#do people prefer to read long stuff on AO3?

[virescent-v]

For Secrets and Stakes...

[reiderwriter]

More Than Words

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader

Requested: yes

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.

You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!

Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”

It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.

“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.

“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.

“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.

“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”

“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.

“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.

“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”

“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.

“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”

“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.

“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.

“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.

–X–

Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.

At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.

“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.

“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.

“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.

“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.

“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”

“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”

“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.

“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.

“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.

“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”

“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.

“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.

“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”

With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.

“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”

–X–

The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.

“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.

“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”

“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.

“What was our first date?” He asked.

“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”

“What else have we done together?”

“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”

“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.

You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.

“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”

He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.

“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.

“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”

“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.

You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.

But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.

“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.

The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.

“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”

“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.

“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”

“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.

“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”

“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.

“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.

“Mom, how did you know…”

“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,

“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.

–X–

The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.

Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.

What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?

So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.

You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.

“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.

You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.

“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.

“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.

He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”

“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.

An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.

“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.

“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.

“I don’t pick my nails!”

“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.

“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”

“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”

“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.

“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.

“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.

“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”

“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”

“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.

“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”

“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”

“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.

“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”

“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”

“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.

“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”

“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.

“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.

“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.

“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.

“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”

“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”

“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.

–X–

“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.

“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.

“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.

“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.

You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.

“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.

“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”

You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.

“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.

“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”

“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.

“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.

“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.

“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.

“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.

“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.

“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.

“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.

“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.

–X–

You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.

To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.

“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.

“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.

“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.

“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.

“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.

“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.

His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.

“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”

“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.

–X–

The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.

You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.

So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.

You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.

You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.

You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.

“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.

“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.

“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.

“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”

“Three.”

“Three what?”

“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.

“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.

“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”

“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”

“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”

You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.

“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.

You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.

“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.

“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.

You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.

“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”

Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.

“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.

“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.

“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.

“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”

“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.

“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.

“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.

“Yes?”

“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.

But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.

“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.

He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.

“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.

“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.

“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.

It never did.

[loganwritesprobably]

Jealousy Headcanons

Wanted to switch up the character combo, but I know I have a good few Benn fans reading my stuff so I ofc had to include him

Content/Warnings: Jealousy headcanons about Mihawk, Benn and Smoker, GN!Reader, brief mentions of canon-typical violence, minor NSFW content

Mihawk didn't know he was the jealous type until he met you

He'd gone so long without a partner and been content that way, that if he'd really considered it he'd have assumed he would be a relaxed partner

He is not

He discovered that he's a possessive partner, and you are his

If someone approaches you in public, he begins with surprised amusement - when you're with him, few are brave enough to approach

He won't stop you from making new friends, he's not controlling, but he will keep one eye on the conversation for signs of distress

He's possessive, jealous, and a bit of a mother hen

If they persist, even after you've turned them down, he of course intervenes and usually does so quite violently

He's killed at least a dozen people for touching you in the wrong place, and he is prepared for that number to continue to increase

Mihawk doesn't mind if you have friends who are the same gender as you're attracted to, doesn't care at all actually - he's glad that you have friends since he's prone to being away for long periods

But, he isn't afraid to speak his mind if he feels that you, or one of your friends, has crossed a boundary (thankfully, he's not the arguing kind)

Benn was far more jealous as a younger man, but he mellows out with age

As a young man, he would treat potential other suitors to broken bones on good days

He'd follow anyone who'd given you a hard time half way home and leave them writhing in the street

He also loves to fuck when you get home after a night where he's had to watch you entertaining other people

He's only too happy to speak up in the moment, catching people off guard with his to stiff to actually be polite attitude

In his older age, he's far more secure in your relationship

He knows that these younger models can try to sway you, but he's the one you'll be coming home to

The jealous sex is still incredible, that never goes away

He also likes to brag about you as an older man, to the people he would've previously been jealous over

Smoker is the quiet type when it comes to jealousy

He doesn't approach in the moment, preferring to sit back and observe

He knows you're not unfaithful

But he hates that other people can occupy your attention - he wants it for himself

He thinks you're too good for him, but he's also a selfish man

Afterwards, he makes it clear just how jealous he was

The moment you're away from crowds, he'll have you pinned up against walls and be whispering in your ear

Sex always happens after he's been jealous, and it's rough, desperate sex

He revels in knowing just how many people are jealous of him because hell - look at you

But he does also tend to smoke his cigars a hell of a lot faster in those jealous moments

Help me decide what I'll do to celebrate 200 followers

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots

[randomshyperson]

Old Yellow Bricks - Heart Shaped Series

Chapter Summary: The conclusion to the adventures of an international thief and an Avenger witch. Or the one where you stop skipping work, Valentina answers the phone and Wanda does an ultrasound.

Warnings: (+18), smut (wanda taking the lead ‘cause that’s hot), bl*wjob, unprotected s*x, creampie, more shapeshifting stuff, some supervillain drama, minor angst with a happy ending I promise. | Words: 7.094k

A/N-> Hey folks, yes, I know I disappeared for a long time but I was so busy and mentally exhausted that I couldn't keep writing anymore, and I used practically half of my vacation just to get a decent amount of sleep. This story was almost abandoned, but I decided to give it an ending, even if it was a bit hasty, out of affection for the plot and out of consideration for those who have followed it up until now. I hope you aren't too dissatisfied with the ending, I tried to address any loose ends and leave it open to the canon we already know. Good reading.

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 | Series Masterlist

-&-

It shouldn't come as a surprise that you got caught. But you did, mainly because for the past weeks you've felt so comfortable around Wanda that for a moment, you weren't you. No international bounty for your head, not gangs or supervillains or big schemes. 

Just you and Wanda.

Your small argument with the Black Widow was to blame for your distracted state, but fairly, those men were probably following you for a while now, just waiting for the right opportunity to show themselves.

They weren’t aggressive, despite everything. You're just walking a little further from the hotel and this Van - Strategically hidden with paintings from a pest control service - was parked next to the sidewalk and you immediately knew. The door opened and nobody came out. 

It was an invitation.

You took a deep breath and a last glance at the street before getting in.

The face of one of Valentina's most trustworthy henchmen, Mrs. Cassian Camorra,  came to focus in the poorly lit car. He was not alone, masked guards armed to the teeth took every other seat. The only vacant spot was for you.

With a discreet shift, there was no longer much difference between your muscles and theirs. The change made the white-collar man chuckle at you.

“There's no need for that, reaper.” Says Cassian with a smirk. “We're not here for a fight.”

You stare at him with an indifferent expression, lifting your chin a little. 

“The Guns send a different message.” You say but he smiles again just before nodding to the others, who immediately relax their alarmed posture even though they continue to listen to the conversation. In that small space, it would be impossible to do anything else.

You don't let your guard down but sigh once your eyes meet Cassian’s again.

“I don't go by that name anymore, Cass, you know that.”

He chuckles. “Would you prefer shithead?” He teases but you roll your eyes, wishing this conversation would end soon. He laughs again at your expression. “I still don't understand why you would be ashamed of one of your greatest achievements. The Reaper was a goddamn legend! The name gave people the chills!” He recalls excitedly. 

You swallow, shifting in your seat. “Just tell me what you are here for.” You cut his enthusiasm with a sharp demand, managing to make your voice deeper. The security guard next to him has this immediate reaction of touching his gun, but you offer him a cocky smirk before focusing on Cassian again.

He adjusts his suit, one of his hands moving to his jacket pocket to grab something. A small purple cart is extended to you but you don't move a muscle.

“I'm not looking for a job at the moment.” You tell him but he chuckles, flipping the card to show you the back of it.

You thought it was the traditional mission paper with a coding at the back, for you to find target information but instead of that habitual info, there's a written number there.

“The Countess asks to meet in person.”

You don't grab the card. “If that is what she wants, then why didn't she come here herself?”

The man chuckles, and without giving a damn about the concept of personal space, he moves his hands to find your pocket and shove the card inside.

“The Countess is a clever woman, child. Why on earth would she talk business with your new superhero friends around?”

“They are not my friends.” You mutter, pushing his hands away with a slap before pulling the card out of your pocket. “And if she really wished to see me, her face would be the one to welcome me into this car.”

But when you make mention of getting up, Cassian loses some of the calm facade he kept so far. 

“Sit your spoiled ass back right now, kid.” The bodyguards in the two seats behind you grab you by the shoulders, but their hands move away once you are back at your spot so you don't try to start a new fight. “This is the problem with Valentina's little freaks. You all think you're special. She's too soft with your type, so you grow confident in your insignificance. Let me tell you what's going to happen if you don't take this cordial invitation seriously, Lady Fontaine. Every favor for your protection, every deal, is off. You won't be CIA protégée anymore, you'll be on your own. For once in your life. That might talk some sense into your head.”

The anger is burning in your chest because of the cruel words but it spreads around with shame and guilt. Tears beg their way to your eyes but you keep your cheeks dry.

“I've been alone my whole life, Cass. You don't know shit.”

But he laughs, truly, as if you're joking.

“Alone? You? Hydra's golden egg goose?” He mocked managing some chuckles from his colleagues. “You're the one who doesn't know shit, you brat. You have no idea what people like us would do to have the kind of protection you so proudly display without a second thought. The mansions, the travels, the luxury. All that money. And don’t get me started on the attitude. The rest of us living in the gutter, trying to survive out of crumbs while freaks like you get to walk around like you own the world.” He narrates with a trace of bitterness and contained hatred that makes you shudder.  “How many times have you walked out of prison? Do you think it's the same for the rest of us? That we get those same privileges?”

Some redness escapes to your cheeks but you manage to keep your cool.

“I have no power over how things happen in our line of work, Cass. And I am hardly the one you should be angry at. Those privileges you say, believe me, they came at a very high price.”

But Cassian rolls his eyes, dismissing your words with a hand gesture. “Fragile. You always have been. Crybaby should be your next nickname.”

You sigh impatiently and this time, when you move to open the door and leave the car, they allow it without any fight. Standing on the sidewalk, you hear Cass hold the door open and look at him one last time.

He leans for one last warning. “If you ignore her invitation, she will have her answer. And we will be back, this time, not for a conversation.” He lets you know with a little smile that makes you shallow hard. The possibility of putting Wanda in danger makes your heart miss a beat. And when Cass lets out a small exclamation as if remembering something, you somehow know it's not a good thing. He searches in his other pocket only to take a small photo.

“Almost forgot. She asked me to give you this. A gesture of trust, she said.”

But that was nothing trustworthy about Valentina being aware of you and Wanda's relationship, especially for such a long time. The picture is from a security camera and is clear by the poor definition, but still, that day is still fresh in your mind as if it happened yesterday. The Avengers fair you once infiltrate to find Wanda, only for her to end any plan you might had or ever could by kissing you. Inside those tents you were safe but outside, the camera caught the last kiss you stole from her before your departure.

The fact that Valentina knew about this, for so long, makes you feel sick in your stomach.

You don't take the picture - it's a symbol of the false freedom you possessed under Valentina's wigs. You storm off and hear the agents giggling and muttering threats before the car is gone, and so are you when you make a curve that takes you back to the hotel parking lot.

The whole thing made your blood boil. How dare she? What was she even after, what did that photo even mean? Was it a treat? Or it could really be a gesture of trust? Something like, yes she knew and she never did anything about it, so maybe Valentina doesn't want your complete misery.  But then again, you know her well enough to tell that every action she takes is a well-planned one. If she knew about your relationship with Wanda and allowed that with no fuss other than a small bait in the first weeks, telling you to read Avengers files in an attempt to get you away from Wanda, then for sure, Valentina had a bigger plan. 

And for once in your life, you're done with being the pawn.

Wanda's asleep when you're back in your shared motel room so you do your best to keep it quiet on your way to the bathroom.

This will be painful but you're confident you can manage, with your powers help at least.

The small device hidden under your ribs is a high-tech tracker and it's your last physical connection to your old life. It doesn't work unless you want it to, because it answers to a biological stimulation only you can provide. Baron von Strucker gave this to you as a work tool, if you were ever captured, you could call for help without anyone being aware.

You haven't tried to use the device purposefully in years, but sometimes, when being too hurt, it would activate on its own. And because it's quite easy to forget a hidden object behind your ribs, it occurred to you that it has been active since you bled out in Greece, the same day Wanda called to tell you she was pregnant.

The realization that Valentina was aware of your location for so long, Wanda's and her friends especially, rips a sob to your throat. It’s more painful to know you’ve been putting her in danger than the open wound.

You muffle down your crying the second you hear the bed shifting. But luckily Wanda doesn't wake up. Taking a deep breath, your shaky hands keep doing the hard work - to cut open with a medical kit's scalpel your skin so you can remove the tracker.

It's painful of course but it ends quickly. You don't need a badge but it does take a lot of energy to heal on your own so when you're finally back at the bed, after destroying the little device with a squeeze, storing everything else, and getting clean, you're quite exhausted. Stumbling around, you do a poor job of laying down without much noise.

Your girlfriend only grumbles sleepy in return before her magic brings you closer to her body.

-&-

“Wake up.”

It's less gentle than previous attempts, but Wanda had to do it. You were really disturbed in your sleep - mumbling and sweating as if you were running.

Your restlessness and discomfort disturbed her greatly, but she gives you a tender smile as she sees all the tension ease when you meet her eyes.

Sleepily, you close your eyes again the next moment and Wanda takes the opportunity to move the sweaty hair away from your face.

"You were having a nightmare." She mumbles, and she's almost sitting on your lap so you think that it would be a waste to miss the opportunity. Your hands bring her into the position with ease, but Wanda has concern on her face. "Talk to me, detka."

A smile fills your lips, and you remain in a half-asleep state. "I love it when you call me that. You're so lovely, Wanda."

A faint blush fills your cheeks, but Wanda is determined to clarify a few things. "You came back late and as big as a bodyguard. I want to know what happened." She says, and seeing you sigh with your eyes closed, she frowns her heart racing. "Did you find trouble?"

"No, everything's fine." You retort quickly, stubbornly. And Wanda tilts her head incredulously at the clear lie. You finally look her in the eye, and she thinks it's unfair that you're such a pretty liar. Unable to hold her gaze, you look away, the flush on your face more from embarrassment than anything else. "It was nothing." You correct, annoyed, and Wanda sighs at the whole thing. She hopes that one day, your barriers won't have to be so raised all the time and you'll be able to trust her by instinct. But considering the kind of life you've led so far, maybe something like that is just impossible to achieve. 

She moves one of her hands to your face, caressing the skin tenderly. "If you can't put it into words, let me see."

You close your eyes again, nodding, and the invasion is almost immediate. The whole thing happens very quickly - Wanda is getting better at it. Accessing last night's memories is easy, the hard part is dealing with their significance.

When she comes to her senses, the room comes into focus again and so does your turned-away face. Pure guilt and shame in your expression.

"I'm sorry." You say promptly, your voice a bit tearful. " I keep fucking things up. I brought them to us because I forgot the damn tracking, and I got everyone in danger. I understand if you're angry and want to shout at me."

Wanda sighs at the words, shaking her head. "No one's going to be yelling at anyone." She says, her hands moving lower to pull your shirt up a little. She traces the new scar, feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders as she sees that, apparently, you've healed fine. 

"Don't ever do anything like this again." She says, and you sniffle.

"That was the only trace I had-"

"Not that." She cuts in seriously, waiting for you to look at her. Wanda looks more hurt than angry and that confuses you. "You can't just self-harm in the bathroom and sew yourself back up in silence. You have to tell me things. You should let me take care of you, all right?"

Aware that the warmth spreading through your chest is quickly creeping up your neck and ears, you give up on putting together a coherent sentence. You nod quickly, and Wanda gives a weak laugh.

"I'm not angry." She continues, adjusting your shirt again, although her hands remain underneath, drawing patterns on your skin as she speaks. "You're always so... jumpy. And you get into trouble like it's second nature. And you're so incredibly stubborn-"

"Thanks." You grumble ironically, but your annoyance turns into a choke when you feel Wanda shift in your lap. It's an intentional fit at your hips, she's probably noticed the bulge you'd forgotten you were even carrying now. And the fit takes the air out of your lungs and makes your body jerk gently, waking you up completely. 

Wanda doesn't pay a second's attention to your reactions as she continues to talk. "You also have this habit of not letting me finish my sentences." She says with a little grin, her eyes dilating as your breathing starts to get heavy. "And I have to admit that you're hard work, but darling, you're worth every second of that effort. I wish I could take all the pain out of your past, but since I can't, I need you to understand that you're no longer dealing with things on your own. That I'm as devoted to you as you are to me."

These are romantic, intense, and considerate words. But Wanda is grinding slowly against your hips as she says them and you can only return a desperate nod, a deep moan tearing its way into your throat.

Wanda won't even let you lead - Your hands grab her barely covered ass through the oversized shirt she's stolen from you in an attempt to intensify the friction, but bright magic threads pull your wrists away in the next second. 

With your hands pinned to the headboard, you can only squirm at the mercy of the woman on top of you.

"You feel bigger than last time, baby." She whispers, almost losing her train of thought during a particularly hard thrust against your hips. You struggle to breathe.

But Wanda stops, and you bite back a sigh of frustration as you stare at her in a mixture of desperation and curiosity. She works with a certain urgency on your underwear, but instead of rewarding you with her warm cunt, she moves away until she's between your legs, her nails scratching your thighs.

"W-wanda, what are you doing?" You ask, suddenly very shy, your eyes slightly wide. She giggles, as her magic removes your underwear completely, and she leans in, planting kisses on your thighs that make you shiver.

Her dominant hand finally grabs your length and it's not very gentle so you let out something between a moan and a whimper and Wanda looks at you with a certain regret.

"Sorry, babe." She says softly, still holding you now more carefully. "I've never done this before."

Your mouth is dry, and your eyes want to close and just enjoy the sensation, but you fight these instincts to speak. "Done what, Wanda?"

She giggles mischievously, and her hand moves slowly, giving a tentative squeeze that makes the muscles in your thigh twitch. "You know what." She says in return, although you both share the strong blush on the cheeks, Wanda seems more confident about what she's about to do. "It can't be that hard. And if I do something wrong, you can just tell me to stop."

"Wanda, you don’t have to-" But she leans in, and unceremoniously takes your member into her mouth. You break down in an aroused sob, arching up on the bed. 

It's heaven, you're sure. Wanda Maximoff decided to wake you up with a blowjob, it’s a gift from the heavens that you must definitely don’t deserve but you won’t complain. You struggle against the magical chains just as you struggle to breathe and not to come immediately when Wanda continues to suck you off. 

It's sloppy at first - as she mentioned, she had never done that before. But the lack of practice doesn't make the act any less deliriously enjoyable. You feel very close very quickly and have to use all your concentration when Wanda meets your gaze, mouth full.

"Jesus." You groan, your whole body vibrating. Wanda pulls back, licking the tip and your eyes roll back. "Fuck."

She revels in your moans as much as she does in the whole thing. She can feel her own core throbbing at seeing you so pathetically at her mercy, but she wants you to finish first. Her hand moves to help and with each lick of the head leaking pre-cum, your body jerks in a way that makes the bed shake.

"Come on, baby, you can cum." She encourages you firmly as she alternates between sucking and licking. "You need this. And I got you."

You cry out the warning, and Wanda takes your whole length so as not to waste a drop. Your back arches on the bed, and the hot shot is deep into her throat. Wanda moans in return, making a mess all around as you try to return to orbit, your chest heaving and your body jerking.

She kisses your now flaccid member, biting back a smile as she watches the final throbs. Taking advantage of your state, Wanda resumes her previous position on your lap. Her magic fades from your wrists.

Just the brief rubbing of her thick thighs against you is enough for Wanda to feel you harden again.

"Are you sure, babe? You're still shaking." She asks teasingly, but all you give in return is an affected chuckle, your hands helping her to settle into you. The invasion happens slowly, and Wanda groans satisfied at the proof that yes, you are bigger. The stretching is gentle, and it's not painful because she's soaked, but it's still there and she has to bite her lips as she slowly sinks down until you bottom up.

Panting together, you watch her adoringly, your hands on her hips helping her move.

Wanda doesn't rush things. She rides you leisurely, feeling every inch of your cock inside her warm walls until the slowness is too overwhelming. 

Her hands rest on your shoulders, and you don't care that her nails are digging into your skin because Wanda feels too good for you to think of any other sensation than that tight pussy wrapping around you.

She holds your gaze, and between the grunts and moans she lets you know; "I love you." You can only nod, trying to gasp the same when Wanda suddenly bounces harder.

One of your hands grips with more strength, enough to mark the skin and she has to grab the headboard for a firmer support.

You groan at her nearly roughness; "Easy, woman." You try, even though she's grinding vigorously and the room has started to spin. "Wanda, damn it. Be more... ah... careful. You're pregnant...slow down… God."

She comes first, which is a surprise because you honestly don't know how you managed to hold it for so long.

You're still coming inside her when she collapses on top of you, falling down against your shoulder. But then there's satisfied laughter filling the room, and a joke about that being a very incredible way to start a day.

-&-

It's decided that you guys need to move as soon as you and Wanda are properly dressed and Wanda has encouraged you to be honest with the other Avengers.

And she also doesn't need to be a mind reader to know that there's something wrong with Natasha, who doesn't offer more than a mumble of agreement and doesn't say anything about you keeping a tracker jammed in your ribs all this time. 

While Wanda goes out to buy breakfast for the team, you stay behind and busy yourself packing the bags. But she is recognized at the grocery store near the motel when she tries to buy breakfast. It's just a child and her older sister, wanting photos with an Avenger, but it still causes her so much anxiety that she goes back to the bedroom with something more than food: a box of hair dye.

"I thought I'd follow Natasha's idea." That's what she gives as an explanation, and you laugh confusedly but end up believing it until Wanda has bleached spots and ends up confessing what really made her late. 

You're standing in the doorway, and she's focused on painting her hair, her eyes meeting yours through the reflection in the bathroom mirror.

"I'm sorry for not saying it right away. I just didn't want to worry you." 

You let out a sigh before offering her a small smile. "No problem, love." You assure her, reaching over to pick up the empty box of the product and read some of the labeling on the back. "I'm more concerned about whether pregnant women can dye their hair."

Your comment makes Wanda giggle. Her magic continues the process of coloring the spots, and she busies herself with washing her hands at the sink. 

"Well, most pregnant women can't manipulate energy and move things with their minds. I think I'll survive." She jokes back, sticking her tongue out at you when you smile. It ends up being a small grimace battle before you return the empty box to the garbage can and lean in to steal a kiss from her.

Wanda smiles through it, but her cold, wet hands reach under your blouse and make you jump. She laughs at the reaction, and you can barely notice the time passing as you play with each other and wait for the dye to finish settling on your locks.

When Wanda disappears back into the bathroom for a while, you wait for her to finish washing her hair and nothing really prepares you for the new look. Your girlfriend is slightly shy as she reappears, the towel still slung over her shoulders.

"So, what do you think?" She asks about the red hair and you swallow dry, speechless. Wanda blushes immediately, a nervous giggle escaping her lips. "What?"

"You look..." Your voice fails you and you have to clear your throat. "Really beautiful."

Wanda smiles, but then raises an eyebrow, gesturing gently in your direction. "It does seem that you truly like it, dear, I'm flattered."

You blink in confusion, before following her gaze and noticing your own body, and the bulge in your pants. Grinning in embarrassment, you quickly cover yourself with the nearest pillow. "Sorry." You mumble with your ears burning, but Wanda giggles, glancing quickly at the ajar door.

"I wonder if we still have time before we leave." She comments, scarlet threads appearing through the wood with the thought of closing it, but as if guessing the intentions of a delay, the door suddenly opens and Captain Rogers is practically pushed inside by Natasha.

"Nice change, Maximoff. But I hope your suitcases are ready." That's what the widow said, and she looked stressed, most likely because of all the stories about her adventures the night before. If your embarrassment over the tracker story wasn't enough, there was the other one you were trying to hide under your pillow. Wanda disguised it better than you, nodding quickly to the widow and gesturing toward the ready backpacks. "Steve can you take these to the quinjet please, I want to have a word with Romeo and Juliet."

The Captain sighed, trying to ignore being made a baggage handler - Muscles must be good for something - and offered you and Natasha a sympathetic look before leaving the room.

The widow closed the door but you spoke first. “Listen Nat, if this is a second scolding for the tracker, I've already made sure it can't be retraced and-"

"That's not it." She interrupts you with a certain determination, then a forced smile. "I've found a doctor for you. For Wanda, to be more exact."

The now red-haired woman gives Nat a surprised look and it's you who asks; "Are you sure it's safe? Risking a medical appointment in the situation we're in."

"You underestimate me."

"I didn't mean it like that."

But Nat smiles genuinely, shrugging. She checks her watch.

"We're actually going to meet her. Apart from Banner, she's the only doctor I trust."

You and Wanda exchange a look before nodding to Natasha in thanks. Your girlfriend then asks; "That's not all you wanted to talk about, is it Nat?"

The widow nods, seeming to get upset for a moment.

"I'm not saying this for the tracker story, I swear I'm not, but... maybe it's better if Y/N doesn't stay with us anymore."

Wanda snorts indignantly, ready to protest, especially as you lower your head. 

"We stay together-"

"I know." Natasha cuts off Wanda's defensiveness with a sigh. "I wouldn't expect otherwise." She mutters, taking a deep breath to gather her courage. "Rogers doesn't agree, you know how protective he is over you. I mean, he was pretty indignant when Tony tried to ground you in the Tower. Anyway, that's not the point. Clint left. He accepted a decent deal until things settle down, and yes, they will settle down. I know it feels like our world has turned upside down overnight, but we need to remember why the Avengers were created in the first place. It's only a matter of time before they need us, all of us again, and maybe it's experience talking, but I've seen so many governments collapse and rise again. I have seen this movie before."

The widow vents and you and Wanda don't have the heart to interrupt her. 

"What I mean is that Clint can make a deal for his family, and maybe you can do the same."

Wanda thinks for a moment until she swallows. "I'm not an agent with years of military service to my credit. General Ross would never offer me a deal."

"Not him. And not to you." Natasha retorts, turning her face towards you.

You sigh deeply as you understand exactly what she's implying. " Is there really no other option?"

Natasha gives you a sympathetic smile. "That's not an ultimatum, mercenary. Just think about it. None of us wants a pregnant woman in the life of a fugitive, and don't make that face Wanda, I know you don't want the baby to be in danger either." Your girlfriend begrudgingly shuts up, knowing that the widow is right. "Just give it a thought. Melina has agreed to do the prenatal care, so you have all this time to make a decision."

Natasha nods in farewell before heading out the door, and you turn to Wanda.

"Do you have any idea who Melina is?"

-&-

In the safety of the Quinjet and the untraceable lines of the Avengers, you call Contessa Fontaine.

The first thing Valentina says when she sees your face in the high-definition hologram is a scolding; "That tracker was worth a billion dollars."

You have to laugh, your back resting on the cold metal of the ship. "Can't say I'm sorry, boss. Having a tracker in the middle of your ribs doesn't scream work ethic."

She gives a short laugh, and you realize from the surroundings that she's in the private room of the Fontaine Mansion, a place you've been to countless times before.

"What can I do for you, my dear child?" She asks, slightly impatient. You swallow dry.

"Your people said you wanted to see me." You comment. 

Valentina laughs wryly. "Oh, yes, in person. Not talking through an Avengers line. You must have lost your mind."

"There are no more Avengers, Val, you know that." You retort, and she smiles in satisfaction.

"Touche." She mutters before raising her bright eyes to you. "But let me guess, they're listening to this conversation."

You sigh impatiently. "What difference does it make? I've been with them for weeks. I could have told them all the secrets I know about your work, but I didn't. Just as you didn't inform General Ross of their location. So how about we stop playing games?"

Valentina gives another evil little laugh, nodding. "Oh, dear, I miss our conversations, you're always so direct and attentive. Yes, I didn't hand over Team America to Ross, because unlike that arrogant fool, I have no interest in seeing our heroes trapped in the Raft. Only someone like Ross and his ballistics background would think of something as stupid as taking out Earth's main line of defense for threats we have no means of dealing with." You remain silent at Val's words, and she takes a breath to continue. "You know me, Y/N. I like my... enhanced ones. I understand the grandeur of this new world, men like Ross, impressionable with colored rifles, don't."

"So... you've been trying to help the Avengers?"

She breaks into a laugh. "Help? Don't go that far." She retorts grinning. "Let's say we had allied objectives up to the present moment. And I have no reason to put them out of work, you know? In any case, perhaps a little time out of the spotlight and struggling will lower some of their egos. It's a shame that Mr. Stark always seems to shrug off the consequences of his actions, he could learn something without having billions to spare."

You sigh without patience for the speech, adjusting your body. "Val, speaking of money-"

"Oh, it's about time."

With a short laugh, you continue; "I need mine."

She looks at you for a moment, before smiling. "Your money has always been yours to use. Nothing has changed."

But you force a smile, not quite believing it. "Everything has changed, Val. I don't want Lady Fontaine's money. I don't want to be one of your pawns. I want a new account, a new life. With everything I've worked to earn."

"And what makes you think I can give it to you?"

You snort, rubbing a stress point on your forehead. "Please, Val, don't take me for someone naïve, who doesn't know the extent of your influence."

But Valentina sighs deeply, resting her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, to look at you intently.

"In fact, I'm beginning to think that your naivety is indeed remarkable and, unfortunately, my responsibility." She comments, and you chuckle ironically and indignantly, but she doesn't let you question it. "There is no new beginning for you, Y/N. Not the way you're asking me, not the way you really want. You're deluding yourself if you think I can bring in false documents and billions of dollars without anyone ever finding out the truth. That's not how things work. The bill always comes, and a past so stained with red always catches up with people like us." She says and you swallow, not having the heart to interrupt when you know deep down that she's not lying. Despite her seriousness, Valentina's gaze softens: "I know it's not what you wanted to hear, but all is not lost. You've been walking around for weeks with someone who committed as many atrocities as you did, and yet have been allowed to experience the greatest version of freedom a criminal can get."

It takes a moment for you to realize that she's talking about Natasha. You glance quickly at the main area of the quinjet through the glass of the private room they got you to call Val, and your former boss uses this time to light a cigarette.

"I'm not a black widow."

Val chuckles. "Of course not, they fight much better." She comments and you grimace. Val takes a slow drag, blowing smoke against the camera before continuing to talk; "Speaking of them, you should thank your new friend sometime. The amount of black widows she's put on the market looking for work is what's given you so much time off. I'm not short-staffed, thanks to that."

"I'm glad the rescue of trafficked women has given you new employees, Contessa." You sneer in annoyance, stepping out of the way of the video and ignoring her confusion to tap lightly on the glass. The Avengers outside look up at the same time, but you wave for Natasha and Wanda to come inside. 

"Where'd you go, little bird?" Val asks the wall, and ends up choking on her smoke as the faces of the two Avengers come into focus next to you. "Oh, hello. What an honor-"

"Cut it, Val." You interrupt annoyedly, squeezed between Natasha and Wanda on the seat in the room. "Make your proposal. I want Romanoff to tell me if it's true, because she's the only one with any real experience of these things, and well, Wanda's my partner and she should be up to speed."

Your former boss smiles impressed. "What a lovely thing, a thief and an Avenger, my eyes can hardly believe it." 

You snort impatiently, but Valentina doesn't keep up the teasing. She nods, before turning her attention to the personal computer next to her phone. As she types, she repeats her earlier proposal. "I need to work on it first, dear. But I understand it will be something very similar to the agreements Miss Romanoff signed with Shield when she was hired as an Agent. Serving the American government entirely in exchange for freedom."

Natasha looks at you. "Is that what you want to do? Be an Agent?"

But you shake your head, offering her a sad smile. "There's no more Shield to recruit me. And I don't think I'm fit to be an Avenger anyway. But Val is director of the CIA. She could offer me something perfectly legal. And I could have an almost normal life."

"But what about the Sokovia agreements?" Wanda asks in concern. "You're an enhanced one."

Before you can answer, Val hums and grins. "Oh, I can see why you like that one, she's clever." You roll your eyes at the provocation, wishing you'd gone to see Val in person and could pull a gun on her to make her behave. Your boss stops typing and turns her full attention to the three of you. "Miss Maximoff has a very good point. If you wish to work with me at the moment, a CIA Agent contract, you would be legally obliged to sign the Sokovia Agreements."

You snort impatiently. "I'm not signing something that would force me to become a lab rat again! And certainly not something that says Wanda should be behind bars or-"

"Relax, I didn't say I was going to make you sign it." She cuts in. "And you're the one in a hurry for a new job after all. I don't understand the hesitation to do something that could be entirely bureaucratic if you stay out of the spotlight."

You hesitate, and exchange a quick glance with the two women next to you. Natasha shakes her head in the negative, but Wanda sighs.

"I'm pregnant."

Valentina chokes on her cigarette again, and Natasha covers her face with her hands. You don't know how to react, and Wanda keeps talking.

"Y/N is doing this for us, and if your partnership has meant anything other than work all these years, I know you'll help her."

But Valentina shakes her head, chuckling incredulously to herself. Wanda begins to worry. 

"I don't want to appeal to sentimentality, I'm just asking you to be considerate. Job or not, no one is going to put my family at risk. I won't take it lightly if your people follow and threaten her again."

But Val gestures quickly. "A child, little bird? How can you keep this a secret from me?"

You sigh tiredly. "It wasn't exactly any of your business."

But Val leans over to pick something up from the table, and you frown as you recognize your old research file. "Except, well, it's entirely my business." Val retorts seriously, her eyes running over the pages she's leafing through. Until she lets out a small exclamation. "Yes, here it is. Strucker specifically wrote that you were infertile. And that was a disappointment of course, because everyone who gets an enhanced one, would love to make more of them."

Wanda looks at you with confusion, but you stand up as if you're going to choke on the attention, taking the cell phone with you to the other corner of the room.

"I know exactly what those pages say, you don't have to read them to me." You retort angrily. "Strucker had to believe that he couldn't have more of me, okay? I couldn't..." Your voice falters, but you control your emotions by swallowing hard. "I did what I had to do. The changes to my body so that he would never find out. So that no one would find out. But when I'm with Wanda, I just... I don't think about the past. I can breathe, Val. And it happened. And I'm asking you, if your mentoring has meant anything all these years, to give me a chance to be more than a goddamn puppet. Please."

Your boss remains silent, thoughtful, before sighing and offering you something like a sincere smile, however small.

"Ten years, little bird."

You frown in confusion. "What?"

"Ten years." She repeats. "That's the most I can offer you. Your money, a new identity, a fresh start. Think of it as extended maternity leave. The child will be old enough for boarding schools, and I'll charge you for the services."

"I-I..." You hesitate, looking at Wanda who has an expression that says she can't make this decision for you.

Valentina stands up, taking the phone with her. "I'll work on your contract carefully. Nick Fury is not a foolish man, little bird. He sees the world as I do, the dangers that surround us and that must come from the outside. I like the idea of a team working on my behalf, but it's too early for anything like that. Especially with everything that's happening with the first team." Val continues, and you swallow. She gives you a genuine smile. "And of course, all those years have meant something to me. You're the first person I'd trust with the job."

You want to tell her that this isn't the kind of meaning you'd like, but you think that work reliability is all Valentina can offer you. You nod and thank her and she says goodbye before hanging up.

Natasha thinks it best to leave you and Wanda alone for a moment, and when you sit down on the floor, Wanda sits down next to you. Silently, she holds your hand and rests her head on your shoulder.

"A lot can change in ten years." You murmur, and you don't need to explain for Wanda to understand your hope that you won't have to fulfill any contracts. She squeezes your hand tighter because the decision has already been made. 

Your cell phone vibrates again, not with the CIA contract, but with your new documents and bank account filled with all the money you've earned as a mercenary. It makes your stomach turn with the feeling that you've just sold yourself again, and there's nothing you can do about it.

Wanda turns away to look at you and waits for you to do the same. Once your gazes are connected, she raises her hand to your face and pulls you in to kiss you softly on the lips.

"I'll always love you. Nothing will ever change that." She whispers against your lips, her forehead resting against yours. "I need you to promise that you'll always remember it."

You caress the wrist of the hand she holds to your cheek, and continue with your eyes closed. "I won't remember anything else."

She smiles, ending the distance again.

You kiss for a moment before you pull away to press your lips to her forehead and squeeze her hand. 

"We'll be fine, Wanda. It's me and you, and just one baby. We can manage."

She smiles tenderly, nodding before hiding her face in the crook of your neck and sighing as she repeats the words. "You're right. Two of us, and a whole team of grumpy superheroes to handle one little baby. How hard can it be?"

Six hours later, Melina Vostokoff carried out Wanda's first ultrasound, which would reveal not one, but two little boys growing inside her womb. Both of them had a natural inclination towards superpowers. 

But that's another story.

[itpemod]

SIGN UP POST

It's late September and that means #ITPE sign-ups are OPEN 🎉🎉🎉 Links will be at the end, so please read through the post as we have a lot of new information/procedures this year!

This is the FOURTEENTH year of the exchange, but the FIRST year we will be hosting it on Tumblr, which was far and away the winner in our platform move survey. Happily, this means we get to keep our acronym and branding!

What is #ITPE?

#ITPE is a low-pressure, no-minimums podfic exchange that originated on Twitter. We are now on Tumblr because of Twitter’s…everything, since it was bought by the Muskrat. Everything–sign-ups, communication, assignment/gift distribution–used to be run entirely on Twitter, but as the exchange has grown, we’ve incorporated other platforms to help make our lives as mods easier. Consequently, sign-ups will be on AO3 and submissions of your finished gifts (when it comes time for them) will be via Google form. Otherwise all communication, including announcements, questions, assignment and gift delivery, will be conducted over Tumblr and instant messaging. 

Who are the mods?

Our mod line-up is @blackestglass (blackglass) & @knight-tracer, with flowersforgraves assisting on the backend with data management. 

What is the schedule?

The dates for #ITPE 2024 are:

Sign-ups: SEPTEMBER 21 - SEPTEMBER 29

Assignments go out: No later than OCTOBER 8

Projects due: DECEMBER 17

Distribution: DECEMBER 24

So long as it's still September 29 somewhere in the world, you can still sign-up.

How do I sign up?

We are continuing to run sign-ups through AO3 (without a nominations process, so just write in your fandoms). We are asking for a minimum of 3 unique fandoms and if you want to sign-up to give or receive more than 20 fandoms, pick your TOP 20 for the AO3 and put the rest in your Dear Podficcer Letter. If you have less than 20 fandoms, we encourage you to list all of your primary and secondary fandoms in the sign up form so we have options for matching!

Note: We consider certain RPF fandoms as “umbrella” fandoms. We know we have K-Pop podficcers and sports RPF podficcers who often sign up for our exchange. Individual K-Pop bands and individual sports/sports teams do not count as “unique” fandoms (so for instance, only listing SHINee, BTS, and A-Teez would not count as having 3 unique fandoms for sign-up purposes; for our purposes, they would all fall under the K-Pop umbrella). In addition to listing your favorite bands/sports/teams in the fandom field, we do ask you to help us out for matching by thinking of at least 2 other fandoms which you might be happy to give and receive in. The RPF podficcing pool is small and we try not to repeat matches within a 5-year period, so giving us more fandom options will help us find you a match. 

What is a Dear Podficcer letter?

Your Dear Podficcer letter should include stuff like squicks, triggers, ship and trope preferences, and anything else you think we & your gift giver should know regarding your fandom tastes. Letters are mandatory. They don't have to be long! But if you have extremely specific tastes, it’s better that you let us know upfront in your letter so that we can ensure that you receive a gift you’re happy with. Please don’t worry about seeming “difficult”! We want you to love the gift you receive! Also, do feel free to request your small, obscure fandoms! Just help us out by also including some more popular or “mainstream” fandoms among your options. 

If you’re still uncertain what a letter should look like, here are some examples from 2020: blackglass’s 2020 letter & knight_tracer’s 2020 letter. You can also check out linked letters in the “Requests Summary” on AO3 to see what other people’s letters look like!  

Letters should be hosted on a publicly viewable platform, such as on Dreamwidth, tumblr, carrd, GDrive, Dropbox, etc. 

Please put your Tumblr and AO3 handles (if they don’t already match) in your Dear Podficcer letter. For our sake, ideally somewhere in the title field. Toss a coin to your mod team. 

Also please be kind to your mods & avoid using smushnames or cute fandom ship names in your letter. We're not always in your fandom & sometimes people will use different names to refer to the same pairing & we mistakenly believe you're requesting different pairings (see: the Zimbits/JackBitty/etc. debacle of 2020). Using Char A/Char B(/Char C) would help us out a lot! You don't have to use AO3 levels of disambiguation – just provide us with enough information to figure out who the characters involved in the ship are. 

If you have specific tastes in what you want to RECEIVE in a fandom, but you’re willing to CREATE outside of those preferences (for instance, wanting to receive podfic about a specific pairing, but willing to podfic for other pairings in a fandom), please indicate that in your letter! If you want to offer or receive fandoms that aren’t currently on the AO3, or you’re one of those gutsy people that is willing to offer and create in “any fandom”, message this account and we’ll make sure it’s all recorded. 

In addition, if you’re an adventurous listener who is open to RECEIVING podfic for “any fandom” please ALSO message us so that we’re aware! We still need a minimum of 3 fandoms for your sign up so that it can go through.

If you have any DNWs (“do not wants”)  that you don’t want to post publicly in a letter, concerns about matching, or anything else you’d like to privately let the mods know, there’s a section in the sign up this year that you can fill out. Or you can send us a message!

How should we be communicating with you over Tumblr? We will primarily be using the instant messaging function. Therefore you will need a Tumblr account to sign up, because that’s where all communication and assignment/gift delivery will take place. It’s totally fine to use a placeholder account you only use for this exchange. (We do recommend adding a userpic, filling out your bio, and maybe reblogging a few posts so that you don’t seem like a bot.) All participants should be following the mod account, especially if you have restricted settings so that only people you follow can message you. The instant messaging system, unlike the ask system, allows us to maintain a record of our communications, and is the best way to share information you want to keep private between us or have extended conversations. You may use asks if you have a one-off question or questions you don’t mind getting public answers to. 

(Notifications for new Tumblr messages can be finicky so try to check out the messaging tab semi-regularly throughout the duration of the exchange instead of relying on the blue dot to let you know there’s a new message.) 

In an attempt to avoid tripping spam filters and hitting the Tumblr limit on sending messages to new people, we are asking you to help us out by sending us an instant message to let us know you’ve signed up, rather than us trying to reach out to dozens upon dozens of people (prime spambot behavior)! 

What happens if you get marked as spam?

If we get shadowbanned/tossed in potential spambot purgatory, the mods will reach out to you from our personal accounts/mod sideblogs or via email. During the sign up period, we will reach out to you via messaging to ask you for a reliable email address to reach you at in case all of our attempts to not get flagged as spam fail.

If we are marked as spam, we’ll still be able to post on our own blog and we should still appear on your dash, but we won’t be appearing in the tags most likely, which is another reason why it’s important for you to be following us!

How does matching work? How will I get my assignment?

The mods do hand-matching, meaning rather than just letting the AO3 algorithm run and make arbitrary matches based on fandom, we read all your letters and try to match you with someone with similar tastes and interests. We’ll only be relying on the AO3 algorithm to help us spot tricky matches. 

Another of the ways Tumblr combats spam is to shadowban anyone sending multiple similarly worded messages. We’re going to make an attempt to deliver extremely pared down assignment messages so that we’re mostly sending unique information. If we do get marked as spam, as mentioned earlier, we may reach out to you on sideblogs or via email. 

What kind and how many gifts should I make? Do you really mean “no minimums”? 

Yes, ITPE gifts have NO LENGTH MINIMUMS. Make something as big or as small as you want to commit to! We truly do mean it. This is meant to be a low pressure exchange! Accordingly, please set your expectations that you may receive a short gift. In the past, we have had participants who’ve been extremely generous and made a prolific amount of gifts for their giftee, but they are outliers and there is certainly no expectation that anyone else should strive to those heights. 

I have more questions about making gifts!

We’re sure you do, but we’re not there yet! We will update this FAQ with more information about submitting gifts and treats once assignments go out, so check back!

I’m ready to sign up! What are the next steps? 1. Fill out the sign up form on AO3 here.

2. Follow us @itpemod if you haven’t yet!

3. Send us a message over the chat letting us know you’ve signed up!

4. Optional (but encouraged if you want to talk to people!): join the Tumblr Podfic Community to participate in the friending/following meme!

5. Optional: Track/follow the #itpe or #informal tumblr podfic exchange tags! 

[venomous-qwille]

Ghost in the Machine

This is the master post for Ghost in the Machine links, character refs and FAQs.

I will try my best to keep this post as up to date as possible.

What is Ghost in The Machine?

GITM is a DCA AU and a fic set in the retrofuture (2055ish) long after Fazco has shut down. An eccentric collector has been acquiring versions of the Daycare Attendant animatronic from closed locations around the world. The story involves a reader character who has been brought into repair the original post-Ruin DCA from the games, and hijinks ensue. There are also ghosts.

Where can I read the fic?

GITM is currently being posted on Ao3, and is updated every three weeks on Saturdays. The fic is being beta'd by the tremendously talented @bubbiethesaur. You can read GITM here!

There is also a podfic, which you can find here:

Updates to the podfic will be sporadic, so please be patient <3

Where can I see the art?

On this blog I use the #gitm au and #ghost in the machine au tags for GITM related content. If you are looking for art of a specific character, they also have their own tags: #misuta moon #nova #soleil #clip.exe #sunspot mk1 #fool eclipse #ruin eclipse #sombra #sunflower #mr sandman

FAQ~

Why haven't you answered my GITM ask?

One of three reasons: 1) your ask was too spoilery* 2) I'm waiting to answer it with art 3) ADHD

*spoilery includes but is not limited to: any questions about dual-AI or XYZ character's sun/moon variant; questions about character backstories and lore; questions about characters that have not featured in the fic yet (e.g Nova, Sanii, Harvest, Sunflower, Sandman etc); asks speculating about potential future scenarios (don't get me wrong, I love these asks, but I can't answer them!)

Where are all the Moons?

Read and find out. Seriously. There are at least 5 Moons who are core to the plot but I'm not going to talk about them, no matter how nicely you ask!

Does XYZ character have a Sun/Moon counterpart?

Some of them do, some of them don't. The dual-AI stuff is majorly plot related. If I'm not talking about someone's Sun/Moon counterpart, rest assured you will find out eventually. I won't be spoiling any of it on tumblr though :)

Can I create fanart of GITM?

Yes yes yes please do and please tag me when you post it so I can see it/reblog! If you are unsure if something is ok, please ask.

Can I create fanfic of GITM?

Super flattered about this. I have a longform answer to this question which you can read here. But tl;dr yes you can, please tag/credit me, do not spoil/try to write the lore, and please do not write GITM au (e.g mafia, mer, medieval). I have my own plans for this stuff and I would prefer to release the designs/stories in my own time. If you are unsure if something is ok, please ask.

Can I create NSFW GITM content?

Until recently I had blanket perms that allowed NSFW GITM content. I'm updating this to let you guys know I'm no longer comfortable with people making this content. Back when the community was small, I felt differently, but as time has passed a lot has changed and I've found myself becoming increasingly anxious about it. If this boundary changes again in the future, I will update this FAQ.

Do you have character refs I can use?

There is a collection of art 'refs' for each character on the Misutamojis discord. Latest link here.

There are no proper call-out sheets/refs currently, but I have a huge body of art for the characters on this blog which should give you more than enough info for most of them. I will get around to creating proper refs eventually, in which case I will link them here.

Where can I find the playlist?

I update the spotify playlist fairly regularly, if you have any music recs you can send them over in an ask! You can listen to the playlist here!

I've heard there are secret GITM drabbles, where can I find them?

I used to post frequent drabbles from future chapters in the DCA Palooza discord, I have recently deleted the majority of them as people were going back and binging them which hadn't been the intended reading experience. Anywho, this question probably refers more to the spicy drabbles (which people have very kindly made a lot of delicious art for). These are still around! You just need to access the spicy channel and do some digging.

Is there a GITM discord?

Nope! There is a server for GITM emotes and a busy thread in the DCA Palooza, but currently I don't have any plans to make a GITM-centric discord community. If that does happen in the future it's likely I will simply convert the emotes server (Misutamojis).

It finally happened, I converted Misutamojis. You can join the GITM discord here.

Can I smooch the robots?

Yes.

All of them?

All of them.

[penvisions]

sweetening the deal {by the grit of sandpaper}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Summary: Tommy Miller asked you to take his place beside his brother on patrols, and you're determined to not let him down even if you're far too awkward around the older Miller you don't know very well.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: canon typical language, pining, requited unrequited feelings, joel is so soft in this, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, joel miller's body needs its own warning, tooth rotting fluff, mostly joel pov, SET BEFORE THE FIRST CHAPTER

A/N: dear @copperhalfcent submitted a drabble emoji as part of the final chapter celebration and of course i got carried away, what a bummer, huh? here's this for y'all to enjoy until the final chapter comes out! ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

A rather loud crack of cartilage startles you, your gun aimed toward the direction Joel approached you and the horses from. He had dismounted to check out the small wisps of smoke with an urgent but quiet request to remain behind.

“Just me ‘n my bad back.”

“Should soak in some hot water when we get back.” You say as you lower the barrel, turning your attention to the tittering horses. You miss the way his eyes darken at the image of you covered in nothing but scented bubbles flashing in his mind. It was the middle of summer, your shirts having given way to tank tops that gave the man more than a glimpse of the swell of your breasts glistening with sweat. His hands twitch at his sides, his own gun secure over his back, pistol nestled in the holster at his hip.

“Afraid that won’t do much at my age.”

“You’re not that much older than me.”

“I’m far older than you, you can’t be more’n forty.”

“Tommy’s got a few on me, but he said you’re not much older than him?”

“I’m fifty-seven, he’s about fifty. Even older with a birthday comin’ up soon. More’n a few years, actually.”

“Oh. Well, I always did go for older guys.” And fuck if his cock didn’t twitch and his stomach didn’t swoop at the implications of your words. You must’ve realized they were uttered aloud as you spin back to face him with a twisted face, heat tinging the tops of your ears and your chest rising with a deep exhale of an apology he didn’t think was necessary.

“Shit. That was wildly inappropriate, Joel. I’m so sorry.” The worry in the lines of your face, the few wrinkles he could see around your eyes made his stomach swoop again. You were so god damn expressive once he got you talking, something relatively new as you both got used to being around each other, reading each other’s moods.

“No need to apologize, we all got our preferences.”

“Still, you-you’re…I’m just gonna shut up now.” He could hear the clack of your teeth as you snap your jaw shut, tense at what he figured you thought was too forward of a conversation with someone who you interacted with only a few times a week. But he frowned, not liking the way you interpreted their easy-going patrols that had begun to develop into something he would call genuine friendship.

“Nah, is okay. Filters are for people who actually say inappropriate stuff. You’re fine, Olive.” He watches the way you begin to lead the horses down an overgrown path, falling into step behind you. Something that paired with the smoldering fire he had found keeping his eyes and ears open to those responsible. “When’s your birthday?”

“I’m a winter baby, which is ironic because I don’t like the cold.” His eyes trace the same line a drop of sweat as it makes its way from your braided hair and down the back of your neck. The increasing heat not seeming to bother you as it did so many others who had the relieve of central air in Jackson.

“Not a fan either, being from Texas we didn’t get much of it.” Joel realizes he hadn’t told anyone of his past other than Ellie in…god knows how long. You were smart though, no doubt picking up on the twang his voice carried, the particulars of it telling of his past just as much as his answers to each new question. But he was willing to share it with you, something about you softening the edges of the walls he had built up around himself. Of wanting to find out what you had in common and what you didn’t.

“Do you…like sweets?”

“Huh?” Even if he were privy to the innerworkings of your mind, the question would still have caught him off guard, doubly so since he wasn’t.

“Uh…sweets? Like cake or tart or even muffins?” Nervous, he realized, you were nervous around him sometimes. But it was so unlike the rest of the town, nervous as in worried about accidentally offending him or saying the wrong thing, not nervous he was going to throttle them. He had done his best to work alongside Tommy, to appease Maria and the council, to show them that he was committed to turning a new leave and abiding by their way of life to ensure he and Ellie had a place to call home. It had been a rough couple of months, but you sure as hell sweetened the deal.

“Wouldn’t say no to ‘em, but never went out of my way to get any for myself.” The question of who he would go out of his way to get them fore glints in your eye, but you purse your lips and refrain from another question. He rather likes betting against himself to see if you would ask the many he sees cross your face. Your brow was twitch just before you did, if you allowed yourself. Your lips would twitch if you didn’t, like you were holding back the words springing up in your mind.

After a rather awkward first couple of patrols, he had realized the set of his face may have come across as uninterested. But you were so sweet, so quiet and he found himself wondering about you beyond the bubble of time you shared while out on patrol. Tommy had barked a laugh when he asked how long you had been here, the glimmer of teasing only a younger sibling was capable of lighting up his face. Longer than him, he had said. Which meant you had to have been a part of it for a while.

Time passes and his birthday is suddenly something Tommy makes a point to stop by the house with a classic yellow cake covered in chocolate frosting.

Figured you for a simple man, so a simple cake seemed the safest bet. Hope the day is good to you, Olive.

The note attached to it was inscribed with beautiful, looping writing. Tommy had remarked that you were the go to baker for cakes, even if the requests were made at the mess hall where he learned you were one of the cooks behind the scenes. Each new piece of you he learned making him want to know more. With the thought to thank you next patrol, he accepted the cake and his brother’s company.

Ellie had made him breakfast before school, but he had remained inside all day, busing himself with cleaning and carving to ignore the memories the date always brought up. But that evening, he smiled over a small dinner with his brother as they cut into the cake almost immediately after. Glad he had opened up to you and to find that you thought of him as much as he was beginning to think of you. He would return the favor by bringing coffee, something he was learning was a commodity few had a steady supply of. A branch of his own to let you know he didn’t think you were being too forward in any capacity.

Even more so when he noticed a third slice stolen from the platter it was delivered on the next morning, a card beside it from Ellie wishing him another year for her to tease him.

taglist: @joelsgreys @morning-star-joy @sawymredfox @pascalpvnk @littlemisspascal @merz-8 @orcasoul @sabmat @dreamingofleon

@keylimebeag @picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @joeloverture @joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @corazondebeskar @honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @hiroikegawa @dugiioh @persephone-girl @furiousmushroom @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc @part2joelmiller @formulafun @noisynightmarepoetry @sofiparallel @blueberrylemon7 @maryrhodalouandted @joelsdagger @fluff-lover

@communism-bitches @slugz-writes-shit @mosssbawls @vie-is-punk

@ohhellotherebumblebee @koshkaj-blog @r4vens-cl4ws @picketniffler @joeldjarin

[carelisswriting]

I wrote something based off a prompt by @epkot94 https://at.tumblr.com/epkot94/dp-x-dc-idea-time-so-eventually-danny-tells-jazz/8wbwdhtc71pm

 I hope y’all like this, this is the first bit of my writing I’m posting on Tumblr! I also crossposted this on Ao3, which is https://archiveofourown.org/works/45308998 

Btw, I adore @proshipper-on-ship and @kine-iende thinking of Dan calling Danny ‘Mom’, so that’s in here too!

EDIT: @lenacraft drew some amazing fan art of the Phantom royal family here! https://at.tumblr.com/lenacraft/im-still-trying-to-figure-out-how-i-wanna/u0n7lg2g8eo9

---

Dan liked being one of the ‘good guys’, don’t get him wrong. He enjoyed saving people, and being seen as a superhero. What he didn’t like was being on a team.

Oh he could work with them just fine, but Ancients did they get on his nerves. Superman constantly checking in on him, Batman trying to figure out his identity (he didn’t have one in this universe anyway, take that asshole), Flash trying to befriend him. All in all, Dan was not a fan of his coworkers. (Ellie insisted that he secretly liked them, but she was wrong and also being very annoying about it.)

They were being particularly annoying today. Flash hadn’t stopped talking for the last 20 minutes. They were all in the main meeting room, for some sort of meeting. Honestly, Dan hadn’t been paying attention, so he had no clue why they were all here. Batman was droning on at the front of the room, something about a cult? Dan had no clue, and really didn’t care enough to listen.

He was idly tossing his thermos (which he still hadn’t told the Justice League the purpose of) back and forth when John Constantine burst into the room.

“We’ve got a problem.” He said, slightly out of breath.

Everyone had stopped talking when he burst in, turning to stare at the man. Batman sighed, before asking “What is it?”

Constantine came up to the table they were all sat around, setting down an ancient looking book across the table from Dan. He noticed that the title was in something similar to Ghostspeak. Interesting. He wasn’t gonna tell any of his coworkers about it, though. They all thought he was an alien, which technically he was, and it would be suspicious for him to know some random magical language, even vaguely.

“Someone is summoning powerful entities from a dimension parallel to ours, using this book.” Constantine said, gesturing to the book “I brought my copy, but I don’t know how to stop these beings.”

“Why?” Batman grunted out the question, already flipping through the old book.

Constantine sighed aggressively, pulling out a cigarette. He lit it, before answering sarcastically “I don’t know, maybe because they’re significantly more powerful than most beings from this dimension? Maybe because they have an insane set of abilities?”

Batman grunted in acknowledgement, turning back to the book.

A few moments passed, before everyone started talking, shouting questions over each other. Dan sighed. This was going to be a long day.

\(oo)/

A few hours passed, everyone still trying to figure out what the hell to do. Well, almost everyone. Dan had long since given up on planning, playing a game on his phone under the table. It wasn’t like anything could actually be a threat to him, and if it was? He’d just call Danny. He’d prefer if his coworkers figured something out, however, so he hadn’t bothered telling them about the fact that he could probably deal with whatever this was in a snap. If they still hadn’t figured anything out in the next hour, he’d deal with it.

Wonder Woman looked up from the book Constantine had summoned for her to read through, hoping it had answers.

“Where are these entities from? You didn’t say what dimension it was.” She asked.

Dan realized that no one had thought to ask that anytime in the last few hours. Seriously? He knew that most of his coworkers were stupid when it came to magic and stuff like it, but seriously? He slipped his phone back into his pocket, wanting to see where this was going.

Constantine glanced up from where he was studying a leatherbound tome. Dan couldn’t see what it was about from here, but he bet it was unhelpful, considering how much Constantine had been glaring at it over the last few minutes.

“The Infinite Realms. It’s an extremely dangerous dimension, home to the dead.” Constantine answered, his tone grim.

Dan couldn’t help it. He chuckled. His coworkers looked at him like he was insane, which only caused him to laugh harder. He bent over the table, laughing.

“Something funny, Phantom?” Batman asked, glaring at him.

(Dan had stolen Danny’s superhero name, it was his first anyway. And besides, everyone found it hilarious, including Danny.)

Dan theatrically wiped a tear from his eye before replying “Yeah, it’s so damn funny that he said that with a straight face. I mean, c’mon, ‘extremely dangerous’? Maybe if you’re an idiot.”

Superman raised an eyebrow at Dan, before exchanging a look with Batman.

“Have you been to these ‘Infinite Realms’?” Superman asked, voice calm.

Dan snorted “Yeah, of course. Ancients, if the problem’s just some guy summoning ghosts, I’m just gonna call my mom.” Dan could deal with it himself, but where was the fun in that?

He pulled out his phone again, dialing Danny’s number. The ‘mom’ thing had started as a joke, but honestly? It fit Danny so well, and Ellie already called him that, so why shouldn’t Dan?

“Why are you-“ Flash asked, before being cut off by Batman.

Batman glared at Dan “What are you doing.” He asked flatly.

Dan laughed, waiting for Danny to pick up.

“Calling my mom, duh.”

Batman gave an aggravated sigh, and went to speak.

Danny picked up, and Dan immediately started talking, cutting off whatever Batman was about to say.

“Hey, so, apparently some asshole is summoning ghosts and causing problems over here. Thought I’d have you deal with it.” Dan said, explaining quickly. The Justice League stared at him, shocked and very confused. Dan hadn’t told them anything about his family, so their reactions were pretty justified.

Danny sighed “Not even gonna say hello?”

Dan sarcastically cut him off “Hello!”

Danny sighed again, but Dan could tell he was amused. They shared a sense of humor, Ellie had the same one too. Perks of being a clone/evil future self and their original/past self (Their relationships were all kinds of funky, but it worked for them.)

“You said someone is summoning ghosts? I’ll be there in a sec.” Danny said, before hanging up.

Dan put his phone away, finally glancing at his coworkers. They all looked extremely confused, except Batman who was fuming, and Constantine who looked wary.  

“Who was that?” Batman growled.

Dan looked at him, the picture of innocent confusion.

“I already told you, my mom. He’ll be here in a moment.”

Dan could see Flash mouthing ‘he?’ to himself a few seats away. Dan relished in the sense of confusion he was causing. It was extremely funny watching his coworkers flounder in the face of Dan’s sheer chaos.

Constantine took a moment to speak “I don’t think-“

He was cut off as a green portal opened up in the middle of the room, above the table. Everyone, excluding Dan, went still as it appeared.

“What the-“ Superman started to say, as Batman pulled out a weapon. They were both startled by a white and black blur flying out of the portal and attaching itself to Dan.

Dan was knocked out of his seat as Ellie bowled him over. He tumbled down to the floor, falling flat on his back. Ellie grinned at him, sitting on his chest.

“Got you!” she gleefully yelled out. Dan chuckled, gently shoving her off him. He sat up, and was greeted with his coworkers, who all looked ready for a fight. Their faces switched to confusion when Dan just blankly stared at them.

“What’s up?” He said, slightly sarcastically.

Ellie floated into the air, hanging upside down in front of Dan.

“Well, you were just tackled by someone they don’t know.” She pointed out, a grin on her face.

Dan sighed, gesturing to Ellie “Please meet my little sister, Ellie. She’s an annoyance.”

Ellie smacked him on the shoulder, before flipping around so that she was facing the Justice League, and also so that she was right side up.

“Hi! It’s nice to finally meet Dan’s friends!” She said, darting away when Dan attempted to hit her.

“They’re not my friends! We’re coworkers!” he shouted as she flew to the corner of the room, sticking her tongue out at him.

He sighed, before looking at his coworkers. Most of them were still stuck in a state of confusion, and Flash hesitantly asked “I thought your mom was coming?”

“Oh yeah.” Dan said, before yelling over to Ellie “Where the hell is Mom?”

Ellie floated closer “He was right behind me, so-“

The portal, which had slipped the Justice League’s minds when faced with the chaos that is Ellie, sparked as Danny stepped out, before it flickered out of existence.

Immediately, the aura of Danny’s power settled over the room. Being the King of the Infinite Realms afforded someone a lot of power, and death magic always affected people more than other magics. Also, the crown, ring, and cape made him look very intimidating. Combine that with his imposing stature (inherited from Jack) and he was downright terrifying. It was a comforting thing to Dan, who was used to Danny’s powerful presence. To the Justice League, however, it felt like the Grim Reaper himself had just come for the souls.

Danny looked around, spotting Ellie floating up above the table.

“Ellie, I told you not to scare them! We want to make a good impression.” He said, Ellie immediately darting down to stand next to him.  

“Sorry Mom, I just wanted to say hi!” Ellie defended.

Danny sighed, ruffling her hair.

The Justice League looked so confused. Constantine looked like he was about to throw up.

“That’s… King Phantom.” Constantine said, shocked, before he scrambled to stand in front of the Justice League.

“We didn’t mean to offend, I swear-“ Constantine started, before Danny cut him off.

“Dude, it’s fine. I just came cause Dan asked.” Danny said with a chuckle, slightly uncomfortable. He had gotten better at the formalities that came with kingship, but he still wasn’t that comfortable when people begged for his mercy, understandably.

It seemed to hit everyone then. That this terrifying man, and king, was who Dan had been referring to when he said ‘Mom’.

While his coworkers processed his chaotic family, Dan floated over them to stand next to his mom.

Danny smiled, ruffling Dan’s hair. They were almost the same height now, so Danny didn’t even have to stretch to reach it.

“How have you been? I know we talk everyday, but it’s not the same as seeing you in person.” Danny said, a soft smile on his face.

“I’ve been fine, Mom. It’s nice, helping people.” Dan replied.

Danny beamed at him “I’m happy it’s working out!”

“Yeah, and you haven’t even tried to kill someone!” Ellie cut in, a smirk on her face.

Dan reached out automatically to swat at her, but she dodged.

The Justice League seemed to snap out of their shock.

They are started to talk at once, before Batman yelled “Quiet!” over top of the noise.

“I believe introductions are in order.” He said, before muttering under his breath “especially as they’re some sort of royalty.”

Dan hadn’t told them about his enhanced hearing, so Batman had no way of knowing that the three ghosts could hear him perfectly. Dan and Ellie shared a smirk at how done the man sounded with them.

Danny clapped his hands, startling some of Dan’s coworkers.

“Yes, you are correct! Danny Phantom, King of the Infinite Realms, at your service!” Danny said cheerily.

Ellie spoke next “Ellie Phantom, Princess of the Infinite Realms.”

They both looked expectantly at Dan, who sighed.

“Dan Phantom, Prince of the Infinite Realms.”

Technically, he was also sort of the king, but it had been a different Infinite Realms that he conquered, so this one had decided he was a prince. He was fine with it, honestly being King sounded annoying.

Predictably, that led to another outcry from his coworkers. Constantine looked like he was having a mental breakdown.

When they had settled down, Superman asked “You’re a prince?”

Flash chimed in “Also, your superhero name is just your last name?”

“You’re the prince of the Infinite Realms. The place the entities are from?” Wonder Woman added.

Dan rolled his eyes at the questions, before looking at Danny pleadingly. Danny sighed, but answered the questions for him.

“Yes, we are the royal family of the Infinite Realms. And the beings there are called ‘ghosts’, by the way. Also, Flash, it was a superhero name before it was a last name.”

If anything, that answer made Flash even more confused.

Ellie stuck out her tongue at Dan “If you just told them about us, you wouldn’t have to deal with all these questions!” she sang out.

Dan groaned “Can you stop it for two seconds?”

“Nope!”

“I swear to the Ancients, I’m gonna-“

“Settle down, you two.” Danny cut in, stopping the argument.

Dan and Ellie gave him matching pouts. They loved arguing with each other over nothing, it was fun.

Danny sighed, before turning back to the Justice League.

“So, Dan said that you’ve got a ghost problem?”

Batman stepped forward.

“Yes. Someone is summoning ‘ghosts’ into our world and causing havoc. Constantine doesn’t know who, but they need to be stopped.”

Danny closed his eyes for a moment.

“Okay, got it. Some asshole in Central City.”

Constantine startled “How do you know where he is? I couldn’t find him, even with my most powerful tracking spells!” He shouted, before a look of immediate regret came over his face. He probably just remembered that he was yelling at a death god, or close to one.

Danny dropped his smile, his eyes going blank. His presence seemed to double, a crushing sense of doom coming over the room. Constantine realized just how much he screwed up.

“The Realms is connected to all, especially those who are going to die shortly.” He said, flatly.

Dan chuckled slightly at Danny’s scary act, sharing an eyeroll with Ellie. Danny tried so hard to be intimidating, and it never really worked.

(Meanwhile, the entire Justice League is trying not to faint. Constantine really needs a drink.)

Superman shook it off first, asking “Going to die shortly? Are you going to kill him?” his voice pitched down at the end, trying to sound threatening.

Danny laughed, the crushing aura receding “No, of course not!”

Superman nodded, relieved.

“I’m just not gonna stop the others from doing it!” Danny continued.

Immediately, the mood of the room plummeted.

“What do you mean?” Batman asked.

Danny gave them a sharp smile, Ellie and Dan mirroring it on either side.

“He is enslaving my people, Batman. I’m sure they’ll want justice for that.”

Danny turned, opening another portal above the table.

“I’ll go deal with the asshole. Ellie, Dan, let’s go.” Danny said, smiling at them.

Ellie patted Dan on the head, before darting through the portal.

Dan looked out at the Justice League.

“I’ll be back in a bit, don’t wait up.” He said. He was definitely going to take advantage of his family coming to visit him, he wanted to hang out with them a bit. Maybe show them Gotham? He knew Danny and Ellie would get a kick out of it.

With that, Dan walked into the portal.

Danny surveyed the Justice League for a moment.

“Thank you for helping Dan. Don’t be too annoying to him over all this, okay?” His words were light, but his tone was anything but.

Batman nodded seriously.

Danny smiled, stepping through the portal to go keep his kids from getting into too much trouble.

(Constantine looked seriously at Batman “Don’t call me for the next week, I need to get drunk. To deal with all…that.”)

 ---

Tag List! 

@seraphinedemort @ever-changing-weirdo-3100 @thewondersoflebanon @botwadtict @akikkobara @sailor-goddess @dontfightmecauseillcry 

[thatdesklamp]

Hello, and (for the moment) ‘see you in a while’ from old desklamp.

(Quick edit now I’ve written this all out: Oh, lordie—I’ve just realised that this sounds like I’m announcing I’m giving up on IW. I’m not! I promise. This is all about how I’m trying to facilitate my writing process. IW is not being dropped: let’s get that out of the way first, lmao.)

Hello all! I’ve been doing some self-reflecting, and I’ve come up with this: I’ve struggled with writing ‘Intrinsic Warmth’ for a long time now.

Alll too often I’ve been sat with my laptop for hours having only managed to squeeze out one or two paragraphs that I don’t even like all that much anyway. I haven’t felt satisfied by writing for a long time, and so I just haven’t written anything. It’s been months since I’ve written something worth reading for IW, and I’ve been having a think as to why.

I think it comes down to two things; I’ve been feeling a lot of pressure in writing IW, and I’ve become too fixated on the instant gratification of feedback from you guys.

First: the pressure. IW has gotten bigger than I ever considered it would be, especially recently (as in, in the jjk season 2 era). The support and feedback continues to blow me away, and I’m staggered every time I stop to actually consider the magnitude of the response that IW has gotten. It’s genuinely crazy.

All that is to say: I wasn’t prepared for this!! I don’t mean that in any resentful way at all, I want to be clear. Moreso that it’s easy to feel a bit overwhelmed by it all. I know that, relative to other huge ao3 fics, IW isn’t even that huge. But I also recognise that in the ‘Gojo x reader scene’, it’s pretty up there, even if we’re just looking through a ‘filter by most kudos’-ed fic angle. There’s a been big response, and I’m just one person, lmao. But come on, I absolutely love it, and I’m so grateful that people have enjoyed the stuff I’m writing—but as more and more people have been picking it up I’ve felt a definite pressure put upon me. It’s a pressure to write well, and to write more, and to write good things more often. This isn’t to do with anything anyone’s said, don’t worry, but more as an expected consequence of IW picking up traction.

I feel more and more like a ‘popular author’, and feel like I’m doing you guys a disservice with my infrequent updates. I truly do appreciate the reassurance of ‘you can update whenever you want!’, genuinely, but I’m also an ao3 reader myself! I empathise with and understand the frustration that must be felt when I go months between updates. Writing has never come at the expense of my personal, academic or social life (hence why I’ve never tried to tie myself down with an update schedule: I’d never be able to keep to it), and I’d never want it to. I want to keep writing as it’s always been: one of my hobbies. But as IW increases in popularity, it feels like it almost *should* take priority over other things, and this has left me feeling pretty overwhelmed.

My second reason: I’ve also become a tad too dependent on feedback. When IW was in its fledgling stages, I didn’t show it to anyone at all, and was ‘writing for myself’ in the barest sense of the phrase. Only one of my irl friends has read any of it, and when I was first uploading it, when I had about 5ish comments per chapter, any feedback I was getting would always be secondary to my own. I was writing for myself, because I enjoyed writing and I enjoyed what I was writing about, and it just so happened that there were a few people who felt the same as me.

It’s very different now! And I much prefer it now—it’s every writer’s dream to have had such an overwhelmingly positive response to their writing. And now it gets to the point where I can check my emails, or look at my tumblr notifications, and there’ll always be new for me. And whilst I absolutely love this, it’s pretty addictive, checking again and again, seeing what people are saying. This positive response from others is more instantly gratifying than the slow, steady, personal enjoyment I get from writing.

It sounds silly, I know, but I’ve been writing this hunger games fic (completely spontaneous, likely never to be published), and no-one’s read it but me, and it’s reminded me how much I really do like writing. I’ve loved the process of writing it, because the only person whose opinion I’m listening to is my own.

I don’t want to discourage people from reaching out to me, leaving comments, even talking about IW, anything like that. That’s not what I mean. But this is me recognising that I should probably take a step back from the non-writing side of writing: being active on tumblr, constantly checking asks, making posts, etc. Know that whilst I may not immediately respond to you, once I get back in the swing of things over here, I will do. I just need to sort out my personal priorities a bit, I think.

Saying this, I know I haven’t been all that active recently (this has honestly been intentional: I’ve been trying to wean myself off it, lmao) but for the immediate future, I’m making that more definite: I’m going to try to revert my focus to writing. I’m going to stay off tumblr for a bit, until I’ve gotten back into the swing of writing and don’t find myself so focused on the feedback side of it all. Hopefully this’ll spark up some more genuine passion in me! Please know that if you’ve written an ao3 comment, I have read it. I don’t know when I will respond to them, but I definitely will, I just want to keep my focus on the personal side of writing for the moment.

Thank you to everyone! Again, this is just me going off the grid for a while: not a big fuckoff goodbye or anything. If this is unreasonably theatrical, blame my drama GCSE. Going off to do some writing now. See you guys!

[sasuhinamonth]

Beginnings and Ends - SasuHina Recs

It's the 21st! That means it's fic writer appreciation day!

In celebration, I'd like to share some SH recs, but in a fun way!!! I'll be posting the first and last line of the fic, along with name, author, and brief description as to why I'm rec-ing it!

Good work, writers!

p.s. - Most of the links will be to FFNet, but if you see purple text, that means it's posted on AO3 as well~ I'm just doing this to save a little time on my end, but I understand some prefer reading on AO3!

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

A Miracle by Eleanor Rigby 000

"A field trip!?" The class repeated. After that, several voices chirped, each of them commenting on how psyched they are for the class field trip.

"Forever," she assured

This is a angsty, passionate story of hurt, comfort, love, and meeting an old love. The story is Modern AU where Sasuke's a model and comes back to visit his childhood town, where he meets Hinata. Honestly, this is the first and only fic that has made me actively cry, and I cannot praise it enough! Please check it out!!!

~-~-~

Okaeri by The Penumbra

She felt his fist connect with her stomach and went crashing down to the ground, barely having time to register what was happening.

"Okaeri, Sasuke. Welcome home."

This is sort of a prequel to the author's other fic "Snapshots: Black and White", which is also a stellar fic. It's set in canonverse, where Sasuke and Hinata slowly develop a friendship/relationship. You'll get your fair amount of angst, but really, you can hardly avoid such things in SH fics xD.

~-~-~

Ichinen by Cinderella Starsend

Hyuuga Hinata stifled a yawn as she stepped out of the door and shut it behind her.

"And I love you."

I LOVE this fic! It's split into 12 chapters, each corresponding with a month. Hinata works at Ichiraku's in an attempt to get closer to Naruto, but she bonds with Sasuke more. I really enjoy fics set in the narutoverse that change things like this, mixing around dynamics so it's not always ninja stuff and war and training. It's a cute story, and the author's prose is beautiful!

~-~-~

Neji Hyuuga: Matchmaker by emilyjm

Hyuuga Neji prided himself on seeing things other people never noticed.

Mission: matchmaker must be completed within five years.. Good luck, Neji!

UGHHHHH! Where do I start????? It's set in narutoverse where Neji's not only alive, but in charge of matchmaking everyone in Konoha so that he can get Sasuke and Hinata together. It's incredible sweet and incredibly moving and incredibly moving, and I love SH fics with a heavy focus on Neji. Please read it, and please read Another Story (sequel) which is JUST as good!!!

~-~-~

When Will I Lose You by @elreinodelpurgatorio

Hinata, Lady of the Underworld, stands in her peach orchard and watches the Doom God and the Messenger God speak to each other.

One of these days, Sasuke, seated on a throne next to Hinata, is the one to look at a wretched soul and say: "Request denied."

This is a really fun HadesxPersephone AU where Hinata is Hades and Sasuke is Persephone! It's a short, magical read that is always a breath of fresh air! The author is really good at coming up with pretty sentences. Highly rec!

~-~-~

What's Mine To Give by WritingHyuHin

After the massacre of his clan, Sasuke had one goal in his life at that young age. Revenge.

The things I do for you... Only you.... Hinata.

This is a rewriting of The Last movie, but SasuHina style! I think it's very believable and a fun thing to read, since I've watched The Last quite a few times. Seeing things that should be Naruto but are instead replaced with Sasuke warm my little, shipper heart. Give this one a chance!

~-~-~

Nyctophilia by Sommernacht

For as long as he could remember, the night had offered him comfort.

"Indeed," he whispered against her skin. His fingers found their way under her fishnet top, making her shiver under the touch. "The most beautiful night."

Sommer hits it out of the park once again! This was their 2022 SHMonth one-shot in which Sasuke and Hinata secretly meet each other when 'borrowing' meds at night. They grow close and confide in one another, and I think it's a loving, deep connection that is impressive to make in just one chapter!

~-~-~

A Study of Mannerisms and Other Alterations by MissLe

Sasuke Uchiha, as it was well known, was in possession of some very, very gorgeous eyes.

She decided, however, that the regal Uchiha nose would always hold a special place in her heart.

Ahhhh, this is probably one of my all time favorite fics! It's fluffy, it's cute, it's funny! I absolutely adore it! This fic is set in a Modern AU, where Hinata is a waitress at a cafe and Sasuke, a member of the firefighter team that comes by almost daily, has a pretty obvious crush on her. These two dweebs are adorable, and I read this fic so much!!!

~-~-~

Uprooted by @kiljoius

Today, Hinata is 20.

“Maybe I can live with that.” Maybe she can, too, she thinks.

Arranged Marriage? Check. Fluff and Humor in a SH FIC of all things???? Check. Witty dialogue and amazing chemistry? Check check check! Without giving too many spoilers, this Modern AU fic follows Hinata and Sasuke, who plan to act 'over the top' in their arranged relationship in order to get out of it. Lets just say it doesn't work as planned for them huhu. This is a really fun fic, so if you're in the mood, give it a read!

~-~-~

This is what I've got for now, but please feel free to comment or reblog with your own favorite fics (either your own or others) with their first and last lines.

@kiljoius @elreinodelpurgatorio @daifukumochiin @catruru @fher43 @gardenatsuntime @lavendereyedassassin @cariata @naoko-ichigo @lavender-long-stories @p-crowds @queenfox352 - You guys, too! Show off fics you like (or your own)!

Good work to all authors/writers out there! We love you!!!

Mod: PC

[lulublack90]

About Me

Hi there, Lulu here.

I do have a real name but I prefer to go by Lulu on here and Ao3 so please use that.

I go by she/he/they. Call me what you want I don't mind. It changes day by day for me in the real world, but my friends and family don't know that.

I'm pansexual but again only a few people know that.

I'm in my 30's but have the maturity of a teenager unless I'm in parent mode when I have to pretend to be a grown-up (It does not last long!).

I am a huge huge huge Harry Potter fan (Fuck JK, she's a dick!) My house is full of so many HP-related items. In fact, I think every room has something in it, thank the gods my husband is also a massive nerd.

In case you can't tell I am Neurospicy. I am in the middle of getting diagnosed with ADHD and by that I mean I am procrastinating actually starting the process.

Now where was I?

Oh, yeah I like so much stuff I can't think what else to put here but yeah Harry Potter, mainly Marauders era but I love anything really.

My fav ships are Wolfstar (I've loved them since I was a young thing and didn't even know it was a thing." Jegulus (My new love.) Dramione (Lord have mercy) Drary (Lord I need more mercy) Pandalily (Meep!) Dorlene (Squeek!) I like Marylily as well but not as much, but I love them when I read them.

My asks are open and you can send me whatever you want, no hate please no one needs that in their life and Tumblr is my happy place don't spoil it.

Things that make me happy

You guys. Honesty it's Tumblr, I've only just really found this and all you amazing people who like my silly stories that I've only been writing regularly since December 23 when I found you all. My husband and son make me happy and so do my dogs and cats. I love watching storms and autumn. I read a lot, I crochet, I knit, I write. I am a huge fan of chocolate. If you give me chocolate I will be your friend.

Music

Bowie. Nuff said.

But yeah I like a lot of different stuff, it depends on my mood as to what I listen to. I drive my husband mad because I like songs by lots of people but I can't remember what they're called or who they're by.

Books

My all-time favourite book will always be Prisoner of Azkaban. It is my happy place.

My house is full and I mean full of books. I don't actually know how many I have but last time I estimated I had 300 in my bedroom alone. (There are piles of books in every room 😬)

ACOTAR!!!

Shows/movies

Harry Potter, The Martain, The Princess Bride, Labyrinth, Hunger games, Twilight (Don't judge me they got me through a dark time.), How to train your Dragon, Disney anything, plus others there are so many and I'm bored of listing.

Good Omens, Schitts Creek, Parks and Rec, Bake off, Handmaids tale, It's always sunny, community, Harbin hotel, archer, vampire diaries. Plus more but yeah typing.

Okay I think I'm done but who knows I might add more if I remember.

Love you all

Lulu

xxx

My Ao3 List

These are my fanfics on my ao3

Bitten M- Remus, Sirius and James head to the forest for a fun full moon. Everything is going great until one of them has an accident. (This was the very first fanfic I wrote. It's okay.) Wolfstar. Complete.

The Prisoner T- Sirius Black has been wrongly imprisoned for 12 years. He's bided his time but now its time to escape and right the wrongs of the past.

The Prisoner of Azkaban as told by Sirius Black, filling in the gaps starting with his escape from Azkaban. Wolfstar. Complete.

The Cupboard E- Hiding from Filch and awaiting rescue things get a bit close in the cupboard between Remus and Sirius. Wolfstar smut one shot. Complete.

Birthday E(I think, I'm not good at telling) Sirius finds Remus alone in their dorm room instead of enjoying the party downstairs. Wolfstar. Complete.

The One That Got Away E- James agrees to throw a party at his house. Sirius asks to bring his little brother, how could that possibly affect James at all? Based on the micro fic series I wrote in January. Jegulus. Backcould Wolfstar. Complete.

Jegulus Prompt Series All the prompts I've written on here in one place.

Wolfstar Prompt Series All the prompts I've written on here in one place.

The Way They Were T - While Harry is clearning out Grimmauld Place he discovers that Wolfstar were a thing.

Love Hate and the Ability to Change M - Sirius is taking Remus to the hosital wing on the full moon and Regulus catches them kisses. After some rather nasty words Regulus tells Sirius something about himself.

The Way They Are M - Part two of The Way They Were. Harry and Draco spend more time together and Draco finds another box for Harry, this time from Remus.

[hollowsart]

I've kinda noticed something for a long while now within the writing side of tssm doc ock's little fanbase here on tumblr and on ao3 cuz the two overlap, but like..

I know people are just having fun and don't mean any harm with it, and I mean no offense to those people, but like.. I've noticed that there's some level of infantilization going on with Otto pre-accident whenever people write him and how he behaves. and then when he's post-accident it gets weirdly dark. from one extreme to the other. from stark white to stark black. no room for any real grey in there.. it's rare to see any grey shown within his character from what I've read.

the man looks to be about 35yrs old minimum (at least to me) in the show and has a phd and probably even more diplomas than that. I think that needs to be acknowledged in general, y'know? let him have his agency and autonomy..

..I went on a bit of a rant about this last night to a friend. I'll copy some of what I said last night here (mentions of 'reader' stuff cuz that's where I've seen it):

Don't get me wrong, I, too, would love to cook meals and make him feel safe and comfortable and happy and loved.. but dang. That's a grown man. He can cook his own food and stuff, too. He's been doing that for years before the reader even showed up. How else has he even survived that long?

It might not have been the best survival, but he knows enough of what he's doing.

I think Otto, regardless of whether it's before or after the incident, would very much prefer to have someone who treats him like an equal and allows him room to speak his thoughts and feelings and actually be heard and respected.

I mean.

There's been many instances in the show where Otto speaks confidently and has even said things that Norman didn't approve of. He's also tried to talk back to Norman a few times before his incident.

So he's literally not the "oh.. o-oh no.. n-no.. ah.." type like me only worse and needing to be directed and praised like a child for learning to do a simple task for the first time on their own. (I relate to pre-ock Otto in a lot of ways in how he is shown in the show. his actions and behaviors.. so I know.)

Like, even I wouldn't wanna be treated that way. Just give me encouragement and validation. Praise me like you would another adult.

..After all. some of that stuff can come off as patronizing or even demeaning even if you do mean well by it and have no ill intentions behind it. it's good to balance things out and allow the character to act on their own free will, too.

[ariddletobesolved]

of preferences and headcanons.

Hi! I know I haven't posted real content in over a year, but since I've been on Tumblr the past week, I can't help but notice a discourse happening on Helsa tag.

I believe as a community, we should all respect other people's takes and opinions, especially in a fandom, where everyone may perceive things differently. Everyone has their own preferences that not everyone could get or understand, and that is okay. For example, and also to address the elephant in the room, if you prefer a ship (in this case, Helsa) to not be canon, it's totally fine. And if you would love for it to be canon, then that is fine too. It's not okay when you try to tell people how they must feel towards a certain media (in this case, Frozen) and tell fellow shippers they're not a true shipper just because they don't share the same preferences as you do. Stating an opinion of your preference is not the same as telling others to change that preference to suit the one that you like.

"I would prefer to not have them to be canon."

"If you're a true fan, you would have done THIS instead!"

See how different those two sentences are? The first one is neutral, while the other one is more demanding.

Honestly, I want to respect both, but I believe respect is earned and not given, and if the person is being disrespectful then I will return the disrespect back to their faces. Treat people the way you want be treated, remember?

I've been in between fandoms for over a decade, so I've come across discourses over headcanons and preferences plenty of time. Here's a reminder: Be respectful! It's not hard if you recognise that everyone perceive things differently and that the world doesn't revolve around you and your opinions only. You can always agree to disagree.

Being respectful also means being respectful to fanartists and fanwriters. Have some decency and refrain from using someone else's works without their permission (it's not hard to ask!). Just because you found it on Google does not mean it's public domain. As for appreciating fanwriters, you can start by reading what you want to read. You can start by filtering keywords and tropes or genres that you don't like. AO3 has a tagging system for a reason. If you don't pay attention to the tags, don't blame the writer for writing what they want to write and not how you want it. They create contents for free and you are not the boss of them. If you want something that specifically suits your taste buds, you can commission them.

Learn how to differentiate between what's canon and what's your own headcanon and interpretations, what's canon and what's a mere concept. Maybe you're reading too much into it, maybe it's in your head. Headcanons are fun, being delulu is literally my middle name, but not everything that you perceive is canon. You can disregard canon (like I do, most of the time) but you have to be clear about it, and draw a hard line to separate them, label them with 'canon divergence' or 'canon compliance' (you can look up each definition). A concept that did not make into the final product can hardly be considered canon.

This fandom community is supposed to be a safe space for everyone regardless their reason in shipping Helsa (be it because of their appealing aesthetics or others) as long as they're being respectful to each other. I didn't think I would be here writing all these to address the bad apples. Sure, the bad apples are always there in every community, but when these bad apples are the loud majority, I feel like I have to say something to clear up some misconceptions about this fandom. Helsa fandom isn't exactly popular, even back in the day, and it's mostly because shippers of other ships and fandom purists have already assumed the worst when they interacted with the ship before they did the shipper, which once again is out of the shippers' control.

From my experience, name-calling fellow shippers over these niche stuff will drive people away and discourage some creators from creating content (I already am on this stage). So, in my opinion, let's just agree to disagree. It's probably just me, but it's not like we have the power to make the writers write what we want anyway (Frozen 2 is already a proof that they would write what they want to write).

[castrian-amore]

Bitter had the Heart

Dead Tired(Tim Drake x Danny Fenton), Tim Drake-centric, unfinished, the author is plotting, temporary character death, please check out ao3 for full tags list

3/46 Chapters | Chapter Length: 3584 words

Chapter 3: We are Not Translating Fanfiction

Tim didn’t understand why he had even picked this class for this particular credit. He technically didn’t need it. Then again it seemed more interesting than the other classes and Tim had been hoping for a challenge for once. The teacher was big on working as team and while, yeah Tim could do it. He preferred to work alone on his topics and thankfully there was an odd amount of people in his class so when he requested to do the group assignments he allowed it. 

Until today. 

One Daniel “Danny” Nightingale, was a late transfer into the class for unknown reason. It was also the mysterious kid in the alley. He looked a little better in person but the vote was that he was definitely sick, whether just right now or long term had yet to be determined. He leaned heavily on a cane at the moment walking with a heavy limp.

Tim could point out his handsome features though. The higher cheekbones. The stunning raven hair, his piercing blue eyes. The kid definitely wasn’t immune to the streets. The way he held himself on the verge of running. The sunken wary eyes. This kid was far too comfortable with living in fight or flight mode. If he even knew anything else it would be surprising. 

The teacher pointed to Tim giving him the spot right next to him advising sitting next to the person he would be partnered with. It wasn’t required by any means but it certainly was an option, and he did. 

“So, now that that’s out of the way, where was I? Oh yes the IPA. The International Phonetic Alphabet.” Professor Kaivan began his speech as Danny pulled out a piece of notebook paper and pencil sitting next to Tim. 

“Uh, hi, I’m Danny,”The kid held out his hand and Tim shook it. A cold chill going up his spine from how cold he was, damn. 

“Tim Drake-Wayne,”he introduced with ease, expecting the man to back away or at least move seats because of his name. The Wayne name caught most people off guard but Danny seemed unfazed by it all. In fact he didn’t even flinch or stutter or reel at who he was talking to even. 

“Nice to meet you Tim,”Danny gave him a bright smile. “Apologies for having you stuck with partnering for me after I’m already a late transfer.”

“No issue. Can I ask why you had to transfer?”Tim raised an eyebrow at the man. Their words quiet as the professor droned on. 

“I was in Latin, and I can fluently speak and read latin. The professor kept getting things wrong and I kept correcting them. They kept insisting because they’re the ‘professor’ but I kept insisting I was right, which I was. She didn’t like that so she kicked me out. She got so annoyed she refused to teach me. Thus leaving me with about to loose my credit I really needed this semester so I asked if I could late transfer into another language based class.” 

“And here you are?” 

“Here I am. Only teacher that was willing to give me a chance.” 

Tim snorts a little. Tim had only almost been kicked out of a class one, and that was one of his law classes. Tim kept correcting the professor over and over and over again, and it kept pissing off the professor so bad. Tim had a sneaking suspicion he was going to like this guy. He just hoped the guy was as intelligent as he seemed. 

Being fluent in a dead language was no easy task. None of the bats were fluent in a lot of dead languages but they all knew several spoken languages and a little of a few dead ones. Tim more than others. Books were always his specialty. He preferred to spend the house researching alone in his room or the bat cave. It was part of the reason the other claimed he had a coffee addiction. He did not by the way. He didn’t know what Dick was even talking about. 

“Professor Kaivan is pretty relaxed about that kind of stuff. He assigns minimal homework and prefers to do the group projects over everything else.” 

“Yeah his rate-my-professor score is pretty high.” 

“Sounds about right,”Tim agrees, turning back to the topic at hand for the moment. 

“Now, learning the International Phonetic Alphabet is not for the faint of heart. Having someone to listen and assist when learning this is vital. One of the many reasons everyone in this room has a partner. Learning it is vital for the rest of your success in this class. Breaking down specific sounds a language makes and making it easy for everyone to read any language in this format.” 

Professor Kaivan was an interesting man. Until four and a half years ago he had some of the worst rate your professor scores, but it was rumored that after the death of his partner he sobered up and wanted to help people. Since then, he has been a great teacher. Using his partner method to teach people, becoming a caring professor, giving students days in class to study and work on whatever work needed to be done. He wasn’t a super hard professor to have. 

His hair was graying as the man was into his late 40s going on 50s. Sideburns and his beard graying though. He dressed pretty chill too, half the time coming into class wearing a casual cardigan and a beanie. He was an accomplished guy with a full on doctorate in linguistics. Masters in Psychology and bachelors in the study of Italian. Most of his focus seemed to be on the intricacies of the Italian language but Tim was fluent in Italian and didn’t care to take any of his italian classes. Not that the man had many. 

“I know the 107 letters can be difficult and if you don’t know what to listen for they can sound similar to each other, but that’s why this whole unit is just on breaking down the IPA, and making sure all of us can read, and understand it. Okay?” 

Mummers of okays and yesses echoed through the lecture hall. Tim opened his phone, scrolling to Dick’s phone number and clicking on it. 

Timmy Boi: Guess who just walked into my Linguistics class as a late transfer?

Dickie Bird: Who? 

Timmie Boi: Alley kid

Dickie Bird: No fucking way. Is he that rude in person?

Timmie Boi: No not yet at least. We’re partnered up for the semester though, so plenty of time for me to find out heh. Dude’s got a cane. 

Dickie Bird: So not our so-called mystery vigilante Jason wants us to meet?

Timmie Boi:  Unlikely, He also looks sick as a mother fucker Dick. Like it’s bad. 

Dickie Bird: Damn, so still no leads until Friday? 

Timmie Boi: Unfortunately not. Cams still distorted as fuck with those symbols?

Dickie Bird: Just like all the others. Only copies we have are hand drawn references. No one can get a clear pic. 

Timmie Boi: Anyluck on the Distortion dude? Anything on him?

Dickie Bird: Uhh, he showed up 3 years ago? Works for Jason mostly. Started as a runner, then became body guard and personal protection for a lot of the shipments going in and out of Jason’s domain. That was only after bribing over 15 inmates too. 

Timmie Boi: How the fuck did Jason keep someone, a meta namely, from us for so long? 

Dickie Bird: Who knows. One guy said something about protecting a child. The child is Jason’s guard dog. Brutal when he needs to be. Maybe he’s scarier than he looks? People kept quiet over fear? 

Timmie Boi: You’re the people person, but even then if people are scared we would have heard something else. I just think we have something else in the picture here that we’re missing it all. 

Dickie Bird: Well, any cameras he passed by that night went to static. I had Barb check it out for us. 

Timmie Boi: So his gift can mess with cameras? Only mildly concerning. 

Dickie Boi: Wait, why are we having this conversation right now Tim? You’re in class?!?!?! I’m leaving you alone. Pay attention, and don’t fall asleep, and DRINK WATER FOR ONE IN YOUR CAFFEINE ADDICTED LIFE. 

Timmie Boi: YOU CAN’T STOP ME DICK. I’M GETTING COFFEE RIGHT AFTER THIS. 

Speaking of coffee, he could probably get mystery-dude’s phone number for their homework and stuff. Maybe he could even get coffee with him and help him with his classes. And maybe find out more about that night in the alley. 

“What are you doing after class?”Tim spoke up to look over at the man. Danny wasn’t even paying attention to the lecture. He was… drawing? Way better than anything Tim could draw that was for sure. Maybe he would get along with Damian? Tim liked the easier stuff, taking pictures. He could draw but he didn’t like it nearly as much as being able to get behind a camera and take some beautiful photos. Man, he should get back into that again. Dick was always pressing him to get back into a hobby outside of crime solving. He liked to stick with what he was good at though. 

“Oh? Uh nothing really, just contemplating existence. Why what’s up?”Danny gave a soft shy smile. Oh no. His smile was cute. Also wait, contemplating existence?

“Well, I figured if we’re gonna be stuck together all semester we could get coffee and talk about the project and get to know each other a little better.” Tim could watch a wave of anxiety slip over the man. 

“Well, I don’t know maybe,”a small shrug then a quiet moment of contemplation. “Actually, sure that’d be nice!”  

“Great!”

“Wait, we already have a project?”Danny’s eyes widened looking from his doodle of something? Tim couldn’t make it out but it was pretty? Looked like a pool of swirling water sketched in a gray scale. Who knows. This guy must have been so distracted he didn’t hear the teacher’s words about their project. Rewriting a speech in a non-english language into the phonetic alphabet. 

Tim couldn't help but laugh a little at him. 

This caught a small look from the teacher and Tim stifled his laughter a little even as Danny began to fight his own laughter as the two looked at each other. That was so dumb. Why was he even laughing at that?

“I’ll explain after class.” 

“Sounds good to me, I’m just sitting here… doodlin’.” 

“I see that..” Tim gave him a smile as Danny chuckled himself turning back to his drawing. The man stretching his arms upwards turned to actually pay attention to the teacher. A small frown coming across his face noticing the thin spindly scars edging up the side of his neck across the back of his neck. What the fuck was that? He shook his head. 

Tim stayed mostly alert the rest of the hour long class. Kaivan had started going through the various letters of the IPA and their origins and why they were chosen. It was interesting to say the least. He had learned a lot and the class was definitely different than what he was used too. Danny on the other hand. 

Fuck Tim hoped the dopey smiles and spaced out stared was how he payed attention or their partnership was going to be a lot more strenuous than he originally thought. He swore he saw him falling asleep a couple times there before jerking himself awake. Not that Tim could blame him. He averaged only about 3 hours a night if he was lucky. Then again, Tim didn’t exactly play the whole “catch up on sleep” game. 

It did take a gentle nudge from Tim to get the man away and on their way to the coffee shop. He was slow as he walked with the cane but Tim didn’t say anything about it. Everyone had their little quirks and issues. Lord knows Tim had his. 

The cold autumn air in Gotham was settling around them. 

“What’s your major?” It was Danny who spoke up with a quiet smile. 

“Oh, business. I plan to take over my father’s company,”Tim replied. 

“Wow, impressive.” Danny looked up at the sky with a small chuckle as Tim raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Thanks, what’s yours?”

“Engineering, I was going to do Astronomy but we’ll the Gotham Skies aren’t exactly the clearest.” Danny chuckled softly as Tim gave a nod. 

“The smog helps no one. Glad you found a major you like though.” There was a silence settling between them but it didn’t lessen the mood in fact it almost felt welcomed in a quiet way. 

“Same to you!” Danny looked up at the crows stopping the duo in their tracks. There were almost 10 crows just watching them. Tim, had never seen that. All them staring at Danny. “Boo.” The man whispered and with a small chuckled, all 10 flew off the branches and into the air leaving Tim to watch and then follow. Missing how the birds simply landed up ahead. 

Tim was sort of lost in thought about the revelations they could possibly have about the whole Distortion situation. 

“Heyo, Timmy,”Danny’s voice dragged him from his thoughts and his slow pace holding the door open. “Don’t hurry up and you’ll be soaked.” He hadn’t even noticed a slow drizzle starting to fall from the sky. He held his hand out before running to meet the man. 

Tim joined the man into the warm coffee shop. The scent of pumpkin spice filling their noses as they moved to get in line. 

“Didn’t get too wet did you?”Danny asked concern surprising Tim. 

“Ah, no, don’t worry about me though.  I might be more concerned for when we leave here though.” 

“I’m not too worried.” The man gave a nonchalant shrug. “Can’t kill me worse than I already have been.” Was that a death joke? 

“Oh?”Tim gave a smirk. He wasn’t normally one for puns, those were Dick’s thing but also… Dick wasn’t here. “Did it have you rolling in your grave?” Dick could never find out about this but then Danny’s shit eating grin only widened across his face. 

“Oh, for sure it was to die for after all.” 

“I can’t I’m sorry,”Tim laughed with a smile. “What’re you getting? I’ll pay since I invited you out.” 

“Oh, I might scare you with my order.” 

“I promise you won’t. Mine is insane myself.” 

“One of those extra large pumpkin spice lattes with 10 shots of espresso.” 

“Extra large americano with 8 shots of espresso,”Tim quipped. “I see you’re a man just as insane as I am.” 

“Oh, for sure. I’ve never met someone with an order just as bad as mine,”he admitted as he stared up at the menu. “How are the sandwiches here? Are they pretty dead-licious?”

“Oh god..” 

“Or I don’t know, pretty frightful?” 

“Please Danny.” 

“I bet they’re boo-mbastic.” 

“Who ever uses that word anymore.” 

Okay Halloween was coming up admittedly. Yes there were halloween and fall decorations coming but, but god dammit Danny. It was like having another Dick around. 

“You decided to fuel this.” 

“I did not decide to fuel anything!”Tim complained just as they got to the counter ordering their coffees. It was a barista Tim was familiar with. A kind girl named Sarah who seemed to be all too familiar with the two of them. 

“Oh! Can I also get the mac and cheese please!”Danny offered another charming smile putting some money in the tip jar. “I can pay you back Tim.” 

“No worries.” Tim gave a shrug. 

“Alrighty and here you are Tim.” Sarah handed him his card back with the receipt as he himself put some money in the jar. 

“Damn, she knows your name?”

“I know you too Danny, Mr. 10 shots of espresso at midnight last week. You also fucking work here.” 

“Love you guysssss, and I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Danny practically purred out with an innocent smile. 

“You two together, scare me,”the barista motioned between the two of them. “But honestly, we were waiting for you two to meet.” 

“I’m innocent,”Tim vouched.”Also wait, what?” 

“I watched you order an extra large cup with only espresso shots in it for Finals last semester.” Sarrah refused to answer the apparent group that had been waiting for Tim and Danny to meet each other. 

“I was busy!” 

“You weren’t sleeping!” 

“Anyways I’m going to go over there,”Danny pointed to an empty table by the window. 

“Yeah, Tim. How about you go over there. With your little Date,”She emphasized the word as Danny was already over sitting down unpacking his backpack onto the table. 

“He’s not my date! We literally just met!” 

“Yet. Next in line please!” 

“Sarah-- no-- I swear to--”Tim could have sworn he saw an exchanging of cash behind the counters. Were they betting on something. What the fuck were they betting on?!? He hissed and moved to join Danny in the opposite seat. 

“So did you even catch what the group project is? How much have you studied of the Linguistics 101 class anyways?” Tim pulled out his laptop setting it in front of him. He logged in giving a small smile of the silly chaotic and group picture they had gotten last year at Christmas. Bruce stood on the far right and Jason on the far left Dick’s arm wrapped around his shoulder. Damian was trying to stab Tim again who was moving to dodge it. Steph chaotically cheering the gremlin on. Cass quietly wondering if she should intervene in the middle. Duke full on panicked at what was going on as it was his first Christmas with the family. Barb covering her mouth in laughter in front of Bruce. He wanted to make sure she was included. It was his favorite photo of him and his siblings. 

Fuck. Danny had been talking to him. 

“Earth to Timmy.” A wave of a hand in front of his face. 

“Please just Tim,”he laughs. “Sorry, yes?”

“I was asking about the IPA. Are you familiar with it? I have no idea on anything about it.” 

“I know like half of it? I’ll have to learn the other half,”he admits. “But yes, the project.” 

“Fuck, yeah okay what’s this project?” 

“It involves reading.” 

“No! WHY!” 

“In another language.. That neither of us speak.” 

“Oh god.” 

“Yeah, so we’re supposed to write down a 1,000 minimum word speech, or chapter from a book or whatever and put it into the International Phonetic Alphabet.” 

“I don’t know about you but I speak a lot, like A lot of languages.” 

“Yeah.. I feel the same way.” 

“What do you speak?” Danny playfully pushed Tim’s computer screen down from booting up the program the professor had given them to use to type out the phonetic alphabet. It was still apparently a nightmare program, but he had decided to type it so he wouldn't be deciphering shitty handwriting. 

“Mandarin, Chinese, Italian, German, French, russian, Japanese, tagalog, spanish, I think that’s all of them?” 

“You speak Tagalog too!” Danny’s words switched with ease to the language. 

“No fuckin’ way,” Tim had to laugh at that one. “What else do you speak?” 

“Same things are you but, Esperanto, Swahili, Cantonese, javanese, Sardo(technically a dialect but you know same difference),  Ukrainian, I think that’s all?” 

“I thought I was the Polyglot. Oh! I also speak ASL and BSL.” 

“I know bits and pieces of ASL, definitely no BSL though,”he laughs softly. “But wait what other languages does that leave?”

“Well, a lot but I mean. We could always pick an easy one we both know.” 

“Italian?” 

“Yeah, please. I do not want translate someone in a non-latin based alphabet. It registers funny in my brain.” 

“I gotta ask though Danny… Esperanto?” 

“Okay, leave me alone! I had a friend who spoke it and taught me it so we could shit about others.”  

“That’s fuckin’ hilarious though,”he smirked. “But what should we translate?” 

Danny looked like he was about to burst out laughing. “What if we just fucking translated the Divine Comedy.” 

“Danny Nightingale, are you telling me we should rewrite one of the most famous works of Italian writing, ever. That is also notoriously translated, a lot? And is--- you know.”

“Ma Divine Commedia,”Danny laughed. Tim could not with him right now. “E la fanfiction Tim.” 

“YEAH I KNOW, that’s why I can’t believe you’re suggesting it.” 

“COMMEDIA.” Danny proclaimed with a snort. Fuck that was cute. Thank god his name was called to grab their stuff. He could ignore the small twinge in his chest as he brought them their coffee and the food for Danny. 

“Let’s get this over with I guess.” 

“YES!” Danny threw his first into the air in excitement. “This is the start a beautiful friendship Tim, I promise.” 

“Are we about to be nightmares to our poor professor?” 

“What? Nooooo.” 

“Oh yes we fucking are,”Tim rolled his eyes and smiled as he sipped his drink pulling up the original document. They were so fucked, but at least it would be funny. If Danny was his new partner for his class maybe Friday would come sooner than he thought. 

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[lexosaurus]

Hi uhh i have a question i was scrolling at ao3 and i keep seeing pompous pep fiction a lot but i thought it was illegal because there is at least 20 year age gap im getting confused

AO3 is a creative writing/fanfiction archive that allows anything that's legal under US creative writing law. There are some limitations, like scripting out an episode of DP would not be allowed because that's copyright infringement, and posting something disguised as a fic that's not actually one (say, posting your headcanons list or your grandma's cookie recipe) isn't allowed because that's not a transformative work. But otherwise, people are allowed to post any fictional content that they so wish so long as it's tagged properly.

The tags are an awesome feature of the site and are why many people, myself included, choose to use AO3 as their main fanfiction domain. It allows you to opt in or opt out of any tag that you do or don't want to see. For example, I read/write a ton of gore, so I often filter in tags like "Dissection" (using the sidebar) so I can only see those types of fics. But there are tons of people who get squicked out by gore/dissection, so they might prefer to filter those tags out. Maybe they just wanna read a good smut fic, so they'd filter in that tag, while for me, I'm not so interested in that content, so I almost always filter it out before I browse.

I know this seems a bit long winded of me, but what I'm trying to get at is that because fanfiction is fictional, that means that ships and tags that you or I might argue are morally gray or even morally unethical are totally allowed on the site (aka no real children were harmed in the making of said fic, so not illegal). This includes Pompous Pep, which is Danny/Vlad. And if you don't want to see that, as many people probably don't, then the site makes it extremely easy to filter that stuff out! Woo!

The DP Phandom is a really really old phandom and we've had a history of "true vs anti" ship wars back in the 00's, which while a bit different than the kinds of shipping wars you see in other fandoms today, they still happened and were incredibly destructive within our spaces. People were fighting, there was lots of bullying, angry cliques, and overall moral policing "you can't sit with us" behavior to people who frankly didn't deserve it. There's not a lot of creatives left from that era, and the ones that did come back don't have a lot of positive things to say about it.

So yeah, maybe some people on AO3 write things that might squick you out, but from experience we've found it to be far more beneficial to just do our own things. Write the content you wanna write, read the content you wanna read, interact with the people you wanna interact with, and block/mute/filter out/whatever the rest. It's honestly not worth your mental health or sanity to try to police fics/art in here. We're too old, most of us got jobs, bills to pay, maybe even kids to feed, and it's honestly not worth our time. Besides, it's much more fun to participate in phandom events and nerd out with other creatives about silly AUs and tropes and geek out over art styles and colors than it is to worry about that stuff!

[space-mermaid-writing]

Consort and King [IronStrange]

Summary: Anthony Stark, King of Midgard, needs a spouse. Whether he wants one or not. So he accepts an arranged marriage with the Prince of Kamar-Taj – a man he has never met in his life to the day they are standing in front of each other at the altar, speaking their vows. Is it possible that the feeling of duty grows into something more? Will their future be happy?

Relationship: Tony Stark / Stephen Strange

Tags: arranged marriage au, royal au, strangers to husbands, enemies to lovers, slow burn, idiots in love, fluff, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, all the good stuff

Author's note: I'm finally back with a multi-chapter fic project! I started writing and plotting this last year. Then I got distracted by vampire Stephen and werewolf Tony. But I finally circled back to this and finished it on paper. Now I'm so happy to finally share this with you. New chapters will be posted regularly. Special thanks to my beta @kvjjjjjj who did a fantastic job and invested a lot of time and effort in this fic ♥

Ko-fi | Read it on AO3 | Series Masterlist | Word count: 3k | Next

Chapter 1: The wedding

The day of the wedding began early. There were still dozens of little things left to do, only a small part of which concerned Tony. He got breakfast in bed, but didn't have much of an appetite and settled for a single bagel.

"It's going to be a long day," Jarvis remarked, Tony’s mood not escaping him. "You need to eat."

"There will be plenty of opportunity to eat at the feast," Tony reassured his manservant slash personal guard slash personal advisor; and his own stomach.

It was unusual for him to let his feelings affect his hunger. But it was an unusual day and he suppressed that certain anxiety that probably overtook all grooms.

He took a long bath and tried to think of anything else but the wedding – without success. His fiancé had already arrived the night before, along with a small delegation from Kamar-Taj. The realm was far away and the journey must have been exhausting.

Tony wouldn’t see his soon to be husband until the actual ceremony. Not until it was too late to call the wedding off.

The day was a blur of people coming and going. Tony just nodded along whenever Pepper made him do any last minute decisions or May wanted an opinion on the decoration or the seating situation. As if Tony would care at this point.

This whole day has been planned for weeks and he knew that Pepper wouldn’t allow it to be less than perfect.

In the late afternoon Tony changed into his ceremonial wedding garment. The tailors had worked on it for weeks, painstakingly decorating it with beads and brocade. It must have taken hundreds of hours. All done for this one, special day.

Strapping his belt around him, heavy with an ornate dagger, his eyes drifted over his room. It had just been him living within those four walls for so long he couldn’t imagine how it would be to share them with another person.

He'd grown accustomed to his own company. But he was wise enough to understand that a marriage of alliance was something the kingdom needed for its own protection and strength. It had been something he'd resisted, whenever his father approached the topic. It hasn’t been necessary for when his father and king had still been alive. But now there was no further delay.

The events of the past year had made him realize how defenseless his kingdom was without a king or queen at his side. The kidnapping, his almost death, the betrayal of his uncle. Of all these events, the latter had hit him the hardest.

He needed a spouse, preferably kids to secure the future. Although that was a topic he had yet to discuss with his soon-to-be husband. Wasn't it strange to think about these things when he hadn't even seen his fiancé yet?

Tony stepped to the window, peering down below as the crowds gathered, already celebrating. He loved his people and desired to protect them, had vowed with his life to serve them.

As a prince he had garnered the trust of his people, stood his ground in his father’s court and showed them he was his own leader, and not just another carbon copy of the Stark rulers.

As their King, he was to fulfill that promise and duty to them by taking a spouse.

As a man, he was nervous. He didn't like the unexpected, and the marriage agreements had been carefully and meticulously planned out with Kamar-Taj’s representative by his most trusted advisor, Pepper. All he knew about his husband-to-be was, written on paper, his name - Stephen Strange, Prince of Kamar-Taj.

The foreign realm was known for its sorcerers and even if it was rare for a royal member to become well trained in the magical field, Strange had joined them as a well trained and skilled sorcerer.

Jarvis re-entered his chambers. "It is time," he announced what Tony already knew.

_____________

The pomp and ceremony was second nature to Tony. His father had drilled him on it early on. He was dressed in his finest garments, primped and preened within an inch of his life, and led ceremoniously along to the grand hall that was filled to the brim.

But he had a nervous knot in his stomach as he wondered about the man he was marrying, if they would get along and grow to love one another.

He kept his head up, eyes forward and inched his way along the aisle. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Pepper, standing and watching him proudly, a small smile on her face. Sir Rhodey looked grim, eyes full of knowing how difficult this was on a personal level for him. Tony was glad of their silent support and understanding as he came to a halt at the altar and waited.

A procession of trumpets began, before the anthem of Kamar-Taj filled the hall, played by his personally chosen musicians. He turned sideways to watch the next procession and stood straighter as the second half of the wedding party headed slowly towards him.

One by one they paused, bowed or curtsied before moving aside. He wished they'd hurry up and get on with it, his collar was beginning to itch. It was going to be a long day. The other attendees stood in their positions and then – for the first time – he got a glimpse of his new husband.

He was tall, dressed in exotic blue robes, marching to the beat with a set jaw, eyes front and center. Dark hair, blue eyes. Curious, Tony tried to read them, but they betrayed no emotion. Tony wasn’t intimidated by this and smiled warmly at him, still getting no reaction.

Stephen Strange was handsome, Tony couldn't deny that. He came to stand before him and bowed low, Tony gave a small bow in return before turning to the officiator who would carry out the marriage service. This was more the formal showing of them joining their royal courts; the marriage agreements that were the important part of the alliance, to be signed after the ceremony finished.

Strange would remain a prince for now, consort to the king. His coronation was planned after the duration of a year. That gave him enough time to become familiar with the realm he would rule by Tony’s side.

Tony was familiar with the ceremony, having been coached and taken through it over and over, because it would have been seen as a weakness and failing on his part to get the words wrong or miss his cue. He replied perfectly on cue, clear enough for his voice to echo throughout the grand hall, adding to the already delirious atmosphere of the crowd. The vows were pre-written and generic. They didn't know each other well enough to make it more personal.

Stephen was just as efficient as him. His voice not quite as loud but had an edge to it and Tony briefly wondered if he was displeased or just nervous. Tony watched him intently as he promised his vows, wondering how their lives would be from now on.

When it came to exchanging the rings, Stephen's hand seemed shaky and Tony gave him a squeeze of reassurance. The king got his ring first, a simple golden band with both their names engraved on the inside.

Stephen took off his glove to receive his own ring and Tony was surprised to see scars all over his skin. His eyes darted briefly up to Stephen, who had his gaze fixed stubbornly on their hands. His jaw was set, as if he expected a negative reaction. Well, Tony certainly wasn't going to give him one while all eyes were on them both. Besides, he didn't want to drag out the ceremony unnecessarily. He slid the ring on Stephen's finger, trying not to be too rough, and then looked to the officiant to finalize the marriage.

Stephen removed his hand from Tony’s and Tony noticed out of the corner of his eye that he was putting his glove back on. He didn't have time to comment, because the last words of the officiator were traditionally followed by a brief kiss.

It was mostly symbolic and felt a bit awkward. But it meant the ceremony was nearly over and they'd be able to escape for a moment before the short procession around the courtyards surrounding the castle started so his people could cheer them on their way back for the evening banquet.

Tony led the way to the small adjoining room where the papers would be signed, Stephen following, along with Pepper and Stephen's advisor, a man that Tony didn’t know the name of. He wore the typical robes of Kamar-Taj and had a stoic face. Tony didn’t pay him much attention.

There was little to do but sign their names, having already poured over the words and promises, fully aware what this meant for their kingdoms. Tony still felt a sting as he scrawled his name and took his signet ring from Pepper to stamp his seal by it. The alliance had proved to be a strong one, but he'd had to make some compromises he wasn't happy about. He stepped aside to allow Stephen to sign his own name on the documents.

There were several duplicates: two public, for Midgard and Kamar-Taj, to be displayed in the royal museums. Two private for their personal records to be stored in the royal historical records and one for them to personally keep.

Stephen set down the quill and the papers were checked over by an officiator under the watchful eyes of Pepper and Stoic Face.

Tony looked at his husband, who looked a little out of his depth, unable to meet his eye and practically ignoring him. Tony thought this should be an opportunity to get to know one another but found he was at a loss to attempt any small talk.

"Your Majesty," Pepper said, getting his attention, for once using his formal title. "Everything is in order. If you're ready we can begin the procession."

Tony nodded quickly, anything to get it over with. He walked to the door, Stephen falling to step beside him and they made their way out, side by side, Tony taking Stephen's hand as they faced the crowd. The court was on its feet and Tony paused, smiling over at the flower girls and giving a small toss of his head. They skipped forward just ahead of them, throwing rose petals and laughing delightedly as the people all bowed and curtsied their respect as they passed by. Tony kept a tight hold of Stephen's hand though it felt stiff in his own until they reached the outer doors that led to the courtyard beyond.

They were greeted with a cheering roar that caused his ears to ring. A sea of people came to celebrate the royal wedding.

The festivities took place in the ballroom. It was beautifully decorated with ribbons and lanterns and long tables that served food and drinks. As it was tradition, the celebration would last for a day and at night the king would whisk his husband away to his chambers.

Tony and Stephen sat at the head of one of the long tables and accepted congratulations and good wishes from all sides during the meal.

By now it was early evening and after the sparse breakfast in the morning and some of the excitement dying down, Tony's hunger was starting to kick in. Jarvis made sure that his plate was never empty.

Musicians played and various forms of entertainment were provided. Tony looked at his new husband from the side. Despite them sitting next to one another, they barely spoke a word to each other; instead they were caught up in conversations with the people beside them. With all the attention from the guests, Tony found it difficult to find the right words. Maybe for the first time in his life. What did you say to someone you just met, but with whom you would spend the rest of your life? And all this while being under constant observation from other people.

So he stuck to thanking the guests for their blessings.

And so it went on until night fell and more lanterns were lit. The hall was bathed in a warm light that gave everything a somewhat unreal and magical touch.

"I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to leave," Tony said at some point, not wishing to begin making any demands on him after only a few hours.

Stephen gave a curt nod and pushed his seat back as Tony did his. Tony said a few goodnights, well aware all eyes were on them as they left. He already knew what was on the court's mind as he led his new husband back to his quarters.

"These are our private chambers. I'll show you around tomorrow."

Opening the door Tony ushered Stephen inside, closing the door firmly behind them. Stephen took a few steps into the room and paused, turning to him and waiting. Tony could understand, this was their room now but nothing of it consisted of Stephen's possessions. They would all be unpacked in the next few days for him to arrange as he liked.

"There's been space made for your things in the wardrobe," Tony said, waving towards the large ornate cabinet. "Bathroom is through there."

"Don't I get my own chambers?" Stephen asked him and Tony turned with a look of surprise.

Stephen stared back at him, jaw set and waiting for an answer.

"I was just assuming," Tony began, suddenly unsure of himself. "I mean, we can arrange some rooms for you of course if you prefer. But these are private enough, no one but my personal servants and guards are allowed here."

"I'd prefer my own space," Stephen told him matter of factly with a small shake of his head. "Lets not pretend this marriage means more than it does. You wanted an alliance and you got it when I signed my name on those papers, and my parents had me taken off their hands."

Tony stared at him open mouthed, surprised and taken aback by the statement. "This marriage means more to me than a mere alliance, Stephen," he replied slowly and firmly.

Stephen rolled his eyes at him. "And what is it you're exactly expecting from me, Anthony?"

It was Tony's turn to roll his eyes, not expecting any of this conversation. He didn't feel ready for it, his head was swimming from the wine he'd drank and the long day he'd had. "It's Tony," he retorted. "And I was expecting a husband."

"You got one," Stephen told him. "At least on paper. I'm happy to do the public service with you to show the people unity but come on, let's not kid ourselves. You didn't want me and I certainly didn't want you."

"Have someone else in mind?" Tony replied dryly.

"No," Stephen shook his head. "But I'd have preferred to make my own decision on who I'm supposed to live the rest of my life with."

Tony snorted at the idea, it was preposterous and Stephen, as a prince, understood that well enough. Royalty didn't choose who they could marry.

"Welcome to the real world," Tony replied with a laugh. "Maybe you spent too much time with your magic and not enough figuring out just what life has set out for us. You know what this alliance will do for both our kingdoms, or do you consider yourself more important than your own people?"

Stephen glared at him and Tony knew the 'magic' remark had hit a nerve.

"Look, we're both tired, it's been a long day," Tony continued. He wasn't getting into this argument now, his brain was too addled. "We can arrange for new chambers tomorrow but right now, I'm going to bed. Feel free to join me or not, I'm not forcing you into anything here. All I suggest is that you stay in here tonight to at least put their minds at rest that we've 'consummated' this marriage."

Stephen seemed to agree, beginning to undress as Tony disappeared into the bathroom. He wasn't in there long, emerging to strip down himself and finding Stephen lingering, walking past him abruptly to use the bathroom himself. Tony undressed, happy to be rid of the uncomfortable layers, stiff collars and cuffs. He crawled into bed, unused to having to take a side but settling on the left. He turned on his side, back to the bathroom and turned out his light. Outside, in the courtyards below, celebrations were still underway for the marriage and he found that oddly ironic. There in the 'marriage suite' no such celebrations were occurring and instead he was finding out his husbands’ true thoughts on the matter.

Tony had been hoping for something more out of it, not just an alliance. Companionship. And more importantly someone he could lean on for support and help under the general strain and pressure he often felt as the ruler of his people. Instead he found Stephen saw this marriage as nothing but the alliance of their two nations. Of course Tony knew it had been wishful thinking.

He listened to the movement as Stephen emerged from the bathroom and he wondered if he was going to join him as the man seemed to pause in the room. Tony felt a moment of curiosity, wondered if he was naked, what he looked like under all those layers of clothing. The robes were beautiful, ornamented with golden brocade and jewelry. But they also hid the real him, though Tony wasn't sure he wanted to learn about the real man underneath when he'd shown such derision for their marriage.

Eventually the bed dipped beside him and a few moments later the light switched off.

Beside him his husband lay stiff and silent when instead he should have been writhing in pleasure over him. Or under him – he wasn’t picky. Tony hadn't even seen him naked, but if his body was as beautiful and handsome as his face, Tony knew he'd have little trouble becoming passionate with him.

It was just a shame about the emerging personality.

___________

Taglist: @goopierthenyou (text me if you want to be added/removed)