#but My Mother. would make it a huge deal bc it's late. not bc it's gonna wake anyone up (probably won't anyway) but bc

[therevengeoffrankenstein]

something hellish about living with my mother is that if i were to take the nice, long soak in the tub my pussy severely needs and deserves right now at this here 5 AM, she would throw a fit.

[bippot]

Hi hun 💜

I have a request for a smut fic with Bob Floyd

(This isn’t compliant with top gun maverick btw x)

ok so, Bob and the reader are in college together and the reader is a huge bookworm

Bob just like admires her from afar until he finally plucks up the courage to talk to her about a book she’s reading after class

She flirts with him and his lil brain can’t compute so he just stands there like 😳

anyway long story short they go back to her place and she seduces him

thought I’d leave it up to you bc you’re so talented 🩵🩵

Ducky's

Story Summary -> After leaving the Navy, Bob enrols in college to experience what he missed. At a café, he meets Y/N, a fellow bookworm who quickly becomes more than just a friend in more ways than one.

Tags -> Fluff and Smut, College, Teacher-Student Relationship, Strangers to Lovers, cafe setting, First Kiss, First Meetings, Study Date

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The small bell above the door chimed as Bob Floyd walked into Ducky’s Café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. He scanned the cosy, dimly lit space, noting the clusters of students, artists, and locals deep in conversation or study. It was a sight that felt new and foreign.

Just days ago, he’d been stepping off his last Navy deployment, wrapping up a career that had spanned more than a decade. Now, here he was: a thirty-four-year-old freshman, feeling both out of place and oddly hopeful.

It was weird. He'd spent years in the Navy, living through it's strict rules and structure until they became second nature. He'd always wanted to fly planes and be an aviator adjacent, but he failed to realise how much it frayed his nerves. His mind had to be constantly alert, constantly be whirring, constantly be worrying, and it was a lot of mental strain.

As soon as his contract was up, he declined to renew it. He wanted a slower life, one where he could focus solely on bettering himself without having to constantly deal with the pressures that came with a government job. And now, here he was at the cafe directly opposite the university he was enrolled at, living it up.

And living it up meant that he was audited every class he possibly could. He had the drive to be a Renaissance man, full of knowledge and talent and passion for the world that he’d never had before. Officially he was a creative writing major, but the psychology that he was carrying under his arm pointed to a different subject.

Sitting at an empty table, Bob spread out his materials, trying to arrange the chaos of notebooks, pencils, and highlighters so he didn't seem so unorganised in front of all of the other students around him. He wanted to make a good impression, after all. These eighteen-year-olds were his peers in academia, and if he made any mistakes, they would surely laugh at him behind his back for being so old and inept.

He'd been working for around half an hour when the lady behind the counter very loudly greeted, "Ah, she finally makes an appearance," and his head lifted to see the most beautiful woman he'd ever had the pleasure of looking at walk into the cafe.

The beautiful woman replied, "Mama, my class ran late, okay?" She flashed a smile as her mother handed her a large coffee and looked around the packed cafe. "Didn't save me a seat? You must not love me any more."

"You're spoilt, and you know it," her mother laughed. "I'm sure that handsome man over there will let you sit with him."

As if by magic, Y/N's mother pointed directly at Bob's table, and he smiled shyly and pretended that he hadn't heard their whole conversation. He hoped to God he hadn't blushed too obviously. Yes, he wanted her to sit somewhere near him, but, no, he would have no idea what to say to start a conversation. To his benefit, she started the conversation for him with a simple, "Hi, do you mind if I sit here? You look kind of busy, so it's okay if not."

"Uh...sure. Go ahead," Bob said awkwardly. "I can tidy up if you need some space; just say the word."

Quickly, she shook her head with a smirk and sat down next to him, crossing one leg over another as she settled herself into her chair and brought out a book from her bag. Glancing over the top of his glasses, he read the cover of her book, Room, and realised that he had a way in. He'd kept a reading list for the past few years, and for some reason, despite the fact that Room had always been on the list, he'd never actually gotten around to reading it.

"I've been meaning to read Room; how are you finding it so far? Would you recommend?"

She tilted her head as she came up with a response, and Bob couldn't help the way he let his head rest on his hand as he admired the profile of her face. She had an air of thoughtfulness about her, and her hair was pulled back loosely into a ponytail, framing her face and neck and giving her a very studious look. But then she opened her mouth to respond, and Bob found that he loved the way those lips curved as she spoke about what she was passionate about: books.

The detail she went into was insane; Bob was impressed and intrigued. It was fascinating to watch. There was passion, yes, but also humour and immense empathy. Her eyes were expressive as she told him all about the case the story was based on. It was a harrowing tale - they both knew that - and a little light-hearted comment every now and then helped to ease the discomfort that came along with discussing such a topic.

"... so, yeah, it's an intense read," she finished, her final words rushing into one. She'd gone on a full rant and, while Bob had added the occasional sentence or two, had taken the reins of the conversation without realising it.

Suddenly self-conscious, she mumbled, "Sorry for rambling like that; I didn't even ask your name." She gave him a sheepish smile. "And I'm keeping you from your work."

"No, no, please, keep talking," Bob said quickly, hoping that she wouldn't notice how he was staring at her lips. He held out a hand for a handshake, which she returned, unable to take his eyes from hers as he did so. "I'm Bob, Bob Floyd."

"I'm Y/N. If you hear my mother call me Ducky, please pretend you didn't hear it."

"You're the eponymous Ducky?!" he teased, his blue eyes flashing playfully. "You didn't tell me I was in the presence of cafe royalty!"

She lightly smacked him on the bicep. "Shut up," she chided softly. "It's a childhood nickname; my mom loves to embarrass me with it."

They laughed together, their voices soft in the chatter around them, and a gentle warmth washed over them as they gazed at one another. It was so comfortable and easy to talk to Y/N; a sense of familiarity overcame him, and he began to feel that this was exactly where he belonged. It was weird. They just met; they hardly knew anything about each other. Yet they felt so connected already. A bond seemed to develop between them that was almost instinctual, as if they were drawn towards one another in some mystical way.

They talked and talked and talked. Their shared fascination for literature led to discussions about various genres of fiction and poetry, and, before they knew it, time flew away. He mentioned being in the Navy briefly, just as a bit of flavour in a story, and he watched as Y/N's eyes roamed over his frame. 

She interrupted him midsentence by mumbling to herself, "Oh, that's why you're so hot."

Bob stopped. His voice abruptly cut out.

"Did I say that out loud?"

"...yeah," he replied, his cheeks burning at her compliment. In his life, he'd never really considered himself as hot. He was in shape - that's essential in the Navy - but he'd always been around other pilots like Hangman and Rooster, who were 'hunkier' by society's standards. 

That insecure nerd he was as a kid was still inside of him, and it was times like this that made his insecurity resurface. He wasn't vain - his ego was never big enough to allow him to consider himself that - but he knew for a fact that he was definitely a catch. He was kind and polite (his mama made sure of that), yet he didn't consider himself as 'hot'.

"You're incredibly pretty," Bob blurted out after a moment's hesitation. "I didn't expect to meet anyone as beautiful, inside and out, when I woke up this morning."

Y/N giggled, covering her lips. "Flatterer," she teased, though there was no bite to her words, just fondness.

"I'm just saying it like it is, Ducky."

The nickname slipped out so easily. For some reason, it felt right. So naturally, it felt like something that should fit perfectly on his tongue. And maybe it did. Maybe it did indeed belong. 

The conversation continued to flow between them, yet this time there was a hint of flirtation that neither had felt before. There were touches and looks exchanged across the table. The air became heavier and more intimate, and it became obvious that this wasn't just casual flirting that passed between strangers. 

"Hey Duck, I'm going to close in 5 mins. Get your butt moving," Y/N's mother suddenly called from behind the counter. "I love you, but I'm not extending my shift any further today."

"Okay mom!"

"Take your new 'friend' with you."

With that, Y/N rolled her eyes good naturedly and turned to look at Bob, who was slightly red in the cheeks and trying to suppress a huge grin as Y/N stood up. "You heard the woman; get a move on."

Bob hurried to pack his stuff away and follow Y/N to the door until they were outside. "Did you walk?" Bob asked as the door was locked behind them and Y/N's mother turned the hanging sign to CLOSED.

"I don't live that far away, so, yeah, I walked." 

"Would... uh, is it okay if I walk you home?"

"I'd like that, Bob."

They made it to her front door in no time. They lingered for a second once they reached her doorstep, staring at each other for what felt like ages, feeling the energy build and grow between them. Then, Y/N gave up on the whole tip-toeing around the issue thing. "You should come inside. Someone might’ve broken in while I was out. I might need a strong Navy man to help me out," she stated plainly, looking him straight in the eye, daring him to refuse.

He didn't want to refuse. He simply couldn't, so instead, he nodded slowly and followed her inside the house with a blush high on his cheeks. "Strange, it doesn't look like a break-in has happened here. Maybe I should just -"

She silenced his joke by tugging his hand and, consequently, bringing him closer towards her. Bob looked down and smiled shyly at the sudden proximity between them. 

"I mean, I'm gonna stay. I want to stay. It's just... I don't usually do, uh, this," he explained, his hand coming up to cup her cheek and his thumb stroking the skin beneath her lower lip. "So..."

His words hung in the air, a little awkward and a lot nervous, but she understood nonetheless. She leaned into his touch, her eyes half-lidded and lips curling upwards in a small smirk. 

"Me neither," she whispered teasingly, leaning forward slightly and pressing a quick kiss against his cheek. Her fingers brushed his jaw, and for the briefest of moments they were suspended in silence, their breath mingling as they looked into each other's eyes. 

Bob swallowed hard, his mind buzzing with questions. Was this wise? Was this a smart idea? He'd never moved this quickly before, but with Y/N, it was different. She was different. He liked the way she made his stomach flip flop, the butterflies in his stomach, her lips on his cheek, and the way she looked at him as if she wanted nothing else but to kiss him again.

"Are you sure? We can go slower if you want?" He asked quietly, breaking the spell they'd fallen under. She shook her head and placed her hand gently on the back of his neck, caressing him ever so gently, sending a pleasant tingle down his spine.

In a blink of an eye, her lips were on his. They were soft, pliant, and warm against his, and, within seconds, everything else faded away, leaving only her, the feeling of her soft lips against his, and the feeling of her hands running through his hair.

As they smooched, Y/N walked their connected bodies into her room. If they happened to be more than an inch apart at any point, one of them was closing the distance as soon as possible. Even when Y/N pushed Bob down on the bed, she climbed on top of him, straddling his waist, and pressed herself against him within 5 seconds. 

She could feel the smile spreading onto her face as he groaned softly into her mouth as she began to trail kisses across his cheek and down along his jawline to his neck. Bob grabbed hold of her shoulders tightly, his breathing growing uneven as his desire rose. As he let his hands wander underneath her shirt, tracing soft circles around her back, he pulled away and looked up into her eyes. 

"Do you have a condom? I'd usually be prepared, but I didn't leave the house this morning thinking I'd be, uh, needing one, to be completely honest," he said nervously, biting his lip slightly, his eyes darting from hers down to her lips, and back up again.

"Yeah, of course," Y/N replied, sitting upright and reaching into her dresser drawer and rummaging through a bunch of items, eventually finding what she was searching for and pulling out an unopened box of condoms. "Bought these when I moved here, still haven't had the occasional to take the Saran off."

"Been a while?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Same here."

Their clothes were thrown off and fell into a heap on the floor somewhere in the midst of things. As soon as she felt his hands exploring the expanse of her back, Y/N gasped, her breath hitching in her throat. He took the opportunity to trail light kisses down her chest and neck, pausing whenever a gasp escaped her mouth to revel in the sound. Y/N ran her fingers through his hair, arching her back slightly as she felt him nip at her hip. "Bob, please…" She pleaded quietly, barely able to keep quiet, the heat building between them rising higher with every passing second.

He grinned against her skin as he bit down harder on her hip bone than before, eliciting a moan from her throat. "I know, I know," he murmured. "Let me savour you properly, darlin'. Then, you better believe I will make you scream my name like nobody's business."

"Oh god..."

It sounded more like a whimper than anything, and he chuckled against her and kissed his way along her stomach and down her thighs. The feeling of being touched so deliciously and tenderly was almost too much to bear. His hands travelled all over her, tracing patterns, caresses, even kisses, and then, finally, he found her sweet spot. One gentle swipe of his tongue, and she was clutching at his hair and arching upward, moaning loudly, begging him to give it a little more attention. 

"Yes, baby," he whispered against her skin. "I'll give it to you. But we're going to take it slow, darlin'. I promise," he reassured, and then, after getting comfy on his stomach, he dipped a single finger into her.

After all, Bob was a patient man. He waited for her to adjust to him first; to get used to how he touched her before he dared to move another centimetre, and, even if she was aching now, he would wait. He would try and ease her body back into the rhythm, slowly increasing his pace until it felt right, until she was screaming his name, till he got the reaction that he needed. 

Foreplay had always been his favourite part of intimacy, and this was no exception either. He was careful and gentle, giving her the chance to adjust to him and teasing her just enough for her toes to curl, until her brain was fuzzy and her heart was pounding, until she was falling deeper and deeper into the haze of passion, her fingers digging desperately into his scalp and her breaths shallow and rapid.

It was all in order to prolong the pleasure and, hopefully, cause her to come back another day for more. And, oh, did he intend to make that happen.

Who knows how long Bob spent with his head between Y/N's thighs, kissing and licking his way along the insides of her legs until the sensation became too much to bear? Tears were streaming down her cheeks, her moans turning into cries as she begged, "Bob, Bob, Bobby, please! Please! Fuck me! Need you, need your cock in me, fuck -"

And, oh boy, was she about to find out just how much he needed her too. The desperation in her voice spurred him on, making him lose control and finally give in. With a heavy, panting sigh, he slid deep into her, filling her perfectly with all he was, all she was, and all he could be. All they were together. 

The moment he started to move, she threw her head back and cried out his name in a hoarse voice, grasping his biceps with both hands as if they were life preservers. "That's it, baby, that's it," he breathed, pulling himself out once again and repeating the process over and over again. 

"You're doing such a good job, darlin', so very, very good..." he praised huskily and kissed the side of her neck repeatedly as he continued moving in her. "So, so good..."

Her nails dug painfully into his flesh, drawing small beads of blood from his body, and he gritted his teeth, pushing his weight down on her so she couldn't possibly move. She couldn't squirm away from him though; he was holding her too tightly. It was driving her crazy. 

With each thrust, Y/N's intelligence dropped until she was left as a sweaty, dumb mess beneath him, gasping and sobbing and pleading and cursing. "Oh, pretty girl," he smirked, burying his nose in her cheek. "You look so beautifully stupid right now. Am I fucking your brains out?"

It was a rhetorical question, but if it needed an answer, the way her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she came was the answer Y/N gave. She let out a silent scream of his name one final time as her walls clenched around Bob, squeezing tight, and tipped him over the edge too.

They lay there, in a tangled mess of limbs and sweat, listening to the sounds of their breathing fill the space around them.

"...Holy shit," Y/N breathed.

At the same time, their heads turned to make eye contact, and a laugh erupted from their lungs. Neither was able to stop giggling as they tried to calm themselves down and make sense of what had just happened. Slowly, Bob lifted himself and hopped out of bed.

"Where's your bathroom and kitchen?"

"Door opposite the bathroom; the kitchen is left of the living room." 

Within 2 minutes, he came back with a warm flannel and a bottle of water. He helped Y/N sit up, wiped the sweat from her forehead before cleaning up the mess down below, and then wrapped her in his arms as she rehydrated. 

"Can you pass me your phone?" she asked him, looking up towards him through half-closed eyes. Bob was quick to rifle through the pockets of his discarded jeans and hand her his phone. Y/N added her number to his phone and took a selfie of their post bliss faces to use as her contact picture. "You better not ghost me or you're dead meat, capiche?"

"I wouldn't dare to, darlin'," he chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. Well, it was supposed to be quick, but when he felt Y/N's hand come into contact with his jaw, stroking softly across his stubble, he lost any intention of stopping. He pressed his lips against hers hungrily, his other arm coming around her waist to pull her closer, and they kissed slowly, tenderly. 

When the morning came, their parting was bittersweet. Both of them were reluctant to leave, but Y/N had a job to go to, and Bob had already missed one of the lectures he was planning to go to. Plus, he had his first creative writing lecture - y'know, the one for the major he'd chosen - at lunch, and, as much as he wanted to be around Y/N, he didn't want to miss that lesson.

He knew it was silly to feel this way after one night, but he couldn’t help it. Y/N had a warmth about her that made him feel like he’d known her forever. He thought about texting her but decided against it, not wanting to come off as too eager.

Bob stepped into the classroom with a spring in his step, the remnants of a whirlwind night with Y/N still buzzing in his veins. The morning light filtered through the tall windows, casting a golden hue over the rows of desks, and for a brief moment, he felt invincible. Unfortunately, fate had other plans for him. As he slid into an empty seat, the door creaked open once more, and his heart nearly stilled in his chest. There she was — Y/N L/N. She strode in with an air of authority, her demeanour polished and professional, a stark contrast to the intimate whirlwind of the previous night. There was a flicker of recognition in her eyes as they locked, a spark of shared secrets that sent a rush of heat through him.

Her confidence radiated as she introduced herself to the class, her voice smooth like silk, but Bob caught that fleeting glint in her eyes whenever she looked in his direction. His mind raced, processing the surreal scenario: he had done what most frat boys only fantasise about—he had crossed that line and succeeded in banging his professor, all before the semester had even begun.

Bob tried to focus as she outlined the syllabus, yet every time she turned to face him or glanced away, his thoughts derailed. The air in the room felt charged with unspoken tension, a delicate dance of professionalism clashing against the wild intimacy they had shared. Her hair cascaded around her shoulders today, soft and inviting, and Bob's gaze inadvertently drifted toward her collarbones, and he caught a glimpse of faint marks that still lingered—a testament to their passionate night together. His heart thumped wildly as he fought to maintain his composure, a mix of pride and sheer disbelief bubbling within him. Could it really be that he was sitting in a class, learning from the very woman who had wrapped around him so tightly just hours before? 

As the class finally emptied, a rush of relief washed over him. He lingered, letting the last stragglers filter out, the echo of chairs scraping against the floor fading into the background. Bob stepped forward and approached her desk, the thrill of their secret coursing through his veins. “Well, this is a surprise,” he said, a grin spreading across his face, unable to contain the playful lightness of the moment.

Y/N chuckled, a delightful sound that danced in the air between them. She seemed to gather herself, a hint of embarrassment flickering across her features. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting to see you here either. Small world.”

“Look, if this is going to be an issue, I can—”

“No, it’s fine,” she interrupted, her voice steady and assured. “We’re both adults. I see that you're actually enrolled in this class and not just auditing, and if this is the course you want and as long as we keep things professional, I don’t see a problem."

“Right. Totally professional,” he replied, the teasing lilt in his tone betraying the gravity of the situation. He couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips, the memory of her beneath him fresh in his mind. "I guess I should wait until the end of the semester to ask you on a date."

“Probably for the best, yes,” she laughed, the sound rich and warm, her laughter drawing him closer despite the tension. Her eyes sparkled with playful defiance. Then she stood up straighter, a subtle shift that reminded him of the professional façade she wore so effortlessly. “Don’t think I’m going to go easy on you during class, by the way.”

“Good,” he shot back, his voice low and teasing. “Because I’m not exactly the type to settle for less than perfection.” 

The air thickened with unspoken promise, an electric connection that pulsated between them, holding the weight of their shared experiences. Bob felt alive in a way he hadn’t in years, invigorated by the thrill of the unexpected and the rush of possibilities. As he left the classroom, a smile plastered on his face, he felt the eyes of fate watching him. What had started as a night of reckless passion was transforming into a tangled web of feelings he was only beginning to understand. The world outside bustled with the chaos of students and faculty, but for Bob, the universe had narrowed down to one singular thought: he couldn’t wait for the semester to end.

She was an exceptional teacher, guiding discussions with a skill and insight that made literature come alive. He watched her command the room and admired the way she could turn a simple line of poetry into a profound discussion on life, love, and human nature. And every so often, he’d catch her looking at him with a hint of a smile, a glint in her eye that reminded him of their night at Ducky’s.

They developed an unspoken understanding, exchanging glances that held layers of meaning. He often stayed after class to ask questions, sometimes just to hear her talk. And though they kept their conversations professional, there was always a tension lingering beneath the surface, a shared recognition that they both wanted more. Sure, they’d agreed to boundaries, and Bob respected that, but he was counting down the days till he could hold and touch her again. Their amorous exchange had been a blip in the grand scheme of his life, and he was determined to expand it with no more delay than was necessary.

Fortunately for Bob, time went by in a flash. Thanks to his extensive study schedule, he was always busy. It was necessary. Whenever he slowed down, his brain would flash back to that night—her soft gasps, her sweet taste, their intertwined bodies, entangled in passion. Being busy ensured that he could wait it out, that he wouldn't interrupt his lecturer half way through her lesson to snog her face off, that he wouldn't get distracted, because he knew if he did, the day would take so long to come.

He had done a good job at suppressing his desires until one fateful library session. With only a few days left until all her students had to submit their writing portfolios, Y/N held a study session in the library to help them refine their work. This session wasn't anything unusual; it was simply a teacher helping her students prepare for the upcoming exam, and by the time they got to Bob's work, he'd completely forgotten that the subject of all of his poems and prose was her.

Obviously, some part of his brain understood that, yeah, she was his lecturer, so, duh, she'd have to read and analyse his work. Each student got a private 1-1 with Mrs. L/N (as the younglings knew her as) in one of the quiet rooms, and Bob was dreading his session. Whenever they had academic meetings, Y/N always saved Bob for last. He knew it was so he couldn't distract her halfway through her shift, but it always left him sat twiddling his thumbs in anticipation as he watched everyone else go before him.

Once it was his turn, he walked briskly toward the table, pulling out his chair and setting his folder down next to her. "Hi Y/N," he said breathlessly, his palms becoming clammy as he gripped the edge of the table. He forced himself to calm down as she peered at him curiously, her brow wrinkling slightly as she noticed the beads of perspiration forming along his forehead. 

"Hi." She reached out to wipe a bead away, a tender gesture that caused his insides to stir. "What's up?"

"Ah, nothing really, just… uh…" The words came out awkwardly, his mouth moving faster than his brain. He sighed heavily, attempting to push through his nerves. He leaned over the table towards Y/N, a goofy grin plastered on his face. "Can I ask a favor?"

"Of course."

"Can you pretend to not know that all of these poems are about you?" Bob asked shyly, gesturing to the papers. A slight flush coloured Y/N's cheeks, a coy smile curling onto her lips, and she tilted the folder so she could read what was inside.

Beneath cold waves and navy blues,  

He holds secrets in tight-lipped views.  

In cockpits, sky-bound, firm and sure,  

A warrior, honed, clean, and pure.  

But here, she breathes with ink-stained hands,  

Weaving worlds like soft, dark sands.  

Her voice, a rhythm, raw and deep,  

Stirs dreams he'd hidden, locked to keep.  

His uniform, his life’s firm chain,  

Feels lighter now with her in frame.  

Her words unfurl like silken thread,  

Untangling thoughts he'd left unsaid.  

In every story that she spins,  

He finds a place his heart begins.  

Though bound by orders, flight, and tide,  

For once, he feels alive inside.  

And as she speaks in gentle prose,  

A warmth inside him blooms and grows.  

The warrior leans close to learn,  

While letters smolder, pulse, and burn.

She flipped to the next page.

In shadows deep, where pages softly turn,  

A quiet soul with ink-stained hands does seek,  

The whispered call of words, where passions burn,  

A bookworm’s grace, her thoughts both pure and sleek.  

Her gaze is lost in realms of untold dreams,  

Each line a kiss upon her trembling lips,  

While I, entranced, watch every quiet gleam  

Of knowledge wrapped in the softest fingertips.  

Yet though her mind is bound to tomes she’s known,  

Her heart, like mine, still seeks what words can't say,  

For in her eyes, a warmth I’ve never grown,  

A yearning deep that pulls me in each day.  

Oh, let me trace the secrets she may keep,  

And in her world of words, my soul to steep.  

And the next.

In shadows deep where passion clings,  

I wait, as silent longing sings,  

For her whose touch once set aflame  

A heart now bound to her sweet name.  

She taught me words, but not the art  

Of keeping still my wild, torn heart,  

A glance, a breath, a fleeting kiss,  

And now the night is void of bliss.  

The fragrant pages know the tale,  

Of stolen hours where senses sail—  

Her lips, a promise, soft, divine,  

And every sin that calls her mine.  

But cursed be this love so frail,  

Where tender fingers weave a veil,  

For though the flame within me burns,  

Her absence leaves the world to churn.  

I ache to feel her near once more,  

To know the taste of that sweet lore,  

But now, I am but shadows cast,  

Forever bound to the lessons past.

And the next and next.

Then, when she raised her head to meet his gaze, she found his seat empty, the only sign of him being his jacket draped over the wooden back. With a sigh, she set the folder back on the desk with a small frown marring her features and went in search of him. It didn't take long before she made her way outside, as some of the younger ones had swore they saw Bob dart to get some fresh air. He hadn't made it far. 

In the purple of the evening, Bob sat on the bench right at the side of the building, staring blankly ahead. The sound of her approaching footsteps drew him away from his reverie, turning towards her with wide eyes, his face pale with shock and worry. Luckily, most students had already left campus or were cramming in the library, so despite the fact that they were out in the open, they had some semblance of privacy.

"Do you want comfort or space?"

"... I don't know." His voice trembled. “Both, maybe?” 

Y/N nodded in understanding and sat down beside him, not too close or too far apart, giving him the space to breathe and compose himself. He rested his elbows on his knees and stared at his feet, taking a moment before raising his eyes to hers.

"I'm not used to putting everything out there like that," he admitted quietly, running a hand through his hair anxiously. "I know that you know that I'm infatuated with you, but... well, now you know that I'm totally in love with you. Like, writing bad sonnets about you kind of love." 

"I quite liked your sonnet," she said with a reassuring smile, placing her hand atop his own gently as she offered him an encouraging squeeze. "Your poems were beautiful and heartfelt and full of so much emotion and passion that I was moved beyond words, and though it's currently irresponsible for me to say, the feeling is mutual."

He smiled bashfully in response, then turned his attention to her hand, studying the smooth skin, her graceful fingers, her delicate nails trimmed short and neat, and the silver ring on her finger shining brightly. Without thinking, his index finger ran across the surface of her hand, brushing the top of the ring with his thumb."Bobby," she murmured softly, turning her palm upward and allowing him to caress her skin. He did so slowly, reverently, as if it were something sacred and fragile, something which he may never have the pleasure to touch again if he weren't careful. 

Once he made contact, he began tracing circles around her wrist, following the lines of her veins and mapping the contours of her skin with featherlight touches, drawing shapes and words into her flesh wherever possible. She remained still and patient and silent, letting him draw as many hearts and roses as he wanted to let him calm himself down enough to speak again.

When his breathing eventually evened out somewhat, he lifted his hand from her arm and looked up at her again, smiling shyly. He brushed his knuckles against her cheekbone in greeting, and she giggled, her eyes crinkling and filling with mirth, before they both realised that maybe this wasn't the place for this amount of affection. "Sorry," he muttered, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson as he stood up hastily. "Um, let's go back inside?"

"Yeah, good idea."

Y/N had only taken two steps before Bob caught her wrist and tugged her back towards him. Before she had time to react, he yanked her body closer to him until their lips met and all thought flew out of her mind. Their lips collided in a hungry rush, tongues tangling together as if their lives depended upon it. Her hand clutched onto the front of his jacket while Bob's hand went to the back of her head, cushioning it so she wasn't concussed when he pushed her up against the cool brick wall of the library. Their kisses grew heavier and more frantic with each passing second, desperate and needy. 

Their chests pressed against each other tightly, leaving no room between them; their bodies moulding against each other with ease and familiarity like two halves of a whole. He gripped at her hips tighter than ever, pulling her impossibly closer and deeper into the kiss. Their mouths moved together feverishly, their tongues tangling with the taste of mint and salt and everything nice in the universe. They kissed and kissed until her back was flush against the wall, and her legs felt like jelly beneath her. 

The only thing that broke them apart was the signature chatter of her class quoting brainrot memes as they began to get closer and closer to the library exit. They stepped away from the wall reluctantly, trying hard to hide their flushed faces as they tried their best to calm themselves and gather their wits in the minute before they were found out. But it was hard when you could barely think straight.

As they walked, Y/N kept glancing towards him, her eyes full of questions, her lips curled into an amused grin. He knew exactly what she was asking: Are we really okay? He answered with a nod as he took a deep, cleansing breath.

“Hey everyone, I'm sure you're all going to do brilliantly. Please don't overwork yourself. Sleep. Stay hydrated. Eat. And, pretty please, don't worry too much! You've done the work, you got feedback to think about, and a whole semester of notes to fall back on," she instructed, giving a little wave as they passed by her class. "Good luck. Let me know if anything goes awry before next Friday and I will do my best to help you! 

With a last smile and a wave, they returned to the study room with the knowledge that they were truly alone in there. Only the librarian was there, reading a book behind the counter, her face devoid of its usual stern countenance as she snoozed in her chair. They had no plans to do anything salacious, not today anyway, but they didn't have to have that student/teacher pretence anymore. Today was just theirs, theirs to enjoy, and they could have an open and honest discussion about his poetry without having to ignore the context behind them.

Bob, his heart racing with a blend of joy and mischief, slid his arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her closer as they strolled side by side. The world around them blurred into a backdrop as he pressed a tender kiss against the crown of her head, a gentle act of affection that sent a shiver of warmth cascading down her spine. “If I take you home and fuck you stupid again, will you give me extra credit?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, a playful glint dancing in his eyes.

Y/N’s eyes widened in mock outrage, her cheeks flushing a delicate shade of pink that could rival the evening sky. “Robert Floyd!” she exclaimed, delivering a playful punch to his shoulder, the impact barely registering through the haze of laughter enveloping them.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” he laughed, his laughter infectious, echoing against the brick buildings surrounding them. But the teasing wasn’t done; he leaned in closer, a smirk playing on his lips. “Although...” he trailed off, leaving the words hanging in the air like a promise, and was rewarded with a flurry of soft hits from her.

He tightened his hold around her waist, stopping in his tracks and squeezing her tighter, their laughter mingling in a melody of youthful abandon. Y/N, unable to resist the magnetic pull between them, buried her face against his chest, the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat echoing in her ears, enveloping her in a cocoon of safety and warmth.

“Thanks to that comment, I’m going to give your assignment to another professor to grade,” she said, lifting her head to meet his gaze, her expression feigning seriousness, yet a spark of amusement lingered in her eyes.

Bob’s smirk widened, his confidence soaring. “That’s understandable. You are very, very biased towards me, ducky,” he replied, leaning forward to plant another quick peck on her lips, their mouths brushing together in a soft and intimate connection that set her heart racing.

“Oh, I am indeed,” she agreed, her voice a mock solemnity that was impossible to take seriously. With a playful tug on his hand, she continued, “Shall we go home so I can show you how biased I am?” The sultry tone slipped from her lips like honey, sweet and tempting, causing the tips of his ears to burn a bright crimson as he stole a glance at her.

Suddenly, he found himself in a rush—the desire to be alone with her, to explore the depths of their connection, propelling him forward. The thought of returning to her apartment filled with shared laughter, whispered secrets, and the thrill of their newfound intimacy made his heart race.

As they weaved through the familiar streets, the golden light of the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows on the pavement, each step taking them closer to their sanctuary. Bob felt like he was walking on air, buoyed by the weight of Y/N’s presence beside him. With every shared glance, every soft touch, he was reminded of the warmth and brightness she had brought into his life, a light that pierced through the fog of his worries and anxieties.

Weeks turned into months, and when the semester finally commenced and all the assignments had been graded, a wave of euphoria washed over Bob. He learnt that Y/N’s lecturer friend had awarded him a high score, a testament to his growth and effort, and in that moment, he felt like he was soaring through the skies in his beloved F/A-18F Super Hornet. 

Bob cradled the subject of his poetry in his thoughts every morning, realising she was not just a muse but his sun itself, illuminating every dark corner of his mind and guiding him through the clouds of uncertainty. The world was suddenly a canvas painted with their shared moments, laughter echoing in the hallways of his heart, and he knew he would do anything to keep that light shining brightly.

*Click here for my Bob Floyd masterlist (including Rhett Abbott and Miles Miller), or here for the entire masterlist*

Wanna be added to a taglist? Either comment on this post or send me a message!

taglist: @kpopgirlbtssvt @adriansboyfriend

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Self-Indulgent HCs

pairing(s): Frank Castle x fem!Reader, Matt Murdock x fem!Reader, Michael Kinsella x fem!Reader

summary: How each of the boys would care for you when you were sick, headcanons bc i am tired

warnings: non-graphic, general descriptions of sickness (just cold/fever, not covid)

a/n: this month was already rough on my allergies but i came down with quite possibly the worst cold I’ve ever had. (It’s literally so bad i had to use PTO instead of WFH days? I am literally dying.) I wrote this when I was feverish and couldn’t sleep to make myself feel better. I hope someone out there likes it 😭

Frank

I think Frank would worry a lot when his partner was sick.

He’s lost so many people and he doesn’t have a huge circle so i think it takes him by surprise a little.

But he’d do his best to hide his worries by going about his day and comforting you.

He’d get fresh produce from the store and make you delicious soup, pick up tissues and medicine for you, threaten anyone who tried to make you go into work

“Your boss still pullin’ that shit? Gimme the phone, let me talk to ‘em”

He loves being your big spoon anyways but he would not let you go if you looked or sounded ill. You’d be nestled carefully against his chest while he stroked your back until you fell asleep.

He’d keep you entertained by reading to you or watching whatever TV your fever-ridden mind is craving.

Above all, he wouldn’t leave your side until you were feeling better.

The smile on his face the next time you take him out would be brilliant. He’s just so happy that you’re here with him and feeling better.

Matt

Personally, i hate the idea of getting people sick more than actually being sick sometimes but i think this would especially be the case with Matt

His senses are so delicate, I wouldn’t want to fuck with him by being gross and loud or by getting him sick.

But there is no way this man isn’t the biggest self-sacrificing-mother-hen when someone he loves is sick.

He’d sense your illness before you would, and encourage you to take it easy and sleep a bit extra that week (above all, he’s a hypocrite.)

Of course, he’s a bit embarrassed of everything he can do, or maybe you don’t know the extent of what he is capable of, so he plays it off as “you’ve been working so hard lately, sweetheart, you need to take it easy.”

A day or two before the bug hits you like a truck, he’d come over with a bag from the pharmacy that’s just chock-full of DayQuil and Tea and cough drops and like a single bandaid

He poorly plays it off as “uh, your first aid kit was low, remember?”

Once you’re well and truly sick, he’d be stubborn as a mule if you tried to keep him away. You lock him out of your apartment? You wake up from a nap wrapped in a Devil-shaped blanket to find that someone picked your window lock.

At that point, you just cave and let him stay because you are so cold and he’s so so warm.

Mikey

Not afraid of using his puppy dog eyes to get you to stay home or in bed.

Also not afraid of crying wolf and pretending that he’s not feeling well to make you take a break

“Sorry, pet, my head is hammerin’. Think we could lay down fer a bit?”

Combined WITH the puppy eyes? You don’t stand a chance.

Though you usually take care of the housework while he’s dealing with his family’s business, he wouldn’t let you lift a finger until your temperature was normal and your voice came back.

It’s as if you’re the only person that exists to him, he’s running around trying to anticipate your every need.

It’s been a while since he’s dealt with the real world so he might ask Birdy for advice on how to care for a sick person.

Lots of home remedies (idk just vibes.)

He would have you lean against him in a scalding shower to clear your sinuses or draw you a nice bath.

Keep cool water and a cloth by the bed to bring your fever down.

Hand you cup after cup of tea until you have to threaten to tie him to the bed.

“Just lay with me, please”

“Of course, pet. Anything fer ya.”

[milimeters-morales]

me rambling about gender for some versions of miles (both canon and au) under the cut

movie miles1610B (non-binary transfem) is the most realistic and expected (imo) when it comes to a teen boy realizing she might be a teen something-else, and there are societal pressures + spider-man pressures + parental pressures + natural high anxiety levels that really add onto why she’s so hesitant and takes the longest to accept and be okay with being trans herself. she’s fine with other trans people, it’s specifically a her thing. She sees gender as just a part of life, something she’s always had, but as she learns more and more, she realizes it is a performance, and she can do whatever she wants, which ends up circling back to looking how she normally does most of the time. really simplified version but you’d have to go through my older posts for more in depth explanations for movie miles specifically. Sometimes i think of Miles being intersex too, but i don’t know enough about the types to be really confident in that hc so it’s more of an exploring starting point whenever i feel like deep diving.

comic miles (cis-genderless) would describe himself as a cis male, but only because that’s what he was assigned at birth, completely uncaring of literally anything else. He’s connected to it because that’s what he was labeled as when he was born, and how he’s connected to the people in his life, but he himself doesn’t see it as anything really important. He’s his parents’ son, he’s his uncle’s nephew, he’s someone’s boyfriend, he’s the “strange boy” to a stranger, he’s the “black dude”, and though he hates that his race has anything to do with his connection to being male, it unfortunately shapes him. To himself, he is just Miles! If someone referred to him with more feminine language, he would be shocked but not totally weirded out, it depended on intent. He’s not open about this either bc he doesn’t see it as something important to share, but Ganke and Kenneth would be the first to know if he cared to tell. if he had a spidey social media acc he would have he/they in the pronouns section

playstation miles (questioning non-binary) is diff between the two games he’s mainly in, mostly because he figured out he was non-binary ages ago and was ready to come out, but so many things have happened in a short amount of time, which basically shoved him back into the closet. He was going to come out to his parents, but then his father died, and miles had this subconscious worry about now being the “man” of the house that his mother could also rely on so she wouldn’t have to grieve alone, and to prove that he could handle his own grief as well. his grief made him forget his own gender struggles for a time, and Roxxon, Phin’s death, Aaron’s reveal, it all stacked up and he was just “fine i’m not non-binary anymore i can’t deal with another huge thing!!” Now, in SM2, he was vaguely considering it again, because it felt so right before his father died, and things seem to be going okay lately, but you know how that went. Kraven capturing him also hurt the masculine parts of himself that he liked, so throw that into the fire. He only really feels he has time after the events of SM2, but is hesitant to come out or talk to anyone about it, because he just isn’t sure and doesn’t want to seem like he’s faking, so he just stews for now. It does bother him a lot and he experiences dysphoria in the “wish i didn’t have a human body” way. poor non-binary essential worker :(

e-42 miles (agender) is right after this instead of with movie miles because of how similar he is to playstation miles and comic miles. However, he is completely ignoring it to the point where he almost forgets it entirely, because he cares so little. His remaining family and fighting to make the world even slightly better is all he really cares about, so something like gender, including being regarded as a “son” and “nephew”, mean nothing, it’s about the bond rather than the label people give to it. He doesn’t feel this pressure of not feeling like he can tell his mom or uncle, it’s more of a “i might be non-binary but i have a job rn so i don’t really care about that” thing for him. However, he doesn’t like being referred to in any feminine way, and likes neutral/masculine language.

acau miles (complicated) is definitely not cis but autism + trauma recovery makes him view himself as “not human not animal just miles and spider-man!” so unlabeled spiderthing is where he’s at. Their pronouns got lost in the wash. It missed its gender orientation. Actually, Miles doesn’t use pronouns past 9pm: Get Fucked, Well-Meaning Citizen! Also, she doesn’t understand why some people get so worked up and invested with gender and pronouns, but he does sometimes say very rude and offensive things to Peter even before learning he’s trans because of what he’s heard growing up and what it knows that generally pisses men off. Matt and Aaron are working on making him less of a personified CoD lobby dw… it’s just gonna take a bit lol. doesn’t help that Peter returns the insults in full and encourages it against others sometimes

[fortheloveofwonderland]

A Memory Locked In The Heart - Spencer Reid x fem! Reader

A/N - Requested by the lovely @overduelibrarybooks I hope this was the kind of thing you were looking for!

Find my masterlist here.

My taglists are open and requests are open.

Requested: Yes l No

Request: "could u ever write a spencer reid x reader where reader def works for the cia but more as a translator who’s kinda forced into doing agenty things in order to gather intel and on a mandated break she finds out the UNSUB before the team does so she uses herself as bait, and shoots the guy all very badass fashion n then gets interrogated bc ms girl just shot him coldblood and halfway thru she recognizes spencer bc her mother and his mom lived in the same care facility??? idk sorry my mom has paranoid too so it just hits different but u don’t have to write this if u don’t want to i love ur writing <3"

CW: disclaimer: I know next to nothing about the CIA and what they investigate so please go easy on me here. This is all made up so hopefully it makes some kind of sense. Mentions of violence and sex work, schizophrenia, Alzheimer’s, some swears. Mentions of drug use and overdose. Spanish used towards the end is from Google Translate so I apologise if it isn’t completely accurate. Italics indicate flashbacks.

Plot: Eighteen years ago you met a boy named Spencer Reid whilst visiting your mother at Bennington Sanitorium. This time you are meeting under entirely different circumstances; across the table of an interrogation room.

WC: 5.3K

—————————————————————

How did I end up here?

That was a question you kept asking yourself as you rolled into your third hour of sitting in that cold, dimly lit interrogation room at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia.

Well you supposed you’d have to go back to the beginning to truly work that out.

The CIA and FBI joint task force for a country wide sex trafficking ring they believed to be operating out of DC.

When your team at the CIA had started investigating it was estimated that the ring had close to a hundred women who had been abducted and forced into the sex industry.

A lot of women were believed to have been taken trying to cross the border. Your job as a translator had involved spending a lot of time in Mexico, helping interview witnesses and family members who didn’t speak English.

The FBI involvement had come when women believed to have been part of the trafficking ring started turning up dead.

At last count they were up to twenty bodies. The Behavioural Analyst Unit had given their profile of the man they believed to be running the show.

White male in his mid to late forties. Bilingual. Possibly born in Mexico or an area surrounding the border but grew up in DC, they assumed based on his knowledge of the area. He’s attractive, charming and has a good level of education, he’d need to be able to charm the women into trusting him. He doesn’t have a full time job because he wouldn’t have time for one. All his time and focus goes on his girls. He was tech savvy, incredibly so, he’d have to be, to be able to set up the network on the dark web which enabled his customers to pay for his services.

It hadn’t been going well. Bodies kept dropping and the task force was no closer to catching the person responsible.

This went on for six months. Everyone was exhausted. You kept hitting brick wall after brick wall. It was demoralising.

Your boss had called for mandated time off. You’d all argued but she had been absolutely adamant. You’d all been working yourselves to the bone and she didn’t want you burnt out entirely.

You’d argued but your words had fallen on deaf ears.

“Can I get you a glass of water or something?”

The voice startled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see the lanky, messy haired agent who called himself Doctor Reid, sticking his head through the door.

“Is coffee an option?”

He smiled brightly at you, a smile you swear you’ve seen before.

“Coffee is always an option.” He told you. “How do you take it?”

“Strong and black. Please.”

“I’ll be right back.”

With that the door closed leaving you to your thoughts once more.

There was something so familiar about the Doctor. His dark yet sparkling eyes, his awkward smile and the way he dressed. You couldn’t place it. But there was definitely something about him that stirred some memory buried deep in your brain. You just weren’t sure what it was.

He returned a few minutes later, bringing your coffee into the room and placing it on the table in front of you.

“Hopefully you won’t be stuck here too much longer. It’s just standard procedure.” he spoke sweetly, his voice stirring the hidden memory.

“Yeah I know. I get it.” you sighed as you spoke, wrapping your hands around the coffee. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome.” he smiled before he started backing out of the room. You wished you could ask him to stay because you felt so much more at ease with him around. But you knew you couldn’t.

He turned to you in the doorway.

“You look cold in that.” He smiled a little sadly at you.

You’d forgotten about your outfit choice. No self respecting CIA agent dressed like you were right now.

“I guess I am a little.” You shrugged.

Spencer instantly shrugged his blazer off of his shoulders and laid it in front of you on the table.

“Thank you Doctor Reid.” you spoke again before he disappeared out the door.

“Goodbye Agent Y/L/N.”

The door closed, his voice reverberating in your ears, dragging you into a long forgotten memory.

As you slipped his jacket on, your eyes fluttered closed, his scent wafting up your nose.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your eyes shot back open, a frown on your face.

“Spencer?” you muttered under your breath. “Spencer Reid.”

Where had you pulled that name from? And why did it feel oddly connected to Vegas?

You tried to push the thought away, you already had enough on your mind. There were much more pressing things to deal with than a vague memory from your hometown an undetermined amount of time ago.

***

You’d been instructed to switch off. Your time off should be used to recoup, relax and not to think about the case.

Easier said than done you thought.

Before you’d left the office on your mandated leave you’d taken photocopies of some files and slipped them into your bag. You knew you’d be in trouble if you were caught but you couldn’t help yourself. You wouldn’t be able to relax with this case still open.

As far as you were aware the BAU was still working on it but it provided you little comfort. In your time with the CIA you’d never gotten to be involved so heavily in a case. Your skills were mostly utilised in interview capacities and then you were sidelined.

You’d never had the privilege to work on a joint task force or investigate a crime so brutal.

You felt personally invested in this case. You thought if you could just find that one missing puzzle piece you could crack this case wide open.

And then you’d found it. The golden ticket. The smoking gun. The missing piece.

It had taken five days of your leave and copious amounts of coffee but you’d connected the dots no one else had.

You knew how to draw the unsub out. And you were going to do it tonight.

***

“Let’s start again from the beginning shall we?” Agent Rossi linked his fingers together on top of the table as he looked across at you, still slowly sipping your coffee.

“Oh goody.” You sighed. “Could Agent Jareau not fill you in what I’ve already told her?”

“Humour me.” The old man shrugged.

You didn’t have any ill will against him. Far from it. You were actually a big fan of David Rossi. But you were sick and tired of being treated like a criminal.

“Tell me how you managed to work out how to find him.”

You took another long sip of the coffee.

“All the pieces were there, they just hadn’t been put into place.”

“And how did you piece them together?”

“There was a pattern to where the women had been last seen. It was a guess more than anything. A lucky guess.”

“And the pattern was?”

You sighed in frustration.

“As I told agent Jareau,” you sipped your coffee. “The bars they were last seen in all had ties to Mexico. I’m not a native to DC but I know the area like the back of my hand. They were all either Mexican owned, had a Mexican name or were previously establishments such as Mexican restaurants. I made an educated guess that he frequented places such as these looking for his targets. I just got lucky I picked the right one.”

***

You felt incredibly exposed, but you supposed that was the point.

If you were going to get this guy's attention, you had to do this right.

It was a long shot. Just because Western’s bar was known for its famous tacos did not mean it would be the place he chose to pick up girls.

You just had to hope.

You wore a skimpy skirt that barely covered your ass, knee high boots and a crop top that accentuated your assets.

Your firearm was hidden in your left boot.

Your outfit garnered a lot of looks as you headed through Westerns towards the bar.

You felt men’s eyes on you from every angle, making you feel extremely self conscious. But you needed to keep your cool, exude confidence.

If your guy was here he needed to see you shine.

You ordered a soda to keep your head clear and sat at a table over the far side of the bar. From there you had a good view of the entrance and most of the room. And more importantly, the room had a view of you.

Three hours you sat there nursing your soda. It was a huge stab in the dark, you weren’t really surprised.

You finished your drink and headed out onto the cool DC street.

You made it five steps before you felt a presence behind you.

Just as you were about to turn, something covered your mouth.

You struggled against a pair of strong arms.

A smell wafted up your nose seconds before you lost consciousness.

Chloroform.

***

“Why didn’t you tell your unit chief before you went in?”

“Because I thought it was a long shot.” And because she would have been furious I was working the case.

“So you chose to use yourself as bait?”

“Yes.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

“Do you know how dangerous that could have been?” Rossi raised an eyebrow at you.

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“Yes agent Rossi, I’m well aware. But I had a lead and I wasn’t going to ignore it.” You pulled Doctor Reid’s jacket tighter around your scantily clad body.

You caught his scent again. Coffee. Old books. A hint of peppermint.

Another long shut off memory wormed it’s way to the surface.

“So are you here visiting someone?”

“Yeah.” You smiled sadly. “My mom.”

“Oh.” He returned your sad smile. “Me too.”

“Agent Y/L/N?”

You were brought back by Rossi’s concerned voice.

“Hmm?”

“I said, what happened next? You were chloroformed and then what?”

You shook your head, your mind clouded.

“Can we take a break? I could really use some air.”

Rossi sighed with a small nod.

He stood from his chair and motioned you to follow him.

You got some odd looks from his fellow agents as he led you to the elevators. They all recognised what you were wearing as Spencer’s jacket.

You followed Rossi into the elevator and he pressed the button for the ground floor.

“Agent Rossi, can I ask you a strange question?” You asked as the doors closed.

He gave you a curious look.

“I suppose.”

“Doctor Reid. As in Spencer Reid?”

“The one and only.” Rossi frowned unsure what you were getting at.

“Where is he from?”

Rossi’s frown deepened, not sure he should tell you such things about his team. But you were an agent and you didn’t pose a threat to the team.

“Vegas I believe.”

Vegas. Of course.

“Ok.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I don’t know.” You chewed your lip. “I think I might have known him.”

“Oh?”

You wished you hadn’t opened your mouth. This was not the time or place.

“I’m probably wrong. Just forget I said anything.”

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. As you stepped out you pulled Spencer’s collar to your nose and sniffed it.

No you weren’t wrong.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Hi again.” You smiled at the lanky man, Spencer you’d met a few days ago. “How’s your mom?”

“Still angry at me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stubbed the toe of his shoe on the floor.

“She came in recently?”

“Yeah a few months ago. I turned eighteen and I was able to have her put into care.” He blanched, clearly feeling guilty for his decision.

“Do you want to grab a coffee?”

“Uhm sure.” He shrugged.

He followed you through to the day room. It was late and there were only a few patients inside and a few nurses milling around.

You got two cups of coffee from the machine and the two of you sat at a table together.

“Do you mind me asking what’s wrong with your mom?” You dared as you slid him the drink.

He sighed heavily, gnawing on his bottom lip as though his life depended on it.

“She’s a paranoid schizophrenic.” He spoke clinically, words he’d had to say too many times in his life. It was as though he’d distanced himself from it. Like he was giving a patient a diagnosis rather than talking about his own mother.

“Mine too.” You gave him a wry smile. You had something in common, just not something you would like to have in common.

“How long has your mom been here?”

“Three years. She got really bad and my dad couldn’t take care of her anymore. She’s been doing much better since she moved in here.”

“That’s good.” Spencer nodded. “I hope my mom realises I did this for her. For her well being. At the moment she’s just so...angry.”

You reached across the table and placed your hand on top of his. He seemed a little startled by the physical touch but you didn’t move your hand.

“This is the best place for her. I assume from what you said earlier your dad isn’t in the picture?”

He used his free hand to sip his coffee with a sad shake of his head.

“He left when I was ten. He couldn’t handle mom's illness.”

You gave his hand a small squeeze.

“I can’t imagine what it was like for you to have to look after her by yourself. It was hard enough with my dad there. Really makes you grow up fast.”

“It really does.” He agreed. “I’m not sure I ever got to be a kid.”

“I know that feeling.”

After that you spent hours chatting about anything and everything until way into the night. It wasn’t until a nurse came and asked you politely to leave that you realised how late it was.

“I’ll probably see you around?” You spoke as you stepped outside together.

“Maybe. In a few weeks I’m heading out of state. I’m working on a PhD.” He didn’t want to tell you it was actually his second PhD.

“Oh. Ok.” You tried to hide the disappointment from your voice.

Despite the circumstances you’d enjoyed talking to someone like minded, someone who understood. You didn’t have anyone else your own age you could talk to about this kind of thing.

“Maybe we could exchange numbers?” You blushed a little.

“I don’t have a cellphone.” He shrugged.

“Oh.”

“It’s not an excuse.” He sensed you didn’t believe him. “I’m not so into technology. I don’t even have email.”

Normally you would have thought it was just a bad excuse to get out of seeing you again but the look on Spencer’s face told you he was being genuine.

“Ok.” You gave him a shy smile. “Well maybe I’ll see you again before you leave.”

“I hope so.” His eyes sparkled as he looked at you on the dark street.

There was an air between you, some kind of thick tension but you didn’t know what it meant.

“If I don’t see you again,” you spoke trying to ignore whatever it was. “It was really good to meet you and I hope your mom gets used to the facility.”

“You too.” He smiled so genuinely at you, it made your heart skip a beat.

And then you went your separate ways.

***

“Ok, so what happened next?” Rossi wasted no time once you were back in the interrogation room.

“Well I blacked out after I was chloroformed so excuse me if I don’t remember.” You gave him a sarcastic smile.

“What’s the next thing you do remember?” He reworded his question.

“I woke up in a large basement. It was gritty and dingy. And there were other women there too.”

“How many?”

“At least twenty.” You sighed letting your mind travel back to the basement you never wanted to go back to. Not even in your mind.

***

You woke with a start, your head pounding. You gasped for air as though you’d been drowning.

You blinked your eyes trying to adjust to the dark room you found yourself in.

It was cold and damp and you could hear a pipe dripping in the distance.

You tried to roll over but your arm wouldn’t budge. You were met by a loud clanking sound when you tried.

You tugged your arm, hearing the same sound and being met with a sharp pain in your wrist.

“Good luck.” A woman’s voice scoffed. “They don’t come loose.”

You blinked a few more times, looking over to your left arm. There was a heavy metal cuff right around your wrist that was attached to a metal bed frame.

That’s when you realised you were laying on a small cot on top of a ratty, itchy blanket. You were still dressed, thank god.

You suddenly remembered your firearm concealed in your boot. You patted your left calf and sure enough you felt the hard weapon still inside.

That was something at least.

Oversight on their part.

You remembered the voice you’d heard before and turned as much as you could with your arm cuffed to take in the rest of the room.

There were at least forty other cots close together lining the walls, with at least half of them containing the body of other women.

The voice you’d heard belonged to a woman in the cot next to you. She gave you a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Her eyes were broken.

“Hi,” you croaked. “I’m Y/N.”

“Delilah.” Her accent was Spanish. You were sure Delilah wasn’t her real name either.

“How long have you been here?”

She sighed, playing with a strand of curly black hair.

“What month is it?”

“September.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “Not that long then. I’ve been here since July.” She looked confused as though that couldn’t be long enough.

“Delilah?” You narrowed your eyes on her. “What year do you think it is?”

“2018…” she saw your face drop and knew instantly it was no longer 2018.

“Oh gosh.” You felt for her, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s 2020.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “Wow.”

“It’s ok.” You lowered your voice. “I’m CIA. I’m going to get us out of here. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

***

“Delilah.” Rossi opened the file in front of him. “Was that Roberta Suez?”

He pulled out a photograph and slid it across the table. You averted your gaze.

“Yes and please I don’t need to see it, I was there.”

“How did she end up in hospital fighting for her life?”

“You know how.” You huffed. “Look I’m starting to get fed up with this now.” You folded your arms. “Carlos Ramirez was a sick son of a bitch. If I hadn’t done what I did he would have killed all those women. I don’t regret what I did.”

“How did she end up in hospital?” He repeated.

“Good lord.” You grumbled. “I’ll talk but I don’t want to talk to you.”

Rossi narrowed his eyes on you.

“No? But I’m so compassionate.” He spoke sarcastically.

“I won’t say another word unless it’s to Reid.” You looked up to the two way mirror. You didn’t know why but you had a feeling he was there.

Sure enough it was barely twenty seconds before the door opened and Doctor Reid himself stepped in the room.

“I got this Rossi.” Spencer told the older man who stood up with a shrug.

Rossi left the room while Spencer took the seat he’d been occupying.

Did he remember you? It had been close to twenty years since you’d last seen each other. Had it not been for the olfactory memory that struck you when you put on his jacket you might never have remembered him.

But you knew the rest of his team was behind the two way glass, or at least some of them were so it didn’t seem an appropriate time to ask such things.

“So agent Y/L/N,” he smiled softly at you. “Can you please tell me how Delilah ended up in hospital?”

“You already know the answer to that Doctor but since you asked so nicely,” you leant your elbows on the table, entwined your fingers and rested your chin the little bridge you’d created. “She had a drug overdose. But you and I both know it wasn’t her who administered the drugs.”

“And who did?”

“I did.”

Your words hung in the air between you and Spencer. He knew the answer, the whole team did. You’d already told Agent Jareau everything.

This was a huge waste of time.

“I administered the drugs because he told me if I didn’t he would kill me. I needed to stay alive so I could save those women.”

“Who said he would kill you?”

“I don’t know his name.”

“It wasn’t Ramirez?”

“No.” You shook your head. “If it was Ramirez I would have shot him. But it must have been one of his right hand men.”

“How would you know that? You’d never met Ramirez correct?” Spencer had a soft tone to his voice which made his line of questioning easier than Agent Jareau’s.

“I’m not a profiler but I’ve been to enough seminars over the years. He didn’t fit the bill. He was young, scatty, he didn’t strike as much fear into the other women as I thought the boss would. I made an educated guess and I was right. If I’d shot at him I would have blown my chance at getting Ramirez.”

***

“Shit shit shit!” You pulled yourself as close to Delilah’s cot as possible with your restraint. “Delilah, keep breathing, try to breath. Fuck I am sorry.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks, the empty needle you’d been made to inject in her vein between your cots on the floor.

He’d held a gun to your head and said he would shoot you if you didn’t do it. You didn’t think he was bluffing.

“It happens a lot.” A woman opposite spoke up. “You’ll soon find out. If she wakes up she’ll have the pleasure of returning the favour.” She gave you an almost manic grin.

If she wakes up. It was the if you were having the issue with.

“Who’s in charge around here?”

She shrugged.

“Don’t know his name. Big guy. Tattoos. Mustache. You can’t miss him.”

“Does he come down here often?”

Again she shrugged.

“Being down here you have a way of losing track of time.” She clicked her tongue. “But he’ll be here for you later. He has to test his new girls.”

Your blood ran cold.

“Test?” You swallowed, pretty sure you knew what she meant.

“He can’t very well expect you to make him money if he doesn’t know how good you are.”

Oh god.

Your heartbeat raced. No, it was not going to come to that. You were a CIA agent and you were armed.

It was not going to come to that.

***

Spencer’s face paled a little at your words. You hadn’t told Agent Jareau that part.

“He was going to...he didn’t…”

“No.” You cut him off, pushing the memory back down. “I had a gun, remember.”

You offered him a wry smile.

“So you know what comes next.”

“I’d like you to tell me.”

The way he said it was more like he was a therapist than an FBI agent. As though he wanted you to tell him so you could get it off your chest, unburden yourself, rather than for interrogation purposes.

“Ok.” You nodded. “He came for me later that night. And that’s when it happened.”

***

“Ahh look at you.”

A deep, Spanish voice woke you.

Your eyes fluttered open and landed on a strong, tattooed man with a mustache standing over your cot.

This must be him.

“Tan hermosa.”

So beautiful.

You tried not to shudder.

You sat up wiggling your legs in your boots to make sure you could still feel your firearm. You could.

“Su nombre es Rosa.”

Your name is Rosa.

Guess again.

“Su nombre es Y/N.”

“Tú hablas español?”

You speak Spanish?

“Si.”

“Eres perfecta.” He grinned menacingly. “My clients will love you.”

He reached in his pocket and fished out a key chain. He reached over you and unlocked your cuff.

You rolled your wrist to try and get your blood circulating again.

“On your feet.”

You complied and stood up. Your legs were shaky.

He grasped your wrist, hard enough so you couldn’t wriggle free but not hard enough to leave a mark. He started dragging you across the room.

With his free hand he undid the four locks on the large steel door and pulled your through it. Once on the other side he took care to lock them all again, keeping a firm grasp on you the whole time.

You were dragged down a long, narrow corridor towards another steel door, this one with just one lock on.

He slid the key in and opened it, pulled you inside and locked it behind him.

The room was much smaller than the one you’d been held in and only housed a single cot.

He licked his lip as he looked at you. His large, thick fingers stroked your cheek and you had to try and hide your disgust.

“En la cama. Ahora.”

On the bed. Now.

You had to pick the opportune moment. You had to plan this just right. You had no doubt he had a gun on him so if you faltered even slightly, he would kill you.

“Qué tal esto.”

How about this.

You made a show of licking your lips and then dropping to your knees in front of him.

“Whoa, feisty. I like it.” He grinned, his meaty hands going to his belt buckle.

Yes. Right where you wanted him.

While he was fumbling with his belt, you reached your hand back into your left boot, drawing your gun in one swift move.

You head butted him in the crotch, sending him stumbling backwards, crying out in pain.

“Mierda!” Shit. “Usted puta!”

You whore!

You were on your feet in a second, your gun trained on him.

“You will never hurt another woman again.” You spat, furious tears suddenly streaming from your eyes.

He looked up at you, his mouth opened to speak.

But the words didn’t come out as your bullet hit him between the eyes.

“Who’s the puta now?”

***

“I would say,” Spencer chewed his lip. “You did what you had to do to survive.”

You breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank god.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly. “And I did. If I hadn’t shot him, who knows how many other women would have died.”

Spencer pushed his chair back and stood up.

“Just so you know, we got word from the hospital a little while ago. Roberta Suez, Delilah, is going to be just fine.”

“Oh thank god.” You felt tears brimming your eyes.

He opened the door and turned back to you.

“Are you coming?”

“I can leave?”

“You were never under arrest.” He smirked at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

You got up from the chair and Spencer motioned you out of the room.

“I’ll walk you out.” He showed you across the bullpen towards the elevators. There was an awkward air between the two of you.

Did you say anything? It didn’t seem as though he remembered you, was it worth reminding him?

He motioned you into the elevator first and he followed, pressing the button.

The elevator started its descent.

Time was running out.

“So uhm…” Spencer turned to you and turned too. “How’s your mom?”

A smile broke out on your features.

“I didn’t think you remembered me.”

“Are you kidding?” He laughed. “I recognised you the second you walked in.”

“It’s been twenty years.” You laughed.

“Eighteen years, seven months.” He corrected you. “But I could never forget your face.”

You blushed a little, averting your gaze.

“My moms doing ok. Thanks for asking. How’s your mom?” You looked back at him.

“Recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.” He told you sadly.

“Oh gosh I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. These things happen.” He shrugged. “Made it to thirty without having a schizophrenic break but now I have to wait until I’m older to find out if I’ll develop Alzheimer’s.”

The doors to the elevator opened and you stepped out, Spencer close behind.

“I really am sorry Spencer.”

“It’s ok.” He shrugged. “Is your mom still at Bennington? I used to see her when I went to visit my mom but I moved her out a little while ago.”

“Yeah she’s still there. She likes being close to my dad.”

You both hovered by the exit, not ready to say goodbye.

“Can I take you for coffee? If you don’t have anywhere else to be.” Spencer blushed as he spoke.

“I’d like that. A lot actually. But I’d really like to shower and change out of this getup.” You laughed. “How about dinner?”

“Dinner sounds perfect.” He grinned at you.

You gave him a smile and turned to leave but before you made it to the door Spencer spoke again.

“Y/N,” he called your name, his voice cracking a little. “You uh...you forgot something.”

You turned to face him curiously.

He walked closer to you and without a second thought, placed his hands on your face and kissed you.

For a second you stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

But after a few moments you wrapped your arms around his neck and opened your mouth to deepen the kiss.

When the kiss ended you were both smiling at one another.

“What was that for?” You asked softly.

“Oh you know…” he shrugged with a coy smile. “Just something that needed to be done.”

“I’ll meet you back here in a few hours.” You told him, touching his chest briefly.

“Ok.”

“Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.” He croaked.

And with that you sauntered out the doors but not out of his life.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Spencer?” You’d only made it a few paces away from Bennington before you stopped in your tracks, calling his name. “You uh...you forgot something.”

He turned to face you curiously.

You walked closer to him and without a second thought, placed your hands on his face and kissed him.

He stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

It was just a brief kiss, Spencer was too confused to do anything but stand there dumbly.

“Wh-what was that for?” He swallowed.

“Just something that needed to be done.” You smiled. “Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.”

And with that you sauntered back down the street, hoping that one day, the universe would lead you back into each other’s lives.

—————————————————————

Taglist (let me know if you would like to be added) -

@muffin-cup

@andiebeaword

@mggsprettygirl @measure-in-pain

[8thhousemomfriend]

The signs at their worst

Today my Pisces guy friend questioned why there was such a bad stereotype surrounding Pisces men. I said correlations have been collected. Then it got me thinking about how I would sum up the epitome of a bad pisces and/or their bad qualities. Then I thought about how many people also hate cancers.. and also hate every other sign for one reason or another. And so this post is born. Sorry for being a bitch ily. Starting w pisces bc they were my inspiration <3 Also idk it’s not unique but I had fun

Pisces at their worst: a passive aggressive pathological liar with both a victim complex and raging superiority complex. Won’t stand up for themselves then complains about it. And won’t shut the fuck up about their acid trip. It’s not that unique but I’m glad you have empathy now ig

Aries at their worst: so angry and self centered they actually become 10x dumber. Extremely selfish and grandiose self image. Will be just straight up mean, and pick on you like a 3rd grade bully lol. The type to take out all of their past aggression from the past 10 years on you because you said they cooked the pasta for too long

Taurus at their worst: a gluttonous lazy fuck watching hentai with cheeto puff dust all over their face. Still thinks they have the right to the highest standard in a partner, and the right to critique others looks in great detail

Gemini at their worst: I’m so sorry but a fake bitch that won’t shut the fuck up. Zero empathy, purposefully not reading the room because they want to talk in order to hide from their inner worlds and escape responsibilities

Cancer at their worst: boring self pitying lazy bitch who’s not gonna tell you what they need. Will go cold on you in an instant because of a micro expression. Playing too uwu and innocent for no fucking reason like stop. Thinks they’re different then other cancers and isn’t

Leo at their worst: Fake superficial hoe that can shoot the nastiest looks you’ve ever seen. Incredibly obvious fragile shield of self importance and self respect. Really they’re going out every night and are broke bc they spent all their money on Shein and alcohol

Virgo at their worst: the most annoying mother fucking nitpickers. Will hyper focus on tiny mistakes in your grammar and make it huge deal for some reason instead of just admitting they’re wrong… or even worse, that you’re right. If you make them angry, these are the people that will actually destroy you and turn heartless. They see everything about you. Very obvious god complex that reflects feeling extremely unworthy on a core level

Libra at their worst: like gemini, the fakest most plastic snakes ever. Even more fake then gemini. Because they’ll sugar coat and patronize you the entire time they’re pretending to like you. The most stalker-y paranoid people I’ve met. Will actually think you’re a bad gross person bc you didn’t blend your foundation onto your neck.

Scorpio at their worst: straight up rude nasty and mean. Just cruel. Will intentionally radiate the darkest meanest energy towards you. Will not talk to you. Will talk shit. Very stereotypical mean person things but taken to the next level. Def will try to destroy you mentally

Sagittarius at their worst: faux clown. Pretending to be oblivious to their asshole behavior by writing it off as honest and ‘a joke’ non thinkers that will plunge themselves into parties and drugs and then literally roast you when you ask why their rent is three weeks late. Just go to fucking therapy

Capricorn at their worst: boring and judgmental. Idk. Just like boring mean people that do coke and think they’re better than you because in five years they’ve planned to have a house, 2.5 kids, a dog, and veneers. Will bypass all morals to be number one in a system that doesn’t matter, and doesn’t give a single fuck about them

Aquarius at their worst: has the audacity to be annoying and pretentious when they’re literally a gamer. Thinks they’re unique because they watched a video about the pineal gland and draws star freckles on their face with eyeliner. Refuses to bring themselves down to earth and make connections in order to protect their god complex but will complain about being alone… and then when people reach out they stay ghosting

All roasts welcome in the comments <3 let’s be mean

[charlie-pippin-faraday]

House of Anubis birthday headcanons

This is a branch off my previous post where I talked about birthdays and star signs. Now I’m gonna talk about more detailed and ~fun~ headcanons

They are the 1995-96 school year

Nina and Joy are the oldest (I’ve already had lengthy discussions about this, about whether they’re the oldest or youngest. I personally believe they’re the oldest, so that’s what I’m going with in my headcanons). Their birthday is July 7, 1995 (Cancers 🦀). And yes usually July birthdays are on the younger end, but the wiki says Amber’s September birthday and Eddie’s November birthday are 1995, and fall birthdays are definitely on the older end. This means that the January-June birthdays of that year are gonna be in 1996. It’s not totally out of the question for a summer/July birthday to be on the older end instead of the younger one. Because Eddie’s November ‘95 and he’s in their year, they kind of have to be the oldest. So, conclusion: Nina and Joy are the oldest ones in the house

Both Nina and Joy definitely had pool parties for their birthday as kids. One or both of them almost definitely had ice cream cake at least once. Nina also thinks the idea of being in school on her birthday is barbaric

Season 3 is their senior year, meaning it’s the year they’re all turning 18. This is part of the reason Amber was making such a big deal about her birthday in S3; 1) it’s Amber so of course and 2) it was her 18th birthday, so she absolutely wanted it to be special

Because they were all turning 18, Amber wanted to make everyone’s birthday special. She planned to throw parties for everyone’s birthdays (except Joy, RIP, who turned 18 in the summer before the school year started). However, Amber wasn’t actually around to throw any of those parties. But she did leave all her party stuff behind, so the rest of them use her party supplies for everyone’s 18th birthday parties

Amber’s birthday is September 9 (a Virgo 😘), so every year she sees her birthday as the celebration to kick off the school year. She wants a huge celebration and a party and cake and presents for her birthday every year. She’s also definitely the high school girl who had her friends decorate her locker and had birthday balloons tied to her bag that she carried around all day on her birthday every year. She also definitely wore like a birthday tiara

I believe that Mara is a Libra (⚖️), and that her birthday is in early October (my headcanon is Oct. 6). She likes having a fall birthday because she likes how cozy it is and she likes to indulge in a pumpkin spice latte. She doesn’t like to make a huge deal about her birthday, and whenever people try to make a fuss she’s like no no there’s no need to make a big deal. She doesn’t want like the world’s biggest party, however, if anyone tries to make her do anything she doesn’t want to do on her birthday, she gets very pissy

Eddie’s birthday is November 19 (fuckin Scorpio 🦂), meaning that it is very close to American Thanksgiving. As a child he would always say to his mother that Thanksgiving “got in the way” of his birthday

Patricia’s birthday is December 8 (Sagittarius 🏹), and originally she’s not a big fan of her birthday and it makes her angry because she has to share her birthday with Piper (obviously) like she has to share everything. Birthday parties as children were not fun for Patricia bc obviously there would be one party for the both of them and her parents would skew it towards Piper. Patricia resented her birthday for awhile. However, Joy, always tries to go out of her way to make her birthday special and just for her (“You will have a good time on your birthday, Patricia!”), and eventually she comes around to enjoying her birthday as long as it’s exclusively her birthday

Fabian is absolutely a Capricorn (🐐), everything about him screams Capricorn. Which means his birthday is anywhere from late December to mid-January, and I believe his birthday is definitely two days before Christmas. He gets really grumpy and bitter about his birthday because of that; his birthday constantly gets pushed to the side for Christmas, and he can never spend his birthday with his friends because it’s always over the holidays. He says it’s fine (“it’s fine”) and that he’s just not a big birthday person, but that’s a lie he’s just grumpy about it. He was gifted many combo birthday-Christmas gifts as a child which he was not a fan of. He also does a little bit of “i hate my birthday out of spite” in the vein of Chandler Bing and Thanksgiving, but like only a little bit [side note: my dad’s birthday is two days after Christmas, so I can confirm that people with Christmas-adjacent birthdays are absolutely grumpy and “woe is me” like this]

I believe KT is an Aquarius (🏺) and that her birthday is at the very end of January (my headcanon is Jan. 29). She was definitely that kid in school who brought cupcakes into school on her birthday, and she continues this tradition at Anubis House. She wakes up early on her birthday so that she can make cupcakes to bring to class. Alfie’s a big fan

Willow is for sure a Pisces (🐟), and her birthday is in late February (my headcanon is Feb. 24). The thing she wants the most for her birthday every single year is for it to snow on her birthday. She wants her birthday to be “a winter wonderland.” And whenever it does actually snow on her birthday, it’s the best thing to ever happen to her in her entire life, and she spends all day in the snow

I believe Mick is an Aries (🐏), and his birthday is in late March (my headcanon is March 30)

I believe Alfie is also an Aries (🐏), and in my mind is birthday is on April Fool’s Day. No one believes him when he tells them at first. His birthday is always a riot. Everyone feels bad about getting mad at his April Fool’s Day pranks because they don’t want to make him upset on his birthday, and because of this he goes just a little bit mad with power

Because their birthdays are 2 days apart, Alfie and Mick often had joint birthday festivities. Alfie loves sharing; Mick is not so keen about it. Alfie often takes over the birthday festivities and tends to make them more about himself, which steams Mick a little bit. However, Alfie also enthusiastically calls the two of them “birthday buddies” which Mick can’t help but like

I can totally see Trudy either A) making two cakes or B) making one of those cakes that’s split down the middle, like one half is chocolate/chocolate and one half is vanilla/vanilla or whatever. And she totally puts their faces on the cake (which they both would love) and puts the face on each respective half so they know whose is whose. “Whoever’s cake you pick is who you love more,” Alfie declares every year, making the whole house choose sides

Now Jerome, I believe, is a Gemini (👯‍♀️), and his birthday is in mid-June (my headcanon is June 11). This means he’s the youngest one in the house, which he absolutely fucking hates. He tries to keep his birthday a secret from everyone for the longest time. For awhile, they think that Alfie is the youngest, and he would prefer to keep it that way. He absolutely does not want anyone to know that he is anubis house baby. He declares the day they find out the truth the worst day of his life. Everyone makes jokes about it which angers him to no end. “I am the tallest one here!! Don’t disrespect me like this!!” “Yeah but you’re still the baby of the house. Have you hit puberty yet?”

Once Jerome’s 18th birthday hits and they have the final 18th birthday party, Trudy gets incredibly emotional because all of her babies are adults now. She definitely cries a little. Or a lot

[firelxdykatara]

Touching Zuko’s Scar

It’s entirely possible that someone has written meta on this before, and possibly done it better/more eloquently than I’m about to. However, I have Things To Say and I’m going to say them, and hopefully my point comes across! This post is largely spurred on by a few posts I’ve seen in the tags lately which have... rather baffling takes on the whole ‘who touches Zuko’s scar and why’ situation, particularly in regards to feeling the need, for some reason, to diminish the scene in which Katara touches his scar and the importance of that moment for both of them.

From what I can tell, this was done in an attempt to prop up Maiko, which I suppose makes some amount of sense since that is a ship which can barely stand on its own without tremendous amounts of headcanoning to fill in the gaping holes left by the fact that the entirety of their relationship development happened off-screen (and the glimpse we do get into it in the ‘going home’ midquel comic leaves a lot to be desired in terms of why Zuko would even want to be with her, but that’s another discussion entirely). But it still doesn’t quite fit, because the scenes with Katara and with Song are so much more meaningful, both in terms of Zuko’s arc and the way the girls relate to him (and it also ties into Katara feeling so hurt by Zuko’s betrayal, and needing more than any of the others before she can forgive and accept him into the gaang).

Now, that out of the way, I do want to say up front that the intention here is not to be particularly anti Maiko, but to examine the situations in which Zuko’s scar is touched (or almost touched), and the similarities two of these scenes have which are not shared by the third (at which point, you’re obviously free to draw your own conclusions).

Also, please bear with me--I can’t take screenshots or anything, so I’ll reference scenes and the episodes they come from but there won’t be images.

Under a cut bc this got long

To start off, there are three moments in the entire series where a character touches, or tries to touch, Zuko’s scar with her hand. (I say ‘her’ because all three instances occur with girls near Zuko’s own age.) The first moment is in The Cave of Two Lovers, the second episode of book two--this is the moment where Song sees Zuko’s scar, recognizes it for the intentional burn from a firebender that it is, and reaches for it.

Song: Can I join you? I know what you’ve been through. We’ve all been through it. [looks at Zuko’s scar] The Fire Nation has hurt you. [she slowly reaches for his scar, but before she can touch it, Zuko grabs her wrist and stops her; she puts her hand back in her lap] It’s ok. They’ve hurt me too. [pulls up the leg of her pants to reveal the burn scars there]

The second moment comes at the end of book 2, in The Crossroads of Destiny, in a moment that is a deliberate parallel of Zuko’s connection with Song--but this time, he lets Katara touch him.

Katara: [she holds up a vial] This is water from the spirit oasis at the North Pole. It has special properties, so I’ve been saving it for something important. [moves closer to Zuko, standing in front of him] I don’t know if it would work, but... [Zuko closes his eyes, and Katara’s fingers touch his scar; the scene holds there as the music swells, before they’re interrupted]

Like Song did, Katara felt a connection to Zuko via a similar trauma he suffered. However, unlike Song, Katara knew who Zuko was--the banished prince of the Fire Nation, and someone who had been her enemy for most of the past several months. However, she still feels compassion and empathy for him, and it is for this reason that she takes his subsequent choice harder than anyone else in the gaang does (and why it takes more for him to earn her forgiveness).

Now, the third moment is... rather incongruous. There is neither compassion nor understanding involved in touching his scar, there is no real emotional connection, and it comes right on the heels of his girlfriend--someone we’re supposed to believe cares about him and his emotional wellbeing, since they’re in a relationship (which happened off-screen, but I digress)--shutting down his attempt to talk about his feelings, something that will present a conflict in their relationship later on.

Mai: [yawns] I just asked if you were cold, I didn’t ask for your whole life story. [she moves forward, smirking, and then chuckles, putting one arm around his neck and pulling his face towards her with her other hand] Stop worrying. [they kiss, and then Mai walks away, leaving Zuko to stare out at the horizon again; the wiki transcript says he looks relieved, but to me he looks resigned more than anything]

What’s interesting about this moment is, for one thing, it’s unclear if Mai is even supposed to be touching his scar at all. Giancarlo Volpe, the director for this episode, put the original storyboards for the scene up on his DeviantArt, and in them, it seems he was fairly careful to make sure Mai was not touching Zuko’s scar. This would make sense, considering that touching Zuko’s scar was presented as a very big deal--he specifically prevented a girl from touching his scar in the beginning of book 2, and at the end, he allowed another girl to touch him, showcasing vulnerability and trust in that moment. It is the culmination of one small part of his character arc, and that makes the moment that Katara touches his scar even more meaningful.

Of course, I can’t say definitively that it was an animation mistake or something that was deliberately changed during production (which, considering there is a moment later in the book where Bryke mandated a change, isn’t outside the realm of possibility), but it does present interesting implications.

However, even if you take the scene at face value and assume that Mai was intended to be touching his scar....it’s still presented in an entirely different framework than the previous two scenes, despite occurring almost immediately after Zuko’s moment with Katara in the caves (at least as far as episode count).

The different framework being, of course, the fact that it.... doesn’t mean anything at all.

In the first two scenes, Zuko’s scar and his pain--as well as the pain of the girls who are forging an empathic connection with him based on understanding each other’s trauma--is the focus. Touching, or attempting to touch, Zuko’s scar is the point--it is very deliberate, and there’s no way to argue against it because the writing is very explicit, and nothing else would make sense for those scenes. On the other hand, you could take out the moment where Mai touches Zuko’s scar and lose absolutely nothing--because the focus is not on Zuko, but rather on the fact that he was attempting to open up emotionally to his girlfriend (and note that this is the first indication we get in the show that they are together--take out the kiss completely and no one would even know they’re dating, let alone supposedly like one another even as friends), and was shut down with a sarcastic quip, ostensibly because Mai simply didn’t want to hear it. (This is in keeping with her later characterization, where she would much rather distract him and keep him from actually talking about any of his problems, but @araeph goes into the nature of Mai and Zuko’s emotional intimacy [or lack thereof] in much greater detail in this essay, so I won’t get too deep into it here.)

Mai touching Zuko’s scar doesn’t mean anything to the audience because it doesn’t mean anything to Zuko. He doesn’t react to or acknowledge it in any way, it’s as if he doesn’t even notice it happening (perhaps because it wasn’t supposed to? but again that’s speculation), and nothing in the scene would change if it didn’t. It simply doesn’t matter. On the other hand, Song nearly touching Zuko’s scar and then Katara actually touching his scar? They matter to him--and to the show, and therefore the audience--very much. Both moments are incredibly important to Zuko’s overall arc, because together, they show how far he had come in his own emotional journey over the course of the book.

Of course, it isn’t enough to keep him from choosing to side with Azula, because his journey was far from complete--but the fact that he was able to show such trust and vulnerability to a girl who had been his enemy not very long ago? That was huge. Because Zuko didn’t just let Katara touch his scar--he closed his eyes. She could have hurt him in that moment, but he trusted that she wouldn’t. He trusted that she was willing to use special water she’d been saving for something important--and he trusted that, in that moment, he was important to her.

It wasn’t just Zuko showing trust either, though--Katara showed trust in him. She trusted, after a few minutes of conversation and learning about the loss of his mother (and, specifically, the fact that the Fire Nation was responsible for the loss of his mother, just as it was responsible for the loss of hers), that he had changed--that he was different, and she could trust him. She was willing to use the spirit water she’d been carrying around for months on someone who had recently been so much an enemy that she fled from the tea shop, convinced that he’d somehow infiltrated the city and was planning something.

The fact that she trusted him in that moment is exactly why she took his next choice so hard, but it is also why their relationship cemented itself so solidly after The Southern Raiders, giving them quite possibly the strongest relationship in the gaang outside of Katara and Sokka.

Anyway, that was a lot of words for what essentially amounts to this: Song attempting to touch Zuko’s scar in the beginning of book 2 is explicitly paralleled by Katara being allowed to touch his scar at the end of it, and both moments occur during scenes where Zuko’s pain and trauma are acknowledged and validated, and where the person he’s speaking with feels a connection to him because of that shared trauma--because they understand what he has been through. It’s likewise important to note that while Song didn’t actually entirely understand, because she didn’t know who Zuko was or what being traumatized by the Fire Nation actually meant to him, Katara did--and she still was able to feel for him, connect to him, and want to help him.

By contrast, the moment with Mai occurs in a scene where Zuko’s pain and trauma are invalidated and dismissed, where his girlfriend attempts to distract him rather than help him through what is clearly a moment of great emotional turmoil. No, she shouldn’t have to be his therapist, but emotional support is vital in any relationship--especially when one party is traumatized and desperately needs support and love--and it is notably lacking from Maiko, starting from their very first romantic scene together.

Make of that what you will.

[deanwasalwaysbi]

This post from @crookedcryptid suggesting Dean and Castiel were canonically together from Dean's prayer confession on put a big stupid grin on my face, and then I went off and analyzed every episode that came afterward. So here you go?

Castiel’s in about every other episode from that point. And they are actually separated in the majority of the majority of the episodes, but the way they interact is just loving.

Episode by episode analysis under the cut. 

At The Trap, Dean confesses to Castiel in his prayer how he really feels (but not like that at least not in Chuck's censured version that we see) while Eileen and Sam split up bc of Chuck. It's late revealed that Chuck sent Sam Eileen and Sent Cas & Dean to Purgatory so they'd lose hope. (Cas must have defied Chuck's plan yet again by stopping Dean from voicing his feelings bc that's the only explanation I have to make this make any sense. (x) )

After Dean's confession, the next episode immediately separates Cas & Dean but Dean pines after the domestic life like Garth has with his family, an alternative lifestyle Dean once saw as unacceptably evil. (x)

But then next episode Castiel goes and finds Jack and brings him home. Brings him home to Dean who does this. (See gif above that lives rent free in my mind /\)

He holds Jack’s face just like he did Ben’s.  He looks into Jack’s eyes, one then the other, as if to verify that it’s really him. Then he looks from Jack to Castiel.

This dad moment. This neck hold and look to Castiel that simultaneously says, “you brought my son home to me” but also screams in Jensen’s headcanon that Dean used to look at Jack and see Lucifer but now he looks at him and sees Cas. 

(Tho that shouldn’t be hard since they clearly cast their combined biological child.)

I’m obsessed with it. It haunt my dreams and inhabits my waking brain.

The fact that this is not before ‘The Trap’ but after is so important. They didn’t set it right between them artificially, by Cas bringing Jack home. Instead, they set it right between them and then they got their son back.  Otherwise, it is the last piece of the puzzle to patch their relationship.  Dean was envious of Garth’s family, and suddenly Dean has his back.

In Galaxy Brain Chuck’s screen shows a view of Dean and Cas sitting super closely huddled together at the kitchen table. (x) Is actually from an earlier episode. There’s also the dadliest dadstiel moment ever, with Castiel letting his god killing, resurrected, super powered, three-year-old win at connect four, which was not in the script, but added by Misha and Sp8. (x)  When Sam and Cas disagree on Jack, Cas backs up Jack and Dean supports Cas over Sam.  The husbands share a whiskey while reveling in how they brought Jack up right,  “I knew it, Dean. When I was with Jack’s mother, she… You know, Kelly just had faith that Jack would be good for the world, and I felt it, too. I knew it. And then, when everything went wrong, and God took him from us… I was lost in a way I’ve never been before. Because I knew the story wasn’t over. I knew Jack wasn’t done. And I was right.” (Even if Dean’s a little too excited about using Jack as a weapon.) (Maybe this line explains what's been up with the Hellers these past 6 months yall.)

This is huge, because Dean was destroyed at the end of last season, imo, bc his idea of Jack was destroyed and he felt the need to cut himself off from all thoughts that he could have that family.  (x)

Cas also wordlessly goes into Dean’s backpack in a moment of routine casual intimacy.

Destiny’s Child & Dean calling Cas an idiot for risking his life yet again- not knowing that Cas felt secure in the knowledge that he wouldn't die bc of his deal. Dean was legit scared to lose him again. (oh no my heart). With that extra knowledge Cas had it's exactly the kind of thing Dean would do. Dean's done this exact thing before both when he was, and was not, suicidal. (S13, S6) They get Jack’s soul back, but first the classic “oh no my child has ingested something”.

Last Holiday- No Cas. 😒

Gimme Shelter - Our boys are separated yet again - Castiel talks to Paster Sexy (recast doctor sexy) who says it’s okay to be gay. We get a lot of charming Cas with Jack moments. Something happens in this episode, it happens off-screen and it's something we've basically have never seen in this series. Jack tells Castiel that he expects to die to defeat Chuck and rather than fall into the pattern we've seen every single season, Castiel immediately tells Dean what is going on, immediately tells Dean everything he needs to know to protect Jack.

Drag me Away From You (ugh oh no and they will) - No Cas

Unity - end of the warm wuvy dov. 

Dean lets Jack think he isn’t family.  Sam discovers that if they let Jack kill Chuck that Billie will kill Eileen, anyone from another dimension or resurrected and Dean. Looks. At. Cas. (x) The fear in his eyes. 

By this point Dean is unhinged. He’s back to the beginning of the season when he was afraid that all of this was Chuck’s control rather than a real relationship between them. This should have been an ‘absolution’ moment for Jack, the one Castiel says here that Jack doesn’t need from anyone but himself. The closest we get to confirmation that Cas has learned that lesson himself. (x) Dean was so destroyed after his idea of Jack died that it split up his marriage …  I mean….  Dean already chose Jack’s life once, even after Mary.  Dean is choosing him over using him as a weapon to kill Chuck is huge considering how spun out Dean was by this point.  I’m convinced that without Cas being there Dean would not have stopped, and might have let Jack sacrifice himself, might have shot Sam giving Chuck his ending.

I’m also convinced that Chuck designed The Trap to have Cas die 8 episodes ago. (x) That Dean was never supposed to have this post trap period with him.  So that he would be hopeless just like he was in episode 19.  That was in the version Chuck wrote back in episode 4. Without Cas, Chuck would have gotten his ending. (x) Woof there is a sentence that hurts in 15x20

18 - skipping this winchester main pain for the mo-

So this all got me thinking about Dean’s face after Cas says he loves him, the little choked up headshake, like maybe that’s just verbal confirmation of something he, on some level, already knew. (x)

I haven’t hit 15 in my rewatch yet and I’m sure I will find new a different things to piss me tf off when I do. 

Morning erybody?

[jay-durian]

BESTIE HEYYYYYY I would like to ask for a ship <33 I've seen so many of these and it's my first time asking for one, cause it's you <3. okay so, I'm a virgo, and im an infp, and I'm so so short like everyone keeps using me as an armrest (I'm legal I just dont feel good saying my age, but i think yk that) okay what do I say now,,,,, I like baking, late night drives, I can cook,,,, (kinda)(not really) im the baby of my friend group, every single friend I have mothers me around, I like fall sick so easily it's like funny at this point and I get so stressed like all the time. i love reading and listening to music (currently obsessed w olivia rodrigos new album) I have a good sense of fashion but I'm too lazy to actually put that sense into something good (ykwim?) I love love love pastries and cupcakes, I have some almost every other day, they're so good I cant, ah yes and I tend to get insecure pretty easily. and I guess that's it?!?!! this is so chaotic im sorry😭😭

Awie your so cute pls-🥺 the fact that you tried it bc it's me I'm TOT also I got your other ask too so I'll just add the screenshot of it on this answer itself ^^

I ship you with jay!!!

No matter how many times I say this, I'll never get tired of it. Jay loves the fact that your short 🤩 it's just that he wants to take care of you and treat you like a baby 🥺 (even though your prolly older than him)

Since you can cook and bake I totally feel like you and jay would spend lots of time trying out new recipes and experiment with dishes

He'd love taking you to long drives in the middle of the night (who knows y'all might do something more than just going for a drive 😗😗)

Jay would love taking care of you when you get sick, he'd make you soup, buy you medicines, frequently check your temperature and just pamper you 🤧

He'd basically spoil you with all sorts of shit may it be clothes, accessories, Food, skin care/make up products... You name it he'll buy it

I can totally see you both reading a book on the couch while Olivia's songs play in the background (I love her songs :3 )

He'd help you pick outfits and dress up so that you won't have to do any of that on your own 🤩🤩🤩

He'll frequently buy you pastries and sweets (I bet he'd buy you something or the other everyday ☠️)

As for you being insecure, he loves you for who you are, he loves everything about you, may it be physical appearance, voice, or any habbits. He thinks your amazing and he lets you know by reminding you about it or leaving small notes around the house 🥺 (and yes your amazing, I won't take a no 😁)

Since you use Corny pick up lines and shit... Both of yall would be huge ass flirts (anyone looking at y'all would think y'all are just random people flirting around 🤡)

Since your not so great at romance, jay will do it for you 🤩 there's no way someone can say that he isn't romantic. That boy will do such sweet and cute stuff. He would even plan a candle light dinner for your anniversary or smn 🥴

He loves it when your all happy and bubbly cause hello?! We all know jay is soft for such stuff 😂

Overall y'all would be such a cute couple who constantly flirt with eachother like it's no big deal 🤠 *cries in single*

Tysm for sending this love, have a nice day 🥰

[halcyon-writings]

family

requested?: yes (anonymous) //tldr, if alucard had a sibling (the reader, of course) dealing with the loss of family, both living and not

note(s)/warning(s): canonical character death, spoilers babyyyyy, violence and injury, angst it’s rare for anyone in this series to have a good time huh?, also for this being that the reader can literally look however you want, imma say Lisa isn’t white bc I do what I want and it’s my fic :) this is also the most i’ve written in a good while omg, im highkey proud so pls don’t let this flop

Lisa Tepes is dead.

Your mother, is dead.

Killed, burned alive. Gone to ashes.

All because the church had believed she was a witch of sorts. Several thoughts dance in the back of your mind as you gaze upon the pyre. Smoldering from the heat, the flames gone. Your father leaving his message, no, his warning, that he would act in one year.

“A farce that was!” You hear a shout, and you force down the bitter laugh, throat tight and eyes burning. Especially so when you slowly begin to hear continued shouts of agreement, from voices previously silent.

Here your mother was, her final resting place. Burned to ashes for some sick show of power.

And you could do nothing as she was mocked for it.

Your fist clenched at your side, you feel your nails cutting into your skin, but you walk away to return home.

And to say that the castle was no less better was an understatement. Your father was most likely in his quarters.

And when you finally sit down, the weight of your weary finally settling against your soul, do you allow yourself cry. Quiet tears turning to sobs as you muffle your voice with a pillow.

You had failed her. Missing the chance to save your mother, too late to have done anything.

But you pause, noticing the presence at your door, your brothers familiar knocking pattern resounding suddenly through the empty hall.

“Come in,” Your voice is embarrassingly raspy. As you clear your throat, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. But it wouldn’t hide the redness of your eyes.

Adrian says nothing, and a part of you wishes he did. His larger hand takes yours. A comforting squeeze.

You blink again feeling your eyes burn, and you squeeze his hand back.

“Father is...” He trails off, no doubt thinking of what he could say next.

“What he plans on doing, it’s not justice.”

You stare up at him, But it would be deserving. A bitter corner of your mind supplies.

While Adrian had taken after Mother in his demeanor, much more kinder, more welcoming. You were no doubt like Father. Reserved, distrusting, easily prone to grudges if you were wronged in some way.

But you bite your tongue.

“He gave them a year,” You murmur after some time, “But no doubt he’s ready to calling his armies.”

At this Adrian turns alarmed. the warmth from his hand slips away.

“We must stop him!”

You’re still reeling from the events from earlier today, and a part of you wishes to have no part in his attempt to try and stop your father. But then you remember your mother.

Her kindness, regardless of how she was viewed for being different.

And your warily stand anyway.

If only you had more sense. Your father remains eerily silent as he embraces you both. His hold tighter, and while Adrian seemed convinced, you saw the dark look in his eyes.

The year had passed. You weren’t surprised to hear of the bloodshed.

It was naive to expect otherwise. While reluctantly following your brother, you can only stand, frozen as your blood feels like ice in your veins as your remaining family clashes.

“No.” Your voice is barely a whisper.

They don’t hear you.

Glass shatters.

And foolishly enough, you rush forward.

-

With your brother injured and fleeing, and you yourself were not free from any sort of pain.

Stepping in between the two as they fought ended with a gnarly gash on your shoulder, as you fell to your knees and blood slipping past your fingers. Your father stands in front of you, like a protective pillar as your brother stares in shock, quickly wanting to help you in some way.

And then the fight is over. Your brother is gone too.

The castle is much larger and colder now.

As you’re confined to your room, the wound healing into an angry red, then to a muted and dull scar. For a moment you wished it took longer, your father guilty and you were reminded of times you had been sick when you were younger. While you had not been too keen on the typical children’s books, reading theory on physics and other sciences only seemed fun when he would read to you and you’d ask questions in between passages. (Your voice funny from a stuffy nose led to laughter and a small coughing fit but otherwise it was nice).

But now was not the time to reminisce on the happy childhood.

You know you cannot stay. Ultimately, Adrian had been right. Once you feel as though you can move your arm once again, slowly, you begin pack a small bag. You didn’t want to build up any suspicions, finding some money in your room and whenever you could take a few coins or so from your father that he would not miss.

Extra clothes were folded and put away separately.

And you make your escape on a rainy evening, the uneven droplets helping hide your tracks. But you knew now that your father had brought back Hector and Isaac, new generals to help fight in his war, you had to be weary of the night creatures that would no doubt be sent after you.

Well, you were creative. At times flying in a transformed look, no one would suspect a bat in the dark of night afterall. And it was easier to. find good vantage points that way. But to also avoid any people, you didn’t quite trust yourself to not get into an altercation with a bigot.

You rarely slept longer than necessary, especially not when those dreams were memories or nightmares.

Now that you had learned how to walk, you were a right menace. It was an uphill battle in itself to keep you in one place. You were curious and the world you knew (being your father’s vast castle) was huge. Your childlike curiosity was never let down by your adventures.

You laugh quietly, which sounds like small squeaks as you fly up and hide above the gaudy chandeliers. Your father, giant coat gone, hair tied back and in a plain dress shirt and slacks as he searched for a curious toddler.

Snickers continuing as he paces down the hall. You hop down, landing slowly and feet planting into the ground, knees bent. Before you had down the opposite direction.

The lab usually wasn’t a place you could be allowed in on your own. But having heard that your mother was there, you knew it wouldn’t be a problem! So your little legs carried you along. Until you found the familiar doorway.

Dozens of tubes and mechanisms had you turning your head as you wandered in, your shoes tapping against the marble floor.

“Now what brings you here, sweetling?” The warmth of your mother’s voice has you smiling before you see her. As you run forward and hug her side, clutching her dress in your small fists. “Not causing trouble for your father are you?”

You shake your head grin betraying your word, “Nope! I’m not doing any trouble!”

“And how since when did that happen?” She laughs gently.

“Now.”

Your brother looks up from his own books, waving before returning to work. Your nose crinkles, so much for playing experimenting. But before you can say much, your nearly yelp as you’re brought up into the air by a pair of strong arms.

“I’ve found you, little wanderer.” Your father’s voice carries no heat behind it. Then again, he was always soft hearted for you and your brother. But most of all, your mother.

“I’m not little!” You pout, “I’m big now!”

-

You’re taken away from your reverie at the snap of a twig.

With your lack of sleep, as you had insisted on traveling more, you were less than surprised to have been snuck up on.

“Peace, my friend,” The old man murmurs. You keep your knife in an iron grip in front of you. Who you’re guessing is his son or grandson, has his hands raised the same way, but no weapon to be seen, magic, oh good. Then again, not like you needed a knife when you could make your nails go into claws and the fangs. Don’t forget the fangs.

“I can’t exactly be peaceful when it’s the middle of the night and suddenly figures in blue robes appear out of now where,” You answer dryly. But seeing as how the others behind the main two have not done or said anything noteworthy, nor were their stances make them look like they could really fight, you lower your weapon slightly.

Clearing your throat, “Although, I shouldn’t be swinging my own weapon around either.”

The old man just smiles gently. And you can’t help but be just slightly comforted.

In the end, the speakers stop for the evening. And the Elder, despite looking like a frail old man, is firm in his decision that you stay and “eat properly.” And like a scolded child, you listen. Food and drink all but pushed into your hands as you’re quickly brought into conversation, the previous confrontation all but forgotten.

And then you perk up when he mentions Gresit.

“So... the sleeping soldier,” You begin, slowly chewing on the sweet bread you had been given. “It was true?”

The Elder nods, “My grandchild and a traveller, they had gone to explore it. Well, the traveller had gone to save my grandchild. I will not hide the fact that I was a bit doubtful. But Belmont had proved himself a man of his word. Although, he does need to drink more water.”

You blink, a look of a surprise clear on your face. Belmont...

Fuck. 

“Although I hadn’t expected the legend of the sleeping soldier to be realized so quickly.” 

At your inquisitive look, the Elder begins to explain. Of a holy warrior beneath Gresit, who would come to save it’s people in their most dire of hours. 

“The pair had come up with a man with long hair, like gold.” You couldn’t help but let out the breath you had been holding. So the Belmont didn’t try to kill him. you could breathe a little easier at that fact. 

“Where are they now?” You ask, holding the empty cup in your hands, as you stare down as though waiting for something.

Getting your answer, you stand, adjusting your bag over your shoulders. You wave off the concern in staying, if it had already been several days since the Speakers had left Gresit, then you needed to cover a lot of land to get to your brother. 

That is, until you saw the expression on the Elder’s face grow stern, as though he was scolding a child. With a heavier bag, one that the Elder insisted that you take some more things you could eat along the way, in exchange you give the Elder a small trinket you had been using to hide from the monsters of your father’s army, you finally set off. While your worries were not completely settled, your shoulders felt lighter. Metaphorically of course.

Of course, giving away the object that kept you hidden made it a bit more, difficult, when it came to trying to hide and travel at night. Much less even try to stop and rest. 

It had barely been two days since you had left the speakers, and already, you had run into some trouble, a beastly creature’s claws barely caught on your sleeve, leaving your arm bare as you shuddered from the chill in the air. You can only sigh mournfully, you really liked that coat. But, better your sleeve than say, you actually getting wounded. 

Your nails resemble claws, while your free hand holds the dagger in a steady grip. But being surrounded on all sides, it did not look promising.

Well, you thought mournfully, if you died you could at least see your mother again.

Until you hear the sound of what reminds you of a whistle? And then a sword flying through the air, slicing through the night creatures, giving you a chance to get some distance.

You hear the surprised shout of your name, and look up, to see your brother wide eyed, sword now returned to him, and a man and woman standing at his side.

“Um... hi.”

-

Much to your relief, the night creatures are easily taken care of.

And as you’re finally able to explain your story, you find yourself relaxing into the extra cloak given to you by the Elder.

“You mean you met the Speakers on your journey?!” A woman, petite with short blonde locks, who you learn is named Sypha, asks, and you notice the way her shoulders sag in relief.

You nod, “Yes. They all were safe.” If her shoulders sagged anymore she’d full on be slouching. You leave out the part of leaving a possibly precious trinket with them, not wanting her to think you cursed them or something.

“So you mean to tell me, Dracula, fucking Dracula, had more than one kid? That he actually had a woman not only give him not just one, but two children?” Is incredulously asked next by the scruffy looking man. Trevor, as your brother says.

You only stare in annoyance, sure your father was about to raise an army to annihilate the human populace but he didn’t used to be that way.

Before you can retort with a scathing remark of your own, Sypha elbows him harshly in the side. And you know it hurts from the way he immediately puts a hand where she hit him, eyes widening slightly. Serves him right.

“And what of...” Adrian- no Alucard as he wishes to be called, asks, near hesitant.

“Father?” You ask, arms crossed, “Same old same old. Planning the same amount of destruction here or there.”

As he looks to the snow covered earth, you roll your eyes, “Did you expect anything different?”

It’s quiet, and neither Sypha nor Trevor speak.

“No.”

You all sat around camp quietly for a while after that.

-

Your lungs feel like they’re being constricted. Your throat burns as you struggle to breathe, claws digging into your skin like knives. Before you’re thrown backwards, landing harshly against the wall. Books fall from the book case and your weapon clatters noisily from the ground. 

You take shallow breaths, barely standing before you’re thrown once more. Curse your father’s stature and supernatural strength. You close your eyes, waiting for another attack and at least hoping to brace yourself for it, but it never came.

Instead, your brother stands in front of you, as he and your father remain in a standstill. Sypha and Trevor’s footsteps are rushing towards you three. 

It all continues to move so fast, until he stops noticing the painting of your mother, as she had been holding your brother and then you as a baby, and the next thing you know, your father is staked through the heart. And with wobbly legs, you take your sword, and swing. So falls Dracula. But it felt like no victory. 

You sit up with an alarmed look, stopping yourself from shouting.

That was... a dream? You rub your eyes, feeling that your cheeks are wet and you sigh. 

When you see a shadow looming over you, the light of the fire giving slight visibility, you freeze. Before noticing it’s your brother and not his companions. 

“Sorry,” You say, making sure to not look at him, so that he didn’t see your tears. 

Quietly, he places his coat over your shoulders, sitting beside you, wrapping his own blanket loosely around his own shoulders. “You have nothing to apologize for.” 

You only grip the jacket lapels tighter, shaking slightly as you hiccup, unable to stop yourself from crying again. 

He must think it’s because you miss your mother, and you do. But this dream was far different. And you say nothing as he brings you into his arms. Your tears having long since dried when the sun rises moments later. But you find yourself falling asleep as your brother rubs soothing circles on your back, feeling the build up exhaustion finally leaving you. 

When you’re awake much later in the day you can’t help but laugh a little when Sypha scolds your brother for being mean enough to make you cry, he didn’t you assure her quick enough, although you’re back to laughing when she then turns around to scold Belmont when he makes another slight comment. 

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

feels like we're dreaming, we're tripping and reeling

summary: requested: andy barber being obsessed with the thought of reader being pregnant and wanting nothing more than to be a dad. being the most doting, caring man throughout the whole pregnancy, rubbing reader's feet and going out to get all her cravings and rubbing her stomach constantly. crying when he feels the baby kick. painting the whole nursery himself and spoiling the hell out of their little bundle when it arrives. andy barber being domestic and soft as hell in general gets me so weak.

warnings: some smut. pool smut. not the same pool bc that was a public pool but it needed to happen so. andy being cute, as cute as i’m sure he was when his wife was pregnant. (my proof: that smile every time someone asks him if he’s jacob’s dad)

word count: almost 10,000. honestly, i was going to keep going but jesus 10,000?!

pairing: andy barber x reader

How many brands of pregnancy tests existed in this world?

Honestly, beyond 5, what the fuck was the point? They measured the same shit, did they not? You didn’t care enough to find out, but during the period of painful silence, you thought about googling the answer.

You were in the tub, wrapped up in one of Andy’s hoodies, just watching him. He was at the counter, looking at the timer. He’d gone out to pick up the tests for what you guys had decided would be your new routine.

You’d always had sex a lot, but lately, Andy didn’t want to go a night without. Not because he was under the impression that would be a more effective method, he just literally could not keep his hands off you anymore. He asked you that morning if you wanted to make Friday night the test night. It made sense, he had his weekends off and that meant he could skulk around the house if it didn’t happen.

Most tests took 2 to 3 minutes. Some took 15 for whatever fucking reason. He wanted to wait for all of them, so for a quarter of an hour, you were just stuck there. Waiting. With him. Which shouldn’t have been so stressful, but it was.

The day you told him you wanted to try for a baby, he didn’t let you out of bed. Even though he knew it wasn’t going to happen for a while since you needed to finish your last week and a half of birth control. He had just been so happy, any attempts made to hide his obsession with you getting pregnant were tossed out the window immediately.

He’d thought about it before you, he’d wanted it before you, but hearing that you finally wanted it too just triggered something. He bought parenting books because he figured during your pregnancy, he wouldn’t have that much time to read. He bought this huge ass book of names and after he fucked you, he liked to bring it out and try to talk you into names he wanted while you were in such a blissful state.

Every second of trying had made you fall in love with him more. Yes, you wanted kids, but honestly, babies didn’t much appeal to you. You understood that to get to kids, you had to deal with the babies and you were okay with that, but mainly, you wanted to make Andy a father. You knew he would be good at it, possibly the best in the world.

And even with all the wanting, he never put pressure on you. The morning you told him you were done with the birth control, he sat you down and had the longest talk with you just to make sure that he hadn’t done anything to make you think he was losing patience with you. He wanted a baby, but he needed a happy wife. He didn’t want any part of something that you weren’t completely on board with.

But with wanting to try, you needed to make some changes. You were always fairly active since Andy had his busy days and you didn’t like just sitting and doing nothing while you waited for him to get home. With trying to conceive, your workouts had to be a little more basic. Longer, but less intense runs, some yoga. Andy had read that cardio was important, you thought up swimming. The very next day, he was already making plans to expand the house and add an indoor swimming pool. When you gave him a look, he pointed out that the kids would love it when they were old enough to swim. How could you possibly say no?

Caffeine was next on the chopping block. Andy, the sweetheart that he was, knew how much you loved coffee and tried his hardest to cut it out as well. He wanted to show you that you weren’t in this alone. It was your body, yes, but he would make sacrifices, too. The first time you caught him falling asleep at the dinner table, you had to tell him to end his noble support. With a job like his, he needed his coffee. The compromise was that he wouldn’t drink it in your presence.

He also did insane amounts of research. Even after you stopped the pill, he insisted on using condoms for a month after so you could start getting some folic acid before ending up pregnant. That was quite the sacrifice. One of your favorite things on this planet was when he finished inside you. Not a fucking condom. But you were trying this thing where you didn’t express negativity because with Andy as your husband, there was no way not to feel like a brat. How was someone so perfect?

Your period hadn’t returned yet but that didn’t mean you were incapable of getting pregnant. Hence the random, shot-in-the-dark pregnancy test Friday plan. You didn’t feel pregnant and you knew that was stupid. Some didn’t know they were pregnant until they were giving birth. And you’d never been pregnant before, so how would you know what to look for? You just couldn’t stop thinking about how you didn’t feel it. You also didn’t want to tell Andy because you hoped you were wrong.

It had been a week short of two months without the pill and three weeks since he stopped wearing condoms. The chances of it just falling into place were slim—you didn’t have research to back that up, just some deeply-rooted cynicism. Maybe it was your defense mechanism, act like you saw it coming and you wouldn’t be disappointed. Right?

Wrong, which you discovered when you saw Andy’s face after he turned over one of the tests. You wouldn’t cry because it had been a total of 5 seconds and some people had to try much longer, and you didn’t want him to have to put aside his feelings to then console you. You did, however, want to cry.

“We should see a doctor,” you said.

He scoffed. “We haven’t really been trying that long.”

“But we can, why not?”

He finally turned to you, forcing his expression into something that didn’t break your heart just to see. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not. Andy, I told you that I’m ready.”

“I know, and trust me, there’s nothing that I want more. I just also think there’s still some romance in being old fashioned and just letting it happen.”

“Google is your new best friend, Andy. Why not consult an actual professional?”

“We can, if you want, but like I said, it hasn’t been that long. Besides, until you start your period again, it’s probably just a waiting game. Not always, but it can be. We should be realistic about this. I don’t want to waste a visit down to the doctor just so they can tell us what my new best friend already has.”

“Okay,” you shrugged, “if that’s what you want—”

“None of that. What do you want?”

“I want to be the mother of your children.”

He sighed, crouching down to your side. “You will be.”

“You don’t know that—”

“No, I do,” he insisted. “Because I’m not going to stop fucking you. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll go see a doctor. If there’s a problem, we will fix it. If we can’t, we will adopt. Are we clear? There is no way, Mrs. Barber, that you will not be the mother of my children one day. And because I damn well know that I deserve it, I will have the great honor of being the father of your children.”

You sighed and melted, but you hoped that much wasn’t apparent. “You’re so lame.”

He smirked. “Wanna get out of that tub so we can have sex?”

“Why can’t we have sex in the tub?”

“Do you want to?”

“Maybe, but no water.”

“Okay, that’s weird.”

You shrugged. “Fine, I’ll get out of the tub.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He went to stand up but you caught his arm before he could. He took one look at you and was already shaking his head. “Don’t even say it—”

“I am, though.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Ever.”

“I feel bad.”

“You shouldn’t. It could be me. It could be nothing. Baby, it is too soon to start worrying about anything. Avoid stress, that is what you need to be doing.”

He could say it a million different ways, you were still sorry.

It was troubling how excited you were to get your period back. Honestly, when the birth control had finally taken it away, you cried. Tears of joy. To have the same reaction over getting it back felt weird.

Andy also seemed excited until you outlined just how inconvenient the whole thing was. Okay, that was being negative, but you were kind of in a bad mood. Something he was not at all bothered by. Because of course. He hadn’t been bothered by a single thing since you told him you wanted to start trying.

Officially, four months into wanting a baby and the only thing keeping you holding on was your beautiful, loving husband. He always knew when you were feeling down, so he would talk about the future and how nice it would be when you could finally take the kids out on family trips. How great taking them to school would be. All the fun things you would get them into, dance, sports, anything that you both could go and support. You were completely lost on how he was so positive all the time.

You needed to keep going, though. Like he said, you guys had options. It was better to know sooner rather than later, so you pushed forward. Sadly, your periods were irregular so you would probably ovulate irregularly. And you weren’t even aware of when you were ovulating because Andy still wanted this to be “natural”.

The second Friday with negative results was clearly taxing on both of you. He decided to end it immediately. That was why you had taken to sneaking pregnancy tests any chance you got. You didn’t like not telling him but you always felt like a failure every time it came back negative. But life went on, that much he made sure of.

The pool was finished and he seemed to like it more than you did. In fact, your liking it extended only as far as getting to see him wet and shirtless. But you were still in there 4 to 5 times a week for 30 minutes after you got home from work on weekdays and early on weekends. Because you did everything you were supposed to do. Because you didn’t want to feel like this was your fault, like there was something you were doing that would prevent this.

He came in one Saturday morning just as you were getting out. “Done?”

“Yeah, I served my time,” you joked. “I should get started on lunch. Any requests?”

“No, whatever sounds good to you.”

You went inside, fully intending to make lunch. But something that just didn’t make sense was how much you craved sex with Andy. It seemed like the more you had, the more you wanted. You guys were always sexual. At the start, after a month or so, every date ended with sex. When you moved in with him, it was more nights than not, even after you got married. But this was every day, numerous times a day.

He was turned on by the idea of getting you pregnant. He was insatiable for that reason. Sex this often wasn’t normal and it probably wasn’t raising your chances of conceiving since you weren’t being too methodical about it, but you were thrilled with this change. You worried about how much sex you would have once you were pregnant anyway, you figured you should start preparing for the long months ahead.

You were only in the kitchen for three minutes, trying to find food that would interest you more than what was currently on your mind. It didn’t work.

You returned to Andy. He was swimming his laps, completely oblivious. You stripped out of your bathing suit where you stood at the edge of the pool. He only made it three more times back and forth before he must have sensed you there.

He turned up, brushing his wet hair out of his face. When he saw you naked, his eyes widened. “Here? Now?”

“Well, unless you want me to wait for you to finish. I could just sit and watch, take care of myself until you can.”

“Here,” he decided. “Now.”

You smirked, sauntering off to the right where the stairs were. He made his way to you just before you descended the last step. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you took your cue to jump up and wrap yourself around him.

He carried you further into the water, lips moving against yours. You clung to his shoulders and your legs locked around his hips. “You are wild and demanding,” he accused.

You scoffed. “Me?”

He pretended to think about it. “Well, I guess it was me who stopped dinner last night, me who couldn’t wait until we left the grocery store, me who had you pull over while we were driving a few days ago, and me who came in here naked—oh, wait—“

You laughed. “Well, I’m just trying to prepare myself for when we’re hardly doing this anymore.”

“When we retire?”

You snorted. “No. You know, when I’m pregnant.”

He scoffed, pressing you against the side of the pool. You felt a hand moving between you, working his shorts out of the way. “You think I’m not going to fuck you when you’re pregnant?”

“Well...I assumed, yeah.”

He nudged your chin with his nose until you tilted your head back, offering him your neck. He kissed you softly as he indelicately pushed into you.

You clutched at his shoulders harder, whining his name.

“You’re insane if you think I’m going to be able to refrain from touching you. Especially while you’re pregnant.”

You angled your head so you could see his face. He looked downright amused at what you were saying.

The pace and pressure of his hips immediately became punishing. He held you tight, hands on your hips as he fucked you. “You don’t even know how hard I get thinking about you carrying my child.”

Maybe it was what he was saying, maybe it was that you had wanted him inside you since you woke up, but it wasn’t taking long to get you there. You brought one hand up to the edge of the pool for a little more support.

Andy began kissing your neck and nipping at your chest. “I think about how beautiful you’re going to look, I think about how I’m going to have you riding me every day.”

You could picture that. Fuck. You were rarely on top now because you loved being underneath him and he loved pinning you down to the mattress, but when you got bigger, you would have to adapt. It didn’t sound as boring as you’d had yourself convinced it was when he said it.

“Every morning before I go to work, I’ll wake you up with my mouth between your legs.”

You let out a shaky breath. “What’s stopping you from doing that now?”

“You,” he promised. “I can barely open my eyes before you’re telling me to get inside you. You’ll be slower when you’re pregnant, less of a predator, more of a prey.”

You scoffed but it became a moan. If he kept talking like this, you were going to come soon.

“Some women are more sensitive when they’re pregnant,” he asserted. “I bet you will be. You’re already so sensitive. I’m going to spend every weekend fucking you until you’re begging me to stop.”

“Andy.” You turned your head toward him and he kissed you. You whimpered when you felt his hand at your cunt, fingers pressing against your clit so gently.

You finished first but he was close behind, turning his head down to groan into your shoulder.

He rode out his high slowly, kissing any part of your skin that was in his reach. He lifted you out of the water, onto the tiled floor surrounding the pool. He kissed both of your knees, then your calves, all while keeping his eyes on you. “Sound like a plan?”

You smiled, rolling your eyes. “Really, I should make lunch.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You headed out, back to the kitchen.

“You’re not getting dressed?”

“Nope.”

Four months, one week, and six days later, you were pregnant. You’d felt weird, it was 3 in the morning, Andy was asleep, and you knew you weren’t going to be able to rest until you found out.

Technically, you hadn’t missed your period yet. Sometimes you started on the 17th, others the 22nd through the 24th. Oh, but there was also the wonderful time you had started on the 5th. That time, you did cry. He might have too, but never in front of you because he was trying to be the most positive man on earth.

You only took two tests, the ones with the least amount of wait time. The results came back positive and for a moment, you just sat there. You had been terrified that it wasn’t going to happen. You worried about how much that would hurt Andy. You also stupidly worried about the possibility that he would leave you over it.

But that didn’t matter anymore. You were pregnant and he was going to be thrilled. After being a little annoyed that you took the test without him, you assumed.

You weren’t sure how to tell him. When to tell him. It was 3 in the morning and he had to work. Maybe after he got home. If you told him when he woke up, he was just going to want to stay home.

Logically, you knew false positives were not the same as false negatives. But it was just like when you were in junior high and you didn’t get your period so you were convinced you were pregnant even though you were very much not having sex. Yes, you were paranoid but you just wanted to be sure. The only thing worse than not getting pregnant would be getting Andy’s hopes up.

You waited until he was at work and then made an appointment. This would also annoy him because he wanted to do extensive research when selecting a doctor. You weren’t robbing him of that, you just wanted to have confirmation. The second you did, you would tell him and start looking at doctors.

You had it scheduled four days out, Thursday. You could get in on your lunch hour. It was odd going and explaining to the nurse your thought process and why you couldn’t schedule a follow-up appointment after the confirmation. She must have thought you were an idiot, you possibly were, but you were a happy idiot.

That night, when Andy arrived home, you were waiting on the couch for him. Once again, unclothed. You’d gotten quite used to being nude, having him undress you every time either of you wanted sex was just ridiculous. There wasn’t a word said as he laid over you on the couch, not bothering to get undressed. He just moved his pants and then he was inside you.

He didn’t move at first, instead, he rubbed your clit until you finished around him.

You draped a leg over his ass. “Andy, fuck me.”

“Not yet, baby.” His fingers circled over your clit again, his eyes fixed on yours and wanting to see pleasure on your face. He was in a mood and that meant the sex was going to be exhausting. Worth it, but very unlike the easy and quick routines you’d gotten used to in all of the chaos of trying to get pregnant.

When he would join you in the shower because usually, you woke up earlier than him even though you went to work later, he would wrap his arms around you all sweet then shove you against the wall and make you come with him. When he would find you making dinner and fuck you over the counter. When you were up later than he wanted so he would just fuck you wherever you were until you were so exhausted that he had to carry you upstairs. No other married people had as much sex as you guys, you were almost certain.

You’d made a complete mess of his pants but he didn’t seem concerned about them. He sat up and set you on his lap, holding you in place as he thrust his hips up. There was always something amazing about sex with him still in his suit. It wasn’t like his clothing left much to the imagination anyway, you could see and feel the muscles in his arms and chest.

He continued fucking you until he was close, then he settled you flat against him and used his fingers to make you come again and again. Until he was sure he had come down enough from his almost-finish. Feeling your pussy move around him, the way you would tighten when you orgasmed, the way you continued to get wetter and wetter, he was addicted.

You grabbed his free hand and placed it on one of your breasts and he closed his mouth around the opposite. Again, he held you up so he had enough room to drive his cock into you, hard and deep, and so painfully slow. It must not have been the best day. He loved being in absolute control of you when he couldn’t be at work.

Once more, just as he was about to finish, and you could tell because his hands would tighten and his hips would start to stutter, he sat you on his lap.

You curled your hand under his jaw, pulling him from your breast up to your mouth. The kiss was sloppy, all tongue and desperate moans from both of you.

��Touch yourself, baby,” he directed as he pulled away.

Your fingers instantly dropped to your clit and you began drawing yourself toward another end. He wouldn’t let you stop, not after the first, the second, the third. Your hand was shaking, you were shaking, he had to hold you by the shoulders otherwise you would have fallen back. The entire time, he remained buried in your cunt, hard and not doing a damn thing about it. He was using you to edge himself and that made you impossibly wet.

He repeated this, more times than you could count. He didn’t say a word either, just led your hand down to your clit or used his own when he knew you couldn’t. Sometimes the sex was like this, he was working through something and he didn’t want to talk at first. It was about proving to himself that he had enviable control, and he definitely did because it wasn’t like you made it easy for him.

When he laid you down on the coffee table, he began pounding into you. You could tell when he was almost there because he was getting louder, grunting into your skin, or groaning as he bit down on your shoulder, your breast, your neck.

He pulled out before then and you felt inclined to put a stop to this madness.

“Andy.”

His hand made its way back to your pussy as he stroked his cock with his opposite. Moments later, he was spilling out onto your skin. As he continued fucking you with his fingers, you ran your hands over your stomach, spreading his cum along your body until you reached your breasts. You loved having his cum on you and he loved seeing it on you.

After your orgasm, he sat back on the couch as he worked to catch his breath. “Sorry, that was kind of a waste.”

“Not really.” You continued teasing him with your hands on your breasts and these small mewls that you knew he was already getting worked up over again.

He probably didn’t even realize what you’d said, too focused on watching you pinch and pull on your nipples.

You turned down a few minutes later, meeting his eye.

He kept his eyes on your hands as he spoke. “Wanna get in the shower while I make dinner?”

You moved off the table, legs shaky as you made your way to him. You caught his hand before he could sit you on his lap and sat down on the couch at his side. Leaning over, you took him in your mouth.

“Jesus,” he hissed.

After swallowing as much of him as you could, you set one of his hands on the back of your head. He knew what you wanted.

Holding you in place, he began rolling his hips. It wasn’t too forceful but you could feel him in the back of your throat. He was hard again in a matter of a few moments.

“God, your mouth is fucking perfect, baby.” He was losing his steady pace, his hips jerkier, slower sometimes. “All I could think about today was you. Your beautiful cunt, your fucking mouth. I’ve wanted to see you covered in my cum for so long, but...” he didn’t finish his sentence, you knew why he hadn’t.

You weren’t satisfied until you’d swallowed every drop of him. As you pulled off, he grabbed your hips and brought you onto one of his thighs. He kissed your forehead and began running his fingers through your hair.

“How was work?”

He shrugged. “You know.”

“Rough day?”

“It usually is,” he attempted to dismiss.

“Sounds like you could use good news.”

He arched an eyebrow. “You have good news?”

“Well, I’m pregnant.”

He blinked slowly, then abruptly sat up straight as his hands dropped to your hips. “What?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, okay,” he blurted out. He moved you onto the couch, standing and tucking himself back into his pants. “Do you want to take a test?”

“I already took the test.”

“Without me?” he demanded. “How many?”

“I took two, but I went to the doctor to get it confirmed.”

“Without me?!” he repeated.

“Don’t be mad, I just wanted to make sure.”

“I am mad.” But then he leaned down and started kissing you so you figured he was going to get over it fairly quickly. He pulled away, both hands coming up to your face. “I can’t believe you. How long have you known?”

“I took the test 4 days ago. Went to the doctor today.”

“4 days?!”

“Andy, I didn’t want to get you excited if I wasn’t actually pregnant.”

“Well, can you take another test so I can see it? We have a billion upstairs.”

You scoffed. “Do you want me to? I will.”

“Yeah, kind of. I know it’s stupid—“

You shook your head. “It’s not, I can do it.”

He got on his knees on the floor, gently pressing you back to the couch. “I knew it would happen, I just didn’t think it was going to happen this soon.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re still okay? You still want this?”

“Of course.”

He leaned forward, kissing your throat all the way down to your stomach. You shivered at the sensation of his beard prickling against your skin. He continued kissing you and you ran your fingers through his hair.

He turned up to you, lips still pressed just below your navel. “It’ll be a girl.”

You scoffed. “Andy, you don’t know that.”

“I do,” he insisted.

“You never said you wanted a girl.”

“I want any baby you can give me.”

“Even if it was a demon baby that turned out to be a cannibal?”

“As long as it had your smile, yes.”

You snorted. “And your eyelashes!”

“And your cheekbones.”

You ran your finger along the bridge of his nose. “Your nose.”

“Is it red like all the other demon babies?”

“You’re in too good of a mood.”

“Impossible, no mood is too good considering you’re carrying my daughter.”

“Stop,” you scolded half-heartedly. “Look, you have a total of at least 15 weeks before you find out whether it’s a boy or a girl.”

“You have 15 weeks.”

“Andrew Barber,” you scoffed, “stop.”

“Let’s bet.”

“No!” You laughed.

“Scared?”

“Don’t even try that with me.”

He shrugged. “You sound scared. I never knew that the woman who gave me a hand job in a movie theatre would be such a baby—“

“Andy, if you don’t stop talking, all of this pregnant sex you’ve been fantasizing about is not going to happen.”

With a small smile, he shut his mouth.

“Upstairs? You want me to take the test?”

He scooped you up off the couch and headed toward your bedroom.

The next day, Andy was already working on all those grand promises he’d made. You woke with your calves draped over his shoulders, his lips wrapped around your clit, his hands folded over your hips to hold you down, and his beautiful blue eyes looking up at you.

Then he wanted to go shopping. He’d already called into work, not even bothering to lie about being sick. He was thrilled to let Lynn know that you were pregnant and apparently, she knew how big of a deal that was so she let him off the hook after making him promise to take pictures of what he was intending to do to the nursery.

He wanted to paint. You had wanted to leave it white. Gendered colors were stupid anyway. He’d said the same at the start, but he was currently waving pink swatches in your face.

“Andy, what if it’s a boy?”

He shrugged. “Then he’s going to have a pink nursery. Pink sky or pink pearl?”

You spared the colors a glance. “Pink pearl. Why can’t we just do one of those gender-neutral colors?”

“Because yellow is ugly and purple is loud.”

“Green.”

“Reminds me of spring.”

“Orange.”

“Pumpkins.”

“Red.”

“Blood.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, why not dark blue? I was kind of hoping we could do, like, a constellation theme.”

He thought for a moment. “Let’s do both. But instead of blue, we’ll use pink.”

“Okay,” and you were excited again. “You are insane, though. Just so you know.”

“Hardly. Do you know how behind I am? I wasn’t expecting this to happen so soon. I haven’t found the doctor yet, I’m just barely starting on the nursery. We don’t have a name, we don’t have a crib. Essentially, we have nothing.”

Was he seriously already stressing about this? And that probably wasn’t even a fourth of what was going through his mind.

You reached over, finger tapping on the only pink color you’d seen that you liked enough to put on the walls. “We have a paint color. If you like it.”

He glanced between you and the color twice before nodding. “Okay.”

Walking through the aisles, you decided to take over. You threw all the tools he could possibly need in the cart and didn’t stop until you spotted the glitter. You stared straight at it until he got curious enough about what you were so focused on that he made his way to you. Adding glitter to paint was difficult, you knew because you had attempted before. Your friend’s sister’s kid was turning 7 and wanted to redesign her bedroom and you tagged along because glitter. It ended in tears and Andy buying you ice cream to make you feel better.

He sighed. “You want the glitter?”

“I simply cannot live without it.”

With another sigh, a much more resigned one, he started tossing in bags of the glitter additive. “You know you’re not helping, right?”

“What? Because of last time—?“

“No, because you’re pregnant.”

“Andy, it’s not even a baby yet. It’s a fetus. Can’t I just do what I would have always done up until the point that I can’t get an abortion?”

“That is not funny.”

You snorted. “It kind of is. Stop worrying.” You rolled onto your toes and kissed the tip of his nose. “Otherwise, you’re going to look like a grandfather instead of a father. And hey, I’d still be pretty attracted to you but we have more kids to make, so calm down.”

He banned you from the house. Yep, you had a total of one friend who was currently married and interested in children. That was the friend he wanted you to focus on, not the others, he said, that they meant well, but couldn’t possibly be supportive at a time like this. In reality, he never liked most of your friends. You kept them out of college and he always thought they liked to go out and drink too much.

Your friend was excited when you asked if you could stay with her for a bit. Andy wanted to paint immediately and then make sure all lingering traces of the paint were adequately gone from the house before you returned.

Painting took two days. He called you both mornings, brought you lunch at work, took you out to dinner, and made sure to call you before you went to bed.

Then he checked you both into a hotel for 3 days. You had to force him to go to work on Monday, pointing out that he really needed to be making money. You loved your job but it wasn’t as if the salary was sufficient to raise a baby on.

Andy let you revel in the beauty of the nursery up until the weekend. The constellations were a soft champagne color and the glitter was mixed in perfectly, evenly. It looked professionally done, but you weren’t surprised. He was perfect and everything he did for you and his child would be perfect as well.

Next, his mission was to find a crib and pick the doctor. Something that kept him on his laptop most of Saturday while you slept soundly next to him. You were already beginning to feel tired and you weren’t sure if that was because of him or your baby.

Time went by in a blur. He’d fallen into a routine effortlessly. He would wake you up as he told you he would, eating you out, then he would get you in the shower with him, and make sure you ate a good breakfast before he headed off to work. He would call at lunch, just to make sure you weren’t too exhausted to be at work. You always felt inclined to tell him stories about working pregnant women every time. He would come home and fix dinner and wouldn’t let you lift a finger to help. At night, after he thoroughly fucked you, which honestly didn’t take much, you would fall asleep together. It was a great first two months.

At the start of your 3rd month, you were already showing. It seemed like it was the best day of Andy’s life. In fact, he wanted to start a scrapbook. He wanted to document everything and you didn’t have the heart to tell him he was absolutely crazy. Besides, it was pretty cute.

It was around this time that you had the most absurd craving for almond butter. He loved almond butter so it was always in the house and you never once wanted any part of it. Randomly, you thought apples and almond butter sounded great and you finished the entire jar before he got home. Something that amused him greatly, he promised he would get more on his way home the next day. That new obsession lasted for a week and a half, and you had yourself convinced that it was going to be the worst of it.

No. Swap out apples for Cheetos. Seriously, you wanted to eat Cheetos and almond butter. You were downright ashamed so you didn’t even ask him to get you anything, you just snuck out to the store before he got home one night and bought yourself a sufficient stash that you kept hidden in the very back of the pantry. This wouldn’t work for the entire pregnancy but until you were further along, you intended to hide these horrible cravings.

Well, as well as you could. He was anticipating more after the almond butter so he always texted and asked if you wanted him to bring something home. So far, your genius combinations had been tacos and chocolate, macaroni and cheese and sour patch kids, cashews and Doritos, French fries and hot chocolate, and orange chicken and lemonade. Andy drove everywhere at any given hour. If there was a store open, he would go. If it was closed and you couldn’t wait that long, he would go to a 24-hour fast food place. He’d started stocking your favorites as well, and hiding them until you really needed them.

The day before you were set to find out the sex of the baby, he went shopping. You were far too tired to try to leave the house, especially since Andy could shop. You thought he would come home with more for the nursery. Since he’d found the crib, he’d started looking at bedding and the other matching furniture. You knew it would be extreme since you weren’t there to stop him. What you did not expect was that he would sneak in and take full advantage of your unconsciousness. If he hadn’t dropped something, you never would have caught him.

When you found him in the nursery, he was in the closet. Hanging up clothing. Pink clothing. For a girl. “Andy.”

“We are having a girl,” he stated simply.

“Oh, my god,” you muttered to yourself.

“Sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t be, I’m glad I’m witnessing this insanity.”

He gave you a flat look, fully turning to you with a tiny black bodysuit with white hearts printed on it. “This could be for a boy, I don’t know what you’re so upset about it.”

You smirked. “Anything can be for a boy if you try hard enough. Look, if you wanted a girl so bad—“

“I wanted a baby.”

“Andy, you bought girl clothes!”

“Because we are having a girl.”

“You’re going to have this child alone if it doesn’t stop making me crave the most ridiculous things.”

He hummed. “Is that why you’re up here?” Smirking, he made his way to you. As usual, his hands went straight to your stomach, he had to feel any movement and it was driving him crazy that he hadn’t. “What do you want?”

You scoffed tiredly. “A lot of things. Yogurt, peach and blueberry. Something lemon, lemon squares, lemon cake. A lot of pasta, I really want spaghetti. And despite your incorrigible behavior, I want you.”

“You do mean sexually, right? Because I read sometimes pregnant women want to eat things that aren’t food—“

You placed your hand flat over his mouth. “I take it back, I just want the food.” You turned away to escape from the room but he was right on your tail. “Andy, I’m hungry.”

“I’ll get you the food,” he promised. “Let’s just make a quick stop to the bedroom first.”

You didn’t put up much resistance as he began leading you that way. He had been correct about one thing, you were so sensitive. You’d given up on wearing bras or underwear, and your clothes had to be loose. Especially given the dreams you were having. Much to his simultaneous joy and dismay, you would send him pictures and videos of certain sexual situations at least twice a week just a couple of hours before he got home.

That cocky bastard was correct. A fact that had him beaming the remainder of the appointment, all the way home, and even in his sleep. You weren’t upset that you were having a girl. It wasn’t that you thought you had a right to be picky, but very simply, you wanted a girl more than you wanted a boy. You weren’t even sure why. Gender wasn’t real and it wouldn’t upset you if someday in the future that little girl told you that she wasn’t a girl at all. Logically, you knew there was no point. But you didn’t have to be logical, not while you were carrying a baby.

Even though Andy was annoyingly smug about the whole thing, you were excited. You finally got to take a look at the closet and discovered yesterday was not his first time buying clothing. You wanted to be mad at him but he had the softest look on his face. This was everything he wanted and you liked that you were able to provide it for him.

At 5 months, he absolutely needed to feel her kick. If he wasn’t fucking you or feeding you, or shopping, or at work, his hands were on your stomach. One of his favorite things, when you got out of the shower, was covering you in lotion, something you were supposed to do to prevent stretch marks, not that either of you much cared. During that time, he would speak to her, try to get her to give him any kind of movement. Or sometimes, you would wake up and he was just level with your stomach, whispering things to her.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you’d felt what you presumed were “flutters” and maybe one good kick a couple of nights ago, but you weren’t certain. You sort of enjoyed that she didn’t just give in to his murmurings of “come on, baby, give daddy a kick”, or “if you kick, I’ll never tell you no”. That line was dropped from rotation after you pointed out you would be holding him to that when she wanted to start dating.

She seemed to like his voice, you could admit. Sometimes it wasn’t him that woke you up, it was her responding to him. They weren’t fast movements, they weren’t particularly forceful either, but they were there. You didn’t understand how he’d yet to feel anything. And since you were still telling him you hadn’t really felt anything, he brought it up at the next appointment. The look of pure horror on his face when the doctor told him the likelihood of fathers never feeling any movement was sad, in a funny way. Kind of. Being pregnant had made you a little meaner.

He was pouting about it all night but you told him you were sure he would feel something. You told him you wouldn’t have her until she kicked for him. He knew you couldn’t control that, obviously, but it made him feel better.

At 5 months and 2 weeks, it happened. You were failing at staying awake and trying to read a book when you felt an abrupt tap. You startled awake, discovering the book on the floor. That had to be it, you just dropped it on yourself. But then it happened again, a bit harder and a tad painful.

“Andy!”

He bolted to your side in a matter of seconds. Seriously, he had to have broken world records with that trick. “What? What’s wrong?”

You grabbed his hands, pulling his arms over the back of the couch, and placed them over your stomach.

“Are you okay? Do we need to go—?”

“Shut up,” you ordered.

After a couple of minutes, he sighed. “You felt an actual kick?”

“Sorry, she tends to move more when I’m so still.”

He moved around the couch and sat on the floor. “It’s going to happen. I’m not going to feel her.”

“No,” you argued. “Are you working?”

“No, just scaring myself with more books.”

You held your hand out to him and he helped you up. You crouched down to pick up your dropped book and handed it off to him. “Read it, she seems to like your voice... I’ll fall asleep, see if that works.”

You were settled in bed next to Andy, his one hand pressed to the side of your belly as he read the book aloud. You were trying to keep still but also trying to stay awake, you wanted to see his face when he felt it. That was out of the question, Andy’s voice was like honey, or a fall morning, or the feeling of being home after a long day. You were out after a few paragraphs.

When you woke up, you weren’t sure why. You saw Andy hovering over you fully with wet eyes and the softest smile you had ever seen. “Baby?”

“I felt her.”

You scoffed. “I told you that you would.”

He kissed all over your stomach, lingering each time. “Maybe she finally knows I’m her daddy.”

“She always knew.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Truth?” He glanced up at you and you explained, “I’ve been feeling her for a while now. That’s why I knew she liked your voice... I have some bad news, Andy. It seems like she already knows you’re wrapped around her finger and she is going to enjoy making you jump through hoops.”

“Just like her mom.”

You smirked. “Guess so.” You reached out to touch his face. “What are you thinking?”

He shrugged. “Every morning, I wake up and I’m so sure that my life couldn’t get any better but every day, it does. I didn’t know it was possible to love as much as I love you and as much as I love her.”

You turned to mush instantly.

“I didn’t have this growing up, you know. I didn’t have a dad but I’m going to do it right. I’m not going to be like him. I don’t understand how he could just walk away from his child, I would never do that. I could never do that. Or from you, my beautiful wife. For a long time, while we were trying, I just hated him so much. More than usual. I hated that we had to try so hard and that he was given a family that he just tossed away.”

“Well, he was an idiot. You are truly the best man I will ever know, possibly the best man that there is. And you’re going to be the best father, too... Okay, maybe second best after Ryan Reynolds, but still pretty high up there.”

He scoffed.

Feeling her kick was another addition to his day. Lips and fingers brought you to orgasm before taking you to the shower where he carefully wrapped his arms around your shoulders and fucked you from behind. He would dry you off, lay you out on the bed, and cover you in lotion and pay a lot of attention to your feet. His hands all over your body never failed to make you want him, but he had to go to work. You both knew if you started, he was going to end up being late. After breakfast, he would say goodbye to you, then he would lean down and ask his little girl for any kind of movement. She’d began to indulge him at least twice a day, when he was leaving and when he would say goodnight.

He’d always let you sleep in on Saturdays and even stayed with you for a great deal of it. Mostly because he knew you could sense when he wasn’t in bed and that would wake you. But with time, you were becoming less tired. Not entirely, you still were out like the dead at 9 every night, but sometimes you woke up actually feeling rested.

Saturdays were what he intended them to be. This particular Saturday had him wrapped around you, hands flat to your stomach, chin atop your head. You had another fantastic dream, one where you weren’t pregnant.

You loved your baby and you loved that you were able to carry her but you missed how hard he fucked you sometimes. You just couldn’t wait until he could pull your hair, choke you, spank you, tie you up, all of the things he loved to do to you. More importantly, you couldn’t wait until he was on top of you, pinning you down and leaving bruises.

Those dreams were why you woke up wet more often than not. Why you never hesitated to take his hand and slide it lower but you didn’t need that today, you just needed him. For you, he’d adapted to sleeping without clothes. It was easier that way and he’d never complain about you doing the same. Besides, the heat was getting the best of you the bigger you got.

You reached back with your heel, tapping his shin several times. “Andy?”

He hummed.

“It’s Saturday. Wake up.”

He scoffed, eyes still closed. “Yeah, it’s Saturday. Sleep in.”

“Fuck me,” you whined.

“I wish I could say that wasn’t enough to get me hard.”

“You were already hard,” you assured. You could feel him against your hip.

He grabbed your thigh and draped it over him. “You know, my love, when you’re not carrying our baby, I am going to have a lot of fun making you wait for it. I am indulging you now simply because you are giving me the greatest gift anyone could. But when I can tie you up, when I can fuck you, that is what I’m looking forward to.”

You moaned as he unhurriedly slipped inside you. “I miss your hands around my neck, that’s what I’m looking forward to.”

“So, I suspect you’ll continue being a brat long past your due date.”

“Yes, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” you taunted.

“Not right now, just you wait. You’ve been bad ever since you told me you were pregnant. Laying on the couch, naked. I know you had been touching yourself. I’ve been keeping track and your ass is probably going to be getting spanked up until you’re pregnant again.”

You snorted, turning your head back slightly. “Oh, and is that going to be immediately after?”

He kissed along your jaw. “Up to you.”

“You want another girl?”

“Yeah,” he admitted somewhat sheepishly.

You scoffed.

“But I wouldn’t be let down by a boy,” he promised. He started delicately rolling his hips, one hand coming to your center to rub your clit.

Watching you fall apart like this was something else. Andy found you utterly beautiful, your cheeks would flush, your eyes would fill with such desperation for him that made him feel wanted. The moans that spilled from your mouth were sometimes animalistic, inspired only by how much you needed him to give you what only he could.

Now that you were pregnant, he could cover you in his cum. He always loved doing that, an interesting discovery he’d made very early in your relationship. After you decided you wanted to try for a baby, he would often come inside you and tell you to leave it there, which was pleasing as well. But this. This was simplistic, classic beauty.

He pulled out, fingers filling you instead. Your hips moved frantically, seeking the pressure of his palm against your clit. Angling your head back, his lips hungrily met yours. You reached down and took him in your hand, he turned his head slightly to hiss a curse.

Once he looked at you again, you pretended all you wanted was an innocent kiss. Something you kept up until he was just about to come, and then you bit down hard on his bottom lip. He had no idea how to retaliate and seeing the frustration play out on his face was almost as satisfying as your finish.

You laid next to him patiently as he came down, anticipating his reaction. It was always funnier when he had time to dwell on the situation. For several more weeks, you had complete permission to be as bratty as you wanted. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t been taking advantage of that more.

He turned his head to you and you smirked. “That’s going on top of the list. You will regret that.”

“The look on your face was so worth it.”

“Teasing is also going on the list,” he warned.

The day your water broke was just a normal day. Of course, not your due date. No, this baby had been torturing you since the very start, why stop now? You expected it was just something in the Barber blood. Strong-willed, complicated, and the tendency to be a complete pain in the ass.

Regardless, your husband was at work. If everything went well for him today, there was one last case that he was going to tie up, and then he was yours and hers until he was ready to go back. You figured that wouldn’t be for a long while and that was exciting.

You would think that this would have been too much by now. You guys didn’t really have your friends, or regular company that you kept. No one had been in your home, save for Lynn who you insisted he invite over so she could see the nursery in person.

She’d also given you a gift and you wanted to receive it from her in person. You knew there was a special friendship she had with Andy. A woman in a position of power, you figured she didn’t have time for many. And Andy wasn’t a typical friend, a low-maintenance guy who was kind and smart. They just went together well, and you wanted to encourage him to let her in at least a little.

He answered your call on the first ring because he’d been glued to his phone for these past three months every time that he had to leave the house. “Hey, everything okay?”

“Are you busy?” you worked to keep your voice level. No need to rile him up before he could get home.

“No, not really. I just stepped out of a meeting with Lynn. We were talking about the last case she thought of giving me. She’s wondering if three days is—”

“She should give it to someone else.” You had taken to rubbing your stomach, mentally pleading with your baby. Please, baby, just wait for your daddy. I’ll never hear the end of this if he doesn’t see it.

“Are you okay?”

“Well, I’m fine…but my water broke—”

“What?!” he yelled. You distantly heard him yelling then, “Lynn, I gotta go! My baby is on the way and she was a bit of a jerk at the start, wouldn’t kick for me. I think she’s missing all those times she killed my soul and I’m terrified she’s going to show up before I make it.”

You could only imagine the look on Lynn’s face. Or the look on his face. A cross between terrified and thrilled, he probably looked like a serial killer.

“Can you wait for me to get home?”

“Did you just call our daughter a jerk?”

He huffed. “Baby.”

“I think so. I haven’t started having any contra—nope! No, there it is.”

He talked you to through breathing until it subsided. “Okay, listen, this is very important. I’m across town right now and there’s going to be some traffic at this hour—”

“Please don’t drive crazy.”

“I won’t, I promise. But first, I need you to get the timer…where are you?”

“On the couch.”

“Great, get the timer under the table.”

“There isn’t a timer under the table.”

“There is, I taped it there.”

“For what?” you pressed.

“This, obviously.”

“But why would you tape it?”

“There are about twenty timers all over the house, hidden so you couldn’t find them and move then.”

With a deep sigh, you leaned forward slowly to search under the top of the table for the timer. Yup, he was being serious.

“Okay, just keep track of them. And now, the second thing, I need you to promise me something. The neighbors, if you need them to drive you, they will.”

“What?”

“I’ve been creating these backup plans ever since you told me you were pregnant.”

“Oh, come on,” you complained. “I thought you were being nice to them because you liked them.”

“I mean, it’s not as if anyone in our neighborhood would ever say no to taking you. I just had to make sure that they were good drivers.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You had hoped that having a child was making him see the importance of social ties. These people lived by you, they were all having kids, most of them would probably end up in the same school.

“Honey?”

“I thought you wanted them to be our married friends. She just had her baby 8 months ago—”

He snorted. “Yeah, in addition to that other one.”

“Are you talking about Charles?”

“I know he’s 5, but he’s evil—”

“Andy!”

“Baby, listen. I’m getting in the car now. If you need to get to the hospital before I make it there, go left first. If they are not home, then go to the right. Left then right. Left first, right is the second resort.”

“You dragged the Johnsons into this, too?”

“Dragged ‘em all in, baby. Gotta go, stay calm and don’t move unless you need to. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You hung up and laid back against the couch. It felt like all there was to do was wait for your next contraction, something you did not enjoy the first time. They were just going to get worse, you needed your husband here.

You heard Andy pull up a little over half an hour later. He charged into the house like a maniac, showing up at your side, hands immediately going to your stomach. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve had a couple of contractions,” you reported. “They don’t last long and they’re pretty far apart.”

“Okay, let’s go.” He helped you off the couch, bringing the timer along with him. He let you control the pace to the car. You’d gotten bigger than you thought you would and walking three steps was nearly a minute-long ordeal.

Halfway there, you noticed the bag over his shoulder. “Don’t you have a bag in the car?”

“I packed the car bags sometime last week. Who knows what state of mind I was in? I can’t trust my competence.”

“Are you implying that there has been a moment during these 40 weeks that you haven’t been out of your mind?”

“I’m going to pay for this neighbors bit, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” you promised.

Labor wasn’t a long process. Painless as many women had told you it was? Fuck no. It hurt, a lot. But Andy was there and he was all you needed. He talked you through the breathing, he never stopped touching you, your arms, your face, your stomach. He liked to make plans when neither of those things worked. He reminded you about all the great things you guys would get to do with children, and it was enough to get you through it.

You thought you knew what love looked like, because you loved Andy so much. But when he saw your baby for the first time after she’d been set in his arms, he looked at her in such an intense, breath-taking way.

Any uncertainty you might have been playing with in your mind was gone in that second. You’d gotten a bit paranoid over time. Wondering if you guys were just going to have the same marriage as everyone else. Like, you started in love and ended with affairs and really hurtful words. But you knew then that this was not a normal family. This was true, unconditional love.

[reineyday]

some feelings abt touya and bnha 302 in general! (long post)

jesus this whooooole chapter makes me so so so sad for touya, like he's canonically a crier and i just have all these images now of him crying off to the side while enji looks at his other kids and gives them the time of day. knowing that he was/is a frustrated crier makes the fact that dabi cant cry cuz of his burned tear ducts that much sadder ohhman

one of the things i cant get over is how touya was SO shunned by his dad that when he went to go tell enji about his fire turning from red to blue, he says "i might be as awesome as shouto sooner or later!" like?? this boy is 13 and shouto is 5 yet he's talking like the brother that's eight years younger than him is better than him and thar it's just a fact. the sky is blue, enji wants to beat all might one day, and shouto is better than the rest of his siblings. nevermind that he's only five and just wants to play with his siblings (and dont even mention to me how shouto says he wants to play with "touya and them" cuz im gonna fucking cry abt it. like even though touya's accepted he's bottom of the ladder in this family, shouto clearly wants some sort of acknowledgement from his older siblings and especially his older brother. IM FVCKN SOBBN). enji has made it clear in this family that shouto was what he was looking for and everyone else is not as important, and i knew this from shouto's pov but it's kinda wild to see it implied so casually in touya's words.

"you'll be glad you created me! i just know it!" HOLY SHIT. god my heart. oh my fuck. literally all enji had to do was show up to the fucking mountain, and he couldnt even do that? what the hell?? your son asks you to go to the mountain, you tell your wife not to let him go traim but she said she couldnt stop him, and instead of going yourself to make sure he's okay and BECAUSE HE ASKED YOU TO COME (and with an actually valid reason, no less! fire changing colour is kind of a big fucking deal!!!) you just?? let him go and let him stay there??? my god the amount of times touya must have burned himself and the trees with tears in his eyes. ahhhHHH!!!

what kills me (and touya too soon?) was that we thought before the back story started that enji forced touya to train till he burned up. then when 290 came out--and definitely after 301--we thought maybe touya overtrained himself and burned up. and sure, he was definitely overtraining, but to find out that the burns that "killed" him started just bc he was crying so much he lost control and didnt know how to ease up on his flames? he was upset and literally trying to get himself to stop crying, and then he just set himself aflame and burned up cuz of all his emotions??? that HURTS. holy fuck.

i cant believe natsuo's feeling lowkey guilty for not socking enji in the face like he wasnt EIGHT???? and let's be real, enji woukdnt have fucking listened to natsuo telling him to talk to touya--he already wasnt listening when touya would straight up say "look at me" and when even rei said touya just wanted enji to look at him and notice him. listen, i know sometimes miscommunications happen in families and children are embarrassed to admit they want attention and so their parents remain unaware that theyre not giving their kid something they want, but touya was as clear as can be on MANY occasions, and even rei agreed touya needed the attention and enji just wasnt listening.

also i know there was discourse abt touya being sexist by telling natsu that "the women in this house are good for nothing" and mb it was partly diff translations cuz i feel like saying "this house" makes it specific to rei and yumi instead of all women everywhere, but even disregarding that--i think it's a valid thought for him to have when rei wasnt standing up for him (where he could see, at least) and yumi admitted herself that she was too scared to interfere and so just tried to fix things and keep appearances. i feel like based on what touya's seen from them, it makes sense that he has that opinion. (also gonna mention that i think rei's and yumi's choices also make sense and i think they were valid, seeing as how they were afraid as well.)

and poor natsu being woken up in the middle of the night (what was implied to be often enough, esp cuz it seemed they share a room and their futons are close) bc of touya's pain. that's a lot of emotional responsibility for an eight year old, and it is also so sad that at 13, touya didnt have anyone else to turn to but his kid brother. at 13, i remember being fully aware of the distinction in maturity between an 8 year old and myself, and it sucks that touya couldnt go to anyone but a younger child with all his pain. i bet yumi being too scared to interfere translated to touya as "she wouldnt help me" and thats another reason he didnt go to the 2nd oldest when he needed to vent. (also not related to this but how the FUCK was natsuo so tall at 8 years old? wh a t)

this chapter. this fucking chapter. my heart aches for touya, and it's just such a huge fucking shame he didnt get the attention and validation and support he needed. there must have been workarounds so that touya could safely use his quirk. there weere DEFINITELY better ways to support your son through a self-destructive quirk, ways that involved actually being there and seeing him. i feel like if someone showed him the attention he needed and talked him through how to better control his emotions (and by extension, his flames) and a positive and healthy way, he could have been someone so great. and if he ever learned how to set aside the way he felt infefior to shouto and saw that shouto just wanted to play with his cool older siblings, it might have been really beneficial to see that there was someone there who thinks he's cool and gave him attention just bc he was an older brother, who needed him when everyone else in the househild didnt seem to need him.

and lastly, the fact that the chapter ends with rei saying that shouto is the family hero and that shouto will have to face dabi?? and it makes me angry that shouto has to take on that responsibility. that he was five and suffering for things he wasnt even a part of, couldnt be properly aware of, bc he was so young. he just saw that he was separated from his siblings and that his dad bullied his mom, then grew up shouldering enji's heavy goals and high expectations and abusive training alongside the barely-there memories of his older brother who died (i say barely there bc if natsu didnt even know shouto liked cold soba, shouto was definitely not around enough to have solid memories of touya before he "died"), and now he has to do the emotional labour of fighting his villain brother (who i bet shouto lowkey empathizes with when he thinks abt it late at night) as well as suffer the physical consequences of that agni kai. and it makes me angry that he has to do that, bc he's a Good Guy and he probably feels he has some sort of filial and familial responsibility. he's only 16. he just wanted to play with touya and them, and now he has to deal with this horse shit dabi's causing cuz his dad's an emotionally neglecting asshat who couldnt see past his dumb fucking ego until he saw shouto play with a bunch of kids during shou's remedial exam a decade after his eldest son burned himself to death. what the fuckety fuck.

lastly, since we saw touya burn uo the way he did... did he really just like... burn so much his jaw fell off, and that's how they found the jawbone? cuz holy hot (BURNING too soon???) damn that must have been painful as all hell. i wonder if next chapter we get to see if someone found touya at the park and helped him out and sorted out the jaw bone thing, or if we finally get to see if deku wakes up lol.

anyways this chapter hurt my heart big time, and i kinda wanna draw kid touya crying while being overlooked by his family to let out some of those feelings but we'll see.

and i still stand by my idealistic and naively optimistic hope that dabi gets redeemed and they soend some actually time together as a family (without enji. or at least, with an enji that has apologized to touya in seiza. like, forehead-to-floor apologize.)

does this hope sort out how dabi redeems himself, seeing as how he's murdered people in cold blood and shouldnt be excused for that bc those actions are also inarguably terrible? no. not sure how he could redeem himself for that kinda stuff honestly, but it doesnt mean i dont still somehow want the todoroki sibs to get along, cuz im weak for mending families.

also id like to send a huge kudos out into the world to rei todoroki for being firm for once and for also not running away from her mistakes like her asshole husband has been. i really admire and respect that. she was afraid and being abused, but now that she's been away from enji and has had time to heal, now that her and shouto are in the mend and she's seen that her eldest son is alive and a villain, she's a place where she can acknowledge that even though she was a victim too, she played a part in touya's emotional neglect and she's taking responsibility and that speaks to some incredible fucking strength. damn.

i hope one day that dabi realizes the same in regards to his mother and natsuo, who shouldered a lot of his emotional pain and suffered the consequences of his outbursts (even though his emotions are valid and his outbursts understandable, he still hurt rei and put a lot of pressure on natsu), and i also hope he sees that for all that he hates his father, his whole existence revolves around enji and it's a shitty place to be (and then he'll have ANGST abt it and that shit will be!! so good!!!)

yeah i think those were all my feelings. i had so many lol. their family situation is so difficult, i hope they all turn out okay and alive and healing.

oh i guess i also wanted to say that i kept calling enji an asshat and asshole cuz he was for sure, but i still think his redemption is valid and im glad he's taking those steps to be a better person by being a better father. i dont know if id want his family to forgive him for all that horrible shit he put them through (im personally hoping that no matter what anyone else does, natsuo will choose to to cooperate in the healing of his family as a unit but will never forgive enji) but i think it's good of people to try to be better than they were yesterday regardless of whether or not they get forgiveness. i dont personally like enji, but i dont hate that he's getting a redemption. i just hope it's a redemption that makes sense and forces him to put in the work, and isnt something like a death sacrifice for shouto or dabi. i want him to be alive and i want his redemption process to hurt like a fucking bitch while he forces himself to make better choices and be a better person, cuz redemption isnt supposed to be easy in the slightest. i GUESS all the crying he did in 302 was a good start.

anyways, if for some reason you read all the way down to the bottom--hello! and thanks for reading haha. cheers! :)))

[dastardlydandelion]

Max Mayfield and Tory Nichols in a horror film, what would be the plot/monster and would they survive?

this is it. this is the tumblr ask. the ask i've been waiting for my whole life. my time to shine, here we go!

filming begins under the cut:

tried and true creature feature, this is a werewolf movie. let's go with a werewolf between the van helsing (2004) and trick r treat (2007) variety. the beast once transformed is fucking huge, clearly both lupine and human, head almost entirely wolf, body primarily bipedal in shape, but robust, sinew shredding claws and big ass bone tearing teeth. also tails!! bc tails are cute!!! powers include monstrous strength, accelerated speed, healing factor. weaknesses silver and decapitation.

okay, so van helsing (2004) werewolves are mindless rage monsters and trick r treat (2007) werewolves are cognizant. for our max & tory creature feature, they're gonna of the in between variety. i chose a werewolf movie for these two specifically bc they both have their anger problems and the werewolf has long been a symbol of anger unleashed in the horror genre, even tho common gray wolves are just like. i mean, yk, animals, they hunt and howl and pee on trees and most of the time would rather avoid humans. but obvi horror genre werewolves are not common gray wolves, they need to be scary, and like, the remnants of traditional folklore influenced by rabies and discourse in the middle ages...wait, where was i going with this? anger, yes, max and tory both have anger problems and i think this works for what i'm gonna do with this theoretical movie.

who's the werewolf in town? terry fucking silver. bc terry is evil and dramatic and also, i think it's rly funny for a werewolf to have silver as a surname. he's fully cognizant in his transformation and he's purposefully biting kids and teenagers bc he wants more talented karate students. and like. yk, with the enhanced strength, speed, and regenerative recovery of lycanthropy, well. there u have it, more talented karate students.

do max and tory know each other, if so, how? okay, so in this 'verse tory is a lil older than max. that reflects their canon ages, i think. let's say max is 13 and tory is 16. billy has tory in some of his classes and he more or less makes a deal to spilt his allowance with her if she'll babysit max bc he's tired of neil riding his ass to babysit max. tory needs money so she's like, 'sure, why not.' max finds it rly stupid that she's 13 and neil thinks she needs a fucking babysitter but as far as babysitters go, tory is fun. she likes to show max what she's learning in cobra kai and they spar together a lot. max would actually like to join cobra kai but 1) neil would throw a fit on various fronts and 2) lucas is in miyagi-do. max knows there's some rly intense beef between cobra kai and miyagi-do. ofc tory's filled her in on the karate war, how could she not?

well one day tory takes max to the playground to watch a plane fly like she does with miggy in ck, and it's nighttime, ofc, and lo, the full moon is out. shining up in the sky. they hear a howl. they both look at each other. max is kinda curious but tory's like nah, nah, we gotta go. she grabs her, starts pulling her along. but the next howl is a lot closer and they can hear smth running and it just sounds fuckin big. they're running too now, legs pumping hard, but there's no escape once the beast is right behind them, hot, rancid breath blasting the backs of their necks and harvest gold eyes glowing in the dark.

max gets bitten first. tory tries to kick the big ass beast off of her and then it rounds and bites her too. the terror is real now. and then shockingly, as fast as it'd come, it leaves. neither girl has an explanation for wtaf just happened but tory takes max home. billy gripes at her for being out late but helps her patch up. when susan learns what happens she decides to take max to get rabies shots right away. loads her up in the car, runs her off to the emergency room-- but when the bandages come off, they are no wounds.

tory's bby bro tries to help patch her up too. but he's like 4 yrs old and his idea of "help" is sticking bandaids with cartoon characters up and down the wounds in haphazard fashion. tory plans to redo it all properly once she's put him to bed. sure enough after he's asleep, and she peels the bandaids off from every open mouthed pac-man to every green teenage mutant ninja turtle, the wounds are gone.

meanwhile there's missing ppl err day on the news. terry turns kids and teens but kills adults for the lulz.

tory and max know what happened to them was an event that tangibly, definitely happened but neither have any explanation for their wounds just disappearing. max, our resident horror fan, is the first to propose a real life werewolf as an explanation. she cites the missing ppl on the news. tory thinks she's tripping balls but reluctantly gives an inch when she acknowledges no, she can't think of any other explanation.

life goes on. max tells lucas what happened only she leaves out the part abt tory bc she's not gonna tell a miyagi-do student she's kickin it w the enemy. he doesn't rly believe her, like how she didn't rly believe him about the upside-down in their canon. he thinks the horror movies are rotting her brain.

tory almost tells her dojo but she gets distracted being pissed off by sam and that should be her priority, right? sensei kreese is always going on abt getting back at the enemy. she spends her shifts daydreaming abt revenge bc it's more comforting than worrying abt past due bills and her mother looking paler by the day.

full moon next month comes around. neither tory nor max are cognizant of or during their first respective transformations. max's first kill is neil. she's seven feet of fur and fury, tears his ribcage open with claws like daggers and sinks her teeth into his putrid, maggoty heart. susan isn't home. billy is, but he doesn't hear any of the fracas. he's unconscious on the living room floor, crisscrossing impressions of neil's belt buckle blaring red on his back.

tory's first kill is sam. sam larusso wants to think she's a bully?? fine, tory will show her a bully. she hops the miyagi-do fence after hours. she just wants a fight. just a fight, they always fight. but then she's sprouting fur and tory as tory gives way to smth else. she'd not aware of being a person when she doesn't have fur. not really, all she knows is rage and ravenousness and the morsel below her has bunny rabbit wide eyes.

neither of them remember what they did the next day. not vividly, anyway. it's there but it's cloudy and hard to discern, like a groggy fever dream more than a memory. but max burps up neil's wedding band and tory finds señor octopus (sam's stuffed animal) bloodied in her bed. it's apparent what happened. max accepts this more easily than tory bc 1) she always kind of suspected she'd turn, since she sincerely considered what attacked them was a werewolf and 2) max isn't terribly upset abt killing neil while tory is acutely horrified she killed sam.

max kinda had some smidgen of attachment to neil bc like, he's the only father figure in her life and here and there they've had their moments. but his abuse (psychological/physical toward billy, sexual/financial/psychological/emotional toward susan, psychological/emotional toward herself) outweighed any and all of those moments. she is genuinely concerned that she tore a human being to pieces and only vaguely remembers it but like, if she had to kill anyone, she figures neil was the best to kill. max is mostly concerned bc she can't kill neil a second time. she's worried the next time she turns it could be an innocent person, or one of her friends, or her mom, or billy.

tory is blindsided and scarcely able to comprehend the reality, holy shit, max was right, she's a fuckin werewolf. and she's sick to her stomach bc she hated sam but she never wanted to do anything like that. she didn't want to kill, she just wanted to break her face. scare her. rough her up. she didn't want to eat her. she just killed someone. she's a literal horror movie monster and she just killed sam. what's miguel going to think?

tory and max talk. they decide they need to find the werewolf who turned them. we get montages of them going over the news articles with a fine-toothed *ba dum tss* comb and searching areas where it seems like a werewolf would be. the woods. some caves. max all of a sudden has a freakishly tall man constantly hounding her to join cobra kai. neil's gone but she still hesitates bc of lucas being in miyagi-do. also he believes max now and with the proff, she's decided to let the rest of the party in as well. they also exist in this 'verse. she showed them the crime scene and the wedding band she burped up. billy isn't a roid rage racist in this 'verse bc that would be a giant buzzkill. he doesn't believe the werewolf shit either. he thinks max saw neil get attacked by some animal and that the carnage was so traumatizing for her, she subconsciously created a werewolf fantasy to cope.

tory meanwhile spirals downward. bc she passes sam's memorialized locker in the hall everyday. her memorial table in the other hall, full of sticky note condolences and mournful teddy bears, and a picture of sam right in the center always, always accusing her. miggy is heartbroken and distraught. hawk didn't care for sam but even he's freaked out by what happened, how the news said there were only torn up chunks and bones picked clean found in her bedroom. tory is terrified of herself. she's desperate to find whoever did this bc she wants to make them pay. if sensei silver has been asking her extra questions lately and presenting her performance to the class more than normal, she doesn't notice at all. aisha notices tory's fucked up but tory can't exactly tell aisha that she *ate* sam. aisha is also mourning, she and sam used to be bffs. so she doesn't say a word.

max has a theory that if u can learn to control ur anger, u can learn to control urself when u shift. she is, after all, v familiar with angry horror movie werewolves. and she's savvy enough to know it's smth she and tory have in common. neil is dead but that doesn't mean max isn't angry anymore. she's still angry at the damage already done and tbh also angry that there's some werewolf around turning ppl willy nilly bc she recognizes the danger in that and it wasn't smth she consented to. but controlling ur anger is an easier feat for max than tory insofar that max has a support system w her friends, and better relationships with the remainder of her fam. tory has two mentors actively, adamantly teaching her and her friends to be ruthless, view the world as ur enemy, use violence as ur go-to solution, and that mercy is weakness not to be tolerated.

when the next full moon rolls around, they decide to spend it together under the correct inference that they will transform. they think it's better to be together. they're hoping they'll be able to control each other, if not themselves. or that if they are both mindless rage monsters again, that rage will be turned on each other. this would be a better outcome operating on the presumption that one werewolf will be able to take what another can dish out, at the v least more so than a regular human being.

max is successfully able to maintain enough of her consciousness to control her actions once transformed. she feels aggressive and hungry, but not enraged and ravenous. she can keep it in check. tory, on the other hand, uh...tory can't do it. she throws her wolf head back in the most bloodcurdling howl ever and takes off like a bat outta hell. max goes loping after her. they can't speak like human speak in this form, but max tries to communicate with her. whimpers plaintively. tackles tory at one point, not out of anger but just tryna subdue her, licks at her ears and tries to get her to settle. tory bucks her off.

tory runs off again, max in pursuit. they wind up at the skate park where billy n robby are prolly up to some fuckery or another. i could easily see pre miyagi-do robby n billy getting up to all kinds of mischief. ooh, actually, they're prolly arguing abt that. now that robby's in miyagi-do he has another outlet for all his energy and he's getting the positive attention he craves so he's not participating in hooligan activity or shenanigans w billy anymore and billy is like. offended. except suddenly there's werewolves. fucking. snarling, gigantic, toothy, hairy ass werewolves.

let's say robby kicked miguel down two stories in this 'verse too and tory recognizes him in her werewolf form even if she isn't exactly cognizant of herself. she tears straight for him, jaws open. billy doesn't exactly *mean* to protect him but it's kinda an automatic reaction from putting himself in between whenever he thought neil was getting too aggressive w susan or max. and like, sure, robby's the better fighter (not that billy would ever acknowledge this) but it's not like he's gonna karate kick the motherfuckin werewolf anyway-- billy is bigger, he's bigger and it's instinct and the next thing he knows, he's in between robby and the thing w sharp teeth (tory).

and that's when max gets serious. she bowls tory over, away from billy before she can bite. they're rolling, tearing at each other with teeth and claws. lo and behold, terry silver is lurking in the background like the evil mastermind he is, just watching them shred each other and evaluating his experiment. it's a p close match and tory is the more aggressive of the two but she's also been going, going, going since she shifted and she's burning herself out. she's also fighting with the blind instinct of a threatened animal while max maintains more precision bc she has better control of herself. max also isn't wasting energy unnecessarily. max gets her jaws around tory's throat and tory just goes slack. but she can think and she doesn't want to hurt tory, so she opens her mouth and relaxes her maw, teeth grazing harmlessly thru tory's fur.

tory's being shown mercy. possibly for the first time. it's so unlike her conception of others' ruthlessness, so unlike the worldview that's been instilled into her that it startles her enough to crack thru to her cognizance. she does the wolfy deference thing where they tuck their tails and lick at the dominant pack member's muzzle. max responds in kind and lets tory up.

this is when they notice terry lurking (billy's already worked out the werewolf that came to his defense is max so he's just dumbfounded watching all this shit, and robby's not abt to leave someone who just saved his ass, so he's stuck unsuccessfully tryna pull billy away and inevitably watching too). terry calmly slinks over, sizing up his charges. he's pleased with the performance. but tory and max are anything but, another werewolf fight ensues.

so while they all get huge after transforming sheerly on the basis of being werewolves, i'm gonna guess the size is proportionate to their human forms. so tory is a little larger than max and terry significantly outsizes them both. terry is also the more experienced werewolf. it's two against one but it's not the curbstop it would be if this was some weaksauce werewolf, it's dramatic evil karate werewolf terry fuckin silver. terry's shredding tf outta these two. their healing factor can't keep up, he's dishing out faster than either of them can recover and tbh they were already winded from fighting each other first.

but it'd be a major buzzkill if our movie had a downer ending. and also, the power of determination and friendship and shit. terry's got his jaws around max's throat now. he's a millisecond away from tearing it open. tory's pinned under him but she thinks fast, frees a hind leg, and rips her claws down his soft underbelly as deep as she can and doesn't stop ripping, like pedal kicking almost for a human, but with her hind claws. his intestines shoot out like paper snakes from a gag candy can!! okay, well, maybe they don't shoot out w that much gusto, but still. the bowels are free, the bowels are hanging low and tory's tearing 'em tf up, fluids n fecal matter errywhere. on tory. i'm sorry tory. ur under him, that's just how gravity works.

terry dies. healing factor can't keep up with the damage done, it's too critical. but nobody knows it's terry until the dawn breaks and he reverts back to his human shape.

max is v much 'i told u so,' in billy's face. robby promises not to tell. he doesn't want to get mauled or killed or anything. tory's able to cope better with what she did to sam knowing that it won't happen again, that she won't hurt anyone else she doesn't want to be she can control herself now. tory believes in mercy now bc max spared her, she trashes kreese's philosophy and joins eagle fang when johnny and daniel join forces in this 'verse too. max also joins eagle fang, takes her place in the front row right between tory and lucas at her v first practice.

credits roll.

after the credits we see tory considering turning her mother in the hopes that having the healing factor would help her mom's condition improve.

is that a teaser for the sequel?

idfk.

[caitybug]

hi i have more hope this isnt annoying/// prompt! baz is the librarian for the local library n simon is the kid who always returns his books late

Definitely NOT annoying!! Thank you so much :D. 

I’ll put it under the keep reading :). 

(Also if anyone else wants to send a prompt... like go for it. I won’t complain. The more ridiculous the better tbh.)

(Also Meri I hope you were looking for a response that is 1500 words bc that’s what you’re getting kthnx.)

(Might fuck around later and post it to ao3 idk.)

It’s only a summer job, but it’s a job that frustrates the hell out of me at times. 

Especially people who cannot follow simple instructions. Return books to the drop off box, don’t shout, don’t run, and please do not participate in sexual activities in between the rows of books. 

I say the last one because I just walked into two teenagers groping each other in between the reference and biography shelves. 

Choose a better section at LEAST.

If I ever did I’d probably do it behind the romance section. It’s fitting for the mood, at the very back section, and no cameras can see you there. 

Not that I’ve thought about it.

I’m checking out a little kid and his mother when I see the worst person to ever walk into the library.

(The worst is probably dramatic. There is a guy who tries to bring in a water bottle that smells of whiskey and a bag of chips that gets crumbs all over the computer. But at least that guy leaves me alone... Simon Snow, however, can’t leave me be.)

Simon Snow can’t seem to pay his library fines. He turns in every book late. It’s ridiculous. There are certain rules in this world, and this can’t be that hard of one. He could just renew the book online even to buy himself some time.

But he never does.

He sneakily tries to drop his books off without me knowing, but he can’t ever get anything past me. 

“Snow,” I say, handing the woman her receipt and walking towards him.

He freezes and looks up, face scrunched in embarrassment. 

“Do you have money to pay your fines? I can only assume you’re turning these in late too,” I gesture to the books. 

“Uh, well,” he stammers. Snow always stammers. 

I cross my arms and raise an eyebrow, waiting for a proper answer. 

He starts digging in his pockets, pulling out a nickel, penny, a Dr. Pepper bottle cap, and some lint.

I grab the change and frown at the bottle cap.

“Why do you have-”

“There’s a code,” he shrugs, “I was hoping to win a prize.”

Of course, he would do something like that. 

“Please bring money next time you come in,” I say, moving to go check out another customer. 

He nods and walks out, leaving the Dr. Pepper bottle cap behind. 

I grab it and stash it in my pocket. 

After I check out the customer I decide to grab the books Snow was returning. What could he possibly be reading that takes him so long?

He has three books this time:

1. Fun Home

2. Heartstopper vol. 1

3. Bloom

I frown. 

They’re all graphic novels, so what is taking him so long?

Then I blush, realizing another trend they all have in common.

I shake my head and check his books back in.

I also erase his fines.

______

The next time Snow comes in it’s to check out some books. 

I can’t help but think of the books he turned in last time. I was also nosey and investigated the other books he had checked out the past couple of months. 

They’re all gay.

Is Simon Snow gay?

“Snow,” I say as he approaches. He has one book, the next volume of Heartstopper. “Do you have your money for your fines?”

He doesn’t have fines anymore, I erased them, but I can’t let him know that. 

“Uh,” he responds. 

He’s not good at using his words, but somehow watching him fluster about is incredibly adorable. 

Snow turns out his pockets and has a crumpled receipt, a french fry, and the cap to a pen.

I shake my head, God this boy is an idiot.

“Snow I’m going to have to stop letting you check out books if you can’t pay off your fines.” 

It’s an empty threat. His balance is zero.

He nods, however, and grabs his books and puts the receipt where I highlighted the due date into his pocket. 

When he goes to leave, I remember something.

“Wait, you left something last time you were here,” I open my drawer and pull out the Dr. Pepper cap. “Good luck winning, but I am sure you won’t.”

He smiles and grabs it.

“Thanks, Baz.”

I smile back. I didn’t know he knew my name.

_______

The next time I see him I’m shelving books. 

I don’t typically do this part of the job, but the page is out sick and we had a huge pile.

I also didn’t want to deal with all of the kids here for the magician. 

It’s in the LGBT section where I find him, staring at the books.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you so intensely in thought before,” I say.

Why am I such a jerk?

“Oh, uh, hey Baz.” He says. 

He looks like he is blushing. 

“Do you need help, Snow?”

He shakes his head and looks up at the top shelf. I look up, following his eye line, and see the third volume of heartstopper.

I step closer and reach up to grab it. 

I can’t help but smirk when I hand it to him. 

I’m at least three inches taller than him. Good to know.

“Thanks,” he mutters, before turning to leave.

Stop him, my brain says.

My body, however, doesn’t move.

______

The fourth time he comes into the library he is with a girl with brown frizzy hair and dimples on the back of her knees. She’s dragging him through the reference section, piling books into his arms.

It’s quite funny. I can see the whole scene perfectly from the front desk. 

They sit at a table and Snow and I make eye contact. He smiles, and I immediately look down.

It’s like looking into the sun when he smiles, blinding and overwhelming. Doctors should put a warning on him.

Don’t look directly at him, it’ll damage your eyes and you’ll be seeing stars for an hour.

We don’t talk, but we keep catching each other’s eyes. My face feels too warm and soft. 

I check his library account, and his book is already two days late.

Rolling my eyes, I renew the book and erase the fines.

If my boss found out about this I’d be murdered.

______

The next time I see him is at the back of the library, he is wandering around and I’m putting back books. A book club of middle-aged women came in, and with them, a stack of raunchy romance novels. 

“Oh, hey Baz,” Simon says, smiling up at me.

I swear my breath hitches.

“Snow,” I reply, reaching up to put a book on the top shelf.

It doesn’t go there, but I need him to know I can reach that high. Higher than he can. 

I’ll fix it when he leaves.

“So, uh, I won that Dr. Pepper prize.”

I look over and raise an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

“I got some money and thought I could pay my fines,” he continues.

I freeze. He doesn’t have any fines. 

“Well, Snow, you could go to the front desk and pay those off,” I say, grabbing another book and putting it on the top shelf.

Why am I putting all of these up so high? They don’t belong here.

“I did, actually,” he continues. I cringe. Fuck. “But they said I didn’t have any.”

“Well, they must have looked at the wrong spot because I can assure you there are fines.” There aren’t.

He steps closer to me, I drop my arm. He smells like popcorn and Old Spice.

Why does it smell good?

“Baz, did you forgive my fines?” He asks.

I scoff.

“Snow, why would I-”

“I think you did. The lady at the front, the one with the grey streak in her hair, said it looked like I had made payments these past few weeks.” I cringe, Fiona is going to kill me. “So, my only question is, why?”

I stare at him, not knowing how to respond. ‘Because I like you, Snow. I like the way your golden girls always look a mess. I like the stupid hoodie with a hole in the sleeve looks on you. You are covered in moles and I want to kiss every one of them.

I look at his lips, the thing I want to kiss the most. 

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“Baz,” he steps closer. “If I’m off base here feel free to tell me, but I-” he gulps, taking a moment. “I would like to take you out. Consider it repayment.” The way he smiles makes my heart skip.

I nod, not trusting my voice to respond. 

And then, fuck, he leans up and puts a hand on my neck, lips almost touching mine.

“Wait,” I manage to stay, pushing him back. His face drops, but I grab his hand and pull him around the corner.

The romance section, corner of the library, where there are no security cameras. If I’m ever going to kiss someone in the library, it’ll be here.

I push him against the stack and kiss him.

And, god, is it good.

[pinkykitten]

Forest pt. 1

 Castlevania 

Alucard Tepes x female! reader

Warning: cursing, violence, gore, mentions of blood

Specifics: chapter fic, romance, angst, fluff, not requested, action, adventure, race neutral reader, human reader

People: alucard tepes, monster thingy from the show

Words: 3,338

Summary: Since Alucard lives in the forest now in Dracula’s castle he meets the reader in the forest and in that moment he starts to have a liking towards her and is very bashful, blushy and romantic towards her and she is a goofball and is very silly and lighthearted. From the moment that they met all Alucard wants to do is protect the reader no matter what is takes. 

Authors Note: god alucard is so sexy and so beautiful like god dang! lol sorry im a bit of a horny nerd. anywho its rlly late where im at andddddd i cant go to sleep cuz i slept the whole day so ayyyee. anywho i was inspired idk where but i was inspired to write this bc i think alucard deserves love and someone who adores him like i do. i loved writing this tho and rlly want to write for castlevania more but this is going to be chapters idk how many yet lets just see where the wind takes us i hate planning anyways. IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS THO I AINT EVEN MAD ABOUT IT!!!!! LIKE YASSSSSSSSSS

“Alright so its been almost a month and I haven’t died. That must mean I’m doing something right.” You used a piece of wood you made into a cane to help you get up the steep hills. You were voyaging alone in the forest. You had a family that were settled more outside the town that you lived near. You were a large family and your siblings came down with a sickness. You were determined to find a cure and determined to find medicine for them. As scary as it may have seemed you needed to put on a brave face for the dangers that lay out ahead. You knew those monsters walked around and as much as that terrified you, your siblings came first. At a young age, adventure excited you and you always wanted to prove to yourself and family that you were more than capable of doing things alone. 

You saw a river down below. The water rushing past rocks made you relaxed and with a glint in your eyes you smiled. “Aha!” You looked left and right, seeing if anyone was present. “Alone with just the woods and me. I knew mother was wrong. I can very much so take care of myself.” You threw your satchel on the floor alongside with your clothes. “I smell like a pig.” You chuckled at your joke. The cool, clear water was down below as you ran to it, looking forward to the coldness and the feeling of being clean. You jumped in not knowing someone was near. 

You dunked your face laughing. “And there’s fish!” You swam behind a light blue fish. Being at awe when you saw the way the fins shone from the sun. You picked it up skillfully and carefully you set it free. Your body delicately floated. “This is the life.” Birds chirped, the wind blew like a whisper against your cheek. 

But suddenly, the rustle of the trees alarmed you. You heard the snapping of a twig. Your head snapped to the noise. Fear bubbled inside you as you thought of all the possibilities. What if it was a bear? What if it were those monsters? Your heart sped fast as you backed out of the river. Your breathing was faster. You needed to get out of here. As you got out your back hit against fur. You quickly turned around as saw a huge demon, monster, you didn’t even know what but you knew it was from Dracula’s army. Its teeth were sharp and its eyes were bright and red. It was your worst nightmare. You erupted a scream as you sprinted around it, climbing the hill to where your satchel laid. 

“Oh my God! Oh my God! I’m gonna die!” You didn’t care about your nudeness, all that mattered to you was surviving. You tried to go as fast as possible but the creature landed in front of you, stopping you from escaping. It cornered you against a huge boulder and tree. With everything you had you lifted your cane high in the air and hit the monster. It didn’t even flinch. 

“What?” Your eyes widened in horror. The creature picked you up as if you weighed nothing and threw you against a tree. You cried out in pain as your back burned and ached to an extreme level. You then noticed that a tree branch stabbed right through your shoulder. The blood dripped down your arm onto your naked skin. You felt queasy and weak. Thoughts and last words echoed through your mind. The monster was about to devour you but a flash of blonde hair came into your vision and you saw, him.

This young man was nothing you’ve ever seen before. He was stronger than the average person, throwing the monster back and forth. He punched it high in the air and then threw it against the boulder. He was incredible. Full of power. Your eyes were starting to close and your vision grew blurry as the last thing you saw were the fangs that the man displayed. 

“Mother I had this terrible dream!” Your whole body shot up. That was a terrible decision as you winced in pain. “It was not a dream.” You breathed hard as you took in your surroundings. The fire was lit making the room comfortable as you were once shivering from being wet. It looked as if you were in the kitchen of somebody's house. “Hello?” Your throat was dry. You were in a stranger’s house. You were in a stranger’s house! “Oh dear.”  You were put high onto a table. You jumped off but were still too weak. You landed hard on your knees but caught yourself with your arms. Your shoulder pounding in pain. You became dizzy. You heard footsteps nearing. “Who are you?” You tried to stand up again but slipped into the arms of a man. 

“Hold on. You are still not well.” His voice came out almost like a whisper. He picked you up and sat you back on the table. “Also, I’m the man who saved your life.”

“That was you? That was, um, pretty amazing.” You curled into yourself. You were nervous around this man. He intimidated you and made you feel shy. He was very handsome and charming. “You kicked that things as* real good.”

The man chuckled, “thank you.”

You quickly looked at your nightgown. It was too big for you as the sleeves ate your arms and the collar was off the shoulders. Your eyes shot open. You were bashful. “Did you, um, see anything?”

He looked away, “I kinda had to. Sorry. You were naked when I saved you.”

“Great. That’s great,” you inhaled clapping your hands. Suddenly you sensed a throbbing pain on your shoulder and you looked to see a blood stain on the nightgown. “Um excuse me sir. Is that supposed to happen?”

The man looked worried as he laid you back down and pulled the nightgown down enough to see your shoulder. “It does not look good. It seems with that jump you reopened the stitches.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. God, this really hurts.”

He got to work on doing your stitches again as he got his items. “Bite down on this.” He opened his mouth to show the action and you saw his teeth. 

“Agh please don’t eat me! You’re a vampire aren’t you?” You flinched away. 

The man rolled his eyes as he shoved the cloth in your mouth but before he got started on you he said, “You are right. I am a vampire.”

You spat the cloth out, “I knew it. I also would like to know your name as this may be my last moment and I would like to remember who will either save me or take my life. My name is y/n l/n.”

“The names Alucard Tepes and this is going to sting a little.” With that Alucard poured some alcohol on your wounds. (im sorry i dont know how helping ppl w medical stuff works :( 

You shifted and tried pouncing up, fighting the urge to let out a blood curdling scream. But Alucard pushed you down with his hands, shushing you gently. “I know, this hurts.” You could almost sense some love and actual concern in his voice. His brows knitted, “I promise, you are almost finished.” 

You looked deep into Alucard’s eyes. They were the most beautiful eyes you have ever seen. This man or vampire looked unreal. He looked made up, something from stories you read as a child, like a prince. You felt something go off within you. Not knowing if it was lust or something else but a fire erupted inside your soul as Alucard’s face inched closer to yours to get to work on your shoulder. His smell was intoxicating. Almost like a musk but yet something floral, fresh, mixed in. Your heart thumped faster at the contact. 

His plump lips quivered as they looked at your state. No way did he want this innocent soul as beautiful as you looked dying on his table. He already had to deal with a lot recently. He didn’t know why or understand but he had this inclination, this feeling, that he needed to keep you alive. He just had to. 

Unable to keep the scream at bay no more you let it out. Your veins protruding from your neck as you became dizzy and once again passed out.

Your eyes opened. Your body was aching. It felt like it went through war. You inhaled as you looked around again, but this time you were hoping things were not a dream as then Alucard would be fake. Remembering his name your head whipped to the side to see Alucard holding a wash cloth stained with blood. He was sound asleep. His head resting against his arm against the table. All the medical stuff was out and about as if he were still working on you. His back was arched at a odd position. 

“He must of fallen asleep while working on me,” you whispered to yourself. His hair sprayed out on his shoulders and table. Without a second thought you touched his hair lightly and you were shocked. It felt like silk upon your fingers! His golden eye lashes kissed his cheek as he snoozed so peacefully. You felt bad leaving him to worry for you and to be sleeping in an uncomfortable place. You felt you weren’t that deserving of such treatment.

You kicked your feet out and hopped off the table. Your feet pattered against the hard floor as you walked to Alucard. You snatched him a blanket you saw nearby and draped it over his tall, lean body. You smiled seeing how elegant and graceful he looked sleeping. 

You yawned, scratching your head as you looked upon the window and noticed it was raining. Surprisingly in this vampire but also a stranger’s house the rain seemed cozy and it made you feel at peace. It was dark in his house. The trees shook from the tiny wind and rain. 

“I must leave but I should thank Alucard for helping me with my wound last night. I probably wouldn’t have last without him.” Your mind wondered back to what happened at the river. Yes, Dracula was gone according to what the towns people said but why was his army still about, his monsters? It didn’t make sense to you. But what did you know? You were just a weak human living in a mysterious world you didn’t want any part of. 

You pulled out a chair and got to writing a thank you letter to Alucard, pulling out a pen, ink and a piece of paper.

“Dear Alucard. No, too direct. How about, to a savior? Too high and mighty.” Finally you had written your letter but it sounded very awkward and you were too much of a p*ssy to give it to Alucard. “Ugh this is hopeless.” You crumpled up the paper, throwing it on the floor by the garbage. 

You thought and thought and thought until an idea popped in your mind. “I know,” you snapped. “I’ll make him breakfast. My mother always says a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” You crossed your fingers, “lets just hope this man likes human food instead of hearts and blood.” You gulped. 

You rolled your sleeves up, washed your hands and brought out the pots and pans and butter. “I’m going to make toast, eggs, bacon, beans and mushrooms.”

You spiced up the food and placed them in a skillet. The sizzle satisfying your ears. The sun started to peak through the clouds as the aroma wafted through the house. You grinned, loving to cook and make a person happy with your hard work. “I hope he likes this.” You were almost finished when Alucard coughed behind you. 

You jumped, being in the zone. “Oh hi there,” you waved awkwardly. “My apologies if I woke you.”

“Uh, no I woke myself up,” his rough voice made your knees weak as it was still laced with sleep. He stretched, cracking some knuckles, yawning as well. “What I would like to know is what are you doing?”

“Well,” you started setting up the table cutely. “I wanted to say thanks for helping me back there. I was kind of a p*ssy to be honest and like a wuss so this is just a little thanks for all the help.”

Alucard didn’t know what to say so instead he just smiled. 

“Please, sit, sit, sit,” you pointed to the seats. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

Alucard awkwardly sat. Not ever having this type of service. He looked at you as you were preparing the finishing steps of your dish. The sun cascaded around you and you were illuminated like a goddess. You were breathtaking. Alucard blushed madly. You put everything on the table. Seeing Alucard’s expression you laughed, “are you alright?”

Alucard coughed, “yes, thank you for all of this. You really didn’t need to. It all looks beautiful.” He looked at the presentation. 

You took the seat beside Alucard. You could of sat anywhere else but you sat beside him. He almost couldn’t hear what you were about to say in that moment from how hard his heart was beating.  

“No need to thank me. I think we’ve done enough thanking and now its time to dig in.” You patted his hand. 

Alucard just looked at the food and he almost felt tears at his eyes. Nobody ever cared for him like this. 

“Is it okay? If its not to your liking I totally get it. You don’t have to eat it. I don’t even know if you like this stuff. I mean who knows maybe you only eat flowers and here I am serving you bacon and eggs.” You became flustered. 

“No, no, no this is lovely its just,” he choked back a cry. “Nobody has ever done anything like this for me, ever.”

You clutched onto his hand and gave him a beautiful smile. “Then that just means you have to eat double. As much and maybe more than what your stomach can hold.” You giggled.

Alucard blushed again as he started to eat quickly. Enjoying every moment of your company and food. “The beans are delicious.”

“Well I’m glad you liked them. Its my mum’s recipe, she always makes them like this.” You then recalled why you came on this journey in the first place. “My satchel!”

“Don’t worry, its safe.”

You raised your brow, “did you take a look?”

Alucard paused, “no, I would never.” He took a bite out of his bread. Chewing on the piece silently. “Maybe just a tiny peek.”

You pouted, “Nosy. I should of locked it.”

“Why do you have all those books in your bag anyways?” Alucard crossed his legs as he took a sip of his coffee. His light orbs staring intently at you. 

Seeing the rain start to become tiny droplets of rain you thought about your family and how you missed them. This was all for them. “My siblings you see are very ill,” your hand shook with anxiety. “My village is very poor and we are limited in resources, especially medicine. We’ve tried everything and nothing seems to work. They just seem to be getting worse. I’ve been researching and trying to find an answer and supposedly, I read that there is a certain flower that only grows in a specific area that may cure the illness. In the books there is a map and that’s why I was led to that river well more like I wanted to take a bath and that’s what led me to the river. But I’ve been on this trail for a while. I’m just, scared because it all depends on me. If I can’t find this flower, if I can’t find a cure and my family dies it will be my fault. I would have killed them.” You didn’t even realize it but you were crying. 

Alucard saw you were distressed and held onto your hand. He comforted you through your anxiety. Your teary eyes looked into his and he gave you a toothy smile, “I’ll help you find it.”

“What?” You rubbed your eyes.

“I know the place you need to go. I can guide you there. Besides the outside world is very dangerous for a beautiful girl such as yourself. I can see that this means a lot to you and I want to help.”

You dropped your fork and got out of your chair. “You mean it? You aren’t joking?”

Alucard chuckled, “I promise I am speaking truth.” Alucard flung his hand out to you. 

You quickly shook on it and shouted with enthusiasm, “deal!” You jumped up and down laughing as you hugged Alucard. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Can we please leave immediately then?”

“We can leave today.”

You danced, “yes. I’ll go change and get my things.” You brought the empty dishes to clean them as Alucard stood up with a smile on his face. 

You were something else, something different. A breath of fresh air in his depressing life. Maybe you were meant to be here. Maybe you were a sign. Either way Alucard thought that these couple of days were to be very exciting. Alucard was about to get ready when a piece of paper in the corner caught his eyes. It was crumbled. “Hmmm, what is this?” He bent down to pick it up and read the words. With just the first word to the letter his smile grew bigger and bigger. 

Alucard coughed as he raised the letter you wrote to him earlier but discarded high in the air, “Dear Alucard, to my savior. I would love for you to know that I am extremely appreciative for what you have done for me in saving my life-”

Your eyes almost popped out of your head. That letter was not supposed to be read by him especially. It was embarrassing. You dropped a plate in the sink and felt your whole world collapse. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die. 

“When I first saw you I thought you were a prince-” Alucard kept going until you couldn’t take it any longer. 

You sprinted and tried grabbing the letter out of his hand. “Alucard, give that to me. Now.”

“Oh you want this letter?” Alucard smirked. “You do sound like an obnoxious romantic whore.”

You gasped, “I do not! That was supposed to be my thank you letter and I didn’t like it and you weren’t supposed to read it. So give it back!” You jumped for it but Alucard raised it high in the air. “Alucard, give it to me.”

Alucard’s face came closer to yours as he pinned you against the table. “Why don’t you come and get it?”

You practically climbed him, snatching the letter out of his hand. “Aha!” But Alucard’s footing was off and he and you fell with a thud. 

The birds chirped lightly as Alucard laid under you and you fell on top of him, your arm bracing for the impact. Alucard held in his breath with a red blush as he looked at you so extremely close. You both held that position for what felt like forever. You eyes were wide in horror at the compromising position. 

You quickly stood up and were flustered. Forgetting where everything was. “Um, um, um. I’m going to go put my trip on so we can get ready for the clothes.” You quickly ran away. 

Alucard breathed quickly as he brushed back his long hair whispering the words. “My savior.” He noticed you were in such a panic mode that you forgot about your letter. It was left and Alucard was not going to leave or throw away evidence that someone saw him in such a good light. He loved that letter because it was from you. 

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