#but cold air doesnt get the job done

[gwyneirastorm]

The logic is sound.

I name my sewing machines because any large, expensive tool that can get tempermental registers as a Creature in my brain. Sewing machines? Creatures. Spinning wheels? Creatures. Cars? Creatures. My EEW Nano 2, however, is just a gadget and therefore has no name.

[its-avalon-08]

Amoreeee!

i love ur works and i have a very specific reuqest in mind. this is too detailed so please feel free to ditch a few details because im aware its too much. this is a mv1 x senna!daughter one.

max is hard racing some driver and he gets angry and flustered and he crashes because he act irresponsibly. y/n's heart stops because the way the car rotated and hit the barrier refletced her late father's passing.

her breath stops, max is ok but gp IS ANGRY at him because that could have been easily avoided. max is not hurt at all.

he is still angry when he comes back into the motor home. and then y/n gives him a cold shoulder and doesnt speak to him.

this makes max angrier leading to a passive aggressive arguement. max says something which leads y/n to say "fine then, fuck off and die see if i care" max is shcoked and so is everyonbe else in the motorhome

when she rushes out in tears she bumps into carlos/charles/lando and he comforts her and she says "i never shouldve said that"

they make up, hapoy ending make it extra emotional.

LOVE UR WORKS!

i have to confess, i love this one the most out of everything i've ever written. its extra extra long, and the anon messaged me and asked me to add a few more things, so i have done the same! anon ily ! (edit - i messed up the translation! its been fixed now!!) enjoy reading <3

coração valente (mv1) (brave heart)

find the headcannon here!

The roar of the engine was a dull thrum in Y/N's ears as she watched the battle unfold on the screen. Max was locked in a fierce fight for position with Esteban Ocon. Every aggressive lunge, every desperate attempt to overtake sent a tremor of unease through her. It was too reminiscent, too close to the edge.

Then, disaster struck. Ocon made a late move, and Max, fueled by frustration and a competitive fire, reacted impulsively. He swerved to block him, the car losing traction as it took the corner too tightly. The world slowed down as Y/N watched in horror. The Red Bull spun, a sickening ballet of red and blue against the asphalt, before slamming into the barrier with a sickening crunch.

Her breath hitched, a choked sob escaping her lips. The way the car crumpled, the dust cloud mirroring the crash that stole her father… the memory flooded back, vivid and terrifying. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drum solo threatening to burst through her chest.

Thankfully, the medical team rushed to the scene, and the relief was almost a physical blow. Max emerged from the wreckage, shaken but unharmed. But the reprimand from Horner was swift and brutal. "Unnecessary risk, Verstappen! You could have avoided that entirely!"

By the time Max stormed back into the motorhome, his anger was a palpable presence. He tossed his helmet onto the couch, the thud echoing in the tense silence. Y/N sat by the window, her back to him, a cold, hard wall where warmth and concern usually resided.

"Great job out there," Max spat, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Another brilliant strategy by Horner, putting all the pressure on me."

Y/N remained silent. Her silence was a punishment, far worse than any raised voice. Max, already on edge, bristled.

"You gonna say something, genius?" he snapped. "Or are you just gonna sit there like a statue?" Y/N turned a deaf ear to that.

The air in the motorhome felt thick enough to chew on. Y/N sat at the table, meticulously organizing spare race parts, a pointed silence radiating from her. Max hovered by the coffee machine, his usual swagger dampened by a heavy frown.

Christian Horner, ever the mediator, attempted to lighten the mood. "So, Max," he boomed, "what are we learning from this little spin?"

Max, bristling at the reminder, mumbled a vague response about tire strategy. Y/N, without looking up, chimed in, "Perhaps a lesson in spatial awareness wouldn't go amiss."

The air crackled. Max whipped his head towards her, his jaw clenched. "Oh, and who's the expert on spatial awareness, Miss Never-Been-On-The-Track?"

Y/N slammed a wrench down a little too hard, the metallic clang echoing in the tense silence. "There's a difference between calculated risk and reckless driving," she retorted, her voice laced with ice.

Max scoffed. "Spoken like someone who's never felt the pressure of a championship on their shoulders."

Y/N's eyes narrowed. "Pressure doesn't excuse stupidity, Max," she said, her voice clipped.

Horner cleared his throat, his booming voice a desperate attempt to break the ice. "Look, let's all take a moment to cool down. We can dissect the crash later. Right now, Max needs a clear head for the next race."

With that, Horner steered Max towards a debriefing session, leaving Y/N alone in the charged atmosphere. She picked up a stray bolt, turning it over in her hand, her knuckles white with repressed anger. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the workshop around her.

Just then, Charles walked in, his perceptive eyes catching the glint of tears on her cheeks. "Rough day?" he asked softly.

Y/N choked back a sob. "It's just… I don't know if I can watch him race anymore," she confessed, her voice thick with emotion.

Charles pulled up a chair beside her, his presence a silent comfort. "You know Max," he said gently. "He makes mistakes, but he learns from them."

Y/N shook her head. "This wasn't just a mistake, Charles. It was reckless. And it brought back…" she trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Charles squeezed her shoulder in understanding. "The fear," he finished for her. "It's always there, isn't it?"

Y/N nodded, a tear escaping and tracing a path down her cheek. "I can't lose him too," she whispered, her voice cracking.

Charles offered a sad smile. "You won't," he assured her. "Max is stubborn, but he cares about you. He'll learn from this."

His words offered a glimmer of hope. Y/N knew Charles was right. But the fear, the raw terror that had gripped her during the crash, still lingered.

Max, a whirlwind of frustration earlier, had retreated into a sullen silence. Y/N, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy, refused to acknowledge him directly. The tension crackled between them, a storm waiting to erupt.

Daniel Ricciardo, ever the peacemaker, tried to lighten the mood. "So, Max," he said, a touch too cheerfully, "what are we having for dinner? Surely Y/N has whipped up some magic in the kitchen?"

Y/N's lips twitched, but she remained focused on her phone, pretending not to hear. Max, still fuming, mumbled a curt, "I don't care."

The forced joviality died a quick death. Charles, sensing the undercurrents, offered, "Actually, I wouldn't mind ordering some takeout. How about some Indian?"

Y/N finally looked up, her voice clipped. "No, thank you, Charles. I'm not particularly hungry."

Max scoffed. "Suit yourself. More for the rest of us, then."

The passive-aggressive jabs continued throughout the evening, each veiled comment a fresh barb. Y/N praised Charles's recent qualifying performance, a clear dig at Max's reckless driving. Max, in turn, bragged about a new training program he was starting, a not-so-subtle jab at Y/N's perceived lack of understanding.

"Honestly that race was mine, Ocon fucked it up for everyone," Max proclaimed.

"Maybe," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "if you hadn't been so busy playing daredevil, you wouldn't have thrown away the race."

The words hung heavy in the air. Max felt a flicker of something cold and sharp twist in his gut. "Playing daredevil?" he scoffed. "I was out there fighting for the win!"

"At what cost?" Y/N's voice cracked, the dam of her emotions threatening to burst. "Do you even understand the fear you put me through?"

Max, for the first time, saw a glimpse of the terror that mirrored his own reckless driving. He opened his mouth to apologize, but the words wouldn't come.

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken emotions. Then, in a moment of horrifying clarity, Max blurted out, "Look, if you can't handle the pressure, maybe you should just—"

The sentence died on his lips as he saw the blood drain from Y/N's face. She stared at him, her eyes filled with a hurt so profound it took his breath away.

"Fine then," she said, her voice a choked whisper. "fuck off and die. see if i care."

The words echoed in the stunned silence. Everyone in the motorhome froze, their eyes wide with shock. Even Max, fueled by anger, felt a cold dread settle in his stomach.

Y/N didn't wait for a response. Tears streaming down her face, she bolted out of the motorhome, the slam of the door a punctuation mark to the shattered silence.

Max stared after her, a tapestry of emotions swirling within him – anger, regret, a terror that mirrored her own. He lunged after her, but Charles, who had witnessed the exchange, caught him by the arm.

"Let her go," Charles said gently, his voice laced with concern. "She needs some space."

Max sank back onto the couch, his head in his hands. "What did I do?" he rasped, the anger replaced by a crushing weight of remorse.

The atmosphere was suffocating. Everyone, even the usually jovial mechanics, seemed to walk on eggshells around the warring couple. Tears streamed down Y/N's face as she walked, the weight of the fight, the fear, and the unspoken hurt threatening to overwhelm her. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be.

The cool night air did little to soothe the burning in Y/N's eyes. She wandered away from the motorhome complex, her legs numb and directionless. The roar of the track faded behind her, replaced by the chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves. Tears streamed down her face, carving clean tracks through the grime of the day.

Then, she saw it. Half-hidden behind a cluster of trees, a towering mural emerged from the darkness. It was a familiar image – her father, mid-corner, a determined glint in his eyes, the car a blur of yellow and green. A wave of emotions washed over her – grief, pride, and now, a searing anger.

Sinking down onto a nearby bench, Y/N found herself talking to the painted image. "Why didn't you tell me, Dad?" she choked out, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Why didn't you tell me how terrifying it would be to watch someone you love race?"

"Doesn't he understand, Dad? Doesn't he see the risk he takes? It's like he doesn't care! Doesn't care about the fear he puts me through, the terror that I relive every single time I see a car spin out of control!"

She slammed her fist against the concrete wall, a raw scream escaping her lips. The sound echoed in the quiet night, a testament to the storm raging within her. Tears streamed down her face, hot and angry.

"And then," she continued, her voice trembling, "he has the audacity to get mad at me? To act like I'm the one overreacting? Doesn't he see what his actions do? Doesn't he see what he almost took away from me today?"

Silence, except for the rustle of leaves in the night breeze. But in her mind, she could almost hear his voice, warm and reassuring. "coração valente (brave heart)," it seemed to say, the nickname he always used for her. "Fear is a part of it, but it doesn't have to control you."

Y/N wiped her eyes, a flicker of understanding replacing the anger. Her father hadn't raced because it was easy. He raced because of the passion, the thrill, the dance with danger. He wouldn't have wanted her to live in fear, but to find her own strength, her own way to navigate the world he left behind.

The sting in his eyes wasn't just from the acrid smoke billowing from a nearby barbecue. Max's chest ached with a dull ache that had nothing to do with the crash. Y/N's words, "fine then, fuck off and die. See if I care," echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of his monumental screw-up.

He couldn't just sit there, stewing in his self-pity. He needed to find her, needed to apologize and explain the terrifying realization that had dawned on him during their tense silence.

Following a hunch, he made his way to the secluded corner where the mural of Ayrton Senna stood. In the dim glow of a single overhead light, he saw Y/N curled up with her back against the wall, her shoulders trembling with silent sobs. A red mark marred her hand where it had connected with the concrete.

His heart lurched. He knelt down beside her, his voice barely a whisper. "Y/N?"

She flinched at the sound, whipping her tear-streaked face towards him. Her eyes, red and puffy, held a storm of emotions – hurt, anger, and something akin to pleading.

Max swallowed the lump in his throat. "I… I shouldn't have said what I said," he began, his voice thick with remorse. "My anger… it clouded everything. I didn't…" He broke off, his own voice cracking.

Tears spilled down Y/N's cheeks. "And I..." she started, her voice trembling. "I never should have said what I did. It was awful, unforgivable of me." Her voice choked on a sob. "I don't… I don't want to lose you, Max. Not like that."

With a choked cry, she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. Max held her tight, the dam breaking inside him. He pressed kisses to her hair, each one a silent apology, a promise.

"I get it now, Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I understand the fear. I see it reflected in your eyes every time I step onto the track. And I promise, I'll never do anything like that again. Not if it means putting you through that kind of pain."

They clung to each other, a tangle of limbs and broken sobs. The night air vibrated with the raw emotions they were finally releasing. Slowly, the sobs subsided into sniffles, leaving behind a fragile calm.

Max pulled back, wiping away a stray tear from Y/N's cheek with his thumb. "Let's go back," he said gently, his voice hoarse. "We can talk properly, sort things out."

Y/N nodded, her eyes searching his. "Together," she added, a shaky smile playing on her lips.

Max grinned back, the familiar spark of mischief returning to his eyes. "Always," he promised. "Together, no matter what the track throws at us."

As they walked back hand-in-hand, the mural of Ayrton Senna seemed to watch over them, a silent guardian of their love, a love forged in fire, tested by fear, and ultimately strengthened by understanding and forgiveness. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but with each other, they knew they could face anything.

[eleganthologramcolor]

Check this out, a teaser to a bigger thing I'm working on...

What about a reader who's equally as mean as a situationship!Simon?

Toxic!Reader x Toxic!Simon

Reader gives the attitude they're given. Doesn't let themselves get hurt more than the other one. An eye for an eye, maybe more if you piss them off. Warnings: implied smut, implied female anatomy, mock baby trapping as an unserious breeding kink practice, toxic behavior, reader's inner monolog is going to be MEAN in the main series, unprotected sex + multiple partners, shaming of Simon's abilities.

You'd learned very early on that he planned to use you. You're warm, you're tight, you get the job done. No matter, you didn't expect things to go far with a military dude who insists on fucking the first night anyway. If he's having fun, you should get what you want out of it, too.

He's too rough, too mean, too degrading one night, ruining your orgasm at least 3 times before giving you a half hearted one at the end because, if he's being honest, he got bored, alright? The denial doesn't make you want more, doesnt make you crave his touch, no, not at all. You let him into your home, into your bed for a night and he cant even finish you off properly for the sake of his entertainment? The lingering heat in your gut boiling over into simmering bitterness. That's fine, you tell him, you've "got toys that'll get the job done faster and better than he does." The nonchalance in your tone when you say it makes him flinch. A punch right to the gut of his ego as he's getting dressed, looking over his shoulder at you with an unreadable expression. You don't bother to look at him, playing on your phone for a few minutes before you wave a hand, "Uh, shoo? I want you out of here."

The next time you're on top, you get payback. He'd let you take control so willingly, with that satisfied, shit eating grin when you'd asked so sweetly. God, all you had to do was bat your eyes and soften your voice, what a dumbass. You put on a show, tipping your head back to make softer, sweeter sounds, taking just what you need. And only what you need. He doesn't catch on, enraptured by your performance until suddenly you're clamping down, a little too early for him, so yes, it feels good, but it doesn't quite get him there. He grabs your hips, moving to plant his heels on the bed, when you put a hand on his chest and start getting up.

"I'm done."

"Wot?"

It comes out sharp, he's used to all his other little friends letting him get what he wants, all compliant and sweet and innocently hoping this makes them his favorite.

"I said I'm done. Get out. I got work in the morning."

You stand up so abruptly, leaving him with an aching hard on that twitches painfully as it falls against his stomach, wet and exposed to cold air. Pretty as the sight may be, he was useless with it. Girthy, long and curved, should be perfect for reaching all of the spots your fingers can't, but as you'd found, the Itty bitty vibe that fits in the palm of your hand can give you more than a temporary warmth that does so little to quell the anticipation and heat the rest of him seems to promise. You remember that, and tell him over text next time he tries to come over late.

> the door unlocked?

> no, simon. Its midnight. Already took care of myself.

> you've got someone over already?

> [attached is a photo of a powerful vibrator. It's a little too intense for your tastes, but for the sake of bullying him, you show him something he can't compete with.]

It brings a wicked smile to your lips when you hear his bike outside rev up again, imagining him huff in annoyance, stomping away from your front door when he had been expecting you to let him in. You used to wish you were his favorite, that you were his first choice, that he dreamt of you when he was away. But now you hoped you were the last resort, that all of his other little friends had already said no.

Oh, and his other toys....

You'd found out pretty much instantly. Wicked thing you are pretending not to notice the last bit of purple lipstick under his ear, the pink glittery ring that stains the base of his cock, there before you, the red smudging the neck of his shirt. How many different girls, you wonder, or boys, when you see the particularly mean bruise of a bite left on his inner thigh, dumbass thinks leaving the lights off means you can't see shit. The room may be dim, but you aren't fucking blind. You don't let him know, though, you're privy to having your own fun, too.

Makes you seethe the next time he's playing possessive, in your ear as about how you're his, no one else can make you feel as good, no one else can get this deep, can they, 'lovie?' Makes a big show of pulling the condom off, the sick bastard, emptying into you and grunting about this and that, you having his baby and being stuck with him. Being stuck with his ugly attitude? You think the fuck not.

You're on the pill, but you'll make a big show, too, when he leaves, you call up that pretty guy he'd been talking to. One of his coworkers, you're sure. He's a tad bit sweeter. More feral, more hungry to see you writhing beneath him, the sight being enough to get him off. The next morning you post to your Instagram story, a picture of your hand holding his with the breakfast he got you. A warm bag of takeout and an after morning pill, your lipstick on the back of a new hand. Caption it with something silly and cheesy,

"My prince charming got me some breakfast 😌"

And when that blank account views your story, you know you've got him. Bastard thinks he's slick, you won't notice if he doesn't follow or like any of your posts, yea? Fuckin' dumbass. Walking right into your trap. You stifle a shit eating grin when you're back home and getting a barrage of texts from his number. You're tempted to not reply at all, when a meaner thought tempts you. Without reading his messages, you send one of your own,

> hey simon, kinda busy today. Don't come over later, there won't be room in the driveway.

[dateamonster]

youre doomscrolling through twitter to try and distract yourself from your empty stomach and empty wallet when you come across some inspiration porn about a delivery driver who collapsed on a customers front porch. the homeowner turned out to be an emt and after seeing her fall with the help of his doorbell-mounted security camera he was able to perform the necessary first aid and rush her to the hospital, and even started a fund to pay for her medical bills after the footage went viral. in the end she not only raised enough money to pay her bills but enough to quit her delivery job for good.

broke and desperate, a dangerous idea begins to take root in your brain. you are not currently a delivery driver, but youve dabbled, and you do have some experience taking bad falls, as well as punches, kicks, and the occasional elbow to the sternum. you have tried worse things for less money.

you order a pizza and cram yourself into a passable looking red polo tee and khakis. googling "rich doctors near me" doesnt exactly yield the results you were looking for, but it gives you enough of a jumping off point, and in only a few clicks you have an address. the multiple conspicuous security cameras mounted around the property look promising. never mind that the couple that lives here (two doctors! how lucky can you get.) didnt actually order the pizza; you can cross that bridge when you come to it. you approach the front steps, making sure to be well in view of at least one of the cameras at all times, stagger, and then take a dive, smashing face-first into one of those decorative fake rocks uppermiddleclassers love for some reason. you try to embody an air of pitiability as you go down.

you lie there a moment, face down in a strangers rock garden, tasting your own blood as it drips lazily from your nose. after some thirty seconds have passed it occurs to you that you maybe should have done something to check that the couple are actually home first. still you dont get up just yet, and a moment later you are rewarded.

you hear multiple sets of footsteps shuffle onto the porch, stopping short as their owners catch sight of your limp body. you plan to feign unconsciousness at least until they turn you over, so they can see your face, see the very real blood and bruising. you wouldnt want them to think you were faking or anything. after what feels like far too long a pause, a soft, feminine voice says,

"theyre still breathing."

"lucky," says the man, his voice something breathless and thick with gravel.

"i'll take the legs, you take the arms."

and then you are being lifted, carried with no small effort up the steps and into the house. they must be bringing you somewhere more comfortable to treat your injuries. you crack open one eye but all you manage to see from your unfortunate position is a few glimpses of the immaculately clean hardwood, the carpet, the marble tile. your prone body swings like a hammock between them, and soon all their jostling and this blurry upside-down view combined with the iron taste lingering on your tongue starts to make you feel vaguely sick until you have to shut your eyes again.

at last you are deposited on a cold, hard surface, the chill of it seeping through your bloody polo and up your spine. youre no longer lying limp and motionless because youre still hoping to pull off this grift; any half-baked hopes have been chased out by a creeping sense of dread, and you know somewhere in your gut that the moment you open your eyes you will have to face that dread and name it.

a mechanical murmur followed by a harsh clank and the sensation of icy metal closing around your wrists and ankles wrenches the privilege of hesitation from you. you gasp and your eyes fly open. the starburst of harsh white light that greets them reminds you distantly of a childhood trip to the dentist.

"good morning, sunshine," that syrupy voice from earlier chirps at you. squinting through the brightness, you make out two figures of similar stature dressed in vomit green medical scrubs that appear to have been hastily pulled over their ordinary clothes. the man is washing his hands in a small sink somewhere off past your feet. the woman is securing a paper mask, though even with her mouth covered, you can still see the smile pushing up her high sculpted cheekbones to the point where she seems barely able to keep her eyes open.

her skin is like a smooth putty, not a wrinkle or pore or freckle in sight, as if there were a layer of pink latex pulled taut over her real face.

"you came just in time," the man, her husband, calls over his shoulder as he shakes his hands dry and reaches for a box of gloves. "we didnt know where we were going to find another subject, and then, out of nowhere, there you were." he turns and steps into the light, and the face that stares down at you is a lidless mass of pulsing purple-red veins, hairless, damp with sweat already (you hope its sweat). a narrow arrow nose with nostrils too thin to take in breath sits above a rosy sphincter of a mouth, before that too is covered by a mask.

if you manage to scream, you cant hear it over the relentless whine of whatever machine sits just outside of your periphery, just out of reach no matter how you twist and strain at the manacles holding you in place, and the ringing in your own ears.

"youre just what the doctor ordered."

[melkyt]

Mmm Law as the sickly rich scholar who moves to the country side as an attempt to get that good air to treat his tuberculosis in peak 18th century romance vibes

Luffy as a day laborer who does odd jobs for the people of the village along with his brothers.

Need something done, call the ASL bro's.

Is what Law hears as soon as he steps into the sea-side village. He has no intention of asking anyone for help, anytime he goes out wearing a dark long coat, a mask and gloves.

Law quickly becoming the gossip of the town, this 20 some year old rich *bachelor* who is quite attractive though a little weird

Rumours spiral about him doing creepy experiments that some get to scared to go there.

He doesnt mind as people leave him the fuck alone, but also its starts getting annoying as he tries to hire staff to do basic things like clean the estate and gardening, plus cooking. Law knows well emough he is sick and cant do any labor without being out of breath within the first five minutes.

He avoided getting involved with the brothers for the modt part. They dont seem to be anything but children messing around. Law already having gotten into a fight with Ace for one reason or another.

He still calls them and its Luffy who shows up ofc. Excited and Ready to work!

Law tells Luffy to leave him alone and just follow the list each day. Luffy says okay, being used to most rich folk that come here act like that.

Doesn't mean he won't do any snooping on who Law is (they probably have a bet going on what is Law's deal)

Law knows he is snopping but just rolls his eyes all dramatic. As long as he does his job Law doesn't care.

Luffy somehow finding out that Law is sick (sees him collapse and carries him to bed for optimal drama)

Find out that Law is out there to relax and breathe fresh air. Law doing neither of those so Luffy decides its now his job to make sure Law does those things

Things like picnics in his favorite spot, walking along the beach, hiking to the mountain where Law gets tired and Luffy has to give him a piggyback ride. Law blushing as he hides his face. He has never been carried by anyone like that and it feels nice.

Them getting stuck in the rain and having to spend time in a hunters cabin.

Law having to strip out of his clothes as Luffy awkwardly turns around, not doing a good job at resisting the urge to look, its his turn to blush. Law's clothes getting neatly hung over the chair by the crackling fire.

Law coming up behind Luffy wrapped in a blanket, saying he should change to before he gets sick. Luffy saying he never gets sick and that he will be fine. Law insisting, that his body needs body heat but Luffy is wet.

Luffy not hesitating to strip after that. The blush dropping away now that they are both naked. Law gets flustered and throws another blanket over him and they end up cuddling for warmth all night

Luffy does end up getting sick after it, and Law is worried that it's TB and that he should have been more careful with it

Luffy whines while sick, getting xrta needy, and Law doesnt let anybody near until he finds out it is just a cold, and then Ace after insisting to see his brother says they are both immune for the most part, they wouldnt be taking odd jobs in a village where rich folk with TB go otherwise

There are less risky jobs out there. This calms Law down but he still insists on treating Luffy, making him soup and being by his side. Ace recognizes the look in the man's eyes, and lets it be.

Law being the one to initiate something more when Luffy gets better, asking him on a date where they first had a picnic.

They kiss and everything is okay even if Law still has to deal with his illness, just spending time with Luffy makes him feel better.

[go-against-fate]

tged oc info dump because ive got fuck all to do

beloww

Frédéric-Ange Robillard

He's a painter who came from a noble family of Seers. The future is revealed to him through his paintings. As if his hands has a mind of its own, it illustrates the reality of what's to come. He doesn't have visions of it and he never knows if the future that's revealed to him would be good or bad. He just knows that his paintings has never been proved to be false

In TKOBAI he was executed via decapitation for not obeying Alicia's order to use his Seer ability to predict the actions of her enemies. His blood would paint the ground red. And it would be his final art piece.

In TGED, a lot his paintings involved a certain brown hair civil engineer. He gets a bit tired of being shown the same guy over and over but hes glad to know that this man is trying his hardest to bring peace to the world. He eventually retired and lived a quiet life with his family

Kalei

Hailing from a small village in Sortino Barony, she's a self taught... mage? She wouldn't exactly call herself one. But either way, she can manipulate the mana around her. She always had a fascination of its correlation with life. Too bad that same fascination is also what lead her to lose her home village.

One day she was just attending the village gathering to welcome the autumn season. Then she felt a sudden surge of power roaming inside her, gradually increasing in volume. Her small body couldnt handle this huge abrupt supply of mana inside her and she could feel herself coughing until her lungs hurt, until her throat burns, until red liquid poured out. She could hear muffled screams before she blacked out. Something happened in between that and she couldnt remember. All she knows is that when she opened her eyes, everyone (but her) in the village lay lifeless and cold; her parents not excluded.

She spent the next years trying to survive by herself. It's just a good thing she had plenty of knowledge and crafty hands to aid her

In TKOBAI she would spend the rest of her remaining years alone in the forest, isolated from any human interaction. The feeling of impending doom lingers in the air. Her forest companions whisper of death and despair outside the woods, yet she's not concerned anymore. She only wonders when the sunlight would finally peek through the dark clouds. After all, her plants need sunlight to grow

In TGED she wandered north and eventually arrived to the Frontera Estate. She was given a warm welcome by the people that she met and they even gave her a place to live, food to eat, and.. a job. She doesnt complain much about it though, she's glad that her ability to help plants grow is more useful than ever now

_

I created Kalei before Fred, but her lore is still unfinished compared to Fred whose story I felt is already pretty solid. The one i kinda struggle to figure out with is how exactly did she absorbed the life out of the people in her village ತ⁠_⁠ತ

I was thinking maybe.. she picked up like an ancient relic when she was playing in the forest near her village thinking it was another pretty rock for her collection. And the celebration triggered the relic to activate. Basically a pebble sized life absorption relic used in ancient times during a war or somthn

Im not rocking (🥁) with her outfit now tho:/ i want to redesign it

But anyway, random facts about Kalei:

Shes that weird kid who would torture bugs by slurping their mana out of them, watch them writhe, and when theyre in the brink of passing away, she would return their mana. Shes done this to plants too. It's rather cruel but shes literally just a morbidly curious child (⁠・⁠–⁠・⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ Guess she had a fascination with how abrupt a being's life could end (funny how that is considering her backstory lol) She has done the opposite of if this too tho! Sometimes, she would give them (specifically plants) a piece of her mana and watch as they grow a teensy bit faster than before

She likes collecting rocks that she thinks looks cool. There's a corner in her room dedicated to them

She has a cane because she has a limp in her right leg. It developed after The Incident™ she tripped and sprained her ankle. Never bothered to treat it because she thought that it'll just go away on its own. It never did tho. Instead, it got worse. It's to the point that she couldnt bare to put pressure on it. In TKOBAI she straight up just amputated her leg and crafted a handmade prosthetic. However, in TGED, she did get it treated but the damage has already been done

She had to fight a squirrel for acorns once. It was not a fun memory. And not only that, she had to fight with a lot of forest critters for food. Ate a lot of dubiously edible food. I think her taste buds are dead at this point. In general tho, she was dubbed a menace to the forest creatures and they made sure to stay away from her path

[hermesserpent-stuff]

Right, so this is shaping into another au of au story. woof. but also, i love tomby and Montana and peter so this is great. the only thing that would be better is if quentin were tossed in. but I'm holding by for my own sake. lol.

building off of the post Devil Doesnt Bargain. ]

tag: Cracking Windows au

Peter ended up passing out not too long after Tombstone started patching Montana up. The businessman moves both into the spare bedroom he has, along with a lot of medical supplies. It would probably distress Peter to wake up with his uncle and that would be counter to what he currently wants. He notes that Peter's tooth has stopped dripping, but puts ice on Peter's face anyways. He gently sets both down and goes to grab food and cancel all his upcoming appointments and clear his schedule. Rain still taps on the window. He takes a moment to stand in the kitchen.

Anger coils through his frame. How long had Montana known Spider-Man was a child? How long had he known it was Peter? Why would Montana allow Peter to keep going out, so reckless and defiant against the odds. Tombstone has to be careful not to crack or break anything with his hands. Did Montana play a role in Peter saying no to his deal or did the child ever mention that to him?

As a subordinate, Montana had always been reliable. Never asking too many questions, unless they were pertinent to getting the job down correctly. The Brice family was well known in the underground and the thought of having one of them in his employ had appealed to Tombstone even early on. And the man had done very good work. But the line in the sand seemed to be around Peter. Montana had not even given the slightest hint that he had any ties to the hero.

How many people knew about this? Surely the other Enforcers. But did it go further? Beck? Mason? Dozens of questions swirl as he drops off food in the room and checks it for escapes.

 The windows are more durable than those in his office and not even tossing furniture would break them. The door is heavier and more solidly built than standard. That is true for most things in his apartment to prevent damage when he is weary and his control slips. But he makes sure to remove any potential weapons from the two. Peter is fairly easy with just the devices from his wrists that appear to be built to shoot webs. Montana is a little harder. The man has quite a few hidden weapons beyond the suit. Tombstone stores them elsewhere in his home and locks the spare room from the outside.

--

Peter wakes up in a place that overwhelms him with the smell of not home. Okay. Not the best explanation. It smells like cold, rain, metal, and faintly of mint around the edges. And not of earth like Montana’s or of May’s faintly sweet perfume. He shivers and cracks open his eyes. He immediately feels the urge to get up in the air. He often felt that way in Montana's home and had a hammock to do so in. But this is a foreign bedroom. He is suddenly hit with memories and panics. Where is Montana? 

Right beside him, as it turns out. He sighs in relief and reaches out a hand to touch Montana. The man is breathing steadily. But still injured. Escape is not an option yet. The itch to get up in the air presses harder at him, but he hates the idea of leaving his uncle down here. He would just have to make a big web. Though, a quick glance at his wrists reveals no web-shooters. Hmm. This would be a lot more natural webbing than normal. But he wants to be up. He slips out and crawls up to a corner and starts spinning and securing. He drags up pillows and blankets to weave in and finds it to be a very calming activity. He then hauls Montana up and sighs in relief as the itch to get up high fades. He curls beside Montana, cold. The room is so cold. He tugs on the blankets and presses against his uncle and slips off to sleep, feeling a bit secure. His wrists ache just a little, but he can ignore it.

-- 

Tombstone is concerned when he reenters the room to find the bed empty of both of the previous occupants. He can admit to his heartbeat spiking slightly as he looks around the room. But then he spots the large web in the upper corner of a wall. Peter peaks out over the edge of the web-nest and blinks slowly at him. Tombstone sits down on the bed and looks up at the child. He can vaguely see Montana up there too. How best to get Peter to speak? The child seemed rather dedicated to his uncle. Enough to drag him up into a protective web.

“Is Montana alright?”

Peter blinks and shifts a little, fingers pressing against some of the web strands.

“He… He hasn't woken up. But he’s breathing fine and his heart’s good.”

Peter sounds worried. 

“Any injuries that I missed? I have more medical supplies here.”

Tombstone wants to keep Peter talking. Peter glances back at Montana and then back at Tombstone with a slightly confused look. 

“He’s… No.”

“Montana mentioned something about a machine made by Ock?”

There is a flash of rage in Peter’s eyes. 

“Yeah. It was bad.”

The kid takes a breath and then resettles in the web and watches Tombstone. Time for another topic.

“Is there anything I can bring you for your… web?”

Peter hesitates, shivers a little, and asks in a very small voice.

“Blankets? It’s cold.”

Peter sounds unsure of his own request. Tombstone is happy to provide something so easy. 

“I can do that. Would you like me to move the bookshelf to be under it?”

Tombstone worries about the structural integrity. Peter looks at him with confusion and a little bit of concern. There are still the edges of fear but far less than when Peter was last awake. 

“I… I…”

“Just in case the blankets add too much weight.”

“Oh, okay.”

Peter sounds very unsure, fingers twisting and pressing at the web strands to twist them into each other. They are quick little movements that display nerves that tremor in Peter’s voice. Tombstone nods and quickly sets about moving the mostly empty shelf. He can feel Peter’s eyes watching him closely, so he makes sure not to make any movements towards the web aside from moving the shelf. He does not want the kid to think that he is trying to grab him.

[seldomscilence16]

Whumptober day 10:

"Can't you see that you're lost without me?" 

Broken phone | stranded | "You said you'd never leave." 

Fandom: My Hero Academia (AU)

Prompts used: All

 Went back and forth with what I wanted this one to be, so here's some more Denki angst in a First responders au! From Military to a fire station, Denki and his friends have been through it all. But his boyfriend may just test it all. Will Denki survive?

I know nothing medical or military so liberties were taken. And the ending is for funsies, I in no way think first responders would do that. But Bakugou would. TW for abusive relationship! (With an OC not a MC)

:)

… 

Denki liked his job. He liked his friends- his coworkers. He liked that it was easier stakes than their last occupation- not that it wasn't still dangerous. They were first responders now after all, just because being in a war is constant danger doesn't mean what they're doing now is a walk in the park. 

Really, it was just certain moments that had him frowning, the moments where his former training was forgotten and he felt small and stupid. He… loved his boyfriend, really he did… once? No he still does! Sometimes… that's wrong, he still loves him, who else would love Denki if his boyfriend wasn't there?

It was just… hard. 

"Denk's, foods on!" Kirishima flops over the back of the couch, wide grin directed at the blond. 

"Ah, sweet, be right up." Denki offers his own smile back, though he curses himself for how weak it is, because Kirishimas smile dims. 

"You okay bro?" 

"Yeah bro! No worries." His eyes drift behind Kirishima, where up on the balcony his boyfriend is serving food. "Lets eat." 

Denki only gets a couple bites into his lunch when their Captain- Aizawa, looking tired as ever- alerts them of a call for air assistance. Denki and Inei- his boyfriend and partner- stand, the two main medics of the team. 

"Check it out, its sounded like a prank call, but better safe than sorry. We'll be ready with back up if needed." 

"Yes sir!" 

Something sinks heavily in his gut as the two head off, pilot already prepped and ready on the roof, he glances at Inei and it only gets worse. He feels like a kid again, in trouble for no reason he can descern, and about to face the wrath of whomever he angered. 

The pilot takes off, stating in their comms that it'd be a minute, Inei gives a thumbs up before switching both their comms to a private channel, Denki forces himself not to squirm. 

"What was that at lunch?" His voice is cold in a way his face doesnt show, ever good at putting on an act.

"What do you mean?" Denki wracks his brain for anything he could have done wrong.

"Why was Kirishima looking at us weird? What did you say to him??" 

"What? Nothing! He wasnt looking at us." Denki thinks of his faulty smile and internally winces, Inei didnt need to know about that. 

"You must have said something. Between him and the others Im getting a hole in my head from how much they stare. They shouldnt be looking at a hero that way."

"I havent said anything Inei, I swear." Inei has been in the papers and on the news since he was a kid, he'd saved his bus driver- and the other passengers- when he'd had a heart attack behind the wheel. From there he just kept doing things until he'd become a paramedic, he had a 'thing' about being seen as a hero. 

"I dont know what I'd do without you Denki, you said you'd never leave. Are you going to leave me Denki?" His eyes are pleading and intense as he stares at Denki through their helmets.

"Of course not Inei… I promised…" the words taste like rotten cheese on his tongue, and Inei looks less than satisified, but something crosses his face and he nods to himself before turning the channels back. Denki still doesnt feel good. 

The call was some type of prank, some toiletpaper wraped up in a tree and a spray painted emoticon on the ground. They get lower, just to be sure, to scan the area in case there are any people actually in need of help. Denki doesnt expect what happens, didnt think Inei would put himself at risk to make a point or whatever this was. But one moment they're flying low, the next, Inei has knocked the pilot unconcious and the helicopter is going down. 

Denki doesnt know which of them truly landed the copter- minimal damage, it will fly but not well- they'd both moved forward but Denki cant remember past that, only waking up outside the copter, body one big ache. His knee is swollen, he can see it straining painfully against his pant leg. His head spins with every blink, one arm is refusing to move without raging agony, the other is warm with blood dripping from who knows where. He's missing a shoe.

"Im going to show you, Denki. That I'm the only one who cares about you, that you need me." Inei laughs, twistedly delighted with the concept, hes hanging out of the helicopter- the pilot strapped to the portable orange gurney inside, "Cant you see that you're lost without me?" He laughs again as he gestures around them, in the middle of nowhere. "No one will come for you Denki, and then you see me as the hero I am." 

"Inei," his throat feels shredded, "please dont do this." He reaches an arm out, begging him to change his mind, but his grin only widens as he returns to the cockpit. 

The dust the propeller kicks up burns his everything, but his heart in his stomach hurts much worse, as he's left, injured and alone. A trembling hand slides into his pocket, the smallest hope pulled taunt as he tugs his phone free. The screen- cracked beyond recongnision- remains black. A sob wreches from his throat, head thumping on the ground as tears blur his vision. He allows himself this moment. 

"What the fuck happened!?"

"Are you guys okay?"

"Where's Denki!?" 

"The pilot was flying low so we could scout the area. I… don't know what happened, one minute we were in the air, the next we're on the ground and Denki… I couldn't find him… the pilot needed help I… I didn't know what else to do, the radios were not working, there was no time…" Inei watches as the pilot is carted away by Momo. 

"Well then we need to go look for him, he's probably injured!" Mina already has her phone out, dialing for another Helicopter most likely. 

"I can show you guys where we were." Inei says quickly, unknowing of the eyes that had watched him moments before. Eyes that saw when his own darkened at the mention of a search. 

"Keep an eye on him." Aizawas voice is quiet, spoken only to the three boys in front of him. Sero, Kirishima, and Bakugou nod, they'd watch him. 

Watch him fall right over a cliff if he had anything to do with this. 

Denki groans, the stick in his mouth creaking as he clenches his jaw in pain. Relocating one's own shoulder is a precision thing, one wrong move and you're screwed. But Denki had done his own plenty, and others often enough- in all of his occupations. With no medical supplies, he's gone survival mode; ripped shirt for bandages and ties for his sling, sticks as splints, anything he can to keep his injuries from getting worse.

Usually the second step would be a water source, but Denki had seen the area from above, there wasn't one for miles, and Denki wouldn't make it that far any time soon in this condition. He wished he'd had more to eat and drink at lunch, but he'll hopefully have the three days… three days for… someone to find him. His team- his friends- would surely come for him… they've had each other's backs for years, they wouldn't abandon him now. 

Unless Inei was right, and they don't care about him. He's always been bothersome, a burden on those around him typically. It's why he worked so hard to be useful, he'd thought he'd done it, but what if he was still too annoying, too dumb? He… couldn't blame them if they did decide he wasnt worth it. What would they say, if Inei brought him back? What if Inei doesn't? Or… what if everyone assumes he's dead, but he's actually in Ineis cellar instead. Inei had locked him down there before, what if he'd finally lost it? He always said he'd die without Denki, what if he takes that ability away from the blond? Would it be better to die out here then??? 

He pinches himself, hard, takes a deep breath. They were his friends, they were first responders, they were a team, they'd come for him. 

"Are you sure this is where you were? There's no sign of a crash anywhere." Mina does her best to sound worried over accusing, eyeing Inei in the copilot seat. 

"I… I thought so but…" he puts a hand to his head like he was wounded, but they'd all seen his minor injuries. 

Seros phone buzzes in his hands, Kirishima leans forward- pretending to get a better look down below- to shield him from Ineis view. His hope of a message from Denki diminishes, instead a message from their captain. 

{Pilot woke up. Not an accident. Last known coordinates:} 

The second text is longitude and latitude, and Sero gives Kirishima a look. What happens next is truly next level acting, all of them working in sync like a team should. Kirishima leans too far and fumbles, wrapping an arm around the pilot's seat for support and knocking his helmet in the process,

"Sorry!" He gives a cheesy grin, before turning back to the window. 

Next is Bakugou, stretching up to adjust a strap on the ceiling, elbowing Seros own helmet so the man has to adjust it, he gets a grunt as an apology. With a new channel open between him and the pilot, Sero turns to look out the window, Kirishima's bulk still semi-blocking him from view, as he gives the pilot the new coordinates. Mina artfully distracts Inei so the pilot can insert them, doing steady turns to throw Inei off. 

Seros sure the only reason it really works is because the brunet was not military. He could fly a chopper, sorta, as was required to go on air rescue missions, but the inner workings of their district? The guy could never understand their inner workings that came with years together. The whole district was practically their squadron, and outsiders either adapted, or transfered. Inei did neither, simply clung to Denki, made everyone else uncomfortable at the least, down right furious at most. They knew something was up, but for Inei to stage a disappearance like this? 

He would not survive this unscathed. 

Denki watches the sky as he limps his way along, a large stick barely helping as a crutch, one leg stuck straight and one arm slung up. He knows walking is not best for him, that his leg should be elevated, but it's already swollen to hell, and just laying there wouldn't have helped much either. He's trying to stay in the open while daylight lasts- the suns barely up any more, has it truly been that long?- but when night falls he'll need shelter. This was nature after all, and it would not be kind to one who smells like blood and can not run. 

He worries about Inei coming back, about no one coming at all, about what Inei might do to the others. He worries that if he stops he may not be able to start again. His back twinges with every step, his vision is dotted, his head pounds. He needs medical attention, but more than that, he just needs to know his friends are okay. The sun is dipping beneath a mountain, the sky is orange and blues and pink with lingering reds over the trees and tears spring to his eyes as he thinks of all the things he could have done to show his friends how much they meant to him. 

He stumbles on a rock just as a noise reaches his ears. A familiar noise. His head lifts slowly as wind whips his hair around, raises a hand to shield his eyes, there, coming right towards him, is a helicopter. 

And hanging from the top of the rescue line is a tied up Inei. 

His smile is wobbly as he waves.

They came.

[fraener]

3/19/23

yesterday it was 64 out. we’ve nearly gotten past the last frost, there are a few cold nights looming ahead. the day was beautiful and sharp and strange. hans and i had a picnic in the park and while he was out getting a new pair of waders i watched the track house burn, start to nearly finish. the air was heavy with the heat of the day and the fire made a sound like it was crawling. we went back in the night, hans and i, and a few of his coworkers were there watching the last embers leap in the dark. the smoke made us cough and we got weird white stuff on our shoes. the fire department hadnt turned the water main off so everything was flooded. ive been walking so much lately, its helping with everything. i decided not to take that job this summer after all, which of course now im regretting just a bit. i just didnt feel like it was going to be a good environment to work in, they werent being transparent with me about what they were hiring me for through the interviewing process and i didnt like being asked to only teach things that were easily marketable. i dont like a school thats focused on turning a profit rather than providing diverse and unique learning opportunities. plus the pay was going to be shit. i might work for the geoduck farm, but im not fully sure yet. ive been having terrible luck with the grocery shopping, things keep going wrong or something i bring home is off. tonight i spilled my dinner on the floor but i didnt get mad, i just laughed and cleaned it up. i feel a little lighter than usual, i think i feel good. i can feel the writhing worm of anxiety under my surface but i feel good. last night rosie slept next to me in the crook of my body all night long. hans told me this morning that r really didnt like how i carried myself or the fact that i disagreed with her and talked back to her. to her she always found me difficult to control, threatening to her manipulation web and harbored a good amount of resentment for me was incredibly freeing. i dont feel bad about anything ive done now because it doesnt have anything to with me. all of this could have been prevented had she been honest, but she was having a hard time scraping me off, clearly. i ran into amys michael on the street which was a wonderful surprise. ive been reacting poorly to dairy lately, i think all of my allergies are really heightened right now. everything is starting to bloom, the osoberry and the redcurrant and the daffodils and violets are filling the air with pollen and scent. even the plum and cherry trees are opening, slowly but surely. i turned the bed over for spring today, well see if im warm enough. the equinox is tomorrow. the heather gave me a big branch of monkey puzzle tree the other day. i finished up with school for now except my eval meeting. my final critique went well, people liked my work and complimented me a lot on it. one of my classmates said the plate with hans on it looked like it was cracking because the love we had couldnt be contained and it made me cry a little. i love him so much, being with him is helping me heal so much, not being punished for who i am by someone i love is healing me so much. climbing out of the depression, certainly, but not quite there with the anxiety. still have some climbing to go. although things have improved so much in the last year... my intrusive thoughts are much quieter and one track. theyre really only focused on the one thing most of the time, which i am seeing like when im washing the sink and all the gunk gets swished into one little heap headed for the drain trap. were going to work on unburdening in therapy this week a little so i think thatll help. the smell of the rain on the hot pavement today nearly made me cry. actually i did tear up a little, i felt so at peace and unbothered by anything. everything is ringing out a little clearer each time, i am really feeling a return to myself bigger and bigger with each ring. i feel much more comfortable with myself than i did in the voyeuristic relationship i had to myself last year. this year has passed so fast to me in this moment; i feel like everything with o happened so recently. in some ways it did i suppose, only 5 months ago. i want to write more poetry again. i feel like ive woken up from underneath something the last few days, i hope it stays that way. the spring is beautiful. everything is reaching for the light of the sun this year so hard, as if we all felt the quake of my emotions and grief and fear this winter. i was so arrested. i am so close to free now.

[ensnapemysenses]

Can you write some smut. where y/n (his girlfriend) come to in his poition classroom where he correct some student's tests and wanna take him to dinner. But severus tell her that he need correct this tests first. Without hesitation she crawl under his desk and starts blow job. After a while someone knock on the door, it's Minerva and she need something and y/n hear her but she don't stop.Severus is very good in self-control so y/n starts sucking harder and Minerva wanna talk and she doesnt want to leave. The end is uo to you ...hahaha it's verry funny in my head. thank you. love you.

Meddlesome Minerva

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Snape x Reader, fem reader

Warnings: blowjob, cursing, NSFW below the cut!, 18+ only!, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 1,223

Masterlist

A/N: I decided to take this request and write it in the third person instead of my usual second person. I thought it would be a good chance to better focus on Severus and his perspective with this request! I really like how it turned out! :)

It’s Saturday night and instead of relaxing, Severus is grading exams. His quill furiously drags across the parchment as he corrects the student’s answers. The end of term is rapidly approaching and he’s got a lot to do to get caught back up with his classes. He’s in autopilot mode; not giving much thought to how he grades the exams since he’s very strict with what he considers correct and offers no leniency. More than anything he just to be done with all his grading. His eyes lazily skim the papers, dropping slightly more closed as the night goes on. 

Severus is awakened from his dissociative state by a light tapping on his door. He looks up, slightly shaking his head as he comes back to reality, and mutters to himself about how much work he still has to do. He doesn’t say anything in return to the knocking instead he gives his wand a little flick and the door swings open at his command. Upon seeing his girlfriend enter, he shoots her a small smile before returning back to his work. 

“Sev, why don’t you take a break? We could go into Hogsmede for a dinner date. I heard The Three Broomsticks have a new item on their menu and it sounds tasty,” she says, stepping behind his chair where he is seated at his desk and giving his shoulders a quick squeeze.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I really can’t go anywhere tonight. I need to focus on getting these exams graded. Grades have to be submitted by Monday and I have only completed my first-fourth years,” he sighs, shaking his head. He would love to spend some time with her tonight and a dinner date sounds delightful, but he must finish his work lest his job be on the line. Returning to his work, he doesn’t notice as she cunningly slides under his desk, that is until he feels her begin to fiddle with his trousers. 

“What in Merlin's name are you doing?” he questions, scooting back in his seat and glancing down at her to see that she has uncovered his cock from the confines of his pants and is smiling at him devilishly. The cold of the dungeon classroom is not very comfortable, but the sight of her causes his penis to stand erect.

She doesn’t respond, instead, she slowly takes him into her mouth, her eyes peering up at him as she does so. Severus lets out a sharp breath of air and he almost drops his quill, but he’s not going to give her the satisfaction of watching him come undone. Not yet. 

He quickly composes himself and gets back to work on his essays to try and distract himself from what is occurring down below. Several times, a moan almost escapes his lips as she begins circling his tip with her tongue, but he manages to keep his lips sealed.

Seconds later, a loud knock on his classroom door causes (Y/N) to stop suddenly, but just for a moment. “Can’t you stop until they are gone! We don’t know who that is!” Severus whispers, but his girlfriend doesn’t stop though she does slow her pace a bit. Severus coughs to clear his throat. “Come in,” he drawls as if he isn’t inches away from getting the life sucked out of him.

“Good evening, Severus. Is everything okay? I couldn’t help but notice you weren’t at dinner this evening,” Minerva states as she walks up to Snape’s desk. 

Snape flinches a bit as she walks closer and he has to hold back a wince as his sudden movement causes (Y/N)’s teeth to graze against his length. “E-Everything is fine, Minerva. I appreciate you being concerned about me, however, as you can see, I am occupied by the massive amount of student exams I have to grade,” he says, raising an eyebrow and gesturing towards the many piles of exams on his desk.

“Aren’t we all Severus!” Minerva chuckles, pulling up a seat in front of his desk. “I was curious as to who you think the new dark arts professor will be next year. My bet is on a vampire!”

Forcing a small smile, Severus lightly kicks his girlfriend to signal her to stop until Minerva leaves but it seems his attempt just makes her pick up the pace. He grips the quill in his hand so tight that he almost snaps it in two at her sudden increase in speed.

“I - I am in no mood to gossip with you tonight Minvera. I do apologize, but I must focus on my work. Per– Perhaps we can chat more tomorrow,” he says through gritted teeth. It’s becoming ever so more challenging for him to suppress his moans and he needs her to leave immediately or he is going to cum with her sitting right in front of him and that is something he would rather not do.

“Severus! You never pass up an opportunity to gossip with me! Are you positive there’s not something wrong with you? You do look awful flushed and you are sweating a bit. Do you need to see Madam Pomphrey? I can assist you to the infirmary if needed.”

His eyes close involuntarily at the ripple of pleasure he is experiencing, but he quickly opens them again to see Minerva looking at him very puzzled. “Oh fuck,” he mutters under his breath at the sudden change in tempo as his girlfriend adds her hand into the mix of things going on down below and he silently thanks the gods that Minerva didn’t hear his slight outburst.

“Perhaps you are correct. I am feeling a bit off tonight, maybe I’ve come down with a wizard cold of some sort,” he says faking a sneeze to cover up a moan. “Don’t worry about me though, I have a potion that I can take and I’ll be feeling better tomorrow.”

“Let me know if you need anything, my dear. I’ll leave you alone now. Have a good night, Severus,” she says as she stands, giving Snape a small smile and a nod as she exits the classroom, closing the door behind her.

“You demonic little fucker,” he whispers as he throws his head back and finally succumbs to all the pleasure he has been trying to ignore. Moaning as (Y/N) sucks him harder he begins to buck his hips and enter deeper into her throat. It feels so amazing that he is temporarily blinded as he finally reaches his climax, releasing his warm cum down her throat. She swallows every last drop and licks him clean and he whimpers due to the sensitivity as she encloses his penis back into his trousers.

Severus slides his chair back allowing her more space to climb out from underneath the desk. She’s smiling and giggling and he is scowling at her for making him use every bit of his self-restraint to not cum in front of Minerva.

 “That meddlesome Minerva,” she teases. “Interrupting our playtime!”

“You are a little shit, you know that right?” he groans as he stands.“I love you, my darling, but please let’s not do something as risky as that again,” he says kissing her.  

With a twinkling mischievous look in her eye, his girlfriend replies with a smirk, “We will see about that.”

[starfleetwitch]

Do you have any favourite moments from the unit audios?

Hi Nonny!

Off the top of my head I have a few and I'm going to limit it to 10 or we'll be here all day.

Under the cut encase people dont want spoilers :

1. I really loved moment when Kate was poisoned by the Silurian venom and Osgood refused to leave her whilst Kate was telling her to run. In spite of the urgency, its was such a lovely moment where you saw Kate wanting to protect Osgood whilst Osgood wanted to stay and help Kate.

2. Any reference to Kate/Osgood in my pocket.

3. The moment Kate went 1 v 2 with the Tengubishi before being blasted through the air and into the Thames. It was just SO GOOD to see her sassy, confident and in control in spite of being out numbered. Top Kate moment tbh even if she ended up getting wet 😂 That entire ep was gold though. Her standing up to Sir Peter and refusing to let him command her - TOP GIRL POWER MOMENT!

4. Breach of trust as a whole. Because damn. It was an impossible situation. Help refugees and have your planet destroyed, or send a mother and child to their death? The episode really shed a light on Kates inner turmoil as a leader. She cares SO much about her people and her job but it comes with the devastating reality that you have to make decisions that sometimes get people killed, people you care about. I think they did an amazing job with this story because there was tension with Osgate too. They were both equally wrong and right in the arguments they had but again... impossible situation. We've never seen Osgood disobey Kate like that before.

5. Kate fainting or getting knocked out (because who doesnt love a bit of Blorbos passing out every now and again)

6. Osgood being so DAMN happy with Quintin the Quark ❤️

7. THE ELEVEN!

8. All of 10 minutes in Hell. It was SO well written and acted! It was the stuff angsty fanfictions are made of and I LOVED IT! Kates strength in the face of being LITERALLY TORTURED, Osgood's determination to save Kate in spite of people/ aliens fighting her and Josh and Osgood getting shit done (even if some of it was accidental 😂)

9. Action woman Kate fighting Cybermen tooth and nail whilst simultaneously being put in a situation where it was her mind vs Osgood's and ALL of her people were being taken out before her eyes. It showed the vulnerability of Kate behind the facade. Josh accuses her of being cold in regards to her people being taken/ killed but she has to stay strong as a leader and not show any cracks because crying about it wont save anyone in the heat of battle. The loss of control when Osgood locks her out of the system though... her anger/ panic/ sadness at having to go against the greatest mind of Unit, her own woman, is palpable.

10. Kate investigating her own murder - Further going into the vulnerability of Kate... Once again Josh asks her how she can be so calm at a time like this and she LOOSES it! She tells him she feels sick, she's terrified... her own body with a frontal lobe that looked like it was microwaved literally lay at her feet and she had to figure out WHO and HOW it was possible. Also River flirting with Kate 😍 and like 5 Kates in one room 😍😍😍😍

I could go on Nonny. The entire Unit series with Kate and Osgood is PURE gold. I literally have a shelf dedicated to them though so I might be biased:-

[nyashykyunnie]

Might as well hope on the bandwagon. May I please request a Father Xiao scenarios? Maybe his child can be a half-adeptus like ganyu (Child auto-corrected to Childe when I was typing this xD)

A/N: took me awhile to think of a Xiao hc cuz I was tryna choose between some scenarios AHWHEGW Also SAME, MY PHONE AUTCORRECTS INTO CHILDE ALL THE TIME AHAHAGAGSG AND YES XIAO HAVING A HALF-BLOOD CHILD EEE NGL HE GONNA BE EXTRA PROTECTIVE AHADHJADGS I’m so excited for this ehehh. Also tyvm for the req!!! I hope you enjoy this anon!! Btw this was supposed to be for three charas but I got carried away with xiao so ahah,.... Woops =w=;;

𝙵𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛! 𝕏𝕚𝕒𝕠 x 𝙶𝙽! 𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍! ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

.     　﹢　˖    　✦      ¸ .　﹢　 ° 　¸.    ° ˖ ･ ·̩　　 ｡　☆　　　ﾟ ＊ 　 ｡　☆ ✦˖

Having a child, with his own blood running through your veins, you being the spitting image of him- Was the last thing Xiao could ever imagine ever happening to him.

It’s understandable that he was really shocked to know you are his. Xiao is, after all, the Conqueror Of Demons. He is more than used to being in battle, always being on high alert and ready to slash any enemy down since it isone of his duties as the Vigilant Yaksha who protects Liyue.

Xiao was very cautious around you. With your small and fragile body, he feared that even touching you was enough to kill you. The Wangshu Inn keeper had to teach him ‘how’ to hold you because Xiao’s fear of holding you might just make him stay ten feet away from you at all costs.

He watches over you from afar, always ready to strike at whatever dares to bring you harm.

Though, most of the time, the yaksha is always leaving you to Verr Goldet’s care so he can fulfill his duties. It was fine at first- Until Verr had to talk to Xiao about it. He told him that he shouldn’t be too focused  on that job. 

She told him the possibilities of his constant negligence of you, she told him you might grow “Deprived From Fatherly Affection”. Xiao was shocked of course, he didn’t really know that. 

He felt guilty, he was so blinded by not wanting to inflict any form of harm on you, he didnt expect that it’ll inevitably lead you to growing some unwanted mindsets and habits.

Xiao isn’t really one for affection, there’s no need to explain that. Majority of his skills are more on the ‘slaughter’ and ‘exorcise’ expertise.

Regardless, he is not just a protector of Liyue now, he is a ‘father’ now. Specifically your father. This new responsibility isn’t something he will run away from.

Don’t expect much from him though. Xiao is still hesitant to some extent, he’s trying to figure out how he will interact with you.

 Unlike him, you’re fragile. More fragile than glass. He’s afraid of exerting accidental force that will lead him to hurting you. You’re just too small- so small can’t even reach pass his knees(Please this yaksha is just overthinking too much)

Baby steps, that’s what he’ll do. Slow and steady so he wont be too overwhelmed.

He starts off by simply talking to you, maybe even playing with you for a bit with enough begging. Xiao slowly got used to handling you as time went by. Verr was even suprised at one point when she saw Xiao handling you during your tantrums. 

Xiao made good progress with you. He didnt even know that he was unconciously getting attached to you, he didnt know that he adored your presence. He didn’t realize that he gets a little frustrated when he needs to leave you behind. Xiao developed his ‘father instincts’ to such a level to the point that he sometimes wished his Yaksha responsibilties were less demanding.

When you are trouled with nightmares- Xiao will put some stuff to wardoff evil. Though, he also heard that child mortals are more effectively comfoted if they are sung a lullaby, so he’ll do that. Just... Don’t tell anyone else or that will be your last (maybe)

The immortal sometimes even comes home with new clothes since he knew that children grow and he wouldn’t want to see you struggling with the small fit ofyour clothing. He also makes sure to put some spells on them too to ward off evil.

 Xiao unconciously spoils you, his mind always drifting; ‘Maybe they’ll like something like that. Mortal children I’ve seen are fond of those stuff’.  Naturally, he’ll make a way to afford that small gift for you. If he cant, then he’ll just learn how to make it himself.

He loves you, he just doesnt know how to convey that. Being an adepti, being raised as a machine for war- Love wasn’t something he is great at. But even if it’s that, he’ll still strive for you secretly. Xiao will no doubt make the most descreet efforts to adore you. He still doubts himself even after all the progress he’s made in becoming close to you.

“Silk Flowers!” You squeel in delight as you spotted a bouquet of it from afar. You dash off from Xiao’s side, making the adepti startled and call out your name.

But still you were a child, of course you just kept running and running until the ground beneath you rumbled at what seems like caused from footsteps. Your feet wobbled and almost knocked you off of your feeting. Then it stopped, a huge shadow looming over your small figure. You look up only to have the color of your face drained.

“D-Daddy!” You cried out in absolute horror, falling down to the ground. You were terrified, how could you not? Monsters were real, and one of those monsters was about to murder you in cold blood. “Daddy! Help!”

Just at the beast was about to swing it’s flaming axe towards you- The  wind shifted, as if slicing through the air and knocking back the mitachurl.

“How dare such filthy demon dare to even make their presence in front of my child, let alone even dare to strike!” Xiao growled, his eyes flaming gold from raw fury as he walked with the air dancing violently around him. “ I’ll make you pay”

Xiao’s voice was flooded with resentment, his primodial jade radiated as it felt it’s master’s sudden abundance in power. He spun it as his Yaksha mask formed in his face. At the roar of the enemy, Xiao leapt forward, striking the demon in overwhelming speed. He moved so fast it’s too the point the mitachurl wasn’t given any chance to react. But was it done? No, not even a little bit. That demon frightened you to the point your voice faltered in calling him. He has seen you in tears but never to this extent. Xiao was fuming as he plunged down, his anemo spears stabbing the enemy with no hint of sympathy. 

When he finally finished the kill, Xiao’s mask disintegrated and immediately walked to your crying state. He clicked his tounge, feeling a huge pang in his heart as he saw you this disheveled.

“Da-daddy!” You wailed, reaching your arms out for him desperately as your tears clouded your eyes. “Waah!”

He wanted to scold you, he really did. But the sight of you crying like this made the words stuck in his throat. Xiao instead lifted you in his arms, letting you bury your face on the crook of his neck and sob freely. You soaked his shoulder and Xiao didn’t complain, he just rubbed your back to let you know he is there.

“Does anywhere hurt?” His nonlachant voice rung in your ears softly, stealing your attention. “If there is, better tell me now or those wounds will cause  further damage in you.”

“[Y-y/n] is bad.” You hicupped. “[Y/N] is so bad daddy is now ou-ouchie. Daddy now hates [Y-Y/N]”

“Hate? You mortals have odd ways of thinking” Xiao sounded a little rough, making you flinch. “Don’t be ridiculous, I would never bear such hostility towards you. Moreover, I’m not hurt. I’ve lived for thousands of years, pain is something minimal for an adepti such as myself.”

He scoffed.

“On the other hand, your life is counted by only one hand. You have yet to experience what life will truly bring you.” Xiao’s voice started to soften bit by bit as he softly squeezes your small body towards him more “However, I am your father. If darkness decides to crawl at your feet and even when you are frigthened of what’s ahead- Call out my name. I’ll always be there.”

“Da-daddy promises?” You look up to stare at his amber orb. “Daddy will make monsters go bye-bye?”

“Yes” He simply answered. “Now stop your noisy crying, we’re going back to eat.”

He appears cold, his way of talking always straight to the point, but still he loves you. Adeptus Xiao, the guardian yaksha, his power will not simply be used in order to slaughter the darkness creeping around Liyue. With his Vision and might as Alatus, the Golden-Winged King,... He will protect you at all costs and raise you no matter how he is troubled regarding his difficulty in making much of emotions.

You are one his greatest gifts, a treasure he will sincerely hold in his heart forevermore. It doesn’t matter if his karmic binds attack him, he will venture out of it for you. 

A/N: AIGHHTT AAAA ITS MY FIRST TIME WRITTING FOR XIAO HNNN, Did I do good??? AAAA I DUNNO AHDKSGF. I hope you all liked it hngghhhh ;___; Also I’m sorry for being inactive a lot AAAAA, school is starting to get mre and more demanding. I have more hcs upcoming so dw! I wont end up completely turning into a dead ghost!

[manonblaqkbeak]

Sugar, sugar

(genuinely hate coming up with titles lol)

this is just rowaelin being pining idiots, one of my fave tropes for day 11--delayed love confession

just a note, the lifestyle in this fic is more of a background note and doesnt really take centre stage in this fic. it’s one ive been tempted to write for a while tbh but didnt really get around to it until now

cw: very, very light smut (like barely non existent, but just in case), a lil bit of swearing

enjoy! :)

3k words (officially my longest fic, yay!)

Every thought in Aelin's mind was blank. She trudged through her apartment that she shared with Nehemia, absentmindedly kicking off her heels that Rowan purchased for her months ago. Then the light jacket she wore joined the shoes, the fabric was perfectly soft and perfect for the autumn chill.

It was yet another piece of item that Rowan purchased for her. A lot of the things she had know were thanks to Rowan, either from his own wallet or from the biweekly allowance he sent her—a generous allowance that was a thousand times better than her weekly paycheck from the bookstore she'd been working at since she turned twenty-two; her business degree had turned out to be useless and so she turned to the bookstore that had been her stable job for three years.

Aelin barely touched her weekly wage now, it was practically buried underneath the money the Rowan gave her.

Because Rowan Whitethorn, thirty-five and a successful CEO who was well known, was her sugar daddy. Had been now for fourteen months. But he was more than that, more than just a man that paid her to spend time with him. He respected her, was loyal to her, listened to her and responded with actual sentences instead of a word or two like other men she had dated. He was charming, didn't treat her like she was nothing but arm candy, and she knew him so well, as he knew her, and each fortnight she sometimes forgot their whole arrangement, but she was sharply reminded when she received the notification from her bank that the two and a half thousand dollars that Rowan sent her was now in her savings account.

When she agreed to their arrangement after several get-to-know you dates, Rowan had wanted to give her three and a half grand every week, and gods Aelin had been tempted because she had never had so much money in her life, but told him that it was far too much and negotiated.

Two and a half thousand was the lowest that Rowan was willing to go, and even though Aelin only knew him for two weeks at that point, she could tell that he would not budge, so she agreed to the amount.

The first time that money had landed in her account, Aelin had thought that maybe she had imagined the whole thing, but the money was a sharp reminder of what she know was—a sugar baby. Those words still didn't feel like they applied to her.

And he still spent money on her when they spent time together. Just last week he gifted her with diamond earrings in the shapes of roses with a necklace to match. She wore them tonight, not because he bought them for her but because she genuinely loved the pieces.

Needing something sweet—despite the fact she had only finished her chocolate hazelnut gelato twenty minutes ago—she dug through her fridge and found the brownies that Nehemia had baked the other day. She told herself that she would leave some for her long-time friend, but Aelin really doubted that would happen.

Aelin relished in the cold air of the fridge as she found the new can of whipped cream on the top shelf. The fridge was one of the first things she purchased with the money she was now being gifted with (and after that came a new washer and dryer, a dish-washing machine and television. Almost everything in her apartment was brand new now, the food were actual brands instead of the generic, tasteless shit. She had bras that fit her properly and were so damned comfortable that she forgot she was wearing them half the time).

The old fridge was a cheap hunk of junk that she and Nehemia purchased off Facebook marketplace for a hundred dollars, it barely kept things cold, but with expensive rent and bills and general life things, Nehemia and her couldn't afford anything better.

Which was how she ended up in this situation. Picking up more shifts barely gave them anything extra, because the economy right now in Terrasen was shit. Nehemia had made a joke about needing sugar daddies, and Aelin, knowing that Nehemia could never really do such a thing, had decided that maybe it was a good idea.

Nehemia had told Aelin that she was insane for pursuing such a thing, and that she had only been joking, but Aelin was not and that she could handle herself if things went wrong.

Nehemia had told her not to do anything, but Aelin was determined and started her search. It had taken a while to find a website that was genuine and didn't make her feel like she had to scrub her eyes out with bleach.

She created her page in private, because she not only was Nehemia against the idea, but so was Elide and Lysandra—she didn't dare tell Aedion what she was doing. Her cousin could be an overprotective pain in her ass at times, and Aelin was very well aware that if Aedion caught wind of what she was doing, he would have locked her up in her room without any type of device so she couldn't go forward with her plan.

She appreciated their concern, she did, but she was a consenting, tax-paying adult, and if she wanted to use her time to get paid spending time with a rich man, then Aelin was allowed to do exactly that.

It wasn't prostitution, she had looked it up, because it was the sugar babies that had the power and so that was how it went with her and Rowan.

Aelin didn't even have sex with Rowan until it was the sixth month anniversary of her and Rowan's...relationship (and gods, it was the best sex Aelin ever had. Rowan was a generous and completely unselfish lover).

He was the first one she came across on the site and almost drooled down herself when she saw his picture. Silver hair, pine-green eyes, a beautiful tattoo down the length of his left arm and tanned skin, he was stupidly attractive and only ten years old than her.

Aelin messaged him first only after being on the site for ten minutes, deciding that surely he was the best one and that she needn't bother to look at any other candidates.

They hit it off straight away, and after deciding on a restaurant to meet at, Aelin had informed Nehemia of the matter, which she was promptly met with question after question: why can't a thirty-four year old man find someone his own age? Is he one of those men that can't date a woman five minutes older than him because of some stupid made up reason? How do you know for certain that it's him in the picture? What if he's cat-fishing you? What if he's a freak, or a killer? What if he's just pretending to be rich to kidnap you? What if, what if, what if?

And so after a heated discussion, Nehemia had come along on her date-that-wasn't-really-a-date and sat a few tables away from her and Rowan, watching them—especially him—the entire time like a hawk.

Aelin had completely forgotten that her friend was there, so enraptured by Rowan and what he did and how he saw life.

It had been fourteen months of seeing Rowan and genuinely enjoying spending time with him and weeks ago, she realised that she wanted it to be something more. That she had come to care for him, not because of the money, but purely because it was Rowan and he made her feel seen and he wasn't afraid of her, because she had once been told by an ex that she could be too much and that he couldn't handle all her baggage.

Aelin wanted a life with him.

So Aelin told Rowan she loved him when he dropped her off tonight after their dinner and a movie date, telling him how she felt, and he had said thank you. He gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and went home, leaving behind the pine-and-snow scent of him.

Aelin really wanted to find a hole to crawl into and die.

She was scarfing down her third brownie when Nehemia's bedroom door opened, her friend clad in an old matching pj set, her slippers shuffling across the tile.

“What happened? Are you okay?” her friend asked upon seeing Aelin's guttered look. Her dark brows furrowed. “Did that bastard hurt you? If he did, I'll—”

“He didn't do anything,” Aelin interrupted her friend. Taking the food, Aelin planted herself on the teal blue velvet sofa Rowan gave her for Yulemas last year, ignoring the scent of not just him, but of them both from when he came over after work just the other day with pizza and a DVD that she insisted that she watched because it was too good not to, when they forgot all about the movie as Rowan buried himself inside her, leaving hickeys all over her neck that she had to cover up with thick concealer.

Nehemia joined her on the couch, her friend momentarily forgetting for now that she had walked in on her and Rowan just moments after they finished, muttering under her breath in Eyllwe as she glared at them defiling the couch, and gave her a look that Aelin knew that Nehemia would listen to every word that came out from her.

And when Aelin was done recounting the story, all Nehemia could come up with was, “Oh.”

“Yes, 'oh,'. I've probably fucked up the whole thing. So don't be surprised if I call you on your lunch break tomorrow telling you he's broken things off.”

“Aelin, I don't think he will. I know that I'm not the biggest fan of your...situation—”

“I'm aware,” Aelin said, cutting her friend off. “You still won't let me buy you a new mattress, even though yours is hard as a brick and lumpy as hell. I've told you that you can pay me—”

“Aelin,” Nehemia said, “we're not talking about mattresses right now. As I was saying, I doubt he'll break things off because I've seen the way he looks at you. I still think he's too old for you, but he cares for you. You probably just caught him by surprise.”

“How does he look at me?” Aelin was observant, but sometimes when she was with Rowan, all her observation skills went out the window.

“Like he loves you,” Nehemia said, no hint of doubt in her voice.

Aelin sighed, her feelings slowly starting to crush her. “I guess I'll just have to take your word for it.”

Sighing once more, Aelin put the food back in the fridge, showered and went to bed, forgoing her usual night texting ritual with Rowan.

She really wasn't looking forward to tomorrow.

X X X X X X

Rowan couldn't concentrate, which wasn't a good thing, since his job dealt with having to concentrate all the time. But no matter what mind-focusing techniques he did, he couldn't stop thinking about Aelin.

Couldn't stop thinking about how she said she was in love with him. How her beautiful eyes had been sparkling when she said those words to him. And how the light in them dimmed when he said thank you and kissed her on the cheek, telling her that he would talk to her later. But he hadn't texted her, nor did she.

I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.

Thank you. He really couldn't believe that was what he said. Felt like an utter fool and a bastard as he realised he probably crushed her heart. Aelin didn't like being vulnerable, and she had been when she said those words and he had gone and fucked it all up.

Rowan loved Aelin, he did, but he truly wasn't prepared for those words. He loved how on the weekends they would be up at one am, baking chocolate goodies, dancing in the quiet kitchen, humming quietly to Aelin's classical music playlist, with her wearing not the nightgowns that he loved, but one of his old hoodies.

He didn't think that he would get along with her so well once they met, thinking that their online interactions were nothing but a fluke. He was moments away from deleting the profile because he didn't actually create it, but Fenrys had, his friend grumbling that he needed a girlfriend, with Rowan arguing that creating a profile on a sugar daddy site was not dating but probably the opposite, when Aelin messaged him.

His life-long friend didn't listen, much to Rowan's annoyance—but he didn't grab his phone out of his friends hand; Rowan blamed it on the several whiskys he had downed by that point.

Aelin bewitched him on that first meet up. She was intelligent as hell and funny, and creative and beautiful. He was aware of why she was on the date with him, but he didn't care, just as long as he got to see her again.

Fourteen months later and Rowan was still bewitched. He wanted to be with her on a permanent basis, but wasn't completely sure how to take that step.

Clearly, Aelin had taken that step for them, and Rowan was the worlds biggest moron.

I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.

Thank you.

Groaning, Rowan turned away from his computer and looked at the skyline, ignoring the buildings to instead watch the puffy clouds drift by.

Aelin loved watching the clouds, loved stargazing, loved questioning about the universe and what the skies held.

He never really paid any of that stuff attention, not until he met her.

Rowan didn't want to lose her, didn't want her to think that he was about to break up with her over this. He had to see her, so he grabbed his keys and wallet, told his secretary to hold his calls for the rest of the day, and went to visit Aelin.

X X X X X X

It had been an usually busy day for a Wednesday and Aelin was glad for her lunch break as she trudged up to the roof of the shopping centre. She wasn't really allowed up here, but she wanted some fresh air and to feel the sun against her skin as she sat down and dug into her lunch—fast food, unfortunately for her, because she was so frazzled from last night that she completely forgot about making a pack lunch.

Rowan hadn't called her, or texted her. Not even an email had been sent her way.

Aelin hated that she felt so damned mopey. She was an independent woman, but gods, even a good morning text would have been fine.

She finished her lunch, popping several mints into her mouth to get rid of the onion taste, when the roof door crashed open and a familiar hulking figure came into view.

He must have spoken to Elide to find her here.

Aelin's brow furrowed. “Rowan, what are you doing here?” Oh gods, surely he wasn't going to break up with her, she still had hours to go; there'd be no way she could work if she had tears in her eyes.

Taking her hands in his, Aelin stood up. She steeled herself against whatever he was going to say.

“I love you, Aelin. I'm in love with you, too,” Rowan said, his eyes soft and full of genuine love. Aelin's heart shot up into her throat. “I want a life with you. I want us to buy a home, one that has warmth and character, and a big garden. I want a dog. And kids too, if you want, I know that you've never mentioned it, but if you don't want any then that is completely fine. I want to support you in whatever endeavors you want to take, and if you ever want to go back to university, then I'll support you, or if you want to find a way to use your business degree, I'll help you with that, too. Whatever you want Aelin, I'll give it to you, as long as you're by my side, I'll be happy.”

Aelin was silent for so long that Rowan thought that maybe he shocked her into silence. But eventually, she smiled, one that was dazzling in its beauty that it took his breath away.

“You love me?”

“I do, Aelin, I love you.”

She kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

Rowan groaned at the amusement in her tone, in her eyes. “You're never going to let me live that down, are you?”

She smirked. “Definitely not. It'll be a nice story to tell our children...one day. For now, I think we should contend with being proper significant others.”

Rowan nodded, smiling. “I like the sound of that.”

“Good, because I need to get back to work, since I'm no longer accepting your allowances. I won't deny the use of your credit card, but other than that, you are no longer my sugar daddy.”

It was Rowan's turned to smirk, and it was the one that made her core clench. “How about I be 'daddy' instead?”

Aelin snorted, even as she clenched around nothing again. Smacking his arm lightly, Aelin kissed him. “Only if you behave,” she said against his lips, “and now I really need to go back to work.”

Rowan walked her back, their fingers laced together, and as she turned to say goodbye, Aelin said, “I'll see you later, daddy.”

Rowan groaned, and it took everything in him not to take her hand and into his car to have his wicked way with her.

By the time he thought of a response, Aelin was already back to work, helping a customer with an impressive stack of books in her arms.

But she knew he was still there, because the way she swayed her hips to the counter was all for him, and when she saw him watching her, Aelin winked, making Rowan's heart flutter in his chest.

He really did love her. And he would live with her teasing him for the rest of his life, just as long as she was with him.

[kittydcoxx]

Stay with Me.

KAEYA X READER.

Warnings: light angst/heartbreak but nothing bad (happy ending)

The tavern was as crowded as usual, and by that meaning almost completely baren for a rainy Wednesday afternoon. As you order a apple cider from Charles, the tavern door bell rings and you instinctively turn to check.

"Ah~ it is pouring out, I need a drink to combat the dissapointment of getting my fur cape wet."

Kaeya. Of course he wasnt the last person you'd expect to see open the tavern doors, he just wasnt much of a "afternoon delight" type drinker. Still, you stare as he tries to cooly swipe off the wet rain from his uniform as he walks towards the counter and takes a seat next to you.

"Well, well! Good afternoon y/n! What a suprise to see a beauty such as yourself here at this hour."

He raises an eyebrow and smirks as he turns to look straight ahead and run his fingers through his hair, not allowing time for you to respond before he has a drink in his hand.

"Afternoon Captain,"

You face him and smirk with the same intensity of flirty-ness as he just had.

"Of course you would be surprised to see me at this hour, you usually drink yourself to sleep before i order a evening drink."

You chuckle and look straight ahead and take a swig of your beverage, the confidence of your little witty come back replays as the cider burns your throat.

"Oh ho, well thats quite the attitude! I must ask, whats the purpose of this?"

"Hmm?"

"The occasion? I've never seen you drink three days in a row, I've been sober enough to pay attention to that."

The truth is, the last few days you've been at a bit of a crossroads. You know you and the Cavalry Captain share feelings, but you have a job offer in Natlan. This job is a dream to you, ever since you were a child. You could never dream of passing this opportunity, but you question if this possible romance could be the first significant one. You've been meaning to bring it up to him, but recently you just havent seen enough of him to bring up the subject. As a result, you turned to the more than occassional drink at the tavern to brighten your mood from the decision that faces you.

"Well then if you're interested, it actually... might concern you."

Your face is flushed red due to nerves, of course it doesnt directly concern him since nothing astronomical has occured in order to absolutely weigh your decision based on a man, but you didnt want to leave without warning.

"I see, well, we haven't..." His cheeks grow the slightest bit red as his eyes skip to look around then back at you.

"we haven't progressed to that yet, have we? I mean, you're not pregnant are you?"

"What?!" You're taken aback by the direct-ness of his statement, about the fact that he thought it could even have been a possibility. Was it confirming your suspicions of him returning feelings? "No, i- its not that! That is out of the question completely!" You yelp as you shake your hands as a frantic meaning of saying "Absolutely no way".

"Of course! of course.. i just figured i'd ask in case, but i guess drinking for a few days regularly isnt particularly healthy for a baby."

You roll your eyes and take another swig. Oh boy.

"It's actually more of an advice thing, i suppose."

"Ah~ well! lets discuss then, hm!" He happily takes a sip of his wine, his face surprisingly relieved.

"So? What do you need the great Master Kaeya's guidance on?" He smiles and giggles slightly.

"Actually, I'd like to take this outside."

"But its raining cats and-"

"Outside. please."

Your tone picks up more aggresively and he gets the memo. He takes one more sip of his beverage and you do the same with yours. You pay Charles and meet Kaeya right at the door.

"Get ready for the rain, sweetheart"

Your heart jumps as he grabs your wrist and swings open the door, pulling you with him down the street, stopping at a small archway behind a building, big enough to comfortably converse without being cramped or drenched.

"Now, where were we?"

"right.. well.." You look down and fidget with your thumbs, only to look back up at him and see him gazing into your eyes, examining your soul and what felt like your heart. Did he already know? It sure felt like it.

"I have a big decision to make, but i want to ask you before i come to a concrete decision."

He nods as a sign to continue talking, acknkowledging his position in helping you decide.

"I might have to move away. To natlan more specifically. I've recieved a dream~ job offer that i simply cant refuse, unless i was faced with new circumstances here in Mondstadt."

"Hm, And how do i play a role in this?" He asks as he folds his arms and leans back against the stone wall.

You explain to him his part, and he lets you talk until you are completely finished. you tell him your feelings, your worries, your doubts, and your hopes. Every single one that included him in the package. He looks at you sternly the whole time, but he looks hurt at the same time and you wonder why.

"Well, i honestly dont know what to say to this y/n. You know i cant leave Mondstadt if we were to persue eachother."

"I know."

"Then why bother telling me? Why not just leave, hm? Before damage could be done? before you told me all this, confirmed my hopes in our relationship but crushed it with the fact that you 'might' leave? You should have just spared me and left!"

He looks emotional and teary eyed, much more that you're used to seeing from a man who held such a cool composure 24/7. Have you hurt him that much? Does he hate you?

"I can always stay if you wan-"

"No. Its your dream job, and you shouldnt pass it off. I just cant promise that i'll wait for you."

He steps closer to you, inches from your face. His breath is warm and it contrasts with the cold rainy air. He slowly takes your hand and hold it in his, then lands a soft passionate kiss onto your lips. A few seconds of the kiss pass and he breaks for air and looks at you, making strong magnetic eye contact with you.

"Y/n, I can't wait for you."

"You dont have to. I can stay."

He runs his hands up your arms and grips firmly onto your shoulders and kisses you again, and when he pulls back he lets out a heavy sigh.

"There's no staying, just be safe. Please."

Your throat swells like a rock is stuck and your eyes burn hot along with your ears. You cant muster any words, you just stand there maintaining a sorrow eye contact for a few seconds.

As you both stare in silence, he slowly lets go of you, and as soon as his hands depart from yours, he turns and walks out and into the road. The further he walks and fades from your vision, the further you slide down the wall until your behind hits the wet floor as you curl up to your knees. Hard, Hot tears stream steadily down your cheeks as you hide your head in your knees, sobbing hard yet silently. Your heart aches and your stomach churns.

You want to run and look for him, grab him by the waist and embrace him in a hug from behind as you cry against his back, but he has already erased you from his plethora of memories as he sulks in his room with a drink. The night is weary and so are you. You walk home, replaying the scene in your mind over and over, and the instant you step into your home, you fall to your knees and sob once more.

You dont even close the door behind you. You cant do anything but cry, you had no idea you felt so strongly for Kaeya, but you had to put it all behind you.

He probably had.

What feels like an hour or two goes by and you barely made it to the couch, where you lay sprawled out, half on the couch and half not as you stare into empty space, thinking of nothing but everything at once. Why did his mood snap so quickly? Why did he cut you off? Was it self defense? What could he gain by pushing you away? You had no clue, but you didn't want to dwell on it and start crying again, so you just lay there trying to fall asleep.

Suddenly, a warm, slender hand grazes your back and rubs up and down softly.

"I'm sorry."

You jolt a little, but you dont get up immediately.

"How long have you been like this? Its almost night again y/n. Have you gotten up at all!? Your door was wide open, I was worried."

No response from you as you try to analyze the voice. It sounds like Kaeya, but you had remind yourself that he wanted nothing to do with you.

The man sighs and walks away. A hallucination for sure, you thought. The male comes back and lifts you by the shoulders. He sits on the couch and then lays your head onto his lap.

You look up and are met with blue eyes, one scarred and one as normal as you're used to seeing on him, though both glossy as if about to cry.

"Kaeya?"

"Mhm. Sit up Darling, you need to drink water."

You obey and sit close beside him, sipping the water he hands you with both hands on the glass like a child. He puts his arm around you and his hand on your head and gives you a soft yet quite long kiss on the head as you finish your water.

"Im sorry. We can work something out. I know that i shouldn't.. I can't push you away."

You dont fight his embrace as it gets firmer, and his body trembles slightly as if he is crying.

"Do you want me to stay?" you ask sheepishly.

"My dear, its up to you what you want. I'll follow you in whatever you decide. Im choosing to persue you, the rest is yours to seal."

"I want to stay." you state calmly.

"As you wish." He eyes your empty glass of water and gets up to pour you some more. When he comes back you sit against him again, and drink the glass empty, then put the glass on the coffee table and lay your head on his lap.  

"Sleepy?"

"Mhm.."

He chuckles and holds you as you fall asleep, giving you tender kisses all over your face. When you fall asleep, he carries you bridal style upstairs to your room and tucks you into your bed. For a moment he stands there and ponders leaving you to rest, but the guilt of the words he said yesterday and seeing your state today convinced him to stay at your side. He walks to the other side of the bed and crawls in beside you, wrapping his arms around your waist and gives you one more peck before falling asleep.

You wake up once in the middle of the night to use the restroom, and when you come back to your room you're awake enough to process the fact that Kaeya was indeed in your bed. You crawl up into where you were in the bed before but this time facing him. You run your fingers along his face, feeling every bone and inch of his smooth skin, his tan beauty enhanced by the glow of the moonlight that peeked in through the window across the room from the bed. Your run your fingers down his hair and admire how his hair falls down his body. You've only been this close to him once, but never had you touched him like this. Your face was red and your smile was definitely pronounced, and as you stroke his cheek his eyes slowly open to see your expression.

"Good morning y/n~" he smiles and wraps his arms around you softly.

"How did you sleep?"

"Actually, its midnight."

"Oh, i see. Well, lets fall back asleep shall we? Or are you wide awake?"

You don't respond immediately but instead wrap your arms around him and hide your face in the crook of his neck.

"Back to sleep.."

He chuckles and brings you closer to his body, rubbing your back and stroking your hair until you both are hazy and about to fall asleep.

"I love you..." you whisper, half aware of what you just said and half not.

He pauses for a second, then gently squeezes your body as if to be his response back.

"I love you too.." he whispers back, his words echo in your mind as you drift to sleep, your dreams filled with nothing but happiness and him. 

You would stay in Mondstadt, but occasionally take trips to Natlan for a few weeks, and would try to take Kaeya with you if he wasn't too busy. The two of you became inseperable, and quite the item for some time, the story of your romance left most who heard it in tears.

After every time you tell the story, he grips your hand and grabs your face softly making you look into his eye.

"I'm glad you stayed."

He says as he pulls you in for a tender kiss, which is usually embarrassing in public but you dont mind in this case, because it was of genuine emotion and not of his flirtatious teasing.

You really do love him.

NOTES!!!!!!!!!!!

This was my first fanfic LMAO

[reidyoulikeabook]

Last Kiss

Ship: Spencer Reid x GN! Reader

Summary: A series of kisses.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, no happy ending, allusion to smut but nothing explicit.

A/N: I am going through a break-up and I'm probably projecting I'm so sorry

June 5th, 2012

"Spencer let me off!" You insist, undercutting your own demand by collapsing into a fit of giggles as he pushes you harder, spinning the tyre swing around faster.

"What do you think Henry, should we let Auntie ____ off?"

"Nope!" Henry almost cackles with glee, clapping his hands together in amusement.

"Spencer!" You protest, holding on tight as it whirls you around, "If you're going to make me stay on then you should both get on too!"

Spencer shares a conspiratorial glance with Henry, considering the proposition. Without answering you verbally, Spencer scoops Henry up, passing the boy to you. You loop your arms around him. He's resting tightly against your body when Spencer clambers on, getting himself settled into a position that ensures he won't fall off before kicking off the ground, hard.

"Weeeeeeee!" Henry cheers, purposely swinging himself as much as he can in your arms.

Spencer's face is an absolute picture: hair flopping everywhere, smile so wide you can barely see his eyes, lit up with happiness at the sight before him. Your hair is a complete state, sticking to your face, your stomach hurts from laughing but you're the very definition of joy. If he's honest, that's making him smile a lot more than the frankly quite nauseating swinging.

"Feel sick!" Henry announces after a moment or two more.

Spencer slams his feeet down on the ground, pulling you to a grinding halt.

"You okay bud?" You ask Henry, setting him down on the floor and holding on for a moment to make sure he gets his bearings.

"Yeah! Gonna go on the slide now!" He yells, darting off towards the slide only about two feet to your left.

You turn to watch him, feeling familiar arms wrap around your waist.

"You're going to pay for that later."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well then I guess I'd better make sure I have a lot to pay for," His fingers travel upwards from your waist, finding the spot where you're ticklish and starting to tickle you mercilessly.

"Spencer!"

"Yeah?"

Between indignant huffs of laughs, you manage to twist around to face him. He's grinning, incredibly pleased with himself.

"You think you're so funny don't you?"

"Henry agrees."

You shake your head, "IQ of 187 but it falls to about 60 when you're deciding whether or not to push your luck."

He smirks, "I've got a lot of it to push."

His hands meet the small of your back, pulling you flush against his chest. His eyes flicker over to Henry, who's happily waiting his turn for the slide. And then his breath is fanning over your face, warm with laughter and happiness and summer air. He kisses you, gently.

Your arms loop up to around his neck as you deepen it.

A fatal error.

His tickling restarts where he left off, drawing breathless laughs out of your mouth that spill against his lips, into his mouth.

"Spencer Reid!"

By the time you wriggle free, you're slightly flushed. He smiles, a dopey sincere smile that you don't ever get to see often enough.

"It's a good job I love you," You tell him.

"It's a good job I love you too."

Before you have time to consider a revenge attack of a similar nature, Henry decides it's time for Uncle Spencer to push him on the swing.

***

August 12th, 2012

Spencer is still sleeping when you wake up. His lips are slightly parted, allowing for a gentle sigh to accompany each exhale. He looks so content when he's like this: the stress he carries in his jaw practically melted. He doesnt snore, just lets out little breaths.

Your finger traces a line on his chest, spelling out ‘I love you’ in a tiny repetitive pattern.

You have the excuse of not being a profiler, so you don’t notice the change in his breath. How it stills, stutters slightly.

His eyes flutter open. He watches you, saying nothing: the pull of concentration in your brow, the way you watch your fingers, the way you mouth the words you’re spelling out as you do it.

“Hey,” His voice is gentle, trying not to startle you.

“Hi.”

His eyes are bleary with sleep. Blinking at you, he stretches his arm from behind his head, motioning for you to come closer. You nudge toward him, allowing him to embrace you. Closing your eyes, you fall into his touch. All there is his him. His scent, the wood-y scent of his cologne and the something that’s uniquely Spencer, the temperature of his body. You’ve joked before that he’s like your personal thermostat, he seems to always be either the perfect amount of warm or cold.

It’s easy to imagine the rest of your life in his arms. The contentment of this moment is one you’ll remember later, the next time he gets called away for a case.

“What are you thinking about?” His voice is quiet.

“You.”

You can feel the intake of his breath, “What about me?”

“How much I love you.”

He shifts. When you open your eyes, he’s staring down at you. His pupils are dilated. You don’t have to be a profiler to know what that means.

He squints sleepily at you, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards into a smile, “I was dreaming about how much I love you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He tilts downwards, kissing you. Your lips move quickly against one anothers, practically inhaling each other. You can’t get enough of him, hurriedly and clumsily and drunk on love, you kiss each other.

September 5th, 2012

"Spence,” You whine, his lips trailing along the underside of your jaw.

“Yeah?”

He’s made quick work of his pants but his shirt is still on. Lately it feels like he’s hardly around and it makes you want to consume him even more when he is. You drink in the sight of his thighs, practically trembling with want.

“Can I?” You ask, fiddling with his shirt buttons.

He nods. You pry them open, shedding him of the material so his bare abdomen is exposed to you. Fingers raking over his chest, you look up. His eyes are dark, plush lower lip catching between his teeth.

“Please.”

You’re not asking for anything in particular.

He kisses you hungrily, tongue slipping ionto your mouth, seemingly searching for something. Somewhere inside you, you get the sense that he can’t find it. There’s no time to dwell on it though, because the kiss is passionate, heated, and soon he has your mind taken off it as his mouth leaves yours and traverses its way down your body.

October 17th, 2012

You’ve barely finished dinner before he’s making his excuses to escape to his study.

“Do you want me to go?”

“No.”

“I can leave, Spencer, honestly. If you have work you need to be doing.”

“No, I want you to be here,” He reassures you, voice cracking with sincerity.

Your gaze is searching, and he avoids it. He picks up the files, setting them on his desk. He heads over to the sink, refilling his glass with water and putting out a mug for the canteen of coffee he’s got brewing.

“It just doesn’t seem like it.”

He frowns.

“I don’t mean-” You cut yourself off, sighing and fiddling nervously with your hands, “I just, when you’re working I don’t feel like you want me to be here. You’ve been away all week and you’ve come back to do more work.”

“It’s not-”

He sighs, approaching you. His hands cover yours where they sit at your waist, shaking his head, “I don’t want you to feel like you’ve done anything wrong. Ever. You haven’t.”

“It’s just hard sometimes.”

He frowns, imploring you to continue.

“I feel like you’re closing yourself off. I know the job is hard just-”

“I’m not.”

“Spencer you didn’t hear me out.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence. He chews at his lip, clearly regretting having shutting you down so harshly.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

He waits you out, tilting his head.

“I just don’t want to be smothering you.”

“You’re not.”

“I feel like I am. When I show up here and you’re doing work, it makes me feel like I’m smothering you.”

“You’re not.”

“Okay,” You fiddle nervously with the fork on your plate.

He crosses the room towards you, kissing you. It’s brisk, feels hurried, almost like his mind is somewhere else. But his hands on your hips, the securing of your body to his. The way his fingers knit through your hair, cementing you. The closeness is almost overwhelming. It feels like he has a point to prove.

When he pulls away, his mouth tips upwards into an almost smile.

“Let me finish this, and then we’ll watch a movie.”

It’s easier to allow him to pull away than fight it.

November 30th, 2012

“Can you not stay?”

He shakes his head, “I have a lot of paperwork to catch up on.”

Folding it into his arms, he turns away from you. His retreating form seems to be all you see lately; he always seems to have somewhere to go, and when he doesn’t he still sits like this. Hands folded across his chest, fists balled up under his armpits. He hardly meet your eyes.

“Spencer,” Your voice is soft, almost begging.

He relents, turning around. The remorse hangs in his half-smile. His curls look deflated, dry. He obviously hasn’t been conditioning them. He looks defeated. It scares you.

You want to ask, but the question catches in your throat.

“I’m sorry. I know I’ve been busy lately.”

“I just want you to be okay.”

“I’m okay.”

“You don’t seem it,” You regret the words as they leave your mouth, the look that washes over his face pains you: the pinch of defensiveness in his brow, the way his mouth sets into a thin line.

“I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” There’s an edge to his voice, not cutting, curious and displeased.

“I mean things are different, Spencer. You’re closed off, you’re quiet, you seem like you’re not taking care of yourself. And you can speak to me. I understand if you don’t want to but you can come to me about anything, and you don’t, and you keep telling me you’re fine and I know you’re not and I don’t know what to do anymore.”

The words spill out of your mouth. Your chest aches, your eyes glint with tears. You meet his gaze, and the remorse catches in his throat.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles, crossing the room to you, “I’m sorry.”

He tucks you under his chin, allowing you to bury into his neck.

“I’ll stay,” He tells you, soft, “I’ll stay.”

You nod, allowing the tears to spill into the crook of his neck. He pulls back from you. He appraises you, taking note of you. He presses the tiniest of kisses to the corner of your mouth.

Your mouth twists, a grim imitation of a smile.

“Shall we order dinner?” He asks, placing the files down.

You can only nod.

December 9th, 2012

It's raining when he lands. Hotch offers to drop him off, it's past midnight and while the Metro is still running, there's no way he can take it at this hour. The case was brutal, and he's exhausted.

Your digital clock reflects 1:53am in red letters onto your wall.

Beside you, your phone buzzes.

1:53am - Spencer

Hi. I just got home. Let me know when you're awake, I think we need to have that conversation.

1:54am - You

I'm free if you want to call.

Your phone rings at 1:58.

“Hey,” You answer.

“Hi,” He says.

There’s a moments silence. A no-mans land forms, both of you sat in your respective houses. Neither of you willing to breach the topic.

He speaks, then, all at once. The words tumbling out of his mouth, like he’s swilled them and spat them out.

"I think we both know things haven’t been right lately. I’ve been pulling away and it isn’t fair to you. I’ve been struggling and I’ve taken it out on you and let it affect our relationship. I think I need some time. I don’t think I’m doing you any good being around you. I’m not giving you what you need. I don’t want to hurt you. I love you and I know you love me too much to leave. So I have to leave. And I know it sounds like it’s for me, like I’m hiding behind you. But I have to do this, for us both.”

27 seconds. That's how long it takes for him to say the words that shatter you.

January 4th, 2013

The shirt smells less like him by the day. You've tried to ration yourself, limiting your wearing of it only for times just after you've showered. Avoiding scented shower gels or lotions.

It’s been a month since your phone call. Thirty-one days exactly. He’d said he’d needed time.

It’s been twenty-three days since you last heard from him. You don’t count the days intentionally, it’s just hard to forget. Hard not to keep track of the distance between you.

The message had been simple.

2:52am, 13th December 2012 - Spencer

I’m sorry.

You hadn’t replied. You’d drafted various iterations of one:

For what?

No you’re not.

You can’t just apologise Spencer, that doesn’t fix anything. I don’t understand what happened. I don’t understand how you could just leave, after everything. After a year, you just thew everything away.

Fuck you.

None of them seemed fitting. No words could capture everything: the anger, the hurt, the confusion, the loss. Sometimes, late at night, you’d sit and type a reply. Hoping that somewhere, wherever he was, he’d be watching. That for some reason, he’d have the messages open. Seeing the three dots pop up on the screen, and sensing the longing. If he was, he never gave any indication.

February 2nd, 2013

Penelope's instagram feed reveals a new picture of Spencer, his cheek pressed against Emily's. They're wearing matching costumes. You vaguely recognise it as some show he always used to talk about, one that was in Russian. One they both loved. A swipe across reveals the rest of the team, a group photo of them donning various costumes.

It aches.

Every day you get further away him. From the last time you kissed him. Every day it's hard to remember the details of it. It's all getting fuzzy, like a video tape you've worn out by replaying it too many times. Did you kiss him or did he kiss you? Was he wearing that lavender shirt or was that a detail you'd added in?

No wonder eyewitness testimony was so unreliable.

Somehow it almost makes you obsess over it more. Trying to catch the dimming light between your fingers, as if you could drag it back into the spotlight, front and centre, full details illuminated. Would that make it better or worse?

Your stomach sinks. Pushing yourself off the sofa, you force yourself to look past the picture of you, him, and Henry from that day in the park. The one that still rests on your mantelpiece. Maybe it'd be easier if you could compartmentalise him. Packed him away in a box, or threw him in a trash can.

Maybe it's pathetic.

If you close your eyes you can almost feel his warmth. How it felt to lie in his arms, the press of his lips to your forehead. Soft and reassuring. I'm here.

The slight rise and fall of his chest. His lips slightly parted, his head lolling towards your shoulder. How you should have savoured it all. Reached out and touched him.

You think of all the times you lay there in his arms, thinking you'd remember that moment later. It was true, you'd always remembered it when he was pulled away to a case. You'd close your eyes, and remember how it felt to be curled up against him. Safe in a little cocoon of affection. Now it burns in your chest.

There's nothing left of him now but what's been. You trail him along with you, like a rag of a childhood blanket you can't bare to part with.

He can't offer you anything now. You yank him forward into your future without his permission, traipsing your old memories through to your present, forming new ones only through Penelope's instagram feed and conversations with the team.

It's not that you don't love and miss them too, but they're his.

Every time you call it's pleasantries, soft and familiar until the words you've been rolling around your mouth since the beginning of the conversation spill out, "How's Spencer?"

He's fine. He's always fine.

It's odd, how the person you spoke to everyday, the man who knew your favourite colour, what your go to animation is, how you like your caffeine, ambles on without you. He seems to make it work, live his life without remnants of you spilling out.

So why can't you?

You're a cup filled with Spencer Reid. With every day that passes, a bit of him drains out. Slowly, you'll forget his opinion on Kurt Vonnegut novels, how he likes to lay the cushions out when you make the bed, the way he makes hot chocolate.

Your last kiss.

***

December 3rd, 2012

"Here you go," You smile but it's tight-lipped.

He returns the same one, accepting the lunch you'd packed him with a quiet, "Thanks."

"Have a good day at work."

He nods. He looks up at you, stubble teasing at his jawline. He hasn't shaved in a couple of days, and you'd comment on it if it wasn't for the hollow look in his eyes, almost imploring you not to speak.

The lavender shirt compliments him well, too well. The shade matches the all too prominent purple bags under his eyes.

"I'll call you if there's a case."

You nod, taking a tentative step towards him, "Can we talk tonight? I feel like we need to have a proper conversation about things."

"You're right."

"I'll see you later."

Unexpectedly, he takes a step towards you. His hand hesitating at your hip, settling for hovering in the air just in front of it. He leans in, pressing the lightest of pecks to your lips. Shocked at the contact, you kiss him back, deepening it.

To your surprise, he returns it. His lips move against yours in a way that's familiar, feverish. Your hand comes up to his cheek, swiping at the errant curl of hair tickling you.

Your lips glide against his, savouring the secondhand taste of coffee.

His tongue slips across your lower lip. Then he pulls away.

There's a blush tinging up his neck, and he almost gives you a real smile, "I'll see you tonight."

Permanent tagslist: @takeyourleap-of-faith @sassiest-politician @calm-and-doctor @ssa-m-187  @seasonfivereid @averyhotchner @muffin-cup @purplewaterbottles082

(message to be added/removed)

[iaminlovewithtrr]

Christmas with a stranger

This is my submission for 'gift of cheer' by @cordonianroyalty and @texaskitten30. This is the fluff one shot requested by @anjanettaexcordonia.

Characters belong to pixelberry

Pairings:LiamxRiley

A/N: this is the first fic I have ever written, so i apologize for any mistakes. Criticism is openly accepted, negative or otherwise. Feel free to say anything!

Tags: @texaskitten30 @cordonianroyalty

@kat-tia801 @eadanga @xxrainbow-princessxx @knightthunderis @kingliam2019 @anjanettexcordonia @stuti-singh @queenrileyrose @bbrandy2002 @twinkleallnight @bebepac @ladyrileyrussel @hopelessromanticsposts @dcbbw

Summary: Two strangers spend Christmas day with which each other, which changes the rest of their lives.....

Song inspiration: All I want for Christmas is you

Word count:2683

I don't want a lot for Christmas

There is just one thing I need

Don't care about the presents

Underneath the Christmas tree

I don't need to hang my stocking

There upon the fireplace

Santa Claus won't make me happy

With a toy on Christmas Day

I just want you for my own

It was the morning of Christmas, and Riley was overly excited. She always waited for this time of the year, especially Christmas. Nothing is more enjoyable than sipping cider in the presence of her beloved and enjoying the Christmas meal, she always thoughts. Orphaned at 4 ,she didn't had a blood family to celebrate with , but was blessed with a great deal of foster family and friends. Every year, during Christmas, as a sort of tribute, she spends the entire day celebrating with the children of her previous foster care. Watching those kids playing merrily reminded her of her own good days in the past.

She quickly ate her breakfast and made her way out of her NY apartment, whistling and softly humming to the tune of All I want for Christmas is you, her favorite song.

More than you could ever know

Make my wish come true

All I want for Christmas is you

Baby....

She was so engrossed in her little singing gig that she barely registered the stranger coming towards her, and crashed right into his broad chest, spilling her reticule's content on the sidewalk.

"Oof"she yelped, rubbing her forhead.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! Let me help with those! " the stranger apologized.

Riley and the stranger kneeled down at the same moment to collect her scattered belonging, and for the first time the two glanced into each others eyes. Ocean blue eyes locking onto dark ones. Damn... Those eyes.. Riley swallowed.

"Ahem" she softy cleared her thought, quickly collected her belongings, and stood up.

"Sorry for that. Should've watched my steps. " then she quickly disappeared into the crowd, not noticing the stranger eyes on her from behind.

Riley finally arrived at the foster care. Loving hearts. A bit strange name, but filling her chest with warmth nonetheless. She rummaged through her reticule for her Digital key card, but it was not there.

"Uh...?"she muttered. "Where the hell is my keycard? "

After a few moment of searching she gave up. "Im not going to get in there without my key card...."

"Excuse me Miss.... But I belive this is yours. " a voice behind her startled her.

Riley turned around and found herself staring at the pair of those same dark eyes she encountered earlier. I'd recognise those eyes anywhere, even though I had stared at his eyes for less than 5 seconds. The (cute) guy i bumped with!

"Ahem" the stranger let out a exaggerated cough and riley realised that she has been staring at his face for a solid 10 seconds.

"Right.. Ahem... Sorry... I mean... Thank you for returning this. You totally saved my ass--, i mean my...my...job". Way to make a fool of yourself Riley.

The stranger laughed quitly. "Well then I am glad I could save your job. But I should get going."

Just as he turned, a little voice in the back of her head called out to her, and instinctively she reached out and grabbed his sleeve.

"Er... Sir... I know this is extremly forward of me... But if you would be kind enough to spend the day with volunteering at the orphanage I work at? We are kinda short-staffed tonight, and there aren't much volunteers. Those children at the orphanage will be quite happy to see a new face. You could spend the with them. And me. If you are free, that is?

Crap. Crap. Crap. This i really asked a random hot stranger to volunteer?! Snap the hell out of it Riley!

Plz say yes. Plz say yes. The little voice inside her screamed.

To her surprise, he gave her a smile. "Id be happy to. I don't have any special plans for today. Btw. "

He smiled, and stuck out her hand to shake hers.

"Liam Rys"

"Riley Brooks". She said she she shook his hand. A familiar electric tinge sparked through her veins as she held his hand. His hand impossibly smooth underneath her. Woah! Are guys even supposed to have this soft hands? I wonder what kind of moisturiser he uses....

"Miss Brooks --"

"Call me Riley. "

"Well ahem, Riley.. it is rather cold outside. What say we make it inside? "

"Oh right."

She quickly swiped her keycard and stepped inside, sighing contentedly as the warm air from the heaters enveloped her. She melted a little inside as she felt Liam's warm body alongside her. Brushing this aside, she focused her attention on the scenario in front of her. Numerous gift boxes piled beneath the Christmas tree... Children merrily running and there... Volunteers mingling with each other and the children... The aroma of the food... And the Christmas songs softly playing in the background. A wide smile played on her lips.

While Riley was busy observing the surroundings, Liam found his sight stuck on the beautiful women he had known for not more than 15 minutes. She was beautiful, in a way that the noble ladies back at home in Cordonia arn't. And seeing her here in here element, smiling widely without giving a damn about public decorum or whatsoever, he found himself attracted to her. And without a second thought, he agreed to volunteer. We'll see how the day goes...

Liam cleared his throat, claiming her attention. "So what needs to be done? "

"As you can see this is a orphanage, so the children here dont have any families to celebrate the holidays with. So each year, myself and many other gather here to celebrate the celebrate with them. Thats what we have to do. Mingle with the children, play with them... And make them feel loved. "

"Sure. I can definately do that. I actually volunteered too at orphanages back home."

"If I may ask, Where are you from?

Liam immediately stiffened at the question. When he asked his father for a quiet getaway before the beginning of the social season, meeting Riley was not on the itinerary. And the fact that he was leaving Tommorow didnt helped either. The last thing he wanted to do was to lie with her, but he wasn't going to destroy these good moments he had with her by revealing that he was the crown prince of cordonia.

"I'm actually from one of the small islands surrounding Greece. "

Before she could open her mouth to ask more, Liam immediately turned away to play with one of the children.

The day went on quite peacefully and quite enjoyable for Liam. Holidays back home were anything besides spending with families. It was all about press conferences and photo ops and disguised motives hidden away in gifts. But here I was a lot more different, the sight of children playfully jostling each other without giving a damn made him smile, as that was the part of childhood he missed.

He suddenly felt a small hand on his shoulder and his pulse quickened at the feel of skin over his clothes. Behind her was Riley, holding a eggnog mug in her hands.

"Not to ruin your volunteering gig, but I got you something. "She said as she handed him the mug. Their fingers brushed, and lingered for just a moment longer.

"Ahem. Thank you. " Liam blushed, his ears turning pink.

Riley chucked softly at his antics. He is already so cute, and looks extra cute while he blushes.

Night came quickly. After winding up all the activities for the day including the gift exchanging and christmas dinner, all the children were put to bed and the volunteers were bidding their goodbyes. Only the foster care staff plus liam was left behind.

Riley glanced around. All the staff were mingling on the rooftop, with only her and Liam left in the main hall.

"Hey.... " she softly asked Liam, who was lounging in a chair beside her.

"Yeah? "

"Will you accompany me for a little walk around the times square? I just wanna clear my head a bit. " And hopefully spend some time with you...

He smiled. "Sure! Just let me get my coats. "

The pair walker out of the building and into the cold, brisk night. Celebrations were in full swing outside. Its called the city who never sleeps for Nothing.

Outside was really cold, and with the softly falling snow Riley barely suppressed the shiver that ran up het spine. Suddenly she felt strong arms around her shoulders and a moment later a coat was wrapped around them.

"I would be a terrible gentleman if a let a beautiful lady like you freeze to death. "

"Beautiful, huh? " she teased.

He blushed. That blush.

They both arrived at the square, staring at the enormous Christmas tree situated in the very middle. The glow of the lights and mini bulbs bathing them both in a gentle bluish light.

"Its really beautiful, isnt it? Riley asked. Just as she turned her head towards him liam's eyes quickly found their ways towards the decoration. Was he really admiring me than the beautiful decoration in front of him? Was it possible that he was feeling the same fluttering in his heart that she felt whenever they interacted? No, it can't be. I am reading onto this too much. We are strangers. Strangers.

"Indeed it is. " Liam quitly whispered, hiding the blush in his cheeks. Crap, she caught him staring at her. I hope she doesnt think i am creep or something. To Liam even the most beautiful decorations paled in front of her, she was more beautiful than any sights he had laid his eyes on. Don't get too attached, Liam. Its temporary. You are going to leave tomorrow. There can nothing be between you and her. You have a duty back home. This is just a little escape from reality. They are strangers. Strangers.

Just then the local band striked up a a waltz. All around them peoples paired up, with Riley watching the couples with a hopeful gleam in her eyes... which didnt went unnoticed by Liam. And in that moment, he knew what he had to do.

Liam bowed a little in front of her, and held out his hand, his other arm draped around his back. "May I have this dance? "

She smiled as she put her hand into his, her pulse quickning, "It would be my pleasure. "

She awkwardly bowed, earning a chuckle from Liam as he sweeped her in his arms, her one hand on his shoulder, his on her waist, their free hand twined together. They elegantly twirled together on the makeswift dance floor, stepping in time to each rhythm. As they glided together, liam couldnt help but gaze down at her angelic face, illuminated by the surroundings. His gaze strayed to her lips just as Riley glanced at him, they met each other halfway as their lips come together in a magnetic kiss. Time seemed to stopped when his lips met hers, and the flutter in their chest intensified. Riley's finger gently curled in his coat as liam tangled his hands in her soft brown curls. She smelled like jasmine, a scent that liam is all too familiar with. Their hands tighten around each other, almost desperately, refusing to let go, their lips moving against each other in perfect harmony. Liam tightened his arm around her waist, pulling her into his chest, and Riley softly sighed as she breathed in the scent of him.

For that moment it was only the two of them in the entire world, all the surroundings fading into nothing. Their little bubble of heaven was broken as the pair heard the the sound of clapping and soft cheering. Flustered, Liam grasped her hand and led both of them out of the dance floor and into the streets, grinning all the way.

The two of them found themselves at the threshold of a quint restaurant, and they both collapsed onto the stairs, still holding each other while wearing goofy smiles.

"So... That was.... Something else.. " Riley chuckled.

"Indeed it was. " Liam snickered.

As he glanced down at the lady in his arms, Liam felt a sudden tinge of guilt in his chest. I still haven't told her who I am. I have to tell her.

After her laughter had subsided, Liam gently took her shoulders in his hands and looked square in her eyes. "Riley, can I have a word with you? "

"Yeah... What happened? "

"I haven't told you where I am from, or what I am doing alone in a unknown city without my family. The truth is I am the Crown Prince of a small country called Cordonia. "

Riley stared at him, then burst into laughter. "Haha, Liam, nice joke. If you are a crown prince then i'm Kate Middleton." She stopped laughing when she saw the look on his face. "Oh, you are serious?"

Liam nodded. "Of course. I have no reason to lie to you. I just wanted to let you know that....that...." He struggled to move forward. "That i'll be leaving for Cordonia Tommorow morning. My social season will commence once I get back. I have to choose a bride from all the noble ladies presented to me as suitors. "

Her face fell. "You... You are really going back... I just thought we.... " She trailed off.

"I knew Riley, and I am sorry that I didn't told you sooner. I understand if you are mad--"

"Of course im not mad Liam. You did what you thought was the best. You just wanted a nice time without wandering about your duties."

"I... I wished we had more time together Riley." He whispered.

"Then lets make the most of it. We just have this night tonight, Liam. And I want to make it count. For just this one night let's just be Riley and Liam, two peoples without any obligations.

Riley pointed to the mistletoe over their head, then leaned forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss. He immediately responded, his hand cupping the side of her neck tenderly as she ran her hair through his dark hair. They pulled apart, staring into each others eyes, then their lips came together again, more passionately this time.

"Merry Christmas, Riley."

"Merry Christmas, Liam."

The night was spend together in Liam's suite, tangled in the sheets and in each other's arms.

************

The next morning

Liam woke up in his room.... Alone. He glanced around, none of Riley's belongings were in sight. A single note was on the coffee table beside the bed.

Liam,

I want you to know that the short time I have spend with you more to me than I could describe. You gave me the one thing I wanted most for Christmas...Family. I'm grateful for that. I'm sorry that I had to convey this to you by a letter, but i thought it would be better for both of us. Perhaps we will meet again.

Riley

Liam reached and wiped the lone tear that has escaped on his cheek. "I'm grateful for our time together too, Riley.

**********

Cordonia

It was the evening of the masquerade ball in the palace. Liam was dressed in his usual black regalia with a matching ornate mask. No matter how hard he tried, his thoughts managed to make their way back to Riley. Be a good prince, Liam. She's gone.

Liam stood in the huge elegant ballroom, a queue of noble ladies in front of him. Each lady he encountered, whether it was the poodle loving lady Penelope, the diplomat's daughter Kiara, or his best friend Olivia, made him realize that none of them were her.

The next lady approached, who was adorned in a white angel costume, with a literal halo above her head, her blue eyes peeking out of the glittering mask. Why are those eyes familiar...

"Hello..." Liam greeted her politely. "I don't believe we have met... Have we?"

The women smiled, then reached behind the back of her head to loosen the mask strings, Liam caught a glimpse of a familiar face as she removed her mask.

"Riley..."