#but again. i am being lazy today. so we will all politely pretend not to notice okay? okay <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[homo-sexual-cats]

Missed yesterday so here's a two-for-one

Pride month day 8 and day 9: ace and aro Etcetera!

[icollectyoursins]

Jotaro Relationship Head Canons SFW

Because I’m a self indulgent little shit and just love to ignore all of the work I have to do, have some Jotaro head canons. I am but a humble simp, and love this man. So much.

Update as of writing this. Somehow, it got very angsty, so... yeah. Sad man vibes. Also rambly. I just kinda kept going.

Wanna know what I’m willing to write? Rules here!

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: None, just angst, but nothing too serious.

Word Count: 2,985

Jotaro’s type is... I mean, it depends, like most people. I don’t think he’s super picky over appearances or things like that, it’s more whether or not he gets along with you and how long he can put up with you.  He’s polite (well, as polite as he can be) and courteous, but probably a little more apathetic when you’ve first met. Once you’ve been around for a while he’s more relaxed and almost a little more critical. Mostly because you’re his friend now and he expects more from his friends.

While I was writing this I sort of realized that he could be aromantic. Maybe it’s just my own aro tendencies coming through, but I thought it sort of lined up with his personality. Or at least from my experience with romantic attraction.

Eventually, though, he’ll admit he cares about you a little more than he cares about others. It comes through in little almost compliments. “You did good. Keep it up” or “good job, dealing with this” are common phrases that sound nice on the surface, but it almost feels like he’s trying to pressure you to do more, which is far from the truth.  

If it’s not awkward compliments like that, it’s awkward gifts. Always something you had briefly mentioned wanting or stared at a minute longer than you usually do, wrapped in a paper that’s your favourite colour or pattern. Sometimes, though, it’s something you’ve never mentioned that he somehow guessed would be something you wanted.

At the same time, though, he’s oblivious or at least acts like he is. There may be times when he goes home after you said something exceptionally sweet to him or that just means so much and he’ll just take a moment sitting at his desk to mull over what you said.

    With a grunt, Jotaro rolled back into the armchair with a cup of tea in one hand and today’s newspaper in the other, since he didn’t get to read it this morning. It’s late with the sun almost completely set, giving his room an orange hue. He tries reading the first column, something about a cat being saved from a sewer grate, but after about a minute, he catches himself drifting away, sort of staring blankly at the paper.

    He blinks hard, taking a long sip from his coffee. He must be tired. Another attempt is made at reading, this time the comics. They’re not his favourite thing, but short enough that he can focus on them. Or so he thought.

    He zones out again, face suddenly feeling very hot.

    He was thinking about you. Or, rather what you said.

    It was something so simple, so mundane.

    You had been talking about family together, exchanging drama, if you will, and he had brought up how his father had left his mother when he was very young. It didn’t bother him, he had said, after all, it was years ago and if he was being honest, he didn’t really need a father. Then, you gave him this look. It wasn’t pity or something like that. You put your hand on his knee, staring deep into his eyes.

    “Jotaro,” you said, voice soft and sweet. You struggled to say the next words, opening your mouth, sighing, then finally: “I’m not leaving you.”

    “Why would you be leaving?” He said, confused, taking it literally. Or, he pretended to be confused. It had made his heart warm with affection.

    What Jotaro hadn’t noticed at that moment was that his eyes seemed to gloss over with wet tears while talking about his father. He wasn’t over it, you understood that. How could he be? He was so young then, he probably didn’t understand what was happening or why and now that he’s a father himself, there had to be so much guilt about being the same way. It was only now that he was realizing how much you had an effect on him.

    It didn’t make him sad, by any means but... loved. He’ll say thank you tomorrow with a gift or some flowers. He hadn’t planned on meeting you for the rest of the week because he was busy, but work could wait, right? Yeah. Tomorrow.

God, it would take so long for him to get you to move in together. He’s so used to living on his own that I think he’s a little self-conscious about it. He’s not a slob by any means, but certainly a bachelor. I mean, he lived (assumedly) on his own from probably around or earlier than DiU right up until Stone Free, so it’s been a while and he’s certainly comfortable with his mess of clothes lying on the floor in the corner, but you won’t be. He cleans up before people come over, obviously, but how many times did he actually invite someone in?

When you start staying around more, he starts cleaning more, which makes him a little frustrated both coming to terms with liking someone enough that he’s actively cleaning for them once a week and also discovering that he’s a lot more gross than he thought. You would not believe how stained the counter was from coffee or how gross the filter was on the coffee maker. He takes his coffee very seriously. You begin to notice how clean everything is, well, how consistently clean everything is and it even starts to smell nicer, more floral and fresh. He bought a lavender air freshener. “It’s supposed to be calming,” he’ll say with a hint of annoyance. It’s not a bad smell to him, better than vanilla air fresheners, but it does give him a headache when he first sprays his place. You seem to like it though, so he’s willing to put up with it.

I honestly believe this man can cook, but nervous when cooking for other people. His food when he was a bachelor was good enough for him and I’m sure Holly would have shown him a lot too, but it’s not the best food. He definitely steps up his game when you’re over and even more so when you move in. He’s better with dishes that have pasta or noodles because it’s easy, but he’s not too bad behind the grill either.

When you guys finally live together, he tries to keep the cooking even, with you cooking some days and him doing the rest, but I honestly feel like unless you are a hazard in the kitchen, you would do most of it.

Jotaro would be like that with most things around the house partly because he doesn’t want you to do all the work if you don’t want to but he enjoys having a little more time to himself to either do work or... yeah, it’s just work. There are a few things that he’ll never make you do because it’s either too hard or he’s built up a routine of doing that thing a certain way and he’s convinced no one else will do it right. Like his laundry. He won’t let anyone else clean his clothes. He tried once and nothing dried right, he swears that his jacket is still damp to this day. You can fold his stuff or hang it up, but he’s running the washing machine and dryer. Also picky about how his office is cleaned.

If you asked and gave a legitimate reason for not doing a certain chore, he’ll do it, but be prepared with an excuse as to why you can’t wash the dishes or fold the laundry. He’s especially resistant if he’s working whether that be gathering information for the Speedwagon Foundation or editing his latest Marine Biology book.

Actually, can we just talk about how much this man hates folding laundry? It’s so pointless to him. Why fold it and put it into neat little piles when you’re just gonna rummage through the drawer and mess everything up? Sure, it looks nice, I guess, but not for long. He was for sure a floordrobe kind of guy, especially in his early years. He knows which ones are clean, it’s fine, just leave it. Of course, he would get better the longer you’re at his place, but still. It’s not that he’s lazy, he’s just busy and putting clothes away takes way too fucking long. (which, honestly, agreed.)

Date nights with Jotaro are... rare. I mean, you live with him, why would he want to go out and pay for something when he could do the same thing at home? They’re nice, of course, but it’s more common for him to take you out to dinner while you guys are on vacation or in a location other than home, because he doesn’t feel like cooking and it’s more special when you’re supposed to go out. Eventually, it clicks in that you are supposed to make each other feel special and will surprise you with an expensive dinner or a short cruise. If you suggest the aquarium he’ll think you’re just saying that because he’s into aquatic wildlife, but honestly doesn’t put up much of a fight and will answer any questions you or anyone else has about the fish.

He does enjoy a good relaxing movie (or documentary) night at home, though. It’s so nice to finally be finished work, settle into your super comfy couch and just chill until he gets tired. Even better when you’re lying on top of him with your head just under his chin. There’s something so soothing about smelling your perfume, shampoo, conditioner, cologne, etc. To just smell you so close to him and feel your weight. Aaah. So nice.

    The microwave beeps faintly from the kitchen signalling that popcorn was done. You trailed out soon after, tossing the bowl to mix around the butter. You smile sweetly at him, leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on Jotaro’s lips before settling into his lap, nestling your head just under his while stretching out your legs. His arm instinctively moves from the back of the couch to drape over your back, rubbing circles into it with his thumb.

    He sighs; relaxed, finally. He allows himself to kiss your forehead, closing his eyes for a moment, just basking in your comfort. When he opens his eyes, he pulls you closer to him, feeling your heart beat almost in time with his. It was moments like these that eased his panic of losing you. You were here in his arms, safe and sound and vice versa. He was safe in yours.

Yeah, he’s a little angsty. But, can you blame him? He’s getting better, though. With help, of course. With you being around so often (and being very adamant that you’re not going anywhere) he’s able to let go a little. He’s not perfect, by a long shot and progress is slow, but it’s the little things like these that makes you proud of how far he’s come.

PDA is common, but a little restricted. When you’re out together, Jotaro’ll always have his hand on your back or shoulder. Hand-holding isn’t really a thing for him, but he will make sure you know he’s there. He’ll kiss you in public, but it’s not nearly as intimate or special as when you’re at home. Still, it’s a sweet reminder that he loves you, seeing as words of affection aren’t really his thing.

I mean, he can express himself just fine, but he still gets a little nervous saying things like ‘I love you.’ It’s more along the lines of ‘I care about you.’ Or, well. “of course, I care about you. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” Which... thanks. I think.

Kissing him is so nice, so you’re not too mad about him doing that instead of words. When Jotaro kisses you it’s full of a mix of emotions. Mostly caring, but on his rough days, there’s something else there. It could be worry or whatever the emotional equivalent of never letting you go is. You can always tell that he wants it to last a little bit longer. There’s something in the sad look in his eyes when he or you has to pull away. Sometimes he’s overly gentle like he’ll break you somehow, especially if you’re not a stand user or fighting-inclined (whether physical or otherwise). It’s not patronizing, or at least he tries not to be patronizing, he just prefers you safe.

    It started out simple enough. You and Jotaro were just sitting at the table, eating dinner when he got this... sinking sort of feeling. There was something in the silence between you that just sent his mind spiralling. Thoughts of you someday dying too soon for whatever reason or leaving him because he’s not there enough, stand users, car crashes, divorce. They all started to flood into his mind, fabricating that you would somehow be taken away from him.

    “Jotaro? Are you okay?” Your voice rings through; a bright light breaking the storm. He’s been staring at his plate for a while now, his eyes are dry and itchy. He looks at you and tries to say something, but the words don’t come. Is he okay?

    You stand up and walk over to him, cupping his face gently. You rub the dark circles under his eyes while kissing his forehead. Jotaro slowly wraps his arms around you, letting his face fall into your hands. You’re pulled into his lap after a few minutes, running your fingers through his hair next. Finally, he sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

    “Thank you,” he mumbles and though you’re not quite sure why, you still say a quiet you’re welcome, silently soothing him through whatever happened.

If you couldn’t tell, he needs a lot of reassurance. Not so much words, but actions like the snippet above. I mean, he can be as strong as he wants but we all know he’s got some baggage and while he’s able to put it aside, for the most part, I think when you’re at home he’s just a little more vulnerable.

Now, onto happier things! If you like coffee or tea, he will always make you a cup in the morning. Jotaro is a very early riser except on the weekends, so he usually gets that done while reading or watching the news and when you come down, he’ll ask if you want breakfast then make it for you seeing as he’s more awake.

He loves coffee. So much. He might have a caffeine addiction, honestly. At all times of every day, you can see him with a black coffee in hand and a book or phone in the other. He will switch to decaf at some point, but you might have to switch it for him. He’s forgetful when he gets busy.

Sleeping in on the weekends is like heaven for him. The two nights (or more on holidays) that he gets a full nights rest, breakfast in bed and a warm soul to cuddle into. He’s usually big spoon with a hand just resting on your side, but please, for the love of god make him the little spoon once a week. Will never admit it or vocalize wanting it. He just grabs your hand and drapes it over him with a “good night” and then promptly passes out.

He’s a heavy sleeper but doesn’t sleep often. Once he’s out, there is nothing that could wake him up except the fire alarm or something like that. It just takes a while. Not because of trauma, but more just internal clock is delayed.

Not a bath guy, strictly showers ‘cause they’re quicker. Most of the time he’s in and out before you can invite him into yours. When you do he’s “reluctant” but showers with you are a favourite of his. He gets his hair washed for him (if he bends down), he can wash you. It’s great.

I don’t think he would want more kids. He’s getting older, busier and just doesn’t think he has the time to care for a baby, even with help. Plus, if they were anything like Joylne or god forbid him when he was younger, he might start greying sooner than he thought. Joylne is a great kid, but... she’s definitely got some of his defiance in him. One kid is fine.

He doesn’t really like pets either, hates when there’s fur on all the furniture. But, if you came home with a stray cat or two, he’s not gonna put up a fight if you say they’re not going to the pound. “Just as long as you take care of them yourself.”

You got him a betta fish once because Jotaro. Fish. Makes sense. He thought it was a little pointless at first. You can’t pet them or play fetch (not like he does those things anyway). All a fish does is sit there and look pretty. You were a little disappointed, but whatever, you’ll take care of it. Then he comes home one day with a 30-gallon tank, freshwater plants and fancy lighting to help them grow which he quietly sets up in the living room. He spent at least a half-hour deciding on where to put it.

A week later, after he’s pleased with how it looks and the tank has been cycled he puts in an order for more fish then lets your betta acclimate to the tank. “There, he’ll be happier in here. The idea of bettas not enjoying or panicking in larger tanks is a myth. He won’t be alone for long anyway. He also won’t kill everything in the tank.” Well, he hopes he won’t, each fish is different. Thankfully, the small school of tetras get along with your betta just fine. From then on, he’s in there once a week, cleaning everything, trimming the overgrowth. It is officially his tank.

[illfoandillfie]

Kinktober Day 4: Bimbofication + Cockwarming

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Words: 3,164

Warnings: Bimbofication/intelligence play, hypnosis/trance state, cockwarming

A/N: This fic is very much set in my Future Management universe though I think you could get away with not having read the others. I’ve missed writing these two tbh and then I saw that one of the prompts for day 4 was bimbofication and decided it was a good enough excuse to get back to them. But I also really loved the second prompt for day 4, cockwarming, so decided to mix the two together!

After the long week you’d both been dealing with, you and Roger were glad to have a weekend to yourselves to relax. You’d spent too many nights out at various political functions, lobbying politicians and trying to convince the wealthy elite to donate to your cause. It was frustrating though and despite the numerous late nights and all your best efforts, it didn’t feel like you’d got particularly far. Roger had returned to the studio that week to begin recording Queen’s next album, so he was having a better time than you had been, though by all accounts everyone had been a little on edge as the week drew to a close. He’d come home complaining about how snippy everyone had been and how little progress they’d made that day. It was nice just to curl up on the couch together and zone out in front of the telly, not least because recently you’d barely found time to just be together without interruptions. It wasn’t a problem exactly, and you’d known you’d have patches like that when you first started seeing each other, but the lack of intimacy and physical affection created by your busy schedules did take its toll. So, on Friday night, Roger took great joy in turning off the alarm clock, deciding you could both use a lie in. You were too exhausted to even suggest anything more than talking before you went to sleep, but Roger made sure he was spooning you as you settled down, holding you tight.  

Roger was still asleep as you woke, carefully detangling yourself so you could tiptoe to the bathroom, but he offered you a sleepy grin when you came back.   “Sorry, did I wake you?” “Maybe a little. Thought we were going to lie in.” He pouted at you as if you’d betrayed him.   “I had to pee!” you laughed, “But I’m all for lying in now.”   Roger chuckled along with you as he beckoned you over, encouraging you to lay your head on his chest as you snuggled back up. His hand found yours, softly tracing the length of your fingers as he sighed happily.   “I missed this,” he half whispered, pulling your hand up so he could kiss your knuckles.   You hummed in agreement. For someone who’d not been in the habit of sharing your bed or encouraging physical contact, you’d certainly gotten used to Roger’s touch. He’d thoroughly converted you as the relationship became more serious, made you see how nice it was to be held, how comforting his hand in yours could be. And you had missed it over the last week when there’d not seemed to be enough time for those soft, quiet moments with him. You’d sat next to uninterested politicians who nodded politely at what you said but never offered anything useful, and thought about how nice it’d be to feel Roger kiss your temple or squeeze your thigh. And then your mind had taken it further, reminding you how warm you got when his weight was over you, how it felt to fill your lungs with his breath and to taste him on your lips. You shifted at the idea and realised you weren’t the only one who wanted more than just to relax. Scooting away from Roger so you could better face him, you began to suggest you could maybe slip down under the covers and help him get properly excited, but before you got more than a few syllables out he was talking about a different idea.  “So, I’ve been thinking about something I thought might be fun to try with my bimbo doll.”  “Oh?” You weren’t entirely sure how you felt about that. On one hand you loved when Roger turned you brainless and cock-crazed, how fun it was and how freeing. But this was the first time you’d really been able to be together in a little while. What did it say about the state of your relationship or his opinion of you, if he’d prefer your bimbo alter ego over the real you, “You want her?”  “Not necessarily right now,” he said, rubbing his knuckles softly against your cheek, “Not if you don’t want to. I’m happy staying like this with you all day.”  “Don’t pretend you don’t want to fuck. I want to fuck.”  Roger laughed, “Oh I definitely want to fuck. I’m just saying I’d be perfectly happy fucking beautiful, brainy, you, instead of the slutty idiot.”  You couldn’t help but smile at that.  “But it’s something I’ve thought about quite a lot. And I think it’d be kind of perfect for such a lazy morning.”  “Okay.” you said, thinking about it more, “I’m not entirely opposed to the whole bimbo thing. It might actually be nice to be a bit brainless, maybe even make it a bit easier to relax. Y’know, sort of keep me focused on enjoying the moment and really feeling everything. So why don’t you just tell me what the idea is and then I’ll know how up for it I am right now.”  “Hmmm. I thought maybe it could be a surprise. But don’t worry, it’s something we’ve done before. I’m just curious how she’d react to being made to do it.”  “Being made to?” you asked, raising your eyebrows in disbelief, “Is this something I like?”  “Oh yeah, definitely. Believe me, we’ve done this a few times before. Usually, it’s less part of sex and more to do with the aftercare or the foreplay.”  You tried to think of what he meant but nothing came to mind that fit the description. It was intriguing though. And you trusted Roger, you knew he wouldn’t take advantage or force you to do something you wouldn't normally do. If he said you enjoyed it then you must enjoy it usually.  Roger waited to see how you’d react.  “Nothing to lose?”  “Nothing to lose.” He said with a smile, “I promise it’ll be fun, love.”  “Okay, let’s do it. I’m insanely curious. But also, sometime later today or tonight, we’re going to have regular, non-bimbo, sex.”  “Anything you want. You ready?” 

You nodded and instantly felt Roger draw you back down so you were within easier reach. His fingers trailed lightly over your arms as he began to talk you down. You relaxed into the moment, letting his voice wash over you as his touch created goosebumps over your skin. As you closed your eyes your breathing began to soften and you felt the familiar drowsiness settle into your mind. Roger did his usual improvisation, making sure you knew how dumb you were, how easily confused and hopelessly idiodic you were. He made you understand that you couldn’t understand half of what he said, that you were just a giggly dummy who needed his help. And then, when he was sure you had gone brainless, he told you how horny you were. How all you could think about was his cock in every one of your holes, how desperately you ached for him, how being filled by him was your one goal in life. The only thing you needed or wanted. And how the longer you waited the hornier you got. He told you about being desperate and wet and you felt yourself grow desperate and wet as he said it though you couldn’t remember the word desperate. You tried you but just came up blank. The only world you could think of was cock. It flashed in your mind like a neon sign and just the thought of that word alone made your mouth water and you cunt ache.  You shifted, trying to rub your legs together, able to feel the slick forming between them as your stomach tightened with need. And then he told you one word, a simple word. No. He explained that every time he told you no, it was guaranteed to compound the horny desperation you felt.   “What’s co-com- ummm, com-pound?” You asked, confusedly.   “It means the feeling will get stronger. When I say no, you’ll get even hornier. Understand?”  “Yes,” you sighed, content now that he’d explained the hard word.  

By the time you blinked your eyes open, all you knew was that you wanted his cock. It was your very first thought and the first thing you said.   Roger looked at you, smiling, and greeted you. A pleasant, “Hi,” that made you feel warm and happy.  You’d smiled back, “Can I please have your cock Sir?”  That made Roger laugh, “No baby. That’s now what I want to do right now.”  Hearing him say that just made you want it more though.  “Please Sir? I could suck it for you. I really really really want to suck your cock.”  “No, I don’t think I want that either.”  You whined softly, “I promise I’m reallllllly good at it and I love sucking cock so much.”  “No. What else could you do instead?”  “Ummm,” it was hard to think, hard to remember anything beyond how horny you were, “Maybe I could ride you?”  “Hmmm, no.”  You groaned and clenched your hands into fists for a second as a bolt of energy ran through you, “Can I wank you?”  “No, baby, not that either.”  “Please Sir?”  “No.”  The bolt of energy ran through you again and you stomped your foot against the mattress to relieve some of the pressure.   “Keep suggesting things,” Roger grinned, “Maybe one of them might interest me.”  You scrunched your face up in concentration, trying to think of something Roger might like, “What about if you fucked me? I’d be so good and I’d stay so still and you could use my pussy and cum in me and-”  “No. No I don’t want that either.”  “But Siiiiiiir,” you whined, “You always tell me to take your cock!”  “Do I?”  “Yes!” you giggled, wondering how he could have forgotten, “You always say how good it feels in me.”  “I s’pose that’s true.”  “So can I have your cock now?”  “No.”  You whined and pouted but Roger didn’t budge.  “I’ll tell you what. Let’s start with taking your clothes off.”  “Okay Sir.” you nodded, giggling again at the idea, hoping it would lead to having one of your holes filled.  “Well go on then. Shirt off first, good girl.”  You rolled yourself off the bed and quickly began tearing off the pyjamas you were wearing, feeling hot as Roger’s gaze dragged over the newly exposed skin.   “Now undress me.”  You couldn't help but laugh as you crawled across the bed to reach him. He’d slept without a shirt so all you had to worry about were his flannel PJ pants and underwear pulling them down his legs one at a time. As his underwear came down your eyes fell to his cock, revealed inch by inch. You felt saliva pool in your mouth and had to resist the urge to lean forward and taste him.  “Can I touch you Sir?” you asked quietly, almost holding your breath as you waited for his answer.  “No.”  “Please?” you asked again, frustrated. Roger didn’t understand how bad you wanted it, how much you needed him. “I’ll do anything Sir, whatever you want.”  “No.”  With an impatient groan you threw yourself onto your stomach, beating your fists and feet against the mattress. It was the only way to relieve the energy and pressure building inside you.  But Roger just laughed, “Awww, is Dummy gonna have a tantrum? That’s not going to change my mind. My answer is still no.”  You whined and kicked your legs again, your pussy throbbing with how empty it was.  “You’re such a desperate slut, aren’t you Dummy.” Roger laughed again, “So maybe....”  You looked up excited and hopeful.  “I might decide to fuck you. Pin you down, fill you hard and deep and cum in you as many times as I can manage. Just to shut your whining up.”  You scrambled back to your knees and nodded happily, reaching to wrap your hand around Roger’s cock.  He slapped you away, “I said might, Dummy. That’s still a no. You’ll have to show me you deserve it. You’ll have to be a good bimbo doll and do everything I say. Can you do that?”  You whined but agreed you could. He didn’t need to make you promise to follow his orders. You’d have done that anyway. You’d have done anything he asked, anything to make him feel happy and pleased. 

“Sit up, hands behind your back. Show me your cunt.”�� You scrambled to do as he asked, smiling proudly when he hummed at the sight of your spread legs and wrapped his fist around the base of his cock.  “You’re so wet Dummy. How’d that happen?”  You giggled again, “I told you I want you Sir.”  “Guess I didn’t realise how much,”  Your gaze fell to his hand and your breath caught as you watched him slowly stroke his length, stiffening more the longer your eyes were fixed on him. It just made everything worse. You couldn’t seem to drag your eyes away, nearly panting with desire. Wanting to touch yourself almost as much as you wanted to touch him.  “Oh you are desperate. I can see your cunt clenching around thin air and you’ve got drool on your chin. You don’t even care which hole I use.”  You shook your head. Whatever he wanted would make you happy because it’d make him happy.  “I could keep telling you no.”  A whimper slipped from your lips and you felt your pussy pulse with need.  “But maybe I’ll be generous. Lie down here, next to me. Good girl, now turn onto your side. No, other side, facing away from me. That’s right.”  “What are you doing Sir?” you asked over the creaking of the bed frame as Roger shifted around behind you. He didn’t answer though, just pressed himself against your back. You could feel his hard length being directed to your slit and you changed the position of your legs to make it easier for him.   “Good girl,” he said softly, his breath warm against your bare skin.  You moaned at the feeling of him moving between your legs, waiting for the sweet stretch of him filling you. Only it didn’t come. You could feel him between your lips, sliding easily through your soaked folds, every ridge and vein making you shudder. You tried to press back, to direct him into you, but his hand landed on your hip, forcing you to still.  “No.”  The word pulled another whine from you, louder than any before, exacerbated by how close he was to what you really wanted. But that just made Roger chuckle as he kept teasing you. It was pure torment, though worse was still to come.  

It took you completely by surprise when Roger stopped his teasing rubbing, readjusting his angle so he could sink into you slowly. The unexpectedness of it stole your breath but you managed to gasp out a small moan of thanks, finally getting what you’d been so desperate for. The position you lay in kept your bodies close as he sheathed himself fully, rocking his hips gently so as to withdraw a little and thrust back into you. You could have cried with joy at knowing you’d pleased your Sir, that you’d been so good and patient, and he’d finally decided to take what you’d offered him. And then he stopped. You tried to take over his rhythm, tried to fuck yourself on his cock the way you knew he liked. Last time you’d done that he’d praised you for being brainless and needy, called you a good bimbo whore and you’d kept going until he’d cum, laughing about how good it felt. But this time he stopped you. He pressed his hips flush against you and wrapped his arm tightly over the top of you.   “No, Dummy. No moving now.”  “But Sir,”  “No. Be good and lie still or I will make you,” He tapped the middle of your forehead with a finger, “Remember I have all the power.”  You didn’t know what he meant by that or why he’d tapped you but you knew how to be good. You knew how to please. And so you relaxed again and lay quiet and still, the way he wanted you.  “It’s still a little early for me to use you. I think I want to sleep a bit longer, so why don’t you stay here and warm my cock for me. It’ll keep me comfortable so I can sleep longer. And then when I’m better rested I’ll think about fucking you.”  You whined again, wanting to thrash your arms and legs again but unable to, wanting to be pinned down by your Sir and used, wanting to feel him move within you or to taste his cum or anything. But if that was what he wanted that was what you’d do, so you nodded and agreed softly.   Roger hummed happily which was all you needed to hear to feel happy too. He let out a tired exhale and seemed to still. You listened as his breath evened out into a shallow rhythm, and struggled to keep relaxed in his embrace. As far as you could tell he was asleep, though his hand seemed to come to life. His fingertips trailed over your skin, coming to rest on your chest. You tried to remain quiet but struggled not to moan as his hand cupped your breast and squeezed it. In response he moved slightly, though still slept on, his cock changing angle within you by a hair's breadth. In your state of heightened arousal it was enough to have you clenching again, trying not to wake Roger in case he got mad.  

There was a soft laugh from behind you and Roger mumbled, “C’mon Dummy, you should sleep too.” And then he kept talking, telling you how you’d still be horny when you woke but you’d have control of your brain again, you’d be back to his beautiful, intelligent partner. It sounded like nonsense (what did intelligent even mean?) but something about the way he spoke made your eyes droop and close. There was a small tap on your forehead and you awoke, disorientated by being brought back to the real world so soon.  “How do you feel, love?”  Roger asked and you twisted in his arms to try and see him better. You were pleased when you heard him groan at the change in your position.   “You’re a fucking tease Roger Taylor.” you half laughed, trying to sound less amused than you were.  He laughed too, clearly pleased with his little game, as he released you and withdrew his cock from your heat, “I told you you’d like it.”  You pushed yourself up to be more comfortable, “I don’t know that like is the word I’d use. All I feel is horny. Insanely so.”  “Do you want that fuck now?”  He was still laughing when you tackled him. 

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

[novelconcepts]

FOUND IT!!! Consider this an official ask for 3 and 14 combined! #wheee

smiling into a kiss and play wrestling

Having a best friend again is strange. She’d gone so long imagining the phrase as a sort of neon sign staked firmly in the past: Best Friend, already spoken for. Eddie had always been it; no other volunteers need apply. 

But Eddie’s gone now, out of her life, living out wherever his might go in another country altogether, and Dani finds the position has--slowly, without really planning for it--been filled once more. Not that she planned for it. Not that could ever could have. 

She didn’t come to Bly looking for Jamie, and if you’d told her the gardener who refused to so much as meet her eyes, much less introduce herself, would become the most important person in her life--well. Life is full of surprises.

There is so little of Eddie in Jamie, she sometimes wonders how both could have occupied the same shape in her heart. Sometimes wonders how Eddie--who prized cleanliness, routine work hours, dinners at his mother’s once a week--would look at Jamie, if he could see her. Jamie, all tousled hair, happiest with a cigarette between her teeth and both hands buried in soil. Jamie, who has never kept a nine-to-five, never craved Sunday afternoons with her parents, never looks at Dani like she expects firm posture, bright smile, neat clothes. 

They couldn’t possibly be more different--and yet, somehow, Jamie is her best friend. Unfair to think it, maybe, but she might be the best friend Dani’s ever had. Her sense of humor is dark, her vocabulary wallpapered with curse words and shorn letters; she smells of nicotine and sunscreen, dresses in wrinkled flannels and torn jeans. Where Eddie looped an arm around her shoulders, Jamie nudges her with bony elbows; where Eddie pressed his lips to her temple, Jamie leans carefully away. Different, in every measure. 

And it isn’t that she likes Jamie more. That wouldn’t be fair--not after so many years in Eddie’s company. It’s just that when Jamie looks at her, eyes bright, dirt smudged on one cheek, sometimes, she feels...

“You’re thinking,” Jamie observes. She doesn’t say it the way Eddie would--the way he always pointed out when she was clenching her fist under the table, or picking at her nails, his voice edged with concern bordering on condescension. Her voice is light, her lips curved in a small smile. 

Eddie never quite smiled at her like that. Or, if he did, it didn't pluck the same chord in her stomach. Not that that matters. Not that that affects the sincerity of friendship. 

Not that it’s making her feel weirdly flushed this afternoon. 

“Am I not allowed to think?” she asks. The sun, she thinks, is responsible for the goofy smile on her face. The heat of the day, which stretches on and on the way only early July knows how.

“Not arguing,” Jamie says. “One of us ought to.”

She’s on her knees, pulling weeds, her face shining with sweat. There’s something about days like this--afternoons where the kids are occupied helping Owen bake cookies, leaving Dani to nurse a glass of water and pleasantly-meandering conversation--that feels almost too good to be allowed. Eddie would have wanted to do something with a day like this: hike, or clear up the yard, or go visit family. 

Jamie, on the other hand, pushes to her feet and surveys the bed she’s spent all day working. “Think that’s good enough for a break. Here, budge over.”

Dani obediently scoots to the edge of her seat, amused when Jamie flops down half in her lap. A year of working at the manor, and Jamie’s gone from a woman who couldn’t make eye contact to save her life to this: gangly limbs tossed haphazardly over Dani’s, sweat-slick skin sticking where it lands against Dani’s shoulder. It’s too hot for cozying up like this, but she can’t seem to convince herself to push Jamie away. 

“There,” Jamie sighs, tilting her head back against the plastic of the lawn chair. “Christ, feels good just to breathe.”

“You breathe,” Dani says, “and I’ll think. Together, we make an almost-functional human being.”

“Almost,” Jamie says wryly. Her hand loops around Dani’s, teasing the sweating glass out of her grip long enough to take a sip. Dani nudges her. 

“Could get you one of your own, if you ever learned to ask politely.”

“Don’t like me polite,” Jamie says with a shrug. “My brand is prickly-yet-charming, and we both know I’m your favorite for it.”

“Technically,” Dani corrects, “Flora is my favorite. Mainly because she doesn’t make me remind her to say please.”

“Please,” Jamie says without missing a beat, “keep pretending you aren’t captivated by my winning personality.”

Dani laughs. “Oh, is that what I am?”

“Mm.” Jamie takes another sip, reaches over her to set the glass down on the table, closes her eyes. “S’what you were all pensive about just now, I’m sure. How entranced you are with my witty banter.”

“Entranced,” Dani repeats.

“Beguiled. Mesmerized. Drunk with adoration.” Jamie’s face is pink, a bead of sweat neatly lining her upper lip. Dani only realizes she’s staring a fortunate beat before Jamie rolls her head to the left, peering at her with lazy amusement. “Go on. Tell me how much you love me.”

“Love how ridiculous you can be, maybe.” And how sweet, and how unquestioningly soft, though she doesn’t see a need to put that into words--or a way to do it without sounding entirely out of her head. The heat, she thinks, is absolutely getting to her. 

It’s the heat, making her want suddenly to slide an arm between the plastic back of the chair and the cotton of Jamie’s tank top, pulling her even closer. The heat, making her want to displace the normal back-and-forth ease of friendship with something else entirely. 

She’s had a best friend before. She’s never quite wanted to do with Eddie what she is, more and more, thinking about with Jamie curled up beside her. 

Distract, she thinks, because Jamie is still watching her with that half-lidded expression she gets when the sun is particularly bright, the day’s work has been well-tended, and Dani’s shoulder is a cushion beneath her head. More and more, it’s been feeling like a dangerous sort of moment, Jamie’s face lingering near the crook of her neck. Jamie’s breath coasting down the neckline of her dress. Jamie’s smile sweeter than should be allowed, given the grumpy way she slouches around the grounds. 

“Thinking,” Jamie says, her voice almost soft. Dani shakes her head. 

“It’s not illegal.”

“Is,” Jamie says, “if you’re gonna just stare at me all googly-eyed while you do it. C’mon, what gives? Is today some holiday I’ve forgotten?” She sits up a little straighter, her face comic in its sudden concern. “Shit, Poppins, it’s not your birthday.”

She almost wants to say it is, just to watch Jamie turn fascinating new shades of maroon. “No--just--it’s hot.”

Jamie sags back with palpable relief. Her arm is freckled, Dani notices, beyond the norm; the summer is drawing all sorts of secrets from her skin, and it’s suddenly painfully tempting, the urge to trace her nail along these newfound constellations. 

Distract, she thinks again, more urgently this time. Without thinking it through, without considering the consequences, she dips two fingers into the glass of water and flicks the still-cool moisture directly into Jamie’s face. 

Jamie, to her credit, hardly jumps. She’s just blinking at Dani like their conversation has taken an unanticipated left turn into another language, water dripping from the end of her nose. 

“Okay,” she says. “If that’s how we’re playing it.”

Her arm reaches across without hesitation, replicating Dani’s playbook: two fingers dipped, flicked, landing back in her lap as Dani sputters. 

“You got me in the eye.”

“Cooled you off, though?” Jamie asks, almost politely. Dani laughs, and suddenly, it’s war. There’s barely enough room on the chair for the both of them to sit like adults, much less to squirm around, hips knocking, legs tangled up as the remainder of the glass finds its way--droplet by droplet--into Jamie’s face, down Dani’s neck, sometimes missing entirely and disappearing into the sizzling summer air. 

Dani is ultimately the victor, an upset decided when she grasps the glass--now containing maybe two inches of water--and upends it directly over Jamie’s head. She’s laughing almost too hard to breathe, particularly when Jamie gives a firm shake of her hair, looking like a rumpled dog after a bath.

“That,” Jamie says in a low, dangerous tone, “cannot stand.”

She’s up before Dani can stop her, sprinting toward the garden hose uncoiled in the grass. Dani twists in her seat, knees drawn up to her chest, arms extended.

“Don’t you dare!”

“All’s fair,” Jamie says, almost apologetically, depressing the trigger. 

They are, Dani notes somewhere in the back of her mind, full-grown adult women. They are thirty years old, gainfully employed, responsible for the upkeep of an entire house and the well-being of two small children. 

They are also now chasing one another across the lawn, Dani sopping wet, Jamie laughing so hard she nearly trips over her own feet taking a corner too fast. The hose is growing more and more tangled by the minute as she dashes in a zig-zag pattern, periodically firing a jet of water over her shoulder, and Dani has no prayer of catching up--not with her shoes squelching, slipping on wet grass, her lungs clenched around a soundless jag of laughter. 

Adults, she thinks, as Jamie makes the insurmountable error of trying to bolt past her like a quarterback dodging a tackle; she makes a successful leap over the tangled hose, but forgets at the last second to factor in the edge of the lawn chair. Dani has her around the middle before she can dart out of reach, the both of them tumbling over in a cackling heap of grass clippings, puddled hose water, freckled limbs. 

They’re rolling, shouting wordlessly around giggles, Dani struggling to pry the hose out of Jamie’s hands. It’s harder than it looks; Jamie is small, but strong in an annoyingly wiry sort of way. Even when Dani manages to get her onto her back, the water is inescapable, dousing in short jets across her chest, down her arms, pooling awkwardly between them. 

“You are,” she laughs, “a child.”

“Could a child do this?” Jamie replies, jerking upward at the hips with unexpected force. Dani rocks up with her, one hand grasping the sodden front of Jamie’s shirt for balance, and drops back down without budging from her seat. Jamie releases an oof as her back makes rough contact with the ground again, giggling too hard to successfully shove Dani over.

“Yes, actually, I think a child would be exactly that effective,” Dani informs her. Her body has never felt quite this alive, her muscles aching with the effort of an unplanned run. Jamie, chest heaving for breath, is practically glowing. 

“Just want to remind you,” Jamie says, “you did start this.”

“Does that mean I win?” If she hasn’t, she can’t imagine it would feel any better than this: straddling Jamie’s hips in the soft grass, cool water seeping down her back, her dress sticking pleasantly to warm skin. Jamie allows the hose to drop from her grip at last, her head tipped back, eyes closed.

“Call it a draw.”

“What if I wanted to win?” She slides a hand up without thinking, pinning Jamie by the wrist before she can decide to take up her watery weapon again. Jamie draws a deep breath, face flushed, grinning. 

“Guess you’d have to work harder for it.”

Children, Dani thinks--but suddenly, it doesn’t feel childish anymore. Suddenly, she’s overly aware of her dress rucked high around her thighs, of how short Jamie’s shorts really are, how her body is considerably less obscured than usual with her shirt plastered to her frame. Suddenly, she’s aware of Jamie’s hand flexing against the grass, pinned beside her head with a loose enough grip to break--though Jamie isn’t breaking it. Isn’t even trying.

Jamie is, instead, gazing up at her with hair mussed, eyes bright. Jamie, whose free hand is sliding up to rest along the curve of Dani’s hip. 

She’s Dani’s best friend, like he was, but this doesn’t feel like it belongs in the same category as late-night stories swapped by the fire, or letting each other steal the vegetables the other doesn’t care for off their plate. This feels like a category all its own: the way Jamie licks her lips as Dani’s head lowers, the way Dani’s fingers graze the freckles painting her wrist on the way up to notching her palm against Jamie’s. 

Her hair is wet, and Jamie’s face is sweaty, and there’s so little romance to the whole picture, it takes her by surprise. She’s always thought there should be talking before a thing like this, at least--a decision made on equal footing. 

“I don’t have to,” she says, even as Jamie is saying, “Do you want to?”

Children would laugh again, go back to wrestling, go back to how it all felt just a few minutes before. They are not, Dani notes as she lowers her head--as Jamie shifts up at the shoulders to meet her--children. 

She’s hyper-aware of all of it now: the sun beating against her shoulders, the hand Jamie is using to grip the back of her dress, the exact angle of Jamie’s mouth parting beneath her own. Her tongue is gentle, brushing Jamie’s, and the sound Jamie makes into her is anything but. 

She’s smiling, she realizes, so hard, it hurts--that deep, wonderful hurt of laughing too hard for too long, of slipping in the grass and landing in a heap with someone who couldn’t help catching her on the way down. She’s grinning into Jamie even as she’s kissing her, even as she’s letting her body stretch out to press Jamie more firmly against the damp ground. 

And Jamie, fingers curled between her own, making soft sounds of appreciation into the kiss, is grinning right back. 

“This was your plan all along,” she accuses, brushing the hair from Dani’s eyes when they break for a breath. “Awful lot of work, for a kiss.”

“All’s fair?” Dani suggests--and she genuinely, honestly cannot decide which she likes more: the way Jamie kisses, or the way Jamie kisses and laughs at the same time. All of it, she feels, goes a country mile beyond best friends. All of it goes a country mile beyond anything she could ever have dreamed up, walking away from him the way she did. 

It couldn’t possibly be more different.

[house-of-galathynius]

Only You ~ Rowaelin

A Rowaelin fanfic, set if Aelin’s parents had lived and she had met Rowan under normal circumstances, if Erawan and Maeve weren’t threats. Hope you enjoy! 

Prologue ~ Chapter Two

Chapter One: Meeting 

 Summer had always been Aelin’s favourite time of the year. It was the soft breezes and the long days, the late nights. It was the time of year where she didn’t have to be a princess. There was no need for the formalities or the pretending. 

Summer was the season of freedom. 

And when she had woken up that morning, the sun was still low in the sky, the mist dancing between the trees and the bird song was mellowed, quieter somehow. She had known that summer was over; her Fae senses could feel the shift of the season. Summer giving way to the crispness of autumn. And despite the peacefulness and beauty of autumn, it was also her least favourite time of the year.

Court would begin again. Gone would be the long nights of stargazing, the lazy days lounging in the sun with a book or the trips to the Staghorns; now was the time for her royal duties to start once again. 

A gentle tap of the door had Aelin groaning and shifting in bed. 

“Your Highness? Your father would like to know if you will be eating breakfast with them this morning.” Her maid Elspeth was one of the good ones. She was in her late forties and had been with Aelin for her entire twenty years. She was a short woman, her hair starting to grey at the roots, her cheeks always rosy and plump. But Aelin loved her like a mother.

Elspeth slid into the room and closed the door behind her, she strode over to the towering windows which looked out over the forest beyond the castle. The thick curtains were opened to reveal a grey morning. Elspeth didn’t wait for a response from Aelin as she continued her way around the room to the balcony on the far side. She opened the doors and Fleetfoot, Aelin’s beloved dog perked up and trotted off to the fresh air. 

Elspeth was well versed in the ways of Aelin. Which is why her final task was to perch on the edge of her bed and pull the covers back. 

“Aelin, you have guests arriving today.” 

She shot up in bed, staring at Elspeth. She had forgotten about the guests. If she had, she definitely would have been up earlier. She said as much. 

“The Queen of Doranelle, Sellene Whitethorn is arriving with her family.” 

Of course. There had been turmoil in Doranelle for many years and finally, only a few months ago, they had decided on a new queen. It had been a surprise to her Uncle Orlon when it had been announced, but nonetheless, had extended an invitation to visit once the new queen had settled into her new role. Just as the offer would be extended to me one day- when I became queen. 

“I suppose I cannot get away with my usual attire today?” She said. Elspeth laughed and shook her head. “I’m afraid not. A dress will be required.” 

Elspeth had picked a simple yet regal gown in a deep Terrasen green. Elspeth tried and failed to get Aelin to braid her hair, or at least put it into a simple updo. But Aelin enjoyed her hair free, the long blonde locks were one of her favourite assets, and never understood the need to hide it. 

She surveyed herself in the mirror, despite her late night with Sam, she looked awake and bright eyed. Ready for a day of acting like a princess. 

When Aelin arrived into the breakfast room, her father and mother were already seated, Orlon too. She took up the seat beside her mother and smiled apologetically to the three of them. Tardiness was one of her weaknesses and had frustrated all of them to no end. But with the night she had just had… if only her parents knew. 

“Late night again, Aelin?” Orlon grinned. He had always been privy to Aelin’s whereabouts, where she would sneak off to, who she would meet. 

Sam was not royal, in fact, he held no title in Terrasen. He had moved when he had been sixteen years old; escaping the grips of an assassin in Rifthold. He had stowed away on a ship, not knowing where it was going, but hoping that anywhere was better than before. He arrived in Terrasen with a few coins and his wits about him. He’d managed to secure work at a library. The owner had been old and frail, unable to lift the books, unable to do much at all. Sam had taken it upon himself to help in any way he could. And six years later he was the proud owner. It’s where Aelin had met him. Since then, she had been sneaking off to see Sam every chance she could; the only person knowing being Orlon. 

She knew it could never be more than it was with Sam, a reason why she had been so quick to shut down his offer the night before. And despite Terrasen being a forward-thinking country— the King was married to a man for Gods sake— they still drew the line at commoners and royalty marrying, or even being involved, the only exception being a mating bond; something so rare and final that no King or God could argue with it. So she tried to enjoy the stolen moments she had with Sam. Avoiding the advances of any foreign royalty that may come her way. The King only allowing it on the condition that when a serious offer of marriage arose, Aelin would accept and take her place as the next heir to the throne. She loved Sam, and on occasion had been angry at the impossibility of it being anything other than what it was now.

There was the other problem of her immortal lifespan. Sam was human and at some point it would have to end anyway.

“Did you forget about the arrival of the Whitethorns today?” Her father asked.

“It may have slipped my mind.” An easy lie. She took a bite of the pastry in front of her, savouring the sweetness. “But I am here now, and ready to be the perfect princess.” Another bite. 

Her mother chuckled to herself, sipping on the herbal tea that she would drink every morning without fail. Orlon cleared his throat, giving her a look. 

“The queen is new to this Aelin. We must ensure she is welcomed and feels comfortable during her stay.” 

A roll of her eyes. “I think I can manage being nice for a few days.” 

“Weeks.”

She stopped mid-chew. 

“The Whitethorns will be here for at least three weeks. Their castle is under renovations, so we offered them a place to stay whilst they were underway.” 

She had never heard of such a thing. A new queen, leaving her territory for weeks? 

“Darling, you are not expected to entertain them alone, nor be present at every minute.” Her mother had always been the diffuser; ensuring the conversations remained civil, if not for her sanity, for the sake of Aelin’s temper that had resulted in a few fires. “But the sneaking off will have to stop. Lysandra will understand.” Lysandra being Aelin’s excuse for when she was actually sneaking off to see Sam. 

She smiled politely and confirmed that she would be well behaved for when the guests arrived.

And that was that. 

She finished breakfast quickly and excused herself before they could make her stay longer. Aelin made her way to the training ground just beyond the walls of the garden. Orlon had had it built when it was evident Aelin needed a place to train with her powers. Fire magic was a rare gift, one that hadn’t been in the royal family since Brannon. She was grateful for the space, even if she no longer needed to train to the same extent. Only meeting with her trainer once every month.

“I thought I might find you here.” Lysandra’s voice echoed across the stones. “Hiding?” Lysandra laughed. 

“Something like that.” 

Lysandra was silent as she perched on the stone bench, watching as Aelin made shields of flame, as she danced the fire through her fingers and flung her powers towards the wall.

“I won’t be available for a while Lys. The Queen of Doranelle and her family are arriving today.” Aelin held the flame in her palm. “I need you to send a message to Sam for me.”

Lysandra had been the daughter of one of her mothers maids. And when her mother had died, Aelin’s mother could not stand the thought of Lysandra going to an orphanage. So she had housed Lysandra and trained her as a lady-in-waiting for Aelin. And even though they hated each other as children, the older they got the more they understood the other. 

“I heard one of the Whitethorn princes is extremely handsome. Do you think he’d be interested?” Aelin snorted. Any person would be insane not to be attracted to Lysandra. 

“Gods help the poor male if you pursue him.” Aelin returned to her flame.

“We all know that you’re going to marry me one day.” 

They both whirled at the sound of the male voice at the archway. Aedion stood there in all his glory. He wore a midnight blue jacket and dark pants, clothes for important people, Aelin thought. It was envy that Aelin was feeling. Aedion may be a prince, but he would never be King; marrying Lysandra would never be a problem, if she ever agreed, that was. 

Lysandra rolled her eyes and flipped her hair to the side. “Aedion, we both know you can’t handle me.” 

“We’ll see, Lysandra.” Mischief glittering in his eyes. 

Aedion took his wandering eyes away from Lysandra and back to Aelin, who had already lost interest in their banter. 

“What do you want Aedion? Aelin and I were busy.” 

“I’m here to tell Aelin that the Whitethorns will be here any moment, and her father wishes for her to be in the great hall to welcome them.” 

No peace. Summer was well and truly over then. Her flame flickered out and she brushed down her dress that was lightly coated in dust. She shook out her hair and let it fall past her shoulders, running her fingers through it to release any tangles. 

“How do I look?” 

“Like your father is going to kill you when he see’s the mess on your clothes.” Aedion held his arm out, she linked hers through it and smiled back at Lysandra who was brushing her own dress down.

“I’ll see you later Aelin.” A smile. “Always a pleasure, Aedion.” And then she was gone. 

Aelin and Aedion strolled down the path that led back into the gardens and then into the tall white palace of Orynth. The guards bowed their heads as she passed, the only acknowledgement that they would give. They continued into the palace, the halls empty of people. 

“Did they have to put out so many flowers? I feel like I’m just going to sneeze the entire time.” Aedion laughed, but didn’t respond as they approached the doors to the great hall. 

The room was only ever used for special occasions, I suppose a new queen included that. The room was large, taking up an entire wing of the castle, it’s ceiling tall, gold chandeliers dropping from it. The walls were painted white, with green and gold accents dotted around— the colours of Terrasen. The room was magnificent, every inch dripping in wealth and splendour. 

When she entered she dropped into a low curtsey. Orlon was sat atop the Antler Throne, his eyes fixed on her and Aedion— who was also bowing low. Her father and mother were sat on two smaller seats to Orlon’s left. A second, smaller throne rested next to Orlon’s; for the consort of the king. Which was unusually empty; Orlon’s husband usually filling the spot. 

As soon as she was in her place and everyone else were in their correct spots the guard at the end of the hall announced the arrival of the first Whitethorn family members. Aelin knew this formality all too well— get the lesser family members out of the way first, and then announce the most important. So she dropped her eyes and fiddled with the hem of her sleeve. She kept her eyes averted as the guard listed off the names of lesser royals and their spouses. A pinch on her shoulder made her look up, she spun to berate Aedion for being an ass, when the guard started to speak once more. 

“Your majesty, I would like to present Rowan Whitethorn, Prince of Doranelle and  Endymion Whitethorn, Prince of Doranelle.” 

The two males stepped through the open doors and she met the eyes of the shorter male. He was handsome, of course; and she smiled politely at him, wishing this would go faster. He smiled back, lowering his head slightly before doing the same to Aedion. Aelin tore her eyes away and looked at the second male stood next to him. Her breath caught in her throat as she beheld what was in front of her. 

It took him a moment to look toward her, and when their eyes met she felt every hair on her body stand up. His pine green eyes met her own and it was like the world was falling around her. She swallowed and forced herself to breathe, her body heating. 

The male in front of her seemed to be doing the same thing. His breathing turned shallow and he couldn’t tear his eyes from hers. 

It was like everything around her was spinning or maybe she was falling, Orlon’s voice faded to the background, all she could hear was the pounding of her heart. 

As she stared into the eyes of her mate.

[incorrect-quotes-from-she-ra]

Morning! I hope you don't mind if i give you yet another She-Ra thought I'm too damn lazy to post on my own. Also, it's long again. I WILL find that character limit some day.

So, we know the way Shadow Weaver raised Adora resulted, among other issues, in her being selfless to the point of self-sacrifice, which came to a climax in the Heart's failsafe business.

And it's been suggested that this was basically intentional on Shadow Weaver's part. Basically, selflessness is a very beneficial quality for others to have. My theory is that <b>her plan for Adora had always been specifically for her to someday use the failsafe and release all magic</b>.

(i will admit i am also curious how formatting works in this app. thank you for your help with these experiments)

So, evidence. Let's start with her name. I know this is a remake and they were stuck with the existing names, but there's a scene where Scorpia complains about it ("yeah i GET it, everyone LOVES you"), which constitutes the writers acknowledging its meaning, which makes me think it's fair game to analyze.

First, I'm obviously assuming Shadow Weaver choose it, as part of her ongoing parenting plan. It's also possible it was her original First One-given name, we don't know. Neither quite works because either she or Light Hope should have had some issues knowing what the name was and they clearly knew automatically. Really the entire series is weird in that everyone communicates with everyone else way too easily, and i will definitely rant about that someday.

For now let it stand that Shadow Weaver is the parent figure, it makes the most sense for her to pick the name, both in-universe and narratively, so i shall assume so by default. I have two things to say about that choice.

First, as we all have noticed, most of the princesses have names ending in -a. All of them, if you count "Glimma". It's never said to be intentional, but it would make sense. And then IF such a tradition exists among Etheria's royalty, it's not unreasonable for Shadow Weaver, a notable and moderately respected member of the land of knowledge, to know about it.

And then if she knew, of course she would take it into consideration when looking for names. Admittedly it's a little weird with the anti-Princess propaganda that the Horde has, but she doesn't really need to explain or justify this. Hordak has a very [i]laissez-faire[/i] attitude, and everyone else she clearly doesn't care about.

And if she knew or suspected that the princesses' powers were related to the Heart of Etheria, which i will argue for later, then giving her a princessy name is also adequately ironic.

The second name bit is that Scorpia clearly knows some Latin, but not enough. True, <em>adorare</em> means to worship and/or to love, but Latin verbs are more complex than that. _Adora_ specifically is 3rd person singular present indicative active. The translation would be "she loves".

Names aside, i want to talk about how they (we) learned about the Heart of Etheria. Castaspella doesn't know what to do, Shadow Weaver suggests they take a road trip to research, which she's reticent about but concedes is probably the best use of her time, and they find success. We don't know how long it took them, but i had the distinct impression that it wasn't very long.

Naturally, I'm suggesting Shadow Weaver knew all along, and led Castaspella on the trip to have an excuse for the inevitable "how do you know?". Also tricked her into thinking it was /her/ discovery, and maybe even that she was succeeding where Shadow Weaver had failed before, if necessary.

That's why she's so excited to share their results with everybody, and Shadow Weaver cuts her off, apparently just to antagonize her for fun, but I'm suggesting it was also because for her this is the culmination of a decades-long plan, and she wants to Get On With It.

It's also interesting that there was a mural depicting the Spell of Obtainment in the hallway leading to the failsafe. It was a reminder of Shadow Weaver's past, and an opportunity for her to show she regrets her results but doesn't repent from her choices, which i quite like actually. But I'm also saying that, meta-textually, it was a signal that she'd been there before, literally.

And then there is the potential in-universe connection, since we don't know what exactly the spell was meant to be obtaining. Power, for sure, and from what happened we're probably meant to assume it's tapping into some sort of demonic entity or dimension.

Fair enough, except that it never comes up again. And it's kind of a big plot point that Etheria is isolated from the rest of the cosmos, which may or may not conflict with it having a contactable "hell". Meanwhile there's the Heart of Etheria Project collecting all that magic, which Mara's allies (and their descendants) would know something about, have access to at least one backdoor to, and may well have tried to tap into its power at some point.

And then what went wrong may well be one of the defense mechanisms of the Project, though I'm admittedly veering into unfounded speculation.

So, a rough timeline. Light Spinner was always motivated to excel and craved power. She was probably always envied the princesses, who command greater magic than most sorcerers with apparently none of the study and practice.

She took to researching everything she could that might lead to power, eventually discovering the chamber with the failsafe, and presumably other information left by Mara's Friends, either in other chambers or in documents she's since removed. She would have learned a lot of things from this.

As i suggested, i believe she knew there's some connection between the princesses at large and the Heart of Etheria. Incidentally, i don't know exactly what that connection is, and in particular whether princesses were created by the Project or an existing phenomenon that the First Ones co-opted. But it doesn't matter, exactly.

What's important is that there's clearly a connection, more specifically a control system for the princesses and their magic, which is presumably related to how Shadow Weaver was able to tap into the Black Garnet's power. With Hordak's help, obviously, since she clearly believed it when he claimed he could cut her off at will, but he's later shown to have basically no understanding of First Ones' tech, so the knowledge must have come from her.

For the record, i would guess she thinks princesses are artificial, empowered both magically and politically to keep the planet in check, and that they would be depowered once the failsafe was fired. I also think that may be true, actually, since it almost happened when Entrapta was messing with the system, and if i recall none of them were shown to use any magic after Adora did fire it, while she clearly used Perfuma's power. But anyways!

Back to what Shadow Weaver learned, she would know some of what the failsafe does, namely disrupt the system that's hoarding most of the planet's magic, thereby spreading magic to all (most notably her), and some of how to use it, and the fact that she couldn't do so and hope to live, and some of the criteria for who can. That part is important.

But first, she also learned the Spell of Obtainment, deemed it more likely but didn't think she could do it herself, despaired of getting help until she thought Hordak's rise to fame would give her #casus belli#, lost her patience when the Mystacor leadership disagreed, etc etc etc. Pretty uncontroversial in this part, i think.

After she'd joined the Horde, when Hordak showed up with baby Adora and wanted to lump her with the rest of the orphans they have, Shadow Weaver pleaded to have her get special treatment. She even said that she's special, and it couldn't have been her leadership skills or good heart, since she didn't have either yet. It's heavily implied she could recognize her as a First One, but it's not clear why she would care, since they were known for leaving behind advanced technology, which a baby also doesn't have. Unless, of course, she knew there are devices only a First One could use, and maybe has plans related to that.

So I'm pretty sure she learned the criteria that the failsafe requires, devised some spell or technique to check people for them that she pretty much used all the time, just in case, and was very surprised when a newborn tested positive. She was also surprised when Hordak made her personally responsible for the raising of the kid, but her reaction is pretty much "ok, that could work, i guess".

Also also, i suspect she can read First One script. Not perfectly like Adora, but better than Bow's parents probably. Mostly because when she puts Adora's hand on the crystal and says "i think you know the password", that seems like a very transparent attempt to pretend she knows it too when she doesn't. But that seems irresponsible at such a crucial moment, she and Castaspella should really have researched it earlier. Or at least her line there should have been "you can read this, right?" or somesuch.

So I'm thinking it's a double bluff, hoping everybody assumes she doesn't know so she doesn't have to reveal how and why she knows, again.

And that's all i have, i think? This is not nearly as well laid out as i would like. But then, nothing ever is, right?

Also it's not even close to morning anymore. Thank you if you even got this far, and have a good evening!

hi!!! this took me a while to answer, i'm so sorry about that <3

i'm very low on energy today so i cannot summon up the brain energy to respond properly to this, as much as i want to, i'm really sorry for that as well

i love this theory!! it actually fits in really well with canon and makes, like, a LOT of sense now that i think about it. i definitely wouldn't have thought of this on my own, so thank you for sharing this with me!! :D

[leahseclipse]

Confessions, surprises and joyful events

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: What worse thing could happen other than calm and nice coffee dates when the genius resident happens to forget items when suddenly called in, causing their secret to come out?

Warnings: Mentions of losing someone, death (not concerning any of the characters); usual cm stuff, but otherwise, its just fluff

Category: Fluff

Word count: 13.5k

A/N: And here’s the last fic of this ‘kinda’ series!!! yesh I know the summary sucks LMAO, but- I hope you guys will like it, I apologize if some moments are ehhh, especially towards the end, I’ve been working on it for a while and as the total is 25k, I really had no other idea, I really drained them all into that massive one- 

And that one is still attached to the prevs fics I had wrote for the fic swap for @sunlight-moonrise​ :)

 Continuation of Dear diary, and Souvenirs, secrets and coffee dates

This night went better than expected. We didn’t go to bed at 2 -for once-, but around 11:30 PM, so even if it’s still late, it’s better than nothing.

Considering all of the stuff we have to do today, and probably in the next few days, we couldn’t allow ourselves to go to bed at the hour people usually get up for work, such as 6AM...or more.

And it would also be a lie to say that we didn’t go to bed at this hour once.

Nonetheless, we both were excited about the activities of the day, and if I’m not wrong, we’re at our fourth coffee mission-date. 

Yeah, none of us figured out a proper and official title for it, so we’ve just been altering between dates and mission. 

At the same time, it’s a date, it’s been a while since we haven’t got to have a moment to ourselves, and it’s also -as said- a mission. We like to set small challenges, especially when we happen to have time like this week.

Talking about this week, I have to admit that not receiving a call has stayed quite surprising, even now. Before we had the idea of doing our coffee dates, I had just come back from almost two weeks of work. 

I had been away for a week, had just three days of ‘vacation time’, and had been called back for another week. So, I think that it's not weird at all to be surprised, all of us probably are.

I just hope they won’t decide to have a party or something, because I can never find myself to refuse and find a proper excuse that doesn’t raise suspicions, now that I have a girlfriend.

I can’t believe that I almost used Ethan as an excuse to not attend once, and the idiot I am forgot he happened to be in New Orleans at this time.

Basically all planes were cancelled because of the weather, and if I had happened to let his name slip, as they probably know that I know him, they would have wanted to know more...especially Penelope. 

And the idiot I still am would have tried to find another excuse, that -of course- would have miserably failed as well.

I just hope we’ll get to have a few more days before I eventually get called back, it’d be nice. 

It’d also be nice if I would stop to think about a possible call, because if y/n would hear me she’d complain about me bringing bad luck. 

Normally as it is only some superstitions, it doesn’t happen, but again -as expected-, last time when I had said that a possible call was coming, I received one just two days later.

So, I think that I’m gonna pass on this subject.

I also wish I didn’t have to be the one responsible for waking her up; she’s...quite difficult when it comes to that, and most of the time, we’ll either end up being 30 minutes late, or just not go where we had to at all.

But since what we were supposed to do was important, she really had to get up, even if I had to drag her out of the bed.

“Y/N, come on, I’ve been trying to get you out of the bed since nine, and even gave you twenty minutes more.”

“Jus’ a bit more…”

“Alright, I’ll go to the library all day then.”

“No, you’re stayin’ with me.” She said, as she sat up and grabbed my sleeve. 

“You want me to help you get ready?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay, give me your hand.” I extended mine, as she lazily took it. “There you go sleepy head.” 

“I’m not a sleepy head. It’s my morning head, that’s all.”

“Your morning head is a sleepy one.”

“No, it’s a well-rested one.”

“Okay, you won the fight.”

“I always win arguments.” She proudly announced, while she got up, stretching up a bit. “So...are we going to the one we saw on internet yesterday, it really had good reviews, and a nice website, which is...a good sign usually.”

“Yeah, it is. It really sounded nice, plus I think I’ve heard about it from other people, and they’ve had pretty good experiences. I say we go for it, might as well enjoy it before...work calls again.”

“You’re going to bring us bad luck, stop with that.”

“It counts for you as well. You mentioned it yesterday.”

“...I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“No, I’m sure your brain is tricking you.”

“Once again, I am sure it’s not. I know my brain well, and it never lies.”

“Pff, you know your brain? I’ve never heard such a ridiculous thing.”

“Says the-girl-who-forgets-her-stuff.”

“Hey! Don’t use that nickname, the diary story was an accident.”

“You didn’t trust yourself enough that you had to give me your number.”

“No, it wasn’t for that, I just wanted to chat.”

“Even years later, you still lie.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Mhm.”

“Okay, one more remark, and instead of going out, I’m making you clean my whole apartment for a week.”

“...I’m going to get ready.”

“That’s what I thought genius.”

“Why am I being called ‘genius’ when I’m not supposed to call you ‘the-girl-who-forgets-her-stuff?’, hm?” I joked.

“Everyone calls you genius at work, see it as a third name.”

“Then if what I call you is your name, it’s kind of long. Y/N, Y/M/N, the-girl-who-forgets-her-stuff, Y/L/N.”

“Okay, if I stop using genius, will you stop with that?”

“...maybe.” I answered, as she hit me with her shirt. “Okay, okay! I’ll stop!”

“You’re really nice when you want, see?”

“I’m not a puppy either.”

“You have puppy eyes, same stuff.” She briefly said.

“Who says?”

“Me.” 

“Only you is not enough to be convincing.”

“Who says?” She repeats.

“Do you want me to get the excuse I took at the library?”

“Which?” Y/N asked, visibly confused.

“That you had to be more polite, else, I won’t listen.”

“I’m going to warm up the car.” She grabs the keys, changing the subject.

“I love to mess with you.”

“Shut up.” She says before leaving, earning a sneaky laugh from me.

++

When I had gotten out of the building after a few minutes, I swore that Y/N could have left without me if I would have tried to mess with her again.

She didn’t though, but she warned me (jokingly, she had said…), that she wouldn’t have hesitated a bit.

In most cases, she really isn’t kidding, and wasn’t at all this time.

The only thing I got when I had gotten in the car was a hit on the arm, that...kinda still hurt for a bit even after a few minutes. 

But, we both know it wasn’t serious. We often do that, and we usually make jokes like ‘I’m going to murder you and pretend someone killed you in the night’, ‘I’m gonna have Hotch yell at you by making you late’, or even, her favorite one, ‘I’m gonna steal your phone and announce our relationship.’.

Which….when it was told after a few months we began dating, would stop the teasing from me, and end in a fit of laughter, as we would discuss it; and jump to other subjects.

That joke is less...uncomfortable, or the kind to stop the conversation, as we really talked about it, and kind of planned to say it before we’d end up married with two kids.

I know that they’ll be happy whether I announce it while she’s my girlfriend, or my wife, and mother of my kids, but still, it’s been a while, and I think that they deserve to know, they’re like family to me. 

Even my mother, who had just met them a few times, appreciates them a lot.

But once they’ll know, Y/N will have to prepare herself; because she’s gonna receive a lot of questions from Garcia, who’s probably going to get her to come as often as possible; some messages from the team, a lot of invitations, because to be honest, they’ll all be really surprised that I got a girlfriend, and as it’s been a while, they’ll have a lot to ask and tell.

I just hope that they won’t...mention what happened in my early days.

Some stories are kind of embarrassing, and not really nice to recall to me.

Knowing Morgan’s, he’s either going to mention what happened with Lila Archer, or the gun qualification that I failed (but, that I got, after I shot between a guy’s eyes in one shot, so this story will only be half bad). 

...he could also tell both.

But, I know for sure that they’ll welcome her with open arms. They’ll really appreciate her.

She’s done a lot for me, and I can really say that she...somehow made my life better, in a way (She says that I’m cheesy, when I say that).

I honestly have no idea what would have happened if she took her diary back before I even got to see it, I would have never paid attention to the shop on my way as usual, I would only go to the library for the usual reason, my life wouldn’t have changed even a bit. 

I like to say that fate has reunited us, but in another way, I like that she happened to be so distracted to the point of forgetting it.

I can’t really imagine having to not see her anymore; we’ve been so used to each other that we constantly have to see each other, and at least hear the other’s voice if I’m at work.

Literally, all of the free time that we have, it’s spent with the other.

We also happen to hang out with our friends, but most of the time; we’re always together.

I noticed that we don’t tend to go outside often, we both prefer to stay outside, and once, we even cancelled plans at the restaurant at the last minute as we were both too lazy to even get ready.

That also happened in the morning; none of us had work, and we decided to spend most of the day in bed, and we didn't do even anything till a few hours, we just talked and cuddled.

So, these coffee dates are kind of a miracle; because knowing our shared laziness, we wouldn’t have done that at all.

It’s our fourth one today, and it's going pretty well.

I’ve thrown facts the whole time, and she didn’t mind.

She actually asked for others, at each of them.

Y/N was totally into it.

And that kind of made me laugh, I even said that she looked like a nerd, or even a teacher’s pet.

That’s why we enjoyed it, we laughed a lot during those, and actually planned to go outside more, which is...totally crazy.

I don’t know what is happening to us, but, some miracle fought off our laziness, and now, we’re going outside a lot.

Our coffee dates also made y/n drive more.

She would never touch the wheel, unless if it was at 1am for emergency snacks, and now, she insists every time.

I think I’ve only driven at the first, but not fully, as she took over on the way back.

We’ve also discovered a lot of coffee shops, I’ve walked in front of some, but never actually went inside. 

I guess our coffee dates are mainly us, testing out what they have, and when we’ll run out of shops; we’ll basically try to choose the best.

She even purchased a notebook for us to put our ratings in.

I really never saw her taking something so seriously.

She also created another folder on her phones, with a lot of pics. The majority of them have my face, and she took most of them when I was looking away.

Y/N mentioned that she really likes my side profile, which at the moment was...kind of weird, but, I got used to it, and even looked on the side on purpose as I knew she’d taken a picture without fail.

I think that she has one where I’m turning around; she didn’t get to take my side profile before I turned, it was kind of blurry, but I insisted on keeping it.

We might print the pictures and make a scrapbook at this point; it would be fun.

I know she’ll like the idea.

“Okay, so...are we ordering one of the basics, or are we going a bit fancy today?” Y/N asked.

“Go for the fancy option, that’ll change.”

“Alright, you go get settled, and I’ll be right back.” She said, kissing my nose at “right”. I always like that.

She knows every single thing that makes me happy. It’s kind of crazy, she almost knows me better than I do.

I’m also pretty sure she knows that I hate when she goes away, even if she’s two meters away, and is going to come back in just a bit.

I just really like to be with her, and this might be childish or something, but I almost got her late once because I didn’t want her to go yet once.

At least I won’t have to do that this week. None of us have work, and I just have to hope I won’t be called in.

I’m the only one that could completely cancel our plans, and even though I know she won’t be angry as we managed to get five days without a call disturbing us, it’ll still somehow leave a bitter feeling.

She told me to stop worrying, and just, enjoy the moment, but I just can’t help but think about it, and even though she’s not a profiler, she can tell when I’m worrying about something.

So, might as well quit worrying, and just enjoy our dates, because always thinking about the calls might end up bringing us bad luck as she constantly says.

Y/N even has a sticky note on her desk counting how many times I’ve either worried about it, and brought up the subject.

So far...I’ve said it about seven times, and it’ll probably turn to eight if she notices.

“You know, you can say it if there’s something wrong.” 

There goes the possible eighth time.

“Oh, sorry, what did you say?”

“I see it that something is bothering you. Did you prefer us to stay home today?”

“No, no, not at all! I really wanted to go out with you. It’s not the problem.”

“So, what’s the actual problem?”

“You know it.”

“Oh, quit that cellphone. Just smash it on the ground and wait for them to come.”

“You know that’s not how it works.”

“That’s the only wait for you to stop worrying. That’s the eighth time.”

“It’s not even the eighth at this point, it’s the fortieth.”

“Or the hundredth.”

“Yeah, I got it. I worry a lot.”

“I’m not even a profiler and I can just tell like that. Quit your job and let me take your spot, I’m gonna impress them all.”

“Are you going to enjoy the ‘waking up at 4am’, ‘being away for a week’, ‘risking getting killed’ parts though?”

“...not the ‘4am’ one, no.”

“Try applying as a secretary, maybe. It’s calm.”

“If I have enough of my job at the craft job, okay. I’ll make sure to be in the same section. I’m gonna be the best secretary they’ll ever see.”

“You’re going to make us late though. When I’ll have to leave you’re gonna try to get a few more seconds to talk with me.”

“I may.”

“Hotch’s not going to like this.”

“Eh, he won’t say anything. We’re two young people in love, so, if he doesn’t have a rock heart as...you always tell me how strict he’s...he’ll be okay with it.”

“Not if it happens a lot. I tell you. Hotch isn’t kidding when it comes to that. He may accept some occasional late reports, but not a late arrival when we have to immediately go on the field.”

“Okay, then I won’t do it.”

“...one or two times won’t hurt. If we do one a week, and the other two weeks and...a half later, maybe it’ll pass. Who knows?” I suggested.

“I don’t want you to get fired. This job is important.”

“...yeah, kind of.”

“Plus, we have to tell them, at least before you get fired.” She joked.

“If I get fired, I won’t have to tell them as I won’t see them as often as I want. I’ll have another job and we’ll all be busy.”

“It’s kind of smart but...don’t you dare do that. That’s not genius.”

“You suggested something, and I went along with it. You started it, not me.”

“A suggestion isn’t an obligation, or a serious thing. I never forced you to do it. It was only “if”, never said anything serious.”

“You know that I always take you seriously.”

“Too seriously that you couldn’t catch jokes.”

“I understood it, I just played along with you.”

“If I hadn’t interrupted you, it looked like you would have almost done it.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Mhm.”

“Did you really think I’d do it?”

“Knowing you...there was a chance you would have done it. A slim one.”

“Really?”

“Yep.” She honestly answered, taking a sip of her coffee as she kept her glance on me.

“I wouldn’t do it, it was only a joke, nothing more. Even if it’s...full of pretty big risks, I still enjoy it.”

“It’s scary as hell, yeah. And even though I’m not with you, I still feel the stress.”

“I have to admit that I scared you...a lot.”

“You bet. The ‘out of battery’ days really scared me.”

“Yeah, sorry for that.”

“It’s okay, I’m not mad. You’re still there, and now we’re on...I still didn’t find a name for it.”

“What was the original name already?” I asked.

“Coffee mission slash dates. Not amazing.”

“We can’t really settle on only one at the same time.”

“We can’t. But at the same moment, we kind of have to choose one.”

“Coffee mission slash dates isn’t the best, but it’s the only thing we could think about, it’s better than not having one.”

“You’re kinda right. It’s okay if we keep that one.”

“I guess so.”

“By the way, as...I see we’re basically done. What are we saying for this one? Do you want to try something else before we write our review?” She asked.

“We can have another one. Only roughly 80 to 100 cups of coffee would turn into a lethal dose, so...it should be okay.”

“It’s kind of morbid, and creepy.”

“It’s still useful to know it.”

“I didn’t need to know that my source of energy can kill me. Now I think that I may have to slow down.”

“It can kill me too. I drink way too much when I’m at work then at home.”

“Imagine that the autopsy guy has to say to your family that you died because of a caffeine overdose. That’d be...either dumb, or embarassing. Gosh, it’s not funny.”

“Yeah, sorry. That fact was just stuck in my head.”

“Choose less morbid ones next time.”

“Don’t worry-”

“Yeah. So, uh, didn’t you say you wanted to try that one too? It sounds cool.”

“Why not, okay.”

“Okay, I’m going. You stay there.”

“But- You don’t have to.”

“I’m going, it’s okay.”

“Pff, ok. You can go.”

“I’ll be right back anyway. Don’t be sad.”

“I’m not sad.”

“Is that so? You should have seen your face.”

“I wasn’t sad.”

“If you say so.” She said, before leaving as she headed to the counter again.

We’re really little kids sometimes.

Maybe that’s why we get along.

We’re more childish than serious most of the time.

On that, we’re kind of equal I’d say, but...it depends.

I’m the childish one these days.

I still haven’t found a way to announce her to them, because...even if I really like them, I still don’t really want to.

It’s mostly for security reasons, with all that happened during my years, I’m kind of afraid.

I’ll have to tell them one day, eventually though.

They’re gonna bug me even more if I wait too much.

“Stop overthinking.” Y/N interrupted, as she set the two cups on the table.

“I can’t.”

“You have to, eventually. If this is about the cellphone, or not having enough dates, or even, that we have to tell them, you have to stop. We already had four, it’s a miracle.”

“To be honest, yeah. I wouldn’t hope we’ll have more.”

“What about we tell them if we get another one?”

“I’m gonna receive a call before.”

“No, we won’t. I’m the one between the two of us that bring us luck. So, we’ll have our fifth one.”

“Okay, we’ll see. Even if I’m not really sure. But, I hope we do though.”

“I can guarantee we’ll have it. Now drink your coffee before it gets cold.”

“Cold coffee isn’t bad.”

“Yes it is! That one isn’t meant to be drunk cold. If it had ice, then yeah.”

“Stop criticizing my choices, it’s not nice!”

“Your choices are so bad that I have to be on your back.”

“You’re not my mom.”

“...you sure about that? I’ve acted as your mom a lot of times because of some of your choices. I don’t even remember them all, there’s so many.”

“Not a lot. That’s why you don’t remember.”

“I don’t have your brain, but I remember some.”

“I’m not that immature, and...irresponsible.”

“Okay, you’re not that immature. I exaggerated.”

“It’s nice of you to admit your mistake.” I joked.

“I’m gonna take my words back, be careful. I might not even wake you up if you get a call. That way you’ll have Hotch yell at you.”

“You’ll make coffee for yourself, that’ll wake me up.”

“How?”

“The smell of coffee can help you wake up in the morning.”

“Hm. Guess we don’t need alarms then. You’ll build us a machine that automatically starts the machine and we’ll be up in no time.”

“At this rate, we could also install a webcam in front of it, if we do it every morning, at each nap, and all day.

“A webcam?”

“I saw somewhere that people working at the University of Cambridge knew the feeling of finding an empty coffee pot so well, that they invented the first ever webcam with the sole purpose of checking the status of the coffee pot.”

“That’s actually kinda smart.”

“I know, right? That way we don’t have to check, but the one that’ll have to fill it back up will receive tons of notifications, so it'll kind of be annoying.”

“...yeah. I don’t want it anymore.”

“You’ll probably be the one receiving the notifications more often since you’ll be home.”

“That’s why I changed my mind. I don’t want you to see how often I drink, because...trust me it’s a lot.”

“...I do the same at work.”

“That’s why we get along. We get each other, basically have the same habits. We’re the perfect couple.”

“You kind of sound drunk when you say that, I don’t know. It sounds like something you’d say while being drunk.” 

“Kind of, yeah.” She agreed, laughing. “Throw another fact, we’ll continue in the car.”

“Let me think...oh, I got one. From statistics, the average American spends around $20 a week on coffee, which is around...$1.092 per year. Yikes.”

“What keeps us awake when we’re running on two hours of sleep makes us broke. Cool.”

“That’s where our salaries go.” 

“...yep. That’s where. Surprise.”

“I don’t think they’ll really be surprised. Look how many hours we sleep. My sleep schedule is already buried.”

“Yeah, it is. Remember all the days where we went to bed at 1am and you got woken up at 4am? The next days were hell to stay awake.”

“...I remember. I hate those days. if I get a phone call, let me have five or six hours at least.”

“I’m starting to wonder if they’re not spying on us to see at which hour we go to bed.”

“Same. It happened way too many times. It’s getting quite...annoying.”

“Not really for me, I’d wake up because of the phone one time out of two. It was more annoying when I’d wake up to see I was alone.”

“You’d have a note, at least.”

“Yep, but....wasn’t amazing.”

“You would have been angry either way if I would have woken you up.”

“I would have gone straight back, yeah. You’re not wrong.”

“I’m always right. I’m not the best in the whole FBI building for nothing.”

“Quit showing off. We know you’re smart.”

“It was just in case you forgot.”

“How could I forget? You tell me that you have an 187 IQ without telling it every time you speak. It’s kind of obvious that you’re not an idiot to me.”

“You’re smart too, you could figure out that I was.”

“Is there a meaning behind that or…?”

“Why would there be one y/n?”

“I don’t know. You sound...narcissistic, and it was kind of like...you told I was dumb, Reid.”

“No, you’re not! I was kidding.”

“Mhm.”

“Okay, I’m sorry if I sounded ‘narcissistic’, it wasn’t my intention, I was just kidding.”

“I just have trouble knowing if you’re joking or not sometimes. But, you are forgiven, doctor.”

“It’s weird hearing you say that. Why don’t you just say ‘Spencer’?”

“Doctor, and Reid are more...fancy.”

“Okay, if you like it.”

“I do like it.”

“Then I don’t have anything to say on it.”

“Indeed.” She proudly replied.

“You know that I really like you?"

"I do." She answered, her shy smile breaking into a bigger one.

"Are you okay with uh...cheesy stuff? Because like, it kind of is."

"I've always had a liking for these, so I don't mind at all."

"Oh- okay, I was afraid you wouldn't uh…."

"...like it? Of course I do. I always like it when you say that you love me."

"I can't say otherwise, or even refrain myself from saying it. When I see you smile, I just...you know. I really like to see you happy."

"You're gonna make me cry Spencer- I spent a while doing my makeup." She joked.

"Okay, I'll wait until we're at home then."

"Okay."

++

"It's kinda good that we came in early. Coffee is better when it's taken between 9:30 to 11:30AM from what I saw."

"...really? There's a 'good timing' for it to be more effective? It's weird."

"Kind of. If you're tired at 11pm and decide to drink it, it's only gonna work at 50%."

"For real...it's annoying. Especially for you, your shifts are long as hell. I'm sorry for all the times I yelled at you over the phone."

"You had your reasons, I'm the best at getting people worried to death." He said, as he got his eyes back on the road after briefly shaking his head at her.

"Can't deny." 

"No one can't."

"The number of times when you only had a battery problem, gosh. I wanted to kill you because of these." 

"You didn't kill me, I'm still here."

"I can still kill you, if you want. I might have a pocket knife somewhere."

"No- I take it back, it's ok. I'm good." I said, "panicking".

"Hm. Too bad. It was a new one, 'wanted to try it on." 

"...that's not really reassuring y/n."

"At least you'll be even more careful." She said, throwing me a sneaky smile.

"...will do."

"Good to know."

"I was going to say that you were going to be the death of me, but I'm already doing that to you with my job. Guess I'll have to find something else."

"You're gonna have to think hard. Because from what you said, your job is superior to everything in terms of scaring the death out of people."

"The #1."

"Premium #1. It's a better term." She corrected.

"...do you still love me though?"

"Of course, that's why I haven't killed you yet."

"I'm gonna have to sleep with one eye tonight."

"It's gonna be creepy man. I won't kill you, so, don't do that...please"

"I love how it's easy to make you change your mind with things you hate."

"I can still change my mind, even if I hate it."

"...sorry." I apologized with a tiny voice, which caused us to break into laughter for a minute, before I stopped before y/n, who still had a bit of trouble to stop laughing. "Do I need to call 911 or is everything okay?"

"It's just- your tiny voice is always fun as hell- gosh, I really had a good laugh."

"We don't need much to laugh apparently.' I pointed out.

"How can anybody not laugh at that? The way you said it was amazing."

"I'm gonna be offended if you keep laughing at me."

"I can't promise you I won't laugh again ah that."

"If you laugh at my voice, I'm allowed to laugh at you when you fall out of bed then."

"Okay, deal. You're allowed." 

"At least it's even. But- you can't go back on that, you said you agreed on it."

"I promise, I'm not going back on it." She confirmed.

“Okay, just so it’s clear.”

“It is. I granted you permission to laugh at me.”

“I never granted you permission and you did it a lot of times, that’s not fair.”

“I’m allowed to laugh at you, it’s not the same. I have a special “nice girlfriend” pass.”

“...okay you have a point.”

“I’ve always had it. I’m smart, maybe smarter than you. The FBI should seriously hire me, they’re missing out without me.”

“We’re never going to be able to focus if we work together.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to present me.”

“Prepare yourself in advance. Once they’ll get your number, you’re gonna be overwhelmed with texts. They’re gonna want to know about the secret I kept.”

“Don’t worry about that, I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I may have to go there myself if you chicken out.”

“Hey, that’s not nice. I’m hurt.”

“Okay- I may have to go there myself if you don’t resolve yourself to do it- oh, it’s the same. Even if I word it differently, it’s the same.”

“I’m mad at you.”

“No, you’re not. You love me too much to be mad at me.”

“...how do you know everything about me? I’m scared.”

“I hacked into your brain.”

“Clearly.” I said; nervously laughing. “What do you think would be the password of my brain?”

“Um...either a doctor who or star trek related thing.”

“Hm. Maybe. It’s kinda difficult though; I like a lot of things. I’d probably end up putting your name if I can’t decide.”

“Yeah, same. There’s so much stuff.”

“If I take all of the books, tv shows, writers….yeah. Your name.”

“I’d probably struggle too. Your name.” She repeated.

“Isn’t it risky to let the other know our passwords?”

“I mean...we share the same brain cells sometimes, we’re 24/7 together, we’re interested in the same stuff so...eh. Not really.”

“That’s fair enough to be honest. I still remember last time; when we forgot to take the pasta out of the water because a video on twitter distracted us.”

“...I remember that. We had to order takeout after.”

“And the takeout wasn’t that good. I would have prefered the over-boiled pasta.”

“Same...these $35 weren’t that worth it.”

“$5 dollar over boiled pasta would have been better.”

“Yeah, it would have. But, let’s not try to forget it tonight. Over-boiled pasta isn’t my favorite thing.”

“Then we’ll have to turn off all of our devices.”

“...yeah. Let’s hope the clock won’t fail on us.”

“I’m not even sure if we have batteries left, and the store is closed.”

“Guess it’s gonna be one hell of a night.” She pointed out, as the car came to a stop.

“You said it.” I answered, as we both exited the car.

++

“Spencer, hey, wake up.”

“What’s...going on?”

“ ‘thing’s ringing.”

“What the…?” He mumbled as he took his phone from his nightstand, rubbing his eyes. “Oh, come on.”

“Guess we’re not having our fifth date.”

“...guess not. This sucks, I’m sorry.”

“ ‘s not your fault. At least let me have a quick hug before you go for god knows how long.”

“Just one, I really have to go.” I precised, wrapping my arms around her waist, as she put her head in the crook of my neck. 

“I’m gonna miss you Spence.”

“Me too. I promise it won’t be too long.”

“Mhm. Oh, at least it’s not 4AM.”

“Yeah, it kind of surprised me to see that it was 9AM.”

“Same. Are you directly going on the jet or are you gonna uh...what’s the thing, briefing at the office?”

“Uh, yeah, Morgan told me to go to the office first.”

“Okay, call me before you go then.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll call.” I reassured, kissing her on the cheek as I sprinted through the hall. “Have a good day!”

“Same!” She yelled, as I closed the door.

What a great week ahead of us.

I annoyedly sighed as I got out of the building, taking the car as she had mentioned that she wouldn’t need it today.

I kind of felt bad, we had taken a small break on coffee mission-dates as we didn’t feel like it, and in the meantime, she also went to work for a day as a coworker needed someone to replace her, and after that, just when we planned to go out again...my phone rang, which was nothing but good.

I’ll make sure to call her as often as I can, that’s the least I can do till I come back.

++

As he left, I kind of ‘slept’ for at least ten minutes before I even found the motivation to get out of bed, which was kind of hard.

I’m really attached to my bed, and it’s really complicated for me to get up in the morning, Spencer helps me out usually.

It’s a miracle I managed to get out before falling back asleep and waking up at 12, especially on my own.

It’s kind of a great achievement to be honest, I should call him later to…

I paused, as I saw what seemed like his phone on the table.

...guess I’m not gonna call him.

What the hell am I going to do?

I can’t go there, no one even knows me.

Why did he have to forget his damn phone? 

He doesn’t even have another one, how the hell am I going to do to get it to him?

I just...know his code, he randomly told it to me, and he knows mine too, so...yeah.

For god’s sake, I’m gonna have to call in, ‘I’m a cousin, friend, whatever’ excuse is gonna have to be the one I’m gonna throw.

Now or never I guess.

I turned on the phone, entering the password as I opened the contacts app, not really knowing who to call.

He had mentioned that Hotch was his superior, but I would be a stressed mess the second he’d begin taking, and it wouldn’t do anything but waste time.

What about Penelope? She seemed quite nice from his sayings, I could possibly reach out to her.

Let’s give it a try, I guess.

I clicked on the contact, pressing the call button as I brought the phone to my ear.

“Spencer, why are you calling? Aren’t you with Luke in the conference room?”

“It’s not Reid, I’m...a friend. He forgot his phone...and his badge thingy at my place, I saw the second thing as I called. I uh...didn't know he was working so I went to his place, and I guess he’s at work now.”

“Huh, he never forgets it. That’s weird. But, I never heard about you, are you like...a school pal or whatever person he met at a library or other?”

“Uh...We knew each other at school, yeah- anyway, is there a way for me to take it to him? I’ve...never been to his place, you know.”

“Oh uh...I can go see him, he’s right there. You could come here, but...I don’t know if you’re cleared to go here. Let me...oh, is your name y/n...y/l/n?”

“Yeah- did he put me in his emergency contacts or…?”

“Well, you’re in the visitor lists, so, I guess so, in a way, yeah. You must be an important friend then.”

“Yeah- we know...each other for a while- yeah.”

“That’s weird, he never mentioned you. I’ll have to ask about you later, I’m kind of interested.”

“Yeah- uh, he’s working at the FBI building, right? What floor is it even?”

“Yes, it’s that. It’s the sixth, you’ll have to hurry though, they should be going soon.”

“I’ll be right there. See you...I guess.”

“See you there!”

Oh god, that was the most stressful situation- how did I not panic? Did she find the fact that I’m able to enter his apartment weird and suspect I’m his partner? Am I supposed to be panicked or chill about it?

Shit.

**

As the briefing who lasted a bit more than planned came to his end, as I briefly checked my bag to see if everything was in it, my phone and badge were missing.

How did I forget them? I swore that I had taken it before leaving.

How can I even do? 

I could possibly attempt a quick trip to my apartment, but that'd only be a waste of time.

I sighed as I climbed down the stairs, suddenly getting interrupted by the sound of a nearby elevator when I happened to walk in that direction before.

I...regret not thinking in advance about my words, as...people were behind me.

“Oh, hey babe- what’s...” I said as soon as she appeared, as I was coming to the realization that I had...messed up when the expressions around me changed. “...up.”

“...hey.” Y/N quietly said after noticing the look on everyone’s faces. 

“Did he- is she?” Luke asked, confused.

“I- You forgot this- these.” She informed, taking the two items in her hand as she handed them to me.

‘What are we supposed to do?’ I inclined my head to the side, frowning my eyebrows.

‘I don’t know!’ She shrugged.

“Oh- are you his friend I had on the phone?” A blonde chirped, walking in.

“It’s ‘girlfriend’, apparently.” Luke corrected.

“But- So-”

“She’s my girlfriend, yeah. I didn’t tell you for..reasons, and-”

“You guys should go- We’ll talk all about this when we get back.” Y/N interrupted.

“Reid's been hiding you, and you don’t think I want to know about that?” Penelope asked.

“But- you’re working on a case, I’m not supposed to-”

“If it’s FBI shit, you’ll just put your hands over your ears and close your eyes, it’s okay.” She waved it off, pulling her aside as they went in the elevator.

“I’ll see you later Spence.”

“Okay, see you-” I said, as the door closed. “No- No questions. Not know.”

“We didn’t set anything.” JJ answered.

“...yet.” Emily continued.

++

“So, what happened? We didn’t see anything, I mean- I kind of suspected...sometimes but-”

“It’s...kind of long. I mean you have work and-”

“I can do two things at the same time.”

“Well uh...we didn’t know each other at first.”

“So like- it’s a fate thing or-”

“Maybe? I mean- I lost my diary at the library, I forgot it when I went to work, and he told me that he found it, didn’t want it to get lost, and so, he asked around where I could be found and, we met.”

“It sounds like cinderella.”

“...kind of. Never thought about that.”

“It really is, like- if you had never lost it, he’d just be a guy sitting with his book.”

“I wouldn’t have the courage to talk to him, because...I think I would have found him interesting.”

“You can thank your brain for making you forget about it. You got a nice boyfriend because of it- wait, I didn’t ask if you were-”

“We’re not engaged yet-”

“I’m gonna tell him to hurry as soon as I get a call with him- How did he not already propose to you?”

“It’s okay- It’s only been one year and a few months, we have-”

“Please let me plan the wedding.”

“It can wait I’m-”

“I have to plan it.”

“Okay but-”

“You’re gonna have to get used to here, you’re gonna come...quite often. Maybe with my apartment too, and Rossi’s. He organizes amazing game nights, it’s always fun.”

“...that’s why Spencer told me to prepare myself-”

“We’re not gonna let you go for a while. I bet they’re harassing him with questions right now.”

“I don’t have anything else today so- guess I’ll be staying for a bit. I’ll have to go later, though. For like- sleeping and all.”

“Will you come back tomorrow?”

“I have work...the craft shop I told you about.”

“Oh- then keep going with the story then-”

“You sure- you-”

“They’re not calling yet. Keep going.”

“Okay- so, he went to the shop…asked where he could find me, as he had something belonging to me- I was in the storage room and my coworker came saying someone had a thing that was mine, and recognized the thing as she saw me with it before. I went to the front- where he was, she left and uh...he gave it back to me. We briefly talked and, as he left I asked him his name- as he knew mine, and...he left.”

“That idiot didn’t ask for your number?”

“He could have come back, I don’t know. He knew where to find me, and...same for me. Next uh...we both had work, I suppose for him, too. And as I got a day off, I went back to the library to also thank the employee that had told him where to find me...and he came again.”

“What happened next? I need to know-”

“Uh- I think we uh...stayed there, for a while, actually. Until we were told that it’d close, and...hung out together till...almost 2AM.”

“Did you-”

“No- just talking. We barely met, we wouldn’t- We were going to go out on a date...later. I asked him first.”

“You did? Oh my god that’s so cute!”

"That was kind of stressful. You don't get to ask guys out pretty often."

"Was Reid your first boyfriend?"

"As a serious relationship, yeah. All of the others were in high school but...they were all idiots. Spencer's the first that...cares about me."

"He's always been very nice in general, I can guarantee that you'll never regret letting him enter in your life, he's gonna treat you like a princess."

"He's already gone through that, he's always supporting me, I...really feel safe, and loved, all the time."

"I'm glad everything's going well for you two. You could have come sooner, we've been asking him quite often if he'd ever present his partner as we were his parents."

"Yeah we- waited a while. We were actually planning on telling it, soon." 

"Well, the 'soon' arrived."

"It was kinda…"

"Unexpected? Yeah, I know."

"It really was but...it's not as stressful as I thought. I...really like it here."

"You're gonna feel home with us, too. You're already there with our genius boy. I can tell you guys really love each other."

"We do, a lot."

"I'm glad for that. You're gonna have a lot to tell every time you come here though."

"Don't worry, I'll tell you everything there is to tell, and let you plan whatever thing there would be to celebrate. Even my wedding."

"Do I really have to wait to plan it?" Penelope asked.

"We could get married in five years, who knows. Are you gonna plan it already?"

"...probably."

"Do I get to help?"

"If you have good taste, yeah."

"It shouldn't be a problem."

"So- Oh, here they are."

"And...back to work." I said.

"Wish I didn't have to now." She sighed, answering. "You've reached the office of knowledge, what can I do for you?" 

++

“So? How did it go with the team?”

“Chaotic. I wish I had taken a car or something instead of the jet who lasted way too long for just three hours.”

“Penelope already wants to plan our wedding here.”

“She did?”

“Yeah. If I didn’t stop her, she would have probably purchased dresses and called Rossi.”

“They also asked me about the wedding here.”

“What can I say? They’re really like a real family.”

“Yeah, they are. You’re gonna like them a lot.”

“I feel like it. Penelope already told me to get used to here because of how often she’ll call. I’m probably going to end up working here.”

“You don’t need to work here to see me, they know now. You’re cleared to come whenever you want.”

“If only you hadn’t- no, I would have probably jumped at your arms if I hadn’t seen them.”

“At least we don’t have to think about it for weeks, just to not say it at the end. It’s done.”

“Just a week ago, you said that you wanted for it to be special, it wasn’t very special to me.”

“It’s kind of...special. No one did that here.”

“Not the kind of ‘special’ you described.”

“It was a...surprising ‘kind of special’.”

“Did you just make that up?”

“I only had that in mind.”

“I thought that you were intelligent enough to just say ‘surprising’.”

“You asked which kind of special it was.”

“Unexpected would have been good too.”

“...yeah. I wanted to spice it up.”

“I’m giving a 7/10 to your spice.”

“That’s the average at least.”

“But- it was fine. I’m being a bit mean.”

“Are you mad it went like that though?”

“Not really. I know you wouldn’t have resolved yourself to say it, so...it’s said. They know, and...I really like them. You could have done it sooner, I missed out. They’re really like you described them to me.”

“Yeah, I would have waited...even more. Let’s hope you’ll get to pass by often, they’re gonna want to see you all the time. I’m pretty sure you have pre-invites to all of the parties they’ll ever organize.”

“At least we’ll be with other people and...do other stuff than staying all day at home, you know.”

“You’re right, yeah. I’ll diversify our days-off.”

 “Heard Rossi knows how to cook pretty good pasta; that’ll change from our failed ones.”

“...definitely. He also makes us cook with him sometimes, but...I think I’ll pass for the ‘boil the pasta’ part.”

“Same for me. I prefer not to ruin the entire thing.”

“If he teaches us, we could get better.”

“Nah...I prefer not to. I’ll stick to the ‘make the pasta’ part.”

“It’s hard to say no to Rossi in general, good luck with that.”

“Is he like everyone’s grandpa or what?”

“Uh...I guess I’d say so. You could kind of see him as that, but I don’t know if he ever allowed anyone in the team to call him like that, except for Hotch, JJ and Matt’s kids.”

“Thanks for the warning, it’s noted.”

“He’s gonna have a bunch of nicknames for you though. He likes to do that with...pretty much everyone he knows.”

“I’m okay with that, he sounds nice from what I heard from you...and Penelope. I’m gonna stay a bit more, she wants...more information about what she doesn’t know yet about us.”

“Send me a text to confirm you’re alive, you’re gonna be staying for a while.”

“Will do, don’t worry. You might receive pictures too, she proposed and I agreed as I always like to take pictures of yours. I...also sent some of you to her, and...she might have sent them to the others.”

“They’re looking at me so...I think they got them.”

“At this point they’re gonna make a scrapbook out of it.”

“They might.”

“They don’t mean to be annoying, I’m sure. They’re just…”

“...really invested. They’re gonna want to know everything there is to say and know. Especially for you as they don’t know you as well as they know me.”

“I guess I’ll be spending my days-offs at another workplace. I’m okay with it.”

“People are gonna wonder if you’re not working there after seeing you that often, you’ll have to correct a lot of people.”

 “I look smart, of course they’re gonna think I’m working there. They should have hired me by now, they’re missing out a lot.”

“You’re right, they should.”

“I can’t guarantee I’ll be with the profilers though, my talent has its limits. I can only read your face.”

“You’re only a profiler with me then.”

“Yeah, I’m a special one. I’m not risking my life doing it.”

“And not scaring people?”

“Mhm. I’m not.”

“I can tell you’re smiling without seeing you. We got a special talent in common.”

“Oh, come on, you’re the one with 187 IQ, you got the bigger talent here.”

“No, mine is smaller. You lose things all the time, that’s the real talent I don’t have.”

“I’m not doing it on purpose- And be glad I have that ‘talent’, because without it you wouldn’t even be speaking to me right now.”

“I never said it was a bad one, it’s a good one. I met you thanks to it.”

“I guess I can believe that.”

“Believe it! It’s the truth.”

"I love teasing you, I get to hear the squeaky voice.”

“Hey- no teasing about it, I always do it, I can’t help but not have another pitch, it’s like that.”

“I also have one, we’re quit. But- yours is more high-pitched to me.”

“It’s not, I always have a deep and masculine voice- please don’t tell me you’re on speaker.”

“...I’m not on speaker but...she may have- she heard it.”

“Let’s hope she won’t say it to someone else.”

“I can’t guarantee that, but...it’s not the end of the world though.”

“Yeah, it’s not. I’m sorry I...I have to go, in a bit.”

“It’s alright, we got to chat for like...five minutes, it’s a good one.”

“It is. I’ll try to call, or shoot a text if I can.”

“Okay. Love you. Go catch bad guys- and hang up first before we stay another ten minutes.”

“Got it. Love you too. Good luck with Penelope.”

“You’re still on the line.”

“I know- can you do it? I feel bad hanging up at you.”

“Fine. Have a good day-”

I wish we’d have all day to ourselves right now, it’s a bit hard to not have her with me all of a sudden.

Let’s hope I get to be home soon.

++

I wish I didn’t have to witness what happened there.

It...did something to me.

I didn’t know anything about her, except the same things as everyone, such as her name, personal information and their job, but...when we went there, and saw that she had already died, I felt...weird.

As if they were someone I knew, it hit way too close to home for me, as if they were the feelings I would have for y/n if anything would ever happen.

It may be weird to think about that...out of the blue, and it also may be a bit soon, or sudden but, I thought a lot about when she told me that Garcia was already planning our wedding as soon as they began talking.

It really got me thinking again, as it definitely wasn’t the first time that occured. 

A lot of the people we dealt with in cases lost their lost ones suddenly, didn’t get a proper goodbye, regretted their last words before they last saw them, and...even if that’s not the case with her, I always leave, leaving her to wonder whether I’m gonna come back in one piece or at the hospital.

I’m aware of how bad I’m scaring her every time; she’s always waiting for a text to know if I’m alive to stop her from worrying, and even though I know she won’t have risks of getting hurt in most cases, I can’t stop but get scared for her, especially when I’m so far from her.

I’ve seen what happened with other loved ones in my team, and that’s not what I want to happen to her.

It’s only been...almost two years, it’s not enough at all, but...we never really talked about the future, getting married and all that stuff, we’ve been fine staying as boyfriend and girlfriend, it didn’t really matter, and we had all the time to talk about it.

So...I don’t really know if that’d be sudden.

But, at the same moment...I do want to do that; y/n means a lot to me, and that would be...mainly stressful but, it’s something that means a lot.

I want to do this, really, but...I don’t want it to be like a few days ago, it wasn’t planned, and again, I would have wanted for it to go differently.

But, after that case, and many more that happened, what if something happens before I come back? What if I get other cases, more work? 

It could, and could not happen, I can’t know in advance.

That’s why I hate it when I don’t know things I actually need information about, it freaks me out.

I have no way to plan what could happen, and it’s even worse for y/n, from what I can imagine.

If something does happen, she won’t be the first to know, but due to the possible lack of calls, or anything else, she could first think of something bad, but won’t know it it’s quite bad, if nothing happened, or if she’s gonna have a call she never wished for.

I know it’s weird to think about all of that, but my job isn’t made of riskless things, I’m aware of it.

I wouldn’t be thinking about that if it was any less calm.

All that my brain can think of is that the rest of my life has to be spent with her, I can’t do it with anyone else, if she’s not there. 

A simple diary made us meet each other, without it, my life wouldn’t have changed much from what I can say.

It really is fun to think that we met because of an object.

It’s quite weird to go back to when she wasn’t here, I’ve been so used to being with her.

It’s probably cliché, but I can’t imagine not having her around now that I’ve met her.

She’s sort of a part of me if I had to describe it.

She’s the reason why I look even more forward to the end of a case, going home, doing simple things as walking around the neighborhood, grocery shopping, or even getting ready for bed.

The last is the best moment of the day along with waking up having her next to me; I’m often awake first in the morning, so I get to look at her a bit more in advance before she wakes up on her own.

She always smiles first thing when she wakes up, even if she’s really tired.

That’s one of the things I prefer.

I always end up staying longer as she had trouble getting out of bed, I’d even get her out of bed by carrying her for a bit as if she was a child.

But, it makes her feel happy and loved, so, I don’t mind doing it.

When we get ready for bed, I’m usually the last to sleep as I watch her until she falls asleep. 

I can’t help but do that every time, even if I’m a bit tired.

She yells at me a bit when she hears I do that instead of enjoying all of the hours I have, but, I just tell her the only excuse I had and always have.

I still haven’t found another, really.

Probably because the one I always tell her is the only that has ever existed to me, I don’t think it will change.

It probably won’t, I like that excuse.

I really don’t want anything to change, I really like the way everything is.

How she is, how she looks, when we’re together, I just can’t imagine something better.

That’s why I just...with all I’ve seen around me, what happened, of all the losses I’ve experienced, I can’t stand thinking about that ever changing, I have to tell her how I love her for the millionth time, hold her as much as I can, memorize all of the details of her face once again, and again.

I always do them more than we can recall, but...I want to do that once again, even if she tells me I’ve done these enough.

I want to express how much I love her, even if she knows it as that’s the first thing she gets to know in the morning, when we go to bed, when I leave for work, at the end of a call, or even at random moments when I look at her for a while, and end up randomly saying: “you know that I love you so bad, right?” 

She smiles at it, every time.

After that, she often ends up telling me how cheesy I can be sometimes before kissing my lips and laying close to me if she wasn’t already with me.

I don’t want that to stop, I have to feel it again, think about it after it happens for hours, it can’t stop.

I also hope I won’t have to have her go through all of that fear when I leave every time.

I always feel bad about it to this day, and I know it won’t change until I decide to quit it, but...as much as she hates the risks and all of the stuff coming with it, she’ll kill me if I decide to quit, she knows how much that job is important.

So...I have to tell her, again.

I want to be able to be with her, go through whatever problem could happen, agreements we might have, I want to do all of this.

I’m willing to do all of this, no matter how tough it gets.

Y/N’s the only one I ever cared so much about, I don’t think I’ve ever done that with anyone else other than my mother.

I’m not also saying that I don’t care about my team who could pass as my own family, but, y/n’s the one.

The one that makes me feel special, that I always want to see, that pulls me through the day even if I’m having a bad case, the one that is always willing to talk even if it’s 2 in the morning, she never gave up on me, I don’t remember one moment when I wouldn’t hear about her.

I don’t want to hesitate about anything else.

I’m sure about this.

I will tell her exactly what I thought about, what I’ll think, what I thought from the beginning, whether she already knows some details by heart.

And I’ll tell her anyway for the only and one reason that it’s because I’ve always been so cheesy and hopelessly in love with her.

That is the only thing that will never change.

++

I don’t think I’ve even ran so fast after having to pass to the office for just some papers.

I’ve barely said goodbye to the team, and they kind of were surprised to see me rushing so bad.

They’ve probably figured out that it was because I was excited to see y/n now that they know about her, and, that is the case, but I don’t think that any of them even know what I’m about to do.

I really can’t believe it’s actually happening myself.

I’m about to do something that usually takes a while to figure out, think about, plan, and that isn’t that easy to do as it’s not something that’s to be taken lightly.

But I’m really sure, I’m aware of all of the possible reasons why I’m doing it.

I’m aware of why I’m about to marry her.

I’m not doing this as a joke, or anything else that wouldn’t make it serious.

I want to wake up knowing she’s the person I’ll be with my whole life, that I’ll be able to love even more, brag about more, think again when I’m not doing well.

I want her to know all of that.

I just can’t wait.

It’s...really crazy and sudden, and I’ve thought that it was stupid at first because of these reasons, but I don’t think it quite is.

I’m doing this for a reason, and I’ve never been so sure and confident even if that is the most stressful thing I could ever do in my life.

I just hope I won’t collapse...even if that’s a bit exaggerated to me, but, I guess it’s the whole tension, stress that’s talking.

She has no idea that I planned to do that, the only thing she knows is that I’m on my way as I told her before driving home.

If there wasn’t other vehicles, or a speed limit, I think that I would have already been there.

When I pulled out of the parking lot as no places were available nearby, I bounced my feet on the floor of the elevator all the way.

I’m kind of surprised that it didn’t crash because of that.

I’m also glad that I managed to make it to my front door, still alive.

When I took out my keys out of my pocket, missing the lock once before getting it right as I took a large breath, I already heard the sound of the bedroom door opening in a hurry when she heard the front door.

After hearing a short fumbling once I had closed the door; she had jumped in my arms as soon as I turned back to her.

The first thing that really came to mind was that she had immediately felt like home; as she always did.

She hugged me, without a word for whatever time was enough to her, until she pulled back to probably give me air.

“Welcome back. Sorry for the...sudden jump. I hope you-”

“I didn’t.” I replied, planting a short kiss on her lips. “I’ll never mind, never.”

“I know. Do you want me to uh...cook something for you? I don’t think we have much left except some eggs, I forgot to go to the store after work.”

“Don’t worry about that, I’m fine with it. I’ll help you with it so you don’t burn the apartment down. It’ll be a bit...bad to have to deal with a fire now.”

“You’re not wrong, yeah. Let’s avoid that, but- don’t criticize my possible talents! The only thing I’ll burn is the food itself. I’ll be turning the gas off as soon as I’ll see the food burning.”

“Okay- I trust you. Do you want me to let you cook on your own?”

“I like being independent, but…no, stay.”

“Alright, I’ll make sure we don’t eat burned food. We both deserve nice food after the long day we’ve had.”

“Too bad we don’t have a heart pan...you know I would have wanted to do that.”

“We’ll buy one tomorrow, don’t worry. Look, just so we don’t forget…” I took my phone from the couch, walking back next to her. “Okay, it’s on the reminder app.”

“You won’t forget it, each stuff you read stays in your memory. ‘Can’t guarantee for me.” Y/N admitted, lightly chuckling.

“You won’t forget, don’t worry. Don’t overestimate your brain.”

“I forget stuff all the time, I don’t trust him too much.”

“Don’t call yourself dumb, you’re certainly not. You’re very smart, and- you wouldn’t be even awake without your brain.”

“Oh, yeah, forgot the science thingy part. I kind of figured out that you’d  be telling me that, you’re really predictable.”

“I can’t argue on that one.”

“You, not arguing? You always have an explanation that’s as long as an essay. You’re lucky that I’m interested in it.”

“I’m quite surprised that you manage to stay interested all long. Not all of the people I work with make it through the whole thing.”

“It’ll never be boring to me.”

“You sure about that? I may deliver a talk worth a four page essay.”

“Not so late, tomorrow, I promise.”

“Okay, tomorrow. Let’s cook before we get too tired.”

“Can you go first? I’m always afraid of getting burned by that.”

“I was going to do it, I was kind of afraid for you.”

“Oh- thanks, I guess.”

“Anything for you.”

++

Just as if I didn’t have everything planned in my head for hours, once we did the eggs, talked a bit, and layed on the bed without bothering to get rid of our outside clothes;

I still didn’t know.

I was beyond stressed.

Would it be going well?

Would she react well?

If I suddenly don’t know what to say, what do I even do next?

Of course, I was still very sure of it, more than anything, but turns out that the stress just didn’t want me to do that apparently.

I still don’t get why it had to get in the way just now.

I just have to overcome it, it’ll be...totally okay.

It’s going to be okay.

I just have to somehow get to talk and manage to know what I want to say...I guess?

“Are you okay? You didn’t say anything for a while.”

“Oh, sorry I...I was thinking about something.”

“Is it a bad or good thing?”

“It’s a good one, not bad...at all. I just don’t know if...I can say it. It’s a stressful one.”

“I’m not sleeping for a bit more, you can go ahead. If it’s stressful, I guess it must be an important thing.”

“It’s an important one, yeah.”

“Go ahead then, I’ll be listening to every word, won’t miss a bit. You got all of my attention.” Y/N said, sitting up on the side of the bed.

“Okay, okay. Um...I don’t really know where to start, and how to, but...I think I’ll be saying everything at one moment or another.” I explained, as I sat up next to her. “I’ve been thinking about it for a bit, and slightly hesitated at the beginning as I told myself that it’d be a stupid decision, but I know that it’s something I’m sure of, it’s not something I thought of for a minute before deciding that I’d be doing it. I have to say that I haven’t been thinking about it deeply since months, but the time I thought about it was enough to decide that it was what I wanted.”

“You’re starting to worry me right now...I thought it was a good thing, and- you know I freak out easily…”

“It’s definitely a good thing, I just...there’s a lot to say. It might be an essay long, I just want to say everything that’s important.”

“Okay, I’m listening. You can keep going, sorry.” She apologized, as I put my hand on hers to reassure her.

“I...I’ve had a while to think about all of this. Barely two years, but...I never really thought about it to the point of having a whole essay to say. There’s just so many things to say about how I feel about you that I can’t select which ones to put so it could be shorter. I know we’ve talked about it a lot of times, but thanks for purchasing that diary in the first place, it’s what started our story, basically. I could also thank the one that made it but...I have no idea.” I admitted, pulling a short laugh from her. “And thanks for forgetting it, too. Your forgiveness came in handy, and we’re here now. It may be all cliché and all, but that’s what changed me. A simple book, that lead me to you. I can’t thank you enough for talking to me, and not letting go.

I really thought that I was nothing but a stranger that found something for you, and that you’d end up moving on. I didn’t move on after that, you kept staying in my head. I was persuaded that you had forgotten me and that I should...leave it there. We only knew each other’s names, that didn’t mean that I could talk to you more to me. Now, I kind of want to punch my past self for that.

I turned out to be more than wrong. When I stepped in that day, I was going to find some excuse to talk to you, and pretend I didn’t see you, but I couldn’t do that. You were all I could see in that place. Pretending that I didn’t see you would have been rude.”

“You could have done it, I wouldn’t have been mad. I probably would have done the same.” She admitted.

“I couldn’t have, really. You were all I could think about, so, not looking at you after not being able to see you? That wasn’t possible. I can’t even do that now. When I look at you, I can allow myself to basically let go of whatever stresses me in my work. I know I shouldn’t be talking about it too much, but thank you for supporting me, even after all of the scares I gave you. I won’t be talking about quitting as you said that you’d kill me if I’d do it.”

“The offer is still up. I won’t let you quit until you’re at least 60.”

“I’m not planning on dying yet, I won’t quit. But, I’m sorry for all of the stress that I put you through. I wish I could make it less stressful. You’re so strong for that, I really don’t know how you manage to not have a heart attack, you’re truly amazing.

You can be proud of that though. I want you to be.

You’ve made me feel stronger because of this too. Your strength, your support, your love, all of that allows me to pull through.

I can’t imagine having to go through that without you. You became such an important part of my life, that I just...can’t imagine not having you here by my side. You matter so much to me, I really want you to know that. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I can’t do that with anyone else now that I’ve met you. You make me feel so loved, so happy, everyday, and...I want to feel like this forever. I don’t want that to change ever.” 

Don’t screw this up.

You got this.

“Since I’ve met you, you’ve given me a reason to be better, to do better. Something changed when you came into my life, I’m not the doctor Reid from two years ago anymore. I would constantly overthink, I was never sure of anything, I was a mess. But now, you’ve pushed me to say what I have in mind, you’ve made me more confident, and I’ve never been sure of something my entire life. My old self wouldn’t have done that at all. 

I've realized that I can't live without you anymore. I've lost too many things, and I definitely can't lose you. You're the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me. And before you say anything, not even books, TV shows, or whatever else is better. You're the one that I love the most, and that I'll also love for many and many years. 

I've...also realized that I've said the entirety of a monologue, and you're probably wondering what that was for so, I'll get to the point." I explained, briefly leaving her side to take something from my pocket, a gasp leaving her lips as I suddenly put a knee on the floor, pulling the box open.

"It would be an immeasurable pleasure to be able to share my life with you, as long as we both shall live. So...I, Spencer Reid, would like to know if the wonderful woman in front of my eyes would accord me the pleasure of marrying me?" 

"Of course I will, you idiot!" Y/N exclaimed, pressing her lips against mine.

"Is that a yes though?" I asked, still against her lips.

"It's a yes." She answered, as we both pulled back from the other when I took her left hand, slightly struggling to take the ring out of the box.

After a few seconds, and a few laughs, I nervously slid the ring on her finger, looking at her when I was done.

"...I understand the stress you had now. I...I really don't have the words right now. I kind of feel bad about not having anything to say. I just...want you to know that I also love you, so much. Thank you for being here with me, and...marrying me. This is...the best thing, ever." She said, her eyes watering.

"I would marry you every day if it was possible."

"If only. We have to plan a whole wedding now. I think we're gonna need a lot of help."

"That depends when you want it to happen."

"That also depends how fast it can be organized. Because if it can be done in one week, that would be...amazing. I can't wait another year."

"It's as it was already done babe. I bet Penelope already planned everything from the moment she met you."

"I wouldn't be surprised. Gosh, I can't wait to be able to call you my husband." She admitted.

"And I can't wait to be able to call you my wife." 

++

"Can you...frickin' believe that? We met her just a bit ago, and like...one month after I get to organize their wedding? This is totally crazy. She even let me help choose her dress, her damn dress!" 

"Of course she'd let you help Penelope. She couldn't have even said no to you, and as she didn't say no, she asked for your help as none of them knew how to do all this." Luke answered.

"I could literally drop out of the FBI and become a wedding planner at this point. Don't yell at me in calls, because you know what I'm gonna do next."

"We won't, don't worry about it. Just enjoy the wedding, you literally help plan the best day of their lives, they're not gonna be doing that every day." He reassured.

"That's too bad that it's only gonna last for a day. It's a shame we'll have to take everything down though."

"Just enjoy. Calm down for a bit."

Penelope took a deep breath, tapping Luke’s shoulder as she began leaving, but stopped for a second. "I'm gonna see if she's even ready. Someone go check on the boy wonder." 

“Yes, ma’am.”

++

“Y/N? Can I enter? It’s Pen.” Garcia asked, knocking a few times.

“As long as you’re not Spencer with a voice changer or something, yeah.” I said, as the lock of the door made itself heard signaling that the door was open, before she closed it on her way in.

“I thought you weren’t ready yet! Spencer’s gonna be downstairs soon.”

“I’m ready physically, not mentally. This is the part when I stress down.”

“What are you stressed about? Here, sit for a bit.” She motioned, putting her hand on mine when we had sat down.

“I don’t know...I, it’s the whole wedding thing. It’s not about Spencer or anything, I do still want to marry him, but...I’m just stressing about it. It didn’t hit me until today.”

“I get it. Lots of people, the big event, and mostly, marrying someone who matters. Don’t tell me one of your worries is that he’s not gonna find you beautiful or regret. There’s no way. Because, I know...we weren’t supposed to send messages to the boys before today, but, he spoke about you practically all night. He couldn’t believe that it was happening, I mean- who wouldn’t be stressed about marrying such a beautiful girl? So, stop that. All of the people here are only friends you know and family. There’s nothing else to stress about, I listed everything, and none of them is something you should overstress about, it’s going to be okay.”

“I know, I...I just stressed all of a sudden. And, I know he doesn’t think that, I just had the stress bringing all of those...stressful thoughts. Am I the only one who stresses at their wedding or is it normal? I don’t want to ruin anything because I’ll end up stressing, not knowing what to say-”

“You will be okay. You’ll know what to say the minute you’ll see him. Come here-” She rushed forward, taking my hand to put me on my feet as she directed me in front of the mirror. “Do you think Spencer isn’t stressed too when he thinks that he’s gonna marry you? You’re beautiful, amazing, strong, extremely kind, dedicated, I mean- he’s so lucky to have you. Anyone else would be stressed, it’s normal, you don’t have to think that you’re ruining anything, at all. Because that’s all I see when I look at that mirror. There’s not enough adjectives to describe your beauty right now, I think we’re gonna have to invent new ones at this point. I mean- look at you!” She exclaims, putting her head on my shoulder as she smiles.

“I’m probably also stressed because of how handsome he is too. I mean…wow. I’m marrying Spencer fucking Reid. It’s not anyone, he’s a literal god and a total genius.”

“And he is going to marry y/n fucking y/l/n. You’re not anyone as well, you’re a smokin’ hot bomb, a goddess and a strong, independent woman.”

“Okay, I am smokin’ hot.”

“Bet you are. So, now that everything is okay, you wait here. Don’t worry, Hotch’s gonna come soon, he’s probably finishing off a talk with our boy wonder. I’ll see you in a bit!” Penelope hurried out, leaving the room.

I’m marrying...fucking Spencer Reid.

Someone pinch me. I feel like this is a dream.

Ow- it’s not one.

It’s...really happening.

++

“I now declare you husband, and wife. You can kiss your wife, kid.” Rossi announces, as I advanced towards y/n, covering both sides of her face with my hands as the embrace deepens afterwards.

Soon enough, whoops and hollers echo through the backyard, as we pull back with smiles on both on our faces, maintaining our gaze on the other.

It’s official.

We’re finally both able to call the other our spouse, from now on, and forever.

Just two years ago, I never would have thought that this would happen.

I was just Spencer Reid, a guy that would always overthink, think he wasn’t good enough for anyone, didn’t think about ever going on dates, I was a total mess...until that diary.

It’s a bit ridiculous to say that I’ve overcome what would have refrained me from ever being with someone thanks to an object, but...that’s really what happened.

Who in the hell would have even thought that a person that I barely knew with only a few words would slowly become a familiar person, then a friend, a partner, and as I totally didn’t expect...my wife.

It all seems unreal, even now.

But it really is, believe it or not. I heard the words well, slid her ring on her hand; after that, she slid my ring on mine, Rossi announced it...and we kissed.

I pinched myself while she wasn’t looking, and it still wasn’t a dream.

I was married to her.

Even when we talked to our friends, we never let go of the other.

We were probably afraid that one of us was going to disappear if we ever let go of their hand.

I have no idea if some found it weird, I didn’t even care.

I was with her, she was with me, and we were both married.

That’s the only thing that mattered.

And...now that I think about what sealed our fates and lives forever as I looked at y/n;

It’s a good thing that I paid attention to my surroundings that day.

++

Let me know if you liked this fic here!

[ibijau]

Futures past pt4 / On AO3

Because his new friend isn't free, Nie Huaisang must spend time with Lan Xichen instead

Through some sort of miracle, Nie Huaisang managed to not get into any trouble for the second day in a row, mostly because Jin Zixun was still the problematic student of the moment. He really had a very unpleasant personality, that one, but with some of the rumours going around about him it wasn’t such a surprise. If even just one or two pieces of gossip that Nie Huaisang had heard were true… well, he wouldn’t have wanted to be in Jin Zixun’s shoes, for sure, but he also understood why he was like that. For someone in that position, the only options were to act important at any cost, or to make it clear one wasn’t a threat to anyone. Jin Zixun had made his choice, just like Nie Huaisang had.

But on that fine afternoon, Nie Huaisang wasn’t in a mood to think about Jin Zixun, except to silently thank him for attracting all of the teacher's annoyance to himself. Because Nie Huaisang, as it happened, had plans for the free time he had until dinner.

Having excused himself toward the other Nie disciples who didn't much care what he did anyway, Nie Huaisang headed toward the training grounds where he found a group of Lan disciples sparring in pairs. Normally he would have found such a display of excellence boring at best, depressing at worst, but for once Nie Huaisang watched with sincere interest. His eyes jumped from one pair to the other, until at last he found the person he was looking for. 

Su She was sparring with a boy a little shorter than him, and who looked slightly younger as well. Watching him like this, Nie Huaisang realised that his new friend hadn't lied the previous afternoon: he was clearly less at ease with an audience, and made a few mistakes here and there that got him scolded. He was still a better swordsman than Nie Huaisang would ever care to be, though, and clearly determined to continue improving. 

After a while, there was a lull in the lesson so everyone could catch their breath. Nie Huaisang saw his chance, and waved his arm high about his head to catch his new friend's attention. 

"Su-xiong!" he shouted, attracting more than just Su She's notice. "Su-xiong, hi!" 

Su She's face scrunched into a funny expression upon being hollered at that way, but he walked the distance to the edge of the training grounds, pretending not to notice how his fellow Lan disciples stared at him as if he'd grown a second head.

"So Nie gongzi really came," Su She said after quickly bowing to greet the other boy. "I thought you were just being polite yesterday." 

"If I knew how to be polite, I wouldn't need to be studying here. Are you done here? Do you have other classes after?" 

"Well…" 

"Because you said you let me hear you play music, remember?" 

Su She grimaced, a spot of colour rising to his cheeks as he glanced behind. Some of the boys in his group were preparing to leave the training grounds, but five of them looked as if they were going to stay behind. 

"Laoshi said I didn't perform well," Su She muttered. "So I have to practice some more. I'm very grateful for laoshi spending time on us less skilled students, of course. But I doubt I'll have any free time today, Nie gongzi." 

"Don't call me gongzi, it's awkward," Nie Huaisang complained, poking him in the shoulder. "We're friends now, so you can be more familiar than that. Right, Su-xiong?”

“It would be inappropriate,” Su She muttered, glancing at the leaving disciple who passed them by and kept throwing them curious looks. “Nie gongzi is the brother of a highly respected sect leader, I could not dare…”

“Nonsense! Come on, try calling me ‘Nie-xiong’! There’s really no need for formality. Isn’t there a rule about equality between friends?”

Su She shifted uncomfortably, while some of those other Lan disciples walking by were now sneering.

“We’re not friends,” Su She said. “We just met yesterday.”

At some other time, Nie Huaisang would have accepted that rejection. He was stupid, yes, but not completely devoid of good sense, and too lazy to pursue anyone who didn’t want him around. But he also didn’t like the way those other Lan boys looked at the two of them, as if they thought it stupid that anyone should even talk to Su She.

Nie Huaisang was very lazy, but that was nothing compared to how petty he could be.

“If we’re not friends yet, I’m sure we can become so,” he announced, a touch louder than truly necessary. “I really had fun with you yesterday, and I think you’re very interesting. Please, Su-xiong, give me a chance?”

Su She’s face went through a whole range of emotion, from suspicion to something that might have been gratefulness, before he nodded a little shyly.

“If… If Nie-xiong insists then… then this humble one is honoured by that offer of friendship.”

Nie Huaisang beamed.

“I still can’t spend time with Nie-xiong today, though.”

Nie Huaisang’s smile fell. His whole plan for the afternoon had been to spend time with his new friend. He’d wanted to make Su She play music for him, chat a little, and see if the other boy could be convinced to help him with his homework, since he’d been ignoring a mounting pile of those and was bound to get in trouble sooner rather than later. Jin Zixun wasn’t going to attract all the trouble to himself for ever, and Lan Qiren was going to be done with his other duties soon.

“I guess I’ll have to find something else to do,” Nie Huaisang sighed, glancing around for an idea. To his surprise, he spotted Lan Xichen not very far, who was looking in their direction with an unreadable expression. Nie Huaisang grimaced, and sighed again. “Well, there’s always that, I guess. If Su-xiong really isn’t available, I guess Lan gongzi will have to do… I probably need to apologise for yesterday, anyway.”

“Probably,” Su She agreed. “You… You’d rather spend time with me than him, really?”

“Sure,” Nie Huaisang distractedly said, already trying to figure out what he’d tell Lan Xichen. “You’re more fun, and by far. Listen, I’m leaving for now, but let’s try to meet again. Come find me after my classes if you happen to be free, alright? And I’ll try to look for you as well.”

Su She promised and shared some of his schedule for the coming days before his teacher called him back to the lesson at hand. Nie Huaisang then had no choice but to wave at Lan Xichen who nodded at him, and dragged his feet to the older boy, cursing his future self and his stupid brother for forcing the acquaintance on him.

“Good afternoon, Nie gongzi,” Lan Xichen greeted him. “How surprising to find you here. Did you have any business on the training grounds?”

“I came to see a friend,” Nie Huaisang explained, pointing at Su She. “But he’s busy, in the end.”

“You came to see Su She?” Lan Xichen asked in an odd tone.

“I met him yesterday, he’s good fun.” Remembering what else had happened the previous day, Nie Huaisang grimaced and bowed to the older boy. “Speaking of that, I’m sorry for what happened then. I was very rude, and I’m very sorry. You’re not the sort of person that tricks others, so it was wrong of me to accuse you of that.”

“Did you meet Su She after you ran away?” Lan Xichen insisted.

Something in his frown, when he usually looked as placid as a water buffalo no matter what went on, rubbed Nie Huaisang the wrong way. It was already a little annoying that other Lan disciples clearly didn’t hold Su She in very high regard, but that was not so unexpected. They might be from Gusu Lan, people were still people, and no amount of rules could stop teenagers from turning on whoever they thought they could bully without consequences. Su She, with his personality and slightly lesser skill, was an easy target for whoever wanted to feel superior. It only made sense, because people were like that.

But Lan Xichen wasn’t just people, he was the First Jade of Gusu Lan, praised by everyone for his good personality, and he really had no business saying Su She’s name in that particular tone, as if those two syllables might dirty his mouth.

“Yes, I stumbled onto him after leaving you,” Nie Huaisang confirmed. “And then we chatted a lot, and I think we get along fine, so I hope we can be really friends. Does Lan gongzi have a problem with that?”

“Not at all,” Lan Xichen lied, which Nie Huaisang could tell because the older boy was immensely bad at lying, his cheeks all flushed, his hands trembling. “I am very glad that Nie gongzi is… making the best of his time here. I’m sure… well. I’m sure you wouldn’t bestow your friendship onto someone unworthy.”

He absolutely thought that Nie Huaisang was stupid and would hang out with the wrong crowd, that much was clear.

If Nie Huaisang hadn’t promised his future self that he’d make an effort to get along with Lan Xichen, he would have left and found some other way to spend his afternoon. But this was for Nie Mingjue, who was going to die if Nie Huaisang didn’t behave himself.

For the sake of his brother, Nie Huaisang could put up with someone unpleasant here and there, right?

“So, about yesterday, would you still show me that good spot for painting?” Nie Huaisang asked. “I’m really, really sorry for reacting the way I did, I swear.”

Lan Xichen blinked a few times like a startled owl, and gazed a long moment at Nie Huaisang, his expression quite serious.

“Nie gongzi needs not apologise,” he said. “I understand how you might have misunderstood my intentions. After all, we have hardly ever spoken before, and Nie gongzi has no reason to trust me. I hope I can change that over time. Since your brother is dear to me, I hope the two of us can also learn to get along. It would be nice if we could all three rely on one another, right?”

“Sure,” Nie Huaisang said, a little puzzled. “Anyway, that place for painting?”

Lan Xichen pinched his lips, and looked up at the sky. “I fear there is a chance it might rain,” he said. “Today would not be right for it. Another time though…”

“Damn, then I’m back to square one,” Nie Huaisang muttered. “I really don’t know what I’m going to do until dinner, how boring.”

“Don’t you have homework?”

Nie Huaisang grimaced. He crossed his arms on his chest and shook his head.

“I do, but that’s even more boring than not doing anything. And anyway, I don’t really understand what it’s about, so it’s pointless. I guess I’ll just go hang out in the library and see if I can find something fun to read.”

“Or else,” Lan Xichen started, before pinching his lips again. “But no, I don’t suppose that would interest you.”

“Tell me anyway. I am so bored, I’ll at least consider anything.”

Lan Xichen, again, gave him a long hard look, as if trying to understand something about him.

“Nie gongzi, I have some work to be doing right now, but I wouldn’t mind having company,” Lan Xichen offered. “We can go pick up your homework, too, and that way if you have questions I can help you with them. Would that interest you?”

It absolutely didn’t interest Nie Huaisang. The only thing worse than doing homework or spending time with Lan Xichen was dealing with both at the same time. Even for Nie Mingjue’s sake, he wasn’t sure he could put up with such torture.

Hopefully, his brother might be properly grateful for his efforts someday.

He probably wouldn’t be.

Still, Nie Huaisang made himself smile and said: “Sure, why not try that!” with enough fake enthusiasm that Lan Xichen didn’t question him.

Having decided on this course of action, Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen headed for the cabin where the Nie disciples resided, so Nie Huaisang could grab some of the assignments he’d been given. They then walked silently toward the house Lan Xichen shared with his uncle and brother, both of which happened to be absent at the moment. Lan Qiren was busy leading his brother’s sect, while Lan Wangji was overseeing the punishment of some other juniors. Neither of those two were particularly dear to Nie Huaisang, but he'd have preferred not being alone with Lan Xichen.

While Lan Xichen prepared some tea, Nie Huaisang took the liberty of looking around the house. It was decorated in a simple but elegant manner, everything speaking of great taste and refinement, like the rest of the Cloud Recesses. It was a shame the Lan were so boring, because they had an amazing sense of beauty which appealed to Nie Huaisang. He would have loved to live in a house like this one, where aesthetics weren’t sacrificed to practicality like at home, where people could dress like scholars without getting yelled at because long sleeves weren’t good for fighting. There was an air of calm to the Cloud Recesses that appealed to him, and it was really too bad that the people who actually got to live there always looked like they didn’t properly appreciate the beauty of that place.

Adding to that feeling of near perfection, the tea Lan Xichen served was exquisite, light and easy on the tongue, perfectly refreshing and just the thing Nie Huaisang needed after a long day of ignoring lessons and repeated disappointments. If only the company had been better, he would have been delighted.

“I’m going to start working,” Lan Xichen announced, placing an ancient looking scroll on the table, next to some fresh paper and an inkstone. “But please do not hesitate to interrupt me if you have questions. I would really be happy to help.”

“Lan gongzi is too kind. I will try hard to not be too much of a bother, but I am grateful for the offer.”

Lan Xichen offered Nie Huaisang a strained smile, then started whatever work he had to do. Nie Huaisang felt his head and heart hurt at the very idea of homework, but still forced himself to at least look at some of the essays he was supposed to write. It was a question about a hypothetical situation at a Night Hunt, and demanded an explanation of how to best deal with the crisis detailed, as well as why that solution was the appropriate one. Nie Huaisang wasn’t sure it was something that had been discussed in class, though with how little he managed to actually listen, it might well have been. In any case, he was pretty sure that someone a little more used than him to Night Hunts would have known what to do from experience, but he never really went Night Hunting, unlike most kids his age.

Still, since he was trapped there with nothing better to do, Nie Huaisang tried his best to think of something to write. He picked up a spare sheet of paper and even dipped his brush in Lan Xichen's ink, ready to write down whatever stupid answer he’d come up with, but his mind remained desperately blank. It was such a waste of time. He should have refused Lan Xichen’s invitation, and gone out in the back hills. If the weather was about to turn bad, some birds might have been flying lower than usual. He could have seen them from up close, which would have been nice. He hadn’t yet figured out which species lived around the Cloud Recesses, but…

“Oh, that’s pretty,” Lan Xichen remarked.

Nie Huaisang startled, and looked down at the sheet of paper in front of him, where he had mindlessly started doodling a few birds. He hadn’t meant to do that, but it tended to happen when he was bored, and then teachers noticed and got angry, scolding him for wasting time and paper on something useless. Used to things playing out a certain way, and knowing how serious everyone in Gusu Lan was, Nie Huaisang braced himself for a scolding that never came.

“You have a very good sense of movement,” Lan Xichen said instead, leaning over the table to get a better look. “And a good eye for details too. Those are swallows, right?”

“Yeah,” Nie Huaisang mumbled, shoulders still hunched up. “I like them. They’re fun to watch fly, even if it’s not… da-ge says it’s a waste of time.”

Lan Xichen hummed quietly, and put down his own brush, extending his hand toward Nie Huaisang. Unsure what else to do, the younger boy handed him his doodles, which Lan Xichen observed with rather more attention than something so rushed really deserved.

“The time you spent observing those birds can’t have been wasted if it lets you paint them this way,” Lan Xichen noted, giving back the paper. “Nie gongzi is more skilled than I would have expected. Were you taught formally, or did you just pick up on your own?”

“A bit of both. When he figured I wasn’t going to be good at cultivation, my father decided I’d have to be good at something else. But then he died, and until da-ge marries I’m his heir, so everyone started insisting on me learning cultivation again.”

“Yes, I suppose that would have to take priority,” Lan Xichen conceded. “It’s too bad. You have real talent. If you’d like, I can see if it’s possible for someone to teach you while you are here. And you said you were interested in the guqin as well, weren’t you?”

Too stunned for words, Nie Huaisang could only nod.

“I’m sure something can be arranged,” Lan Xichen said with a smile that, for once, looked somewhat sincere. “As long as it doesn’t impact the rest of your studies.”

Whatever hope Nie Huaisang had allowed himself to feel crumbled instantly upon hearing that condition. It wasn’t that learning to paint or play music would change his capacity to learn other things, he thought, because he just didn’t have the head for cultivation or politics in the first place. But if he failed in his normal classes, everyone would assume it was because he only cared about those other lessons.

“Lan gongzi doesn’t need to take this pain,” Nie Huaisang sighed, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. “It’s fine, it’d just be a waste of time. I am a very bad student to begin with, so let’s spare everyone the headache. No teacher should have to bear with a student like me. Really, I pity your uncle already, so let’s not add to the amount of people I’ll disappoint.”

“Nie gongzi underestimates himself. With proper motivation…”

“Ah but that’s the problem, I have no motivation whatsoever,” Nie Huaisang proudly proclaimed. “Ask my brother, nothing works on me at all, I’m just too lazy to care about anything. No, really, I thank you for the offer, Lan gongzi, but don’t waste your time.”

Lan Xichen frowned, seemingly upset to have his generous suggestion declined, and out of pure laziness too. Nie Huaisang, used to his sect’s typical temper, would have expected an explosion of anger in reaction to his apathy. He would have known how to deal with a little shouting. Instead, Lan Xichen made himself smile again, and returned to his own work without insisting, as if it didn’t matter to him what Nie Huaisang did.

Probably because he really didn’t care, Nie Huaisang thought, trying to force his attention back to his homework. They were just too different. Even if they shared certain interests, like painting or music, at the end of the day they was a huge gap in their skills and personality that made it impossible for them to get along. Compared to how easy it had been to chat with Su She… definitely, Nie Huaisang preferred the new friend he’d made over the person he’d been ordered to become close to.

“What is your assignment about?” Lan Xichen asked after a while, putting down his brush again. “You seem to be struggling, perhaps I can help?”

Feeling quite depressed at the thought he wouldn’t befriend Lan Xichen and might thus cause Nie Mingjue to die an awful death, Nie Huaisang shrugged. Homework didn’t seem so important anymore.

“Show me,” Lan Xichen insisted. “I know you’re smarter than this, so let’s see what we can do.”

Fearing he would be rude again and get in trouble for it this time, Nie Huaisang gave in and pushed his assignment toward Lan Xichen. The older boy inspected it with more attention than it deserved, a slight frown on his face as he read the question.

“Is this really stumping you?” he then asked, in a tone of voice Nie Huaisang knew too well, the one people had when they realised they needed to lower their already non existent expectations.

“It’s just a very stupid question,” Nie Huaisang pouted, crossing his arms on his chest. 

His frown deepening, Lan Xichen glanced down at the piece of paper before him.

“Actually, you’re not wrong,” he said, startling Nie Huaisang.

“I’m not?”

“Hm. In an actual Night Hunt, you might not have the time to look for exactly the right person to notify,” Lan Xichen explained, “you’d just need to find someone to warn of such a situation, as long as they can help. This is what you’re thinking, isn’t it?”

Nie Huaisang eagerly nodded, which elicited a small smile in the other boy.

“You are right to find the question… disingenuous,” Lan Xichen resumed. “Don’t think of this as something practical, but as an ideal. If you had the time, if you had the choice, who would you share this information with. That’s what is asked of you here.”

“It still sounds stupid, but a little less so,” Nie Huaisang conceded. “To be honest, I’d just go tell da-ge. The only reason I ever go to Night Hunts is if he’s forcing me, so of course he’d be here to, and there’s nothing he can’t deal with. So he’s the logical choice.”

Lan Xichen’s smile froze, something changing in his expression. Although he was looking at Nie Huaisang, it felt as though he was looking at something else, as if he could see right through the younger boy, and what he saw made him terribly sad. Before Nie Huaisang could ask if there was a problem, Lan Xichen got himself back under control, his face placid once more.

“To be fair, warning your sect leader is a very good option,” Lan Xichen said. “This assignment… it’s not just about saying who you would warn, it’s about judging your reasoning for it. You have to explain your choice.”

“I think I get it,” Nie Huaisang said, leaning over the table to get his sheet of paper back. “Well, somewhat, anyway. Fine, I’ll try again, but I still expect to get a very bad grade. Still, thanks for the help, Lan gongzi.”

Lan Xichen smiled as he picked up his brush again. “It’s no trouble at all. If anything it’s a good exercise for me, having to explain these things to someone not used to school work. Perhaps in the future you can come to me again if you encounter more problems. I’d be happy to give a hand.”

Nie Huaisang just hummed in answer, barely paying attention now that he finally somewhat understood what was expected of him. It was still a very stupid question, he decided, but knowing what it was supposed to mean helped a bit. He just wished the language used weren’t so obscure.

For a while after that, both boys worked in silence. Nie Huaisang still got distracted once or twice and doodled a few things or looked as Lan Xichen meticulously copied texts, but overall he managed to produce something he could hand back to Lan Qiren without shaming his ancestors too much. He even showed it to Lan Xichen, who agreed Nie Huaisang was making some good points while gently correcting a few mistakes here and there.

“Come find me and tell me if you get a good grade,” Lan Xichen then asked. “And maybe bring some of your drawings with you? I won’t force you to get lessons if you’re not interested, but I’m very curious to see what you can do.”

“If it pleases Lan gongzi, of course I will,” Nie Huaisang replied, who had no intention of doing such a thing.

He might have been a little unrefined, but he understood Lan Xichen was just saying that to be polite. Nobody wanted to see the sort of drawings a kid like Nie Huaisang produced, except much younger children, or maybe relatives trying to be kind. Even the earlier offer to help again with homework had to have been purely a matter of politeness… but in that case, Nie Huaisang might pretend to be stupid and actually pester Lan Xichen anyway. It was his only chance of spending time with the older boy after all, and so his only chance to get in Lan Xichen’s good graces like his future self had ordered.

How very boring, but at least if he got some decent grades, his brother might be a little proud of him.

[redisriding]

The Right Swipe - Chapter Seven

A Court of Thorns and Roses Modern AU Fanfic

All character’s belong to the wonderful Sarah J Maas.

Tag List: @superspiritfestival @duskandstarlight @perseusannabeth @courtofjurdan @omg-aelin @keshavomit @rainbowcheetah512​ @queenestarcheron​ @mis-lil-red 

“Are you nervous about tonight?”

“Of course!”

“Why?”

“I want you to like them.”

“Feyre,” Tamlin said, catching her wrist to stop her as they walked along the street towards the Weaver’s Cottage. 

Feyre looked up at her tall, handsome boyfriend. He had dressed impeccably tonight, in a dark navy suit and crisp white shirt. His golden hair was pulled back into a long ponytail. He radiated control. Totally at odds with the jittery nervousness that Feyre knew she exuded.  She placed her hands on those broad shoulders of his, to centre herself. 

“I am going to love your sisters. They’re your family, and I love you very much.”

A thrill went through Feyre at those words. They were still so new to them. Whispered in bed for the first time only a few nights ago. 

She hadn’t known what love felt like until she met Tamlin, but now she knew for sure that was what she felt. 

It was electric. 

Like standing on the edge of a cliff about to jump and not know whether you were going to plunge into the icy depths below or soar into the sky. It was the adrenaline that kept her on edge. 

It was what it felt to be alive. 

She smiled back at Tamlin, “You truly are the best, you know that, don’t you? I cannot put into words how you make me feel. I love you.”

“I think you just did,” Tamlin said with a chuckle, before leaning down and pressing his lips lightly to hers. 

Feyre broke the kiss a moment later, swatting away his handsy protests. “Come on now,” she said, linking her arm through his, “Let’s go meet my sisters.” 

Thankfully, they were the first to arrive. It allowed them to get settled at the table, and for Feyre to order a large glass of wine before Elain appeared, followed soon after by Nesta. 

Introductions were made, Tamlin graciously kissing both sisters on the cheek while Feyre swept both her sisters into hugs. “He’s very handsome,” Elain had whispered in Feyre’s ear while they embraced. 

The conversation that followed once everyone was seated was polite if awkward. Everyone muttered general comments about how good the food looked and what they were debating ordering. 

Feyre knew a cross examination of Tamlin was coming, but her sisters held off at least until the food was ordered. 

As soon as the waiter had disappeared, did Nesta begin her assault. 

“Tamlin, Feyre tells me you work for Spring Court Developments?”

“I own the company actually.” 

“Wow, that seems like an impressive thing to have achieved for someone so young.”

“I started working straight out of college and worked my way up.” Tamlin’s hand found Feyre’s leg, he began brushing lazy strokes up and down her thigh.

“You didn’t inherent the company from your father?”

“Well I—.”

“I thought I recognised your family name, and then when Feyre told me who you worked for…”

“I work for myself, Spring Court Developments is my company.”

“Gifted to you by Daddy.”

“My father trained me from a young age. It was always his intention that I would take over the company as my own.”

“That’s still very different from building the company up from the ground on your own, like you told Feyre.” 

Tamlin’s hand stilled on Feyre’s leg. “Spring Court Developments has expanded exponentially under my command.”

“Perhaps, but if it weren’t for your father’s money you would not be in the position you are now.”

His fingers began digging into the flesh of her upper thigh. “I’m not going to apologise for the hard work of my parents.” 

“The hard work of your parents is not the issue in question here.”

Tamlin’s lip curled up into a snarl.

Feyre knew he was holding his temper on a short leash. 

Perhaps, gripping it as tightly as he gripped her leg. 

Feyre tried covertly to shake him off, she was going to have bruises tomorrow if he didn’t realise his hold soon. But Tamlin remained oblivious to her attempts to escape his grasp. 

“Tamlin,” she hissed but he didn’t notice.

His attention was focused totally on Nesta, the vain in his forehead twitching.

“If you are suggesting that I am some sort of wastrel who just lives off my parent’s money and does no work of my own, you are sorrily mistaken.” His voice was controlled, icy, but there was no mistaking the rage that bubbled just beneath. 

“I—.”

Tamlin didn’t pause to listen to Nesta’s comeback. “If that were the case, then I would have run my father’s company into the ground by now,  instead, I think you will find that Spring Court Developments is thriving. It is a very different beast from the company my father started all those years ago, but I promise you it is very much my company.”

Elain and Feyre exchanged a worried look, as Nesta took another swing. “Do you think your father would be proud of what you’ve turned his company into?”

The growl Tamlin emitted wasn’t enough to stop her though. “The company your father started all those years ago focused on building affordable houses for young families in a growing city. The company his that son runs today is more concerned with forcing those very families out of their homes so the land can be used to build condos for business men who don’t even live here.”

Something like realisation flashed across Tamlin’s face, reducing his boiling temper to a simmer he could once again exert control over. “And whom, may I ask, do you work for?”

“Amren and Associates.” 

“Lawyers.” Tamlin breathed, sitting back in his chair.

Feyre frowned, looking between Nesta and Tamlin. Clearly there was more going on in this conversation than she understood. She made a mental note to ask Tamlin about it later.

The waiters appeared at their table with their starters, giving Feyre the perfect opportunity to change the direction of the conversation. 

“Elain,” she said, louder than she had anticipated, but both Nesta and Tamlin’s focus snapped to her, “tell us about your date last night.” 

“Oh yes!” Elain’s face lit up, blushing slightly as she picked at her food. “Last night was my second date with Lucien. It went really well.” 

“What did you guys do?” Nesta asked, her attention now focused on Elain, she ignored Tamlin who continued to brood in her direction. 

“It was so lovely, he brought me for a walk through the Velaris botanical gardens so we could watch the sunset and then we went and got Italian food.”

“Brought you to the botanics? It sounds like he has been really paying attention when you talk,” Feyre said. 

Elain blushed, “I had told him that I loved the botanical gardens, but I don’t think he realised quite how much until we got there.”

“Did you go all Elain on him?”

“All Elain?” Tamlin asked. 

“I can’t help it, I see flowers and I just start spilling everything I know about them,” Elain said.

“That must have been quite boring for him,” Tamlin said, taking a bite of his roll. 

Nesta’s head shot around to look at him, her mouth open as if she was going to rebut his comment, but she caught the warning look the Feyre shot her in time and refrained from saying anything. 

Elain frowned. “I don’t think he was bored…at least he pretended to look interested.”

“Some men will do anything to get laid.”

Elain put down her fork and blinked at Tamlin, “We haven’t had sex.”

“But he wants to.”

Elain blushed furiously, whatever she was about to say next died on her tongue as her mouth opened and closed like a fish. 

It was Nesta who jumped in, “Is that why you got Feyre her job, so she’d sleep with you.” 

Tamlin swallowed what he was chewing, shaking his head. “No, don’t you listen?”

Feyre froze at the tone he used towards her sister. Nesta too had gone ridged, it was shock, Feyre was sure, at being spoken to like that, that prevented Nesta from replying. 

The gap in conversation however allowed Tamlin to continue. “I said, some men are like that, but not all men.”

“I don’t think Lucien is like that,” Elain murmured but Tamlin ignored her. 

“I knew when I met Feyre that she would have slept with me if I asked. She was clearly the kind of girl you could get into bed if you bought her dinner.” 

Feyre’s head whipped to look at Tamlin. She never knew that he thought about her in such a derogatory manner, let alone speak out loud about her like that…and to her family. It was mortifying. Tears sprang to her eyes.

But Tamlin continued, “I’m a very spiritual man, I listen to a podcast series by a priestess, her name is Ianthe, you probably don’t know her. The podcasts are for women but I find I get a great deal out of them. I learn about how women think, how they feel, and how I can attune myself to the needs of women.” 

Nesta stared at Tamlin, blinking, clearly trying to suppress a laugh. 

Feyre felt hot, her breath shaky as the tears still burned at her eyes. 

“One of Ianthe’s seminal works is about only giving yourself sexually to those who you connect with spiritually. I knew within moments of meeting Feyre that she was someone I could give myself to in every way.” He looked down at Feyre then, with that soft smile and loving eyes that cracked something in Feyre’s chest. The hurt that she felt immediately disappeared, and as Tamlin’s hand began moving on Feyre’s thigh again, the sticky heat became something altogether more pleasant. 

“I practice what is called no fap.”

Nesta choked on the water she had been taking a sip of in an attempt to regain her composure. 

“What is that?” Elain asked. 

“I abstain from masturbation.” Tamlin said plainly, “So that first night, when I spilled my gentlemen's mayonnaise into your sister, it was like being elevated to another plane of existence.” 

Nesta seemed to be having some sort of break down, her eyes wide, she gawked at Tamlin, her mouth appeared to be forming the words “gentlemen’s mayonnaise” over and over. 

Elain meanwhile had turned a shade of puce. 

There was a long pause, before Feyre decided to push through the awkwardness. With a long drink from her wine glass she launched into an excruciatingly detailed monologue about her day in the gallery. When she finally finished, the main course had arrived and normal, first meeting, chitchat resumed. Everyone was keen to stay away from topics that risked igniting tempers again. 

As the waiters cleared their main course, Nesta turned to Elain and asked, “So what about the other guy you were seeing, is Lucien in the lead at the moment?”

“Azriel?” Elain shook her head, “No, he’s still very much in contention. We’re actually having dinner together at the weekend.” 

“So you’re finally going to meet your mysterious man?”

“Yes, although he’s hardly mysterious at this point. I feel like I know him with how much we talk.” 

“Do you know where he’d taking you yet?”

“No not yet, he said he’d send me the address before hand. I think he wants it to be a surprise.”

“Make sure you turn your location on, so I can see where you are.”

“I always do.”

“I just worry about you, especially when you’re with strange men from the internet.”

“A bit of a slut are you, Elain?” Tamlin’s words cracked like a whip through the air. Tempers which had cooled during the course of their dinner immediately reignited. 

“How dare you speak to my sister like that,” Nesta hissed, her top lip curling back to expose her teeth. 

“It would explain why you look like that,” Tamlin said, gesturing to Elain. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Nesta was on her feet now, voice rising. People at other tables looked over to see what the disturbance was. 

“Let’s not make a scene now Nesta,” Tamlin said condescendingly. 

“How dare you! You know, I let the stuff earlier slide because you were talking about Feyre, disgusting as it was, it’s your relationship and who am I to get involved in that, but to speak to Elain like that, when you don’t even know her—.”

“Oh please, pretend all you like that you’re defending your sister’s honour when we both know—.”

“You disgust me,” she said drawing herself up to full height to sneer down at him, “Feyre, you know I love you, and I know that I can’t tell you how to live you life, but I refuse to sit here and listen to this for another moment. I’m leaving.” Grabbing her bag, Nesta pivoted on her heel and stormed out of the restaurant.

“Very dramatic your sister,” Tamlin said, watching her go. 

“Emmm…I think I might go after her,” Elain whispered. 

Feyre just nodded at Elain, how could she allow her sisters to be spoken to like that and by the man that she loved. They didn’t deserve that, especially not Elain, after everything she’d been through. 

True, Tamlin didn’t know about that stuff, but it was still at best a reckless thing for him to say. At worst, it was cruel.  

It would be a wonder if his words didn’t send Elain into another downward spiral, and just when she seemed to be pulling herself up from the depths. 

Nesta was right to storm out. Feyre only hoped that the sisters would lean on each other for support tonight. 

“Talk to you tomorrow,” Elain whispered as she kissed Feyre on the cheek, her hand stroking her hair. 

“Okay,” Feyre whispered, unsure of her ability to form a complete sentence, to say what she wanted to say to Elain, to comfort her, without breaking down completely. 

Elain gave Tamlin a curt nod, which as Elain went, was as good as sticking her middle finger in his face, before hurrying out of the restaurant. 

After a moment’s calm, a waiter appeared to check if everything was okay. 

Tamlin ordered a banoffee pie for dessert. 

They sat in terse silence as Tamlin ate it. 

Bite by painfully slow bite. 

 “Your sister’s are certainly spirited,” Tamlin finally said, after they eventually left the restaurant. 

Feyre trailed behind him as they walked down the street to where he had parked his car. Her leg hurt from where he had dug his fingers into it during that first confrontation with Nesta. It had been almost dead when she first stood up after Tamlin had, after what seemed like eons, decided it was time to go home. 

Now she couldn’t keep up with his long strides. 

“Oh for heavens sake Feyre, hurry up,” he snapped when he realised she was behind him.

“I—.” Her voice died on her lips, as he turned around to wait on her. One eyebrow raised in question. In challenge. 

Feyre took a deep breath to steady herself, for a moment she felt brave standing up to Tamlin, “You hurt me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Feyre, I didn’t hurt you.”

“You did, when you gripped my leg earlier it really hurts, and I know it’s going to bruise tomorrow so don’t tell me you didn’t hurt me when I can’t walk.”

Tamlin’s eyes went wide, he was in front of her in two strides, cupping her face in his hands pressing kisses to the corners of her mouth. “Feyre, baby, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never hurt you. It was an accident.”

The tears that Feyre had held back all night suddenly began flowing down her cheeks.

“Shhh, Feyre please don’t cry.”

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me,” she hiccuped, “but you did.”

“It was an accident. I didn’t mean to. I would never hurt you baby, you mean everything to me.”

It was all coming out now, the confession that he had hurt her, the tears that she had repressed all night. She needed to get it all out. “Why were you so awful to my sisters?” 

“Nesta was very rude to me.”

Feyre frowned, thinking back on the evening. Was Nesta rude? Or was she just being her brutally blunt self? “She wasn’t rude, she was looking out for me. She wanted to get to know you and to understand your intentions with me.”

“My intentions with you…Feyre, I didn’t want to do this now, or here.”

“What?”

In one moment Tamlin was standing in front of Feyre, his hands holding her face gently as he wiped the tears from under her eyes. The next he was on the ground, kneeling in front of her, pulling a little black box from the inside of his jacket. 

Someone shrieked in the distance. 

Feyre didn’t realise what was happening until he flipped open the lid to reveal the biggest diamond she had ever seen. 

Could he be?

No!

Surely not?

“Marry me Feyre.”

[vanillawaiver]

i tried to figure out the enneagram types of dream smp characters

have you ever wanted to know the enneagram types, and therefore motivations and fears, of your favorite dream smp characters? that’s a rhetorical question. don’t answer. this post contains a quick explanation of the enneagram and an analysis for every included character. i’m just gonna put it all under the cut.

i’d absolutely love to hear your thoughts!

ENNEAGRAM EXPLANATION

a quick low-down on the enneagram, for those who don’t know:

the enneagram actually refers to a funky circular graph, numbers 1-9 on the outside that depict 9 different personality types. each type is adjacent to two other types around the circle (see image for clarification). the two types on either side are the possible wings for that specific type, a wing being an additional set of personality traits alongside the main personality type. an enneagram type is written as [type]w[wing]. for example, my enneagram type is 4, and i have a type 5 wing, so my enneagram type is 4w5.

(the lines through the inside of the enneagram won’t be mentioned in this post, but you can find more information on them online if you’re curious. i won’t link anything because links can be sketchy)

the nine enneagram types are mostly easily explained by their basic fears and basic desires. the enneagram is intended to explain the “why” behind someone’s actions, which is why it’s so hard to type someone else. you cannot get inside their head to find out their true motivations. however, today i am working with entirely fictional characters and not the content creators themselves, so i give myself a free pass. please don’t go around psychoanalyzing your friends or people you don’t even know and jumping to conclusions without their input lol

also all of these are just what i think ! if you (respectfully) disagree, i would actually love to hear your opinions - you are probably right and i am probably wrong.i don’t watch every stream or even know of every event, and my reasoning is probably weak at best. enough rambling, here we goooo

the grouping will be by type, just because… idk how else to organize this.

again, /rp /rp /rp ! i don’t know these ccs in real life and will not pretend to. i’m talking about minecraft roleplay.

(also, i didn’t proofread this. sorry fnjakdfda)

type 1: the reformer

principled, purposeful, self-controlled, perfectionistic

desire: to be good, to have integrity

tubbo - type 1w2

tubbo is a classic example of a type 1 being put into the worst possible situation for their current mental state. tubbo was the moral and sensical anchor for tommy’s more eccentric and self-centered actions, and they functioned as this duo UNTIL tubbo was made the president of l’manberg. tubbo’s more self-critical tendencies were amplified because his actions had so much weight. tubbo is quick to turn against and polarize those he sees as “evil”, making broad generalizations like “technoblade is wrong” and “tommy is good”, regardless of all the moral gray areas, and even changes his mind drastically between them as he seeks the right answer. (ex: exiles tommy, but then decides it was the wrong idea, and now seems to agree with everything he says again.) i think part of his flip-flopping comes from a sense of people-pleasing and generosity, again amplified by his position as the (now former) president of a nation.

type 2: the helper

generous, demonstrative, people-pleasing, possessive

desire: to feel loved/appreciated

quackity - type 2w3

(as far as i know) quackity’s first major action on the smp was to run for president. wilbur and tommy wanted quackity (as part of swag 2020) to share the votes of the two parties in order to ensure a victory over schlatt. however, quackity acted out against them because he felt used instead of appreciated for his ideas. schlatt promised him at least some amount of respect, so quackity switched sides regardless of what was better for the smp at large. i believe quackity kept looking for approval from others, but also some sense of accomplishment, by founding mexican l’manberg (is this even canon…idk but i liked it), starting the butcher army, and trying to bring schlatt back to life. quackity even fought technoblade despite being grossly unqualified and i believe this is due to the martyr mindset that often comes with unhealthy type 2s. 

type 3: the achiever

adaptable, excelling, driven, image-conscious

desire: to feel valuable

nihachu - type 3w2

(at the time of writing this, niki hasn’t had a ton of canon screentime, so this is mostly based off of the doomsday stream.) when in emotional distress, niki applies her type 3 ideas of being the best she can be to others, hyperfocusing on “teaching them a lesson” by destroying l’manberg. unhealthy 3s also tend to become jealous of other people’s happiness and success to the point they attempt to destroy it, perhaps explaining how niki’s character felt that no one wanted to listen to what she had to say about the political state of things. i see niki as a character that values her image in relation to others, hence the 2 wing. when fundy showed her respect, she became even more sure of herself, and this seems to be the kind of thing she is after.

schlatt - type 3w4

much like ghostbur (as mentioned later), schlatt is a very exaggerated character. it’s hard to type him, because the enneagram focuses around people who behave in the way real people do, and schlatt is a larger-than-life villain. i’ve typed schlatt as a 3 because of his narcissistic tendencies. schlatt not only wanted to be but believed he was integral to l’manberg’s continued function. unhealthy 3s tend to be devious and manipulative in order to hide their own wrongdoing, like how schlatt exiled the main opponents of his rule. schlatt doesn’t have the emotional introspection of a 4, only the temperamental self-absorption, but i think this is the best i can do lol

type 4: the individualist

expressive, dramatic, self-absorbed, temperamental

desire: to be significant, to find identity

tommy - type 4w5

most of my reasoning for tommy’s typing comes from his time in exile. tommy displayed an impressive connection to his emotions, maybe just out of necessity because he was alone. his constant cry was that no one cares about him, but not in the way a 2 may fear the same thing. tommy feared he had faded from significance. when he felt this way, he was quick to make rash conclusions and decisions. he is self-centered, caring more about his discs than about anything on the server. the 5 wing is there because of tommy’s constant assertion that people pity him when they show basic human kindness. he dreads others viewing him as incapable.

type 5: the investigator

perceptive, innovative, secretive, isolated

desire: to be capable and competent

awesamdude: type 5w6

is sam incredibly important to the plot? not as i write this. but i don’t want to leave type 5 empty. sam does cool redstone and built a cool prison. he’s super swag. i’m too lazy to attempt to do an analysis. this is just what i believe to be the objective truth on his character. give sam your primes.

type 6: the loyalist

engaging, responsible, anxious, suspicious

desire: to have security and support

wilbur (alivebur) - type 6w5

(pls disagree with me on this. this was so hard and i didn’t start watching dream smp until after the original “it wasn’t meant to be” moment sjkdfadkl) it’s right in the l’manberg national anthem. a place men could go to emancipate the brutality of their rulers. wilbur created l’manberg for what i interpret as security reasons. a peaceful land without americans. as an american, i understand completely. wilbur demonstrates the tendency of 6’s to shun outsiders and to turn to hysterical violence in times of distress. wilbur’s final action before his death was to blow up his safe place, because he believed the security had been tainted. i have typed wilbur with a 5 wing almost exclusively because of the intentionally radical beliefs that unhealthy 5s exhibit, becoming obsessed with blowing up the place he once called home.

type 7: the enthusiast

spontaneous, versatile, distractible, scattered

desire: to be satisfied and content, to avoid pain

fundy - type 7w6

fundy grew up in constant distress, what with his dad kinda losing it and the constant political turmoil. fundy has acknowledged that there is nothing that comes from conflict except for personal gain. fundy is selfish (taking netherite meant for everyone, hardly taking other people’s feelings into account) by nature of the society he was born into. like most distressed 7s, he has mood swings and comes off as demanding. i gave fundy a 6 wing because of what i see as the origin of his issues: a lack of support and stability. because of this, fundy often seeks external solutions (material possessions) instead of internal ones (fucking THERAPY OH MY GOD).

badboyhalo - type 7w6

“l’manberg? pogtopia? who cares?” :D

type 8: the challenger

self-confident, decisive, willful, confrontational

desire: to protect themselves, to be in control of their own life

dream - type 8w7

(warning, a lot of this typing is based on my own theories about the smp, because dream doesn’t stream rp to give us his own perspective.) dream claims that his motivation, at least presently, is to cause as much chaos as possible, but this has to come from a more philosophical place. dream is the one who started the server, and, i believe, canonically created the world they all populate. dream’s rule was originally questioned by the creation of l’manberg, which he interpreted as a personal attack. as a type 8 would, he is attempting to destroy all that does not conform to the vision he has for a peaceful, unified server. this may make it seem like dream should have 9 wing, but i don’t believe stability factors into his reasoning. dream seeks fun, for himself and others, and also finds this by causing chaos, as mentioned before.

technoblade - type 8w7

now, just because techno and dream have the same enneagram typing here does not mean they are at all similar. techno also lashes out at things that do not conform to his vision (anarchy) but has a stronger connection to his 7 wing. he wants to protect himself because of the comfort and happiness that would provide, not exclusively to be in control. he cares more about the pain and suffering caused by the government. still, i don’t think techno’s primary motivation is to be happy, as he still causes harm and puts himself in danger in order to achieve his goals. when a type 7 would become depressed and isolated, techno decides to spawn six withers. to each their own.

type 9: the peacemaker

receptive, reassuring, agreeable, complacent

desire: to have inner stability, to avoid loss

ghostbur - type 9w1

more than anyone on the server, ghostbur is a two-dimensional character. (absolutely not meant in a negative way. i adore ghostbur as both comic relief and a consistent character. ghostbur simply doesn’t behave like a normal person, and that is the point.) this makes it difficult to type him, but i tried my best. ultimately, ghostbur cares about others, but not in the way a 2 does. blatant negativity from people he interacts with doesn’t affect him in the slightest. he hands out blue because he is good, hence the 1 wing, and not to be loved. the only time (i can remember) that ghostbur has expressed anger was when friend the sheep was killed in techno and dream’s terrorism upon l’manberg. loss is the only thing he seems to be afraid of, and he applies this to all people within the smp. 

philza - type 9w8

to put it nicely, philza is a mediator. to put it not-so nicely, he doesn’t give a fuck. philza has actually achieved much of the goals a 9 has, making him an anomaly on the smp. (most every one of these characters expresses extremely unhealthy characteristics of their type.) philza is accepting of others, and does more listening than speaking. however, philza still feels the effects of loss from murdering his own son in cold blood (just minecraft things <3) and presumably fears losing something else important to him, thus forming few attachments (ex: didn’t care his house in l’manberg got blown up, didn’t react much to tommy’s betrayal.) i typed him as a wing 8 because of his healthy self-confidence and confrontationalism.

please keep in mind that this is all referring to the dream smp characters these streamers portray. i don’t claim to know anything about their deeper philosophical reasoning for whatever they do irl. not really on that parasocial type beat, ya feel me? i would love to hear your thoughts.

 thanks for reading!

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Capt. Syverson-Chapter Two: Therapeutic Procedure

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: Shane and Sy share some moments during their treatment sessions…and a phone call that could set the tone for the next few weeks.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: None, yet… ;)

Author’s Note: Sorry, I was so eager and excited to post the first chapter of this last night, I totally put some inaccurate info in my description notes. I will correct that in the original post and  try to do better henceforth! Hope you enjoy Sy and Shane totally flirting some more and getting more friendly in this chapter. Feedback is appreciated! Even constructive criticism! :D

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism. 

Tags: @onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive @summersong69 @titty-teetee

Let me know if you wish to be added to the list! I’m happy to do it!

Shane woke up that morning with knots in her stomach. She dropped every product she picked up in the shower, she was shaking so much. She accidentally ordered the wrong coffee on her way to work and was now drinking something much less caffeinated and far too sweet for her taste. The barista had informed her it was a grande caramel macchiato with an extra pump of vanilla and extra caramel drizzle…with only two shots of espresso…she couldn't begin to describe how wrong that drink was for her. But it was better than nothing, she told herself, not fully convincingly.

She had chosen her clothes with extra care, even though, with the dress code, her options were limited. And she had made sure to put on a bit of mascara and just a touch of perfume, even though they weren't strictly supposed to wear it…she didn't know why she was bothering.

Well, actually, she did know why. She had been checking her schedule extra diligently lately to make sure she didn't look like a hobo when Sy was coming in. He'd been coming for three weeks now, and after the initial bellyaching about Jordan not being as pretty as her…her heart!...and his feeling extra sore after his visits with him, they were on a roll and had a great chemistry together as far as their treatments went…she tried not to think about…beyond the world of therapy.

She thought back to their first session after she got back from her trip. And the conversation they had.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I think the next time you can't see me, I'm just going to cancel." he had sulked as he wiggled his mass of muscle onto the mat.

"Sy, no. you need therapy. Don't be like that to Jordan. He's an excellent therapist."

"He ain't you though." he smirked, sending her heart racing with that smile that somehow managed to look both boyish and rakish under his full, dark beard. Fucking hell. He needed to stop.

"Well, we can't fault him for that, can we? Lay back, Mister." She demanded. Done with the niceties of the evaluation and onto the treatments where she was in charge. The boss.

"Yes, sir!" she laughed at his clear avoidance of calling her ma'am.

"So where'd you go last week? Vacation or stay-cation?" he asked, the term "stay-cation" sounding downright comical coming out of his country-boy mouth.

"I went to the beach. Gulf Shores."

"I thought you looked like you got some sun."

"Yeah," she pretended his noticing the detail of her awesome tan did not send her reeling. "My folks rented a condo right on the water for my siblings and I to come and stay with them. They're still there. It was tough to leave all that beauty." the beach, pretty much any beach, was her favorite place to be.

"I bet…" he looked at her, something dreamy in his eyes, but he looked away before she could process it. "I thought I had my fill of sand and sun when I was over in Iraq. But you make it sound…like paradise." he smiled softly up at her as she worked on his knee, trying to break apart some of the scar tissue from the injuries and surgeries he'd had…and focus on that, and not the warmth rising in her.

"That's the perfect way to describe any place on the Gulf of Mexico. I doubt it's anything like Iraq, since there's so much water around. It's my favorite vacation destination. Well, apart from London."

"Them British folks always seem so stuck up. Don't know if I'd get along with any of 'em."

"It felt like a second home for me. Everyone was very kind and polite, for the most part. At least it was no worse than it is here."

"Maybe it's just because you're so nice."

"Wait 'til about week eight or ten of your protocol. You won't think I'm nice then. You'll be cussing me out and ready to ring my neck."

"Promise?" he asked, a dark grin on his lips and in his eyes…she faltered for a moment, gulping.

"Cut it out, Syverson." she rolled her eyes, covering…without great effect the way he made her feel.

"Yes...ma'am." he smirked with satisfaction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And now, today, she'd be treating him again, fairly early in the day, and she had to prepare herself. She'd checked the policy, and although there wasn't anything strictly against dating a patient, it was clearly a conflict of interest, and would be frowned upon by her frigid tyrant of a boss. Best to let things remain platonic for now.

Her 9:30 was a no show, so she finished up some notes and was working on some continuing education credits when messenger popped up around 10:00.

Sergeant Sexypants is here. He's quite early and he knows it…*smirk emoji* he must like you, Shane!

Heather, come on, be respectful…he was discharged at the rank of Captain! *rofl emoji* and I think you might be right about him liking me…*nervous emoji*

Oooooooooh!!! You guys are gonna *couple kissing emoji* *eggplant emoji* *okay emoji* *explosion emoji* *baby emoji*

Omg…*three facepalm emojis* I am going to go ahead and start him early since my 9:30 was a NCNS.

Don't finish him too early. Make it last. *smirk emoji*

Jeez. She closed the chat and went to grab him from the waiting area.

"Hey Sy, you ready?"

"You bet, sunshine!" he flashed her a crooked smile. He was calling her sunshine now…ad that to the list of things she'd have to pretend didn't make her swoon.

"Great. Let's start on the bike. How's the knee feeling today?"

"Oh, it's…about the same. Stiff. Lil' sore."

"Well, it's a slow process, like I told you at your eval. You've got a lot going on in there."

"I know…just…it hasn't taken me four weeks to do anything in my life." he sulked. "So…thinking about this taking…twelve or more…" he grimaced as he sat down on the bike, and adjusted it for his longer than average legs, putting his feet in the pedal stirrups.

"You may not see it, Sy, because you're so close to it, but trust me, you're making progress. I can tell you're doing your exercises at home, and you're always willing to put in the work here. You have no idea how much that sets you apart from…some of these other people." she leaned in closer and spoke the last part more quietly to him. It was true. So many of her patients were either lazy or just in it to appease their MDs into writing them scripts for pain meds. That wasn't Sy.

"You really think so?" he gave her the side eye with his baby blues, crushing her with the color like the waves of the ocean she'd just returned from.

"In fact, I know so." she placed a reassuring hand on his broad and thick shoulder. She felt the tension between them hum, like electric current.

"Now, level one, and a steady pace. You're not trying to win any medals here. I'll take those crutches."

"When ya think I can 86 'em damn things?" he griped as he handed over the assistive devices.

"Well, you see Potter again tomorrow? I'll write an update today and send it to him. If he likes what he reads, or more likely pretends to read, regarding your progress, he may discharge them. Do you feel like you can be good to the knee and treat it nice without using crutches? I don't want you to regress and re-injure yourself. That's not gonna get you into your running shoes any sooner."

"I'll be nice. Real gentle." he winked at her…he wasn't just talking about the knee. And she knew it. But again, she pretended she didn't, ignoring once more those butterflies threatening to choke her they were multiplying so fast in her belly.

"Okay, I'll put that in my note. Patient compliant with instructions to be nice." she laughed.

They talked as they biked, Shane sat on the one next to him and pedaled along with him for something to do other than be idle. She thought it made him feel better as well. Like he wasn't doing it alone. They covered the subject of her siblings, an older brother in IT and a younger sister who was an MA, and his German Shepherd, Aika, which he was allowed to bring home from Iraq after they were both honorably discharged. Music, both of them completely in agreeance about the superiority of classic rock.

"I noticed you've worn a Lynyrd Skynyrd shirt a few times and meant to say something before now."

"Yeah, they're one of my favorites. But there are a few newer groups that I like a lot, too. Kings of Leon got me through some tough times, honestly."

"Oh, they're great! I love their sound. And their lyrics…poetry."

"No shit. Sorry." she shook her head and raised up her hands to indicate that he didn't need to apologize to her for swearing. She'd been known to make sailors blush when she was off the clock. "Only by the Night…that whole album is…it's just in my blood, ya know? Ya ever have an album do that?"

"I have. Whole artists catalogs, actually."

"Which artist?" he prodded.

"The Beatles. Pretty much every song. Like you said, it just, like, I dunno, it's almost deeper than the veins. It's in the marrow. My soul." she stared off out the windows ahead of them, thinking about her favorite band in the world and how magical it was to experience Sir Paul McCartney playing some of her favorites live…twice…and the timer on the bike went off, pulling her from her daydream.

She looked over at him, startled by both the noise, and the dreamy look in his eyes that was becoming all too familiar.

"Sorry." she stood, grabbing his crutches for him and handing them back to him from where she had leaned them as they rode.

"Hey, don't be sorry for…ahem…for loving what you love. We should all…hold on to the things that make us feel like that." she nodded.

"Thanks…I don't think a lot of people…understand the way I…my tendency to take things like music, movies, and shows…books…so deeply to my heart." they walked to the treatment room from the gym, taking their time, since they had it. A rare occurrence for Shane, always needing to capitalize on every spare minute. To make productivity a priority.

"I think…that…well, seeing a pretty grim side of the world like I have…seems like there's enough darkness and bullshit making everyone miserable. If we find something…or…someone…that brings us some happiness or even just makes that misery bearable…we oughta hang onto 'em real tight. Cherish it like gold." the silence in the small room was loud with that electrical hum of their tension again. He'd said all the right things, as he always seemed to, but under the absolute wrong circumstances. She just nodded.

"They teach you philosophy in Basic?" she giggled. He laughed back in response.

"Oh, no, Basic was way easier than…whatever goes on inside of us."

"Speaking of which," she segued deftly, "lay back, and let my try to get some range out of that knee before I take new measurements for this update I'm gonna write."

"Yes, ma'am!" he chuckled.

"You get some sick thrill out of calling me that, don't you?" she scowled playfully at him.

"Oh, you have no idea…ma'am." he winked at her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Shane was wondering how Sy's appointment went as she ate her soup at lunch and caught up on her morning notes. She got a ping on messenger.

You have a gentleman caller…*eggplant emoji*  hehe, he's on line three.

Geez…thanks Heather.

No need to ask for a name. She knew Heather meant Sy.

She picked up the phone at her desk in the treatment room.

"Hey Sy! How'd the appointment go?"

"Hey, sunshine…eh…he said I'm doin' good, but he wants me to stay on crutches another two weeks." she could hear grave disappointment in his voice. She felt for him.

"Aww, I'm sorry Sy. I know you wanted off those. And I know they're a pain. Literally and figuratively."

"Why wouldn't he want me off 'em?" he was so frustrated. He must have just left the office.

"Did you ask him that question?"

"You know doctors, Shane. Not like I would have got an answer in plain English. Figured you'd know."

"Well, I haven't seen your post-visit report, but it's my presumption that he wants to play it safe. You know he spent most of his day in the operating room with you, right? An eight hour surgery, you had. He probably doesn't want to undo all that by d/c'ing the crutches too soon."

"I was gonna be careful though, Shane!" he was worked up properly, and she could hear it over the roar of his pickup in the background.

"I know you were, Sy. I'm sure you were going to take all kinds of precautions. But what if you're walking into your kitchen, during a storm, and there's a loud clap of thunder, and Aika gets startled and busts past you? What if you're feeling good one day, and forget about it, and jog to catch up to someone holding the door open for you and miss a stick or something under foot? You can't prepare yourself for every pebble or patch of mud in your path, Sy. Accidents will happen. Some circumstances are beyond our control…we just have to do the best we can. The crutches are going to help you until we get you stronger. That's what we'll focus on until those two weeks are up."

"Why is it you can calm me down like this?" he asked, sincere and truly calmer than he had been.

"I'm just a good therapist, is all."

"Ya don't think that's really all, do ya?" the sound of his deep drawl in her ear from the receiver made her shiver. He was implying something that she just couldn't entertain. It wasn't possible for them right now. Maybe…down the road…in a few weeks…

"I'll see ya tomorrow, Sy. Come ready to work that knee."

"You didn't say no…" he was too hopeful. Damn it, he was cute when he was hopeful. She was glad she couldn't see his face light up like she knew it was doing.

"You may have noted I didn't say yes, either."

"Yet. See ya in the mornin', sunshine."

"Bye, Sy."

She put the receiver in the cradle and her face in her hands.

"Shit."

She had a feeling this particular patient was about to become much more complicated.

Up Next: Chapter Three-Therapeutic Activity

[jbbarnesandnoble]

Risky Business: One-Shot

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: celebrating valentine's day with your husband doesn't always mean getting dolled up to go out.

Warning(s): dorky bucky, fluff, the title really doesn't have much to do with the fic except for like one part.

Word Count: 1,171

Prompt: literally that one scene from risky business

A/N: hello my loves! I wanted to do something a little extra for yall this Valentine's day! So here I am bringing you this fic! I hope you all enjoy it, feel free to let me know what you think! I love hearing from yall💕 i wish you all a happy Valentine's day! You all are so loved even if you don't have anyone to celebrate with. That's ok! I love you all💕😘

(not my gif)

Work was never a part of your plan for the day. It is Valentine's Day, all you wanted to do was have a lazy morning with your husband. Then get all dolled up for a fancy dinner tonight. You were more than happy for a day off. But when your boss asked if you could come in, you knew that wasn't going to happen. You tried to convince Bucky that you weren't going in. They didn't really need you. But of course, he argued against it. Said your reservation for tonight will still be there whether you work or not.

Which is why at four p.m sharp, you're gathering all your things to get home. A knock on your office door interrupts that. "Hey, y/n. There's another issue." Fear trickles down your spine, knowing where this is going. "It's all hands on deck." You smile politely, fighting back a frustrated scream. Your bag lands with a thunk against the chair behind you. Reluctantly, you pull out your phone. Fingers dialing your husbands number.

__

Seven fifty-six

That's the time when you finally pull into the driveway of your home, throwing the car into park. You jump out, rushing inside. Apologies already spilling from your lips. The door flies open, "Babe, I am so, so sorry. I tried to leave but they…" whatever you were about to say next dies in your throat. They are instantly forgotten at the sight in front of you.

"Bucky?" You call out. The house is dark, except for the light glow of the fireplace. Silence, you call his name again. Stepping into your home, the door shuts with a soft click behind you. You aren't worried. His car was out front so you know he has to be home. And it isn't like this is something unusual, the two of you are constantly pulling pranks on each other.

"Are we having another nerf gun fight? Cause I come unarmed." You throw your hands up in surrender. Yes, you are both grown adults. Yes, you occasionally have nerf gun fights in the home you own together.

More silence. Then music, blaring through the speakers. The hallway light flicks on. On par with the upbeat song. Bucky slides into the room, facing away from you. Singing starts. He spins around, leg high in the air. Using a ladle as his microphone.

Just take those old records off the shelf

I'll sit and listen to 'em by m'self

Today's music ain't got the same soul

I like that old time rock and roll

Giggles bubble in your chest and escape through your lips. How you managed to marry the sexiest and dorkiest man alive, you have no idea. But you love him so much. It's then you notice his attire. Which only adds to your growing laughter. He is wearing a pink Angel onesie -Stitch's girlfriend from the Lilo & Stitch TV show- with the feet and a hood to match.

Call me a relic call me what'cha will

Say I'm old fashioned say I'm over the hill

Today's music ain't got the same soul

I like that old time rock and roll

He slides on his knees across the floor, stopping at your feet. The song ends. You're a laughing, smiling mess by the time he's done.

Still like that old time rock and roll

Standing up, he pulls you into a loving kiss. "You're such a dork." You say through you slowing giggles. His arms wrapped around your waist, he pulls you closer. Smiling as wide as you are. "You can make up for calling me that, by being a dork with me." He says, still slightly breathless from his dance routine. A mischievous glint in the blue of his eyes.

An eyebrow raised, you question what he means. Moving around the couch, he grabs a nicely wrapped gift box from the coffee table.

"I'm sorry we missed our reservation." You mumble as he nears you. Still feeling horrible for being late. He watches you a moment, box in one hand ladle in the other. "Are you kidding me?" He says after a beat. You meet his gaze. He isn't mad, in fact the smile on his lips tells you he's happy. "I get to spend an entire night at home, being a dork with my amazing wife! Eating as much candy and chocolates as we want." He exclaimed, a boyish grin on his face. The one he used to wear when you were young.

"Doll, if you think I need to go out to have a good time with you, you are incredibly wrong." He says and you know he's teasing you. You smile, he's right and you both know it. "I do have one question though. Why are you wearing the Angel onesie?" You ask confused why that would be his first choice. Without a word. He hands you the box. Inside you find your answer. A matching Stitch onesie. You can't help but smile at Bucky's thoughtfulness. Stitch is your all time favorite character. The fact that Bucky let you be him shows how much he loves you.

"Plus, I am rocking this color. It compliments my features, don't you think?" You laugh again, nodding along. "You look great babe. The pink suits you."

"Glad you agree, now I can destroy you." Leaving you there confused, he leans over the couch. Picking up a nerf gun, he shoots you. The styrofoam bullets fly every which way.

"Hey no fair, you got a head start."

"You snooze you lose, babydoll."

Covering your face an impish grin spreads across your face. You kneel on the floor, hunched over in pretend pain. "Ow ow ow, babe, you got my eye."

Panic washes over Bucky as he rushes to your side. He kneels next to you. "I'm so sorry, are you okay? Let me see." Panic rises in his voice and you begin to feel bad. But you don't back down. He drops the gun next to your feet. His hands fly to your face. Now. You think, grabbing the gun. You start shooting him back, laughing like a maniac.

"Now who's cheating?" He tries -and fails- to sound angry. Picking you up he tickles your sides until your breathless.

"I surrender." You manage to force out. Still laughing.

He sets you down on the couch, jumping over the back next to you. "Isn't this better than going out?" You in agreement, still winded from being attacked with tickles. "So, we are watching Lilo & Stitch, right?"

"Of course!" He announces before you can finish your question. While Bucky sets up the movie, you get changed into your new pajamas. They're soft and cozy, you feel like a child in them. You love it.

Hopping back on the couch, you snuggle next to your husband. "Happy Valentine's day, I love you." He whispers in your ear. His breath is hot against your skin. "Happy Valentine's day, I love you too." You smile up at him and the movie starts.

>>>>>>

A/N: I literally had the most fun writing this, it made me giggle and I hope it made you laugh too!

[dajaregambler]

HeliosR - Mission of CASINO Event story - Chapter 1

Translation of chapter 1 of the event ‘Mission of CASINO’ from ‘Helios Rising Heroes’.

Keith: No more bets

Keith: Your hand is, 8… 18…. Any draws?

Keith: Stay huh, 'kay. My hand is, 9, 16-

Keith: ….20. Alright, it’s my win

Guest A: Awah, I lost eh. Been some time since I came here and yet luck still won’t come my way

Guest B: You’re pretty insightful. Been doing this kinda work for a while?

Keith: Nah, had an other job before I came here. Got hired here just few days ago. 

Guest B: Heeh~ Aren’t you quite the genius?

Keith: It ain’t like that y’know. Only got hired since they don’t got enough staff around here 

Guest A: Not enough… True, everytime I come here more than half of the staff gets changed up.

Guest A: This isn't anything special to here but, there's been some bad rumors floating round the place. Don’t know if it’d be better for you to go hurry up and search for some other place to work at.

Guest B: Long time ago we’d often come to this place to play however… lately this whole place’s atmosphere did a complete 180.

Keith: ...Heeh, thanks for telling me some interesting stuff

Keith: Though since I finally got hired here, I ain’t gonna give up that easily. 

Guest A: Right… You must also have it rough.

Keith: Haha, sure do. Am havin’ it pretty rough

-

Keith: Haaah~~~~

Keith: (Playing one game with customers is enough to wear me out…Seriously, I’d be long gone if I could call it quits.)

Keith: (Though, can’t afford to do that…)

Keith: (Guess I’ll kick back for a sec)

Staff A: Hey! Are you loitering around again? 

Keith: Loitering? Nah, just goin’ for a break

Staff A: How many times are you going to say it’s a break. Geez, we don’t have enough hands around here, should’ve hired a more hardworking guy...

Keith: But, going on off on yer employment criteria, ain’t the chance of some ‘decent’ guy getting hired pretty low?

Staff A: ...That might be the case-

Staff A: Uh, that’s not it! The guys I hired until now worked far better than you did. Don’t blame that laziness of yours on the employment criteria!

Keith: Ah, yeah yeah. First I’mma have a smoke and then go entertain the guests

???: Uoooooh!

Keith: Mh? That was pretty damn loud…..

Staff A: Aah, a new employee’s coming in today. A trainee dealer if I’m not mistaken

Staff A: Oi, newbie! C’mere!

???: !! Yes…!

Keith: …!

Staff A: Starting from today you’re a new employee. Doesn’t seem like he got any skill in particular, that’s why he’s a trainee dealer. Um, name was… 

Junior: ...It is Leonard, sir.

Staff A: Ah, that was it. So, same story as always, this guy got introduced to our business ‘cuz he was all alone, got no family and had no job.

Keith: Heheh, all alone huh…

Junior: You- don’t laugh about it!

Keith: Aah my bad. Just thinking youngins got it rough~ 

Keith: Guess I’ll introduce myself. I’m Keith, I’m the same as you, nothing more than a recently employed newbie

Keith: I got employed here ‘cuz I’m also all alone with no family, and had no job either. Huhuh

Junior: I told you to not laugh about it, bastard…

Junior: ...Anyway, shouldn’t you say something like ‘’Nice to meet you’’ at a time like this? Even if it’s only for the sake of being polite.  

Keith: Ya think so? We don’t know each other's real name or background here, ain’t interested in being polite. 

Staff A: Geez, get some manners. Either way, I have some business to attend, teach him about this place’s basics.

Keith: Eeeh, the hell with that. I just started working here, I’m sure there’s more suitable guys around here

Staff A: You’ll laze around if I don’t give you any work. Either way, I’m leaving it to you

Keith: Man, way to push all the annoying stuff on me...

Keith: Uhm, Ju….Leonard was it? Got no choice here, guess we’ll work together from now on.

Junior: ….Oi, how long are you planning to do this?

Keith: Hm-? Dunno what you’re going on ‘bout~?

Junior: Gh! I already told you, how long are you gonna play pretend!

Keith: Oi oi, keep your voice down~ We’re putting up an act here after all. 

Keith: Anyways, didn’t think I’d be meeting you here this soon already though

Junior: Aren’t I pretty lucky since I was able to join up quickly on my own. All thanks to how I'm always on my best behaviour★

Keith: My plan was to take my sweet time with joining up together, y‘know~ 

Junior: Haah? Seriously, did you goddamn forget what were doing here to begin with or something!?

-

Notes:

For those curious, they’re playing a round of Blackjack in the beginning :]

[i-am-gusu]

On January 23rd. I already wrote about the morning. Wei Ying bringing me breakfast in bed. He told me since then that he barely slept at all that night. "It was more a case of being still awake rather than waking up early," he said. We stayed in bed for a long time after we were done eating, just talking. Well, mostly, it was Wei Ying talking about the birthday, and how Uncle really wanted me to be there, and how important family is and "I just don't want you to have any regrets." 

That should have been my cue to tell him… 

… No, not today. I can do this. 

I can do this. I want to do this.

I want to do this. 

Wei Ying had to pull me out of bed, since I was very much intent on not leaving the soft cocoon of our blankets. I did make it harder for him, playing dead weight, and his laughter breaking in my room only made me pretend more. I shouldn't have been surprised when, after five minutes of pulling on my arms to get me closer to the edge of the bed, he lifted me with an arm under my knees and the other on my back and carried me to the bathroom for me to shower. He has done so many times since, often coming with me *in* the shower, which he didn’t do then but… it was close. I know I had to force myself to push him out of the bathroom rather than pull him in with me.

When I got out, Wei Ying was still in pajamas, cleaning up the remains of our breakfast. I remember looking at him, softly humming to himself at the sink, and thinking how much I wanted to just walk up behind him and leave a kiss at the back of his neck… I now realize I haven’t had the opportunity to do just that yet…

Note to self: Let Wei Ying clean the dishes tonight. Just so I can kiss him that way. 

… I should get back to this. 

Wei Ying and I spent some time together on the couch, watching yet again some cartoons that I have grown fond of, and around mid-afternoon, we agreed we should get dressed. I have grown fond of these lazy days too, dressing up much later than my usual, just… just existing for a few more hours as I am, rather than as I should be. I should be a Lan in all circumstances, always prepared, always elegant, never messy. And… I guess a part of that is who I am too but… It is very nice not to push myself to be my family’s name, and to just be me. 

I’m deeply thankful that this is who Wei Ying sees. Who Wei Ying loves.

…

This is going to take me much longer than I thought it would. I know I’m avoiding going into what needs to be said…

I can do this. Even if I don’t finish, I’m getting there. I can do this. I can’t afford to lose any more time... 

We dressed up. Wei Ying struggled with his tie and I remember wondering about his shaking fingers and his nervous smile as I worked on his tie for him. I remember him telling me he was just anticipating going into “the society” again. I remember telling him we didn’t have to go, we could just stay home and spend the evening together. I remember Wei Ying laughing, holding my hands, insisting we go. “Your uncle prepared this for you.” I remember not caring as much as Wei Ying did. I remember giving in because Wei Ying wouldn’t let go. I remember giving in because I wanted… I didn’t want to fight. I didn’t want to disappoint Wei Ying. I didn’t want him to think less of me because I was being unfilial. 

Maybe I should have fought. Maybe I should have been unfilial. Maybe… 

I can’t afford to think of what could have happened right now. I need to focus. 

… I don’t like what I am focusing on. I don’t like seeing this side of me, plainly written. Wei Ying mentionned it in his blog posts… I… still haven’t read them all. The posts he wrote during that time. I know I’ll have to. Eventually. It will probably be required to move forward in our therapy. I just… I stopped reading after the… the 3rd day, I think? Perhaps the 4th. It hurt too much. But… I read some of what Wei Ying told Huaisang. Huaisang and I talked about that too afterwards. I told him he is not at fault. I still believe so. 

Wei Ying is not at fault either. 

I still… I still don’t like seeing this. I thought… I…

I’ve always thought I was someone who was able to stand by their principles. Rigid. Stubborn. I’ve heard people say that about me before. But… It was all lies, wasn’t it? All I am good at is hiding. Hiding. Hiding everything that lurks beneath the surface, the hopes, the desires. Anything that might bring conflict with someone I care about. Anything that might make them think I am not worthy of them in the end. Anything that might make them punish me for the wrongs I did. Huaisang, Xichen, Wei Ying… I only fought with Xichen when it’s about the Lan family, because I do not care about the Lans anymore. I stopped caring about them a long time ago. Even if I care about my brother. Huaisang, I already had that conversation with him. Wei Ying… Wei Ying happens to be the first person whose decisions align so perfectly with my desires, I would follow him into the unknown in a heartbeat. I did many times before and never regretted those times.

But… I see this now and… I hate seeing it… Because Wei Ying is not at fault and I don’t want him to believe he is. I would follow him into the unknown in a heartbeat and I mean it. But the Lans… I know them too much. I know the expectations too much.

I hate them too much. 

I didn’t want to go to that birthday party. Even if it was held by my uncle. Even if so many people would be disappointed in me. I wasn’t afraid of disappointing them. But I was afraid of disappointing Wei Ying. I was afraid of fighting with Wei Ying. I didn’t want to go to that birthday party. And… I didn’t tell him. I wasn’t resolute enough. I should have been more resolute. I should have insisted more. I should have told him that all I wanted was to spend my birthday with him, only him, no one else…

… I should have refused my uncle’s invitation altogether. I should have said no. 

… I need to discuss this with my therapist tomorrow. I… I think this is important… 

Wei Ying wanted us to go, and I agreed. It was not what I wanted, but it was my decision nonetheless. I chose to go. And… Wei Ying smiled at me, and I remember thinking everything will be alright if he’s with me. I remember thinking that everything is worth it with him by my side. I remember thinking that, perhaps, the milieu I grew up in has changed. Perhaps I should give it another chance. Perhaps I should give my family another chance, even if I still couldn’t think of them as such. Perhaps they would be welcoming to Wei Ying. 

I should have seen it coming. I should have known. I should have been more firm in my decision not to go. I should have never agreed to Uncle’s invitation. 

Of course, he decided to invite everyone in our circle. Not just the Lans and the Nies, but the Jins and the Jiangs too. Uncle never mentioned them in his invitation. And yet, they were there, the same people who hurt Wei Ying so badly. Madam Yu was the only representative of the Jiangs present. The Jins decided to come en masse though. I still can’t believe Jin Zixun had been invited at all. 

I told Wei Ying we should leave the moment I saw them in the ancestral Lan mansion. I grabbed his arm and pulled towards the door, nevermind that they took Xichen’s car away already, nevermind that they just removed our coats and welcomed us there. But Wei Ying… He smiled and shrugged it off and “This is for you, Lan Zhan,” and held onto my hand tighter. And I just… followed him when he pulled me towards my uncle to greet him and thank him for the birthday. 

I remember… feeling the eyes of the people around following me, following us, whispers and murmurs added to the scrutiny, all of which reminded me why I left at all. Xichen had already taken his leave to greet Meng Yao. Mingjue and Huaisang were on our periphery, too far away to walk towards without insulting anyone around us. There were so many people, too many, all wishing me a happy birthday, none of them asking about Wei Ying, and I hated them all the more for that, yet I still managed to slip into that mask I used to wear, thanking them with a nod but never a smile. I had hoped that he would think of them, but uncle didn’t extend his invitation to Aunt Yi and Baoshan. I wish they had been there. I wish I had seen a few more people whom I knew truly cared. Instead, there was Madam Yu, looking at Wei Ying with disdain, offering me the bare minimum of birthday wishes, before leaving as early as politeness offered. There was Jin Zixun, insisting I drink with him. 

It happened much later. Before that, the event was as I expected it to be. This was not for my birthday. It was only another occasion for the big families to gather and discuss business and trade. I stood awkwardly on the sides, wondering why I was there at all, why uncle even bothered with organizing all of this. It was all pretense. I didn’t taste the cake. I knew it would be horrendous, a pale copy of what a good cake should be. Wei Ying confirmed it to me when he dared take a bite. 

The evening was more humiliating than anything. But Wei Ying… Wei Ying made things bearable. He kept chattering at me through the evening, always touching me one way or the other, and I found myself grounded by the way his hand settled on my arm or on my back. He wouldn’t linger, but… it made a difference. Huaisang too, but he seemed concentrated on something else at the time, eyes focused on the crowd the same Mingjue’s were. Huaisang told me they have been hired for security when I asked them then. Later, when he told me the truth and apologized for not letting me know before, I understood better.

Birthdays and “informal” events are often used for “informal” business ventures. I was aware of that, even though I never saw the purpose of doing so myself. Neither had Xichen, as far as I am aware. I never expected there would be such a deal right under Uncle’s nose. 

I am… getting ahead of myself. This is information in the midst of everything, when Wei Ying was away. I’m… surprised that I retained anything at all from what I was told, giving the state I was in too… 

… 

It was around 10h30, I believe. Madame Yu was already gone, even if some who accompanied her stayed. Most had taken liberties with their clothes, removing vests, ties and high heels, the only advantage of being at an informal event. Wei Ying kept his intact, despite how often I saw him toying with the neck of his shirt. I remember asking him if perhaps I had tied the knot of his tie too tight and he smiled at me and “absolutely not, it’s perfect!” and then walked away to grab water for the both us, he said. That’s when Jin Zixun strutted towards me and offered me alcohol. I remembered what he did to Wei Ying and simply ignored him. The only attention this man deserved would be that of my fist on his face, and I knew it wouldn’t do to do so here. I wanted to leave as soon as possible, and causing a scene would only force us to stay longer dealing with the consequences of such a thing. I did remember that from the time I broke his arm. Jin Zixun, however, didn’t seem to remember that as he started speaking louder, sneering at how “the great Lan Wangji thinks himself so much better than everyone else, refusing to share a simple drink for his birthday.” I felt sick at his tone, at the attention everyone turned on us, at the whispers starting again. I still ignored him. I remember Xichen offering to drink for me and Jin Zixun offering him a glass of his own, insisting we should all drink together to celebrate this day. I remember seeing Dage looking at us, arms crossed, slowly making his way towards us. But then, Wei Ying was in front of me. I remember the bite in his voice, the challenge, “I will drink for him,” and all I could see was the back of his head as he downed the glass still offered to me in one go. I remember the frown on Jin Zixun’s face before he smirked and walked away. And then, for a few minutes, I thought it was over. Xichen met Mingjue halfway through and they discussed together quietly while Wei Ying pulled me towards a corner, mumbling about how much of an asshole Jin Zixun is, asking me if I was okay, if I was hungry, “I haven’t seen you eat much at all tonight, Lan Zhan, you must eat!” and I told him I was okay, and he smiled, and I thought… I thought everything was okay. He was smiling. Giggling. Telling stupid jokes that I had assumed were only so we could forget about what happened. I don’t remember how much time passed. But then, he caught once in the middle of a joke, and started laughing. And laughing. And laughing… I remember feeling confused. And then smiling at his mirth, asking him what was so funny. He never responded. And then… Then, his laughter didn’t sound right anymore. Too loud. The edge of it became too sharp. I remember grabbing his arm, asking him what’s wrong, but he pushed me away hard enough that I stumbled back two steps. And he kept laughing, and laughing. It’s only when I noticed the tears escaping his eyes that I saw how blown out his pupils were. There was nothing left of the grey of his irises. I remember my uncle asking what’s wrong with him. I remember other voices speaking badly about Wei Ying. And then, one of them got louder than the rest, Jin Zixun snickering about “Lan Wangji’s drug addict boyfriend.” I would have turned around and punched him in the face, but then Wei Ying fell on the ground and started seizing and… and…

[masked-buffoon]

Chapter 13: Filled emptiness (Part 2)

Warnings: cursing, angst, mentions of addiction

Author notes: that one is a very long part (around 3k words...). I tried to separate it, but it just wouldn’t fit, so here you go...! I think it’s been too long since we’ve had angst, so, as an author, it is my duty to write some for you XD please enjoy it!

"Kunikida-kun is so annoying~" Dazai whined as we arrived at his place "I did help the two of you~"

"Won't you admit that you could have done so earlier…?" I raised an eyebrow, removing my shoes.

"Well, it isn't wrong that it was funny to see you struggle…~" He chuckled.

"See…?" I sighed "That's why Kunikida is so tired of you…"

"Is that so?" He shrugged it off "I didn't know~"

I gave up trying to reason him. After all, messing around with our coworker was also something I did, although less than Dazai.

Even though it had almost been half a year, I still did not have a place of my own. The money I had started saving was not enough to rent an apartment, after all. For the moment, I thus stayed at my friend's, who had not lent me his bedroom. His place was divided in two rooms; a bedroom and a living one, where he was supposed to eat. I was his guest but he had graciously accepted to make me sleep in the living room… What a perfect gentleman Dazai was… Hopefully, I would soon be able to get my own apartment in the Agency's dormitory and sleep in my own comfortable windowless bedroom instead of waking up everyday because of the daylight.

"What about opening a bottle of sake to celebrate the end of the case?" He suggested.

"I don't want to drink tonight…" I declined "Tomorrow, I have an appointment with Yosano-sensei for my… Detoxification therapy…"

"Oh, I see." He did not insist "Let's just have a quiet evening then~"

"I'd like that." I smiled "By the way, did I tell you Uemura-san would teach me how to cook?"

"You didn't. That's great~"

"That's obviously not to feed you." I huffed "It is so I don't have to eat crab cans my entire life."

"You're mean…~ I do eat instant noodles as well…~"

"I can finally eat properly after all this time, it's not to have a diet based exclusively on junk food." I said simply.

"You might be right after all." He hummed "So, should we order something tonight?"

"... I'm still saving money..." I looked away.

"And I'm already indebted to the cafe beneath the Agency… I suppose that's either instant noodles or crab can tonight~"

He had tricked me again…

After eating frugally yet another evening and taking a relaxing bath, I unfolded the futon I borrowed from Dazai and let myself flop down on the mellow blanket, exhausted. Unexpectedly, my friend lied next to me.

"What are you doing…?" I questioned, eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm too lazy to go to my room…~ Besides, can't I stay with my friend~?"

"You've never done that before…" I noted. Is there a reason for your sudden behaviour?"

"You're wrong…" He chuckled, pulling a book out of nowhere "We've already been in a similar situation… Numerous times…"

"Cancelling my ability doesn't count…" I looked away.

He sighed slightly and casually started flipping through the pages.

"What are you reading? The same book about suicide methods again?" I asked, changing the subject.

"A good book is still good, no matter how many times you've read it~ Should I try committing suicide like this?"

He showed me the weirdest picture; a man sat in a large can, legs above his head. The method was supposed to kill him by eventually ripping his body in half. I stared at Dazai.

"Do you want my approval or my opinion?"

"I already know you won't give me your blessings for my suicide~" He grinned "Just tell me what you think~"

"Well… The chances you die are very low… It looks more like a… Torture method to me…"

"Eh? So it's painful…?!" He exclaimed, dramatically "I'm not trying that then…"

"I hope not…"

I took a book too, a mystery novel, and tried to distract myself from his annoying humming. I wanted to solve the crime before the fictional detective, but hearing Dazai sing next to me did not help me focus. After a moment, I put the book aside, and turned towards him. He had not turned a single page.

"Dazai…"

"What is it, Ogawa…~?"

"Let's get changed. We're going out." I said, standing up.

"Eh? But I've already taken a bath…~" He whined.

"Don't question it."

I should have doubted that this day would be strange, and that he would feel even more bothered by his usual torments. While he was putting his shirt on, I called the Fox.

"Do you know what time it is…?" He grumbled.

"Early enough, since you're awake." I smirked "I need you to find me something important… I need them in an hour…"

When I told him what I wanted, he yelled at me, but it was quick to hang up and avoid his scolding.

"So? Where are we going?" My friend asked me.

"You already know the answer…"

A shadow clouded his face, and he simply nodded. It had already been three years since that tragedy, yet it still seemed as present in our mind. Softly, I opened the door for him and called a taxi. It was dark, outside, a moonless night only enlightened by the stars and the lampposts in the streets. In that part of the world, humans still had the luxury to protect themselves against the monsters of the darkness.

The Fox was waiting for us in front of the cemetery, a bouquet of white lilies in his hands. As he gave them to me, he whispered:

"You owe me one."

I only nodded, and asked that we were left alone. Far from the entrance, under a majestic tree, which branches gently flustered with the wind, laid a single gravestone which bore the name of Dazai's late and most precious friend. When I looked at him, despite the lack of light, I saw he was expressionless. And motionless, too. I took his hands into mine, and placed the bouquet into them with a smile.

"This is important for you… Take all the time you need."

"... Thank you… You remembered…"

"In all honesty, I thought you'd slack off to pay him a visit, today… I'm sorry I was wrong…"

"Don't wait for me and just… Go back…"

I pulled the key to his apartment from my pocket.

"You know, I closed the door earlier. And…"

I placed them in his coat.

"I can't go back if you have them."

"Ogawa, I —"

"I'll be just at the entrance."

Surprisingly, the Fox was still there when I went out of the cemetery. I grinned at him.

"So~ What can I do to repay you for your help~?"

"Aren't you tired, Ogawa-san?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, and crossed my arms.

"What's with the sudden politeness? It's unlike you to be so formal…"

"I thought you might take me more seriously like that."

His face was severe. It was the first time I saw him without a childish expression and, suddenly, he did not seem like a teenager anymore. That reminded me we were the same age.

"Alright. Tired of what, Fox? I'll answer you, just… Drop that "-san"... I'm not used to it from you…" I gave up.

"Sure, I didn't plan to call you that endlessly anyway." He shrugged "Just tell me… How long are you going to pretend you're happy?"

"What are you talking about? My life really has changed for the better. I never thought I'd reach twenty-one years old, in the first place and I can even control my ability…" I sighed "Everyone in the Agency is so friendly, and I'll finally get treated for that damn morphine addiction, how can't I be happy…?"

"Well, since humans are all different, we all have various ways of being happy. Ogawa, I'm afraid your own happiness revolves a bit too much around… Him." He pointed at Dazai with his chin.

My friend was joyously chatting with the tombstone, as though his surroundings had disappeared, and as though I did not exist anymore. In his world, there was space only for him and Odasaku… I smiled slightly.

"You look as though you revealed me the purpose of my existence." I chuckled "I already know that, unfortunately… But he is my precious friend, the one I want to be happy…"

"At the cost of a fulfilled life of your own?"

"Nothing will fill the emptiness in my chest, except for his smile, maybe… I'm touched that you are concerned about me, Fox… But I assure you I am fine."

"What's the point of fighting so hard to earn the right to live, if it is to give it all up to a person who doesn't even see how soaked in blood the heart you give him is…?" He angrily shoved his hands in his pockets "Don't you ever tell me I didn't warn you…"

"I promise I won't." I giggled "You remind me of someone, a man I knew… I think you could call him my friend. Behind his rough facade is hidden a very sensitive poet…~ He usually had the right words to put me back on track…"

"Let me guess… You didn't listen to him at all…?"

"Am I so predictable?" I laughed "You're right, though… I didn't listen to him… So, I became addicted to morphine, then entered the Armed Detective Agency to be with Dazai… I don't regret it, nonetheless."

"I see… So you're the type who doesn't care about advice. That's good to know…" He mumbled "Anyway, let's talk about business."

"Mmh. I do owe you a favour. Do tell me what it is." I said, leaning back on a wall.

"In fact, I've been meaning to make that request to you a moment ago, but that's just the opportunity I needed." He told me, pulling a picture out of the pocket of his jacket "I have a friend. We grew up together, then got separated. I lost my parents and… Forget it. He's now a brilliant chemist, and he wants to open a laboratory in Hokkaido for his research. The government already agreed, but the locals aren't too fond of the project. He's already survived three assassination attempts… Could you protect him, please?"

"Being a bodyguard, eh…?" I took a look at the picture "You know I'm not bad at this kind of job. Well, I'll accept your request. I've been meaning to visit Hokkaido, after all…"

"I know. That's where I told you your sister is…" He remembered "Will it be alright for you?"

"I never said I'd meet her… What is your friend's research about?"

"It's complicated, but I think he's working on a formula to create petrol, you know… Instead of importing it."

"That's a very polluting business… I do understand the locals…" I frowned "I don't want to support him…"

"I know right? It's just… It's been more than five years since our ways have drifted apart… When he reached out to me, I couldn't help agreeing despite being powerless… I thought I could count on you." The Fox rubbed the back of his head.

"Of course you can. I'll handle the case for you. You've done so much to help me, I can't refuse a friend's request either." My lips turned upwards.

"I knew working with a detective was the best…" He snickered.

"That's because you work with the best one." I winked "I'll leave as soon as possible, maybe in a week."

"Oh, you're going to start therapy tomorrow?"

"... How do you know…?"

"You told me you would get treated soon, and I guessed you believed you'd feel better after a week, which is wrong, but I can only support you from afar." He shrugged.

"Why don't you work as a detective, too?" I laughed "I know it's going to be hard… But I'll manage, somehow. I have to… I'm this close to getting rid of that disgusting habit of mine…"

"Is that so?"

I nodded, and shivered. Although it was a summer night, the sudden breeze felt cold, and I tightened my tattered coat around me. My last trench had been ruined by my first case for the Agency and, since, I had only been able to afford an old, second-hand one which had already been well-used. Before buying new clothes, I needed to have my own place. These holes were not a bother to me, anyway…

"It's almost two…" The Fox noticed "If you start your treatment today, you may want to sleep, Ogawa… Otherwise, it'll be unbearable for you."

"Are you worried about me? That's so nice~ You're showing me your soft side today~"

"I've been worried about you since the first day we met…!" He suddenly raised his voice "Even though you were wearing a mask, your hands were so thin, and your clothes looked too big for you. And when you spoke… You would frequently pause to take your breath. You regularly came for the Mafia, and I do worry about my customers. If they die, I can't be paid…"

"... Was I really like that…?" I muttered "Whatever… I'm glad to have such a caring friend~"

"... Are you never going to take me seriously…?"

"I do take you seriously. However, as I said, you need not concern yourself with me. I am and will be fine."

"Idiot…"

It was touching that he cared about me to this extent. Five months ago, when I had come to him again to seek his skills as an informer, I had been such a troublesome customer, I had believed he would never want to work with me again. Thanks to Uemura-san, the Fox had dedicated his time to the cases I managed for the Agency, but, more importantly, we had gotten closer, to the point of becoming friends who playfully teased each other. However, I had never predicted that he would be so concerned about me. He had gone out of his way many times to help me out, going as far as finding Ruriko-chan and giving me, without charging me, all the information he had gathered about her life. I had not considered that I could be a person one could ever care about… It did feel nice, and I was ashamed that I had not, indeed, taken his feelings seriously.

We remained quiet, listening to the peaceful night of Yokohama. My eyes closed, and my ears were filled with sounds of all sorts. Above us, the wind danced in the tree leaves, gently accompanied by the distant song of the sea, which gently undulated under the thick veil of darkness covering the sky. Even Dazai had stopped chatting to silently honour his late friend's memory. The lamppost which enlightened the space around us started flickering, tired and old, before suddenly turning off. We moved towards another one, without a word.

I thought time had stopped, suspended by the beautiful concert nature was offering us, but I noticed I was wrong when I raised my eyes and saw the sky had cleared up, slowly taking its usual blue shade. That day would be a sunny one, I thought when my gaze fell onto the clouds coloured in warm orange watercolour by the rising sun. It was already dawn… We had spent the entire night out, and I had not gotten a single minute of sleep, unlike the Fox, who had succumbed to Morpheus as soon as we had moved to another lamppost. He was still standing, arms crossed and faced down. One could think he simply closed his eyes, but his slow and heavy breathing betrayed him. So, the best informer of Yokohama had the special skill to sleep anywhere, at any moment and in any position… It was a valuable one, yet a weakness he would not want his enemies to know of. This was proof that he trusted me… I could always use this information to tease him.

"... Is it… Already morning…?" He mumbled, sleepily.

"It seems so…"

"He's still not done…?" He frowned "For f*ck's sake, he made you wait the entire night and —"

"It's important to him… That's his late friend's death anniversary, after all…"

"... Aren't you his friend too…? And a living one, on top of that…!"

"Fox, it's enough… I'm tired, I can't bear your shouts so early, this day…" I stopped him.

"Right..  I'm sorry." He shoved his hands in his pocket "Well, do as you wish. I have work, today, so I'll head to my place. Thanks for accepting my request, by the way."

"You're my friend, it's my pleasure." I assured him.

He glanced at me, a strange, indescribable feeling reflecting in his eyes, before turning around and walking away. I could understand why he disapproved that I supported Dazai; any sane person would have already gone back to sleep, after all, and I knew no one who would be able to wait as much as I had. Even so, I felt it was my duty to be with him, from afar, so I could be there when he would be tired and broken by this peculiar night. It had always been my role…

I jumped in surprise when I sensed a coat suddenly covering my shoulders, on top of mine.

"I'm sorry, Ogawa… You must have been so cold… And it is the start of your treatment, too… I'm sorry…" Dazai apologised.

His hands did not leave my shoulders, and I pleasantly felt warmer, simply by being close to him. I smiled, gently.

"It's alright. I promised I would wait for you, after all. Besides, I wasn't alone. The Fox kept me company. He left just a few minutes ago." I told him.

"Is that so…? That's good."

"Yes… Are you ready to go, now?"

"Mmh. I'll go back to my place and slack off as usual~ What about you?"

"I guess I'll come with you. Yosano-sensei said she'd be waiting for me in front of the dormitory anyway." I told him.

"I see… It must be ready then~"

"What is…?" I raised an eyebrow.

"That's a secret~" He chuckled "Let's go~ I want to see the face you're going to make~"

"I'm a tad afraid of what I'll see though…"

"I can't say a thing~" He hummed, putting his hands on his hips.

He would usually put them in his pockets… But…

"Dazai…! Your coat…!" I followed behind him.

"You can keep it, I'm not that cold~"

"It's barely six a.m.…! There is no way you aren't cold…!" I protested.

"I'm not taking it back~"

"Dazai…!"

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Catching Up

It's my wonderful friend @minky-for-short‘s birthday so I wrote her a fic! And I'm posting just in case anyone read my fic 'I will love you if I never see you again' and wanted more dad Jupeter and more of their daughter!

Bianca has an announcement for her dads and there's only one way Nureyevs can communicate. And if you’d leave a comment on Ao3, I’d so appreciate it!

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There were many reasons they weren’t a conventional family.

There was their clunky surname that was hard to wrap your mouth around. Steel-Nureyev. Or maybe Nureyev-Steel, they’d never formally decided which way it went. Mostly because they never really had to use it and had never needed to write it down in any official capacity.

There was the fact that a female sewer rabbit lived in their modest Hyperion apartment, turning it into a tiny apartment and the rabbit into, technically, a house rabbit. It was fine, they rarely had guests over that weren’t Rita, Jet or the Aurinkos. Or Mick but he was terrified of Small Fry, as Juno insisted on still calling her.

There was the fact that, for months long stretches at a time, Juno and Nureyev would have no idea where their eldest daughter was. They would hear nothing from her or her wife, Desta, not so much as a message over their comms. Nothing but Juno’s anxious, obsessive tuning in to the police scanners of all the major planets and some from the outer rim to boot. Rita had hacked his comms so he’d be able to pick it up and Nureyev pretended he didn’t know how much he clung to it and that he wasn’t equally as worried, all the time, gnawing away deep down inside himself.

But there was also the fact that when, finally, they’d hear her boots in the hallway or see the coat that used to be Juno’s hanging on the coat rack by the door and hear her singing from her old bedroom, when their Bee Bee finally came home, the cards would always come out.

Juno tried to be a good host, tried to catch their attention to offer drinks but they were already focused. They sat across the dining room table from each other, like they always did, with the same matching smiles and narrowed eyes and playful determination. Nureyev laid the cards out himself, as he always did, so many that they took up a whole table in an array that still didn’t make a lick of sense to Juno, much to his irritation.

“Have they always done this?” Desta asked, her voice soft and quiet as always. Her lips were a bright blue today and she was smiling more than usual, “This game?”

Her eyes were on Bianca, with the same exasperated tenderness Juno was sure she’d see in his own eye, fixed on Nureyev.

“It used to be chess,” Juno hummed as he poured wine, “He taught her to play when she was six, they practised every night until she could beat him. Then he would cheat and she had to still win and tell him after how he cheated. Then they both cheated. And then they moved onto this. Same system, just with a game a million times more complicated.”

Desta looked at the splayed out cards, at the rapid fire way Nureyev dealt and shrugged, accepting the wine Juno held out to her and sipping mildly. Juno wished he could have the same blase attitude to not having a clue how Rangian street poker worked.

“Can’t you guys catch up normally?” he sighed, bringing Nureyev the glass of red wine he didn’t need to ask to know he wanted, “Like with a conversation? I’ve heard some families have those.”

“This is way more fun,” Bianca waved away her own glass and squeezed her mama’s hand instead, “Cos I get to catch up and beat my daddy at something.”

Nureyev’s eyebrow arched, “Confidence. An interesting play, given how our last game went.”

Bee Bee hummed, tilting her head so her earrings rang. Desta had clearly made them, they were exquisitely wrought discs of ceramic and bronze, painted with tiny flowers. She’d been doing a lot of pottery work lately, straying away from her usual canvasses.

“Funny, daddy, I don’t recall how our last game went. I prefer to focus on the game in front of me. First rule of thieving, right?”

Nureyev’s smile curled up at one end and he was clearly suppressing a chuckle, “Let’s start then. You can have the first question.”

Bianca tilted her head in thought, “Hmm...have you read Sephy’s manuscript?”

Nureyev’s eyes widened, “What? Have you? He’s not been letting anyone read it until his editor gets back to him, not even Idun!”

Her eyebrow lifted and her grin became truly smug, “Is that your question, daddy?”

He bristled the way a cornered cat would, “No. I want to know what planet you were just on.”

“Works for me. Let’s play!”

If Juno had thought Nureyev was fast back at the Oasis, now he thought he must grow four extra arms to keep up. He and Bianca were a flurry of effortlessly manicured, pale, spidery hands and laser burned, clever fingered, dark brown hands, all working to outwit the other set in ways that there was no hope of following. Juno gave up quickly, motioning Desta over to the sofa to the side of the table, making polite small talk about her latest gallery opening on Jupiter where the art scene had gone wild at the idea of an anonymous artist with such magnificent, bold pieces. He didn’t know a damn thing about art, especially good art, but the way the kid’s eyes lit up when she talked about her work was good enough for him.

They broke off when the hand ended, Bianca grinning in triumph and Nureyev scowling and gritting his teeth.

“No,” he said, short and clipped, “My own son, my flesh and blood, whom I gave life to will not let me read his manuscript.”

Bianca’s smile softened a little, “He just cares about your opinion. He doesn’t want you to read it until it’s absolutely perfect and even then he’s probably going to still worry you don’t like it.”

Nureyev gave a non committal grunt but it was clear she’d mollified him. Juno would have piped up and told him that he hadn’t been allowed to read it either but Nureyev already knew that. And he knew it didn’t stop either of them being so damn proud of their son, selling his first novel to a publisher at just twenty years old, after a childhood of watching him typing away on his comms, writing his little stories.

“Your turn, daddy,” Bianca smiled sweetly, shamelessly using every weapon she’d had since she was born to wrap the galaxy’s greatest thief around her little finger.

He drew in a breath and set his shoulders. Juno had seen him square up for fights before, he knew that look behind his cat eye glasses. Clearly Bianca had caught him on the back foot, bringing a new level to the game that he hadn’t known she could. But he was drawing himself tight as a bow, his knuckles threatening to burst out of his skin, his teeth showing under his lip.

Once again, Juno wished that they could catch up with their children over dinner maybe, cups of tea and biscuits even, like normal people.

“What planet were you just on?” Nureyev asked again, still stuck on his first question.

Bianca smiles broadly, dark gold eyes wandering around the room, “Did you and mama redecorate?”

“Play,” Nureyev looks insulted by her question, setting to the cards.

Juno just watched this time, he’d learned that a comfortable silence was best with Desta sometimes. He saw a lot of his younger self in the girl his daughter had brought back from one of her first big jobs. That didn’t bode well at all for the poor kid so he was always careful to give her space and just be a quiet presence beside her. It seemed to be working, she shifted closer to him after a minute of nothing but cards hitting the table, sounding like bird wings, and actually rested her head on his shoulder.

Juno smiled and let his eye wander over the table, not trying to make sense of the erratic movements and patterns that seemed to rise and fall apart within seconds, but just watching his husband and their daughter be brilliant at something. He had fun finding the eerie similarities in their expressions and their mannerisms, how she looked so much like him but acted so much like Nureyev.

He was so deep in his own thoughts that the only reason he didn’t miss the reveal was Nureyev’s startled noise of dismay.

“What?” he looked down at their cards like he was looking at a cat with two heads doing a tap dance across the table, “But...but I…”

Bianca tilted her head, humming innocently, “Something wrong, daddy?”

“How did you do that?” he demanded, stunned, “I’ve never used that method with you and I invented it myself, how could you know about it? How could you counter it so fast?”

“This is all very nice but all I care about is if that wallpaper is new,” she actually pretend to stifle a yawn. Juno had to swallow a laugh very quickly or he’d have been sleeping on the couch.

Nureyev trembled, “Yes. Yes, it’s new, we redecorated after your mother’s pet chewed through the plaster.”

“Hey, her new teeth were coming though, okay?” Juno piped up indignantly, “They were hurting.”

Bad move, all of Nureyev’s frustrations flowed at him like a blistering wind via the glare he gave him. Maybe he should start fluffing the couch cushions now. Desta giggled beside him.

“You have something, don’t you?” Nureyev swiveled back to his eldest with realisation chasing away the clouds annoyance, “Something big. That’s why you’re playing like this.”

Bianca gave no reaction but a pretty smile, “All you have to do is ask, daddy. Well, ask and win, I guess.”

“Was I born yesterday, treasure?” Nureyev sniffed, “I know how this game is played. I will ask but only when I am in the correct position, perfectly poised to strike.”

“Cool, daddy,” Bianca seemed more interested in her nails, her posture looking like she was having a lazy brunch with a friend.

Desta murmured softly, close to Juno’s ear, “They do...love each other, right?”

“Hard to tell sometimes, isn’t it?” Juno whispered back after a rough chuckle, “But yeah, they’re devoted to each other. They’re just like this.”

They continued to be ‘like this’ for another half hour, playing round after round, questions fired like shots by Nureyev and tossed out lazily by Bianca.

“Did you pull that job over in Olympus with the melting bank notes and not come visit us?”

“So how’s your yoga class? Does Bitch Jan still go?”

“Why do you call your mother when he’s at work when you know I won’t be there?”

“That necklace is cute, is it new?”

“How the hell did you win that last goddamn round?”

“I saw you having dinner at that place on Third Street on Auntie Rita’s feed, is it any good? I was thinking of taking Desta.”

“What exactly did I do to deserve such a terrible child? No that is not my question, shut up Juno!”

The rounds went on and Nureyev’s blood pressure steadily climbed. He lost again and again to Bianca, with her barely breaking a sweat, having to give up the mundanities of their empty nester life, his attempts at baking and their redecorating and the silly streams they liked to watch.

Juno had never seen this happen before. He’d never say it out loud but Bee Bee had always been the better player, when you looked at it all together, but there had never been a game where Nureyev hadn’t taken more than a few rounds from her and it had never been so easy.

Juno narrowed his eye and studied his daughter, now with her feet up on the table and rocking her chair back on two legs, clearly enjoying this. But equally as clearly up to something. Nureyev had it dead to rights, there was something she held, something that had to be big with all the effort she was putting in to make him unwrap it.

Before he could help it, Juno was adding it up. And, in less than a moment, in less time than it took for Bianca to tear her winning hand into shreds and playfully blow them in Nureyev’s direction, he had it.

“Holy shit!” he yelped, slapping a hand over his mouth a second too late.

Bianca shot him a sparkling grin and a look in her eyes like she knew he’d get it eventually. She put her finger to her red painted lips.

“What?” Nureyev looked like he didn’t know whether to flip the table or cry now, eyes darting between the two of them, “Oh come on! Now he knows?”

“He is a detective,” Bee Bee pointed out, “And you are supposed to be good at this game, daddy. You are getting old, huh?”

Nureyev grit his teeth, finger trembling in the air, a million cutting responses crowding on his tongue. But then he dropped his hand to the table and inhaled sharply, letting it come out again in a long, low hiss.

“You know what? Let’s do this. My question...what are you keeping from me, Bianca Nureyev?”

Bee Bee only smiled, almost in acceptance, and pondered a moment, “Um...did you like that podcast I sent you?”

The creases on Nureyev’s brow deepend, “But...but you know that? I told you that? Weeks ago?”

Bee Bee looked untroubled, “Pass or play, daddy?”

“Play,” Nureyev eventually said, after a long moment of him clearly wracking his brain for what new machination their daughter had just put into motion, deciding to let it run.

The difference was palpable, even from where Desta and Juno sat. Before she’d been snake-like in how quick and deadly her movements were, now she was deferential, walking right into his snares without a care, doing something no self respecting Nureyev or Steel had ever done. She was playing fair. All while smiling like she’d already won.

It was a quick slaughter. No one was surprised when they turned their cards over and Nureyev held the winning hand. No one but Nureyev himself.

“I...I don’t understand…” he muttered to himself, as his hands moved automatically to tear his cards, “How did you...after everything…”

“Would you like your answer?” Bianca swung her legs down, leaning close, now intent and eager.

Nureyev almost looked terrified, like he was waiting for a trap to spring around his neck but he couldn’t see how yet, “Yes...yes, fine. What’s this big secret?”

Bianca beamed, like she’d been waiting for this since she walked through the door, “You’re going to be a grandpa.”

Nureyev didn’t seem to register it at first, his face still set in puzzlement. Then his eyes went very, very wide and he sat bolt upright, jaw practically hitting his chest.

Bianca laughed, already standing to go and hug him as tight as she could, only just managing to get out her apologies, her assurances that it was just too hard to resist teasing him, through her giggles. If the way Nureyev clasped her close and buried his face in her cloud of hair, already crying, she was forgiven.

Juno gave himself a moment before he jumped up and pounced on them, a moment to watch them and just how much they loved each other.

A moment to think how, right now, he was so glad they weren’t a conventional family.