdeer himself, gently stroking the thick mane of the large pokémon.

“Nonsense, as a conductor, it is my priority to make sure my passengers reach their destination in a timely manner.” Ingo straightened his back, as if it was his pride that was on the line.

“But really, thank you again. For everything,” Rei and Akari gave Ingo a little bow, to which the man tipped his hat. Then Rei turned to Melli.

“And thank you for calling Wyrdeer for us, Warden Melli,” Rei said and repeated the gesture at the tall man. Melli Blinked with surprise – Rei had to hold back smiling from the amusement – and it took a moment before he put a hand to his chest, puffing up like a Honchkrow.

“Why, there is no question that I would aid anyone in need. Took you long enough to recognize that,” he said with his usual dramatics.

Wyrdeer got down on his knees to allow the two surveyors to get on his back easier. Akari sat behind Rei, who held onto the pokémon’s neck with one hand, while holding the other one awkwardly to himself. Ingo stared at it for a moment. “How long has that been like this?” he pointed at Rei’s bandaged hand. Rei followed his gaze.

“Uhh… three weeks? Almost four, I guess.”

Ingo frowned at that.

“Maybe you shouldn’t put so much strain on your hand. It will make healing take much longer. Especially if you’ve been spending so much time out in the field.”

“Ugh, not you too!” Rei groaned, getting a laugh out of Akari.

“That’s what I and the Professor have been telling him,” she poked him in the ribs. Rei gave her a dirty look for that.

“If I just lay around the village, I will die of boredom!” he complained.

“Not necessarily,” Ingo stepped closer, adjusting his hat, “Proper battling hardly requires physical movement from the trainer, and you are welcome at the training grounds any time.”

“I’ll hold you onto that then,” said Rei, while gently steering Wyrdeer on the path. Then, an idea came to him. “Hey, maybe we could even team up with others to hold battles two-on-two! Like Multi-battles!”

“Multi-battles! Yes! Absolutely!” Ingo shouted in delight, earning a very weirded-out look from Melli.

The boy smiled, and started down the road. Just briefly, he looked back to wave at Warden Ingo, who returned the gesture.

They were similar, but they weren’t the same. However, this means they just have to search for a common ground. Their routes may diverge, but they can meet at the junctions. And maybe, one day, they will arrive at the same terminus.

[forlovvers]

8:42pm | heatwaves

the sound of the whirring fan awakes you and you realize bf!sunoo is latched to your waist. you take a glance at the digital sitting on your nightstand and your heart jumps out of your chest when you notice it’s nearly 9pm.

you and sunoo were supposed to meet some friends at 5 for dinner, saying it was too hot and persuading you with kisses, sunoo convinces you to take a 30 minute nap. that 30 minute nap apparently turned into a 3 hour nap. you suddenly feel the need to punch your boyfriend.

your bedroom is unreasonably hot and the setting sun is beaming through the big glass windows, a golden glow casting itself upon everything in your room, including your snoozing boyfriend. sunoo looks so sound asleep, lashes fluttering inconsistently every time his chest moves up and down, and him snuggling closer and closer to you. his bangs stuck to his forehead due to the sweat.

normally, you’d find yourself staring and basking in him, if it wasn’t for the fact that it was so so hot. the duvet cover had been kicked off the bed and onto the wooden floors, along with some pillows unfortunately. just you and sunoo remained on the bed.

you attempt to push him away, not needing the extra warmth of sunoo. at this, he squeezes you tighter and brings you closer.

“sunoo! let go!” you say in a hushed tone, gently unraveling yourself from his grasp. sunoo blinks slowly, allowing himself to wake up momentarily. he makes a face at you and shakes his head.

“we’re gonna go back to sleep anyway,” his voice is quiet and a couple octaves deeper than usual from the lack of use.

“but it’s hot!” you complain, but with each attempt you make, sunoo seems to just hold you tighter. “at least let me turn on the ac.”

“can you afford ac?” sunoo jokes and you roll your eyes at him, although he had made several points. “fine,” his grip becomes loose and you get up from your bed, making a mental note to steam your sheets later.

“hey, you better come back!”

“only for you!”

lynne’s notez🗒️: thinking abt how sunoo is a probs big cuddler

[write-the-sky]

Three's Company

Pairing: Sam Winchester & GN! Reader, Dean Winchester & GN! Reader

Summary:

Sure, hunting solo had its perks. Not needing to watchout for someone else, only needing to bed and feed one person, no arguing about plans…etc. But it also had its cons. No one to bounce ideas off of, doing all the research yourself, no one to watchout for you. 

So, after a particularly… difficult hunt, you call up the brothers and ask to tag along.

Authors Note: This was cross posted on AO3

TW: This contains the mention of past rape and abuse. it doesn't go into detail but please read responsibly

A few years ago, you had met the Winchester brothers while resting at Ellen’s bar. They were in town following a rough hunt and had struck up a conversation with you. You had talked with them almost all night, trading stories, tips and tricks, and knowledge. It was one of the nicest nights you had had in a very long time. 

Sure, hunting solo had its perks. Not needing to watchout for someone else, only needing to bed and feed one person, no arguing about plans…etc. But it also had its cons. No one to bounce ideas off of, doing all the research yourself, no one to watchout for you. 

So, after a particularly… difficult hunt, you call up the brothers and ask to tag along.

And that brings you to today, leaning against Baby’s trunk with Sam, waiting on Dean as he pays for your lodgings for the foreseeable future. The three of you were tracking down a vampire nest that had been killing people in groups of three before moving towns. Dean had managed to narrow down the town they would be hitting up next,  so long as they kept with their current pattern, and you were now in the middle of a run down, small town, in the middle of practically nowhere. 

“Alright!” Dean said, slapping a room key into Sam's hand. “ They had two rooms open, and since yours truly cracked the code,” He pointed to himself with his thumbs, “I get the solo room. But don't worry, I got y’all separate beds. You’re welcome!” 

You rolled your eyes at the oldest brother as you grabbed your bag and followed Sam, who had muttered a few choice words at Dean while grabbing his own bag, to your room. 

Squeezing your way past Sam, you place your bags on the bed farthest from the door. “Dibs! Snooze ya loose Sammy!” you declare, turning to your roommate. 

Sam laughed, quick and short, “You know.. You’re starting to sound like Dean,” He said, feigning annoyance. You shrugged your shoulders in response and poked your tongue out at him. Turning to your bag, you grabbed out your laptop. 

“Im gonna do some more digging, See if I can find out where or who they might hit next.” Sam nodded as you made yourself comfortable on your bed. 

And that’s where you stayed for several hours… until a bar a couple miles east of the motel started popping up on a local facebook page you had been monitoring. 

“Sam.. I think I got something,” you said. Turning the laptop around to show him the screen, “Apparently, a group of guys have been staking out the building.. Could be nothing, but it matches the others.” 

Sam furrowed his brows, reading through the various posts about the group, before nodding slightly to himself and looking up over the laptop screen at you, “Let’s get Dean.”

“This the place?”  Dean asked, pulling into a parking spot in the back of the lot. 

You nodded, humming in response as you sat forward in the back seat. Pointing at an old pickup truck across the parking lot. “Over there. That’s the group people were posting about.” 

There were several men standing near the truck.Some were leaning on it while others walked around a little, checking the area as they went. One man sat in the driver's seat, drumming on the wheel as if he was nervous. You squint your eyes, trying to get a better view of some of their faces. When one of the men walks close enough to a street light you can see the details of his face. You gasp softly as your blood runs cold. His greasy hair is slicked back and he hasn’t shaved in a few days. His clothes are well loved and overworn. And his sharp eyes are staring right at the impala… like he can see you, sitting there, watching him. You swallow the lump that's formed in your throat.

“This is them.” You manage. “This is the nest. I’m sure of it.” You're not sure if your voice is shaking or not. You hope it isn’t. 

“Alright, let’s smoke these bastards.” Dean says, his hand is already on the door handle and he’s about to step out when you yell out, “No!”

Dean and Sam whip their heads around to look at you. Sam’s eyes are questioning and concerned, while Deans are startled. 

You clear your throat, “There are too many people around.. To many potential witnesses or accidental victims.. We should wait..” 

Dean is about to argue, his mouth is open and you can practically see the words about to come out, but Sam speaks first. 

“Y/N is right.. We should wait till they’re hiding out.” Sam says, his eyes keep shifting between you and his brother. 

“If we wait, people will die. More people, Sammy. We need to act now, kill these sons of bitches before they hurt someone else.” Dean argued.

“Listen Dean… chances are they won’t get anyone tonight. People are freaked out by them hanging around.. No one is gonna be leaving on their own.. Not now.” Sam responded. He and Dean had a silent conversation, staring at each other for a few agonizing minutes before Sam must have won. Dean grumbled, cursing under his breath before driving out of the lot. You took one last look at the man as you drove away and you could swear that he was smiling at you. 

As you arrived back at the motel, Dean kicked you and Sam out of the impala mentioning something about needing a drink and driving off. You and Sam got back into your shared room and started getting ready for bed. 

“What happened back there Y/N?” Sam asked, just as you were climbing into your bed. 

“What do you mean? There were too many variables, Sam… you know that.” You said. 

“No, Y/N, you said they were the vamps we’ve been tracking. You were sure of it… How?”

You froze, “I.. I um… recognized one.” You stuttered. “From a hunt I did, while back.. Fucker must’ve gotten away.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth. 

You settled into bed, facing away from Sam as you pulled the covers up under your chin. “Night,”

“Yeah… night,” Sam said quietly. 

You woke up frantic. Bolting up in bed with the pistol you keep under your pillow pointed directly at Sam. 

“Whoa! Y/N! It’s me. It’s Sam!” His hands were up defensively and he spoke calmly. “You’re okay.. You’re in the motel…” His eyes were soft, “Can I have the gun?” 

Sam was already slowly removing the gun from your hands by the time you nodded. He got up from where he was kneeling next to your bed and placed the gun on the small dining table. When he returned, You had your knees pulled up to your chest and you were staring straight ahead, your eyes were blank and unfocused. Sam sat on the edge of your bed and slowly placed one of his warm hands over top of yours where they were clasped in front of your legs.

“Y/N?” He asked in a whisper. “Hey, you okay?” Sam's eyebrows were furrowed in concern. You didn’t answer right away. And despite Sam practically sitting directly in front of you, your eyes seemed to be looking right through him. Like you didn’t realize he was there. 

You blinked a few times, trying to clear away the tears that had welled in them, before you took a shaky breath and tried to clear your throat but choked on a sob instead. You dissolved into sobs, trying to curl into yourself but Sam pulled you into him. He rubbed your back as you clung on to him like a lifeline. Your tears soaked his neck and the shoulder of his sleep shirt as Sam whispered little encouragements and promises of safety. 

“You’re okay… You’re safe.”

You cried for what felt like hours before finally calming to just the occasional sniffle. You pulled back, rubbing your eyes with the palm of your hand. “Sorry…” 

“Don’t be…” Sam said softly, “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

You sighed heavily, “Not really.” Sam nodded understandingly. “But… I don’t think I can go on like this anymore…” You thought for a moment, “Before.. Before I tell you, I need you to promise me something..”

“Yeah… okay,” Sam said, he was holding your hand again. 

“Don’t tell anyone… not Dean, Ellen, Bobby… Nobody.” You inhaled sharply, clenching and unclenching your jaw a few times. “If I want them to know I’ll tell them..” You said the last part softer, almost in a whisper. 

“I won’t.” Sam replied seriously. “I promise.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. Taking in a deep breath, you opened up to Sam.

“It was that vamp… at the bar tonight…” You started.

“The last hunt I did solo… I was hunting a nest of vamps in Montana, normal run-of-the-mill type shit. After a couple of days, I managed to find their hideout… so I waited until day and snuck in while they were sleeping.” You paused, biting your lip as the memories came back. “I didn’t know if they had any captives in there or not.. And I didn’t even know for certain how many were in there. I should have waited… done more digging, but I didn’t. I know it was stupid… but I thought that if I waited.. If I didn’t act then and there, that more people would die… or that they would catch wind of me and skip town.” 

Sam’s hand tightened around yours reassuringly. 

“While I looked for anyone they might have had captive, I didn’t notice that a few of them woke up… They overpowered me..” Your voice cracked as fresh tears began to streak your face. 

“What happened..?” Sam whispered, His own eyes appeared wet.

“What didn’t…” You supplied. “They kept me. For months… they fed off of me, draining me until I was sure that I would die, before stopping. They…they gave me just barely enough food and water to live but not enough to get any strength back…” You shuddered at the memory. “I was kept chained to a wall… sometimes.. If they were bored… they’d unchain me.. Let me run, see how far I could get before they caught me… I never made it far… I was too weak.” 

Sam sucked in a breath between his teeth, clenching his jaw.

“The worst part of it… There was an unmated vamp… sometimes..he would… he..” You trailed off, the words getting stuck in your throat. 

“You don’t have to continue.. Y/N,” Sam's eyes were a storm of emotion: anger, sadness, and sympathy all apparent when you looked into them. 

You shook your head.. “He raped me… Sam… this, all of this went on for months. I finally managed to escape, to this day I don’t know how… but I did. I found my way to Ellens. She didn’t say or ask anything… but I think she picked up on something… the next thing I knew she had me wrapped up in a warm blanket telling me that the nest had been taken care of…”

“I'm so sorry, Y/N…” Sam’s mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to figure out what to say next.

“It’s not your fault… it isn’t anybody's fault but my own. I shouldn’t have gone in alone and unprepared..” You cut him off. 

He gently placed his hands on either side of your face, using his thumbs to wipe away the tears still falling from your eyes. “Don’t say that… You couldn’t have known what would happen.. The important thing is that you lived.” 

“The vamp I recognized… he was the one that used me.. I don’t know how, but that bastard managed to escape and find a new nest..” 

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t get out this time. That fucker isn’t going to live past this hunt.” Sam promised with overwhelming sincerity, dropping his hands into his lap.

You smiled weakly at him, yawning as all of the energy left your body. Sam noticed and started to stand but you stopped him by grabbing his arm. “Wait!”

Sam paused and looked back at you, an eyebrow raised in question.

“Could you… hold me…. I don’t.. I don’t think I can sleep on my own right now…”

“Yeah… yeah, just give me a sec.” Sam walked over to his side table and turned out the light. You hadn’t even registered that it was on until then… Sam had probably turned it on when he was woken up by you. He climbed into the bed behind you and placed an arm over your torso.

“Is this okay?” He asked, you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. It made you shiver slightly.

“Yes..” You settled into the safety and warmth that was Sam Winchester. You both lay in comfortable silence before Sam spoke.

“Can I ask you a question..” You hummed in response, “Why did you continue hunting?”

You thought for a moment, “I couldn’t tell you for sure… The longer I was at Ellen’s.. The more restless I got. I didn’t think I would’ve been able to sit back, knowing that what happened to me was probably happening to other people…” Another beat of quiet, “But I knew that I wasn’t gonna be able to go out on my own…”

“So you call Dean and I.” Sam finished.

“So I called you and Dean.” You agreed. 

For the next couple of days, nothing happened. Sam and Dean went back to the bar and scoped out the place while you stayed back at the motel monitoring the police radio for the surrounding areas. 

It wasn’t until the three of you were ready to call it quits that a person was taken. A young female, probably mid 20’s, was on a night jog- “Who the hell jogs at night?!” Dean commented- and when she still hadn’t returned home after a few hours, her roommate had called the police. 

It was still too soon after the call for any reports to be in the system, meaning you had to do some slight digging to try and locate where she had been before she was taken. 

“From what I can tell… this girl, Becca, goes for a jog at the same park every night. She takes the same route each night as well.” You said. 

“Great..” Sam sighed, “So, what? We spend all night searching a park for some random shed or run down building?”

“Actually… I did a search of the park's name, turns out there's an old mansion towards the back of one of the shorter trails… They used to hold events in the building until roughly ten years ago when a kitchen fire caused damage to the foundation and support beams.”

“Alright!” Dean walked past you, clapping you on the shoulder as he did. “Let’s go smoke these bastards.”

Much to Dean’s dismay, the three of you left Baby in the parking lot and made the trip to the run down mansion on foot. Armed with a machete, you and the brothers snuck into the nest’s hideout. 

Being mindful of the unstable flooring, you silently worked to locate Becca. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you crept around, keeping the machete poised in front of your body protectively. It didn’t take long before you saw Becca and the sight made your blood run cold. Her arms were tied above her head, keeping her elevated and on the tips of her toes. A fresh bite wound was dripping blood down her neck. A second mark on her hip had mostly dried blood decorating the bruise around it. Her head hung limply, but she was breathing… barely. 

You quickly walk to her, cutting the rope and catching her before she could fall to the cold floor. When she started to stir and try to fight you, you whispered, “Shh… It’s okay… I’m here to get you out, you’re gonna be okay.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, precious..” You froze, that voice causing your heart to falter and your breath to catch. You set Becca down and turned, gripping your machete tightly, as you came face to face with the vampire that had been haunting you for nearly a year. 

It happened in a blur. One second, you're staring right into the eyes of the creature that took advantage of you. The next, you’re being pulled off of his headless, nearly unrecognizable, corpse and getting carried outside. You twisted and fought against the arms that were holding you, screaming in pain and frustration as you failed to get loose. “Y/N! Stop!” Sam yelled. “He’s dead!”

You continued thrashing against Sam, “Let me go! I’m not done with him!” 

“No. Y/N, he can’t do anything anymore!” Sam reasoned. “You need to stop! You’re just hurting yourself!”

“He needs to feel pain! He deserves to feel how I did!” Your voice cracked as you stopped fighting against Sam. You hid your face in your bloodied hands and cried. 

Sam gently lowered the both of you to the ground. He cradled you in his arms as you sobbed. He didn’t say anything. He just held you and, at one point, shooed Dean away with a quiet “Not now”. 

At some point you must have fallen asleep. Because now, you’re waking up in the back seat of the Impala with one of Sam's flannels draped over your shoulders like a blanket. You realize that your head is resting on something and turn to look above you. That ‘something’ was Sam, you had been using his leg as a pillow. 

Having felt you shift Sam glanced away from the book he was reading and down at you, smiling when he realized you were awake. “Hey,” He whispered. “How you feelin’?” 

“Like I got hit by a train… or three.” you groaned. Sam chuckled weakly, setting a hand on your shoulder and rubbing his thumb soothingly against it. 

“Feel free to keep sleeping… we still got a ways to go.” You nodded, humming sleepily as you snuggle into his flannel. 

After a moment, you whisper. “Sam?” He hums in response, looking away from his book again. “He’s really dead?” 

Sam smiled softly, moving his hand from your shoulder to your hair and gently combing through it, “He’s very dead… You don’t have to worry anymore.”

[argisthebulwark]

How do we feel about the “one bed trope” with tld/Brynjolf….because like it lives rent free in my head- like especially if it’s happening in a part of Skyrim that gets super cold so they like *have* to cuddle…

oh this is so good. i'm a complete sucker for the one bed trope honestly and we don't talk about it enough. sfw, gn!ldb/brynjolf. edit: ao3 link here!

"Sorry." The woman behind the counter sighed and flipped through her ledger again. "We only have one room left."

"That's alright." He tossed a few septims onto the desk and watched her fingers trace along the messy bookkeeping. They'd shared a room before, changing was the only awkward part. "We're only here for one night. We'll manage."

The woman's anxiety seemed to ease when she pointed them down the hall, last door on the left. Brynjolf heard his recruit chattering away at his side and hummed along in agreement. He unlocked the door, comforted by the low noise of the tavern upstairs.

"Where's the second bed?"

There had to be some misunderstanding. The room was cozy enough, a desk tucked into one corner and a small wardrobe near the back. The only problem was the large, lone bed sitting in the center of the room where two smaller ones should've been.

As soon as they'd flopped onto the bed Brynjolf hurried back to the front desk. His heart was in his throat and he was gripping the counter to keep his voice low, not wanting to give anything away.

"I told you we only had the one left." The woman sighed, clearly trying to finish three separate tasks at once.

"There isn't another bed in the whole place? We aren't exactly," he paused, trying to talk his way out of the situation, "together."

"All booked up I'm afraid. Snow always brings 'em in."

When he returned he was just in time to see them curl up under the covers. Their hair was loose and curled over the pillow, pack thrown lazily onto the desk. Their eyes fluttered a bit when they looked up at him, a sleepy smile on their face that drove him mad.

"Nothing else?"

"Looks like we're sharin'." Brynjolf grunted when he kicked off his icy boots. Hanging his armor on the coatrack he felt oddly naked in front of them - he couldn't remember the last time someone had seen him in just a shirt and loose trousers. Their eyes traced shamelessly over his body and for the briefest moment Brynjolf wanted to ask if they liked what they saw.

"I'll stay on my side." They mumbled, curling deeper into the stack of pillows. "I can go ask for more blankets if you don't wanna share."

"I doubt you're goin' anywhere." They already looked half asleep when Brynjolf clambered onto his side of the bed. His heart was racing when he felt them shift a tiny bit closer to him. There was no armor or separate beds to keep his mind from wandering.

They stayed quiet for a long while. He watched stars twinkle through the blizzard out the tiny window and prayed it would be clear by morning. Sleep evaded him for hours, every tiny movement from his bedmate stealing all his attention. He had nothing to distract him from the sheer temptation snoozing beside him.

It didn't take too long for them to start shivering. Despite the mountain of blankets he knew it was chilly - the stone walls didn't seem to protect them from the overwhelming cold of Windhelm. Brynjolf told himself to tune it out. He needed sleep more than he needed to worry about them.

"You freezin'?" He finally mumbled, reaching a hand out. "I told you not to spend so much time runnin' around out there. You don't even have a coat."

"You're so warm." They practically moaned the words and Brynjolf couldn't form a coherent thought. He wanted to hear it again. They rolled closer, cheek pressed to his arm and greedy hands on his chest. "Do you mind if I -"

"C'mere."

He pulled them across the bed until every inch of them was pressed tight to him. He felt their chill seeping into his bones but couldn't be bothered. Cold toes pressed to his legs and their fingers slowly spread across his back, face flat against his chest. The little sigh they let out was enough to drive him mad. Their thin shirt left little to the imagination and gods, he needed something to stop his train of thought.

He hated how good it felt. Sleeping alone again would be hell but Brynjolf relished every moment of their body snug against his, every relieved sigh into his shirt. Their hair tickled at his nose when they shifted impossibly closer, one leg thrown over his hip.

"Bryn." They hummed his name in thanks and he knew. He'd belonged to them for far longer than he cared to admit but this was the last nail in his coffin. Slowly he raised a hand, tucking some of the messy hair away from their face as they looked up at him. He could feel them studying him in the dark. The moonlight provided little light but he felt every movement. They stretched, frozen nose bumping against his before their lips found his.

It lasted only a moment but it awakened a hunger he'd never felt before. He wanted to kiss them, to touch them, to know every inch of them. When they pulled away his fingers caught in their hair. He didn't want it to end.

"Sorry." They murmured and Brynjolf swore he heard his heart trying to beat out of his chest. He allowed himself to rest a hand on their waist and draw them closer. "I've wanted to do that for a while."

"Do it again." He swallowed past the nervousness in his throat, every bit of him tingling where it touched them. He knew it was easy to get addicted but he was desperate.

They kissed him again. They kissed him over and over until the blankets were kicked aside, warm hands clutching each other close. Their head was on his chest and legs tangled together when he finally felt sleep creeping up on him.

"It'll save money." They mumbled, half asleep. "If we keep sharing a bed. Overhead costs and all that."

"Yeah." He kissed the top of their head, thrilled by the content noises they made in response. "Gotta save money somehow."

[maxcuntstappen]

Bestie lestappen with the reverse trope “too many beds” ????? But they still share maybe?? Could be ridiculously funny

From this. Honestly any of these would be hilarious

It's the night of the annual lock-in.

Max never understood the point of them, really.

But it keeps him away from his house and gives him more time with his friends so he's not going to bitch about it.

After the chaos of last year's 'oh let's put a bunch of hormonal, horny, overly sensitive kids in one gym for one whole night and see how it goes', the management seems to have come to their senses and split the crowd up.

Max likes it better like this, 6 to 10 people in one classroom, people you can choose to have with you with all the bonding activities left for the gym.

It comforts him, knowing that he has a place to retreat if it all gets too much.

And it does get too much. But not in the way he expects.

"MAX!!!!!" Oscar yells, snapping him out of his snooze, just in time for Max to dodge the ball heading straight to his face.

"What the fuck," Max growls, or at least tries to, it comes out as a whine instead.

He would feel embarrassed if he wasn't busy feeling so fucking tired instead.

It's not his fault that GP and Seb made the entire team run double their usual drills because one stupid fucking freshman was late to the practice.

"What the fuck is you," Lando yells, making no sense but the frustration in his voice gets the message across.

"Okay," Alex's voice declares, "We need to regroup."

The other team groans and complains but they're retreating to their side as they do.

Fucking dickheads.

Alex pulls Max to the side, leaving their team discussing and strategising behind.

"Max, you know I love you," Alex starts, and Max preens a bit, always happy with how openly affectionate his friends are with him, "But you're a damn liability, man."

Max frowns, "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," George pops up out of nowhere, cause of fucking course, "We are being absolutely murdered out there and you're not helping."

"Okay, Russell, I've seen you throw, let's not pretend you're Tom fucking Brady, yeah?" Max snaps.

George opens his mouth to snark back but Alex pushes him away, "Go. Now."

George grumbles but walks away.

Simp.

"Max, buddy," Alex says, voice gentle, "It's okay to be tired. It's late. You can rest."

But Max doesn't want to rest. He wants to be with his friends and watch them be stupid. He wants to watch Lando slip on the polished floor and he wants to point at him and laugh in his face. He wants to watch George get worryingly protective of Alex when they play capture the flag. He wants to watch Charles argue and argue and argue over one single point in one of these redundant stupid games. He wants to watch him win the argument. Because he will win the argument. Max knows this all too well.

"But..." Max begins to protest, but Alex runs his hand through Max's hair and Max fucking melts into it before he remembers himself and snaps up straight.

"Yeah," Alex says, all sympathetic and soft. That cunt.

Max sighs.

Hard-headed as he is, even he knows when he needs to call it quits.

Max nods, making Alex softly smile.

"I'll see you in a bit, yeah?" Alex squeezes his shoulder, and turns to return to their miserably losing dodge ball team.

Max is practically dragging his feet as he exits the gym. He feels a tinge of sadness at the idea of missing out but it's overshadowed by the absolute fucking joy he's deriving from imagining how fucking good it'll feel to finally, finally be in a horizontal position.

He's just turned into the hallway when a voice calls out, "OI! MAX!"

Max looks back to see a grinning a bit-too-widely Daniel, holding a wide eyed, clearly trying-very-hard-not-to-blink Charles.

"Take him with you too, yeah?" Daniel says, slightly pushing Charles in Max's direction.

He leaves before Max can even get a word in.

Max sighs, running his eyes over Charles' rumpled appearance ; loose red sweatpants and a cream hoodie big enough to fit two, bloodshot eyes with mad scientist hair to match.

Max isn't the only one among his friends who had to run double the drills today.

"Tired?" Max asks, already knowing the answer.

Charles simply nods, his hoodie-covered hand coming up to rub at his eyes.

The sight makes Max feel all soft and mushy.

It's a feeling he's becoming increasingly familiar with, thanks to Charles' existence.

"Come on then," Max says, gesturing with a nod to the hallway towards their chosen class.

They walk next to each other wordlessly, both too tired to thinking of anything to talk about.

Max, surprisingly, is fine with it.

He thought it might be weird, considering just how much Charles and him talk when they're together.

But no.

This is fine too.

It's perfectly fine.

And then they reach their classroom and both of them stop short.

"Uh," Charles says, and Max agrees with that sentiment.

Because there are ten mattresses placed around the class, spread out from one wall to another.

Max so doesn't have the energy to gay panic about sleeping arrangements right now.

He never thought having too many options would ever be a problem when it came to sharing a bed with Charles.

Max glances over, sees Charles' eyes dart all over the floor, clearly trying to figure out his next move.

Max sighs, thinking, 'This is stupid'.

Cause it is.

Charles and Max have known each other since they were kids. Maybe they didn't like each other for half of that time.

But things are different now.

Even if Charles doesn't feel the same bubbly warm overwhelming feelings that Max feels for him, Max knows that Charles still likes him, still likes his company and their conversations and their time spent together.

That's more than Max's tired brain to make a decision.

"C'mon," he mumbles, taking Charles' hand in his, walking them over to the mattress closest to them.

He drops down, making Charles yelp and follow, somehow managing to not stab Max with his elbow.

It's not a big enough mattress to share.

But it's not a small enough mattress to not share.

Charles decides to stay, pressed up to Max's side.

Max is out before he can really appreciate the warmth and the comfort and the joy of the moment.

But it's okay, there will be other times.