#but now she is demanding it to throw away all old stuff and go on

[brunossan]

I watched Lily orchard/CD-Call New video

And i will not give much bigger spoilers so i will just leave this here to you to give your opinions about

In a resume, at a small part of the vídeo, Lily puppet slaps Pixie and screams at her for calling the number of 13 episodes a season. Its a very uncomfortable scene with no music and nothing, just violence.

Maybe just me but this still makes me trembles a bit. Just... Made me think about bad stuff.

This was literally my reaction:

[calypso-rt]

this is my first req ever but im obsessed with your honeymoon fic and i can't stop thinking about eloping with rafe??? just going away and getting married without telling anyone. just us two. vows are intimate af. soft emotional rafe. coming back to the obx as mrs. cameron. AHHHH pls <3

elope

-> Rafe x F!Reader

Summary: When a spur-of-the-moment decision leads to a chaotic, love-drunk elopement, you and Rafe Cameron find yourselves navigating married life with zero preparation, but with plenty of laughter, stolen kisses, and the smug satisfaction of returning to the Outer Banks as Mr. and Mrs. Cameron. 𓏌

-> ily anon for your sweet words and unique request, hope I made ur first request worth it <3

✈︎ The Getaway

It starts as a joke. A stupid, reckless, deliriously in-love kind of joke.

You’re both sprawled out on the couch, legs tangled, some movie playing in the background that neither of you are actually watching. Your fingers are absentmindedly tracing patterns on Rafe’s arm when you sigh dramatically.

"What if we just ran away and got married?"

You expect him to smirk, maybe throw back some witty remark about how you’re already his anyway. Instead, he lifts his head, eyes glinting with something dangerously close to excitement.

"Say the word, baby."

You scoff, assuming he's messing with you. "Yeah, okay, Rafe."

"No, really." He’s upright now, turning to you completely. "We could. Just go. Right now. You scared?" His lips twitch like he’s challenging you.

You roll your eyes. "Oh please. If anything, you’d be the one chickening out."

That’s all it takes.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re throwing clothes into a duffel bag while Rafe is… well, not. He’s just standing in your doorway, watching you with the dumbest grin.

"Rafe, pack something," you huff.

"I’ll just buy stuff there," he shrugs, ever the rich boy.

"Where’s your bag?" you demand.

He shrugs. "Figured I’d just wing it."

"RAFE."

"What?" He laughs. "Babe, I got my wallet, and I got you. What else do I need?"

You groan, but before you can argue, he’s tugging you out the door, fingers locked around your wrist as if he’s afraid you’ll change your mind.

You won’t.

By the time you get to the airport, you’re both giddy, high off adrenaline, grinning like a couple of kids sneaking out past curfew.

"Are we actually doing this?" you ask, clutching onto his arm as he coolly slides his black Amex across the check-in counter.

Rafe just smirks, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Babe, we were married the second you said ‘What if?’"

...

A Chaotic “I Do”

Turns out, when you spontaneously elope, you don’t exactly get a say in where you end up.

You and Rafe take the first flight out, purely because it’s the next one boarding. And now? You’re standing in the middle of an airport, squinting at a Welcome to the Bahamas sign.

"Okay, solid choice," Rafe says, sliding his sunglasses on like this was all part of the plan.

"We literally picked it at random."

"Yeah, but still. Ocean, sun, you in a bikini? Feels like fate."

You both go straight to the nearest beachfront shop, which is exactly what you’d expect: cheap sunglasses, “I ❤️ the Bahamas” T-shirts, and neon-colored swimsuits.

"Babe, look at these!" Rafe holds up a pair of matching floral-print button-down shirts.

You wrinkle your nose. "Absolutely not."

Rafe tosses one in the basket anyway.

By the time you check out, you have the most ridiculous wedding attire: a flowy white sundress for you (not quite a wedding gown, but it works), and some linen pants and a half-unbuttoned shirt for Rafe (because of course).

You both needed a place to get married. The only available option? A tiny beachside chapel run by an old woman named Martha, who takes one look at the two of you, disheveled, sun-kissed, grinning like fools, and nods approvingly.

"Y’all are one of those love-drunk couples, huh?" she says, already reaching for a pen.

"You have no idea," Rafe smirks.

The ceremony is absolute chaos.

There’s no music, just the sound of waves crashing outside. The ring situation is even worse. Rafe had to buy a cheap one from a souvenir shop (it’s literally got a tiny turtle on it, but he swears he’ll get you a real one later).

Martha starts speaking, but you barely hear it because Rafe keeps whispering things in your ear:

"I still think we should’ve gone for the floral shirts." "Babe, stop laughing, you’re gonna ruin the moment." "Damn, you look good in that dress. Gonna have a hard time focusing, baby."

You swat at his chest, but your cheeks hurt from smiling.

And then, somehow, you’re at the part where she asks if you take Rafe to be your husband.

You don’t even hesitate.

"I do."

Rafe’s eyes soften just a little. "Yeah," he says, voice warm and thick with affection, "I do, too."

And just like that, you’re married.

"Now kiss your bride," Martha says, and Rafe doesn’t waste a second, dipping you down in the most dramatic kiss, nearly toppling both of you into the sand outside.

"See, baby?" he murmurs against your lips. "Told you we were married the second you said ‘What if.’"

...

The Honeymoon Phase

🍊 Breakfast in Bed (Kind of…)

You wake up to the smell of something…burning.

"Oh, no."

Before you can even sit up, Rafe bursts through the door, balancing a tray with way too much confidence for someone who is actively sloshing orange juice everywhere.

"Morning, wifey," he grins, way too pleased with himself.

"Rafe—"

"Made you breakfast." He plops the tray onto the bed, which, by the way, now has a bright orange stain soaking into the sheets, and gestures proudly.

It’s… a mess. The toast is questionable, the eggs are slightly charred, and there’s a very concerning amount of butter on the pancakes.

"You set something on fire, didn’t you?" you ask.

"What? No. Maybe. Doesn’t matter." He shoves a buttery, sticky, orange juice-soaked pancake toward your mouth. "Eat up, Mrs. Cameron."

🏝️ Beach Walks (feat. Rafe’s Need to Be Dramatic)

The sand is blazing hot, and you try to walk normally, but one step in and you immediately yelp, hopping from foot to foot.

Rafe laughs, but before you can even complain, he scoops you up effortlessly, arms wrapped firmly around your waist.

"I gotcha, baby."

"Rafe—"

"Shhh, just let me be your hero."

You roll your eyes, but you don’t protest.

"Y’know," he smirks, adjusting you in his arms, "technically, carrying my wife across the sand is, like, tradition or something."

"That’s for crossing a threshold, not—"

"Baby. Let me have this."

⚭ Introducing You as ‘My Wife’ Every Chance He Gets

It starts off cute.

Like when he checks into the hotel: "Reservation for Mr. and Mrs. Cameron."

Or when he orders drinks: "And one for my wife. She just married the luckiest guy in the world."

But then? He just doesn’t stop.

☀️ At breakfast: "My wife will have the French toast. She deserves the best, obviously." ☀️ To the surf instructor: "My wife’s never surfed before, but she’s a natural at everything, so I’m sure she’ll be great." ☀️ To random people: "Oh, you like her dress? Thanks, my wife looks good in everything."

At some point, you just start staring at him every time he says it.

"What?" he grins.

"You really love saying that, huh?"

"Saying what?"

"‘My wife.’"

"Well…" He leans in, kissing your temple. "It’s my favorite thing to call you."

And just like that, you’re completely ruined for him.

...

💍 The Ring

You're standing in front of the mirror, adjusting your hair, mentally preparing to leave this dream-like trip behind. The past few days had been perfect: messy, chaotic, and perfect.

"You ready?" Rafe's voice is casual... too casual.

"Yeah," you sigh, turning to face him. "As ready as I’ll ever be."

And that's when you see it.

A small, velvet box in his hands.

"Rafe—"

"Hold on," he interrupts quickly, flipping the lid open before you can say anything else.

And there it is.

The ring.

It’s beautiful, an actual engagement ring, nothing like the cheap little band you impulsively grabbed at the tourist shop before the ceremony. The diamond catches the light, shimmering, sparkling. It’s classic, elegant, and somehow… so you.

"You—" Your voice catches in your throat. "Rafe, when did you—?"

He rubs the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish, which is insane considering it’s Rafe Cameron standing in front of you. "I might’ve, uh, left the hotel at, like, four in the morning to find a jewelry store."

Your mouth opens, then closes. "You did what?"

"Babe, you deserve a real ring." His voice is softer now, serious in a way that makes your heart do dangerous things. "Something that actually… I don’t know, means something. Something that lasts."

You blink. "Rafe."

"I know we did this all backward, but…" He grins, taking the ring out of the box and sliding it onto your finger. "Had to get you something that actually makes people jealous."

You laugh, but your eyes are already misty as you look down at your hand, his hand still wrapped around yours.

"It’s perfect," you whisper.

His smug little smirk softens. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Good. ‘Cause you’re never getting rid of me now, Mrs. Cameron."

...

🏡 Back to the Outer Banks As Mr. & Mrs. Cameron

The Pogues’ Reaction

JJ nearly chokes on his beer when he sees the gold band on your finger.

"Shut the fuck up," he says, eyes wide as saucers. "You married Rafe?"

"Congratulations," Kiara deadpans. "Or… condolences?"

Pope just rubs his temples, processing the insanity. "You guys were barely even dating!"

Rafe throws an arm around your shoulder, looking insufferably pleased with himself. "Guess we’re just efficient."

Sarah stares at you, then at Rafe, then back at you. "You— You eloped? Like, actually eloped?*"

You shrug, suppressing a mischievous smile. "Well, yes."

"Bro," JJ turns to Rafe, baffled beyond belief. "You’re a psychopath."

Rafe just smirks. "And now she’s stuck with me forever."

The Kooks’ Reaction

Topper’s jaw drops. "You did what?"

"Married her," Rafe repeats casually.

"You can’t just— That’s not—*" Topper just splutters for a second. "Why wasn’t I invited?"

"There was no invite," you explain, smirking at his distress. "It was very in the moment."

"So you—" Kelce pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to comprehend this absolute madness. "You just ran off and got married. Just like that."

"Yup."

"You’re both insane," he says, but there’s a smile creeping onto his face. "But also… kinda iconic?"

𓏌 Married Life

Everyone’s still reeling from the news. Your phone hasn’t stopped blowing up.

JJ threatens to throw a “belated bachelorette party” despite it being entirely too late.

"You do realize you’re a Cameron now, right?" Topper reminds you every chance he gets, as if you somehow forgot.

Rafe won’t stop introducing you as his wife, relishing every second of people’s reactions.

You catch him randomly grinning at you like a lovestruck idiot.

"What?" you ask one night, curled up on the couch together.

"Nothing," he murmurs, smirking. "Just like saying Mrs. Cameron in my head."

[astrophileous]

Every Single Day

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.

Warning(s): dad spencer🥰, established relationship (eventually), parent-child relationships, alcohol consumption, brief interaction with a douchebag, made-up astronomy facts, made-up places, idk if there's any cursing but I'll throw it in here to be safe, implications of sex and nsfw themes (minors be advised), pregnancy, mentions of illness, mentions and/or implications of character death, topics of loss and grief, angst and fluff because I love the best of both worlds👍 (pls lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 7700-ish

Author's Note: hi 👋 I'm back again with another dad!spencer fic bc apparently I'm a sucker for him. I got a lil carried away with this one lol but anyways, I'm also writing this for the meet cute challenge hosted by the amazing and talented @imagining-in-the-margins so pls go head to her profile and show some love cause she's a peach ❤️ don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG

Criminal Minds Masterlist

The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Against the wind, shades of crimson and orange swayed on the trees. Fallen leaves crunched underneath his feet to the cadence of his leisured steps.

Two deep breaths, in and out. Spencer Reid greeted autumn with the deep longing of an old friend.

Next to him walked a source of light bigger than the sun, jumping and bouncing excitedly on the sidewalk. Her tiny fingers emitted warmth inside of his hand. There was a skip to her step that reminded him of the innocence he had long lost. The innocence she now possessed.

Spencer loved this little girl beyond everything he had ever known.

"Puddle, Dee."

The tiny bundle of joy jumped to escape the small pool of water, grinning up at her father, who then began ruffling her hair until she evaded his onslaught with a shriek.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"You never told me how you met Mommy."

Spencer glanced down at the 6-year-old, dressed gorgeously in her favorite floral dress, complete with a sweater that had entailed a hearty discussion about humans' perception of cold. It was only after he bribed her with the promise of a chocolate cupcake from Wakey Bakey did Spencer finally convince her to wear the woolen piece of clothing.

His daughter stared at him with a radiant smile peeking out behind a curtain of hair. A smile which Spencer always argued had belonged to you, even though the rest of Diana Aurora Reid was the splitting image of her beloved father.

"Surely I've told you before, Dee."

"Nuh-uh."

"Of course I have."

"No, Daddy. You haven't."

"Pumpkin, you know I don't forget stuff ever," Spencer said, looking at the little girl who was swaying along to the rhythm of her footsteps. "I used to tell you that story all the time. Back when you were still a baby."

Just as predicted, Diana let out a dramatic gasp as if Spencer had uttered the most offensive thing known to mankind; like claiming the earth was actually flat, for example. Spencer couldn't contain his grin upon seeing her reaction.

"But Daddy, that was so long ago!"

"Do you not remember, Dee?"

Diana shook her head.

"Fine. But Mommy must've told you the story already, right?"

"She has, but--"

"But?"

"But I wanna hear it from you."

Little Diana knew that her father could never resist her puppy dog eyes, especially garnished with that adorable pout on top. Once upon a time, you declared it sickeningly cute and annoying whenever Spencer would pull the same trick on you. When Dee started doing the same to him, you had simply laughed and kissed his cheek, letting him get a sweet taste of his own medicine.

Spencer smiled at the young girl next to him, squeezing her nose and relishing in the gleeful squeal that echoed from her chest.

"What do you wanna hear, Pumpkin?"

Diana held her chin, seemingly deep in contemplation before deciding, "Everything, Dad! I wanna hear it from the start."

"The start, huh?" Spencer hummed thoughtfully, his mind already reeling back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.

The story began on yet another ordinary Friday night.

Luck was on the BAU's side when the team managed to wrap the case they had been working all week just before Friday afternoon. By the time the sun was setting, their jet was already high up in the sky, en route from the state of Delaware to Quantico, Virginia. Spencer was looking forward to going home at a reasonable hour for once--maybe catching up on the four reading materials he had promptly pushed aside after his team was called to Delaware to work on the latest case--but that plan dissipated when Derek Morgan suddenly appeared by his side.

"Drinks. Tonight. Everyone's coming, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Derek said before dragging a reluctant Spencer away with him, ignoring the protests that the younger man kept grumbling under his breath all the way to the team's favorite bar.

Spencer just hadn't known it yet, but later down the road, he would spend the rest of eternity thanking Derek Morgan for dragging him along that night.

The Friday night crowd at Shaw's was borderline brutal, but fortunately for the team, a booth in the corner became vacant the moment they stepped into the threshold.

Two hours later, Spencer's fellow teammates weren't even close to calling it a night. The last chorus of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston had just finished blasting from the speakers when Derek sauntered back to the booth, twirling a flushed Penelope Garcia in front of him. Spencer slipped out of the booth to allow them in--preferring to stay on the most outer seat instead of crammed between his tipsy friends' bodies--before sitting down once more.

"Hey, Genius," Penelope called, waving her empty beer glass in front of Spencer's face. "Be a darling and get me a refill, will you?"

"Garcia--" Spencer quickly snatched the glass from her hand before she could send it smashing against someone's head, "--are you sure you want a refill?"

Penelope scrunched her nose. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think you're plenty drunk already."

"I'm not that drunk," Penelope denied, giggling when an unexpected hiccup interrupted her slurred words. "Derek, tell the beautiful Doctor I'm not that drunk."

"She's not that drunk, Reid." Derek grinned. "While you're at it..."

Spencer could only sigh when Derek slid his own empty glass across the table.

It was past 10 o'clock at night, and the crowd of people in the establishment seemed to have doubled in the couple of hours that the team had been there. Spencer had to squeeze himself through the ocean of patrons flooding the bar, barely able to move his limbs without other people's arms or elbows bumping against his ribcage.

Spencer was waiting for the bartender to complete his order when he happened to glance towards his right, catching sight of the concealed panic that triggered every profiler bone in his body.

Any other person would have taken one look at your face and presumed that everything was alright, but Spencer knew better. He recognized the frantic movement of your eyes, the tight press of your lips, and the impatient knocking of your fingertips on the counter. He only caught the tail end of your voice before discreetly listening to what the man you were talking to had to say.

"--so, unfortunately, I can't."

"I told you, Baby. My Veyron runs at over 260 miles per hour. We can go to Red Clover Hill and get you back home safely by twelve. It's simple math," the guy slurred smugly.

"Actually, that's not true."

The drunken man turned around at Spencer's interruption.

"Excuse me?"

"The Red Clover Hill State Park is approximately 229 miles away from here. Though theoretically, you could drive your Veyron at its maximum velocity, which is around 268 miles per hour, it's very unlikely you'll be able to maintain that speed for the entirety of the ride, considering the terrain you would have to go through between here and there. The fastest you can probably get to the park is in 60 minutes, give or take, and that's being generous. You would have to drive back to D.C. as soon as you arrive at the park if you wish to be back by twelve. It's just realistically impossible."

The man in front of him couldn't be less impressed by Spencer's lengthy rant.

"And who the hell are you?" the drunken guy said, pinning Spencer with a stare that was clearly supposed to be intimidating.

Spencer didn't even flinch. "No one. Just a guy who happens to know a lot about... simple math."

Your loud cough tore Spencer's attention away from the drunk man and towards you, who looked ready to burst from the laughter you were holding underneath. Even under the terrible lighting of the bar, Spencer could still pinpoint the hint of unspoken amusement glimmering inside your eyes.

"Sorry, Bill," you said to the man. "I really do need to be back home by twelve tonight. Maybe some other time?"

Bill didn't need to be told twice. He received the message loud and clear.

Spencer watched the other man scurry away, tail between his legs, before your charming smile enraptured him once more.

"Thank you for that. I was beginning to think he might never leave."

"Happy to help." Spencer smiled thinly, scratching the back of his neck even though the spot wasn't itchy. "What did, uh, why did he want to take you to Red Clover Hill, of all places?"

"Oh. That was... partially my fault." You grinned innocently. "I didn't know he was gonna be an insufferable drunk when he came over, and I was in the middle of watching this."

You pulled out a silver tablet from your lap. Spencer took a peek at the screen, seeing what looked like a live feed of the night sky--over North Carolina, judging by the visible constellations on the vast scene--stamped with the day's date at the bottom of the footage.

"You're watching the Roux-Nell?" Spencer deduced after gathering the facts: the live feed of North Carolina sky, the mention of Red Clover Hill State Park that harbored one of the highest grounds in North Carolina, including a collection of some of the most sophisticated telescopes in the country; you must have been planning to view that night's sighting of the Roux-Nell comet, its first time since the last one in 1927, and only its third one in history.

"Yes! How did you... don't tell me. You're an avid astronomy fan, too?"

Spencer's responding smile only made you beam even brighter.

"Anyway, that guy earlier, Bill, he approached me and asked what I was watching. So, I started talking about the Roux-Nell and about how I wish I was at Red Clover Hill right now since everyone keeps saying it's one of the best spots to view tonight's sighting. I thought he was genuinely interested until he started talking about his Veyron this, his Veyron that. I didn't even realize until a whole five minutes later that he was talking about his car!"

When you finally finished explaining, your eyes locked with Spencer's hazel ones before you seemed to cower shyly.

"Sorry. I can get a little excited when I'm talking sometimes."

"No! Don't be, it was--" Spencer stopped himself before he could complete his sentence.

What was he about to say?

Insightful? Entertaining?

Endearing?

Eventually, Spencer opted to settle for something safe and simple. "I get that way too, sometimes. A lot of the times, actually. So you don't have to apologize."

The fire flickered back inside your gaze following Spencer's admission. It burned brilliantly beneath the kindness you radiated, forged by the sharp intelligence he could see shining out of your eyes.

"So--" Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to shift the conversation in order to distract his racing mind, "--why did you tell him you needed to be back home by twelve?"

"Oh, that? I told him I'm donating blood tomorrow morning, so I need to at least get seven hours of sleep for the night."

"That's a clever lie."

You tilted your head slightly at his statement. "What makes you think it's a lie?"

"Because you're here. Nobody drinks alcohol before they're supposed to donate blood."

Your eyes flashed with surprise. "Not bad, Mister. You're very perceptive."

Spencer shrugged, trying not to appear too flustered by your casual compliment. "It's what I do."

You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his reply.

"I'm a profiler."

"Profiler?"

"With the FBI."

"FBI, huh?" You hummed, something akin to intrigue swirling in your eyes. "So, you study criminals? Trying to decipher their way of thinking, why they do what they do. Dissect their past history for any related trauma, maybe even pinpoint a psychological stressor that could trigger a criminal behavior, that kind of stuff?"

Upon hearing your response, it was Spencer's turn to be intrigued. "Exactly that kind of stuff. How did you...?"

Grinning sheepishly, you pulled a professional badge out of your pocket, holding it up in front of Spencer so he could see the emblem covering its surface.

"Edgewater Psychology Center," Spencer read the words aloud, understanding dawning on him as he found your eyes once more. "You're a psychologist."

"Guilty as charged."

Spencer couldn't fight off his amused smile. "That explains it, then."

"You know," you began, leaning further against the bar counter to shorten the distance between you and Spencer, "I've never met a profiler in person before. Most of my colleagues, they have consulted on a federal case at least once in the past few years, but the bureau hasn't yet contacted me so far."

"Really?" Spencer took a step forward, closing the distance by a mere inch. "Sounds like a big loss for us. We're idiots."

You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a smile, your gaze flicking between Spencer's own lips and eyes. For the shortest of minutes, nothing else existed in Spencer's world but you; your smile, your scent, and your kind eyes. You were a magnet carved out of his wildest dreams, and Spencer, well, he might as well have been made out of the purest of irons.

But before Spencer could get lost deeper in your relentless gaze, a shout of his name slashed through the air from across the bar. Back at the booth, Derek was waving his hand frantically in the air, stopping only when Spencer signaled him to sit back down and that he was returning in a minute.

"I have to go." He smiled tentatively, apologetically.

"Oh?"

Spencer tried not to revel too much over the small dip of disappointment at the edge of your voice.

"My friends. They, uh--"

"Oh, no, it's alright. You don't have to explain," you told him gently. "See you around, Mr. Profiler. Hope you have a great night."

With that said, you went back to watching the live feed on your tablet while Spencer, begrudgingly, trudged across the room with two refilled beer glasses in his hands, back to where his friends--minus Rossi and Hotch who were conversing among themselves at one of the standing tables--were waiting.

"Finally," Derek groaned once Spencer slammed the glasses down on the table.

"Who was that?" Emily asked as he slipped into the booth.

"Huh?" Spencer followed Emily's gaze, finding you perched up at the very end of it. "No one."

"No one?" Emily's eyebrows rose. "She didn't seem like no one from where I was sitting."

Spencer took an insanely large sip of his leftover beer.

"Holy shit, you like her, " Derek muttered. "He likes her. Pretty boy's got a crush."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah? Tell that to those red cheeks of yours." JJ chuckled.

Instinctively, Spencer touched his own cheeks as if he could physically feel the change of colors on his skin.

"I'm just tipsy," he tried to reason.

A collective scoff reverberated through the entire booth.

"What's her name, Spence?" JJ asked.

When a full minute ticked by without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment from Spencer, Penelope reached out and slapped the man right across his shoulder.

"Ow!"

"You didn't ask for her name?!" Penelope exclaimed.

"It didn't come up!"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Reid," Emily noted before sipping her margarita.

"Nope. I'm not having this. Not tonight. Look at me, Sunshine." Penelope grabbed Spencer's face in her hands, forcing him to stare directly into her glasses-rimmed eyes. "I'm not letting you spend the rest of the night like this. You will get your cute little tushy out there and talk to that girl. You will get her name and also her number, maybe even ask the nice pretty lady out while you're at it. Now, have I made myself clear?"

Spencer barely managed to swallow his nerves before he offered Penelope two tiny nods.

"Good. I don't wanna see your face back here if you're not at least pocketing her phone number. Now shoo."

Penelope sent Spencer flying across the bar with a dramatic stumble. By the time he reached your side, Spencer was nothing less than a stuttering mess and a thundering heart.

"Hi," Spencer breathed out once he found your welcoming eyes.

"Um, hi?"

"I'm Spencer."

"Okay... Spencer?"

"Reid. Spencer Reid." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just... I realized while I was sitting over there--well, my friends actually made me realize--that I, uh, never got your name. Which, you know, of course I never got it because I didn't ask. So, I was coming here, wondering if maybe you'd like to give it... to me?"

You blinked once. Twice.

By the third blink, Spencer wished the earth would open up and devour him whole.

"You want my name?"

Spencer nodded.

"What are you planning to do with it?"

"Call you?" At your bemused expression, Spencer quickly elaborated, "Not call like call. I meant referring. Yep. That's it. Although, maybe if you want to, I would love to call you as well. Sometime. And perhaps, you know, ask you out... on a date?"

Spencer swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. In front of him, you were pretty, even with the conspicuous scrutiny in your eyes as they assessed Spencer as if he was some sort of an enigma. Embarrassment burned hotter through his veins with every second that passed by. He was merely two exhales of breath away from dashing out of the door when you finally spoke up.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Smiling, you produced an old receipt seemingly out of thin air and asked the bartender to lend you a pen, scribbling something down as soon as you had it between your fingers. When the tiny piece of paper emigrated to Spencer's hand, the Cheshire cat in him jumped out once he noticed the ten digit numbers written neatly underneath a name he could only assume as yours.

"Will that be enough, Spencer Reid?"

"For now," Spencer replied before grabbing his wallet and shoving the paper containing your name inside. "I'll call you."

"You better."

After Spencer's departure, you returned your attention back to the tablet in front of you. Barely five minutes later, though, your serene watching session was once again interrupted. Only this time, it was by the ringing of your phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Spencer."*

Surprised, you swiveled your head left and right, stopping once you spotted Spencer standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were trained towards you, and behind him, a booth of four people seemed to have directed their attention at you as well.

"Spencer?"

"I know this is very untoward," he began, "but would you like to go out with me?"

"Boy, you certainly don't waste any time at all, do you?"

"I believe it's called being efficient," he countered, making you laugh. "So, what do you say?"

"Sure," you answered, enjoying the way Spencer beam at you from across the room. "I would love to, Spencer."

A breeze blew gently against Spencer's face, caressing the tendrils of curly hair that had fallen over his forehead. Diana's little fingers started to grip his tighter as the wind strengthened.

"Did you take Mommy on that date, Daddy?"

"Of course," Spencer replied, reminiscing the exact day when he had picked you up in your apartment, sweat glistening on his palm as he clutched the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. "We went to see a Mark Rothko exhibition at the National Gallery of Art, and before I took her home, we stopped by Wakey Bakey to buy some lemon tarts."

Diana gasped. "Wakey Bakey?!"

The little girl's reaction compelled a chuckle from Spencer's chest. "Yes, Pumpkin. Wakey Bakey."

"What happened after that, Daddy?"

"What do you think happened after that, Dee?"

"Um--" Diana pursed her lips, deeply lost in thought, "--did you become girlfriend and boyfriend?"

"Yes, we did."

"And you got married?!"

Spencer laughed at Diana's apparent excitement over the prospect of her parents getting married. "We did, yeah, eventually. After I proposed to her."

"Oh! Oh! The proposal!" Diana exclaimed, jumping up and down in the middle of the sidewalk without a care in the world. Spencer had to tug her back towards him before she could harm herself or the other pedestrians. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me about the proposal, Daddy!"

"You wanna hear the story about how I proposed to your mother?"

"Yes, please!"

Chuckling to himself, Spencer mumbled a quick fine before his gears had started turning towards a specific memory in his mind. Spencer was sure, even without his eidetic ability, there was no way he could have ever forgotten about the day in question.

The day you agreed to have him as your forever.

Spencer had fallen in love with you during the first date, right around the time of yet another one of his animated ramblings, where instead of shaming him to shut the hell up, you had simply stared at him in awe and said, "You're pretty when you talk."

The young agent was sure he couldn't get rid of the blush adorning his cheeks for at least an entire week.

By the time the fifth date rolled around, Spencer was absolutely certain that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It wasn't a surprise, then, that a few weeks before your first anniversary came up, Spencer had pocketed a diamond ring with a promise of forever on the tip of his tongue.

Combing the courage to take this historical leap was easy. Difficult was trying to conjure up the perfect proposal plan that he would deem worthy enough for someone like you. There were no rooms for mistakes. Spencer wanted everything to be perfect because he believed you deserved nothing less.

Which was why, in moments of desperation, Spencer ended up turning to his fellow teammates in the FBI for help.

"I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about this, Spence. Will only ever proposed to me after finding out about Henry, and we only got married after I thought he was gonna die on the field," JJ explained. "It was never the most ideal of situations, but I would never change a thing even if I could."

Unsatisfied with JJ's answer, Spencer proceeded to find the BAU's tech genius in her bat cave.

"Go big or go home, my friend," Penelope said following a 10-minute hysteria she erupted into upon learning about Spencer's intent to propose. "Splash out on the bottle. Don't hold back on the grandeur. Spend all of your savings if you have to."

"Garcia--"

"Fine, maybe not all of your savings. You should leave some for the wedding."

Spencer spent weeks mulling over Penelope's advice.

Working as an FBI agent didn't pay as well as most people thought it would, and Spencer's tendency to collect first edition books wasn't exactly an affordable hobby. It meant that as much as Spencer wanted a proposal filled with the greatest grandeur--just as Penelope had suggested--he didn't have a fat enough balance in his bank account to make his ideal proposal concept a reality.

And Spencer probably would have spent the limited fund in his savings down to its very last cent, had it not been for Derek catching him browsing through the internet for the cost of a hot air balloon ride.

"I just want to give her the perfect proposal," Spencer admitted after he finished revealing everything.

"Kid, it doesn't matter," Derek said. "Don't you see? She doesn't care about hot air balloons or any kind of grandeur. She only cares about you. There's no such thing as a perfect proposal. You're just using it as an excuse to put off asking her 'cause you're scared of what she's gonna say. But you don't need to. You two are so devastatingly in love, it's disgusting."

In the end, grandeur wasn't even present in the room when Spencer decided to pop the question.

On that particular night, Spencer arrived in his apartment just a few minutes before midnight. His aching muscles were calling for sleep as he toed his shoes off, but his footsteps soon ceased when he caught sight of his dimly lit living room.

You were fast asleep on the couch, face illuminated by the television light. Spencer's movements were careful as he knelt in front of you, studying the soft and hard edges of your features like historians would an ancient scripture. He couldn't help it when his fingers reached out on their own accord, brushing the softest of touches against the high point of your cheekbone. Inside its cage, Spencer's heart started to stir.

You were so beautiful.

Even after one year of being together, Spencer was often still taken back by how lovely you were. He adored every detail of your being, most fervently the scars that littered your skin in a constellation of stars. All of the places in your body where your scrutiny had wandered in a fleet of insecurity were the same places that Spencer wanted to worship for the rest of his life. In his eyes, you were eternally magnificent, and this thought clouded Spencer's mind as he went to shake your shoulder gently.

"Spencer?" Your groggy voice sounded meek in the comfort of Spencer's apartment, the same one he had been sharing with you since you moved in three months prior. Your lips tilted with the tiniest hint of a smile at the sight of him, and Spencer thought he would melt when your fingers instinctively reached for his face. "You're back."

"I'm back," he confirmed, leaving a trail of kisses on your palm. "Why aren't you in bed, my love?"

"I was waiting for you," you admitted. "I have something to say."

"Really? Me too."

"Hm?" Curiosity flared in the center of your eyes. "You first."

Smiling, Spencer leaned down to steal a quick kiss before saying, "Marry me."

Your breath hitched.

After a few seconds of silence, your nervous laughter filled his ears. "Right. That's a nice one, Spencer. Very funny."

"I'm not joking, sweetheart."

Spencer reached into the inside pocket of his satchel, pulling out the velvet box that had weighed down his bag by several grams for the past few weeks. Any remnant of sleep you still had in your eyes was instantly washed away the moment he opened the box to reveal a pretty ring sitting inside.

"I've had this for a while now," Spencer admitted. "I kept putting off asking you because I believed I wanted everything to be perfect, until Derek knocked some sense into my head and made me realize that I was just afraid of taking the leap. He's right, as always, but don't tell him I said that."

Spencer paused at your teary laugh, relishing in the melodic sound that made his heart nearly burst in two. "My love, I don't need the perfect proposal when you're the promise of a perfect life. Any life with you is the one I want to live for the rest of my time, and I want to start living that life from this point onward. What do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?"

Spencer never thought the word yes could sound so incredibly spectacular.

The celebration had started right away, commemorated by the shedding of clothes from each other's bodies, finalized by panting breaths and entangled limbs beneath rumpled sheets. You lay on the bed with your palm on Spencer's chest, his own hand tracing invisible patterns on the vast canvass of your skin.

Spencer watched as you stared at the ring circling your finger. "Do you like it? We can exchange it for a new one if--"

"Spencer Reid, don't you dare."

"Apologies, ma'am." He grinned, continuing the random patterns he was drawing on your skin before he spoke again, "By the way, you said you also have something to tell me."

You looked up at him with a blinding smile before scooting out of Spencer's arm and reaching for the nightstand. When Spencer saw what you had rummaged out of the bedside drawer, Spencer thought his heart had forgotten how to beat.

"Is that--"

"Surprise," you murmured giddily, handing over the object in your hand into Spencer's awaiting palm. "I found out yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person."

Spencer sat up on the bed, staring with disbelief at the small item in his hand. He only realized he had started to cry when a drop of tears fell down, blurring the two tiny pink lines in his vision.

"This is... you're..."

"I'm pregnant, Spencer," you professed.

Just an hour earlier, Spencer thought the word yes was the best thing he could ever hear falling from your mouth. But as he held you in his arms, his lips catching yours once more in a heated kiss, Spencer realized that you had many more surprising admissions waiting to be said out loud.

And Spencer couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life listening to every single one of them.

"Daddy, are you saying I was already in Mommy's belly when you proposed to her?"

"Yes, you were, Pumpkin," Spencer said, smiling at the blatant curiosity in Little Dee's eyes. "You were a surprise we didn't see coming."

Diana's responding smile was a picture of satisfaction. The father-daughter pair continued to walk down the street until Dee's voice tore through the silence once again, "Daddy?"

"Hm?"

"I thought you said a man and a woman can only make babies after they're married."

Spencer's footsteps halted on the pavement.

The silence must have stretched for only a partial of a minute, but the expectant stare Dee was nailing against his face, along with the internal panic that had short-circuited Spencer's brain made it seem as if the world had skidded into a standstill. Frantic eyes darted everywhere for a chance at rectification, and Spencer couldn't stop the words from tumbling off his lips when he saw the worn-down sign of a florist up ahead.

"Dee, would you like to buy some flowers for Mommy?"

The little girl squealed an excited yes before skipping the few steps left towards the flower shop. Spencer let out a relieved breath at having narrowly escaped such a harrowing crisis.

Once Spencer stepped into the shop, a multitude of fragrances immediately enveloped his surroundings. Diana was lingering back and forth around the vibrant displays when Spencer approached, her tiny eyebrows frowning in the most adorable way as she assessed the rows of flowers in front of her.

"Have you decided yet, Pumpkin?"

"Can we get some of Mommy's favorites, Dad?" Diana requested, pointing her tiny finger at the display of flowers she knew to be your favorites. "And then we can add some of these daisies, too!"

Spencer couldn't fight the smile blossoming on his face as he asked the florist to assemble a bouquet made out of daisies--Dee's favorite type of flowers, the same one printed all over the dress she was wearing--along with your favorite flowers in the center. Diana stared in awe at the deft work administered by the florist, her mouth forming an "O" once the bouquet was wrapped and ready to go.

"Do you think Mommy will like them, Daddy?"

"I know she will, Pumpkin," Spencer answered earnestly, his memory replaying that first time he had come home bringing the same arrangement of flowers in his hand.

Spencer came home to the apartment in utter disarray, and yet, it still was the best view that he had ever witnessed in his entire life.

Ever since his office was transformed into a nursery, the books he previously kept in there had to be relocated to the living area. Most of them had gone by now--some donated, and some others sold at second-hand bookstores--but piles of them still littered in various corners of the room.

Apart from his mountainous collection of books, small trinkets also covered every available surface of the place. From the empty nursing bottles in the kitchen sink to the breast pump on the counter, and the tiny socks on the coffee table to the pacifier jammed between the sofa cushions; every single one of them contributed to the mess that his apartment had become. Yet as he paused to inspect every inch of the place, Spencer couldn't find any other emotion besides warmth flooding his chest.

Muffled footsteps padded towards the living room before you appeared from the hallway with a freshly bathed Diana in your arms. As soon as your eyes locked with his, the crease between your eyebrows automatically vanished.

"You're home."

"I'm home." Spencer grinned before welcoming you into his embrace.

He stole a quick kiss from your lips before bending down to smother a 7-month-old Diana who yelped in glee when Spencer began attacking her with kisses all over her face.

"She's been fussy since yesterday," you told him. "I think she missed you."

"Did you, baby? Did you miss Daddy?" Spencer cooed. "I can take her for a few while you rest. You look tired. Are you feeling okay?"

"Gee, Spence. What a way to a girl's heart."

"You know what I meant, sweetheart."

"It's fine, Spencer. I just got a headache, but it's all better now that you're here."

Spencer smiled as he kissed your free knuckles. "If it's any consolation, you're still the most heavenly creature that I've ever laid eyes upon."

A sneaky laughter rumbled past your chest. "Fine. I'll let you go just this once," you said before letting Spencer take a yawning Diana into his arms.

As Spencer carried Dee towards the couch, you noticed a bouquet of flowers lying next to the kitchen sink in the corner of your eye. You glanced at the young genius with a discreet smile before aptly transferring the flowers into a vase.

"These are pretty," you commented, joining your family in the living room. You put the vase in the middle of the coffee table amidst the books and various baby clutters before dropping yourself against Spencer's side.

"They're your favorites."

"I know. As usual." You smiled affectionately. "And daisies. You've never bought me daisies before."

Spencer's eyes gleamed. "I bought the daisies for Dee."

"Oh?"

"I think daisies are gonna be her favorite."

"You do, huh?"

"One hundred percent."

Spencer's eyes looked up from Diana to you then, whose own gaze had been kept intently on your husband and daughter. Darkness embellished the area underneath your eyes, and Spencer couldn't help but count the lines of fatigue that seemed to have multiplied on the contours of your face. Even then, Spencer thought you had never looked more stunning than you did at that moment; as his wife, the mother of his child, and the woman who owned the sole reign of his heart.

Confusion wandered into your eyes when you noticed Spencer's stubborn stare. A surprised squawk escaped your lips as Spencer unexpectedly captured them in a rather long kiss. When he pulled back, Spencer looked the very image of a man who was drunk on love.

"I love you. You know that, right?" Spencer confessed as he squeezed your hand twice in his palm.

"Spencer, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing. I just--" he paused for a chuckle, seemingly trying to find the right words to say before he could continue, "--I owe my life to you, sweetheart. For all of the times you have pulled me out of the darkness, to the light you've brought into my life. You and Dee are the reason I keep on breathing. Without the two of you, I'm nothing."

"Spencer," you breathed out. "Where did all of this come from?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. "I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life and that you've brought Dee into ours. Everything worth fighting for about me is because of you."

The telltale signs of tears began to cast a shadow over your eyes. You pressed your hand to Spencer's cheek, feeling the rugged sensation of his newly shaved stubble stroking your skin. Spencer melted into the warmth of your touch.

"You're giving me far too much credit here, Spencer," you whispered. "Everything you are has always been your own doing rather than mine. All I ever did was cheer you on from the sideline. You would still have become the person that you are today even if I weren't in your life."

Spencer physically shuddered at your last statement. "Don't say that. I can't even begin to imagine a life without you in it."

"Well, even if such day does come, when I won't be a part of your life anymore, I know you're gonna be just fine. Because you'll have Dee with you--" you stroked Diana's head lovingly, "--and I know that the two of you will give each other enough love and strength that you won't even notice I'm not around anymore."

The frown on Spencer's face deepened.

"You're not allowed to leave me. Ever," Spencer decided childishly.

"Fine. I won't. But you have to remember--" you brought your palm towards Spencer's chest, feeling each rhythmic thrum of his heart which seemed to flutter ever so slightly underneath your fingers, "--I'll be right here if you need me. Always."

Spencer's own hand landed on top of your hand, entwining your fingers together without ever tearing his fierce gaze away from yours.

"Always."

The sun was shining down in flimsy rays when Spencer and Dee finally walked past the familiar gate. Glimmers of gold sneaked past the reddish leaves on branches before falling upon the ground.

Next to him, Diana was humming a melody that Spencer recognized from one of your specially curated playlists. Her little hands struggled to carry the gigantic bouquet that she couldn't wait to present to you. It didn't matter that the bouquet itself was nearly as tall as she was, Diana still refused to let Spencer assist her.

"I wanna give Mommy the flowers myself," she had told Spencer in a manner that reminded him too much of your own stubbornness.

After a couple more minutes of walking, Spencer's reverie was soon broken by the excited squeal coming from the little girl beside him.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Diana dashed into a sprint before words of warning could fall from Spencer's lips. He watched intensely as Diana's little feet moved upon the ocean of fallen leaves on the ground. Her tight grip around the bouquet never wavered even when she ran up the grassed hill, all the way towards the destination in her mind.

All the way towards the headstone with your name written on it.

When Spencer finally got there, Diana was kneeling next to your grave with panting breaths, but the smile stretched on her lips was the biggest one that Spencer had ever seen.

"Hi, Mommy. I'm back with Daddy," Diana announced. "Daddy, go say hi to Mommy."

"Hello, my love." Spencer smiled before taking a seat next to his daughter.

"We brought flowers, Mommy! They're your favorites. I added daisies to make them prettier." Diana beamed before putting the bouquet against your headstone. "You're not gonna believe what happened in class yesterday!"

As Diana animatedly began to recount the funny incident in her classroom--somehow involving a boy named Patrick and a cup of slushie--Spencer watched over her with a permanent smile on his lips. The little girl loved to talk--a trait she obviously acquired from both of her parents--and Spencer knew just how much you used to adore listening to Dee's rambling at any time of day.

It must have been at least ten minutes later when Diana's story eventually whirled to an end. Her attention instantly shifted to the family who was paying their own respect just two headstones over, a small squeak of puppy tumbled from Dee's lips before she dashed towards the boy with a golden retriever pup beside his legs.

Spencer shook his head affectionately at his daughter's antics.

"I know we were just here a couple of weeks ago, but Dee wanted to tell you about the slushie incident herself," he said. "And, well, I can never deny the chance to visit you, love."

A loud laughter boomed a few feet away. Spencer watched as Diana ran around jubilantly with the little boy and his dog. The boy's father waved at Spencer from the distance, which he replied with an acknowledging nod.

"She's getting so big, sweetheart. Sometimes, I just wanna stop time and keep her as my little girl forever. I wish you were around to see how much she's grown." Spencer smiled ruefully. "I can't believe that it's been more than a year since you were gone."

Spencer thought back to the last few moments you spent on this earth. How just a few months prior, the doctor had advised you to stop the treatment and take a rest at home instead.

The chemo isn't working, was what the doctor was really saying. You should be spending as much time as you can with your family.

So, that was exactly what you ended up doing.

Spencer had quit his job at the FBI shortly after you were diagnosed, opting to take a full-time job of teaching where the hours were more humane and reasonable. The day you were discharged from the hospital, Spencer made a vow to himself to make every day as memorable as he could, and he was keeping true to it. Those last few months were filled with countless road trips, an unforgettable weekend at Disneyland, and visits to various museums across the states. Spencer made sure that each day was charged with love and laughter, a perfect day culminated by an equally perfect night, with you falling asleep in the safety of his arms.

Until one morning, when Spencer woke up to your cold and lifeless body lying by his side.

"Do you remember what you told me once? About how Dee and I would never notice you were gone because we would have each other?" Spencer recalled. "You were wrong about that, sweetheart. Your absence is the first thing I notice every time I start my day. The moment I open my eyes, I notice that you aren't lying next to me on the bed like you're supposed to be. I notice the cold imprints on the sheets where your warmth used to linger. I notice you in every corner of our home, but most importantly, I notice you in Dee."

Spencer glanced at his little girl, playing and running around a pile of fallen leaves with her newfound friend and his pet dog. His heart floundered at the scene.

"Everyone keeps saying that she's an exact copy of me, but I see glimpses of you in her more and more every single day," Spencer admitted. "She's the only anchor I have left now, my love. Without her, I'm lost. I try constantly, with whatever strength still resides in me, to give her everything she would ever need. Shower her with every ounce of love I have left in my heart."

A lone tear cascaded down Spencer's cheek. He quickly erased it away with a wry chuckle.

"What I would do to have a minute with you again, my love. I hope you know I'd give my heart and soul to have those extra sixty seconds just to stare at your beautiful face. To hold you in my arms one last time. I try my best to fill the void that you left for Dee's sake. Some days are difficult, and I keep thinking about how much better it would be--how much better off she would be--if it were you here with her instead of me. I'd trade places with you if I could. I fear that all of me would never be enough for her, because she needs you. We both do."

Spencer inhaled a breath, forcing the imminent wave of tears from breaking the dam he had masterfully crafted since the moment you were gone. He promised a long time ago never to allow the grief to consume him.

He still had his daughter to think about.

"I'm beginning to think people are wrong when they say time makes everything better. The pain never lessens. It just becomes bearable with time. Dee makes it bearable," Spencer confessed. "I can only hope I'm doing the same for her."

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Spencer hurriedly wiped away any sign of tears from his face before he caught Diana in his arms. Her innocent laughter was a balm to the gaping wound in his chest, and Spencer allowed himself to bask in the bliss that his little girl brought to his life.

"What is it, Pumpkin?"

"Look what Brian's mom gave me!"

Spencer looked at her tiny hand to see a plastic daisy ring gracing one of her fingers. He looked up towards the family in the distance, mouthing a thank you to the mother who waved him off with a smile.

"It's very pretty, Dee."

"Like me?"

The young dad chuckled. "Yes, very much like you."

"Like Mommy, too?"

Spencer's smile softened. "Very much like Mommy, too. Yes."

The exhilarated smile Diana rewarded him could probably light up the entire state of Virginia at night.

Five minutes later, Spencer found himself bidding you a goodbye, with Diana promising to visit again very soon to give you an update over the slushie incident that supposedly got Patrick in a lot of trouble at school. The air was getting even chillier as the two walked the path they had taken after arriving at the cemetery. Spencer tugged Diana closer to his side once he saw the familiar gate lurking a few feet ahead, keeping her safe while simultaneously seeking her warmth.

"Daddy?" Dee's voice arose shyly once the pair had reached the main street.

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I miss Mommy," she admitted quietly.

Spencer's fingers instinctively tightened for a split second around his daughter's hand. "I know you do, Pumpkin. You just need to remember, even if she's not physically with us anymore, that she's always watching over you and keeping you safe."

Diana nodded her head understandingly. "Do you miss her, too, Daddy?"

"Every day, Dee." Spencer smiled, glancing back towards the gate of the cemetery behind him. "Every single day."

[saphirafoxgirlspost1]

(Open Rp) Journey to the west Christmas Story in "Icy Journey to the west of Love"

On the Day of Christmas Eve, It's been 2 months Ever Since Saphira's Beloved daughter's death and Saphira Is Still Furious at "Soon-to-be-Ex-Fiancé " Name "Prince Daniel Jamerson Rooster" Who Was Still Obsessing of Having a Son but He Pitch a Fit over NOT Having a Son and Being Abusive towards Saphira and made Their daughter a Stillborn. Then Daniel wanted to talk to her but Saphira snarled At him with Rage and Telling him this is all his Fault for being a Bad Father and a Horrible Fiancé To her and Their daughter And then she told him to not Talk to her at all because of what he had Done to Her and Their Daughter, He backed off and rubbing his Now Bruised and Cut hands because His father King Rooster Gave Him and His hands a beating after He found out what His Son had Done to Saphira and His Granddaughter. Saphira Maybe a Forgiving Person but She has her Limit, and by limit I mean a Serious Line That Daniel Completely Crossed it and It would never be Uncross at all. Then After Hour of being Ignored, Daniel went ballistic and yelling at Saphira For Ignoring him but She reminded him Of What he has done to His Own Flesh and blood and How Horrible and a big failure he is as a Man and a Father all because of His Stupid Obsession of Having a Son and then Daniel went outburst, trashing the whole Christmas stuff and throwing tantrums like a 2 year old, Demanding that He wanted a son alot so much it made Saphira and his parents and her parents went into shock. Then He grabbed Saphira's First Gift of Christmas is the beautiful Silver Reindeer bell and he tried to destroy it many times but It was Protected by Magic which made saphira very angry at Daniel throwing a fit like a 3 year old until His father Bellowed in anger which made Daniel stopped and backed off when he said,

King Rooster: "DANIEL JAMERSON ROOSTER!!!, STOP THIS CHILDISH BEHAVIOR RIGHT THIS MINUTE! How DARE you Ruining this Christmas in this kingdom of sakutopia!? Have you no shame!? Your mother and I didn't raise you to act like this! Haven't you realized that it was YOUR Fault that you Killed your daughter because of your Stupid Obsession of having a son?!"

Daniel: " But Father, I wanted the son So much so he can take over my throne as well.."

King Rooster: " Oh? And why is that, I demand to know!"

Then Saph came in and said,

Saph: "I know Someone Who Can answer that! Guards! Bring her Here!"

Then the Guards Dragged Barbra Minx who is Now all beat up and bruised which made Daniel went pale Like a ghost and saphira knew something was up…and she said,

Saph: "Alright Minx, I want you to tell them the reason why Daniel wanted a Son in the first place and you better use words carefully now.."

Saphira's Voice turns Cold and Haunted that made Barbra's Spine shivers as Barbra began to speak,

Barbra Minx: " He told me the reason why he wanted a son is because he wanted to run away with me with a son..so he can take over both sakutopia and Shintari..and I wanted a son too but i'm infertile.. So he Planned to marry saphira and had a son so he can run away with me and take her son and took over other kingdom.."

Her confession made everyone shocked and enrage as Daniels Father Looked at His son with rage and fury, Then Before Daniel Speak His Father Slapped him So hard that Daniel tumble and fell backwards with his hand on his now swelling cheeks and His father said,

King Rooster: " WHAT… WERE…. YOU… THINKING!? You Cause the Treason against the Sakutopia Kingdom and Not only you ruined christmas but You Ruined and Tarnished The Good Name of This Family! Oh, I'm Going to give you a Beatings of the life time when i'm Done with you I-"

Then Saphira Raise her hand to stop His Father and she said,

Saph:" Not So Fast Your majesty, I have a good Proper Punishment For These two and I think you can leave the Punishment to me. For You, Daniel Shall Be Punished By Sterilizing your "Manhood" so that way No Children can be born with Such a Horrible BEAST like you and your arms and Legs be chopped off so that way you don't Lay hands on anyone Nor kicking or running away again..just like you did to me and my daughter.. and Barbra Minx you shall be punished as well 10 lashes and 3 more for a scheme, betrayal and treason as well.. and last but not least, You Two Shall go walk of Shame before Daniels arms and legs being chopped off and Hearby Banished From my Kingdom and Mark my Words If I ever hear or see you two set foot on Sakutopia again, You'll be executed and your head will be on the Pike as an example of what happens if Abusers and cheaters like you gets too comfortable around in my Kingdom. And also Daniel I'm Calling off the Engagement and I Don't Want to See your Horrible Tyranted Face ever again! Do you hear me? We are Finished!"

After the Announce Of Punishment, Daniel and Barbra began to Go walk of shame naked as the people of Sakutopia Jeering, throwing tomatoes and veggies at them, calling them horrible names and cursed them for their sins including the Murder of Saphira's Daughter. Barbra got 13 lashes from the real sharp whip while Daniel got his arms and legs Chopped off and sterilized completely and now on the Wheelchair, Pushed by His father whom he still Livid and Ashamed towards His own Son For what he has done To Saphira, He heard about His son mistreated Saphira because she's pregnant with a baby girl and all.. and he said to his son coldly, "When we get home Boy, I'm going to give you a beaten of a lifetime and your going to Marry to a Princess of the Ogre Kingdom and you better kiss Barbra minx goodbye cause You'll never going to see her again!" Then King Minx Did the Same thing to Barbra, "You too Young lady, Your going to get a beaten and Your going to Marry to the Prince of the Pig Kingdom so you can Kiss that Rooster Boy goodbye cause you'll never see him again!" Then the Fathers said to Daniel and Barbra," Because of What you did to Saphira and Her Daughter, you've cause treason to the whole entire kingdom!!" Then they left the Kingdom after they apologize For what their idiot son and daughter had done to her, "Good Riddance!" Saphira said. Then Year Later and it was on a First day of December, Saphira was Depressed during that time as Her heart grew heavy and has a Deep Wound Ever Since the Engagement is called off and The time That Daniel Ruined Christmas as well, Her Love was Nowhere to be found. During the Year before the December 1st She rejected every men and went nasty on them. Her father was Worried about Saphira being heartbroken and hated men For a same reason, He Blamed Daniel for all the Mistreatment He Put her through and Now Fearing that Saphira Doesn't believed in love anymore and not even a Christmas Spirit can't Mend a broken heart, So Saphira Decided To Go to the Human World and headed to the cafe alone when it was raining outside in a human world As she went inside of the cafe. She sits Down Alone at the corner of the cafe near the windows and after that, She Looked at the window watching the couples walked by and all made Saphira very heartbroken and depressed. But Suddenly a Mystery man came in and Knowing That She has a broken heart, So He began to tell her That she can go to the Five Finger mountain and then Saphira asked what was in the five finger mountain and the Mystery man said "inside, there was a monkey king and perhaps he will be the one for you, set him free and you shall be his queen.", So She decided to go to the 5 finger mountain but she was chased down by KL Hog after saphira runs out that pigsy is trying to kill her when she's eating food..when she made it up there..she saw the beautiful area and saw a white lotus blossom and she saw the Hole down there..and She moved the lotus blossom and she looked down and she said "Hello?.. Anyone here??" Then she climbed down..and She pulled the flashlight out..and turn it on and then a man with long grey hair with bald head came and hugs her as she screams and said," AHH who are you?!" and then he answers…

[bloodlineee1]

i’d love to see a jey uso x reader from you! something silly followed by some smut maybe. just light hearted relationship stuff.

Pairing: Jey Uso x Reader.

Warnings: smut Minors DNI 18+

i loved this idea so muchhh i hope you guys enjoyyyyy!!!!

I get out of the shower and realize I forgot to grab a towel. were at Jey's twin brother's house visiting and at home, we usually have towels in our bedrooms so it totally crossed my mind.

"babe" y/n yells.

"yeah?" Jey yells back from downstairs.

"Can you bring me a towel please"

"Can you bring me a towel please" Jimmy mocks.

"I heard that Jimmy" y/n laughs yelling at him.

"Man shut yo ass up before you get me in trouble" Jey laughs.

"yeah, one second" he gets up from the couch and throws a pillow at Jimmy.

after a few minutes, he finally walked in with a towel in his hand.

"here" he puts his arm out to pass me the towel.

"took you long enough" I walk towards him and try to snatch the towel.

"say goodbye to this towel 'cause you ain't getting it now" he snatches the towel back.

"babe, give me the towel." I bend around his back to grab it.

"say please" he smacks my ass and moves the towel again.

"Joshua come on it's cold" I smack his arm.

"say please" he taunts.

"Please, now give me my towel" I suck my teeth and put my hand out.

"say it nicer" he pushes more.

"Josh stop playing bro," I say purposely because I know he doesn't play that "bro" shit.

"oh, I'm bro now?"

"yeah, uce" I laugh.

"oh really? keep it up" he laughs too.

"Can you just give me my towel, Jules?" I say, his old stage name, which he also hates.

"Now you definitely not getting this towel" he chuckles.

"I'm not walking around your brother's house naked," I say annoyed at this point because its cold asf.

"what you gonna do for this towel?" he smirks.

"anything you want," I say obliviously.

"oh really? bend over then" he jokes he pulls me by my waist.

"Yeah, you crazy" I grab the towel and try to walk away.

"am I?" he pulls me in with the towel that he never let go.

"yes, you are" My breath hitches from how close he is we've been married for 3 years and he still makes me nervous.

"yeah?" he starts rubbing my clit.

"Yeah," I moan.

"you've been walking around with this stank-ass attitude all damn day I know this is what you've been wanting" he whispers in my ear.

"I don't have an attitude" I roll my eyes.

"yes, you have ever since you and Naomi went out with the girls last night." he puts a finger in.

"Well, when you come home horny from the club and your man is giving lectures about drinking "too much" instead of taking his dick out and fucking you till you cry you'd have an attitude too," I say annoyed and so horny.

"mhm ill give what you want like I said bend that ass over" he smacks my ass.

15 minutes later.

"Ugh! fuck babe!" y/n moaned loudly, trying not to break her arch in her back. She gripped the sheets, with her eyes rolling to the back of her head as Jey held her by the waist and drilled her.

"Baby wait" She whimpered, moving up some.

"Whea' you goin'? Huh?" he grabbed her by the hair and whispered into her ear.

"Mm, It's too much" She whined, reaching back to push at his stomach.

"This what you wanted, remember? Take this shit like a big girl" He let her hair go and fucked her deeper than before.

He slowed his pace down.

"Fuck me back" He demanded slapping her ass.

She let a short moan slip out and he stopped moving, waiting for her to do what he said.

She gripped the sheet again, moving her hips in a circular motion. He bit his bottom lip, mesmerized by how her ass moved so perfectly.

"Mmm," She muffled, holding in a moan before she started throwing her ass back on him.

"Fuck y/n." He groaned, watching her ass effortlessly jiggle.

He felt his peak near, gripped her hips, and put his leg up.

Her mouth fell open and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

"Take dis shit" Jey gritted, gripping her hips tightly as he pounded into her.

"Tell me you love me, baby," He said, knowing the state she was currently in, she couldn't say anything.

Moans were stuck in her throat, she couldn't form a sentence at the moment at how much pleasure she was feeling.

"I can't hear you" He taunted, slowing down.

She gasped "Shit! I love you!" She moaned "I love you so much"

"I love you too baby," He said softly

"You gonna cum for me?"

"I-I-I can't" She whined.

"Yes, you can baby, come on give it to me" He coached.

He could feel her body trembling below him, feeling his peak coming too but wanted to make sure she got hers first.

He put his leg down and pushed more into her back letting her body collapse. Not stopping his deep strokes as she now lay on her stomach and he laid on top of her.

"You like makin' me feel good right?" He whispered in her ear. She immediately nodded, feeling him in her stomach the deeper he grind into her.

"Then let it go, mama. Let me feel it" He softly kissed the side of her face and she kept clapping her walls around him as the tears that were building up in her eyes started to spring free.

"Make me feel good and cum fa' me" He whispered with a shaky voice.

"Oh fuck" She dragged out as the orgasm ripped threw her body

"Just like that baby. Good girl" He cooed, kissing the side of her face, stroking her through it.

His eyes started drifting close releasing himself inside her.

"damn," they both said in unison.

They turn our heads towards the door after hearing a knock.

"aye get yall nasty asses up and get dressed we going out to eat" Jimmy yells from the other side of the door.

"Aii," Jey yells back, still lying on top of me.

"and clean my sheets" he adds.

"See," I smack him on his chest.

"Jim, leave them alone lord knows what we be doing in their house," naomi laughs.

[phie04]

Inconvenience | g. clarke

Chapter 3 - Ikea Trip

Summary: four boys and noa in ikea, what could go wrong?

Word Count: 1.1k+

Warnings: swearing, George being a dick

noamurphy

liked by chrismd10, arthurtv and 13,473 others

noamurphy literally got halfway to Ikea before they demanded to stop for food

comments open

chrismd10 well we were hungry what did you expect?

⮑ noamurphy wait??? to get Ikea meatballs???

⮑ gkbarry_ noa speaking facts as usual

⮑ noamurphy love you babe x

arthurtv but we wanted hot dogs

⮑ noamurphy yeah and I wanted a successful football career but we don’t always get what we want

⮑ arthurhill just saw chris choke on his hot dog after he read this

⮑ fan new Noa lore?????

fan1 she’s so real for giving us this

⮑ fan2 mother really fed us today

⮑ noamurphy I worry for you guys sometimes

fan3 Ikea vlog 👉👈🥺 pls

⮑ noamurphy arthurtv ?

⮑ arthurtv 🫡

“Thank fuck.” Noa muttered, as the car finally pulled into the Ikea store parking lot. Somehow, their half an hour journey had doubled in length when Arthur TV declared that he was hungry and wanted to get hot dogs. “Honestly, all you guys do is think about your stomachs.”

“But I was hungry-“

“Well aware of the Television, maybe you should have had breakfast.”

“I had two Costco cookies!”

“Is that really what constitutes as a healthy breakfast these days.” Noa replied, rubbing her temples. “C’mon, let’s get this show off the road and into Swedish Heaven.”

Noa managed to herd the boys into the showroom area without much fuss, but once they were inside was where the real trouble began.

Arthur, who had decided to vlog the entire trip was running round the bedrooms with Chris, deciding to tumble out of a wardrobe every five minutes to declare that ‘they weren’t in Narnia any more’, which not only drew the attention of all the other shoppers, but some of the workers as well.

“Dixie! Please hold yourself together for five minutes, please? Just five minutes so that I can choose a bed frame and wardrobe…preferably one that you and Arthur haven’t tried to jump out of.” Noa pleaded, examining a black wooden bed.

“What colour do you want everything in? Because that will narrow the search down.” Chris said, before gazing at a set of bunk beds. “You know, if you ever wanted to have more than one person stay-“

“I’m not getting bunk beds Chris.” She sighed. “I’m not seven years old. Or making a nerf war sequel with my cousins.”

Starting to turn red, as the others snicked, Chris shook his head. “I was a kid okay? And at the time it looked good and we had fun!”

“Is anyone feeling thirsty?” Arthur TV asked, a slow grin starting to form. “I could go for a can of quick revive.”

Chris groaned in frustration, throwing his hands in the air. “Children, I’m friends with actual children.”

The four looked at each other, processing what he had just said, before dissolving into fits of giggles. Realising what they had interpreted, Chris shook his head and began to walk off. “Great, now they’re going to joke that I’m a nonce. Wonderful, just what I needed today, really, really it is.”

“Oh come on Chris, we know you don’t like kids. George, on the other hand-“

“Nope not even starting that conversation.” George grumbled, beginning to play with the drawers of one of the bed. “Why would someone want drawers on their bed?”

“If they don’t have enough room for a wardrobe I’m guessing. Not everyone has YouTuber money you see.” Noa replied, raising her eyebrows at him to reinforce her point. George just rolled at her and walked away, causing Noa to turn to the two Arthurs.

“Okay, what is his problem? Was it something I said? Or did?” She asked, moving to go inspect the next set of beds.

“Uh, we don’t actually know, we’re trying to figure it out too.”

“So he hasn’t even told you guys? Don’t you have like, guy time where you air all your grievances about stuff, and then bark like dogs at the end of it?”

Arthur (Hill) snorted. “No, you’re thinking of the Diamond Dogs, from Ted Lasso.”

“Shit yeah I am. Point still stands, he hasn’t said anything?”

“Not to us at least. And then I’d guess nothing to Chris either, because Chris then would have told us.”

Noa sighed as she ran her hand over a wooden bed frame. “Great, so one of your closest friends is pissed at me and I don’t even know why.”

“I’m sure he’ll come round, don’t even worry about it.”

“Thanks.” She muttered. “You know what, I think I’m gonna get this one. It’s cute, it’ll fit in my room, and I’m pretty sure there’s a matching desk and wardrobe.”

Grinning wickedly, Arthur (Frederick) beckoned Chris and George back over to join them. “You know, I reckon you need to test it, just to make sure that you like it.”

Noa smiled and flopped onto the bed. “Happy now?”

“Nah, I reckon you need someone to test it with you know? Just in case you ever find someone, or get lucky on a night out.” Arthur said, turning his head slowly to look at George.

“Why are you looking at me?” He asked, a small undertone of disgust in his voice, causing Noa’s eyebrows to raise gently.

“Well my shoes are muddy, so that’s a no. And Arthur and Chris are like her brothers, so I wouldn’t ask that of them.”

“But you’d ask that of me.” He grumbled quietly, moving to stand next to the bed. George sighed. “Move over then.”

Noa did so, smiling apologetically at George, before shooting a glare at the other three, who had all whipped out their phones.

George bit his lip as he laid down next to Noa, and began glaring daggers at the back of her head. He was hating every second, especially the fact that no matter where he looked, all he could see was Noa. From the top of her head all the way to where her hair fell on her back, obscuring the graphic print on the back of her hoodie. For a second, he wasn’t sure if he was in Ikea or his own personal hell, crafted for him by Arthur Hill.

“Wait, Noa you gotta make sure you’ve got enough room to roll over.” Chris added, throwing the couple an enthusiastic double thumbs up.

“I’m gonna kill you.” Noa said, only loud enough for George to hear, as she narrowed her eyes at Chris, who was too busy grinning from ear to ear, along with the two Arthurs.

George saw this and averted his gaze, doing everything he possibly could to avoid meeting Noa’s eyes as she faced him. He resisted for as long as he could, but eventually caved.

Luckily, he didn’t meet Noa’s eyes, as she had presumably fazed out, gazing at the geometric pattern on the pillow. George’s stare softened slightly has he studied her features, noticing the faint freckles that dotted over her nose, as well as the small circle of amber that added contrast to her icy blue eyes.

George wasn’t sure how he had been staring at her, but he was saved from any further embarrassment by Chris clearing his throat. “Glad that’s over.” He said, immediately sitting up and fixing his hair, leaving Noa behind.

She coughed, rubbing her face as if it would absolve her of any feelings of uneasiness and embarrassment. “Thanks for that.” She muttered to the two Arthurs. “I’m sure that really helped the situation.”

“I reckon so yeah.” Arthur Television agreed happily.

“Being sarcastic Artie, being sarcastic.” She sighed, patting his shoulder.

chrismd10

liked by noamurphy, arthurhill and 386,820 others

chrismd10 can’t buy an ikea bed without testing it first

comments open

fan1 noa??? and George???? what is going on right now???

⮑ fan2 I was there and I don’t think they’re a thing bc Arthur asked them to do it

⮑ fan1 but why would he do that if not for…?

noamurphy hate you arthurhill

⮑ arthurhill love you too

maxbalegde can’t believe my mans in bed with someone else

⮑ noamurphy not my fault I promise he’s all yours x

fan4 I know they say that there’s nothing going on but look how close they are!!!! really confused rn

⮑ arthurtv Watch my vlog and then you’ll be fine

gkbarry_ omg who’s that fittie in bed

⮑ georgeclarke yours truly

⮑ gkbarry_ ew no not you

⮑ chrismd get roasted George

⮑ georgeclarke shut up hobbit

[ffc1cb]

new art blog

the short version:

1. i made a new art blog: @cbge;

2. @ffc1cb will stay up as an archive.

the long version:

hi everyone. this announcement is somewhat late, since the blog in question has been up for a few months now, and i’ve already started posting art on it. the reason it took me so long to “reveal” it is because i’ve been trying to figure out whether a new blog is something i actually want, or if it's just me throwing darts at a board, trying to make myself feel better somehow.

i don’t know when precisely it all started, but ever since sometime last year i’ve been going through a hard time, both emotionally and creatively. i’m not sure whether being depressed is what made art harder, or art becoming harder is what made me depressed (a bit of both, i think), but lately, drawing has been a struggle. 

i’ve found myself having less and less energy for art, and this lack of energy resulted in poorer quality of drawings, which resulted in me feeling like i’m getting worse at it, despite my efforts. i knew i could make good art, art that i’m proud of - i’ve done so countless times before, - but somehow it felt like i just couldn’t anymore, like my hands forgot how to. nothing looked right. 

i’ve been trying to experiment. i’ve learned some new things, tried this and that - it was enlightening, to say the least, and even though i kind of liked how it looked, it made me feel a sense of displacement. i was at odds with myself, my art, and how i felt about it, when previously i was always in sync. i was making art, yes, and it looked nice, but it felt like it wasn’t mine.

i suppose part of it was also the growing lack of engagement, and i don’t mean likes and reblogs - i never particularly cared about those. they are all just numbers to me; dry and impersonal. what i’m talking about is actual, human interactions: personal thoughts in tags, asks, replies, etc. a conversation. 

i don’t mean to sound “old” or anything, but i remember when talking to artists online was more commonplace. my wife tells me it’s because the internet culture has changed over the years, that people have become more reclusive, less willing to be open with their thoughts, and she's probably right, but in my slump i find it hard to believe. somehow it feels like it’s my fault for being less “engaging”, for seeming unapproachable or perhaps intimidating. maybe it’s “just a skill issue”, maybe it’s because i have stopped churning out fanart for popular fandoms, maybe it’s because i refuse to torture myself emotionally by having an art account on twitter (i can’t fucking stand the place anymore; i still post nsfw art there, but only because it’s literally one of the only places on the internet that allows you to do so. i miss when you could post female presenting tits on tumblr).

i have always, ever since i started posting art on the internet back in 2012, done it for human connection. i wanted to talk to people, and have people talk to me. i wanted to inspire people with my art, and i wanted to bring them comfort. i wanted to elicit an emotional response, and have people tell me about it. it was one of the main reasons i drew in the first place; having lost that, i’ve been struggling to stay passionate about making art.

i miss being a small artist on the internet during the 2010s. i remember when i could make a post going, “hey everyone, how are you all doing today?” and it would not seem weird to people in the slightest. it is just me? does anyone else feel that way? am i too deep in my own head? the internet feels so unwelcoming nowadays, especially to artists. we are all just content machines; people scroll by our stuff, or maybe look at it for half a second and leave a like before scrolling away. i know it’s unfair to demand people’s attention, especially now when our lives are already so overwhelmed by everything - no one has the energy to pay closer attention; i myself am not immune to mindless scrolling. but it feels bad. i wish we were all sincere and enthusiastic again.

anyway (sorry for rambling. i hope i haven’t bored you to death), you might want to say, okay, but how is making a new art blog on a “dying” social platform going to help with any of that? the truth is, i don’t know. i just felt like i needed a change. 

i’ve been running this blog since 2016 (that’s almost 8 full years!). i feel incredibly attached to it, but at the same time, i feel it weighing me down. 

there are people who followed me years ago for one specific thing, still expecting me to post about said thing (i still find it mindboggling that some people follow artists for a specific fandom only, but that is a whole other matter for a whole other post that i will never write). a third, if not half, of my following are probably dead blogs. and with my current struggle with trying to regain the joy i once felt for making art, looking back at all the art i’ve done over the years makes me feel tired. i still love it all; it’s all very dear to me. i’m proud of it; looking at it makes me mourn my younger and more passionate self.

so i’ve decided to make a new blog, where i will let myself post whatever i want, in whatever stage of donness i feel like. maybe it will help me, somehow. maybe it won’t. but if you care about my art, if you want to keep following me on my artistic journey, i welcome you to join me there. similarly, feel free not to - no hard feelings.

thank you everyone for your support over the years; it matters a lot to me. i’m not planning to delete or private this blog; it will stay up, and i will still be reachable on here. i will still answer asks, if there will be any. i’m just not planning to post any art here anymore. this is it for my dear old friend ffc1cb.

i can be found in other places:

@cbge, as mentioned earlier,

@k0nstanta, an art blog dedicated solely to my and my wife's ocs,

@inquisimail, a dragon age ask blog that has become my dragon age sideblog in general,

and multiple other blogs, none of which are art related, but feel free to ask, if you’re curious.

thank you very much for reading all of this. i hope you have a wonderful day.

[anjelicawrites]

Was rereading the Aemond x reader x osferth tag and came across this:

When still single and drunk off her ass, reader bought a huge one, a 40 cm length and 10 cm girth with thick ridges; that had been a blackout purchase which she forgot about until the package was delivered. The thing has never been used; reader and Osferth love pulling Aemond’s leg, telling him that reader has used it on Osferth (”No one can fit it” “No, not with that attitude!”).

May we please have a whole oneshot talking about this? Cause this would be something I would do and it’s hilarious

Sorry for the long wait!!! I'm not sure I have hit the mark perfectly with this one, the muse didn't want to unstruck themselves from this particular idea!

Warnings: mention of dildo usage, a small reference to reader's abusive ex, kissing, suggestive situations.

Not really NSFW but def 18+ please!

You're sorting out the toys. You've already put the nastier stuff away, under lock and key, away from Aemond's eye, now you are sorting the rest of the stuff you and Osferth have managed to collect through the years; today is a day as good as any to throw out the toys that are too old to be used, so you decided to sit on the bedroom floor and start.

You are not listening to your surroundings, too intent in finishing the task ahead to notice Aemond's light steps coming behind you.

"Are you keeping that?" He asks, his soft voice makes you jump in surprise.

'That' is the 40 cm long and 10 cm girth dildo, with thick ridges you bought and never used.

You were drunk when you bought it, not too long after your abusive ex was out of the picture and you were still trying to sort your out your life; you didn't even remember the purchase and was surprised when the delivery man came knocking a couple of days after: that was the day you had a truly hearty laughter after years of pain.

"Why wouldn't I?" You ask, knowing full well where this conversation is heading. "Because you don't use it and Osferth does neither." "Again? That's slander, pretty boy!" "What's going on?"

Osferth's head pops from the door; you two don't even need to talk, not when you know he's seen the huge dildo.

"Aemond is slandering you." You smirk. "Is that so?" "He is saying I have never fucked you using this bad boy here." You say, grabbing the toy. "I've never seen you two use it!"

Osferth enters the room and hugs Aemond from behind.

"It was before you, my sweet prince." "Is that so?"

Aemond's legendary eyebrow arch makes an appearance.

"Why aren't you anymore? Hmm?"

Osferth nuzzles Aemond long neck to hide his smile.

"It had been a feat, sweetling." You say. "For how long you didn't walk straight Osferth?"

Osferth's head sits on Aemond's shoulder now.

"Almost two weeks. I truly felt it, it was great!" "If it was that great, why didn't you use it ever again? Hmm?"

Now it's Aemond's turn to nuzzle Osferth's neck and leave small kisses on the delicate skin.

"I had to drive him to work, he couldn't ride his bike, and preparing him took a very long time. It was hard work to make sure I didn't harm him, pretty boy." You say. "I still think you two are pulling my leg."

Aemond's voice is huskier, now that Osferth's hands is traveling from his chest to his lower tummy.

"You're offending me, Aemond." He says. "I demand compensation."

Aemond turns in Osferth's embrace and grabs his hips, forcing him to plaster himself against his body.

"I can give you all the compensation you need, beloved. Take your clothes off."

You see Osferth visibly swallow and his cheeks turn a dark shade of pink.

"Are you joining us?" Aemond asks you, barely turning his head. "Nope." You answer, spreading your legs. "Let me enjoy the view."

Poly taglist : @fan-goddess, @notyour-valentine, @anakiinx

[theapangea]

Night Out

Chapter: Boys Night Out Pt.1

Pairing/Characters: Steve Harrington x Reader, Dustin, Mike, Lucas

Summary: You and Steve have been dancing around each other for sometime now, neither of you wanting to make the first move. All your friends decide it is finally time for you both to confess your feelings.

A/N: This is just fluff stuff so a little different from what I've been posting for you little pervs lately... you know who I'm talking too lol. Ok so this series is based on those tv episodes that like everything is happening all at the same time but split into two episodes. I just love Steve in this and everyone pushing you two to be together!! Let me know what you think!!

*Also posted on AO3: Theapangea*

Part 2 | Part 3

“What about Y/N?” Dustin says out of the blue. The question was not posed to or at anyone, but definitely directed at the only boy old enough to date you.

“What about Y/N?” Steve is the first to answer, the words hanging from his lips. The room is instantly silent again as the three younger boys look between each other, quietly discussing who will speak first. Steve clearly still dumbfounded watching their interaction. 

Dustin begins to explain, this time in a more hush tone than before, not sure how Steve would take the answer, “You know…to get you out of this slump?” 

“What slump?” Steve refutes, deflecting the answer he already knows. He has been in a girl slump for sometime, no luck with Nancy or Robin or any other girl that would look his way. The only girl he hasn't tried to hit on in Hawkins is you. He wasn’t sure why. You were pretty and funny and smart but for some reason Steve couldn’t get the courage to actually ask you out. Plus you were best friends with his ex-girlfriend which didn’t help his situation. 

“We all see it, dude.” Mike added before tossing a cheese ball into the air to catch with his mouth. He misses by a mile, quickly grabbing another one to try again. Another miss.

“I don’t even know what you are talking about.” Steve leans back, propping his feet onto the coffee table. 

“We all see that you like her.” Lucas chimes in nonchalantly while flipping through the pages of a comic book.

“I do not .” Steve quickly protests. Crossing his arms, trying to deflect any proposed suspicion

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Dustin whispers as he throws a cheese ball at Steve’s head. Steve tries to swat it away but it hits his cheek leaving a small mark of cheese crumble. 

“You seriously just need to ask her out already.” Lucas urged Steve. Their eyes meeting for a brief moment before Steve adverts to look at the ceiling. 

“Steve, let me give you some advice from one man to another.” Dustin begins, moving forward on the couch, “Women want a man who is going to make the first move.”

“I can’t believe you just said that to me right now,” Steve confesses, a hand wiping the embarrassment from his face. 

“He’s right,” Mike agrees, still trying to catch the ball of cheese in his mouth. Another miss.

“Have any of you actually hit puberty yet?” Steve looks at the oblivious bunch. “I can’t believe I’m hanging out with a bunch of 12-year-olds.” He huffs, slumping lower into the seat.

“We’re 14 actually.” Dustin points out.

Steve lets out another huff, “Doesn’t make it any better, Henderson.” 

“We’re right though. You need to just ask her.” Lucas repeats, this time a little more demanding. 

Steve hesitates, “Okay, say that I did like someone…but she’s friends with your ex. It’s not necessarily the best situation.” 

“Who cares?” Mike declares with the other two boys in agreement. 

“ Women . Women care.” Steve retaliates, “Women care about that kind of stuff.”

“Look, the worst thing that she is going to say no.” Mike adds, finally catching the cheese ball in his mouth, his hands shooting up in triumph.

“Yeah, you’ve gone through enough rejection that it shouldn't hurt.” Dustin teases, the cocky smile plastered on his face.

“Thank you, Dustin.” Steve tries to shake off the comment.

Dustin’s eyes widened as he gets the bright idea, “You should call her now .” 

“Yeah, go call her.” Lucas agrees, putting the comic book down on the table, gesturing towards the phone. 

“I don’t know.” Steve leans forward in the old chair, the creaking shooting through the basement.

The uproar of encouragement quickly fills the room. All three boys are trying to convince Steve that he needs to confess his feelings for you. It was overwhelming to say the least. Steve really didn’t know what to do. Does he listen to them or does he just not do anything? Maybe it was time for Steve to tell you how he feels even if it does make things awkward between you and Nancy.

He must have been in his thoughts for too long as he sees Dustin crossing the room, picking up the phone, and dialing the number. Steve frantically getting up to grab the phone before someone answers. 

“Yeah. Hi I was wondering if Y/N was home?...ok…ok…yeah I will call them then…thank you…goodnight.” The conversation ends as soon as it begins. 

“She’s not home.” He lightly bangs his head against the wall. Dustin gives him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, not sure what to say. 

Was this a loss? What would he even say to you if you actually picked up? He never got the feeling that you liked him. You were normally cold towards him, rarely laughing at his hilarious jokes and always the first to put him on babysitting duty. He hated that you got under his skin, he hated that he didn’t know who you actually were. Hated that he never tried to know. Silently cursing to himself how much of an idiot he has been all these years.

“Damn.” Mike trails off, wiping the snack crumbs from his face, “We should go find her.”

“We are not going to go find her,” Steve injects before anyone else, clearly unamused by Mike's idea. 

“Why not?” Dustin pleads, tugging lightly on Steve's sleeve. 

“It’s stupid." He turns toward the young boy at his side, "This isn’t some movie. What if she doesn’t even like me?” Steve tries to explain the situation at hand as simply as possible. His feelings for you were complicated, never understanding how he felt towards you and never taking the time to realize that he actually really did like you in more ways that a friend would.

“Max says that she likes you.” Steve’s ears perk up at Lucas’ comment as he shoves a handful of cheese balls into his mouth.

Rushing over quickly to Lucas side, kneeling down beside the couch, “How does Max know that?”

“Well Max said that Robin said that she and Nancy talk about you and it seems that she likes you.” Lucas explains between chewing, every other word slightly muffled by the food.

“Dude you’re in.” Dustin beams, the look of joy washes over his face. 

Maybe you do really like Steve. Maybe Dustin, Mike, and Lucas were right and he just needed to finally ask you out. But when? He had the confidence to do it now but you were nowhere to be found. What if by tomorrow he is not able to gather the courage? What if you find someone else by then? 

Steve pushes himself onto the sofa, head in his hands, trying to make sense of this situation. "We don’t even know where she is.” 

“Well, Hawkins is pretty small. There isn’t much ground to cover.” Dustin explains, reaching for his jacket. The other boys following suit, standing, wait for Steve to make the final decision. Dustin dangling his car keys out in front of Steve's face.

“Fine.” Steve rises while chuckling at their enthusiasm, snatching the keys before leading the group out of the basement into the night. 

~~~

I'll be posting Part 2 tomorrow probably (don't hold me to this deadline)

Tell me what you think as I NEED validation!! love you!

[novatheassholeofacat]

Vent?

everyday at school is a struggle. I have to walk up 3-4 long flights of stairs everyday. My asthma makes it worse and by the time I get to my floor my Vision is blurry and I can't breathe. They won't let me ride the elevator nor will my mom write me a doctor's note. Then people in class make fun of me,leave me out of things,Barely give me any form of acknowledgment or love. All I get is insults and bruises. I do my best to play precision but people say i suck and that I don't know how to play. Im trying my best but no one ever cares or appreciates it.

Reading is horrible. When i read for the class every covers their ears and when i talk or even try and say how a trip of mine went,all I get is nobody asked,nobody cares,or people call me racial slurs and tell me to shut up. Base isn't better. People laugh at me for my actions and voice and make fun of me for my name,first,middle,and last. Not to mention they compare me to a president. In 8th its the same thing,I get called a nerd or people say that I cheat or that im dumb when I get a question wrong. they also yell at me for looking around or trying to interact with them. I get compliments from the teacher saying how smart I am but then I go and get something wrong and it makes me feel like a FUCKING retard. I can hardly draw or talk about things I love due to people judging me and showing me art that I cant compete with. Im constantly called ugly and that i cant take a joke. I'll cry in my room and when I try to talk to my mom:

"You're too sensitive"

im not trying to be. Everyday when I come home I'm met with demands and things I'm forced to do. They constantly tell me to shave and that my butt is big. They constantly say my hair looks horrible and that I need to change it. They never Let me express myself of have a stuffed animal because they say I'm too old. They make fun of me because I don't sleep alone yet. My room is full of pests and there's weird sounds in the basement and I don't even have a room yet at dads. Im scared of being alone or forgotten yet nobody takes it seriously. Im always covered in scratches, cuts,bruises. I try and tell them i cant help my emotions or my actions but they say I can. Everyone always makes fun of my body type and the fact I don't have a phone. I constantly do my best to protect my girlfriend and make sure she knows she's loved but people keep touching her in places she doesn't like and making her uncomfortable. I hold her close to me. I get made fun of because I will hiss when agitated. I don't know why I do it. I bite all my nails until they're bloody and I rip out chunks of my own mouth. My body aches and hurts and bleeds. I constantly get reprimanded for not wanting to talk or socialize. They constantly say that I worry too much or that I only want to be on electronics.

THATS NOT WHY

Anything could happen when I'm away from home and they always force me to go to places that I don't like. I hate public places because I'm scared. They're too loud and overwhelming and I always need to buy something so i dont lose my mind. I have so much stuff in piles and containers. Im scared someone will get rid of them or throw out something I hold dear to me. They ruin my collections and even my creations. They stomp on my hopes and dreams and they don't even support me and my girlfriend. They say I'm a hoarder. I constantly buy things everyday to try and fill holes in my heart that were left from loss,betrayal, and the fact they get rid of things when I'm not looking. They always use a hostile tone with me. People make fun of me for not liking loud noises when they bring back trauma. Whenever someone is rude to me it always feels like !y fault and that I'm the reason they're like that. Ive left teachers worried and shocked asking where the happy little girl they used to teach is.

SHES FUCKING GONE

i used to be so trustful and open always staying positive and having people that protect me from mean people. Now I'm the bully. Ive constantly been insulting people,sending suicide threats and even swearing to teachers. Ive been hardly able to do things anymore without crying or relying on someone else. People don't want to socialize with me anymore and they push me away. I hurt people for my own liking and say meaan things about them. I do my best to keep my anger in check along with my emotions but I'm never able to do so. Everyday I come on tumblr and talk to tons of strangers about my life in hopes that one day ill finally be loved. I just want to be held and told that everything will be okay. I want to make money for this to support my family and also receive badges to to the dopamine I get from collecting things. My way of affection is physical touch or putting my mouth on people but when i do that,I get called fucking disgusting, people call me an animal, and people always ship me with that person.

IM STRUGGLING OUT HERE YET YOU DONT FUCKING APPRECIATE A THING I DO

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Reading Little Lucky AU while being on Thriller Bark has me rolling just imagining a small child running around. One who's seen enough crazy stuff go down to maybe not even think zombies or talking skeletons are that scary in the first place. Either that or she acclimates pretty quickly since everyone (+ I imagine she'd be with the main party rather than Nami/Usopp/and Chopper?) who's not freaking out over everything is with her.

If she were to somehow get caught (the group is rampaging even worse than before) Perona finding them the cutest thing ever. Then getting absolutely offended when her silly laugh gets called out. I imagine Moria only laughs more if she does the same to him. while Hogback (if Lucky calls it out in a nicer way like saying she likes their laughs because they're silly) asks Chindry why she can't be more like that only to get the meanest comment yet and Lucky is like, "that's not nice 😡" and it suddenly becomes a fight between Perona and Hogback on who gets the shadow. Perona may have been offended, but she's freaking adorable and Hogback needs at least one person who'll be nice to him in the mansion lmao. The only reason I could see absalom wanting the shadow is to maybe try distracting Lola from actively chasing him with the idea of a child but I also don't think he'd want to add fuel that that fire so he'd maybe make a gross comment about when she's older but, like in your Strays AU post, Perona would kick his ass for it.

I almost wonder if Moria might be hesitant to take a kid's, especially such a small ones, shadow. Doesn't seem like it'd make a very useful underling and honestly, it's not the most boring thing in the world having a kid around (Moria taking care of and playing with a young Perona makes my heart melt it's so cute) and the others can always take care of anything he's too lazy to. Plus, if she ever starts whining about missing her old crew, they can just round up the zombies with their shadows, kid probably won't know the difference. So... yea. Not like she can cause much of any harm anyway.

And suddenly, Lucky has control over her own little zombie hoard that aren't exactly top fighters but will at least keep her away from the Srawhats. Honestly, the zombies hoard at her beck and command is probably the only reason she isn't actively demanding the Strawhats shadows back 24/7. It's like a bunch of new friends to play with and Perona lets her play with her cute zombies and throws a pretty sweet tea party, so at least she's safe?

I also love Kaku kidnapping her while being like, "I may commit terrible atrocities, but this is clearly child endangerment." Peak content 😂

I haven't finished that arc yet, but I have a couple of ideas rolling around for it

I also am leaning towards her being in the main party, great minds think alike I suppose. When Lucky doesn't know how to react to something, her first go to is to see how Luffy is reacting and go from there, so she's honestly having a great old time. If Luffy isn't scared, she won't be either.

Perona absolutely snatches her up. She loves cute things, and the second that Little Lucky calls one of her ghosts cute, she's making plans to go get her.

I'm imagining this interaction between Perona and Moria where she strolls in and asks where he keeps all of her old clothing from when she was a kid. He asks why she could possibly want any of that stuff now, and she just holds up Little Lucky like 'I found this baby and I'm keeping her'. Moria recalls how he got Perona and nods. That is how children are typically acquired in his experience. The clothes are in that closet over there, have fun you two!

I am going to give Absalom a tiny bit of credit and say that I don't think he would make a pass at a four year old, but he may approach her to ask if she wants to be the flower girl at his and Nami's wedding. Perona would reluctantly agree to this because he has a point, she would make an adorable flower girl.

Little Lucky is demanding to know why Nami didn't tell her she was getting married, and Nami has to find a child-friendly way to explain that she is here against her will. Sanji comes in and has to take a couple of minutes to take pictures of Little Lucky in her flower girl dress before getting down to business and beating the shit out of Absalom.

I think it would be funny to let Little Lucky have an all around fun time in Thriller Bark to contrast how shitty it goes for adult Lucky in Lucky Break.

And yes, Kaku may be an assassin, but he has standards lmao

[hello-nichya-here]

Do you think Michael ever hooked up with some of his more famous female friends (Diana Ross, Liz Taylor, Brooke Shields)? Kind of crazy that the accusations made people forget how many women he had been very close with. One day everyone is wondering if he's about marry one of them, the next they're convinced he's gay

Considering Michael himself said that, to him, Diana was a friend, as well as his mother and lover, and that Liz then described her own friendship with him in sort of the same way, one thing we know for sure is that, regardless of what did or did not happen:

Michael clearly had a lot of love for them both, and again, he was very clear on it absolutely having crossed the line from platonic to romantic, at least on his end, but he was just never the type to talk too much about his personal life, and I tend to avoid saying "They totally hooked up" unless he or the woman in question states, very clearly, that it happened.

With Brooke Shields, it was far more clear-cut: they dated. Michael said as much. I know Brooke didn't give a direct answer when asked, only that they both had crushes on each other at some point, but we need to take into account that:

1 - She knew how Michael was. Talking too much about stuff regarding his personal life like that wasn't exactly the way to stay in his good graces.

2 - Brooke had quite a messy life and difficult relationship with the media too - mainly with regards to how over-sexualized she had been from a young age. There was a playboy photoshoot of her when she was TEN YEARS OLD. It's not at all surprising that now that she had any say on what happened in her life, she didn't want to draw too much attention to anything private because the media would take her over-sexualized image as permission to be super invasive

3 - Even without confirming they were more than friends, she was still asked insane shit like "Have you ever seen Michael's dick? What does it look like?" Who could blame her for not wanting to get into the topic of them dating? God knows when he married Lisa Marie the media was two seconds away from demanding a sex-tape as "proof" that their marriage was real, they would have done the same to Brooke.

And here's the thing with the media (and part of the public) being so quick to treat the acusations against Michael as 100% true even with the supposed "evidence" for it literally being laughed out of court MULTIPLE times through the decades: they already thought he was gay.

Michael wasn't really interested in pretending to be something he wasn't, and unlike a lot of famous men, he had more important things to do than to try and hook up with as many hot women as possible and then make sure everybody knew it. Whenever he DID flirt, hook up with, or date someone, he was in no rush to let the world know. Quite the contrary actually, because people would take it as permission to meddle in his life and relationships.

And that immediately made him stand out because HE WAS MICHAEL JACKSON! He was THE guy that could get any woman, famous or not, to throw herself at him. Even his far less famous brothers did it! It was the norm, and because of that, people simply could not accept that he WAS attracted to women - after all, he wasn't treating them like trophies to make other people jealous!

Half the times they only questioned him about the women in his life because they KNEW he wouldn't give a direct answer, both due to a desire for his own privacy and out of respect for them (and, of course, because him being "taken" would ruin the fantasy some fans had of dating him). They only ever asked to use that lack of concrete answer to go "See? Still no girlfriend or wife in sight despite being surround by so many hot, famous women! He MUST be gay!"

Hollywood has sinonymous of scandals, and sometimes full on crimes, for decades now and the media NEEDS that so they can make money. They NEED those mega stars to start out seemingly as perfect and wholesome, only to then be "exposed" as frauds, addicts, cheaters, criminals, whatever. It doesn't even have to be true, it just has to shock.

That's why they were calling him racist for "bleaching his skin" even after he explained that he had vitiligo. That's why they were constantly trying to act like he and his sister Janet were fighting once she became a star. That's why they made up absurd stuff like "Michael Jackson is gonna have a sex-change" out of the blue.

They wanted a scandal that could ruin him, and they finally found something that would do the trick - and then still had to watch him be adored by BILLIONS, even after he was long gone, even after his image had been tarnished.

That's why you still see bullshit stories "exposing" him coming up every few years. It's the media going "YOU CAN'T LIKE HIM ANYMORE, WE REVOKED YOUR PERMISSION TO, REMEMBER?"

[locatislunaticolupin]

Day Ten: Keyhole

Written for day ten (of october) of @remadoramicrofics. 642 words. Also available on Ao3.

Their house could get really quiet and solemn. Teddy, as young as he was, was able to listen close enough to know when it wasn’t a quiet day before stomping down the hallway, demanding breakfast and clashing his toys together. On quiet days, he slid on his socks towards the kitchen, where he found one of his parents (usually mama, but sometimes da), pancake batter in hand and finger up to their lips.

On those days, mama opened all of the cottage’s doors and windows so she could keep an eye on Teddy and an ear on da; da put on the gramophone, soft where it was usually fun, and Teddy ran from the house. He’d take Bongui and Tammuz to Little Forest and spend the times between meals there, making hares sprint and birds fly away. Despite the cicadas, the birds, the cows, the dogs, the crickets, the quiet wouldn’t quite let him go, clinging instead to his sweater, his boots and his hair. So Teddy screamed louder, jumped harder, attempted to make the world shake and wake up. On quiet days, the world was too soft and too adult, like the old ladies dressed in all black or the visits to the cemetery. So when he peeked through that keyhole on a quiet day, he knew he’d grown up, a little. That he’d lost something, or maybe gained something, and now couldn’t go back.

It’d been a quiet day, but it had also been a rainy day. Teddy hadn’t been able to escape the stifling, dusty, timeless silence of it all and he was restless. He’d woken up and da had been there, jazz and candles and finger to mouth and water against glass, and Teddy, who had been looking forward to skipping school, had grumpily thrown himself on the couch and let the quiet settle on his shoulders and his frown. Da had let him have breakfast where he was, had kissed his hair and brushed it back with a warm, calloused hand, and then had taken a tray to the exotic territory of the master bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Teddy looked at his chocolate milk. Then he looked at the door. An adventure was an adventure, wasn’t it? Weren’t parents’ bedrooms just as mysterious as caves in between a tree’s roots? He got up, quiet as a mouse, and avoided the places where the wood creaked, even on quiet days but especially on rainy days, sliding on his socks. Bongui and Tammuz hid him while he held his breath and looked through the keyhole, hands away from the door just in case.

It hadn’t been the first time Teddy saw blood (with Bongui around, he’d seen his fair share of dead animals and what his mama called “crime scenes.” And she’d know! She was an Auror and one of the best) but it was the first time he saw blood on his parents and he wasn’t gonna cry, because he wasn’t a baby and his mama was the strongest in the whole world, so she’d be fine, but she didn’t look so tough under da’s quiet hands, even as she smiled and tried to make him laugh.

(She did manage to make him smile. His da smiled a lot, especially when mama and Teddy did silly stuff like grumpily throw themselves on the couch or recoil from the medicine with an affronted that’s disgusting!).

They were quiet like an old lady dressed in black and quiet like a secret and quiet like they usually weren’t. The gramophone played on and the rain drummed outside and Bongui and Tammuz’s nails were loud on the wooden floor. Teddy moved away from the door, careful and quiet.

On the next quiet day, he stayed indoors. Maybe the quiet would get smaller, he thought, if there were more people to carry its weight.

[legolasghosty]

Yeah @innytoes has captured me with fae magic and now I'm hooked on her Kidnapped by the Fae AU so... I'm sorry.

Alex couldn't sleep. Like he actually physically couldn't fall asleep. Everyone else had gone to bed hours ago. Even Willie had drifted off on the couch, their breaths coming out in little adorable hums. But Alex couldn't drift off, no matter how hard he tried.

When he closed his eyes, all he could see were the dark trees, the twinkling lights, the swirling figures, the constant demands for faster, Faster, FASTER! as his hands flew over the drums. And his own body, helpless to do anything but obey. To serve his master. With pure devotion and without question.

Each time the fae went to sleep, Alex never could. The feeling of suddenly having control of his own limbs was too odd. Too unfamiliar. Too much.

And now it was like that all the time. If he wanted to stand up, he could. If he wanted to stay exactly where he was, no invisible strings stopped him. It was incredible. It was freeing. It was terrifying.

Because with no one to tell him what to do and where to go, no intangible hand on the back of his neck directing him, how could he know if he was doing it right?

The Molinas had been kind so far. They'd allowed them to live in their garage, eat their food, even loaned them some of the father's old clothes to wear. They'd shown them the magic of new technology, though that wasn't always the smoothest lesson. Alex grimaced at the memory of when sparks had suddenly begun to fly from the microwave because Luke had put that...tinfoil? stuff inside with his food. The Molinas had been upset but hadn't hurt them over it. They'd been kind. But the fae had been kind at first too.

At first, Alex had wondered if he'd died, alone in the forest, and was in some form of afterlife. He was offered food and fine clothing and music by the effervescent beings that inhabited this new plane. They'd enjoyed his drumming and hadn't seemed to mind when his eyes drifted to a young man with dark hair and a smile that made Alex's heart skip a beat.

They had been kind and welcoming to him. Until he made a mistake.

Things changed after that. Who was to say that wouldn't happen again? That the Molinas wouldn't run out of patience with him and he wouldn't become a prisoner and an outcast yet again.

Alex knew it would happen. It had happened with his first two homes, why not this one? So if he wanted to stay here, with his family and his lover, he couldn't make any mistakes. Couldn't give them any reason to throw him away like the used toy he was. But how could he know what was wrong if no one was directing his every move?

He couldn't. So he was doomed.

"Alex?"

Alex jumped, almost losing his footing on the dark tiles of the house roof. He whirled around to see Julie, the girl who had first found them, staring at him through an open, second-story window.

"What are you doing out on the roof?" she asked, blinking rapidly.

Oh. Well, this must be it. Alex thought he could hold out a bit longer.

"I'm so sorry, I know I shouldn't be on the house," he said quickly, holding out hope that maybe she would at least let him stay till morning. "I couldn't sleep and I didn't want to wake anyone and I knew there weren't any bedrooms around here so I just... I'm sorry-"

"Woah, slow down," Julie said, cutting him before he could say anything else. "No need to be sorry, you're not doing anything wrong, I just... wasn't expecting to see you sitting on the roof of my house at 3 am."

"Oh," Alex said, because he wasn't sure what else to say. She wasn't upset?

"Also, I know you have the whole-" Julie waved a hand around helplessly, "-magic thing going on, but hanging out on the roof isn't exactly the safest spot."

Alex shrugged. "I didn't think anyone would care," he replied honestly. Willie might be a little sad if he fell off the roof and broke his neck, but they'd get over it. There were so many people in the world to love, Willie wouldn't be alone for long.

Julie frowned. "Of course we would care if you got hurt," she said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. "You did see how freaked my dad got the other day when Reggie burned himself on the stove, right?" She took a deep breath, then added, "You guys may not have come into our lives in a very...traditional way, but you're family now."

Alex was helpless to do anything but stare at her. Because, well, 'family' by blood wasn't something he had much respect for, but the way she said it felt more like when Luke called them that, back before they escaped. Like it actually meant something real.

"Note to self, Alex has even bigger trust issues than I thought," Julie muttered around a yawn. Then she offered him a hand. "Come on, we can crash on the couches downstairs and watch a movie or something. Just chill out for a bit."

It felt like a trap. A personal invitation into someone's space had always been a trap in the fae realm. But...maybe that wasn't how it was here? At least not with Julie?

Alex bit his lip, but accepted her hand and clambered in through the open window.

"Come on, I need to show you Dirty Dancing," Julie decided, keeping hold of his hand as she closed the window and led him downstairs. "I think you'll love it!"

And Alex did. Or at least he loved the first 30 minutes of it that he was awake for.

[bapydemonprincess]

A Comparison

"So... Wot's it like?" Mey quietly brought up.

Bardroy was sitting cross-legged looking over the newspaper and was not looking up.

"Wot's wot like?" He answered, monotone, unbothered.

"Y'know..... y'knoooow...."

....

Bardroy looked up, not at her but out into space, as his bushy old eyebrows practically flattened over his eyesockets.

He sighed.

"No, I don' know, Mey," He went on, "please, by all means, explain wot the 'ell yer tryin' t'ask."

"Ohhhh," He heard the young woman groan. The same type of frustrated noise she made when she'd make a big mess on accident.

"Y'know exactly wot I mean, you do! Don't try an' deny it now, Bard!"

"Well, there could be a dozen or so things you could be referrin' to, Mey, an' I'm up in arms, knowin' if I get it wrong you'll be even madder, so-"

"YOU AN' LAU, BARD!!!"

Mey had shot up from her seat, making the old wooden chair groan obnoxiously as it was pushed back, while she banged her fists down on the old wooden table out of pure unbridled frustration.

"...."

"...."

Mey, frozen in her table pounding pose, was turning red.

Bardroy slowly tilted his head. Slowly. Verrrry slowly. To look at her from the corner with one very knowing eye.

"Wot about us, Mey,"

His tone had changed to demanding, if subtley.

He wanted her to elaborate now on this.

...

Or else.

"O-Oh, I- I mean-.."

Mey Rin looked ready to shrink to the size of a mouse, straightening up at once and both hands curled in and pressed at her mouth.

"I-I.. I just... w-wondered, is all.. H-How you two... how.."

Bardroy sighed louder, and straightened up himself. Uncrossing his legs, he turned to throw the newspaper onto the table after he'd sloppily folded it back up.

"Mey, fer th'love of christ, do I even look like I can go into details 'bout that sorta thing?! C'MON now!"

And even his face was getting red. Maybe even more than hers!

"O-Ohh, I'm sorry, Bard, I really am!!" Mey cried, and looked down at her hands as she started twiddling her fingers as she carried on rambling.

"You guys have been together for goin' on two months now, you 'ave, so.. s-so I figure that was long enough that you'd be all nice and comfortable with talkin' about those things, you would... Like.. L-Like how me an' Sebastian are, you know?? I mean, I wouldn't go on about it with any old person I'd just met, no I wouldn't, but-"

"'OLD ON NOW, WOT THE 'ELL ARE YOU GOIN' ON ABOUT, NOW??"

Bardroy roared as he interrupted the maid's monologue about... her and Sebastian's own affair for some reason...??? He hadn't the faintest why she'd say such a thing.. even if to one of the servants!!

Mey Rin blinked as if waking from a daze.

Then promptly gave him a look.

"W-What d-do you mean what am I goin' on about, I- I'm talkin' about our courtin' an' the cuddlin' an'-an'... y'know, all the lovey stuff couples do!!!"

She looked so offended that he'd interrupt her explanation and not understand why she was curious about his own current standing with his lover!

Bard just blinked, frustration becoming bewilderment... and then turning into what must be even MORE embarrassment.

Oh christ this girl... THAT'S what she was askin'?? THAT??? N-NOT... WHAT I THOUGHT...

Bardroy once again turned away in his chair, hunched in all the way, and shoved his face into both his hands.

FEELING the BURNING of his RED FACE.

"...Bard...??" Mey asked. Just.. confused now.

"Bardroy, Mey, it's time to end your break n-"

Sebastian took a step into the kitchen, only to get a very peculiar view of Mey Rin standing up, slightly reaching over the table as if hesitantly wanting to touch Bard. And Bard.. was hunched in with his hands covering his face. Which looked all red for some reason...

Had the American been weeping or was he embarrassed??

"Did something... happen here?" The butler cautiously asked.

"U-Um, well.." Mey trailed off as if she wasn't sure...

And Bardroy sighed.

"Nope. Not a thing. Justa... lil' misunderstandin'..."

But the redder and sweatier his face became, the more Sebastian had a feeling it wasn't so little.

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

I'm always the one that's called a Negative Nancy who has to imagine problems for us, but I'm also always the one who ends up being right. I'm NOT a pessimist. I am a realist with too much life experience to view the world in any other way than what it is.

I told Dave at the last motel that we cannot bring too much stuff into the room because it'll be hell to clean up after. It'll be a bitch to move all that shit once we're eventually kicked out. Well, we got told 3 days before we had to leave, that we had to go, and he conveniently couldn't manage to help me or Bethy in moving shit, and then conveniently wasn't there the day the whole drama went down with the van losing all gas, the battery dying, and then the place we paid to move to, telling us we couldn't stay cuz they claimed Dave stole pillows when we stayed there a year ago.

We get to this place by pure fortune cuz of Bethy's brother's generosity, and Bethy and I move the necessities up 3 floors by ourselves. He finally comes along and insists on bringing even more shit into the room. Bring more stuff in again and again.

After almost a month, he throws a tantrum over the water pressure in the shower and demands to be moved to a better room, only to get a much smaller room for the same price, with worse AC, worse water pressure, no hot water, a TV too far away from the only chair he has access to, and the beds even smaller than the others. And he STILL kept bringing more stuff inside the room when I told him we don't need even more stuff here. Stop bringing in plastics. Stop bringing in more clothes. He's been talking about getting the roasting pan up here(despite how we never have meat to put in it). Don't bring up the air fryer or the coffee pot. They aren't allowed anyway since there are no sprinklers or fire alarms in this place.

But NOOOOOOO, he couldn't be bothered to listen to me.

So here we are.

We get a call from the front desk. We took too long to get to it so we don't know what it was for. I was trying to sleep, and something told me I should probably get up, but I've been so sick as of late that I'm exhausted all the time for no good reason.

A few minutes later, a bunch of guys knock on the door. Dave left this room absolutely filled with shit this morning. Not only is there too much stuff, but he just tosses things wherever the hell he wants with no care as to how it impedes us(and mom, who is disabled). They say they need to check the AC cuz it's old af. I sleep in front of the AC on the floor. I have to move so much shit all over the room in record time so they can have room to do whatever. Including garbage cuz 4 ppl really make a lot of garbage in little time, and Bethy is at school now so it's just me who is of able body to do anything.

The room looks like a damn mess. It's all Dave's shit and mostly his garbage on the other side of the room. All stuff he brought in and couldn't even put in an orderly fashion. So they come in, look around and remove the front of the AC, make notes, say a bunch of stuff in a language I can't understand or even place, and then leave. IDK if they plan to come back, but I cleaned up what I could as quickly as I could anyway.

I'm winded, my throat is killing me, and I'm still fucking sick. I should not have to spend my day cleaning up after Dave's messes so suddenly.

So anyway, mom and I are preparing for bad news about not being able to stay here cuz the state of this room was not up to par. We handle our own garbage just fine. We keep our side of the room pretty decently set imo. Why can't Dave be bothered to do the same? He's always forcing Bethy to do shit as if she's the only other person here and he doesn't eat, sleep, and shit like the rest of us.

I really wish it could be as simple as kicking his ass out, but in situations like ours, it just isn't viable. And it sucks.