#coffee marke forecast

[mordormr]

Navigating the Coffee Market: Trends and Insights Shaping the Industry

The coffee market is projected to be valued at USD 132.13 billion in 2024 and is anticipated to grow to USD 166.39 billion by 2029, with a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 4.72% over the forecast period (2024-2029)

The global coffee market is not just a beverage industry; it’s a dynamic ecosystem shaped by consumer preferences, sustainability efforts, and economic shifts. In recent years, the industry has undergone significant transformations, making it crucial for businesses to stay ahead of the trends. Here's a closer look at the forces driving the coffee market, backed by insights from recent market research.

1. Specialty Coffee is Here to Stay

Increased demand for specialty coffee is a major trend shaping the market. Consumers, particularly millennials and Gen Z, are showing a growing preference for premium, single-origin, and ethically sourced coffee. According to recent reports, the specialty coffee segment is expected to grow faster than the conventional coffee market. This shift is fueled by a desire for unique flavors, transparency in sourcing, and sustainability in production.

Why This Matters: Businesses need to differentiate their offerings by embracing high-quality beans, transparent supply chains, and certifications such as Fair Trade or Organic. Coffee shops and brands that align with these values will continue to capture the attention of discerning consumers.

2. Sustainability is a Key Driver

Sustainability has emerged as a critical factor in consumer decision-making. With climate change affecting coffee-growing regions, both producers and retailers are focusing on sustainability initiatives. Market research shows that eco-friendly packaging, waste reduction, and support for sustainable farming practices are becoming non-negotiables for modern coffee drinkers.

Why This Matters: Brands that prioritize sustainable sourcing, promote fair wages for farmers, and use environmentally friendly packaging will not only meet consumer expectations but also contribute to long-term industry resilience.

3. The Rise of Ready-to-Drink (RTD) Coffee

Ready-to-drink (RTD) coffee products are experiencing a surge in popularity. Whether cold brew, iced coffee, or canned lattes, RTD beverages offer convenience without compromising on taste. Market research forecasts that this segment will witness substantial growth in the coming years, driven by busy lifestyles and the demand for premium, portable coffee options.

Why This Matters: Businesses can capitalize on this trend by expanding their product lines to include RTD offerings. Brands should focus on innovation, experimenting with new flavors, functional ingredients like added protein or vitamins, and sustainable packaging to appeal to health-conscious and eco-aware consumers.

4. Growing Importance of E-commerce in Coffee Sales

The shift toward online shopping has made e-commerce a critical sales channel for the coffee industry. From subscription services for premium beans to direct-to-consumer models, online platforms offer convenience, variety, and customization. Market research highlights that the pandemic accelerated the growth of e-commerce in the coffee sector, a trend that shows no signs of slowing down.

Why This Matters: Coffee brands need to optimize their online presence, offering seamless shopping experiences, personalized recommendations, and flexible subscription models. Engaging content, loyalty programs, and sustainable shipping practices will further enhance customer retention in this digital era.

5. Health-Conscious Consumers Seek Functional Coffee

Consumers are increasingly gravitating toward coffee with added health benefits. Functional coffee products, such as those infused with adaptogens, collagen, or superfoods, are gaining traction among health-conscious individuals. This trend aligns with the broader wellness movement, which encourages consumers to seek beverages that offer more than just a caffeine kick.

Why This Matters: Coffee brands and retailers should explore partnerships with wellness influencers and functional ingredient suppliers. Offering coffee blends with added health benefits can differentiate a brand in the competitive landscape and cater to a growing segment of health-driven consumers.

6. Regional Coffee Markets Gaining Attention

While North America and Europe have long been dominant in the coffee market, regions like Asia-Pacific and Latin America are emerging as key growth areas. In countries such as China, Japan, and South Korea, coffee consumption is on the rise, with a growing number of specialty coffee shops and premium brands entering these markets.

Why This Matters: Global coffee brands should focus on expanding into these high-growth regions, adapting their offerings to local tastes and preferences. Understanding regional consumer behavior and leveraging local partnerships can unlock new opportunities for growth.

7. Technology in Coffee Production and Sales

From precision farming techniques to AI-driven coffee recommendations, technology is transforming the coffee industry. Market research suggests that innovation in coffee production methods, such as climate-resilient crops and automated brewing solutions, is crucial to the industry's future.

Why This Matters: Investing in technological advancements that improve production efficiency, enhance product quality, and personalize consumer experiences will be key to staying competitive in a tech-driven market

Conclusion: A Future Brewed with Innovation and Sustainability

The coffee market is evolving at a rapid pace, shaped by trends like sustainability, premiumization, health consciousness, and technological innovation. Brands that are proactive in adapting to these changes will continue to thrive in this dynamic environment. By focusing on the quality of their products, the ethics of their sourcing, and the convenience of their delivery, companies can meet the growing demands of today’s coffee consumers.

The future of coffee looks bright for businesses that prioritize innovation and sustainability, creating a richer experience for coffee lovers around the globe

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream confessing to you. 

AN: Wow this one was long too because I got carried away.

Mark Lee

Mark would be the type that wanted to keep it quiet and private. Just the two of you. In your apartment, over two cups of coffee. It was a peaceful moment where in you two are enjoying the peace when Mark couldn't stop himself from staring at you. He likes you ever since you two were in high school. He doesn't want to confess because he's afraid of ruining your friendship. But in that moment, he just feels like doing it. So he holds your hand, starting with something like, "There's something I wanted to say," and then before you could say anything, he tells you that he likes you. You'll be flustered with the sudden confession, but only smiles, confessing to him that you also like him too. He'll be happy to hear your confession and once the tension is gone, you two will start teasing each other, asking when did you two start liking each other.

Huang Renjun

Renjun would do it during a late night walk from a coffee shop run. You two just finished a huge school paper and are now on the way to your place because Renjun wanted to make sure that you get home before he goes to his place. Your neighborhood has always been this quiet, making Renjun nervous. This is the moment that he's been waiting for. For months, he has been pining over you and it was a risk for him to confess to you, but he just wanted to tell you so that he wanted to know if he should stop pining over you or not. So when he grabs your hand, you were surprised, but Renjun acts like it was nothing even swaying it lightly. His hands never left yours until you two reached your place, that's where he confesses to you about his feelings. Surprised, you weren't able to answer his confession because he ran away quickly! (You texted him that you like him too.)

Lee Jeno

It's been bugging him for months! Jeno's pining for you is so hard to watch especially for his friends, they think that he should just confess to you because they don't like seeing Jeno's love strucked pining over you and the other one is that, they know that you like him back! (they're just keeping it as a secret.) So after many convincing, Jeno mustered up the courage. He said at first, he'll do it through text but he couldn't find the right word to do so, so he asked you if he can call and you said yes. As soon as you said hi, Jeno bursts. Literally confessed to you so fast that you weren't able to pick up anything other than, "I like you." he seems so out of breath after the confession but apologizes to you because of the sudden confession but you only laughed it off and told him that you like him too!

Lee Donghyuck

I feel like Haechan follows some superstitions like when you confessed to someone during the first fall of snow, they'll be yours forever something like that. Haechan thinks that it's true that's why he asked you to meet him during the first snow, as predicted by the weather forecast. You met him at the school's playground and Haechan thinks that you look cute in your winter coat, even placing his scarf around you so that you'll be more warm. He looks at the sky and then thinks that any minute now, it's going to snow but it didn't. He'll ask you to wait for a few minutes glancing at the sky once again, making you realized what's happening. You told him that he doesn't need the first snow to happen, because you like him too. Haechan would be in relief to hear those words from you, you two will end up laughing because of the situation. When he walked you home, that's when the snow fell, making you two be in awe with the weather. 

Na Jaemin

Oh I think that Jaemin would confess to you at the spur of the moment. It'll be on a vacation trip. The two of you are sitting on the chairs, watching the waves crash while the moon glisten on the ocean. You two are just sitting there, talking about the future and something deep, like what would happen to you and your friend group once you guys graduated and you two are just laughing and being silly, until Jaemin stops and glances at you. That's when it caught you off-guard that he's been staring for too long. "Do you know that I've always liked you?" and you tried to laugh it off, telling him to stop fooling around until he says that he's serious. You two will have a staring contest, his eyes looking at you lovingly. Waiting for an answer from you. Instead of answering him, you pulled Jaemin for a kiss, which surprised him but he only smile as he leans to kiss you once more. 

Zhong Chenle

"After this, there's something important that I wanted to say to you," would probably a hint Chenle will give you. He's the type who'll confess after a huge event, let's say, you're the main star of a musical prod in your university. You've been working hard and have been practicing nonstop for the show, and then Chenle told you that he's going to say something to you after you finish the show because he wants you to focus on the prod first. But it distracts you more! because you're curious about what he wants to say to you! You tried to ask Chenle about it but he brushes it off. So at the day of your final show, Chenle shows up with a bouquet of flowers on his hands. It'll be just the two of you, somewhere backstage, hidden from the crowd. He'll say first that he's proud of you, and that he likes you which made you cry, overwhelmed with joy. 

Park Jisung

You know those romance high school anime where they confess during graduation? Yeah that's how Jisung confesses to you. It'll be during your graduation because it's a risk for Jisung. It's now or never, so if you even rejected him, at least he won't be seeing you anymore. He'll be the type to text you to meet him at your classroom or maybe at the school's rooftop (if you guys are allowed there lmao.) When you reached the meeting place, you'll see him with his diploma, wearing his school uniform and you'll be caught off-guard at how incredibly handsome Jisung is. He'll approach you and then it took him a minute to say word, eventually, stumbling through his confession. "I don't need your answer yn, I just want to tell you I like you before we part ways." he added. And instead of answering him, you gave Jisung a hug, surprising him with your action. 

[revasserium]

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT WITH OMI OMI PLSSSSSS I LOVE YOU

@swaggerpear replied to your post “at first sight ft. kageyama, daichi, sugawara,...”:

BOKUTOOO PLEASEEE

at first sight, pt 2

ft. sakusa, bokuto, iwaizumi, oikawa

sakusa.

the first time he sees you, he knows you’re the one. he breathes easier, the air sitting better, sitting sweeter in his lungs — the persistent itch beneath his skin fades to a dull buzz, and when you turn your eyes onto him amidst the flash of cameras and the clamor of reporters, the whole world goes silent. when was the last time that’s happened for him? he can’t remember. you smile, and world is beautiful, irresistible white noise. he smiles back. later, when he manages to find you in the swell of people clamoring to interview him, he asks if you’re new to this — he hasn’t seen you on the press circuit before, and you tell him that you are. that once, you’d dreamed of taking pictures of beautiful things; he cocks his head and smirks, his mask for once pulled down to his chin — the words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself, “so you must be glad you found me, then.” he doesn’t have time to feel mortified because then, you’re laughing, the sound trickling over his skin like rose water, like piano music, and he shivers beneath it’s touch. you nod, blushing, the color so darling against your cheeks he want to lean in and kiss you. he does do that — but not till much later, and when he does, he finds you smiling. he finds that he likes the taste of your smile, too. and that of all the things he’d thought about kissing before now — of how unsanitary it might be, of how awkward, he finds that he really doesn’t mind because, well… it’s you.

bokuto.

the first time he sees you, he know you’re the one. he knows with the certainty of a rising sun. he knows like the receding tide, like the changing of seasons — he knows with the self-assuredness of weathermen forecasting the coming of monsoon season, just along the coast, where the beaches are wide and the sands are hot. he knows, he knows, he knows. he chases down the entire length of corridor at the sports clinic, trips over his own feet, faceplants before picking himself up, asks for your name, your number, what you’re specializing in, feels his stomach leap out of his mouth when you tell him that it’s sports medicine, can’t help but notice the way you’re blushing, the pink kissing across the tops of your cheeks the way he wishes he could. and he does — about a week and a half later, cupping your face in his rough-hewn hands, all thick skin and calluses from spike-practice, but you trace them over with your soft fingers later and tell him that you love them — love the way they feel against your skin, love the stories they tell, the strength they hold, the hours and hours of determination they are a mark of. three weeks in, he tells akaashi he thinks he’s going to marry you. three months in, he pops the question. you’re laughing and crying, both, when you say yes. later, he’d proudly brag to all his teammates that he’d caught an angel in the palms of his hands, brag that it took less than a second for him to literally fall for you, because hey, it must’ve hurt for you to fall from heaven, so he should have to hurt a little too.

iwaizumi.

the first time he sees you, he’s sure he’s misunderstood — surely the universe could not have been conspiring the way it did, surely manifest destiny would not play out the way he thought, the statistics line up the numbers just so. surely — it can’t be this perfect. but it can — so he learns, when he bumps into you again, in another country no less, so far from the confines of a japanese seven-eleven, all the way across the world in argentina, where he’s supposed to be meeting up with oikawa but the jerk is late and now he’s here, his eyes caught in yours in this coffee shop not three blocks away from the olympic training stadium. you both try to ask for each others names, and then, you both fall into awkward, knowing laughter. because if it’s not destiny, he doesn’t know what it is. if it’s not fate, then you don’t know what to call it — what are the chances of two people running into each other time and time again, halfway around the entire world? he asks you out for dinner, and you don’t say no. oikawa teases him mercilessly about it later, but he doesn’t care. he never fancied himself someone to be lovesick, but when oikawa floats out the term, he doesn’t negate him. it’s a slow-going thing, but iwaizumi finds that he doesn’t mind — he likes taking his time with you, knows implicitly that he has all the time in the world — because if you’d found each other across the entire world, then what’s there to be afraid of? what more is there to worry about? you have all the time in the world — after all, isn’t that what it means to be meant to each other?

oikawa.

the first time he sees you, he does double take, and then a triple take. and later, he’d do anything to claim that it was you who chased after him, but those closest to him all know the truth — that he’d run down four flights of stairs and searched through the entire olympic arena to find you, mulling over musubi of all things — him, breathless and panting, and really, really wondering what the hell he as doing. he’s got a game later, but — well, he couldn’t really help himself. call him a skirt chaser, call him a womanizer, call him the playboy to end all playboys, but oikawa tooru has always known what he wanted. and he knew, in the blink of an eye, that he wanted you. so he’d chased after you, he’d found you, he’d turned up his charm and ramped up his smolder and you… well, you’d shaken your head and brushed him off. it’d stung, of course it had. he’d been inconsolable for weeks, but after he found out that you’re related to the famous sportscaster, he finds himself rejuvenated. he tells your dad that he’s in love with you before he ever asks you out on a date. years later, long after he’d managed to convince you out for one date, which turned into two, and then five, and then ten, and then… who’s keeping count any more, right? he stands across from you with your hands in his and tears in his eyes, he tells you — he says, y’know… the first time i saw you, in that crowd, i knew you were the one for me.

requests are open :)

[lillian-gallows]

Kinktober Day 8: Breeding with Simon "Ghost" Riley

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader Word Count: 794 Warnings: Breeding kink, P in V sex, Unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it, unless the goal is to get gregnent that is), Dirty talk, Lil bit of Cock Warming, Probably badly written British slang (is that a warning?). Kinktober Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

Your whole body ached. It ached in the way that it does when you’ve gone for a really good hike, the kind that leaves muscles twitching from use, and your veins buzzing from the endorphins.

The main difference being it wasn’t a hike that left you like this.

No, it was the man currently behind you, pounding you face first into the mattress, gearing up to fill you with his third load of cum that day alone.

See, you and Simon had made the decision that you were ready to start trying for a baby. And then promptly decided that the best way to go about that, was to fuck as many times a day, in as many positions as possible, and in as many locations in your home as you can find.

It was currently 10 in the morning and you both had just finished breakfast, which was the followed by a good morning fuck on the counter, then some coffee on the couch had led to you riding him with the weather forecast playing in the background, and then when you both went to get dressed for the day, well, why not take yet another opportunity?

It’s been like this for two weeks now, and you both were far from bored of it. Spending whole days drunk on each other’s bodies, and still craving more, it was amazing.

It helped that Simon, being the wonderful man he is, always made sure you came.

Every. Single. Time.

That’s how you’ve found yourself here and now. Face down, ass up, with the thick cock of your British operator filling you over and over, tip kissing your cervix on every thrust, hands gripping your hips so tight you were sure it would leave a mark, not that you minded, you loved when he marked you up.

“Bloody hell…Still so wet from before…” He rasped as he gave particularly hard thrust, shoving you harder into the sheets and yanking a cry from your kiss swollen lips. “Such pretty noises…So loud for me…Think the neighbors can hear how good I’m fucking you? Hear how many times I’ve filled you up?”

His filthy words sent the most delicious buzzing through your body, he was only ever this talkative when he was fucking you, it’s like he’s always saving all his words for when he’s balls deep so he can say the dirtiest things he can think of.

“If-fuck…” You started but cut off with a gasp. “If they don’t know now…Ngh…They will soon…Shit, Simon…” You managed, knuckles white with how tightly you were gripping the sheets, hips shoving back against him to meet his with every movement.

The room was filled with wet noises, skin meeting skin, and ragged breathing, well, your ragged breathing that is. Simon has stamina for days; you don’t think you’ve ever heard him so much as pant.

“Hmm.” He purred as he leaned over you, pressing his chest to yours, and pressing his cock even deeper. “Love the way you say my name, but I’d rather hear you scream it.” He growled into your ear before his pace picked up, slamming home over and over.

And scream you did. His name, curses, incoherent babbling more than both of those.

You hadn’t even realized that your orgasm had been building till it came crashing over you. Every muscle buzzed and locked at the same time, your vision went white, and you could swear you passed out for a second, but through the whole thing Simon never stopped, not till you felt his cum flood into you, so hot it felt almost scalding with how sensitive your poor abused pussy was.

Rather than pull out right away, Simon turned you both on your sides and pulled you as close as possible. “You still with me, Love?” He rasped into your hair as gentle hands drifted up and down your side.

“Hmm?” You hummed as reality reached your brain once more. “Mmhmm.” You managed, wiggling back into him, and then promptly letting out a shocked gasp when you discovered he was still inside you. “Si, what the fuck…?” You grumbled quietly.

“What? Gotta keep it in, so it takes.” He answered, sounding smug as his hand came to rest on your belly. “I think this was the one.” Now he just sounded soft, and you adored hearing your big tough scary man, sound so sweet.

You let out another happy hum. “I think so too…” You said before a slow smirk spread over your face. “Doesn’t mean we can’t be 100% totally sure though, right?” You said before taking his wrist and guiding his hand down between your thighs.

Time to add another new position to the list.

[jplupine]

Primal Pred!Grimmjow x Prey!Reader

Pairing: Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez x AFAB Reader Word Count: ~4.6k Date Published: Nov 25, 2023 WARNINGS: 18+ Minors/Ageless get blocked, Exophilia, Established Relationship, Size Difference, Primal Play, Marking, Light Blood/Injury, Cunnilingus, Outdoor Sex, Feral Behavior, Name Calling [Asshole, Bitch, Kitty Cat], Creampie, Brat!Reader; Reader is AFAB but no gender is specified, Terms such as pussy/cock/dick/etc. get used

A/N: The follower milestone fic is finally finished! I want to thank everyone who participated in the event and everyone kindly supporting me ^-^ <3

  The crackling fire danced in the pit surrounded by pale stones. The shadows swayed with the light flickering shades of orange and white. Insects of the night called out their chorus from the darkness beyond the fire.

  You sat on a log with your fingers wrapped around a warm cup of coffee. It wasn't quite the same as what you brewed at home, but it did add a bit of comfort as you sipped it. The atmosphere was relaxing and made you glad you'd decided to go on a camping trip to get away from the bustle of work and city life.

  The dark night sky littered with glittering stars and the moon shining bright were so unlike the sky hidden by street lights back home. It was breathtaking.

  And given it was still in the transition time between summer and autumn, it wasn't too warm nor too cold out. You'd checked the weather forecast before heading out into the woods too, and it was supposed to remain like this for the next few days you were out there.

  An owl screeched in the distance before a stick in the fire snapped, sending embers up into the night sky as if they were trying to join the stars.

  You closed your eyes to just listen to the world around you; soaking it in while bringing the coffee to your lips. No sound of speeding cars. No foul smells from rotting garbage or fumes from exhaust pipes. And certainly no manager or boss nagging about work.

  It was bliss.

  You sighed and opened your eyes again. Glancing around, you began to wonder where your camping partner was. He'd gone off to stretch his legs, but that had been some time ago now.

  Looking into the shadows of the trees, you tried to see if you could spot him. You weren't all that worried since you knew he could take care of himself, but that didn't stop you from wondering when he'd come back. Taking another drink of your coffee, you stretched out your legs in front of you.

  However, as the fire popped and crackled, the woods began to feel different. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end as unease began to settle in. Something was wrong, but you couldn't tell what.

  Your heart began to beat faster as you sensed something you couldn't see.

  A low, thunderous rumble shook the air and made you jolt. It was hard to tell where the sound was coming from with how it bounced through the trees surrounding your campsite.

  Sitting up straight with your eyes darting around, you still didn't see anything. It sounded like an animal; big and dangerous. Slowly setting down your coffee, you reached into your pocket to grab your knife.

  It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing as the blade flipped out from the handle. Gradually rising to your feet, your grip on the knife tightened while your heart was pounding.

  You could feel eyes on you. Whatever the beast was, it was certainly watching you. Swallowing, you hoped the fire was enough to keep the thing in the shadows.

  Hearing a twig snap, your gaze shot in the direction of the sound. Eyes reflecting the fire's light shined from the darkness. Another rumbling growl came from the same direction as the eyes, and your heart beat faster.

  The eyes went lower, and you had a feeling the beast was getting ready to pounce. Brandishing your knife, the creature in the shadows seemed to hesitate as light shined against the blade. The eyes in the dark locked with yours before there was a loud rush of wind.

  The fire was blown out, leaving you surrounded in complete darkness until your eyes could adjust. You couldn't yet see but heard movement ahead of you.

  The beast was closing in.

  You ran and nearly tripped over the log if you hadn't caught yourself from falling. As you ran, your eyes became more accustomed to the night, allowing you to run through the trees faster. A roar that shook you to the bone silenced the rest of the woods, sending the other creatures into hiding to avoid getting caught.

  With your heart loudly pounding in your own ears, you nearly screamed when something grabbed your shoulder only to swing the knife instead. You felt the blade make contact before the beast roared. Everything happened so fast that you only saw a flash of fangs in the moonlight and claws before the knife was sent flying out of your hand. You heard it thunk as the blade was buried deep into a tree trunk.

  You didn't think twice, going into survival mode to run even faster.

  "Bitch!" A barked, angry voice made you nearly stumble. No, you must have misheard. You still didn't stop. When a fallen tree blocked your path, you vaulted over it and hoped it would deter the beast.

  However, as your legs carried you further, you could still feel the thing behind you, chasing you. What made it more terrifying were the sounds; the growling and snapping of sharp teeth like the razor point edges of scissors grinding against each other.

  You knew it was getting closer and were already picturing in your head how it would tear you apart once it caught you.

  You were grabbed from behind, getting jerked back by your jacket. Crying out from shock, you struggled and unzipped your jacket to slip out of the garment. The beast held onto the jacket as you scrambled away and managed to get distance.

  Looking back, you saw the creature as it stood a few yards away. Its body was lean and pale with a long tail whipping around behind it. It was bipedal with muscled limbs and long hair past their waistline. And your jacket was clutched in its hands while being pressed against the beast's face.

  When it looked at you, your breath caught in your throat. Those glowing eyes were set in a face that was all too human.

  It wasn't an animal. It wasn't human, either.

  "Grimmjow! You scared the shit out of me, you fucking asshole!"

  "I know. I can smell it." His face then lifted from your jacket with a displeased expression. "And you cut me, fucker." Grimmjow's low voice growled, and your eyes drifted to his cheek where there was dried blood but no wound.

  "It's already healed, you big baby." You retorted with a huff. His tail twitched as his gaze traveled over your face. Grimmjow's lips curled up into a vicious grin with his fangs exposed.

  "Why are you still standing all the way over there? Aw, are you mad?" His tone was mocking, and your hands balled into fists at your sides.

  "Yes, I'm mad!" You angrily pointed at the Arrancar without taking a step closer. "You made me think I was about to get eaten!"

  "I mean," Grimmjow cocked his head to the side as his ears perked up. His slit pupils widened a slight fraction, eyelids lowering just a bit as he looked over your body. "I never said I wasn't going to eat you."

  His tone and hungry gaze sparked something deep in your gut. Grimmjow's tail curled as he shifted his weight on his digitigrade legs, his paws so quiet when he took a step closer. You took a step back, maintaining the distance between you two.

  Grimmjow stopped to look at you again as the hunger in his eyes intensified. He slowly licked his lips like a beast would its maw.

  You knew the Arrancar well enough by now to recognize when the predator within him was stirring. You also knew if you made any sudden movement, he just might pounce and take you down like prey.

  The air felt electrified as you two just stared at one another, eyes locked as unspoken words lingered at the forefront of your mind. Grimmjow brought your jacket to his face again, making a show of inhaling your scent with a soft purr rumbling in his chest.

  You still didn't move. The Arrancar was on a precarious edge, and you weren't entirely sure what he would do next.

  Grimmjow suddenly threw your jacket to the side and lunged forward. You reacted as soon as you saw him move, turning to run as he landed where you had been standing just a second prior. He was on his hands and paws like a beast, watching you as you went around a tree.

  His instincts made his blood run hot through his veins, and you could feel those piercing eyes trailing after you. You'd set off the predator and ran like prey.

  The hunt was on.

  The bestial call that rang out through the trees made your heart beat faster as you weaved through the trees. Excitement and fear mingled together and fueled your legs to carry you further. Not knowing what he might do if he caught you had your mind racing with the possibilities.

  Skidding around a boulder, you changed directions. Running in a straight line would make it easier for Grimmjow to track you down, and you didn't want that.

  You'd learned to shift your weight and posture to make your steps quieter over the ground littered with dead leaves and did so now. You were going to do everything within your power to make this as difficult as possible for Grimmjow.

  Grabbing your beanie, you rubbed it against your neck to make your scent on it stronger before you threw it into the bushes. You went in the opposite direction in the hopes of confusing Grimmjow even if just for a moment.

  Panting, you hid behind a large tree surrounded by plants tall enough to cover you as you crouched. Leaning one hand against the trunk of the tree, you tried to catch your breath. Hearing a growl in the distance made you smirk.

  Going lower, you pressed your body down against the earth to look out from under the foliage without giving your position away. The moon and stars cutting through the trees gave you enough light to see beyond where you were hidden.

  Taking slow, deep breaths, your eyes scanned the woods. Far away, you spotted movement. Through the trees, you could see Grimmjow as spots of moonlight danced over his body.

  The Arrancar was still on his hands and paws, muscles rolling beneath his skin-tight clothing as his movements were reminiscent of a big cat. His tail swayed with his head held level with his spine and nose twitching as he scented the air.

  Watching him thrilled you. He was neither man nor beast and didn't care about keeping up appearances of either, and you liked that. You liked how he could posture and smirk like a man, and you also liked how he would act like an animal as he pursued you.

  It certainly appealed to a primal part of your brain in a way you didn't fully understand. You should be terrified of his power and destructive capabilities, but seeing how his feral eyes and silky hair shined in the moonlight as he crouched left you enamored.

  With Grimmjow crouching where he was, you could see the muscles in his thighs bunching beneath his clothes. You covered your mouth and nose to muffle the sound of your breathing as his furry ears began to swivel. He was listening to the woods around him, picking up sounds in several directions that his ears moved in.

  His eyes closed with his head tilting back. Grimmjow's fingers flexed with his daunting claws catching the moonlight. His head then rolled to the side, his eyes snapping open as he looked right at you with a grin.

  Your hair stood on end as the predator twisted and moved in your direction. Scrambling to your feet, you kicked up leaves and dirt before bolting to keep the chase going.

  You ran faster even as your muscles and lungs burned. Grimmjow roared, letting you know that he was closing the distance and fast.

  Something caught your foot, sending you tumbling across the ground right as the beast went flying overhead. Tripping over a root had saved you from being caught again.

  Grimmjow landed ahead of you and twisted with claws digging into the earth. Locking eyes with him as you pushed yourself up, your fingers sank into the soil beneath you. His tail whipped from side to side as you both were in similar positions on all fours, waiting for one or the other to make a move.

  You couldn't look away, panting as you tried to think of what to do next. Grimmjow's slit pupils widened as his top lip curled to bare a mouth full of fangs with a maniacal grin.

  He made the first move, lunging forward with a flex of his thighs and biceps. You reared back in an attempt to get away only to fail. He was faster, but you weren't giving up so easily.

  Grabbing a nearby fallen branch, you swung it like a bat and hit him across the face. He reared back with a vicious yowl while flashing his fangs. When his head swung back down, you used the branch to keep those sharp teeth away from you, already knowing how much of a biter the bastard was.

  His growling vibrated through the branch and up your arms as his fangs sank into the wood. Claws tore through the sleeves of your shirt as you struggled to get him off you. He was so strong, keeping you trapped like a mouse beneath him.

  Your pounding heart sent adrenalin rushing through your veins while you watched his long canines vanish into the branch as it creaked from the force of his jaws. His bite was powerful enough to break through the wood and sent a rain of splinters falling over you.

  His big hands grabbed your wrists and pinned them against the ground by your head. Kicking against the ground, you still fought to get free only to fail. His fangs snapped right in front of your face as you screamed, sounding more angry than afraid.

  "Got ya." Grimmjow sounded amused, but you snarled and moved to punch him. However, his strength was far greater than yours, keeping your hands firmly against the ground. "Mm, yeah. Keep struggling. I like it when my prey puts up a fight."

  He was mocking you, but you knew he was telling the truth all the same. Perhaps it was a part of the Hollow nature within Grimmjow that made him enjoy subduing you in such a way. It was domination through force when you put up a fight and didn't let him have you so easily.

  And this appealed to you as well. While you couldn't fight back the way another Hollow might, you also knew you didn't have to hold back as much with him not being human.

  Locking your legs around his waist, you twisted to switch your positions. Grimmjow fell on his back while still holding your wrists. The momentum kept going as you both rolled across the ground with him snarling and growling.

  You managed to wrench one hand free and grabbed the folded collar around most of his neck to yank it back. More of his scarred chest was exposed along with part of his shoulder and the side of his neck, and you sank your teeth into the muscle now bared. Claws tore through the side of your shirt as Grimmjow yowled.

  He roughly forced you onto your stomach, using his weight against your back to pin you down as he fisted your hair and made you bare the back of your neck. His breath was hot against your skin before his fangs scraped over your neck, causing goosebumps to rise even as he bit down. Grimmjow ground his hips against your ass as his chest rumbled.

  He had you now. With his sharp teeth clamped against your neck hard enough to cause small beads of blood to form, there was no more getting away. His erection pressed against you through the layers of clothes you both wore, letting you know just how worked up the Arrancar had gotten.

  You knew Grimmjow could smell your arousal and could hear the quick beating of your heart. Those two things in combination never failed to drive his instincts wild.

  His warm tongue lapped up the blood from the back of your neck as he purred. The sound of ripping fabric met your ears before you realized he was tearing through your shirt.

  "Grimmjow!" You snapped at him, but the garment was already ruined and being shoved over your shoulders. You didn't actually mind it; the action aroused you more, but you didn't want to give in just yet.

  "Pick your next words carefully." His voice was breathy with a warning tone as he spoke near your ear. His hands went down your sides to roughly grab the waistband of your jeans.

  "Or what? You'll bite me again?" You spoke while lifting your hips to push your ass against him more. "Try me, fucker." Getting your hands under you, you managed to undo the button and zipper of your pants, but Grimmjow tore his claws through the material while shoving it down over your ass and legs.

  You kicked off your shoes to let him take the last shreds of your pants off. They were tossed to the side without a care. Grimmjow then grabbed your hips to lift your ass higher into the air as you pushed your underwear down before he could get his claws on them.

  Grimmjow's hands went lower, spreading you open before eagerly burying his face between your thighs. His tongue lapped up your arousal with a low groan. Your breath faltered as you spread your knees further.

  You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth when his tongue dragged over your clit. His fangs brushed against your flesh as he pulled you closer to his hungry mouth. Grimmjow's claws pricked your skin before he let go.

  His lips and tongue were still on you, and based on his movement, you assumed he was undressing while still eating your pussy. You took in a sharp breath when he growled and the vibration was carried on his tongue. Your hips rocked back to chase the feeling, and Grimmjow grabbed your ass and squeezed.

  He was ravenous with his claws pricking your skin. By now, he knew what made you feel good and what could make you elicit the very sounds he wanted to hear. His growl shook you to the bone as wet sounds came from between your thighs.

  You were panting when his broad tongue swiped over your core before he pulled away. Grimmjow spit, his saliva landing on your pussy as your clit throbbed.

  One of his large hands grabbed your head to pin it against the ground, pressing your cheek into the dirt as the head of his cock slid between your wet lips. He mixed his spit in with your arousal while slicking up his dick. You could tell the Arrancar was eager from his unsteady breaths and his grip on you.

  When he finally pushed inside, you felt yourself stretching to accommodate his thickness. Grimmjow didn't go slow, thrusting deep until his hips hit your ass. You both grunted as your hands balled into fists.

  Looking over your shoulder, your gaze met Grimmjow's. Something in your eyes made his tail twitch.

  "You're being awfully impatient, kitty cat. You really that needy for me?" Your words made his nose scrunch up with a snarl. You had yet to truly submit to him even if your body had.

  Grimmjow fisted his hand in your hair, tugging on it to pull your head back and make you incapable of looking at him. His other hand grabbed your hip with his claws digging into your skin hard enough to leave marks. Without warning, he pulled out and thrust back in harshly, forcing a low moan from your throat.

  "Who the fuck are you calling kitty cat, bitch?" He growled, but you couldn't respond since he forced another moan from you. You'd pissed him off as intended, and he was going to fuck you into submission.

  He'd mistakenly believed the fight was over. Too bad that spark in you was harder to quell and you were certain to give the Arrancar attitude. He may have caught you, but he needed to earn your submission.

  Grimmjow let go of your hair to hold both of your hips, his heavy thrusts slamming his hips into your ass hard enough that you could feel the jiggle of your flesh. He was an animal pinning you in place as your mind swam with pleasure.

  You were moaning, crying out into the night as he grunted and drove his cock deeper.

  "Listen to you." You could hear the smile in his voice. "Now who's the needy one?" You didn't trust your voice enough to verbally respond and settled on raising your middle finger. Grimmjow then went for your throat, wrapping his big arms around you while forcing you to lay flat against the ground with his large hand curled around your neck.

  He still rutted against you as his hot breath hit the side of your head. This position meant he couldn't go as deep as before, but the angle had his cock ramming into the perfect spot to make you buck and writhe. Grimmjow chuckled as you struggled to contain yourself beneath him.

  "That's it." His voice rumbled near your ear before his firm grip on your neck tilted your head up. "Submit to your king." Your moan pitched higher as your eyes fluttered closed. His lips and teeth brushed against the shell of your ear as he panted, making you shiver.

  His grip on your throat tightened but remained loose enough that you could still freely moan. Grimmjow wanted to hear you cry out, every moan a form of worship that stroked his ego. He knew with how pliant you were in his hands now that you had given over control and submitted.

  You felt the sweat forming on your skin as fire burned through your veins. Grimmjow's heat and weight on your back made your head spin as the pleasure made you buck. He grabbed one of your wrists and pinned it to the ground, exerting more control over your body as you bent to his will.

  Being trapped beneath him, you took whatever he gave with enthusiasm. Each heavy thrust made you fall deeper into the pit of pleasure. Grimmjow's mouth moved to the back of your neck again, licking the bite he'd already left while nipping in other places.

  Your voice shook as your toes curled, and the deep groan the Arrancar made was bordering a growl. You panted curses under your breath as Grimmjow fucked you, ramming his cock into the spot that lit your nerves aflame and made you cry out his name.

  Grimmjow ran his tongue over the bites littering your skin as he savored every sound you made. How you clenched around him drove him further toward the edge. His strong grip on your throat with his claws scraping against your skin only fueled your desire.

  The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air. Grimmjow's growls mingled with your moans and carried through the trees and into the darkness of the woods. He buried his face into your hair, inhaling your scent and groaning low with his hips grinding against your ass. His dick dragged against your walls, rubbing against every spot that made you squirm and gasp and moan.

  The carnality was bliss. You gave yourself to him completely, leaning into his touch while your spine arched from the pleasure wracking through your body. Grimmjow released your wrist and throat to grab your hips as his weight on your back pushed you further against the earth.

  His claws scraped your skin as his thrusts picked up speed, his balls smacking against you with his frenzied pace. Grimmjow sank his teeth into your shoulder with a groan as your blood coated his tongue. You would always wear his mark so long as you were his.

  Grimmjow pistoning into your wet pussy created lewd, slicking sounds that drove him wilder. Your taste, your scent, how you felt around his cock, and how wet you were for him made Grimmjow's head fall into such a primal state of desire. He was drowning in you and unable to come up for air until he could cum.

  So he fucked you harder, chasing that high and that feral instinct screaming in his veins to fill you with his seed. Claiming his prey in every way he could left both of you unable to think straight. You were drooling with your fingers digging into the dirt, muscles tensing and rolling beneath your skin.

  Your bodies being flush against each other meant everything was felt. Every twitch, every heartbeat, every sound that vibrated from the chest and throat.

  Grimmjow left scratches over your hips as he tried to pull you even closer. It was impossible, but that didn't stop his pleasure-clouded mind from telling him he needed to. He moaned into your skin while thrusting his cock as deep as he could go.

  You cried out with your thighs shivering, and that was the final thing that made Grimmjow snap. With shallow thrusts and animalistic grunts, his cock began to twitch while pumping you full of his cum. He didn't stop, continuing to fuck you through his orgasm and drive his seed deeper into your core even as it overflowed and dripped down your thighs.

  Grimmjow released your shoulder from his jaws, groaning and licking the bite while his cum mixed with your arousal. He let go of one hip and slipped his hand under you to find your clit. Being mindful of his claws, he pressed his fingertips against the throbbing bud.

  You bucked and moaned an octave higher. Grimmjow let go of your other hip to grab your jaw and make you turn your head for a kiss. His tongue dove into your mouth without warning and glided across yours as he devoured your moans. He soon had you cumming around his cock as you clenched and cried out in pleasure.

  He didn't stop until you were whimpering and dancing on the line of overstimulation. He pulled away with his nose brushing through your hair before his lips traveled down your spine with kisses and gentle nips as he purred. You propped your upper half up on your elbows and wiped the drool from your chin.

  Your skin still buzzed despite feeling sated. Grimmjow pulled his cock free of your heat and spread you open to see the mess leaking from your pussy. He huffed and gave a satisfied purr that rumbled deep in his chest.

  You looked over your shoulder to see Grimmjow admiring you with a smirk on his soft lips and his pupils still blown wide. Biting your bottom lip, you couldn't help but give a sultry smile.

  Pushing yourself up, you turned to drape your arms over his shoulders and capture his lips in a hungry kiss. Grimmjow's tail thumped against the ground as he wrapped his arms around you and held you close.

  "Maybe next time we should start the hunt naked." You muttered with your lips only centimeters from his. "Jeans are expensive, you know?" Grimmjow chuckled, and his warm palm traveled up your back.

  "Yeah. 'Cause you're really so concerned about that." His smirk didn't falter even as he had a sarcastic tone. "I'll hunt you however, my sweet bitch." Grimmjow nipped your bottom lip while purring, and you yelped when his hand smacked against your ass hard enough to make it sting.

[radiant-reid]

Easter Sunday

a/n: in honor of my favorite holiday and favorite comfort character

Summary: A cute Easter brunch with the team and some Reid babies

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (fluff)

Word Count: 3.0k

Masterlist | Navigation

The sun shining through the large double windows marks the perfect start to the day. The weather forecast has promised sunshine and higher-the-usual temperatures for the holiday weekend. Emily let the team have a five-day weekend as the BAU tradition has dictated for several years. Hotch originally started it, realizing, three months after Christmas, there was a need for family time. 

For the Reid children, things look different now that their dad is home more. He has always been very present, but now he’s at more practices, doing drop-offs and pick-ups, and reading stories at bedtime. Still, their excitement for Easter has been growing, knowing it means uninterrupted time with all of their uncles and aunts.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” Spencer greets her from the doorway before she notices he’s not in bed next to her.

He hands her the mug she has every day, filled with perfectly made coffee. He’s the expert at that, so it’s his first task in the morning.

“Thank you, handsome.” She replies, adding to the thanks with a soft kiss on his lips. “It looks like a good day out there.” She notes as he draws the curtain open. 

“It’s meant to be in the high 70s later.” He reports, probably having already skimmed the New York Times.

She grins, sipping her coffee. “Perfect for today.”

“We should host one time,” Spencer suggests.

Y/n chuckles softly, shaking her head. “Rossi would never go for it, and I thought you’d know better than to mess with tradition.” 

He nods, knowing it’s true. “We’ll stick to summer barbeques and birthday parties since it’s the perfect house.”

It’s the type of house Spencer never really saw himself living in. Growing up, he lived comfortably, and thanks to the mortgage being paid off before his dad left, he continued living in a very middle-class area of suburban Las Vegas until he went to school. 

California was more expensive, but between his multiple scholarships, he had enough money to feed himself, always be caffeinated, and live in a small apartment near Cal Tech. He didn’t see the need to spend every cent he had living somewhere fancier, and his mom’s treatment wasn’t fully covered, so he paid for that. 

In DC, his place was simple. He didn’t need anything more than a one-bedroom apartment since he didn’t have family coming to stay, and without any student debt and a good-paying job, he had more money than he needed.

When they moved in together, it was to Y/n’s larger apartment that they eventually brought, and with two bedrooms, there was no need for anything huge until Matilda was old enough to sleep in her own room.

After learning they would have twins their second time, their quickly growing family needed much more space, so they brought their dream house. As much as he wanted it, Spencer never expected to have a family or a large home in the suburbs, but he does now, and every morning, he’s grateful for it.

“True.” Y/n agrees. 

Spencer sits back on the bed next to her, and she throws her legs over his lap, wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling into his side as they enjoy a few minutes together in silence before the craziness of their day starts. 

Gurgling on the baby monitor breaks the peace, and the video feed shows Mabel standing up and shaking the crib bars. 

“I’ll go.” Spencer declares, shuffling away from her to get out of bed. “And I’ll get the twins changed.”

Y/n raises her eyebrows, looking impressed with what he’s promising to tackle. “Good luck.” She jokes, grinning at him as she also gets out of bed. 

“I’ve got this.” He assures her. “Go shower and get dressed up.” 

She’s not about to argue with it. Having a shower where she doesn’t get interrupted by little hands banging on the door asking for snacks or to change the TV channel would be a rarity. 

Her new dress is perfect for Easter and spring, long and flowy white fabric with a blue floral pattern and a sweetheart neckline. It’ll look even better with some soft curls in her hair.

Spencer’s first stop is Mabel’s room. The door’s sign says her name, and the bedroom has cute flowers painted on the wall above the crib. “Hi, sweet baby.” He coos, reaching out for his youngest. She still wears her sleep sack to bed, and Spencer thinks it’s the cutest thing.

She squeals when she recognizes him, jumping adorably. “Daddy!” She yells in her sleepy voice. 

He scoops her up, wrapping his arms around her and cuddling her tightly to his chest before kissing her forehead. “You know, I think you might be ready for a big girl’s bed soon.” He tells her.

Mabel rests her forehead against his. “Like Tilda?” She asks, eyes sparkling at the mention of her big sister.

“Just like Matilda and the twins, too.” He answers.

She pulls back from him quickly with excitement. “We go see them?”

“Let Daddy put your pretty dress on you first, and then we can see them.” He tells her. “If they’re awake.” 

They are awake, he discovers when he finally finishes dressing Mabel. She runs ahead of Spencer and climbs the stairs without help to find the three of them in the living room.

“Hi, little people,” Spencer says, announcing himself to them. 

They spin around from the TV, jumping up from where they’re sitting and rushing over to hug him. It’s one of his favorite sights when they get excited that their eyes shine upon seeing him, and one of the best feelings is how warm he feels when they race over and fling their arms around him. He has never felt as much love as he does now, yet somehow, it grows more each day.

“Daddy, it’s Easter!” Matilda cheers. 

“I know.” He says. “Happy Easter.”

“Did the Easter bunny come?” Toby wonders. 

Spencer nods. “Grandpa Rossi called to say he’d dropped off lots of chocolate eggs for all of you.” It’s a lie, technically, but it makes their faces light up all over again, so it’s worth it.

“Are the cousins coming?” Aspen wonders. 

“Henry, Michael, Jake, David, Chloe, Lily, Rose, and Hank is as well,” Spencer lists the other BAU kids and former BAU kid, earning another round of cheers from his kids. “We need to get ready, though. Tillie, your dress is hanging in your wardrobe. Want me to help you, Aspen?”

She shakes her head. “No, I can get changed by myself.”

Independent as always, and something he should have anticipated. “Okay, upstairs and into dresses.” He instructs. “Then you can watch TV. T, you want daddy’s help getting ready?”

“Can you put gel in my hair?” Toby asks. “Mommy says that it looks handsome.”

Spencer chuckles at how cute his little boy is. “Sure, bud.” He agrees. “And it does make you look very handsome.”

It’s always a juggle with four kids, trying to get everyone dressed in time to go anywhere. Mabel can’t be left alone, so Spencer has to multitask between keeping her from running away to cause trouble while doing Toby’s hair and ensuring Aspen and Matilda haven’t gotten distracted. 

“Look how handsome you look.” Y/n coos as she peers into the bathroom where Spencer’s finishing off Toby’s hair. 

“Mommy!” He squeals, jumping off the stool and running over to hug her.

She hugs him back, careful not to ruin his hair. “Hey, bubba, did Daddy do your hair really nice?”

“Mhm.” He answers. 

“You want help getting changed?” She offers, met by him shaking his head, following the independent streak of his older sisters. “Alright, get to it, Mister.” She instructs, sending him off to his room with a pat on the back. Spencer’s eyes stay fixed on her as she stands there, and he rests against the bathroom counter. “What?” She asks shyly.

He smiles softly at her. “Nothing.” He shakes his head. “It’s just you’re so pretty. I still can’t believe you’re my wife.”

Then Y/n is grinning dumbly, twirling in her dress for him to get the full 360 view. “I might marry you again if you keep being so sweet.”

“Then I’d be the luckiest guy in the world again.” He tells her, walking over and placing his hands on her waist. He just stands there looking at her, admiring every detail of her makeup.

“Stop.” She says, pushing his shoulder. “I love you, Spencer Reid.”

Spencer steals a kiss, careful not to mess up her pink lipstick. “I love you more, Y/n Reid.” 

She shakes her head. “Impossible, but we should debate that later.” She decides. “We’ve got babies to get ready.”

“Yeah.” Spencer agrees. “It’s been oddly silent for a little too long.” 

Thankfully, the silence wasn’t getting-into-mischief silence. Y/n takes over getting the kids ready while Spencer gets himself dressed, and impressively, they’re done five minutes early.

“How you do this every morning is a miracle to me.” He remarks as they make their way out the door. 

“I’m just a super mom.” She jokes, but it’s the truth.

“You absolutely are.” Spencer agrees with her. “The best mom in the world.”

Car rides are possibly louder than being inside, thanks to the enclosed space, but Rossi’s house is only a few minutes drive, and they pull in behind JJ’s car. 

The girls are in pretty pink dresses that’ll no doubt end up covered in grass stains, and Toby’s pastel blue shirt matches Spencer’s. In both Y/n and Spencer’s eyes, they’re the most beautiful children ever.

“Little Reids!” Penelope cheers as soon as they’re through Rossi’s wide-open front door. She’s crouched down to scoop them all up, wrapping them all in a tight hug, looking like the definition of sunshine in her yellow dress. “Aren’t you four just so perfect?” She asks rhetorically as she pulls back to look at them. They are, and their parents nod to answer her confession.

After answering a few of Penelope’s questions, they squirm away to run through the house and greet everyone else. 

“And the perfect parents.” She greets them with hugs as well. 

 Y/n chuckles onto her shoulder. “You look incredible, Pen.” She compliments.

“That’s you, Mrs. Reid.” She replies. “And you’re all matching, just the cutest family ever.”

Spencer grins, wrapping his arm around his wife’s shoulder. “We kind of are.” He agrees.

“Come on, come see everyone.” Penelope ushers them through the house, taking on the role of secondary host as she usually does at Rossi’s. She and Krystall tag-team the job.

Henry, Michael, Hank, Matilda, Toby, Aspen, and Mabel are waiting in the living room, their little faces pressed against the glass as they look out the big glass doors trying to spot the hidden easter eggs in the garden. 

Everyone’s in their nice clothing, dresses and good shirts with jackets. It’s mostly BAU members Y/n often sees at Rossi’s, but Derek and Savannah have made the trip and quickly hug their old friends.

“Look at you, mama,” Derek remarks. “You’re as gorgeous as ever.”

“And you’re as flattering as ever.” She jokes, nudging his shoulder. “We didn’t know for sure that you’d be coming.”

“Couldn’t miss a family day.” He reminds her.

The Simmons’ walk through the door a moment later, and Rossi flings open the glass doors for the excited children to race outside and start their egg hunt with squeals of delight. 

Y/n gives Rossi a hug as the adults stream outside. “Thank you for hosting another wonderful Easter.”

“You’re always welcome, my dear.” He assures her. “I hope you don’t mind the little Reids going home full of sugar.” He nods to the massive baskets of chocolate and candy each kid carries, almost as big as Mabel. 

“I guess Spencer’s doing bedtime.” She jokes. An hour on the trampoline should do the trick.

“Speak of the devil,” Rossi says, drawing her attention to her husband as he comes waltzing over, holding out an extra mimosa to her.

She takes it appreciatively, letting him wrap his arm around her shoulder. “A very handsome devil.” She chuckles, making Spencer blush easily. It’s endearing to her that he reacts the way he did the first time.

“Shall we eat?” Rossi asks, looking around the yard where everyone’s scattered chatting. 

“It almost looks too delicious to eat.” Y/n compliments, looking at the spread.

It’s the gorgeous, perfectly prepared food the team has become accustomed to having at Rossi’s. There are hot cross buns, fresh bread, fruit salad, pastries of all kinds, bacon, eggs, waffles, and all the toppings in the world.

They sit at the adult table, and Spencer’s hand drifts to her knee instinctively. It’s why she sits on his left side each time. The kid table is next to the big one with smaller seats and prefilled plastic cups of juice. Rossi and Krystall are always prepared to entertain.

The kids take their seats, and Y/n momentarily leaves to ensure they’re getting balanced plates and not just gorging themselves on chocolate and candy. 

Then she’s back to Spencer’s side, and they’re talking with the rest of the team, basking in the warmth of the sun and family. It’s what they always have been. Even throughout the darkness they’ve seen over the years, they’re closer than ever, and there’s so much love between them.

After brunch, a few drinks in, and Spencer’s more relaxed, pulling Y/n onto his lap and resting his head on her shoulder while they laugh and joke with the team.  

It doesn’t last too long before someone’s pulling on Spencer’s sleeve. “Daddy, can you look for the Easter eggs in the trees?” Toby asks, showing him his best puppy eyes even though it’s unnecessary since he’d do anything for him.

Spencer looks around the table to see Derek and Matt being asked the same question, all three of them being targeted by their sons for their height. Flashing a curious look at Rossi, Spencer agrees, moving out from under Y/n to join the hunt. 

Rossi and Krystall insist on cleaning up, not wanting their guests to move a muscle, which leaves most of the girls alone at the table since Penelope and Luke are getting drinks and definitely not flirting with each other.

Rose, who has been sleeping so far, starts to cry in her carrier, and Kristy unclips her, pulling her into her arms for cuddles to quiet her. She’s adorable, most similar looking to Jake, in Y/n’s opinion. 

“She’s so tiny.” Y/n remarks off-handedly, looking at the small baby. “What’s it like? Four to five?” 

All eyes are on her in a second, but JJ beats everyone else to speak. “You’re not...”

Y/n shakes her head quickly, stopping that rumor before it can start. “No. No, I’m not.” She assures them, holding up her glass of champagne to prove it. “I’m just wondering.”

“The nights are rough, but diaper changing is still the same,” Kristy answers honestly. “And Mabel’s probably young enough that you’ve got all her stuff. Is it something you’re considering?”

Y/n shakes her head again. “Not until I see a little baby or that.” Her eyes drift to Spencer, who’s chasing Toby and Aspen around the yard. “But we could end up with twins again, and I think six is a little too crazy.” 

Laughter breaks out around the rest of the group, which relieves the seriousness of discussing family planning.

“Here.” Kristy offers Rose to hold, and Y/n takes the baby happily, looking at her adorable face and seeing up close how tiny she is. 

“She’s so precious.” She notes, catching Spencer’s eyes. “Spence, look at how little she is.”

Her address gets Matt and Derek’s attention, who are standing next to Spencer. “Uh oh,” Derek remarks knowingly, smirking at Spencer. 

“Someone’s about to commit to a new baby.” Matt pats him on the shoulder, smirking as well. 

Spencer chuckles, unsure of if it’s true or not. He’ll give her another baby, promised he’d go up to five if she was willing. “Do you think I could pretend I didn’t hear her?” He asks jokingly.

“Get over there, papa bear.” Derek insists with a laugh. 

Dutifully, he walks over, sitting next to Y/n and admiring the baby. “She’s so cute.” He compliments Kristy first.

“Look at how little she is.” Y/n repeats. 

“Yeah, it seems impossible they’re ever this little.” He remarks, earning hums of agreement from the other women sitting around the table who once had babies this little and now have fully grown children running around in the yard. He remembers when his children were that little like it was yesterday, but Rose still looks tiny. “No more, though.” He tells his wife with a laugh.

“Yeah, you’re right.” She agrees. “Not when we’re just getting full nights of sleep.”

The party continues into the late afternoon. The company is too good, and too much fun is being had for anyone to leave earlier. 

Despite how much candy they’ve eaten, Aspen and Matilda still manage to eat more in the car on the way home. Y/n agrees they can sleep in the lounge for a sleepover while watching movies, and it takes them far longer than usual to fall asleep, but they do. 

Y/n and Spencer hug in the kitchen as they watch the ending credits. He knows it’s a good chance to ask about what he heard earlier. “Do you actually want another baby?”

She’s taken aback, figuring it was forgotten, but she shakes her head. “Not really, but I think our kids are beautiful, and babies are cute when they’re that little.”

“We’d get more chocolate if we had five.” Spencer jokes, nodding to the baskets on the table and pulling away from her to steal one. 

“Spencer.” She giggles, splitting the chocolate egg with him. “I think we’ve got more than enough. It’ll last us until next year.”

“I love Easter, you know?” He asks rhetorically. “And you, everything we have, our kids, being a dad, brunch.” 

She nods in agreement, leaning up to peck his lips. “I love you, too. Thanks for being in this with me.”

Spencer takes her left hand and kisses her ring finger. “Always.”

Tell me what you think

Taglist

Join here

@anonymous-reading @bingereid @measure-in-pain @archer561 @la-vie-en-amour1 @cynbx @spencers-dria @hardpartybasketballshepherd @ilovespencerreidmarryme @mrsobrien888 @parahmur @averyhotchner @honkroselyn @randomwriter1021 @bunnyweasley23 @rebeccasoutlook @teenwaywardasgardian @bubb1eana1ee @icequeen6666 @are-y0u-sirius @psychomanias @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @jswessie187 @k-gallacher @morganwilliams @vaella1821 @ndubes04 @juneballoon999 @tiaras-amongst-trash @onceinadifferentdimension @criminal-reid @yikesyikesyikes95 @80strashbag @ilovespencerreidmarryme @citylights31 @ssavanessa22 @thedancingnerdmermaid @doctorspenceryeet @camreid @canadailluminate @lethpartridge @ssagube @spencerreid-mgg @nightlockcornucopia @allexthakatt @silverhetdanes @aperrywilliams @g-l-pierce @reidswhoree @beepbooptoop @silverhetdanes @kyanyakya @katiejozeisler @matthewwhore @megnotfound @80strashbag @mrsobrien888 @morganwilliams  @j-cat @440mxs-wife @hueycat2004 @gspenc  @icurasthefallenangel @iheartspence @ssavanessa22 @bisexual-virgin @thecraziestcrayon @katesreading @cance1medaddy @kuolonsyoja @alexlovescriminalminds @kahootlobbymusic @nomajdetective @idonotexiste @drayshadow @justalittleweirdoo @a-little-bit-of-everything19 @spencesscarf @lhhluvr @holding-on-to-my-youth @averyhotchner @mugi-chwan95 @gspenc @navs-bhat @idkbubs @mochionly  @nessy-nygma @nani-2305 @casfellinlovewithhumanity @shinyanchorface @nbyrd390 @drayshadow @hot-dino-nuggies @averyhotchner @simonsbluee @collectiveuniverses @meggie-m00n @allthecolorsneverseen @sassymoon @nomajdetective @exmachina187 @exhaleli @lucymfer @stumbleonmywords @reeid @hopefullawyerfishprofessor @graktung @sir1usblacksgf @pinkcoffeecup  @luckyladycreator2 @fairyellieee @malboroniightz @kateyee @corefleur @maybe-not-this @starrylang @citylights31 @baby-bi-bi-bi-yeah @ssa-uglywhore27 @kitkatkaitin @rocketxgirl @navs-bhat @bellarkeselection @strugglingtodoshit @joy-soul-gallery @venomsvl @harry-is-my-sunflower @luckyladycreator2 @egglantine23 @holding-on-to-my-youth @misselsbells06 @starrylang @lokisel @gryffi-ndor @lilibet261@idkbubs @slutalexis46 @glimmering-darling-dolly @kodiakwhiskey @rocketxgirl @mochionly @goldentournesol @xdsage @missusstark @spaceygirly1 @holding-on-to-my-youth @insomniacbeth @nbyrd390 @shirleyrose @airedale17  @tanyaherondale @buckys-estrella @geekykeen @lovingsherlockmolly @rory-cakes @muwun-blossom @jetblckdreams @i-wanna-be-conan-obrien @reidsbookmark @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @idfvc @sammypotato67 @tanyaherondale @1-800-brain-and-heart @stcrrjoon @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @wholesome-beans @frickin-bats @chaoticevilbakugo @goldeng1rl8 @arrowurboat @itzyourgurlnihya @belongwithreid @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @spencer-reids-mismatched-socks @addievermore  @harrymybelovedd @chimpmunk @i3k2ts @axen-gers @gxrlwithluv @finny-of-the-rear @greengarsstuff @altsvu @jakiki94 @narryl0ver @justreadingficsdontmindme @hobireasns @goldentournesol @kbakery @kaitieskidmore1 @twofacesoftheworldbutnotsome @chaoticconnoisseurgiver @kbakery @twofacesoftheworldbutnotsome @geekykeen @thisbitch-6 @andreead @kayleea122 @xoxospencerreid @dirtytissuebox @xoxospencerreid @jaydahlynne @sultrypotter @awhoreforspencerreid @sprinh @doe-eyed-fallen-angel @kamilaxq @beans-beanz @malindacath @halloween-is-my-nationality @kenny-0909  @mexicosuitrry @lucyysthings @iheartfinnthehuman101 @vane28282 @mente-sindescanso @lucyysthings @tatespillows @cecethoughts @manuosorioh @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @barbietiingz @grandhideoutavenue @feelinlento @i3k2ts @malindacath @luredwithpretzels @sanaz1dlol @ant-mans-tacos @mente-sindescanso @yumuramma @bubblebuttwade @bellarkeselection @spenceswifewhore  @barbiekatz @itseightbeats @neptunes-curse @sucker1-1punch  @nyx2021 @stilinski-void-04 @dirtytissuebox @daydreaminrry @mysticfalls01 @furiousladyking @gildedstarlight @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidsmexyconverse @scargarcia-magshotchner @wdytminy @rio-reid-whoreee @lovelyxtom @b3ast1706 @slvdsjjk @beenz-beenz @alltoowell-lilysversion @la-reine-des-enfers @mochi-moons @itzliyalupin @queenofrandom @ryswritingrecord @ynbutbetter @thxtmarvelchick @allthingsfashionn @justlivinginadaydream @liltimmyst @catertotshitposts @max-mml @crynroom @sugarcoated-lame @lilibet261 @bts-sugaplum @dezibou @a-marlene-s @crynroom @tracysnook @spencersprettyslut @alexxavicry @reidingspence@melonmochi @thicksexxualtension @haylexo10 @rosaliedepp @bport76  @dirtytissuebox @itsmekarlam @saintnourah @liltimmyst @mikkelsenlover @spencer-reid-wonderland @dirtytissuebox @esoltis280  @berenicexd @lyn07 @crynroom @taysatlantic @alphabetbarnes @4margaritasalex  @namelesslizz @allisonslibrary @suckmyass-things @jasminesacademia @littlemoon-fairy @lucy @waywardhunter95 @neptunes-curse @rayrayfrommindless21 @regulus-black-223048 @dingusfreakhxrrington @sluttt444slashersss @little-miss-blinder @fdl305 @feltonswifesworld87 @sunsetlarry @lovelyvante @rintheemolion @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @dashneydanger @namelesslizz @malindacath @sleepy-enby16 @itzteaganbitch @baubarbie @rippl3s @kokoterainonago666 @mizzysx @princess-of-the-snake-pit @cvrosstuff @coldheartedmar @fudge13 @mushy-mushroom04 @live-laugh-love-spencerreid @crazy4chickennuggets @lundenloves @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sapphireplums @no-soy-fer @haleyshue97 @rippl3s @writingliv @poppetbaby02 @not-feeling-so-good @mizzysx @reidssweatervest @gabxbyr @tayswozle @mslowlife @spencybear @brightlilith​ @happymangospot @devilslilbabysblog  @lover-of-books-and-tea  /  @bunny-script    / @pauline5525mgg @fanf1ctionwrit1n @j-cat @captainhotchner @ceeellewrites /  @randommmguerr / @sinnxagain / @goofygubler7 / @alotdreamers / @resident-boygenius / @nibb  / @coffeemochicat / @tyblackthornsheadphone

@reidsbookclub @gublerstwilight @k-k0129 @spookyspence @eevee0722 @iamreallytryingiswear @dontcallmekittens @gublur @countingthestarsinfinitely @xhopingthis-worksx @claryandjacelover @spencersjello @mikewizkalifa @actingchica @almost-a-ladybug @foodsarcasmandyou @illegallygingerr @darkacademicwhore @uhuhuh @alexxavicry @probablycryingg @awkwardnesshabitat @black-veil-baby @uwu-queen-420  @one-sweet-gubler @whovianayesha @buckys-doll17 @gubedawnreid @parahmur @whovianayesha @i-wanna-be-conan-obrien @kierstiniscrying @simonsnowsblog @usuck @geekykeen @i-wanna-be-conan-obrien @sexy-dumpster-fire @j4sephluv @sophneedsfandoms @asantos7783 @hotchandspencearedilfs  @kitkatkaitin @allthingsfashionn @spideyjass @sammypotato67 @dimpledsmilex3 @vincentvanshoe @nervous-plant @safespacespence @agirlinherhead @maraudersminds @hopelesslystuc @bakugouswh0r3 @ilovespencerreidmarryme  @elnmop @ah-blossom @bellam47 @matthewgraygublerlover @liltiana-ann @happypixy380 @aaija @arrowurboat @reidsonlyangel @xreaderandshits @alohastitch0626 @nyx2021 @assemblemotherfuckers @idjit-sonovawitch @hwngslove @nycreid @helen-with-an-a @sia2raw @hufflepuffwhore13 @pastelbabygirl19 @blomfildsbeauty @hagridsmomma @differentavenue @grxnde-dwt @indecisive-asexual-stuff @hufflepufftruffle @alexxavicry @eichenhouseproperty @musethekitten @langcvn @cucufk @paperbackprettyboy @spencersprettyslut @devilslilbabysblog @padf00ts-l0ver @honey-stark @spencemylove @an0bra1n @jordierama @amurderofcrowsinatrenchcoat @bellenotthebeast @cynbx @darkenwolfie @conniesanchor @cloudxxs @jellycolors @instabull @neptunes-curse​ @sydneekomspacekru @ccosmic-illusion @majooooooooooooooooooo

[blurredcolour]

The Last To Know | Part Three

The Last To Know Masterlist

John Brady x Pilot!Female Reader

The 100th should be nearing the end of its training, receiving its certification for overseas combat. However, as you and Brady both know - man plans, god laughs. Obstacles, however, sometimes present hidden opportunities for connection.

Warnings: MAJOR Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe, Original Characters, Plane Crashes, Minor Original Character Death, Vomit, Era Typical Sexism/Misogyny, Alcohol Consumption, Tobacco Smoking, Canon Typical Violence, Language, Enemies to Lovers, Weapons of War, Inevitable Musical and Flying Inaccuracies, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY.

Author's Note: This story contains an alternate universe where women have been allowed to fly in combat with the USAAF - in a very limited experiment. Reader is a trumpet player. Brief references to Reader's family and backstory. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 6135

-------------------------

December 1942

“Any news?” Thornton asked as she sank down into the empty chair opposite you.

Shaking your head, you lowered your eyes to the faintly steaming mug cupped between your hands, trying to calm the hopeful race of your heart. You had thought, in vain, she might be bearing word of Brady’s crew. “No Ma’am.”

She hummed in disappointment, settling back in her seat as she tossed her cap onto the tabletop, carelessness betraying her fatigue. In all honestly, you should be in bed. You, Thornton, and every other person loitering around the Officer’s Club this late on Christmas Eve.

“Well, Merry Christmas, Lieutenant.” She murmured, straightening her jacket as you took a slow slip of your drink.

Correction – this early on Christmas morning.

“You, too.” You sighed, the pair of you offering tight-lipped nods to Matthews, the barman on duty, as he delivered a cup of coffee for Thornton without prompting.

The forecast that afternoon had been clear skies, no reason to doubt the practice missions slated for the 418th. Not until the planes began returning within an hour or two of take off, bearing reports of abysmal weather – little to no visibility, high winds, heavy snow. All but one plane had returned by sundown.

It was not unheard of for things to go awry during training. Plenty of statistics outlined the dangers of just learning how to fly a B-17, never mind taking it into combat. But this would be the first for the 100th.

As to what you were doing here, participating in this vigil – that was certainly more complicated. A question you were not entirely equipped to answer. All you knew is that you had found it impossible to consider turning in the for night with the status of his entire crew unknown. Croz had proven himself a humble gentleman, Hambone more of an enigma, while Hoerr seemed polite enough – holding doors for any lady who crossed his path, no matter what her occupation.

Perhaps it was the question mark that hung over the fate of those ten men that left you feeling so unsettled, seeking the company of the likeminded in the brightly lit, uncharacteristically quiet Club. The sound of the door closing lifted your, and everyone else’s, head, your heart leaping into your throat as Flescher stepped into view. The entire crowd seemed to hold its collective breath, waiting on the 418th’s CO to speak, until Bucky sidled up behind him grinning broadly.

“Crash landed in Wyoming, all ten of ‘em are shaken up but fine.” Egan crowed, basking in the cheer of delight that went up from the collected officers.

Exhaling in relief, you sank lower in your chair, taking a deep sip to finish your drink as Matthews was quickly put to service pouring celebratory shots.

“That’s my cue.” You nodded to Thornton, standing wearily, feeling suddenly fatigued as the nervous worry that had been keeping you awake rapidly leeched from your body.

“Not staying to celebrate?” She quirked an eyebrow.

“I’m already up way past my bedtime, Ma’am. Merry Christmas.” You repeated with a nod, setting your empty mug on the return cart before sliding around the perimeter of the room to avoid getting ensnared in any raucous celebrations.

The night air was cold, sending your hands diving into the fleece-lined pockets of your jacket, breath misting from your lips as you made your way back to barracks. Getting ready as quietly as possible, adding a few more pieces of wood to the stoves before shuffling towards your bed, you turned to the rack beside yours as Lionheart whispered your name.

“Yeah?” You replied just as quietly.

“What’s the word?”

“Safe in Wyoming.”

“Mmm that’s good.” She murmured, voice laden with sleep as she turned over, falling still as she was soon unconscious once more.

Sliding onto your mattress and pulling the blankets right up to your chin, you swallowed tightly as you found yourself wholeheartedly in agreement. It was good that they were safe. Every single one of them. Even that irksome Brady.

They were back on base within two days, a new plane arriving for them just one day after that – war production had vastly improved, even in the last two months. They returned to a Group in the midst of packing up to move to yet another base, another phase of training.

Sioux City, Iowa was your next home, located at the convergence of the states of Iowa, South Dakota, and Nebraska. Arriving the very first day of 1943, the only warmth was in the greeting from the local ground crew, the 100th’s having split off to Kearney, Nebraska to receive their next phase of training separately. The temperature was all of nine degrees, the cold of the wind gnawing at any exposing skin and laying down thick sheets of ice on the runways.

Despite hygiene regulations requiring space between beds, everyone in the barracks found it a great deal warmer to sleep as close to one another as possible, cots pushed together, huddled under as many blankets as could be found, some even resorting to their high-altitude gear to get comfortable. The deep freeze held Iowa tight in its grasp and did not let go for the first week of January. Aircraft engines refused to start, more than a few personnel were injured due to slips and falls on the treacherous ice lurking beneath skiffs of powdery snow or deceptively coloured as black as innocuous concrete.

The 100th found itself grounded at the mercy of mother nature, the vast majority of your colleagues revelling in the proximity to the city and its numerous USO dances. You, yourself, found the lull in activity and purpose tedious.

Burying your nose into the fleecy collar of your flight jacket after yet another failed attempt at a practice mission, you parted ways with your frostbitten crew. The invitation to spend another afternoon in the women’s make-shift club poring over the haul of fashion magazines Nita had procured on her trip off base make your stomach turn and you eagerly pointed your toes towards the hangar to see what the boys in the ground crew were up to. While you might not be able to get up into the air today, you could at least spend time with experienced technicians and perhaps learn a thing or two.

Pulling open the heavy man-door, you stepped into the slightly warmer space where the sounds of repair and idle chatter bounced off the metal roof and walls. There were a few other officers in attendance, most likely longing to be in the air, same as you, but stuck here on the frozen plains with nothing better to do than watch the men in grease-stained coveralls dissemble engines and work on the guts of the machines they normally flew in.

There was one man, off to the side, with several open cans of paint, carefully working on some nose art on a rather spotless looking aircraft. Raising a curious eyebrow as you found painting to be a rather optimistic endeavour in these temperatures, you found your feet carrying you in his direction, peering over at the tail number. ‘42-300071’ you noted with a slight huff. Brady’s new plane, of course. At the sarcastic exhale, the unfamiliar man looked up to you quickly and you stepped closer to address him properly.

“Pretty sure you’ve got the lettering wrong there, Sergeant.” Your lips twitched playfully, watching him pale nervously as his eyes darted back to the three-quarters finished ‘Skipper.’

“M…Ma’am?” He squeaked out nervously, drawing the attention of several passers-by.

“That should most definitely read ‘Brady’s Crash Wagon.’” A grin snuck its way onto your lips as the hangar erupted with laughter, a rather perturbed John Brady stalking around the nose of the plane to eye you in annoyance.

Sinking your teeth into your lower lip, lest you burst out laughing, you could not help but notice that his cap was pulled low on his head, pushing his ears out slightly, giving him the appearance of an overgrown field mouse. Raising a shoulder in a half-shrug of nonchalance, you continued on your way towards an engine stripped of its parts, crouching down to watch the technician hard at work on one of the gears – a tiny yet integral piece.

“You’re a real cut-up, Bo Peep.” Egan beamed, clapping you on the shoulder playfully, driving that laugh that had been stubbornly hovering in the back of your throat past the barrier of your lips as you straightened to face him. You could not help but notice the faint-hearted laugh he produced, the fact that the expression did not quite reach his eyes.

“You ok, Major?” You murmured, referring to him by his recently promoted rank.

His eyes met yours, studying you for a moment before he nodded and offered a wink. “Just fine, Bo Peep. Stay warm, huh?” He patted your shoulder again before moving along, leaving you alone with your confusion and growing sense of unease.

A glance back over your shoulder at the flushed face of Brady, surrounded by his bright-faced comrades as they watched the final touches being put on the nose of his plane provided no insights. Bucky’s uncharacteristic moment of solemnity became did not become more understandable until Thornton cornered you a few days later with the news that Wing was reticent to certify the 100th for overseas combat. The lack of flying days here in Iowa, combined with the limited planes available at the outset in Washington, capped off with the disorderly transition from base to base – including one particular crew’s detour to Minneapolis to send a message via wrench dropped out of a machine gun port…well it had all raised a lot of doubts in the minds of your superiors.

“How bad are we talking here?” You murmured, leaning in closer as a few girls filtered by towards the showers. “A complete failure of the experiment?” Your throat clenched painfully around the words, feeling more than a little queasy at the thought that after months of hard work, you might be packing it up to head home anyway.

“Dutch doesn’t foresee it being quite so dire, just promise me you’ll keep your nose clean, Lieutenant. We’ve been perfect thus far, now we must be simply flawless.”

“Understood, Ma’am.” You nodded quickly, parting with a sharp salute, hurrying toward the Mess Hall to dig into some breakfast.

The warmth on the breeze, a sudden turn in the weather, was a hopeful sign and one that did allow you all to get back into the air. Your efforts to arrange Deep in the Heart of Texas for the 280th’s band to play for Thornton on her birthday, in honor of her home state, also proved an excellent distraction. While the vast majority of officers had absconded off base for one of the ubiquitous USO dances, you had taken up residence in the corner of the Officer’s Club, taking the record player hostage as the Ladies Club did not have one on this base. With your one purchased copy of the score, and multiple handwritten versions spread out on the table before you, Matthews groaned as you set the needle on the outside of the record to play the song yet again, wanting to read through the clarinet part you had just written out.

“I’m so sorry, I promise I’ll buy another drink in a moment and improve your sales for the night.” You glanced back over your shoulder at him apologetically, startled to meet the blue eyes of Brady, leaning up against the bar.

“Whatever you say, Lieutenant.” Matthews huffed good naturedly and you jerked your focus back to the task at hand as the voice of Bing Crosby, playing significantly quieter than usual, still managed to fill the basically empty club as your eyes traced along your penciled in notes.

As the song came to end, you lifted the needle, the tuneless scratching of vinyl ceasing, as you tapped your pencil against your lower lip in thought. The arrangement seemed fine in all honesty, but fine was most definitely not what you were aiming for with your birthday tribute to the inspiration for your entire squadron. Pulling the score for the trumpets closer you exhaled heavily, once again debating about which instrument ought to be carrying the melody in the second verse when a voice startled you from behind.

“Saxophones ought to be stepping out there.” Brady murmured thoughtfully, ice clinking against the side of his glass as he took a sip.

Shoulders stiffening nearly to your ears, you glared down at the page before you. “Of course you would say that; you spend all your spare time with a reed in your mouth.”

Huffing a little, he settled down, completely uninvited, in the chair to your left. “Look here, horn lady,” his annoyingly elegant finger jabbed into the sheet music, “you’re overlooking a powerful and impactful instrument that would add dimension to this section.”

Wrenching your eyes from his insistent digit to his stubbornly set face, his jaw jutting slightly forward, you began to regret referring to his mouth earlier as your eyes were tempted to drift there. “You forget that I only have two to rely upon.” You countered quickly, trying to distract yourself.

“Only takes one good saxophone to steal the show.” He replied with a minute smirk, slowly sipping his drink and making you grit your teeth before pulling the scores together.

Using your eraser, you made his suggested changes for the second verse, putting the saxophones in the spotlight and the clarinets on harmony, before setting it all in front of him. “You listen, I’ve stared at this far too long.”

Standing quickly, you set the song to play once more before stalking over to the bar, intent on fetching the drink from Matthews as promised. Assuming the lean Brady had occupied a few minutes prior, you were pleasantly surprised to see him still sat at the table, diligently reviewing the music before him as the song played. Paying and tipping Matthews handsomely as you accepted your beverage, your lips parted in surprise as Brady went to the lengths of setting the song to play again.

“Christ almighty, there are two of you now.” Matthews groaned bitterly and you shot him yet another apologetic grimace.

“Sorry, Matthews.”

“Whatever, just…I’ll be in the back doing stock if anyone needs me.” He sighed dramatically, tossing his towel over his shoulder and disappearing through the doorway behind the bar.

Returning to the table slowly, you swallowed to find Brady jotting down his thoughts on the back of a spare sheet. Resuming your seat carefully, so as not to disturb him, you froze slightly as he suddenly turned his gaze to you.

“It’s a fair start–” He began and so did your struggle to actually listen to the rest of what he had to say rather than immediately fight back defensively.

Though it utterly galled you to admit it, he made numerous good points. You had heard he was a professional musician, had done his degree in music, played with Bunny Berrigan. Hell, you had seen and heard him play yourself at that holiday concert. And his acumen was showing here again, right now. Swallowing your pride, as much as it painfully scraped its way down your throat, you forced yourself to take his advice, to make the changes. Until it came to your substitution for the claps during the refrain.

“I say keep them with the horns, but don’t play these notes, actually clap – you’ll get the audience to join in.”

Your pencil halted in place above your score, head jerking up to look at him. “You’d reduce us to percussion.” You said flatly, tone dripping with disbelief.

Sighing impatiently, he leaned back in his chair crossing his arms. “Fine, someone needs to clap. Your bandleader?”

Raising both your eyebrows, a laugh of disbelief escaped you. “Keever?! Oh that’s rich she’d…” your voice trailed off as you imagined her displeasure. How annoyed she would be at such a lowly job and yet how easily explainable it would be. A dark grin of delight tugged at your lips, and you nodded firmly, grabbing the clarinet score and making a special note, just for Keever.

“Once more, to be sure?” He asked around the pipe now clenched in his teeth, and you nodded firmly, laying the parts at an angle between the pair of you as he set up the record to play one more time, the heavy thud of a box being dropped on the bar sounding from behind you.

The pair of you glanced back to see Matthews disappearing back into the stockroom, muttering unintelligibly under his breath, before turning back to look over your handiwork, nodding along quietly as the song played before you leaned back with a sigh of relief.

“That’s it.” Brady nodded, turning off the record player, curls of smoke trailing from his lips.

Nodding as you finished the dregs of your drink with one deep swallow, you moved to assemble your papers into order, blinking as he held out the record for you to tuck away into its sleeve. Not quite capable of offering words of thanks to the man, you opted instead to provide a deep nod of gratitude, packing it away and heading out for the night.

The band had a week and a half to perfect the piece, using every available moment to practice. The unfinished pool, construction halted for the winter, proved to be the perfect space to keep the endeavour secret – though both yourself and Keever found it much harder to explained prolonged absences to Thornton. After one too many close calls, and one rather intense exchange involving a remarkable amount of perspiration for January in Iowa, you found it necessary to employ the assistance of Egan to keep her off the scent. The man proved more than eager and up to the task at distracting her with inane drabble or outright chaos as the situation warranted.

He was with her right now, distracting her with some meeting along with Dutch, Cleven, Kidd, Flescher, Alkire…at least you were desperately trying to convince yourself that was all it was – and not the dire news you had been praying would not come to pass. Andie shouted your name, drawing your eyes from the blur of music stanzas in front of you to where your Co-pilot was setting down a large slab cake with the assistance of Lionheart.

“Here??” She called again and you gave her the thumbs up through the clouds of balloons and streamers – the decorations having reached astronomic proportions under Bucky’s insistence.

Turning back to warming up, your attention was once again snagged by actions on the floor as Dutch hurried in with Cleven, sliding his blunt fingers into his mouth and giving a sharp whistle. “She’s two minutes out! Places!”

There were times when you questioned the military training of the members of the 100th, but this was not one of them. With surprising efficiency, all of those gathered, including the enlisted women with special permission to enter the Officer’s Club for the evening, quieted down and assembled along the sides of the room emptied of furniture to allow for the extra bodies. You barely registered the opening of the door before a great cheer when up, Keever turning to the band expectantly. Holding the opening note of Happy Birthday for a few beats until the crowd took the cue, she signalled with a bob of her head to proceed with the rest of the tune, the band playing as the crowd eagerly sang to the blushing woman as Bucky guided her to the over-sized cake on the bar.

There were more cheers, which then tripled in volume once she blew out the candles and then, at last, came time for your surprise. Taking a moment to wipe the sweat from your palms onto your olive drab skirt while the attention of the crowd was elsewhere, you took a steadying breath as Keever turned back to begin Deep in the Heart of Texas. As you had assumed, there had been a great deal of push back from her regarding the refrain claps, but you had done an admirable job selling her importance of that role as bandleader. And watching her eyes light up upon taking in the force with which the crowd executed those claps along with her convinced you that it had been worth it.

Damn that John Brady.

Shuffling from the bandstand to thunderous applause at the end of the song, you smiled to Matthews gratefully as he cued up the record player, revellers taking to the dancefloor as you moved to find your instrument case to pack up.

“Lieutenant.” Thornton’s voice cut through the din as her hand landed on your shoulder with a squeeze. Turning to face her warmly, your eyes widened as she pulled you close in a warm embrace. “Thank you.” She said emphatically in your ear.

Pulling back with a quizzical look on your face, she cracked a small smile.

“Egan.” She clarified and you shook your head with a smirk, feeling the expression leech away as her face fell solemn.

“Ma’am?”

“It’s not dissolution but…more training. A month at least.” She leaned in, confirming that the meeting had, in fact, not been a ruse.

Setting your mouth into a grim line, you exhaled deeply through your nose, nodding once to show you had heard her even if you did not fully understand the reasoning. Parting from you with one final squeeze of your shoulder, you turned to wend your way through the raucous crowd, punching the door open into the frigid night, forgetting all about your case. You were about ten steps away from the building when you heard Brady calling your name.

Turning back sharply, you saw him jogging over to you, trumpet case in hand. “It was good.”

Snagging it from him roughly, you gulped. “Not good enough.”

“What are you talking about?” He tilted his head, acutely resembling a bewildered puppy.

Casting your eyes around the desolate exterior of the building and finding only the ghosts of your exhales hanging in the air, you swallowed. “We’re not getting certification.”

His gaze hardened. “Your scores are perfect.” He muttered, tone soured by what you could only assume was envy.

Brady’s reply wrung a bitter laugh from your aching chest. “I could turn water into wine, Brady, and they would say it’s because I can’t make beer. Besides, they’re not going to certify one crew, one squadron even. It’s the whole Group or nothing.”

“Damn.” He grunted. “Do you know how long?”

“A month, at least. Just pray it’s not in this desolate ice field.” You shook your head, leaving him alone in the freezing night.

It was not. At least not for the 418th and 280th. Two days after Thornton’s tainted birthday celebrations, you were on the move once again, to Boise, Idaho. The semi-arid conditions there brought a return temperatures in the forties and regular training flights without the same biting cold of Iowa. It did little to lift the spirits of the splintered squadrons, the 349th, 350th, and 351st scattered hither and yon, the entire Group’s future feeling utterly precarious despite Thorntons assurances that it would not be a permanent separation.

Certain men, of whom Pratt was the most vocal, were more than happy to lay the blame at the feet of the women of the 280th, but in comparison, both on paper and in the air, your squadron was unquestionably outperforming any other as the calendar turned first to February and then onto March. Temperatures rose, the spring rains came to the Treasure Valley, and Blakely married his Sioux City sweetheart, shipped in by train for the occasion accompanied by Hambone’s wife.

You had been learning more than just their names during this prolonged period of training in exile, finding that not only had the weather thawed but so too had some of their reticence to interact with the ladies of the 280th as equals. That was, of course, not to say that things did not remain frosty between you and Brady – no, that friction would most likely never resolve, but perhaps the pair of you might be able to function as colleagues.

March 29 dawned warm and remarkably humid, sending your eyes suspiciously skyward to assess the seemingly innocent clouds scudding along briskly in the stiff breeze. Halting your steps on your way to the Mess Hall, you planted your hands on your hips and furrowed your brow, doing your best to ignore the way Andie was snickering at you.

“You trying to give Stormy a run for his money?”

Shaking your head with a sigh, mostly at yourself, you put one foot in front of the other to continue onward toward breakfast. “Weather’s off, that’s all.” You shrugged and held the door open for her to make up for delaying her meal.

With a nod of thanks she stepped into the Officer’s Mess, usually filled with a mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces here in Idaho. In a way it had been a blessing your squadron had been sent along with another – it limited the number of unpleasant encounters with each new Group rotation, watching some other bunch of men making their way through training more expediently than the 100th also had the added benefit of forging deeper bonds between your two squadrons. The Mess was quieter today, however, the members of the 393rd Bomb Group off on an early morning mission. They would surely be moving on next week and the question on everyone’s mind was, would you also get that chance?

It had been a cramped stay, with no spare buildings for the women to make their own club, no time or space for the band to practice. The desire to get certified and get into combat was searing inside everyone by now, it was just a matter of convincing Wing that you were truly ready. Bellies full, crews were assembled and loaded onto transport trucks after the briefing. Dual squadron bombing run without ordinance was the order of the day, but you found your eyes narrowing in on the clouds beginning to grow vertically over the valley as the heat of the day increased under the influence of the sun.

“If the weather allows…” You muttered under your breath to yourself as you jumped off the truck in front of your plane, which the girls had lovingly named ‘Ice Box’ thanks to the cold temperatures you all endured while flying inside it.

“Ok, Stormy.” Andie sassed, happy to assure you she had overheard your pessimism before she slid aboard, making you roll your eyes as you followed.

You wished you had not been right. In fact, there were a lot of things you wished went differently that day.

Take off was rough, the plane buffeted by cross winds and turbulence that had even the seasoned members of your crew questioning the wisdom of their generous breakfast. After much discussion between Blakely and Thornton, the squadrons pushed higher to try and find a smoother altitude above the clouds. The problem was the clouds only continued to bubble and boil higher and higher into the stratosphere, seeming to chase your aircraft.

Glancing out the small window to your left, you frowned as there was no friendly flat-top to these clouds, apparently nothing to limit their towering heights. Listening to nothing other than the sound of your own exhales echoing harshly against the rubber of your mask, you bit off a curse and made the decision to call the lead plane of your squadron to express your concern about the obvious storm clouds.

“Zoot Suit three to Zoot Suit lead.”

“Go ahead.” Came Thornton’s reply, tone perfectly even.

“I’m thinking these storm clouds are more dangerous than they look.”

“Zoot Suit three, same conversation occurring in our cockpit, standby.”

Exhaling slowly, both relieved that she agreed and yet tension increasing now that your sense of apprehension was validated, you nearly missed the bolt of lightning that jumped from one cloud to another in front of the nose of your plane. The thunder, however, was inescapable, the airframe of your B-17 rattling with the proximity of it.

“Well!” Andie huffed. “Think that oughta convince her.”

You were about to reply when a forceful updraft caught the underside of the left wing, driving the plane towards the underside of Biddick’s fort above you, cockeyed, but at such an acute angle you were increasingly at risk of stalling out and sliding backward into the 280th’s formation behind you.

“Shit.” You hissed before barking out to the crew. “Hold on!”

Grasping the throttles, you split the right backward and the left forward, trying to drive the left wing downward as you pulled on the yoke to bank clear of any other planes. The engines whined at the sudden and disparate demands, but thankfully complied, the aircraft spiralling down and away from causing any harm to those around you. Gritting your teeth against the force of the turn, you fought to level out once you had dropped clear, shooting Andie a grateful look as her hand joined yours on the throttle and you pulled on the yokes together.

Chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath, the adrenaline was still singing through your veins as Thornton’s voice came through your headset.

“Zoot Suit lead to Zoot Suit three, everything all right down there?”

“Levelled out now, yes Ma’am.” Your voice was embarrassingly thin but nevertheless audible.

“Zoot Suit lead to all Zoot Suit pilots, Charlie, Delta, Eight, Niner, Alpha, Echo.”

Heaving a sight of relief as she called out the scrub code for your squadron, you remained at your lower altitude, watching the 280th peel off and descend before moving to join their tail as they headed back to base.

“Red Meat lead to all Read Meat pilots, following suit.” Came Blakely’s call shortly after was very validating to hear, though the derisive snort emanating from Pratt made your grip tighten painfully on the controls.

“One dumb girl can’t control her plane and we have to scrub?” He remarked snidely across all the channels, making your blood boil.

“Red Meat six, you have been given the order to scrub, you will turn that plane around or I will take it up with Flescher the moment we land.”

Instinctively looking over your shoulder told you nothing, nothing visible but empty sky from your vantage point, but from the sounds of it, Pratt was continuing on along the mission route, through the thickening clouds and almost persistent thunder.

“Coward…” Was the last transmission, a cruel barb that made your very skin crawl as you would have happily defied that label being applied to any person in the air at the moment, even if it cost you your life.

No further arguments exchanged, you were left the assume that Pratt had complied. Rain opened up, an obscuring curtain of water that nearly hid the runway from view. Mercifully, you were not the first to land, relying on those that found the ground safely before you to help guide you out of the unfriendly sky. Taxiing to your hardstand, you were in the process of removing your flying helmet when Pratt’s plane, being batted about in the wind as though it was crafted of paper, made your breath catch in your throat. Lightning tore through the sky once more, that clouds having since coalesced into one solid wall of black behind him, making the mighty flying fortress appear small.

The sight of an updraft snagging his plane, an occurrence not dissimilar to that which you and your crew had narrowly escaped, sent your heart plummeting, your eyes sliding shut in resignation as the aircraft was thrown helplessly higher into the sky before arcing viciously towards the ground. The resulting cacophonous boom of the explosion, distinct from thunder, had the ladies still sheltering inside the bomber crying out in terror.

“Who was it?”

“Oh god we gotta go help them!”

“No one coulda survived that…”

Yanking the helmet the rest of the way off your head to remove the headset from your ears, you pressed your thumb between your eyebrows to fight off the intense wave of nausea threatening you. The bitter taste of bile was in the back of your throat, creeping higher, and you struggled to take calming breaths as the storm continued to rage outside.

There was not a kind bone in that man’s body, but you had not wished him death. Not even after he accused you of incompetence, nor each and everyone of you of cowardice. Wrenching the sliding window of the cockpit open you stuck your head out the side to lose the remnants of your breakfast, warm rain pelting your face in the process, washing away the evidence.

Retreating back to your seat, you looked to Andie startled as she held out a handkerchief, by some miracle keeping all commentary to herself for once. Quickly drying your face, you tucked it into your pocket with a nod of thanks before wending your way back toward the hatch, coaxing the wide-eyed, shocked girls from the plane and into the covered crew truck to be ferried back to the briefing hut.

That interrogation felt a lot less like practice, Dutch making a beeline for your table and leaning in closely to listen in on your description of the evasive action you had taken, followed by your crew’s collective description of the crash.

The entire room felt muted, everyone’s voices lowered, hushed, like you were already attending the funerals of those eleven men – Pratt’s crew and their experienced observer – who had fallen out of the sky trying to land in the storm.

Maybe if Pratt had turned around when Blakely ordered, he could have beaten the brunt of it. Or maybe there had been nothing that he could have done.

You were starting to feel sick again, excessive perspiration accumulating beneath your flight suit, driving you to open it halfway. Rising quickly to your feet as soon as you were dismissed, you stepped outside desperately to gulp in the fresh air, finding it smelling sweet and feeling cool now that the storm had passed, taking all the humidity with it.

“Bo-peep!” Blakely called out and you turned to see him standing off to the side with a few pilots from the 418th, sharing matches to light their preferred delivery methods for their precious tobacco.

Swallowing hesitantly as he waved you over, you took another life-saving breath of restorative air before moving to join them, more than a little curious at the invitation.

“What did you do before all this?” He asked, pulling a cigarette from behind his ear to light once the book of matches reached him.

Furrowing your brows slightly as you looked from him to Biddick, then Brady, it slowly dawned on you that this was some odd form of acceptance into the group. Tucking the piece of gum you had been fervently chewing to overcome the taste of vomit into your cheek, you shrugged.

“Crop-dusting, mostly, odd jobs in the winter.”

His brown eyes widened slightly as he exhaled a thick cloud of smoke up and away from you. “You flew before joining up.” It was not a question, more of an ‘aha!’ statement.

Nodding slowly, you tucked your thumbs into the corners of your pockets. “Almost two years.”

“How’d you get out of that updraft?” Brady’s blunt question cut through Blakely’s moment of revelation, drawing all eyes onto him.

His fingers were tightly grasping the bowl of his pipe, eyes fix firmly on you.

“Yeah, you didn’t even clip the lady beside you, spin out, stall, nothin’.” Biddick shook his head in disbelief.

Bowing your head slightly under the intense scrutiny and praise, you shrugged humbly before taking a breath, trying to remember what you had even done. It had all been instinct. “Split the throttles to overcome the punch to the left wing, took her down in a sharp turn, then Andie and I levelled her out together.” You spoke slowly as each motion came back to you.

“Well, hell, you be sure to tell me anytime I need to stay away from a cloud alright?” Blakely smirked and you laughed softly in surprise.

“Will do.” You nodded in return.

You felt comfort in the sudden levity, in the grins they sent your way, the claps they landed on your shoulder. You had earned their respect, even if it had taken nearly five months, and it meant a lot.

Even if Brady was staring at you silently with his striking blue eyes, his pipe clenched between his teeth.

-------------------------

The Last To Know Masterlist

Tag list: @luminouslywriting, @dustofbrokenheart, @precious-little-scoundrel, @beingalive1, @phyllisthefirst, @bcon24, @louzello

[dearstvckyx]

Flufftober | 10.04 |

Rained In - Luke Hughes ft Umich Boys

The rain poured incessantly outside the University of Michigan dorms, tapping rhythmically on the windows and turning the usually vibrant campus into a gray wash of water and fog. Inside, however, a cozy atmosphere prevailed. Luke Hughes and his friends, Dylan Duke, Ethan Edwards, and Jacob Truscott, were huddled in Luke’s dorm room, seeking refuge from the downpour.

“Man, I thought we’d get some sun today,” Jacob complained, flopping down onto Luke’s bed. “This rain is relentless!”

“Tell that to the forecast,” Ethan chuckled, glancing at his phone. “Looks like we’re stuck here for a while.”

Luke, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside his coffee table, glanced toward the door. “We could call it a study day,” he suggested with a devilish grin.

Dylan smirked. “Or we could have a game day! Mario Kart, anyone?”

The guys erupted in laughter as Ethan pulled out his Nintendo Switch, and within moments, the room was filled with competitive banter.

Just as the games were heating up, a knock at the door interrupted them. Luke opened it to find his girlfriend standing there, her hair damp from the rain and a bright smile breaking through her slightly soaked appearance.

“Babe! Perfect timing,” he said, stepping aside so she could enter. “We were just about to do some serious gaming!”

“Really? Gaming? In a storm? This sounds like the perfect way to spend the day!” She beamed, shaking off an umbrella and taking a seat on Luke’s bed next to Jacob.

The rain continued to pour outside, creating a cocoon of sound that felt both calming and electrifying. Luke took a moment to appreciate the scene before him—his friends surrounding him, laughter and playful shoving, and his girlfriend right by his side.

As the game commenced, the competitive atmosphere kicked into high gear. Mia was surprisingly fierce, yelling at the screen as she maneuvered her character through chaotic racetracks. It wasn’t long before she matched Dylan’s fierce competitive spirit, and the two were locked in a heated rivalry.

“What? How are you so good?” Dylan exclaimed after Mia expertly took the lead, her determination evident in the fire in her eyes.

“Maybe you should watch and learn, Duke!” Mia quipped back, a teasing smile gracing her face.

As the laughter echoed off the walls, Luke felt a swell of happiness. Amid the chaos of college life and the pressures of academic and athletic responsibilities, moments like these reminded him of the simple joys that grounded him.

Just as the guys were engaging in some good-natured trash talk, the lights flickered once, twice, and then went out completely. A brief silence fell over the room before it erupted in laughter again.

“Great! We’re officially doomed,” Jaco joked, digging his phone out for light.

“Great timing, huh?” Ethan said, snickering. “Looks like it’s time for some old-fashioned storytelling.”

“Or maybe we can play by candlelight?” Mia suggested, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“I love that idea!” Luke chimed in.

They gathered around Luke’s desk, lighting a couple of small candles that Mia has bought the boys. It created a warm glow and a feeling of intimacy that broke through the earlier chaos.

As the night wore on, the storm outside faded, but the memories they created lingered sweetly in the dim light, marking the day forever in their hearts.

[ricky-tiki-tah]

Ego Headcanons: The Ipliers

Pt. 2

Iplier Manor is home to most of Mark Fischbach’s egos, the Ipliers.

Part 1

Google Blue(he/him): the head of the android family. Is the one that goes to meetings. Often helps Dark keep the schedule updated and followed.

Google Green-GG(he/him): generally easygoing and helpful. If you need a question answered, he’s the one to go to.

Google Red(he/him): very easily annoyed and tends to avoid Bing for that reason. Is not the one you want to ask for help with anything.

Google Yellow-Oliver(he/him): the most human of the Googles. He suspects it’s because he has a name and he’s tried giving his siblings names but they never stick. Spends most of his time with Bing or Eric (he enjoys the quiet company of the younger ego).

Bing(he/him): your basic skater bro. Enjoys annoying Blue. Is always very happy when Oliver agrees to watch him do tricks on his skateboard.

—The androids are their own family.

Reporter Jim-RJ(he/him): always has a microphone.

Cameraman Jim-CJ(he/him): always has a camera.

Anchorman Jim-AJ(he/him): knows thingsTM.

Weatherman Jim-DubJ(he/him): always has an accurate weather forecast.

—The Jims are clones. No one (besides Dark) knows where they came from but they call each other brothers. If more Jims appear, they will be immediately added to the family. They have some sort of hive mind/telepathy and often talk to each other nonverbally. Dark is strangely protective of them. Apart from the telepathy, they have no known powers.

Sliver Shepherd(he/him): doesn’t live in the Manor. Has a girlfriend. Only visits for mandatory meeting and Christmas. Has beef with his alter ego (nobody knows why, or how). - Powers: super strength/speed.

Dadiplier-Stan(he/him): BiAce but hasn’t really acknowledged it yet. Shares an apartment with Friendly J. Rarely visits, only for mandatory meetings. Generally friendly and easygoing guy. Typical suburban dad. Runs a water business (and is a drug dealer on the side) with Jimmy. Is a grade A criminal but you’d never suspect it. - Power: hydrokinesis.

Ed Edgar(he/him): doesn’t live in the manor. Runs a small illegal adoption agency for kids that have suffered abuse. Is really, really bad at advertising. - Power: unknown.

Captain Magnum(he/him): pirate dad. Doesn’t live at the manor. Very tallTM. - Powers: unknown.

Illinois Smith(he/him): pan adventurer dude. Lives in a separate cabin in the Iplier woods with Camper. The two keep an eye on Heehoo. - Powers: absurdly good luck

Camper Mark-Cam(he/him): lives with Illinois. Has a tent permanently set up beside the cabin for Heehoo when it rains. - Powers: unknown.

Heehoo(???): feral. Loves takis. Lives in the woods surrounding Iplier Manor. Really only interacts with Camper and Illinois. - Powers: unknown.

MerMark(he/him): merman with a rainbow tail. He has an aquarium like room in the manor that connects to the swimming pool and a lake in the woods by the cabin. He’ll see Heehoo every once in a while. - Powers: can talk to any aquatic creature.

King of FNAF-Mike(he/him): isnt actually a security guards for Iplier Manor. (He works at this pizza joint with haunted animatronics). Was later promoted to ceo. Hates his job (but can’t quit because FazEnt somehow basically owns him?? He doesn’t know when that happened either). Is terrified of animatronics and mannequins. Hangs around Dave mostly (he’s the only one awake when he gets off work and Dave is a pretty chill guy. He helps Mike calm down enough to sleep. Yes, Yan thinks they’re dating. Are they? They don’t even know themselves.) - Powers: heightened endurance.

Dave Torres(he/him): has no idea how he got to the manor and at this point is too scared to ask. Keeps to himself mostly but enjoys hanging out with Mike. Doesn’t need much sleep to function, but seems to always have a cup of coffee anyway. - Powers: dream walking.

Annus Memento(he/they/any): agender aroace god of time. Spends most of his time with Unus(possibly in a QPR). Absolutely hates being called “Old Man Time” despite that being his title. Followed constantly by the sound of a ticking clock (Elliot and Unus find it comforting). Is a wacky weirdo but can be serious. - Powers: time(controls the amount of time people have in their life, but can also warp time like if he wanted to run away from Dark after pranking him).

Eboy Mark-Elliot(he/him): gay e-boy and in a relationship with Gothan. One of the physically younger egos (around 20). Sees Annus as a father figure (Annus doesn’t understand how but accepts it as inevitable). Will occasionally call the other young egos his younger siblings. - Powers: unknown.

Convict-Vic(they/he): Largely nonverbal. Severely traumatized. Seems to be the embodiment of a pathetic sad puppy. Surprisingly doesn’t hate water (it’s clear and they can see through it well enough), but will not go in the pool/lake. No one actually knows what crime he committed and they’ve never said. Hangs around Engie the most, often just following him around like an extra shadow (he enjoys their warm hugs and the fact that Engie doesn’t expect them to talk). Will also sometimes hang around Annus, Dark, or Dave as well, seeing as they’re fairly calm egos and they let him just exist nearby and watch them do whatever they might be doing at the moment. Carries around a notebook for if they really need to say something. - Powers: unknown.

The Ipliers are always eager and open to answer questions :)

[knowledgechild]

You can find him in King's Alley, London.

It's near an Inn, called The New Inn

Just look for an alleyway with a panting of the god Terminus.

He will be waiting.

This was the massage that appeared in the latest safe house they were staying. She knew to trust it, it was her uncle who send it after all. But Rose was tired, tired of running, tired of hiding, but it was the only thing to do.

After that fated Serial Convention, which they called Cereal Convention, most of the most dangerous people in the UK were looking for her and her brother Jed, so they needed to hide, lest they die and meet their aunt way too early. So Rose and her brother made their bags, put on some inconspicuous clothing, along with the ever present rain coat, and left their current safe house to try and find this King's Alley.

_________________________

As soon as they passed the so called The New Inn, the alleyways got weirder, one had the painting of a goddess, Rose didn't know which, but had the smell of roses and blood? Well, Rose didn't know, but it was a metalic smell, almost like the smell of pennies. Another one had a half wall built from roof to the ground, stopping more or less 2 metres off the ground, with a very strange symbol drawn on it. But her uncle said to find the alley with the painting of the god Terminus, whoever he was, she hoped it was written.

Almost, as if reading her mind, she saw a wall, painted in what looked like graffiti paint, but much more alive and vibrant, and under the painting it was written:

Hic Terminus tutatus est

She didn't know what it said, as she didn't speak latin, but it was written Terminus, so it was probably it.

Taking Jed's hand, Rose entered the alley, and saw a small metal plate, engraved with the alleyway's name King's Alley. So it really was the right place. She didn't know what to expect, didn't know who her uncle said was waiting, but there was nowhere else to go.

Griping her brother's hand tightly, and holding her bag even tighter, they entered the alley.

Immediately they could tell the alley was much different than the street they just came from. For once, the alley was slightly warmer than the forecast told it would be, and second, it was completely dry. Which would be weird, considering they just came from a downpour, and were thoroughly drenched, but Rose learned a long time ago not to question the weird things that happend around her. And, considering the alleyway started with the painting of a god, could she be surprised that the alley was magical in some way?

"It's dry here, why is it dry?" Her little brother asked.

"Because it has a magical barrier that doesn't allow the bad weather to enter" Said a voice from behind them.

Turning, slightly startled, Rose saw a middle-aged man, with long brown hair that was braided to the side of his head, his hair was turning white at his temples which betrayed his age, his eyes were a warm brown, kind of like the coffee that Rose liked so much, but they also had an age to them. His skin was tanned, but not the fake way, but the way that it would get after various days working under the sun, his face was wrinkled with the marks of someone who smiled a lot, and he had a slight beard, which gave him the air of a dad, not a father, a dad.

The man was tall and broad, and he wore a dark brown overcoat, that was open in the front, his shirt was white, and he wore black pants and black combat boots. He also wore a necklace, it had two letters intertwined as a pendant, E&R. Perhaps his children? He was smiling, and his hands were in his pockets, that fact made Rose be alert.

"Don't worry Endless child, I won't harm you" The man said.

"How do you know that?" Rose asked in slight trepidation.

The man smiled "Your uncle send me, I belive he said something about me in his letter?"

"The only thing uncle Dream wrote about you was 'He will be waiting'" Jed said, trying to imitate their uncles deep voice in the end.

The man snorted, and looked up, almost fond, as if he knew that was going to happen because it happend often.

"Yeah that sounds like him, great imitation kid." He said "I believe your name is Jed right? And yours is Rose" He asked looking for confirmation in each of them.

"Yes, that's us, and you are?" Rose inquired.

"Oh silly me, where are my manners? My name's Hob, I'm an old friend of your uncles" He extended his gloved hand for a handshake, which Rose took.

"That's not your real name is it?" Rose couldn't help but ask.

"Well, technically it is, I mean, it's a nickname for my name, so it is my real name" Hob? said.

"What's your name then?" Jed asked.

"It's Robert, yound Jedi"

Jed giggled at the nickname, his love for starwars shining through.

"Should you be sharing you name like this?" Rose looked around in trepidation, as if one of the killers chasing her was going to jump out of a trash can and attack them.

"Oh don't worry, I'm not in danger here" The man, Robert, said, smile a bit bigger, as if what he said was the greatest joke in the world. "But let's get out of this wind, shall we?" He pointed towards something behind Rose and Jed.

___________________________

After climbing a short set of metal stairs, they came upon a heavy door, it didn't have any visible doorknobs so Rose didn't know how they were going to open it.

"I know you're wondering, the door opens by scaning your fingerprint here" Robert said.

And sure enough, and he put his hand near the door, a small compartment opened that was ready to scan his fingerprint.

"I already put both of yours in the system so don't worry okay, and don't ask how I got them" He said, looking at us with a smirk.

After scaning his fingerprints, Robert opened the door and allowed us to enter first. The room they entered was not very big, looking like a mixture of hotel lobby and mud room in a farm house, the walls were painted a muted petroleum blue, there was a small chandelier in the ceiling emitting pale yellow light, which brought to life the paintings and decorations scattered around the room. The paintings were of very realistic scenery, like wheat fields, sunsets and starry nights, there were some decorations hanging from the ceiling, Rose recognized a whale shark and a turtle, along with a few birds she didn't know the name of. Two of the walls were covered in cabinets, hooks and shelves to put shoes on.

"Please, put your shoes on these racks, we don't want to dirty the floor, and you two can hang your rain coats in these hooks, right here" Hob said pointing towards two hooks directly on top of the shoe rack.

They did as told, and Hob directed them towards a door Rose didn't noticed was there. The door was very different from the one they entered, it was wood for once, white wood, and it had a doorknob.

"Welcome to Salus Caelum" Robert opened the door while saying it, what was it with the latin? They were in England! "The translation of the name is Safety Heaven, so you can call it that"

Leading them deeper into the next room, Rose could see six doors, three on each side, each of them had a repeated number, like 222, or 777, Rose noticed the absence of the number 6, maybe it was superstition?

Hob lead them towards a door on the right, the number on it was 333, one of the most powerful numbers. 'Uncle Dream is not playing with our safety ', Rose thought.

Robert provided a key from somewhere and opened the door to the 333 room. "You will be staying here" He said without entering. "I hope it is for your liking, Dream told me some of your favorite things so I put them here. The fridge is fully stocked and the water's already heated, the bed was made and it was fully cleaned of any dust before you came, Dream told me of your allergy Rose, the food is vegan, and the TV has any and all streaming you would like. The only thing I ask is that you guy's try not to dirty or trash this place, and please always do the dishes and make the bed." He finished, Rose was speechless.

The room, more like apartment, was huge, Rose could move freely without bumping into anything. To her left was the kitchen, It looked like a professional one, the lower cabinets were, again, petroleum blue, the upper ones were white. This color palette of white and petroleum blue appeared in the entirety of the kitchen, including in the island, with the appliances being black. It was a beautiful kitchen, with natural light pouring in from the living room. Turning, she saw the space, with a big TV, bigger than she's seen in a while, and a very comfortable looking grey couch, with a very fluffy rug in front of it. Unlike the kitchen, the colors of the living room were grey and pink. Behind the couch it was the biggest window she had ever seen, going from wall to wall, with beautiful heavy grey and transparency white curtains. The walls of the apartment were painted a very light cream color, and the floor was dark wood and heated, the floor was heated , it was very pleasant to step in, after a day of wearing boots that didn't warm much.

"Down the hall you will find one room, with a bed for both of you, and the bathroom is connected to the bedroom. The wardrobe in the room has clothes for both of you, should you wish to change" The man continued, Rose was in awe.

What was this? The couldn't afford this, how were they to pay the man's hospitality?

Almost as if reading her mind, Robert said "And don't worry about payment, it was already taken care of, Dream is a very throughout being."

"He really is." Rose said, with a small nervous laugh.

"Well, I suppose I should leave you to it, enjoy your stay and any question or requests you have, you just have to use this phone here, and it will be answered" Hob pointed towards a phone connected to the wall of the kitchen that Rose hadn't noticed.

His smiled dropped, he looked serious and said "Oh another thing, both me and Dream agree that, while your here, you should leave only if absolutely necessary okay? If you need to leave, do not leave the alley, it is protected against outside forces that wish harm to those within them, so while you're here, you are completely protected. So don't leave the boundary lines, they are both indicated with paintings of Terminus. But overall enjoy okay? You can both relax here, nothing can harm you in this place." His smile was back, although smaller than before.

"Okay, thank you very much for your help, Hob" Rose said, slightly overwhelmed.

"Enjoy you stay!" Robert said while leaving.

____________________________

Coffee was brewing, not the cheap instant "coffee" that Rose was used to buy from the store, no this was good coffee, and she couldn't have been more happy for it.

After getting used to the house, Jed immediately went to take a shower. Rose finished undoing their bags, and opening blinds so the light could pour in. Now she was in the kitchen, a plate of fresh baked cookies on top of the island. She felt really lucky, how couldn't she, her uncle made everything possible for them to survive, and now he gave them this. A safe haven.

A noise took her from her thoughts, her uncle was here. He was leaning on the wall that separated the entryway and the kitchen.

"Hi" Rose said.

"Hello, Rose Walker" Said Dream

Her uncle stood and came to her side, stopping in front of her, and leaning against the island, copying her, that was leaning against the counter.

He was a tall and lithe man-shaped being, his hair was as dark as the darkest winter night, his eyes were icy blue as he masqueraded as a human being. He was pale, not deadly sick pale, but royalty pale, like he never had to work under the sun, his face was angular, with cheekbones that could cut you. He was wearing a black overcoat with black shirt and pants, but, funnily enough, he was wearing white combat boots. The most Goth man, with capital G, she knew was wearing white. Distantly, within her mind, she couldn't help but draw the contrast between her uncle and her current host, Robert. They were the complete opposite.

"Thank you, uncle Dream, for all of this" Rose couldn't help but show him how grateful she was.

"Tis was nothing, my niece, Hob did me a favor by agreeing to house you two" Dream answered.

"Robert said he was an old friend of yours, how did you two meet?"

"We met a long time ago, longer than any human today could comprehend, and recently became acquainted again, after my unfortunate stay with the Burgess family" Her uncle explained.

"So he's supernatural too?" Rose asked before she could think about it.

"Yes, in the sense he is more supernatural than any normal human, but no at the same time" Riddles at this time? She didn't have the mental capacity to unpack all of that right now.

"Could you explain what you mean?"

"Hob is immortal, completely human, although never-dying. We met at a tavern in 1389, where he was saying he would never die, in Death and I's presence, so my sister granted him his wish of never-ending life, and we started to meet every one hundred years, in the same day, at the same tavern." Dream developed his answer.

'Who you'd want to life forever? Sounds like torture ' Rose thought "Makes sense why he would say you two were old friends than"

"Yes, it does. I hope he was nothing but welcoming?"

"I don't think that man could be anything but welcoming, but yes he was"

Dream chuckled at that, his eyes wrinkled with crow's feet, like he was expecting that answer and was delighted from it.

"I should take my leave, I came to see if everything was alright, but it is clearly more than alright" He said nodding to the cookies and Rose's freshly brewed coffee.

"Yeah, everything's fine, more than that even, Jed will be sad he missed you." Rose stood up, to get herself a mug.

"Tell him I will see him tonight"

"Of course uncle. Thank you for everything, truly, Dream"

"It was a pleasure. Take care Rose Walker, I would hate to lose my favorite niece" He said with a smirk while walking away.

"But i am your only niece!" Rose shouted after him with a smile, the only answering sound was the deep laugh of Dream of the Endless.

[apprenticestanheight]

pls a Mark hoffman x male reader where him and the reader get cozy in a bookstore while it's snowing

Snow- Mark Hoffman x male! reader

ALLL right!! In the spirit of the fact that I am determined to get my requests under control coupled with the fact that a snowstorm blew through my province sunday night through midday yesterday, this request is a little holiday-happy-feely. It's also what I hope to be the beginning of a prosperous week--I have energy drinks, coffee and finally finished editing something I actually finished working on last week, so the goal is that I can focus on other things now and get stuff done lol.

Thank you for sending this in--I truly don't write for hoffman enough and I just knew, from the minute I read the request, that it was gonna come out really sweet. I love me some tooth rotting fluff and writing this was an absolute joy!

Fic type- fluff!!

Warnings- this is unedited (I was trying to finish it before the motivation went away and editing it hardly occurred to me bc editing is never motivating ever--but I did read through as I went to make sure the grammar and stuff wasn't TOO funky. Apologies if it still is tho)

You were standing in the bookstore a close friend owned, watching the weather forecast from a TV in their backroom while they finished up with customers when you first got the news of a very intense oncoming storm.

Jersey, as a whole, was looking at a median half a foot of snow over the weekend. Locally, though, two feet were the expectation. You had the thought to get home and make sure to turn the heat on so the pipes didn't freeze, but your phone was dead and you'd agreed to meet Mark at the bookstore and then grab a cab home together, so it wasn't really worth it. Plus--the snowfall in the first four hours wasn't expected to be too terrible. Driving conditions would be fine until midnight, at the very latest, which gave you plenty of time.

Your friend decides to close the bookstore early, and when Mark comes in fifteen minutes after they've decided to close, he's a sight for sorer eyes.

Your friend, having watched the snowfall to see just how inaccurate the newscaster had been, was setting up their backroom in case you all needed to spend the night there while you brewed up some coffee from the machine left somewhere to the right of the counter, right next to an advertisement stating that coffee, hot chocolate and tea all costed the hefty price of two quarters.

Mark is somewhat covered in snow--he shakes it from his hair and shoots you a happy, loving smile as he idly dusts it off his coat. Your friend greets him and Mark says his hello, running a hand through his hair as Quin--your friend--goes back to the backroom to finish setting it up.

"They said it wasn't supposed to be that bad," Mark notes as he approaches you in the dimly lit bookstore. "Strahm was a dick about it, though--sounded like he was sixty, complainin' about how storms in Jersey always seem a bit random. Perez had the graces to wish me luck, where Strahm just said to enjoy my walk. Don't think he likes me all that much, if I'm honest."

You shrug, passing him the mug of coffee you'd just made. "He's the new guy, Mark. Take it a little easy--not everyone sees the charm in Jersey, babe. Especially not with some serial killer on the loose. Maybe he's worried he's next for smoking cigarettes or something."

Mark laughs. Your heart swells.

"Think we'll get snowed in here?"

You laugh, starting another cup of coffee by placing a new K-pod into the Keurig. "I love Quin, but I really do hope not. As someone who studied for their college degree in that staff room, sleeping on that couch is not for the weak. I'm pretty sure it's old enough to drink, actually. I helped him move it in when he bought the place."

"Well, we'll figure something out."

You nod, grinning as Marks lips press a kiss against your cheek. "We always do, Mark. How was work?"

"It was work," Mark shrugs. "Shitty roads, more investigating, all of the fun stuff that comes with workin' at the precinct. How was work for you?"

"It was a day in the life of marketing," you shrug, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Numbers, people, crappy coworkers and slow computers. I can't wait for my week off on Monday--I will sleep in and for an entire seven days, I won't have to hear about Carol and her bunions or David and his grandmother. I hate the office I work in but the coworkers make it so much worse. Their incessant gossiping makes it hard to focus."

Mark laughs, and you laugh a little too while the coffee finishes pouring. You make it to your specifications and burn the roof of your mouth drinking it, but it's worth it because it tastes damn good.

Quin shows up with a defeated smile from the back room. "Hey, lovebirds," he greets. "You've got four hours before the roads start sucking ass to drive on, but from what it looks like, cab companies aren't going to let their drivers drive anyone home after ten. You're welcome to stay here and browse for a bit, drink coffee and Mark, I'm sure you'll have an excellent time while Y/N looks at the classics section that he loves so dearly, but I'll be leaving round ten thirty so I'd say it's best to be leavin' at nine thirty. That is, of course, if you have any hopes of getting a cab before companies start threatening to cut the wages of anyone still out and driving after the cut off."

You nod at Quin. "Thanks for the tip, Quinnie," you say. "We'll be out of your hair by nine thirty, we promise."

Quin shakes his head, waving a dismissive hand. "No worries, Y/N. Have fun with Detective Lip Filler."

Mark quirks an eyebrow while you laugh, shaking your head as if to say "don't ask, mark," and interlacing your fingers with his own.

Mark lets you lead him off, down one of many winding corridors in the bookstore. While you browse the shelves you and Mark talk--Christmas plans very quickly become a point of discussion, seeing that it's two weeks away and neither of you really know what the plan is just yet.

You know that Mark doesn't much talk to his parents--they're in their seventies as it were and subscribe to more...conservative points of politics and worldviews. Aside from them, he's not really got anybody and hasn't since his sisters death.

You figured he'd spend it with you, unless work got in the way as it had last year. Your tradition was simple--spend Christmas Eve at home, order Chinese takeaway, watch whatever crappy Christmas movies happened to be playing on the channel that was devoted to them during December and laugh at the bad acting.

Wake up Christmas morning, make cinnamon buns and bake a tray of brownies to take to your parents as you were always in charge of dessert. Make sure the gifts you'd bought for relatives were in your car and then drive the half an hour to your parents place. Spend the day there, leave with a quick hug to your parents and a promise to come around again around the new year, and then go home and smoke a bit of weed to relax and hit the hay early.

"You don't have to," you murmur, grabbing the penguin edition of Shakespeares 'Hamlet' and glancing the cover over. "It's just a suggestion--it's Christmas, Mark. Might be because I was raised with neighbors popping by for Christmas dinner, but Christmas is a shitty holiday to spend alone."

Mark nods. "I was hoping I'd get to spend Christmas with you anyway," he says, taking a sip of his coffee. "Will we have to act like we're just best friends, though? Or are your parents unopposed?"

"They know I have a boyfriend at present," you answer. Your relationship isn't new--it's been three years with him, but Mark has been busy with work and trying to keep a level head as things with Jigsaw have continued, so you've never really had the chance to introduce him to anyone in your family. "They also know what your name is--first, not last. And that you're a detective, and that you're really handsome. I promise, I haven't told them anything that would make them hate you. My mothers been eager to meet you since I brought you up, though. My exes were horrendous, according to her."

Mark laughs, and you let yourself grin. "I'll do my best to impress, then," he says. "We'll have to get them gifts, though."

"I've been meaning to do some Christmas shopping anyway--we'll go once the storm has cleared," you say. "And at this point, I think my parent's won't care about gifts, really. They just really wanna meet you."

You put Hamlet back onto the shelf and grin as Marks arms wrap around your waist after he's set the coffee mug on an empty shelf. You do the same and let your arms wrap around his shoulders, and silence settles.

You close your eyes for a second, listening.

"Can you hear it?" You ask after a minute, maybe two.

"Hear what?" Mark asks. "It's completely silent in here, Y/N--there's nothing to hear."

"The snow, Mark," you answer. "It might just be because my ears are good, but I can hear it hitting the windowsills."

"How?"

"I dunno," you shrug. "Just been able to since I was a kid. I knew it was snowing right when I woke up some days."

"I will add that to the catalogue of random things that've come to light at random times," Mark grins as your eyes open again. "Among the fact that your favorite color was green until you were twenty four, and the fact that you once got bitten by a stray cat so bad that you had to be put on antibiotics during your college days, and the fact that you've never liked daisies."

You laugh, shaking your head. "You love me and my randomness, Hoffman."

Mark nods. "That I do," he says.

The two of you end up sitting at one of the desks by the windows, drinking coffee and chatting until nine, when you leave to grab a cab home just to sit by your windowsill and watch the snow until you grow bored of it.

All in all, for a night in the middle of December, while the beginnings of a snowstorm rages on outside, it's a pretty good night.

[cringelordofchaos]

HEAVILY ND TWEEK MENTIONED. I WILL GIVE OFF RANDOM HEADCANONS

- he first is a low support needs level one autistic but after realizing his parents drugged him and they get arrested he gets so traumatized and tired he becomes a high support needs level 2 autistic

- he’s a DID system! Named the Sprucewood Syndicate. System of around seven, many based on roleplay personas from the past, like wonder Tweek, barbarian tweek and outlaw tweek. But since the alters are completely different people from tweek, they go by different names like Wonder, the Barbarian and Zeke. Also a British poet zombie guy from Victorian ages named mark. And some of his comfort plushies turned into alters. And iono from Pokémon

-(more autism) his special interests include legos, weather forecasts, Pokémon and sonic the hedgehog

-okay now onto schizophrenia! The drugs in the coffee messed up his brain that way. Doesn’t hallucinate much because of meds, but the delusions get bad. Had cotards delusion once, used to think he was being gangstalked, sometimes hallucinates Jason’s voice and has whole conversations with him. Often feels bugs crawling on him, but that’s mostly a meth induced psychosis thing. His psychosis was BAD after Jason’s death holy shit. He’s got a great support group for his schizophrenia luckily!

-tourettes 🐀 🐀 yeah those are more than twitches. He has klazomania, which means he has screaming tics. They make his throat sore, so he sucks on flavored cough drops for them. Also sometimes he jerks his neck so hard he tears a muscle and has to wear a neck brace

-epilepsy because…meth. Luckily he’s not the 3% of epileptics that are triggered by flashing lights. He usually seizes due to really really high stress.

- his adhd actually exists!!!! Combined inattentive AND hyperactive type. Sometimes all he does in a day is build legos. Don’t have much headcanons for this actually.

- OCD. Hates his intrusive thoughts. Obsessions are mainly about him dying in the present or further because of little things he does, and has compulsions he has to do so he doesn’t die, according to him. Most common compulsion is marching around in a circle exactly three times.

- I don’t have to explain the anxiety and panic disorders that’s literally him as a person

-C-PTSD, because being on caffeine and meth while autistic 24/7/365 will make you see things as more terrifying than a neurotypical. Think of Jason’s death, Richard pointing a gun at him, realizing he’s been drugged with meth, etc. because of this, in his teens he’s TERRIFIED on coffee, but therapy helps him as time progresses

-major depressive disorder :( Craig has it too to me so when one or both is going through and episode they both cuddle up and play with stripe and watch red racer and/or the weather channel

I probably missed a disorder (I ignored substance abuse disorder on purpose) but yeah!!! This bitch has very very divergent neurons!!!!! He’s the reason I wanna major in psychology in college

WHEN I RECEIVED THIS ASK I GOT SOOOO HAPPY

THIS IS ALL SO VERY REAL HOLY SHIT!!! I love this sm !!!!

im sorry but im imagining him in the future going to a psychiatrist to deal with anxiety and suddenly they diagnose him with like half of the disorders ever known to man and being like HUHHHH

sorry i dont have anything else to add i agree w all of these sm !! personally ive never thought about the possibility of him having DID but i can see it!!

god i love tweek sm

[2024nepeannationalpark]

Day 5: 15 Mar 2024

Not an early start because we need to ease ourselves in to this walking holiday. ����

Cereal all-round and then dressed to go walking. Today was forecast to be about 26 but fairly windy so we chose an inland walk and only about 10-11kms. We drove to the top of Arthur’s Seat and had a coffee before starting. All tracks were well marked and super well maintained. No fauna sighting but some poops about so they are there but not to be seen. A couple of laughing kookaburras but that’s all.

The walks were really nice with big views down to the port beaches below.

We had each made a wrap for lunch so found a nice bench towards the end of the walk to enjoy them.

Back in the car and the temperature was pretty warm (a black car doesn’t help) so Sharon was keen for a swim. Back down the hill to Rosebud which is the next town on from Dromana. Sharon and Paul had a dip but had to walk out quite a ways to find water deep enough to get wet.

Some extra groceries were picked up before heading home for showers, reading, etc.

I’m on dinner duties tonight so it’s a beef and vegetables pasta bake. 😋

[bikepackinguk]

Day Thirty-one

It's July! And a day ahead with some big milestones!

Had a nice soft comfy forest floor at Thrumster for angood night's sleep, filled up on breakfast, and it's off on the road once more a little after 9am.

After checking over the route followed yesterday, I'd clocked in a little over 60 miles with a wopping 1000m of ascent! I figure this may warrant a gentler day, but we know how that usually goes...

The air is a bit more chill this morning so the waterproofs are on before the get go to provide a bit more warmth, but they're going to be well needed over today.

A slight tailwind gives a nice easy cruise over to the town of Wick to stock up on a few more supplies and then it's time to push up the last of the east coast.

Heading out from Wick on the A99, the clouds begin to roll in heavily enough to darken the day almost as much as the night gets up here, and soon the rains descend whilet the earlier tailwind becomes a nasty sidewind.

As I get round to Westerloch the weather really begins in earnest, and soon it's sheeting down with the high winds strong enough to cause the rain to sting in my face. It's cold but there's not exactly a wealth of shelter around here, and I figure my best bet at keeping warm is to keep the legs pumping.

The terrain grants my desires as some nice big hills are once more thrown in the way, with a big long geins uphill needed before the sea appeara over the crest.

And with a short glide downhill from the summit, John O'Groates is reached!

It's been a good few years since I last made it up here but it's amazing to be back all the same. I post up in Stacks coffee house to warm up and dry off a little, before the weather finally clears and I'm treated to some sun and blue skies to dry off a little.

I opt for a good break here, recovering from the slog and having a good chat with other riders heading in from and to various locations. The place is a bit of a Mecca for cycling in the UK and there's plenty of smiles, congratulations, and wellwishing going around.

Arriving here marks the end of the run up the East coast! It's time to swing westward and tackle the North shore.

Whilst the rain has departed, the wind hasn't, and heading west out of John O'Groates sends us into a mighty headwind, which at times even means having to put some effort into the downhill stretches and makes it difficult to get above walking pace on the flats. It's a fine day otherwise though, with some beautiful views of the Orkney Islands rising out of the very blue sea to the north.

Further along there's another brutal challenge for the day, with a combination of a 4 mile ascent into the wind which takes a hell of a lot of effort.

At the top of the climbs though, Dunnet Head! The very northernmost point of Great Britain! The views up here are spectacular, with the cliffs below making me swear aloud when I first see them.

That makes two of the cardinal extremes of the island now visited!

Whilst the sun has been out a good while so far, there's a truly massive front of weather very clearly coming in towards me, and the forecast says it may be big enough to keep going until Monday, so despite it being just 6pm by the time I get to Dunnet Head, I figure it's a good plan to find somewhere a bit more sheltered to post up for the night.

Thankfully, all the slogging uphill means a terrific 4 mile zoom back down the road, and with a little more coasting past Dunnet Bay I've a bit of a sheltered spot to allow me to change into some warmer clothes and start getting some hot food in me.

One of the benefits of this journey being flexibility, I think that'll do for today's journeying and will reasses what the plan is for tomorrow in the morning.

TTFN!

[jow99]

Memories

We slept very well in our AirBnb. Sunday morning we headed out for breakfast back at Wetherspoons (I’m definitely going to need to go on at diet after this trip). We then spent the morning with David and had a video call with John and family. You’ve got to love modern technology and the ability to have a video call with family and friends on the other side of the World. My cousin Mark (David’s son) dropped by while we were there. It was lovely to see him and catch up.

In the afternoon Mum and I did a bit of shopping, first Boots and then Marks and Spencer’s (or M&S as it is now called). Boots was in the old precinct and I’m pretty sure the same store I first went to back in 1978. The M&S though is now on its own site next to a Sainsbury’s and is huge. We even had lunch there. By the time we’d had a wander around and bought some groceries Mum was getting a bit tired so we headed back for a quiet late afternoon and evening at home.

I forgot to say in yesterday’s blog that I’m being a bit tested by Google maps directing me in miles and feet. 1000 feet or 1/4 of a mile means nothing to me now 🙄.

Monday was forecast to be really cold and potentially snow. Thankfully that was not the case, in fact the wind was far colder yesterday.

This morning I blew any wifely brownie points I may have had by making Jose get up early to do a call with me to practice my Spanish. I’d got my times all wrong and so he waited 2 hours for my call 😬

This morning we picked up David and did a trip down memory lane. First stop was the cemetery to visit where Mum’s parents and sister are buried. We then went to their old school, Stamford park and the market hall. Mum has found the changes in Ashton a bit confronting but it was nice to see not everything has changed.

We then bought David back to our accommodation (which apparently use to be a school) for lunch. I have to say I’m awash with teas and coffees. The traditional of endless brews here certainly makes for numerous trips to the bathroom.

After lunch we headed back to David’s for a couple of hours. It’s lovely to hear them reminiscing and all the old family stories. Mum is really enjoying her time here.

Late afternoon we headed back to the AirBnb for a quiet night at home with some Spanish study for me and more tv watching 😁

Jose and his Mum have caught up with his cousins in Galicia (Tia’s sons) and also visited places of interest. Our culinary experiences though are vastly different.

[markandtrish]

Tuesday November 19th

Christchurch

Up for bacon sarnies, cooked in our room. A very nice studio with a small kitchen area, just enough to rustle up a basic meal.

All packed up and on our way by 10 to follow State Highway 1 north towards Christchurch. Not such exciting scenery today, the mountains were a bit further away and we weren’t in sight of the coast. Stopped for a coffee along the way and as we were too early to get into the flat we headed just north of Christchurch to New Brighton. A huge sandy beach with a pier, not much to compare it to our Brighton but a very nice white sandy beach that stretched for miles. We refuelled with coffee (got to say the coffee in NZ has been really good) and a sandwich before heading down to test the water. Reasonably warm but large waves today, it was quite windy.

After our stroll we headed back into the city to find our home for the next few days. A great flat just round the corner from the Cardboard Cathedral - erected as a temporary measure after the earthquake here in 2009 but still in use. Probably the best flat we’ve had so far this holiday.

A bit of a rest and unpack, time to put on a load of washing before heading out to explore a bit. Walked round the riverside market, an area of lots of different food and drink stalls so we stopped for Mark to try a beer.

After wandering for a while we found a little Malaysian restaurant where Trish had a chicken curry and Mark had belly pork, really tasty.

Wandered back to the flat to sit on the balcony for a while before getting ready for tomorrow’s trip to Arthur’s Pass. We did think yesterday that it might be cancelled due to bad weather but the forecast looks to have improved a bit.