#but i'm so excited to have them back on my screen

[captainjamster]

Pairing(s): 141 x Reader Warnings: mentions of (pixel) animal death, butchering of a pixelated cow (rip thank u for ur sacrifice) Wordcount: 2.3k Summary: How I think you would get the boys into Minecraft and/or what it would be like playing with them. AO3 Link: Right here! <3

A/N: Hello why yes, this IS my first post in four months despite the mountain of unfinished fics I have xD I will edit any errors out of this later, but I'm making myself post this because I'm tired of avoiding uploading until something feelings perfect lol

We're pretending Mojang is competent so ignore any inaccuracies to how Minecraft actually works <3

Full fic under the cut <3

Price just plays to amuse you, but he becomes competent at the game ridiculously quickly. Yes, he might jokingly be an old man, as his favourite youthful commander would put it – but this ‘old man’ can learn new tricks, and he’s pretty sure some of the technology he works with would make a civvy’s head spin. Though he’s unfamiliar with most video games and consoles, sacrificing his youth for service, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t heard of them or played a game or two. John will admit; he doesn’t see much point in it, but adores the excitement you glow with as you’re adventuring and building.

“Alright, so it’s w, a, s and d to move, right? And then the space is to jump.” Your hands barely stretch over his, guiding them to the keys.

“S’easy enough, I suppose,” he rumbles, giving you that smile that crinkles his eyes. You resist the urge to kiss them as he adjusts his hands over your keyboard, giving the buttons experimental taps and watching how the screen reacts.

“Yep, and then you use the mouse to control your head, look around and stuff.” You nudge it over to him, and he gives it a shake before looking around.

“More bloody blocks. What’s that thing, there?”

You squint, looking closer. “A sheep, don’t worry about it. You want to try moving around?”

Once you’ve taught him the basics, his rapid acclimation to the games and controls are jarring. While he doesn’t become some Minecraft speed-runner pro, he’s an equally capable player in fights and foraging, and your base is ridiculously plentiful. You’re never lacking resources, and although he never mentions it, you can see John bloom with pride from the corner of your eye whenever you praise him for the neatly organised provisions.

You have to laugh at his suspicion of everything – “is this hostile?”, “this one hostile?”, “s’hostile one?” – and the way he takes protecting you seriously, scolding you for not wearing armour and giving you his own until he can make more.

The first time his dog dies, you think it might be over for your Minecraft run. He goes silent, aggressively hitting the keys as he slaughters the mobs around you, only speaking up when the area is clear. “I didn’t know that would happen,” he mutters, picking up the dropped loot as you make a sympathetic noise. When you log on the next time, waiting for John to come back with snacks from the corner, you don’t mention the small fence with a sign reading ‘Price Jr’ tucked into the oak trees at the edge of a pond – but the next time you check it, there’s another daisy swaying in the wind next to yours.

-----

Gaz knows what Minecraft is AND he’s played it – you’ve even played it together before. This boy is a gamer, and he’s down for a night of co-op couch games and take away with a cosy blanket if you are too.

Though he tries his hardest not to let it show around you, Kyle is aggressively driven in becoming competent, and that includes in video games. You never have to worry about dying, although it becomes a little frustrating when his experience level is more than triple yours – but you can’t even stay frustrated, you learn, as he unfalteringly drops his items and starts building a dirt stack that he jumps from, exploding into clouds and XP that floats towards you with a light, twinkling chiming. When you scold him for doing something so unnecessary, he gives you a kicked puppy look over his shoulder, pouting up at you. “I didn’t want you to wait for me to make a mob farm!”

Unlike Price, this man IS a Minecraft pro – he’s pulling out the water bucket to save you from falling, using beds to fight hostile mobs in the underworlds, zooming around with fireworks and an elytra to find that rare, specific coat of cat you’ve been running across the map looking for. You’re pretty sure that he could’ve beat the Enderdragon twice as fast if you weren’t there, but he still insists you were an equal champion of the fight as he proudly places the dragon head on your trophy wall.

Gaz is always prepared when the 6-month Minecraft fever hits and you make a new server. He’s sending you pinterest links of cute house ideas, making comments about adding another coop for the chickens and a pond for turtles. Hell, he’ll build them with, or even for you, if you want him to.

Playing with him can sometimes be similar to one of those youtube tutorials that cut back to a clip after some ‘offscreen building’ and they’re standing in front six life-scale cathedrals and a replication of Mt Everest – each time you log back on, you swear he’s expanded your base by another chunk, and you can’t even be mad you didn’t get to do anything because your world looks GOOD, and Gaz makes damn sure of it.

He has just about everything you can think of, and if not? There’s a sign next to his bed for you to note anything missing. Your main base is situated within a town of villagers with minecart roads and furnished houses, bakeries, animal centres, banner and dye stores – hell, he’s even built a zoo and an aquarium for the animals you can’t tame. All of your pets have names that he refers to fondly, each with their own little houses in a miniature version of the village. Despite the effort he puts into housing them, Gaz is a menace to the villagers – bad deal? Executed, or imprisoned at best. Sometimes logging onto for a session turns into a dramatic medieval roleplay as you dutifully play the executioner, triggering the trapdoor to give way to the pool of lava while Gaz finishes dramatically reciting the villagers’ crimes from a book - gives the ones that get to live names like ‘village dunce’ and ‘emerald hoarder’.

When you do build by yourself, he’s your project advisor throughout the process, patiently supplying the materials and helping you with the details. “Babe, this doesn’t seem right,” you grumble, head in your hands, “can you please come look?”

He’s quick to slide his chair across to yours, leaning on the sides. “This one,” he announces after a quick scan. “You added an extra block.”

You recount again, letting out a groan as you start breaking the blocks, and Gaz dutifully rolls back to help you. He’s your partner in crime, complicit in indulging your abandonment of any appropriate sleep schedule, staying up until he calls out your name to find you asleep, drooling on the keyboard.

-----

Soap does not give a shit until you mod the fuck out of it.

Yes, he knows what Minecraft is, thank y’very much bonnie, but he just doesn’t care for games that much. Like Price, his youth was spent either trying to get into the military, or actually being in it. The only games he’s entertained are his small selection of first-person shooters he plays occasionally off deployment that you can never beat him in. The topic first comes up is over dinner after a call with Johnny’s family, as he’s grumbling between bites.

“My sisters weans play all sorts ‘o stupid games, bloody bite my head off if I call ‘em the wrong thing – Minecraft, Roblox, aren’t they all the same?”

“Aren’t all shooter games the same, by that assumption?” You point out to his distaste, and he makes a face at you, reaching over the table to steal a bite of your food.

The next day, you pull up Minecraft for him to properly check out. Johnny isn’t particularly enraptured by the charm of the game, but he perks up when you mention the redstone mechanics. “So, it’s really just all block-y? And ye smack things wit’ yer hand?” He frowns, leaning against the back of your chair.

“That’s one part, yeah. But you run around and gather resources, by mining and stuff, so you can craft and build better things to survive – you know – Mine, craft. Minecraft.”

Johnny scoffs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “Y’think I’m daft, now? Taken too many knocks to the head, aye?”

“Let go of me, you’re going to get me killed!” You squawk, and he lets you struggle for a moment before he kisses the top of your head and releases it, wandering into the kitchen for what you assume is a snack, knowing Johnny.

The next time he takes interest, you’re still up when he stumbles in blearily, rubbing his eyes. “Bonnie? Yer not really still playin’ this, are ye? Y’haven’t even slept?”

“I was going to sleep soon,” you huff, turning back. “I just need to get a few more things and go back home.”

There’s an incredulous noise amongst footsteps over your shoulder, and his voice is suddenly a lot closer in your ear. “Soon? S’five in’ the morn’ bon, are ye just gon’ sleep the day away?’

You pause the game, spinning the chair around to meet him with a glare. “Why are you up this early?”

“International meeting, don’t go changin’ the subject.” He spins you back around despite your protests, leaning back upon your chair once again and peering at the screen. “Cannae see what yer enjoyin’ about this.”

“Wh – I mean, it’s not like last time. This time, I’ve downloaded these files that modify the games contents, and there’s way more crazy shit. You can mod it so much it’s like a new game.”

Johnny makes a noise of interest, dropping down to settle against your shoulders. “Really now?”

“Yeah, like look at this. I’ve got a gun in the game.”

A shotgun appears in your hand as you scroll to the hotbar tab, and you shoot a shell into the ground, listening as Johnny clicks in appreciation, surprisingly satisfied after his scrutinising. “Alright, show me ‘er properly.”

He hovers over the chair for a few more minutes, taking in your overview of the mods. “Oh, and this one! Hang on, look.” You hit a cow, and Johnny watches as it falls to the floor. Grabbing the body, you drag it over to a pixelated hook, and show him how you break the carcass down through the stages, collecting parts down to the bones.

He makes a noise of interest. “Si would like that. Can ye play with other people?”

You spin around to give him an excited grin, feeling the sleepiness retreat with your rapidly building enthusiasm. “Why, you want to join?”

Johnny scoffs, but there’s no hiding how his eyes gleam as a smile tugs at his lips to mirror yours. “Only after I finish the meetin’, and y’get some decent fuckin’ rest.”

-----

Ghost doesn’t care until Soap asks him to play.

When you originally ask him, it’s a late evening, and he’s curled up on the bed with a book as you deliver the question. There’s a pause in the turning of pages, and you get the usual dead-eyed stare when you say something he thinks is stupid over the edge of his book. ‘Y’want me to play a kid’s game?”

You give him your own scrutinizing look back, before turning back to the screen. “It’s not a kid’s game, Simon. Video games aren’t just for kids.”

He doesn’t press the topic any further, but you know his mind is often unchanged - so it’s a nice surprise when he brings it back up again a month or so later over the quiet chatter of some foreign film he’s watching, stirring you to look up from the words of your book.

“Oi, what’s that game y’were talkin’ about? Bloody… Mineshaft?”

You think Simon knows perfectly well what the game is called, but you humour him, pulling the blanket down slightly to look at him. “Minecraft?”

He snorts, leaning back into the armchair. “Yeah, s’one. Johnny’s bird got ‘im into it, won’t stop yappin’ ‘bout it now.”

You hold your breath, doing your best impression of nonchalance, directing your gaze back to the book. “Oh, yeah? That’s nice, sounds like he’s excited about it.”

Simon gives a non-committal grunt, but you can tell his focus is beyond the screen he’s looking towards. “Asked me t’play it with ‘im, bloody bastard. Said ‘e’d paid for a server or some shite.”

Excitement explodes in the back of your mind as you mentally praise your husband’s co-worker, thanking him for his influence as you steady your tone. “Well, why don’t you?”

He snorts with a cross of his arms, holding the remote against his chest. “Don’t know how to do all that rubbish.”

You close the book, sitting up and waving off his statement assuredly. “I have it installed already, you don’t have to do anything – oh, but can you ask him if he’s playing with mods?”

He’s not impressed with the request, frown deepening. “What, ‘m I your personal messenger now?”

But you’re onto him already, guiding the topic back on track. “Alright,” you give him a dry look, “give me his number then.”

The show pauses, and Simon looks back at you. It takes a moment, but you know you’ve won with a roll of his eyes, grumbling under his breath as he pulls his phone out and passes it to you after another message comes through.

>> Bonnie got me a whole folder of mods. Liek a whole nother game. Yer gonna play minecraft with me?

“So what?”

“Okay, well that’s easy to set up.” You pass the phone back to him, settling into your comfy nest of blankets. “So?”

“Are you going to play with him?”

(A month later, there’s another desk snug against yours while Simon fumbles with his screen settings as a broguish laugh comes from the headset, and Friday nights are something you’re realising you’ll never get back from that goddamn pixel game)

Headers and Dividers by saradika-graphics

[stxrryskys]

His way of apologizing

n/a: In which, he made you upset and feels really bad:( so he tries to make it up to you! By eating your pussy like a starved man!

a/n: I feel like he would be a MUNCH he is definitely a MUNCH. Thank you, your honor. ENJOY! |

REQUESTS ARE OPEN BTW..... SO REQUEST PLEASe

C/w: oral (f receiving), dirty talk, soft Dom Daisuke, kinda mean reader in beginning, fingering, AFAB reader, use of the word panties.. Ik I'm sorry. lmk if I forgot anything!

Not proofread

"C'mon dude! Why won't you just forgive me!" Your desperate bf pleaded, he was practically on his knees, you both were sitting in the lounge on the couch, the screen with the bright ass sun in your face wasn't helping with your frustration, neither was your boyfriend.

"First of all, I'm not your "dude" and second of all, quit apologizing becuz you don't even know what you did! " you couldn't help but raise your voice, you were angry, I mean, how could he? You were embarrassed, ashamed, and overall pissed!

So what did Daisuke do exactly. Well, poor baby got so excited when you guys first had sex he had to tell someone, he wanted to tell curly but he was always busy, Jimmy? No.... What about Anya! Hmm.. No.. That'd be awkward since she wasn't a guy- Swansea! Sooo.. He told Swansea, he told him about how amazing you felt and he even showed off the scratches you left on his back, he was so proud of himself and Swansea gave him a big pat on the back.. But jimmy overheard... Then he told curly.... Then curly blurted it out to Anya during a conversation sooo everyone knows.. What if they think you're a whore...Anyways! You were all in the mess hall, eating dinner when jimmy brought it up.

"You guys sure are two active bunnies, huh? " he said as he he took a bite of his soup

"Huh? What does that mean? " you asked so innocently, I mean, you really didn't have any idea what he was talking about

"I think he means the fact that you guys fuck alot. " Swansea then said.

what.

Oh my god oh my god- his fucking quarter walls were made out of steel so no fucking way someone could've heard them- daisuke had to have told them!

"Oh. And why are we bringing up our... Private habits? "

"Well Daisuke told everyone.. " Anya said quietly

What.

How could he? He knew that you wanted to keep your bedroom life private and he went against that and you were furious.

"Oh." Was all you said, everyone went on about their day like they hadn't just humiliated you, Daisuke didn't see anything wrong with it, goddamn ray of sunshine doesn't even see what he did wrong

Which brings us back to here. You sitting on the couch and him right next to you, his hands clasped together as he pleaded with you

"Look! I'm sorry for whatever I did! I just don't want you to be mad at me, love! "

"Well I'm mad! "

"But why? "

"You told everyone about our sex life! They fucking humiliated me at dinner tonight! And you didn't even do anything! You know I hate being put on blast and being put in the spot yet you said nothing! So pardon me if I'm upset! "

You crossed your arms as you raised your voice. Oh. That's why you were upset, god did he feel dumb. He just wanted to die, he didn't even realize how much he hurt you...

"Ah.. I-im sorry.. I uh.. I really didn't think you would mind! I should've talked to you about it.. And I'm sorry for not standing up and saying something I rea-

"Forget it, Daisuke! Honestly just fucking forget it! " you got up and speed walked to your quarters, you were so pissed you didn't even wanna hear about it.

Daisuke decided to just leave you alone for now. He felt dumb, he felt so awful, he never meant to make you feel that way, he sat on the couch thinking about ways to make it up to you and.. Bingo! This was perfect! He hopped up off the couch and went to your quarters, he gently knocked on the door, it's not like it was locked but he didn't wanna barge in.

"What do you want? " you said softly, you felt kinda bad for yelling at him

He opened the door and shut it behind him as he walked in. He walked to your bed, and toppled over you, his lips crashing into yours. Your eyes widened

"What the fuck- what the hell are you- " he interrupted you by kissing you again, it's not like you didn't want it you were just caught off guard

"Im *peck* sorry *peck* "

He kissed down your neck and stopped at the collar of your shirt

"Let me make it up to you, please? "

"Make it up to me how- AH! "

You gasped loudly as he basically ripped your pajama pants down and lifted up your legs to get them off of you, he threw them on the floor

"Jesus! What the-

"Hush.. Let me apologize to you.. " he opened your legs and positioned himself, like his whole body between them, his torso hunched over your lower belly as he placed small kisses over your neck

"Okay okay.. Fine.. "

He smiled against your neck, sucking softly on your supple skin, leaving a light pink mark, lifting up his head slightly and smiling at the mark he had left. He then tugged at your shirt and made you lift up your arms so he could take it off.

"You're so beautiful.. I.. God you're so perfect" he said as he stares lovingly into your eyes before dipping his head down to devour your breasts. He nipped at your sensitive nipples which were already hard from the cold air

It felt like an eternity passed while he was leaving light pink marks on your chest, he ran his tongue along your stomach and he moves his body down, his face just above the waistband of your panties, hooking his finger under.

"C-can I? " he looked up at you and you nodded.. "I wanna hear you say it.. Use your words please..? "

"Yeah.. G-go ahead.. " you nodded and be didn't have to be told twice, he tore your favorite panties off but, poor baby was just excited :((

He spread your legs further as he dipped his face between your legs, kitten licking your folds before turning his head to the side to kiss your inner thighs, leaving some marks before diving back into your pussy, immediately going in with his tongue. He flicked his tongue out and lemme tell you.. His tongue is sooooo long like.. Genocider Jill long..

As his tongue flicked out to go inside of you his teeth grazed your clit and you arched your back a little

"A-ah! Teeth- teeth Daisuke! " he didn't listen, more like he didnt hear you but can you blame him? He felt bad and was focused on making you feel better. It was only when he lifted his head up when you tugged on his hair. "Are you okay, love? " he looked up at you.. Your slick dripping down his chin, jeez.. Were you that wet?

"Y-your teeth.. "

"Oh shoot! I'm sorry! " thats all he said before he dipped his head back down, continuing to eat you, he brought his fingers up and pulled his head away for a couple of seconds and almost immediately inserted 2 fingers in you, thumb circling your clit as he pulled his head back in and continued.

The combination of his fingers and his tongue had you close, you grabbed his hair and that was his breaking point, he added a THIRD finger and curled them inside the part of you that needed him most.

"D-dai.. I'm close.. I-im gonna cum.. "

He nodded his head as if telling you to let go, you pulled his hair as you came undone all over his face, you know the walls are soundproof but if they weren't the whole ship would be awake

He pulled away after he lapped up all of your cum and slick, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you feeling empty. He put them up to his mouth and licked them clean before wiping them on his shirt. Then he wrapped his arms around you, his head resting on your lower belly.

.....

"Do you forgive m-

"Shut up, I forgive you.. "

"Yay! Awesome!! "

.....

"I love you"

"I love you too, Daisuke.. "

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS.

. The ending whas kinda rushed..

REQUESTS OPEN 👿

[mae-gi-writes]

let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (4)

In which you, as a new divorcée, can't help but crush on your 4-year-old's new PE Coach.

genre: singleparent!reader x coach! Kuroo, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

taglist: @patpatspatz @matchagirliris @multi-fandom-fanfic @alittlebirdahgaselx @kuroos--little--kitten @menacejelly12 @aeshiue @dreamlessnight @altheades @loonalockley @not-your-average-fangirl @bertqut1 @sunlixfl-blog @nabboo007 @astolary @biancatomlinson @lauraagrace

a/n: enjoy! <3 thanks for all the love given to the first part of this story! here's the second part. Third part is coming soon ~

---- previous | part four | next part >>>

"I think I need a drink."

"Oh don't be so dramatic," your cheeks flush bright red. It's bad enough you don't know what to wear to your date with Kuroo, worse now that your blonde cousin is here to make fun of you until you're nothing but a squealing mess of embarrassment. You have half a mind to kick Atsumu out of your flat and call Osamu for help.

Alas, the grey-haired counterpart is busy with his restaurant these days. So it won't be fair to put that kind of responsibility on his shoulders. Definitely not when his twin is currently on vacation.

Atsumu just sends you a lazy smile from the living room couch, "aw c'mon Y/N. This is probably the first time since Aoi left that you're finally interested in someone. Isn't that something worth celebrating?"

"It's just dinner," you argue.

"And dessert," Atsumu winks.

You throw a pillow at him. He cackles even when it slams right into his face, "I'm joking!" he wheezes like a child high on sweets, kicking up his legs like Sakura would when she's excited, "I just can't believe it! And with someone I can vouch for!"

"What does vouch mean?" Sakura asks from her seat. She had been so glued to the tv screen ever since her uncle had the greatest idea to watch the reruns of the two Frozen movies. Little does he know he'll be stuck re-winding it again and again until he knows the lyrics by heart.

"Vouch for, means like to confirm something, from personal experience," Atsumu replies.

"Hm," Sakura frowns, as though an adult trying to contemplate his words, "I don't understand."

"`It's like if you tell me that you won third place at the egg race," you lean over the couch to rearrange your daughter's hair, "and I say that's something I can vouch for, that you won third place."

You watch, heart melting as Sakura's lips form an 'o' shape. She blinks up at you, "I still don't understand."

Atsumu guffaws, "it's okay sweetie. You don't have to understand it yet. You want some more of those marshmallows?"

You slap your cousin's hand away from the half-empty bowl, "that's exactly why her teeth are rotting," You snap at him, "why don't you give her real food?"

"I will! Once you get off my back and go have some incredible se--"

You toss another pillow at him and his yelp makes you let out a small chuckle. Thank god Sakura can't really put two and two together yet, and for that you're glad. At least it's possible to shield her innocence from Atsumu's wide mouth.

"Can you just go?" mumbles the said man himself from behind the pillow, "I thought your date was at six."

"Yeah but it's--" and that's when you realise it's not half-past five like you thought it was five minutes ago, "Oh shi--I mean shoot," you cut a glance at Sakura while grabbing your bag off the kitchen counter, "I'm off. You take care of her and--"

You round the couch, plant a quick kiss atop your daughter's head before heading towards the door, "--you keep her safe 'Tsumu!" you holler while tugging on your loafers, "and Sakura? Eat your veggies!"

"But I hate them mum!"

"They're good for you, and--"

"Y/N," Atsumu cuts you off with a shooing motion, "go. Now. Bye bye."

"Yeah--Yeah okay," you blow a raspberry and throw a final wave, "right. Bye then."

The dining place which Kuroo has suggested a few days back -- right after the incident in which you'd found yourself into his arms -- is tucked away into one of the corner streets, not quite far from the main road, and yet unnoticeable to passerby's with just one glimpse.

It's modern and cute, casual in a way that unconsciously makes you relax slightly as you walk through the olive-coloured doorway and take in the sight of rusty brick walls adorned with green ivy running along the ceiling, the wooden furniture and the cozy bar at the far right.

Kuroo is already seated at one of the smaller, circular tables, and raises a hand in greeting while you make your way to him.

"Hey," he's dressed differently today. Not at all how you usually see him; a dark v-neck and some dark trousers to match.

The sight makes your tummy tighten deliciously, "hi," you manage to croak back.

"I really thought you were going to bail on me," he has on a teasing smile, "guess I was wrong."

"That's the impression I gave you?" your eyebrows raise.

"You always surprise me," his grin widens at the heat flushing through your cheeks. Cute, he thinks, "anyway, I've never been here but they have good cocktails. Or so google says."

"You're that kind of person aren't you?" You take a menu from the centre of the table and scan the options, "the kind that reads a hundred of reviews before deciding on a restaurant?"

"That's what it's for, isn't it?" he tilts his head at you. That same, cocky grin that turns your heart to mush.

Jesus. He really needs to stop doing that.

You look back down at the menu, "I don't know. I don't eat out much."

"Then let me be your official guide," he says it with a wink, and you can't help the chuckle that bursts out of your mouth.

As per Kuroo's recommendation, you decide to opt for a seafood pasta while your host decides on a pizza to share. The food comes right as you're halfway through your glass of wine and by then you're comfortable enough that the conversation seems to flow easily, gathered in a cocoon where only you and Kuroo exist and where everything -- even reality -- seems to fall away piece by piece.

Oh god. You're already in a bit too deep.

And the fact is, it's not even that hard to fall for Kuroo. Because he's just so nice and kind and gentle and everything that you've ever really wanted in a man. He's bashful in a way that reminds you of a pop in need of attention, careful with the way he handles your feelings, and seems forever wanting to please. And maybe that's something most girls would find off-putting given the fact that mysterious men are all the rage nowadays.

But you're not like most girls. You like this golden retriever energy coming off him. You love that he asks for your opinion and is as soft as a marshmallow on the inside.

You also love how he talks to Sakura. Not just because she's your daughter. But it had been clear from the very beginning that your daughter was a little bit in love with him.

By the end of the dinner you're not surprised to find that your leg is brushing against his casually, comfortably, as though you've been friends forever. And when you catch his golden flecked eyes from across the table, the twinkle of fire in them, the small sprinkles of molten golden mixed into warm maroon does something to your heart.

He fights to pay the bill like a true gentleman, but then splits it with you when you throw him a scowl and protest that he's done more than his fair share.

"I just wanna tell you I'm not happy about this," he grumbles as you are handing the waiter the rest of the cash for the night, slipping on his jacket with his bottom lip jutted out like a child, "I will take you out properly one day."

"Then I'm going to look forward to it," you tease.

Kuroo looks down at you, "you--you mean that right?"

"What?" you glance at him, noting the uneasiness, the surprise on his face, "that you can take me out again? Or...did you--I mean, I won't mind if you don't--"

"I don't mind one bit," he breathes and your chest exhales in relief. Gods, you thought he was going to tell you there was to be no next time.

Because again, who wants to be tied down to a single mother with a four year old toddler? Most of your tinder dates would've already blanched and snuck out of your date by now.

"I'll take you home," Kuroo is already going to unlock his car door, but your hesitation makes him falter as he takes in your hesitation, "what is it?"

"Uhm--well, Atsumu is there tonight. He's babysitting Sakura," you send him a sheepish smile, "Unless you don't mind going back there, but I--I thought we could maybe ...spend some more time alone...together?"

Heat is spewing across your cheeks by the end of your sentence, but the fond look that Kuroo gives you doesn't go by unnoticed as he cracks a grin.

"Sounds good to me," he gestures for you to get in, "wanna go get some ice cream then? Or a drink?"

That is how you find yourself sharing a couch with the sports coach, nursing a cucumber cocktail in your hand while he has a beer in his. You tease him about drinking when he's supposed to be the definition of health, and he answers that you're supposed to keep this little secret under wraps.

"I wasn't allowed to drink at all, until I left my volleyball team," Kuroo mentions then as he takes a swig of his drink.

"That sounds like a lot of sacrifice, especially for you."

"What does that mean?" he teases with a grin.

"While other boys are out there raving, experimenting with stuff," you answer and tilt your head towards him, "didn't you get jealous of what they could do and what you couldn't?"

"I suppose to an extent," he shift his legs and it brushes against your thigh, shoulders pressing to yours as warmth suddenly seeps into your right side, "but I had a lot to gain. So I never thought I missed out. Plus, all my good friends were on the team. So we suffered together if that made sense."

"Yeah," you smile at the thought of Atsumu and Osamu being deprived of house parties and clubbing when you were all younger, "it does. Actually, I was quite envious of Atsumu and Osamu when we were younger. They both knew what they wanted -- well, until Osamu decided to quit and become a chef."

"What did you want to be when you were younger?"

"Me?" your lips curled into that same crooked smile that caught Kuroo's heart into a mid-spin every single frickin' time. He knows how to breathe, just forgets to whenever you're around, "I wanted to have my own cake shop. Got the diploma, never got round to actually doing anything about it."

"How did you end up in the event planning business?"

So you tell him. About one of your neighbours asking you if you could help decorate their son's first birthday party. You didn't have the heart to say no and from there onwards, your clientele grew over the months. At some point, you'd realised this job could make ends meet, all while giving you some flexibility around Sakura's schedule.

Your diploma was stuffed at the back of a drawer at some point, forgotten and useless. You'd never gotten around to framing it.

Now, you wished you had. It brings back a bitter wave of memories, ones that are tied to Aoi and that echo with pain whenever you think for too long.

"I could start all over again but--" you think of Sakura and her sweet, smiling face. The way the light would bounce over her eyes whenever she looks up at you full of trust and honest love, "I don't think I can. I'm a bit past my prime."

Kuroo shakes his head, "okay, hear me out but--right before all this PE coach thing came my way, I was actually just a waiter."

You blink, "huh?"

"Yeah. I quit the team a few years back right after I left university, and for someone with a degree in Education and with no experience, jobs are hard to find these days," Kuroo chuckles as he takes another swig of his drink, "so I had to find part-time work while I waited. It took a few years and well-- I landed my first job just a year ago. Quit when I realised the environment was shit, and then here I am now," he lifts his shoulders in a half-shrug, "what I mean is--I don't think there's ever any real timeline for anyone. You just--do the best you can, with what you have. And if you gotta start at thirty, then that's fine too."

The bittersweet smile that fills your face is enough to render him breathless, "thanks Kuroo," you murmur softly, "I'm not sure I'm as brave as you though."

"uh--No, you're managing a four-year old by yourself," he sends you a pointed look, "that in itself is an act of courage. Not everyone can do it, especially the way you do it."

Your cheeks flame, "you flatter me--"

"But I'm not," he interrupts gently. His hand lifts up, pushing a stray strand of hair from your face and your breath hitches when his touch seems to linger there for a beat longer than he's supposed to, "I actually really do think you're like one of the bravest people I've met."

"Stop it," now you're really embarrassed, hands coming up to hide your face.

Kuroo lets out a soft laugh, "I'm just telling the truth."

"Or you're just sweet-talking me."

"Okay maybe I am, but I'm not a liar," is it your imagination that makes you believe there's a little blush scattered along his cheeks? Maybe. But you tempt yourself into believing that's your effect on him.

Kuroo looks away, though he has a smile on his face as he toys with his beer, "so did it work?" he asks.

"What?" you finish the cocktail. The alcohol stings as it slides down your throat, before it warms you up from the inside.

"The sweet-talking," and he's back with that grin of his, dashingly courageous, dashingly cute and he knows it.

You whack him playfully along his shoulder, "you're an idiot."

Kuroo mutters something that might've not reached out ears if you weren't paying attention. But you swear that he says something along the lines of "only for you" which has you blushing down to the tips of your toes all over again.

It's past two in the morning when you manage to reach your flat, now a little tipsy from all the alcohol humming through your veins. You're both laughing about something -- something stupid -- when the door to your flat flies open to reveal a grinning Atsumu.

You straighten, though wobbling in your heels. Kuroo presses a hand to your back, grounding you.

"Hey 'tsumu," you say breathlessly, feeling heat sting your spine spreading from Kuroo's fingertips.

"Well someone's tipsy," Atsumu tips his head towards the raven-haired man, "hope you didn't do anything stupid--"

"Who do you take me for?" Kuroo retorts as he prods you towards the entrance.

"Yeah I know, just checkin'," your cousin eyes the proximity of your bodies, the way Kuroo stands almost protectively behind you, and something in his eyes softens, "alright then. I'll take my leave."

"What? This late? Why don't you stay over--"

"And what?" Atsumu raises a brow at you, "watch you both suck face? No thanks. By the way," his grin widens when you turn beetroot and Kuroo almost strangles himself with surprise, "Sakura's already asleep, so no matter what, don't go wakin' her."

"I'm so sorry," you whisper out to your date when your cousin's out of earshot and Kuroo's managed to manoeuvre you into the flat, "he's not usually that annoying--"

"I know," Kuroo's lips twitch in amusement at the way you worriedly look up at him, "what? What's gotten you looking like someone ran over your pet cat?"

You gasp, "that's not nice, Kuroo sensei!"

"Kuroo," he emphasises his name. One arm going up to press against the doorframe, he leans in towards you, "actually--you can call me Tetsurou."

"Tetsurou," your head cranes up to look at him and --wow, he's tall. And he smells good. Like boy perfume and something woody, something musky you can't quite place, "That's a nice name."

"Thanks," his words trail off, body unconsciously leaning towards you. it's only then you realise how close you are, chests almost touching, noses bare millimetres, his entire frame practically engulfing your tiny one.

He's so close that you can see the way light bounces off his orbs, or the small wrinkles at the corner of his eyes that deepen whenever he smiles.

Something in your chest tightens. You swallow thickly.

And that's when you feel it; his hand skimming your waist.

You let out a sharp breath at the same time that the young man pulls you to him. Gently.

Falling against him like a puppet, hands splay out to press against his shirt and heat permeates your skin and makes you sweat because--Kuroo is ripped. You can feel it, feel him, underneath your palms. He's built like stone and you wonder briefly what he must look like without them--

Oh god.

Your face flames and that doesn't go unnoticed by the raven-haired man. He grins wickedly, his other hand reaching out to cup your jaw so that you cannot look away.

"What?" his murmur is soft like melted chocolate. It makes you weak in the knees and you're glad he's holding you up against him, "what's with the face?"

"N--Nothing," you try to steady your racing heart, "uhm...you're..." he's unconsciously leaning in towards you, as if drawn like a moth to a flame, "...you're really close."

"Seems like it," he murmurs huskily.

"I--uhm--" you shake your head slightly, biting down onto your lower lip as your eyes flutter back up to his. You notice how his pupils have darkened with something else, something that makes your stomach knot deliciously, "Kuroo?"

"Hm?"

"I'm--" you try to scramble your thoughts together, but it's hard when he's so close and when he's looking at you like that, "I'm too old for you."

His body stills, "what?"

"I'm--" shame fills you up and you look away with embarrassment as you repeat, "I'm too old for you."

"Do you really think that you're too old for me?" Kuroo asks, "or is that just an excuse?"

"I have a daughter--"

"--It's only three years' difference--"

"--And you have your whole life ahead of you to figure out what you wa--"

"--I know exactly what I want--"

"I have responsibilities and I can't--"

"Can't what?" with one tug, you fall against him. You let out a sound of shock but Kuroo's hand is insistent as he presses your spine to his body, his palm splaying out and practically enveloping all of your back, "I have responsibilities too, Kosuke-san. And yet," his eyes seem to search yours for a minute, "I can't seem to stay away."

"Like I said," you're not quite sure whether he can even hear you, because your heart seems to be galloping so hard you feel it vibrate through your ears, "I'm too old for you, you should find someone of your own age, someone who's just as ambitious, with no strings attached to them--"

"I want you."

"--and like I said, I'm a mother," you're babbling now, "and I need to put Sakura first, no matter what. I'm sorry, I don't know why I decided to come out today. I shouldn't have, this is a mistake and--"

Kuroo's hand slips to your cheek. He tugs you up, and his lips land on yours.

You freeze.

Oh.

Oh shit.

Oh shit shit shit.

Shit.

This isn't happening.

This isn't supposed to happen!

And yet...it is.

His mouth parts slowly, sliding over yours in such a sweet way that you let out a restrained sound from the back of your throat. Gods, even his mouth is delicious. His hand sifts through your locks to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer by the waist as he kisses your next breath away. Your chest stutters and you all but melt into him, surprise and shock overrun by the sudden desire shooting through your veins.

Your hands, initially at his chest, make a grab for his shirt as your lips follow his in a dance that leaves your heart stuttering and has you gasping for breath. But still Kuroo doesn't relent. He kisses you again and again and again, mouth weaving between yours and teeth nipping at your lips like he knows exactly what you want. A soft whimper bubbles up your throat and he grunts in satisfaction, tugging your hair down and tilting your head back to ravage your lips like there's no tomorrow.

You part after what seems like forever, a small gasp falling from your lips. But Kuroo's slides against your jaw, "god Y/N," he groans out, nipping at the skin along your jawline before slowly pressing butterfly kisses along your neck. You jolt at the suddenness of the action, mouth parting as heat bubbles up in your lower stomach while the young man presses you even closer if that's possible so that you feel every single inch of him against you.

A surprised yelp echoes out of your throat when he finds a sweet spot at the junction between your neck and collarbone. Kuroo smirks against your skin, nipping the area gently with his teeth as your hands trickle up to entangle in his locks, grabbing at them and making him grunt.

The hand along your waist flutters up your spine like a caress and you fold like leaf with the softest whine. Kuroo moves up to claim your mouth once more, kissing the rest of your logic away until you forget why you're here in the first place.

It's not until he's pressing you up against the doorframe that reality crashes back into you. You push him away gently, so gently that your mouths part with a soft sound and as you gaze up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, your heart jumps at the way he's looking at you; desire and tenderness and affection and lust all mixed in together. His chest is heaving just as much as yours is, and when you bite down onto your lower lip the growl that rumbles through his chest makes you all weak in the knees.

"That mouth," he mutters, thumb unconsciously going up to trace your lower lip. He pulls it away from your teeth so that he can trace its outline.

And then he's back to kissing you like he never stopped.

You kiss back with just as much ardour, getting lost into him and for once not caring that all sense of logic and self-restraint are now gone, evicted by the pure selfish need to have him close, closer.

His hands are everywhere; on your hips, in your hair, tracing your abdomen and making you gasp with every searing, scalding touch of palms against skin. But you press closer still, your own hands roaming his back and feeling up all the muscles that tense under your touch.

Kuroo suddenly draws away so quickly that you can't help but whine and tug him closer.

He resists with a groan, nose brushing yours as he furrows his brows, "Kosuke-san, I really cannot."

"What?" you're half-way out of focus at this point, more interested in kissing the soft skin at his jaw.

Kuroo lets out a sound between a moan and a grunt, making your insides twist with desire as his hands find your hips to pull you away, "If we continue, I won't--I don't promise I'll be able to hold back so--" he breathes out raggedly, "for the sake of my own sanity, we--we need to stop."

"Oh," you blink. It takes a moment for the words to make sense. When they do, your eyes widen on their own accord and you push him away, embarrassment flooding through you, "I--Oh, I'm sorry--"

Kuroo drops a firm kiss onto your mouth, grunting in satisfaction when you make a surprised sound, "I told you," he murmurs against your lips, "to stop saying sorry. It's gonna be the death of me."

He finally draws away and pushes your stray strands away from your face, a force of habit, it seems. Your eyes flutter up to meet his, flushing at the gentleness lying in those beautiful pupils. Throughout your relationship with Aoi, you're not sure he's ever looked at you with as much intensity as Kuroo has for the past five minutes. It does something funny to your heart.

"Right," for someone who'd been previously so adamant on not making out with the said man, you're quite frazzled. Your hands are latching onto him like you're a baby koala and he's your tree trunk, and you slide them down to your sides like a shameful kid, "yeah, I--" but you quickly retract the apology in your mouth.

Kuroo grins crookedly, that smile sending your heart into spinning cartwheels, "I'll be off then," he murmurs. His hand smoothes over the back of your head affectionately, and he leans in to press a chaste kiss to your temple.

"How far away do you live?" you have to ask. You feel bad for making him drive all the way out here, it's practically morning at this point.

"Not far," Kuroo sends you a comforting smile, "don't worry, I'll text you when I reach--"

"Do you--" the words blurt out of your mouth before you can stop them, "--do you want to stay over?"

Kuroo blinks. His mouth parts. Closes. Parts again. And then, what seems like a blush litters his cheeks.

He shakes his head, "ah--I think that's a bad idea Kosuke-san--" he spares a glance at your lips, "--especially today."

"Oh," realisation dawns and you flush, "right. Okay. Okay then."

"Don't worry. We have all our time," he grins cheekily.

"I'm still too old for y--"

Kuroo interrupts you with a kiss, "enough of that," he murmurs, "or I'm gonna have to kiss you again."

"That sounds--" your nose brushes against his, "--promising."

"Don't tempt me," he presses one last kiss right above your eye, cups your face for an instant, before he turns away towards the corridor, "goodnight Kosuke-san."

"Goodnight Kuroo," your heart melts, "can you--can you text me when you're home?"

He sends you a grin over his shoulder, "I thought you said you were too old for me?"

"I am too old for you," your face is so red you feel like you could cook an egg on top of it.

"Nah, never," he winks and before you know it, he's gone.

Leaving you and your poor, stuttering heart.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Remembrance of Things Past: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, fearing for your life

Summary: Someone leaves an unmarked package by your door that sends you into a spiral of fear. Meanwhile, the team joins forces with Virginia police on a case Rossi was on decades earlier, one that he will have to go back into in order to figure out the one that's staring at him in the face.

Season Six Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"Remembrance of things past is not necessarily the remembrance of things as they were." - Marcel Proust

"I swear I'm not making it up," you say as you turn the coffee machine on. "I felt eyes on me last night. Like someone was watching me. Like someone was in my apartment. I don't know. Maybe I'm going crazy."

"Was anything missing from your apartment?" JJ asks over FaceTime.

"No."

"Maybe you just had a bad dream or something."

"Yeah, maybe." Spencer walks into the kitchen as he finishes tying his tie, and he walks over to the coffee maker. He looks at your phone propped up against the flour container and smiles when he sees JJ. "Hey, Spence."

"JJ! It's good to see you."

"I miss all of you."

"We miss you, too." Spencer pours himself a cup to go before kissing you briefly. "I'll see you at work, okay?"

"Okay," you nod.

Spencer loves to get to work early when he can while you like to take your time in the morning and enjoy it before heading out.

"So, this mysterious person... Is there any energy left behind?"

"No or none that I'm seeing."

"I thought you saw them all."

"No, not everyone. I barely notice Spencer's. I don't notice half the team's anymore. I guess the ones that I've gotten to know personally, I don't see anymore."

"Hmm, I'm sure it's nothing."

You grab the coffee pot and pour what's left into your thermos so you can take it to work even though you know Spencer will have a cup waiting for you on your desk.

"So, are you excited for your new job?" you grin.

"It's going to be new, that's for sure."

"You're going to do great. Seriously, you're really valuable."

"Thank you. Listen, I have to get Henry ready before my meeting with the Pentagon."

"Give Henry my love. Oh, and JJ?" She looks at you through the tiny iPhone screen. "I'm proud of you."

"I'm proud of you," she smiles back.

You two hang up and you finish getting ready for work. You grab your purse and open the front door but frown when you see a package sitting at your front door. Was this always here? When did it get here? Who dropped it off? Spencer would have noticed a package when he left so it had to have come after he left. Why didn't anyone knock on the door?

You set your purse and thermos on the small table near the door and pick up the box to inspect it. There is no label or anything on it indicating who it's for but curiosity gets the better of you. You only realize how stupid of you it is to pick up an unmarked box when you hear something click inside of it. Rhythmic and steady beeping comes from inside the box and your entire body is paralyzed in fear.

Someone sent you a bomb in a box and you're holding it. Any slight movement will cause it to go off, killing you and potentially everyone else in this building. You have both hands underneath the box so you can't lean over and grab your purse which has your phone in it.

"Siri!" you yell loud enough for your phone to hear. "Hey, Siri!"

No response comes from her. You must be too far for her to hear. You're forced to wait until someone comes to your rescue, and you let tears fall at the many possibilities this can have.

After making a cup of coffee for you, he expected you to be at your desk. Since you're not, he takes the cup to the briefing room, passing by JJ's empty office. He pauses by the door and sees Penelope already inside of it. This is the first day since JJ left and not everyone is ready to do this without her.

"I miss her, Penelope sighs.

"Me too."

Penelope removes the nameplate from the door and heads back to her cave while Spencer walks into the briefing room. He sets the coffee on the desk where your spot is and takes his seat. Derek and Emily walk into the room with Derek nose-deep in his phone. He chuckles at a text he gets and sits down.

"Is that Ellie again?" Emily asks.

"She texts me every morning on her way to school."

"How is she doing?"

"She's already got herself a bff named Jill, and she thinks she wants to play soccer."

"She's adjusting. That's good."

The rest of the team walks in to start the briefing, and Hotch looks at your empty seat. Rossi isn't here since he is on vacation.

"Where's Y/N?"

"She should have been here by now," Spencer frowns. "Probably morning traffic. She'll be here shortly."

"Alright, we can't wait for her. Let's get started." Hotch hands out files to everyone. "The body of twenty-five-year-old Jenny Delilly was found yesterday in Bristol, Virginia. She had been tortured, sodomized, and electrocuted before being forced to make a goodbye call to her parents. Her body was then dumped off Elden Street. A week ago, the body of Kara Kirkland was found in the same area having suffered identical injuries."

"This reminds me of the Butcher case," Derek says.

"Why does that name sound familiar to me?"

"The Butcher was a sexual sadist who killed twenty women in the same area of Virginia from 1984 to 1993 and then vanished. He tortured blond women in their twenties who lived in or near Bristol."

"That was one of Rossi's old cases, wasn't it?" Emily asks.

"Yes."

"Does he know?" Rossi walks into the briefing room holding an opened box in his hands. "Some vacation. Did you get any sun?"

"I never got any anything."

"Do you think the Butcher's back?"

"I doubt it. We profiled him as a white male in his late forties back then. He'd be in his seventies by now."

"Didn't you almost catch him?"

"In the spring of '93, we narrowed the geographical profile. We alerted every blonde in their mid-twenties in Bristol and the surrounding counties. The pressure got so intense that the killings just stopped," Rossi sighs.

"Well, the Copelands killed into their seventies. This could be him coming back," Spencer suggests.

"It's probably a copycat. If he's emulating the Butcher, he could just be getting started. Alright, let's go over victimology."

"Both Jenny Delilly and Kara Kirkman were single professional women. Jenny had just gotten a job as a web designer, and Kara worked for a nonprofit. Each woman was taken from a populated area with no witnesses. Jenny from a crowded drugstore parking lot and Kara from the back patio of a ground-floor apartment when her roommate went inside to answer the phone."

"Why not take the roommate?" Derek asks.

"She's brunette. He prefers blondes."

"These vics were forced to make phone calls. Jenny left a message and Kara spoke with her fiancé."

"Garcia, were you able to trace the calls?" Hotch asks.

"My pretties, they're using disposable cells so I'm coming up empty."

"We do have a timeline, though. According to the ME's report, both victims were dead for about three hours before they were found which means based on the times of their messages, they endured five additional hours of torture after making their goodbye calls."

"It wasn't enough that he caused his victims pain and suffering, it extended to their parents as well?" Spencer wonders. "Rossi, were the phone calls the Butcher made his victims leave similar?"

"Yeah, but the content varied. Thirteen vics left answering machine messages for loved ones, five actually talked to someone before they died, and two reached no one."

"Didn't the Butcher make his victims end their messages by saying they were enjoying it?"

"That was his signature."

"Wouldn't that make a sadist flaccid?" Derek asks.

"It wasn't about him. It was about the parents. He wanted to make sure that they knew he had complete control and dominance over their daughters," Rossi shrugs.

"Alright, Morgan and Prentiss, go to the ME. We need to compare the ritual and MO. Rossi, Reid, and I will interview the families and go over the messages. Reid, where's Y/N?"

Spencer frowns at your absence and takes out his phone to call you. It rings six times before going to voicemail, and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He tries you once more but the same thing happens again.

"Something's wrong. I need to go home. We'll drive up together once I figure out what's going on. It's only a thirty-minute drive to Bristow."

"Okay. Keep me informed."

Spencer is out of his seat before Hotch can finish speaking. Spencer races home and practically sprints up the stairs to your apartment.

"Y/N?" he calls out.

"Spencer," you cry. He steps off the top stair and pauses when he sees the brown box in your hands. You're trying hard not to shake and sweat is rolling down your forehead. "Don't come near me."

"What's going on?"

"I think this is a bomb. There's something ticking in here."

Spencer's eyes widen in concern. "Don't move. I'll call it in." He takes out his phone and calls the head of the bomb squad. Yes, he's been in enough situations to have him in his contacts. He quickly explains the situation to the man who says he'd be right over with his team. He dials Hotch next and keeps a close eye on you. "Hotch, we have a problem."

"Is Y/N okay?"

"She thinks someone sent a bomb to our house. She's standing in the doorway holding a brown box terrified. I don't know much more about it but I'll let you know when I do."

"Is the bomb squad on the way?" Rossi asks.

They must be in the car and the call went through Bluetooth.

"Yeah."

"Should we turn around?"

"No, you keep working the case. I'll be right here with her. As long as she doesn't move, she'll be fine."

"Please be careful and call when you know more."

"Of course." Spencer hangs up and looks at you. "It's going to be okay, Y/N. You're going to be okay. The bomb squad is on the way. Just try not to move."

"I'll try," you cry, trying to keep yourself from shaking.

The whole team is worried about you and Spencer but they have a job to do. They get to Bristow and meet with Detective Green who is eager for their arrival.

"This isn't the Butcher, believe me. Unless the Butcher is Jack Lalanne, this is a younger copycat."

"We need a room with a whiteboard, a window, and six chairs," Rossi says. "The bodies were left in the exact same location."

"Everybody knew the details of this case. The paper even printed part of the answering machine messages. It's a copycat."

"Have you been able to step up police presence on Elden Street?" Hotch asks.

"It's a seven-mile stretch that runs through the city. I've done what I could considering our budget."

"Are detectives Clemmons, Benton, and Gallagher still here? They worked on the first case," Rossi says.

"Clemmons and Benton both died two years ago. Gallagher retired from the force when his wife was killed at the Pentagon on 9/11."

"So, you're the lead detective on this?"

"Unfortunately. Look, the families of the victims should be here any minute. If there's anything I can do to help you guys, let me know."

"Thank you."

Both victims were assaulted with an electrified object based on the burn wounds that could have been by a curling iron, poker, or some other object. Both also have lacerations on their bodies with slight ones near the throat and deep ones on the chest. Whoever did this used multiple knives. The unsub was creative. There are also contusions on the backs of their heads likely sustained during the abduction.

It's a slightly different approach than the Butcher's abductions. Based on Rossi's profile, the Butcher was a smooth-talker who lured his victims without initial physical force. Clearly, this unsub doesn't have the same confidence or finesse. He's sloppy.

Derek and Emily head to the place where Jenny was taken and watch the security footage to understand what might have happened.

"Alright, this is right where she parked her car," Derek points to the empty parking spot, "and then she rushed in there to get a prescription. Then, she comes back to her car and somebody gets her attention."

"They call out to her. She throws her stuff in the trunk and runs off that way," Emily points, "and that's when we lose her. So, how do you snatch someone from here? Push her into a car?"

"It's way too crowded, but there is a blind spot right there. There's enough of an obstruction here to park your car, blitz her from behind, and then push her into the vehicle. Could you do that alone?" Derek asks.

"I doubt it. Two people would explain how the first victim was abducted so quickly from the patio when her roommate went in to get the phone."

"It would also shed light on the ME's findings. There wasn't one unsub with two knives, it was two unsubs with their own weapons."

Derek turns off the iPad and looks around the parking lot with a sigh.

"I'm worried about Y/N."

"Me too." Emily takes out her phone and calls Spencer. "Hey, Reid, is there an update?"

"The bomb squad is here and they evacuated everyone out of the building including me. I hate waiting knowing she's up in there terrified out of her mind."

"She's going to be okay. You have to believe that."

"Yeah, I know," he sighs.

"Keep us informed."

Spencer looks up at the building in wonder and wishes you're doing okay.

x

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I think it's clear Lion Guy has climbed AT LEAST to the top #2 on your fav twst characters list..... but do you think he'll ever surpass J word?? lately you've been rambling a lot abt Leona but tbh it's obvious you rlly rlly love Jade too from all the posts I've read abt your feelings towards him (which have helped me understand and appreciate him more, too!)

sorry if it's smth weird to ask btw, I know feelings/thoughts abt fictional characters sometimes can be pretty personal- so feel free to ignore this 🙇

For your reference, here is my personal Twst tier list ^^ It’s up to date as of the recent book 7 part 12 update. (And to be clear, the characters placed in the same tier are in no particular order; just because Silver is first in the "tolerate" tier doesn't mean I like him any more or less than Deuce, who is next in the row.)

If you’d like more specifics on why I do or don’t like a particular character, please check out my FAQ in the pinned post or look at #character opinion bingo. If the character you’d like me to elaborate on isn’t addressed there, then you may send in an ask about it.

Please remember to be respectful when discussing character preferences; do not attempt to convince others to change their minds or imply/tell them that they are “wrong” for feeling a certain way about a character.

I don’t mind the question! This blog’s a place for me to express myself (whether creatively or critically/more analytically) and to share my opinions on certain aspects of Twst ^^

I don't really think to put specific numbers on characters most of the time because I personally get really anxious about rankings 🤡 According to the same friends that said all of this though, they basically agree that L*ona is pretty much second place or that L*ona has already surpassed J word. A particular friend likes to joke that “it’s Leover”, and another one says, “it’s like Raven divorced J word for L*ona”. And honestly 💦💦 if I'm being 100% truthful, I'm a little scared myself that some cat boy I disliked back in 2020 will shoot right up to the very top 💀 When I think about that... OOooOoOooooOOOGH, IT REALLY GRINDS MY GEARS BECAUSE HE'D BE SO ANNOYING AND SMUG ABOUT WINNING FOR ONCE. Finally clawing his way up from rock bottom... past second place (where he was perpetually trapped for most of his life; second place to his older brother, second place to that lizard, second place to eel)... to snatch the crown from the jaws of defeat... 💢 (You can't see it, but I'm pounding the wall with my fists--)

BUT IT'S OKAY, IT'S OKAY GUYS (<- huffing copium) IT'S JUST THE CONTENT RELEASE BIAS... Like, L*ona has gotten SO much more focus recently that it might be a little unfair to compare the two right now??? He got that Nightmare Suit SSR and played an important role in the Halloween event, then immediately got his time to shine in his book 7 dream, on top of us being forced to go through all five Heartslabyul dreams with him. That's not even mentioning the fact that the Episode of Savanaclaw manga is hyping us up for his OB reveal in January, or his hometown event rerun that's currently going on in the JP server. I keep telling myself that as soon as J word gets a new exciting SSR or story content that I'll swing right back around to him 😭 He hasn't gotten anything substantial lately... And let's be honest here, L*ona has a complete advantage no matter what the situation is for J word simply because L*ona is a dorm leader and an OB boy. There will always be more attention and detail showered upon him and his development over J word's OTL There's just... more L*ona lore to chew on. The other part of it is a large chunk of what I discuss on this blog comes from interactions with my readers. If readers submit more asks about L*ona, then I'll naturally talk about him more. Pair this with the guarantee that he's getting more screen time because of the remaining Heartslabyul dreams, and it becomes constant lion reinforcement.

sdfhladiyofyfaey8gFP9MGEEGA ANyWAY, sorry if that didn't quite answer your question... I didn't want to give a definitive response because I can't really tell what will happen in the future but hey, you guys wouldn't think any less of me if something happens, right 🤡

[emsroselover]

A Fan Edit

𝘏𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦... 𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰 𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘰𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘌𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙉𝙤𝙣𝙚 (𝙄 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙛 𝙞 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙖𝙙𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙮)

It was a typical afternoon at the Sturniolo house. You have just returned from a long photo shoot, your makeup still fresh on and your hair styled perfectly, though your energy was starting to drip after hours on set. You had a few minutes before you needed to wind down, so you decided to pop in and say hello to Chris, Matt and, Nick

As you stepped through the front door, you heard the familiar hum of cameras and the sound of Chris's voice-low but excited, clearly in the middle of filming. You smiled to yourself as you took off your shoes and made your way down the hallway toward the living room.

The door was slightly ajar, and you could see the trio sitting in front of the camera. Matt was holding a microphone, Nick was fiddling with the equipment, and Chris was sitting comfortably in the middle of the couch, eyes focused on the screen in front of him. The title of the video they were filming flashed across the screen: "Reacting to Fan Edits."

You pushed the door open just as Chris looked up, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. "Hey, babe!" he greeted you with a big grin, though he quickly tried to turn his attention back to the screen as Matt gave him a playful nudge.

"Did you just say 'Hey, babe' on camera?" Matt teased, his eyebrow raised as he looked at his twin. "You know Nick ain't editing that out, right?"

Chris rolled his eyes but chuckled. "Shut up, dude, I don't care."

You laughed and waved at them. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I just got back from my shoot," you explained, tossing your bag onto the couch beside Chris. "What are you guys filming today?"

Nick quickly responded, already looking back at the screen. "We're reacting to some fan edits. You know, the usual. It's actually pretty funny."

You nodded, settling onto the arm of the couch beside Chris. "Sounds fun. What's the first one?"

Chris leaned forward, and you could see the screen where a fan-made video was loading. He glanced at you and winked. "Oh, trust me, you'll love this one. It's a wild edit of my old video."

The video played, and your curiosity piqued as the fan edit began. It was a simple clip of Chris from a past video, where he said, "I'm always ready when you want me," his voice casual and unassuming. But the fan edit had taken it out of context, paired with dramatic music and flashy text, which gave the sentence an entirely different meaning.

The screen read, "Chris, always ready for anything." The music was intense, and the text blinked on screen like some kind of seductive ad, turning the innocent comment into something far more suggestive than Chris ever intended.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter, and Chris, seeing your reaction, immediately turned a deep shade of red. "Oh my god," he groaned, burying his face in his hands. "That was not the vibe I was going for!"

Matt snickered, his eyes glinting with

mischief. "Well, you didn't exactly help yourself there, Chris. I mean, it kind of sounds like you were asking for it."

Nick joined in, his laughter matching Matt's. "Yeah, man, I'm always ready when you want me? You're practically begging for that kind of edit."

You shook your head, still giggling at how the video had been so expertly altered. "I mean, to be fair, Chris," you said, looking at him with a teasing smile, "You weren't exactly wrong. You are always ready when I need you, aren't you?"

Chris turned to you, his cheeks flushed but his eyes twinkling with a mix of embarrassment and affection. "Oh, come on, Y/N. You're making this worse," he whined, though there was no real heat behind it.

You leaned closer, nudging him with your shoulder. "What? It's true! You're always there for me when I need you." You winked playfully, feeling a little mischievous yourself.

Chris shook his head in disbelief, his hand covering his face as he groaned dramatically. "I can't believe you're encouraging them," he muttered under his breath, though he was smiling despite himself. "I was just talking about being prepared for whatever, like… my videos, or whatever. But now look what's happening."

Matt laughed, reaching over and ruffling

Chris's hair. "You're never going to live this one down, bro."

Nick chimed in, "Yeah, the fans are going to have a field day with this one. I bet that edit is already trending."

Chris threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright! I get it, okay? I messed up, and now I'll never live it down." He turned to you, his eyes softening. "But seriously, babe, you're always the one making me look good. So if they want to think I'm being all… that guy, whatever. You know me."

You smiled warmly, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. "I'm just here for you, no matter how embarrassing the edits get," you teased.

The moment you kissed him, Matt and Nick groaned in unison, pretending to gag. "You two are gross," Matt said dramatically. "But I guess that's what we get for having a couple on our channel."

Chris rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the smile on his face. "Shut up, guys. It's cute. And I'm not taking it back."

As the video continued, you stayed by Chris's side, teasing him every chance you got.

Later that week that video was still blowing up with comments. They were full of laughing emojis and playful suggestions.

Sturn.Chris: “Omg, Chris is always ready 😏” Pedals.Sturn: Did anyone else catch that? Lmao 🤣” Y/n's.wife: “Y/N, you’re not wrong though. He is always ready for you.”

Chris could only shake his head. "I'm done. Y/N, I'm going to blame you for all this," he muttered, still grinning as he read more comments filled with more playful comments.

But he didn't mind. The truth was, no matter how embarrassing the edits got, he'd never be anything but himself with you-and that's exactly why he loved you.

[fanfictionstuff]

Gingerbread Houses

Amaimon x Reader

I promise I'm working on the Rin and Mephisto fics.

SFW but NSFW is implied a couple times.

This is going to be 1/? I wanted to write something cute with Amaimon and Reader for Christmas. So, I have a couple ideas, and if you want to suggest something, feel free.

I don't know if you've seen Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964), but it is mentioned. If you haven't seen it, a quick Google search of the name and add the year you can see the animation style.

I can't wait for Sunday! He was so cute last week; I just wanted to hug him. This is the wallpaper for my computer and phone lmao

Sitting in class, you can hardly contain your excitement as you eagerly await your boyfriend's arrival. Just last night, the realization hit you like a bolt of lightning: Christmas is just a week away! After a quick moment of panic about finding the perfect gift for Amaimon, you remembered one crucial thing—he’s never truly experienced a modern Christmas here in Assiah.

The door swings open, and in strides the demon king himself. Your excitement bubbles over as you leap to your feet, rushing towards him with outstretched arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, your heart racing with joy. "Do you know what next week is?” you exclaim, a wide grin spreading across your face, unable to contain your thrill any longer.

“Winter break?”

“No, well, yes, next week is Christmas!”

Amaimon nods as he places his hands on your hips. Christmas decorations have been popping up all over town for the past few weeks, making them hard to overlook. Mephisto also mentioned that Amaimon needed to find a gift for you earlier this morning.

“So, do you have plans?” You question him.

“My plans always revolve around you," he replies flatly. Ever since Mephisto granted Amaimon a taste of freedom, you’ve somehow woven a spell that ensnares the demon king. But oddly enough, he doesn't seem bothered by it at all.

You nod enthusiastically, a smile spreading across your face. “I was thinking we could make gingerbread men and houses tonight?” As the words spill out, you reach into your pocket with your right hand, your left arm comfortably wrapping around Amaimon. “Look,” you eagerly turn your phone toward Amaimon, showcasing a vibrant Google image search filled with enchanting gingerbread houses is displayed. “I found a recipe that’s perfect for making gingerbread houses!"

Amaimon stares silently at the screen, absorbing the assortment of miniature, edible homes before him. A slight crease forms on his forehead, revealing that he's lost in thought, perhaps even a bit perplexed. He reaches into his pocket with his free hand, pulls out a piece of candy, and pops it into his mouth. His sharp gaze shifts from the phone back to you before he ultimately decides to speak. 

"Why? It seems pointless," he asks, tilting his head curiously to the side. His tone is not mocking or dismissive; instead, it conveys genuine curiosity. 

You respond with an amused glance before quickly explaining, "It's a tradition for some people during Christmas to create and decorate gingerbread houses. They're fun to build, and you get to eat them afterward." You gesture toward the images on your phone again, smiling at the thought of making one with Amaimon. 

He hums in response, seeming content with your explanation yet still looking a bit baffled. "I saw that in a shop; we could just buy one," he drawls lazily, searching for loopholes in this tradition you've drawn him into. 

"Yes, but making it ourselves is part of the fun," you counter, firmly tightening your hold on him. Now that the idea of making gingerbread houses together is on the table, you can't imagine spending the weekend any other way. Seeing your unwavering resolve, he simply shrugs and presses his lips to yours. “Okay.”

As soon as school lets out, you nearly drag Amaimon off the school grounds, your excitement bubbling over, making it difficult to contain yourself. Realizing that you don’t have most of the ingredients you need, you lead Amaimon to a grocery store not far from your apartment. His curiosity, combined with a hint of skepticism, causes you to chuckle every now and then.

Although Amaimon may not fully understand your excitement, he can’t help but enjoy observing your enthusiasm. He often wonders how humans find joy in such ordinary activities.

As you begin shopping for the ingredients, Amaimon wanders around the store, casually holding the basket. He occasionally adds snacks that catch his eye, mostly sweets and junk food. It seems he is more interested in the edible aspect of the project than in the building process itself. 

After gathering all the necessary ingredients—flour, baking powder, ginger, cinnamon, molasses, brown sugar, butter, and eggs—you lead Amaimon to the checkout counter. As you wait in line, he curiously examines the vibrant Christmas decorations near the register and, without much thought, adds a box of candy canes to the basket. 

"Are we going to use these also?" He asks, sounding perhaps just a smidgen interested. 

"Well," you say, glancing at the candy canes before redirecting your gaze back to Amaimon with a slight smile. "They’re often used to decorate gingerbread houses. We could insert them like little poles or something similar." 

Amaimon raises an eyebrow, contemplating this new information briefly before dismissing it with a casual shrug. He doesn't understand why people invest so much effort into such a fleeting celebration, but if it makes you happy, he supposes he could tolerate this strange human tradition. 

As you finish paying for the groceries and step outside, Amaimon casually slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. His fingers idly play with your hair as he considers what you’ve persuaded him to join in on. He pops a lollipop into his mouth, then grabs the bag of groceries. You raise an eyebrow at him, but seeing him enjoy the candy makes you smile. “Amaimon?” 

“Yes?” 

“I love you.” 

Amaimon hums softly in response, his lips curling into a subtle smirk as his burgundy nails playfully tug at your hair. 

"Me too," he mumbles, the words muffled by the stick of candy he's lazily rolling in his mouth. There's an unmistakable ease in his voice as he speaks. No blushing, no stuttering, no overly dramatic declarations—just a simple, nonchalant confession that feels entirely natural coming from him, as though he were merely sharing an everyday fact rather than unveiling an emotion that poets have written sonnets about.

As soon as you stepped into the apartment, Amaimon set the bag of groceries down on the kitchen counter with a satisfied thud. You stepped into the kitchen, excitement bubbling up as you skillfully gathered the bowls needed for the task ahead. “This recipe says the dough needs to chill,” you explain with a grin. “Since tomorrow is Saturday, we can make the dough tonight, and then tomorrow, we can bake and assemble the houses. You’re spending the night, right?”

With these words, you cast a sideways glance at Amaimon, eyebrow raised in anticipation of his response. Amaimon made a show of considering your question before answering. “Yeah, but I wasn’t planning on us getting much sleep.” He gives you a knowing look. 

With a playful smack on his arm, you chuckle at his less than innocent implications. "You should learn to control yourself, demon king," you tease. 

"It’s difficult when my queen is present," Amaimon replies with evident amusement, popping another candy into his mouth. He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist as he attentively reviews the recipe on your phone. As he glances through its contents, a contemplative expression crosses his face, as if he’s genuinely contemplating the instructions. 

You gently pull away from his hold to gather the ingredients. You direct Amaimon throughout the process though he rather quickly gets the gist of it. 

“Here, you mix the dry ingredients while I prepare the wet ones.” You slide the dry ingredients to the end of the bar, gently guiding your touchy demon king towards the ingredients. 

With his eyes still fixed on the recipe, Amaimon casually reaches for the bowl of dry ingredients and starts to stir. In line with your earlier instruction, he maintains a careful watch over his work, breaking from his usual carefree approach to most activities. Watching this unfold causes your heart to swell—you're certain this is a moment you'll cherish for years to come. 

You carefully measure out your wet ingredients, ensuring you have just enough for a large batch of cookies. However, as you go to set the jar of molasses down on the counter, your grip falters, and it slips from your hands, shattering on impact. Molasses and shards of glass scatter across the kitchen floor. You glance at your hands, then at the broken glass, and finally at Amaimon. You want to avoid cutting yourself on the sharp fragments, but the sticky mess makes it difficult to see clearly. 

Without missing a beat or uttering a word, Amaimon kneels down on one knee, carefully picking up the shards of glass. He’s fast, unfazed by the potential danger of the shards cutting into his skin. 

“Did it break into a lot of tiny pieces?” It’s nearly impossible for you to tell from your position. 

Amaimon shakes his head as he stands with a handful of broken glass, “No, it’s fine now.”

You nod and quickly dampen a cloth before bending down to try to clean up the molasses. It’s not easy; it’s thick and sticky. Clean-up takes a lot longer than you would’ve liked. “Well, this will make for a fun story to share with our future kids about our first Christmas together, spending half an hour cleaning up molasses," you joke.

“Tell our future kids how clumsy you are?” Amaimon questions, a memory of you dropping another item a few days ago crosses his mind. You claim you’re not clumsy but just a month with you has hinted otherwise. 

“It has only happened twice before; the second time was because you were making me laugh.” You had been holding something fragile when Amaimon discovered that you were ticklish and found your reaction interesting. 

Amaimon raises an eyebrow and pointedly glances at your knees, aware of the bruise on your left knee, but you didn’t see the ice when you were walking up the steps. “Whatever, just mix everything now. Let’s get it done and wrapped up. We can roll it out tomorrow morning.” With the demon king and his annoying sleep schedule, sleeping in on weekends is no longer an option for you. He wakes you up in the mornings when he starts to get bored. You’ve established a rule that he has to wait until sunrise. 

Once the cookie dough is put away, you try to think about what to do next. “Next year, I’ll have to get a Christmas tree.” You sigh, feeling a bit disappointed in yourself for not considering getting one this year. “Let’s watch Christmas movies.” 

Amaimon winces at the high-pitched sound coming from the TV. You’re watching the 1964 classic, "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," and, for some reason, when Rudolph's nose lights up, a jarring noise disrupts the scene. He turns to you with an unimpressed expression, clearly not a fan. The movie not only seems strange to him, but the animation is awful. “You like this?” 

Do you like it? Who knows—it’s a classic, and not watching it just seems strange. However, considering how Amaimon is looking at you, you feel he won’t agree with the other older movies. “It’s nostalgic..." 

The demon king shows no interest, but fortunately for him, he knows how to draw your focus to him and him alone. That’s how you find yourself pressed against the sofa, his warm lips on yours.

As always, his kisses are full of a boldness that sends warmth curling down to your toes. And, as always, you reciprocate with just as much fervor.

Amaimon pulls away first, just enough for you to catch your breath. His golden eyes shine intensely in the dim light of the room, still holding that same playful spark. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear—words woven with tender adoration and veiled promises. The sensation of his voice dancing across your skin sends shivers down your spine, leaving you yearning for more.

"Let's call it a night," Amaimon purrs, yet there’s an invitation in those simple words that implies sleep isn’t his intention at all.

“______, wake up.” You groan as Amaimon softly nibbles on your ear, coaxing you to rise. His arms encircle your waist, and his tail lightly caresses your thigh. “What time is it?” 

“Does it really matter?” he whispers, planting gentle kisses over the bite marks he left the night before. “We’re supposed to bake the cookies today.” 

“Amaimon, what time is it.”

“Just after six.”

You groan in annoyance at being awoken so early. "Couldn’t you wait at least another hour before waking me up?” Feeling Amaimon shake his head in disagreement, he replies, "I’ve been watching you sleep for hours now." You can’t help but comment, "You know that’s a bit creepy, right?”

He shrugs. “I took some pictures, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I had to remove the blankets, but that’s okay, right?”

You jump up at that, holding the blanket to your chest, and glare down at him. “I’m naked.”

“I know.”

“Amaimon, did you really take photos.”

“No, but you’re awake now.”

Amaimon reaches out to tug the blanket away from you. You let out a startled yelp, yanking it back protectively. “You can be such an asshole sometimes.” However, your indignant tone only seems to amuse him further.

Your scowl deepens as you glare at the demon king lounging lazily across the bed, a mischievous grin stretching across his face. The urge to punch him is overwhelming, but you know better than to provoke Amaimon. Engaging him would be a battle you’re destined to lose before it even begins.

With a defeated sigh, you slump back on the bed, pulling the blankets snugly up to your chin. "Fine," you mumble, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You grumble under your breath as you roll out of bed and reach for a nearby robe. It's far too early for this level of mischief from Amaimon, but fortunately for him, you’re also easily tempted by sweet treats. “You’re lucky I love you.” From the corner of your eye, you can see Amaimon nodding in agreement,

“Let’s get started then; grab the baking sheets, and I’ll get the cookie cutters and dough.” Once everything is set up, you stare at the dough; you know how to make gingerbread men and women. That’s what the cookie cutters are for. But what about the houses? Do you simply cook a sheet pan of cookie dough and then cut it out? Or should you cut out the houses first and then bake them? After contemplating for a moment, you decide to do both. 

The process is quick and seamless, and you can't help but feel impressed by how swiftly everything gets done. However, as you place the cookies on the rack to cool, something catches your attention. “What are you doing?!" You notice that Amaimon, who was supposed to be placing the cookies meant for the house on the rack, has instead managed to make half of them disappear. "Eating cookies," he replies casually.

“How are we supposed to make gingerbread houses when you are eating the cookies that build the houses?”

“Oh.” 

You narrow your eyes and walk toward the cabinets holding the ingredients to make more cookie dough. “While these cool, you can prepare another batch of dough.” As soon as all the necessary ingredients are laid out in front of him, you hand him the phone with the recipe.

As he concentrates on his task, you seize his phone from the counter and unlock it, checking to ensure that the idiot didn’t take a photo of you. Your eyebrows lift in surprise as you discover his gallery filled with pictures of you luckily, you’re fully clothed in all of them. “Did you seriously have to use this photo of me as your wallpaper?” 

“I like it.” 

It’s a photo of you, eyes wide and looking embarrassed. He had whispered something to you just before taking the picture. 

“It’s the face you make before we-“ 

“Focus on the cookie dough!” You snap, cutting him off. “Wait, are you seriously eating the cookie dough now? Amaimon, why don’t you eat some candy?” 

Instead of answering, Amaimon retrieves the wrap to cover the cookie dough and places it in the fridge. “Amaimon, why aren’t you eating the candy we bought?” You question, stepping closer to the demon king.

“It’s gone.” 

“…all of it?” 

“Yes.” 

“Some of that was for the gingerbread men and houses!” 

“Sorry.” 

[tiredqueermushroom]

Thanks for the tag <3!

Tagged by: @annemarieyeretzian

Last song: I want you back by Infinity Song a black indie band, yall should give them a listen!

Favourite colour: Purple any and all shades and sage green because I'm a basic queer.

Last book: Currently reading Song of Achilles, only 10 chapters in and loving it so far (and no, it hasn't been months since I last picked it back up. Why's you ask?/j)

Last movie: Monkey Man starring and directed by Dev Patel! Great revenge movie that has the mc fighting alongside sword wielding trans women to fight religious corruption. And I Saw the TV Glow, yes I watched these back to back. I was having a day. Amazing trans movie that left me starring at my screen in silence for 10 minutes after 10/10 would recommend.

Last TV: 911 on abc! And before you ask, yes, the character that has religious trauma is stuck deep in the closet, and fundamental believes he is undeserving of joy aka Eddie Diaz is my favourite <3

Sweet/spicy/savoury: Spicy all the way, baby! My mum says my love of spice came from her eating a ton of spicy foods while she was pregnant with me. How true that is idk but I sure do believe it. Then I would have to have sweet and savoury joint second place. They compliment each other so well I couldn't possibly separate them.

Relationship status: Single and not ready to mingle! My irl friends forefill me in ways a romantic partner couldn't.

Last thing I googled: Infinity Nikki Guides. Definitely play Infinity nikki if gachas, open-world/ platformers are your thing. Very girly, cutesy, cosy game.

Current obsession: Ball jointed dolls (BJDs)! I recently just ordered an imomodoll, I have no idea how to style my boy, but I'm glad I have him and I'm really excited to explore the bjd community further!

Looking forward to: Clique, I know, but Christmas! There's gonna be good food, good music, and even better, the new Wallace and Gromit movie drops as well as The Ithica Saga!

ten fifteen people I’d like to know better!

tagged by: @septembermonologues 🖤

last song: GONE by NF and julia michaels (which like,,, fucking ow?)

favorite color: aquamarine bc I’m a self-centered march aries bitch look ok it used to be yellow but then we were all asked to wear yellow to my mentor’s/father figure’s funeral and I’ve mostly hated it since,

last book: currently reading who cooked the last supper? which I have complex feelings about (it was first published 25ish years ago and is too often white feminist) but I am overall mostly learning things I think

last movie: white christmas (my college roommate katie and I watch movies together every monday and this month is, obviously, our christmas movies month) which incidentally is one of my favorite movies christmas or not

last tv show: the 10th kingdom AND LIKE. LOOK. my aunt and uncle let me stay up too late and watch this when I was way too young and I have been searching for the miniseries ever since. I was finally able to identify it earlier this month and immediately watched it twice. it’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen. I love it. I wish there were two hundred episodes.

sweet/spicy/savory: is this like a I have to pick one of the three, or one for each, or. u know what because of the ocd™ I’ll put them in my preferred order. sweet > savory > spicy easy.

relationship status: hey remember the ‘it’s complicated’ option on facebook

last thing I googled: the black heart emoji so I could copy and paste it for my baby sib up there

current obsession: is it cheating to say art history??? kinda always my current obsession. if I have to pick something I’m not constantly preoccupied by then thistle & spire lingerie currently has me in a chokehold and it’s Not good for my bank account (but it’s great for my self-esteem so who’s the real loser here) (it’s still me)

looking forward to: gonna get burgers and fries and then go to christmas in the park and then head to a cute bar for holiday drinks with my bff on friday!!! (babes the drink I want comes in a plastic dinosaur. ‘TIS THE SEASON)

no pressure tagging: @alliekitaguchi @beauregardlionett @daelenn @endofthelinecaptain @fairymonk @fjorests-of-wildemount @genderless-ghost @gobliiine @ittybittyremy @littlebosslady7 @quipxotic @revvethasmythh @simonthesneasnake @tiredqueermushroom @twinklestarss

this was/is def supposed to be tag ten people but! my blog my rules and I’m nosy as shit I love getting to know people so

[renegadesstuff]

THEY ARE COMING BACK ON FEBRUARY 5TH 🥹🤍

[ahollowgrave]

-- boltrise.

[loisfreakinglane]

the cangel crumbs i got in buffy season 2 just made me more in love with them than i've been in a long time. LOOK AT THOSE TWO. THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW THEY'RE GONNA BE BEST FRIENDS THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW THEY'RE GONNA FALL IN LOVE THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW THEY'RE GONNA CHANGE EACH OTHERS LIVES FOR THE BETTER

[mymarifae]

completing the 2.2 trailblaze mission gives you new daily text messages from aventurine if you have him.. 🥹 so you're Not just left with his scheduled post-suicide-attempt farewells. and it's a really nice conversation too. he plays it off like a game buuuut he loses on purpose every time so really he's just opening up of his own volition

(i'm still alive, and i'm happy about that 🥹 his conversation with acheron really left a profound impact on him oh my godddd)

aventurine... of all people... reaching out and talking so honestly about what happened and how it affected him... and seeing a therapist of sorts (bit of an oversimplification but that's basically what the doctors of chaos do so like). sometimes all you need to start learning how to value your life again is to uhh ..literally get cut in half

[sherrymagic]

waiting to finally watch ChanyaAya acting together on my screen & giffing every second of ViMook like

[kuiinncedes]

:P

[statementlou]

x

[inkykeiji]

omg a chat app game sounds so cool !! im vv excited 🙈

thank you anon!!! i am super duper excited to share it with u!!! <33 the beta i’m gonna give u guys is only one route with two ending variations based on your individual choices but the full conversations (which will be subscription based; $7 a month most likely) will have several routes n endings c: the endings are a small piece of prose detailing what happens. i just want to give u all a taste of it and get some feedback before i move forward, see how much interest there is and let everyone try it before i keep working on it.