#he hates the town i cannot stress enough how much he hates this place and the people

[letsdontdie]

Lazarus is the town mortician and he actively does whatever he can to disrespect the whole Rest In Peace mindset

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

melda tâe, pray tell: what are the ojv!style/starsev's favorite foods? <3

HELLO MELMË!!! Oooo this is such a fun ask ilysm and I love any excuse to be Incredibly Annoying abt the OrangeJuiceVerse so YEP HERE WE GO!!!

Kyle- Kyle SO has a sweet tooth!!! (I love that that’s a universal Kyle hc btw) that boy is THERE for any baked goods deadass even those shitty gas station packaged muffins (Stan is scribbling out the nutritional information (or as he calls it, Food Lore, well into their 30s)) and Kyle def consumes anything sugary. As for actual real food, he likes Italian a lot which works very well bc pasta is a general hit w everyone. Favorite fast food place is subway and he ALWAYS rearranges the sandwich components to make sure the distribution is right (he claims he doesn’t have obsessive compulsive tendencies) (he does) so this guy is THE reason the ojv is called the ojv, his favorite beverage is orange juice with seven ice cubes and a pinch of salt bc he’s picky even when he claims to not be, he’s also a red wine enjoyer

STAN!!! Oh my god he and Cartman and Kenny are bottomless pits!!! Stan is a big boi and he’s packing away everything he eats bc 1) he hates waste, and 2) he’s just hungry. BUT he’s really more of a savory guy. Veggie king, ofc, and he’s at every fast food place in town ordering any vegetarian option, ALSO!!! This man LOVES spicy food but his stomach doesn’t. He’ll get a couple crunchwraps sub refried beans and slather that shit in Diablo sauce, but there’s a pretty good chance he’s gonna be nauseous a few hours later. Also he loves Kyle’s cooking!!! Bc Ky likes to cook when he’s stressed and Stan likes Kyle, and Kyle makes this really kickass homemade bread (jalapeño cheese bread oh my god I really want some now) Stan is also SO bad at drinking water but he is in fact a soda enjoyer. Miller Lite and the cheapest vodka known to man (before he stopped drinking) are a staple, also he frequents the local smoothie king and gets a chocolate hulk. For most of their life style has been ordering an olive and pineapple pizza. Stan always dips it in extra marinara.

Tweek- he is seriously just a snacker. Like Girl Dinner has nothing on Tweek Dinner. His meals look like a Charlie Brown thanksgiving. If he even remembers food is a thing. But like Craig will come home and be like “what do u want for dinner” and Tweek’s like “oh I ate a whole jar of pickles” the amount of half eaten granola bars in that house smh. BUT he can decimate so much garlic bread. A very big lemonade fan.

Craig! He’ll eat whatever, nonchalant KING unless!!!! He’s having a bad day and is already on the cusp of a meltdown. If he’s overstimulated it’s a sprite and an uncrustable. A grape uncrustable. Also I just feel like he likes seafood? I cannot explain why, but he does. Also he’s really good about hydration, he likes routine and he has one of those bottles w the time markers lmao. And he’s weirdly pretentious abt craft beers like when he and Kyle take their lil excursions to their spot he’s drinking an ipa that’s lowkey gross but then he’s just shrugging at Kyle and being all “idk the citrus hits in the aftertaste” like an asshole.

KENNY ok Kenny is also not picky in the slightest, how could he be with how he grew up, but I feel like he’s especially fond of easy meals like casseroles, frozen pizza, that kind of stuff. When he starts actually making a stable living off his art he hits up ALL the local food trucks and small businesses and broadens his food knowledge, and he’s keeping the smaller struggling businesses going just by his support. He is another example of ojv losers not drinking enough water, thinks Mountain Dew counts, literally he would’ve developed scurvy in college if left to his own devices. SMH ily kenneth also he and Stan have both thrown up bc they tried to one up each other doing shots of hot sauce

Marj my queen! She, like Kyle, likes sugar, if the homies are going to a diner she’s getting pancakes, and she takes her coffee ALL dressed up. Also kenny is the grillmaster and Marj is making the BEST sides for the bbq!!! Omg she loves her some pasta salad and a lil shrimp shishkabab moment like put this girl on the cover of a southern living magazine with her sweet iced tea (she makes the best sweet tea) marj my goddess pls quit causing problems on the internet and just use ur hospitality degree to run a b&b and make the best biscuits and gravy ever

Cartman. Bruh. Eric Cartman. He has THE most expensive taste known to man when he’s older but until he gets into the Rich People scene he doesn’t really care about what he’s eating or if it’s of good quality. In college he dragged the m5 to some shitty steakhouse bc he heard it was a good deal, and also bc he was mad at Stan for belting As Long As You’re Mine from Wicked and he knew Stan wouldn’t have any food options there lmfao that asshole (he did have to put a dollar in the Fuckwad Jar). He will also eat the weirdest combination of things. Who is putting whipped cream and chocolate syrup on fried chicken? This man. He is a Diet Coke enjoyer lmfao also he drinks martinis with olives bc “it makes me look sexy and kewl” he doesn’t like olives btw he’s just an asshole

I HAD TOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS!!! The ask is always open for ANY of my AU’s or if ur just bored or want fic recs I’m a huge loser and my sp obsession is ever ridiculous.

[mythalsknickers]

I hope op does not mine me jumping on. Justice was having a hard time coping with the world in Awakening. Anders who himself was a volatile personality to begin with offered his friend a body that was not dead. Anders prior to Justice was very much a rebel and rightfully so. But when someone who feels they have never felt Justice in a positive sense due to being harmed by the system. They are not the most safe environment for thier friend.

Add on top of this Anders and Justice did kill grey wardens after merging. From what I understand of the codex it was not something they willingly did but Anders felt the grey wardens were as much as a cage as the circle. Unfortunately Justice had started twisting before he merged with Anders and Anders long term anger accelerated that twisting from his purpose.

By the time they get to Kirkwall and Hawke meets them Anders is doing his best to aid Justice's purpose with a clinic in dark town and assisting or running the mage underground in Kirkwall. I stress this next part. Anders and Justice were friends this was not something unwilling or even done to gain more power. Anders wanted his friend safe.

Anders had no way of knowing what Kirkwall or his own anger would do to Justice. Safe spirit possession is not taught in circles and even if Anders was Alamarri he had been taken to a circle young enough that he did not understand the concepts fully.

Kirkwall is a dumpster fire in a pit of acid. Kirkwall had a lot of old blood magic that built that city and every day someone was getting possessed, abused by templars, sold to slavers and taken advantage of. Anders first love was made tranquil as an attempt to capture him. Justice snapping and taking control by act 2 was in alot of ways the only way he and Anders could survive. Anders was not in a place mentally to contemplate saving Justice. He wanted vengeance for Karl and for every mage hurt. It was easier to let Vengeance take control, it hurt less.

I will always hate the Anders romance. It was my first da2 mance and the manipulation and lying sucked. That being said Vengeance was also doing it for a mage Hawke and by act 3 he can't give Anders control they are both too far gone.

Compare this to Spite. For starters Spite is not "spiteful" they are a spirit of passion and determination in the body of someone who very much wants to live. Lucanis has the benefit of three mages who understand spirits on fundamental different levels, in addition with his own understanding of how spirits and demons work which not entirely in line with chantry doctrine. He has been to Rivian, in addition to having Taash's understanding of being raised in Rivain. The antivan crows have had magical inclined members and a mage tradition away from the chantry as well. Lucanis had a better toolkit even without the Veilguard for coping with Spite with the Veilguard it is clear to see why Spite is the equivalent of a neurotic house cat as opposed to Vegeance.

The one thing I think everyone forgets is Wynne from DAO was willingly possessed by a spirit of Faith and if you violate Wynne's conditions of faith in the temple of sacred ashes she will try to kill you. To protect the construct of her spirit.

Vengeance was a tragedy of Kirkwall that left even his friends unable to say if Anders was truly there.

You cannot compare the toolkits of any of them

i think it’s a little unfair to compare spite and justice’s ability to act normal against each other, or to act like spite just being a misbehaving cat diminishes how hard it was for anders justice to cope with possession. spirits in the material world get upset when they can’t fulfil the pure ideal they seek. spite is a creature of spite and gets to kill people trying to hurt it basically all the time. justice is a creature of justice and was living in fucking kirkwall

[hismercytomyjustice]

Omfggg I cannot believe my little BG3 fic is about to hit 70 subscribers!!! (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

It is wonderful and terrifying all at the same time haha!!! It’s also weirdly humbling knowing almost 70 people trust me and this story enough to want updates as it’s posted???

Thank fuck I’ve written most of it already because otherwise I would be STRESSING TF OUT.

I crossed the 75k word threshold the other day. The 75k maximum I thought I would probably hit seeing as I’ve never written much over like 50k before and that was only once in the fanfic world and 3x in the “this will likely never see the light of day” original work world haha.

PLEASE TELL ME HOW THE FUCK I STILL FOUR FULL CHAPTERS LEFT TO WRITE.

In the event you clicked to see more, just know you’re about to see a lot of rambling of mental health and writing.

I’m winding down chapter 14 now and chapter 18 is at least 50-75% done after I skipped to it in a panic due to the massive writers block I hit in 13 over hardcore stressing over my characterization of Cazador. Just “he is not being horrible enough, he needs to be more horrible, but not too horrible or this fic will need to be even longer and I’m already wildly out of my word count comfort zone” lol.

So that leaves the tail end of 14 and 18, and then I just have to write 15, 16, and 17.

Oh thank fuck. It’s only three I thought it was four full length ones left. Oh god. This simultaneously brings me relief and anxiety lmaooo.

Oh god.

But this fic is going to have such a special place in my heart because writing it has reminded me THAT I LOVE WRITING.

I’ve barely written in the last decade for a variety of reasons and tbh until I started writing this fic, I was starting to wonder if I really even enjoyed writing and wanted to do it anymore.

Not because I didn’t, but because the level of passion I used to have for it seemed to just be…missing? I kept thinking “it’s so weird how writing used to be such a huge part of my life and now I never seem to be able to do it or want to do it”.

I’ve come to realize in the last month or so, the biggest culprit was my previously semi-diagnosed OCD. Second biggest may have been my definitely undiagnosed ADHD.

Any time I’d try to sit down to plot or draft or anything I would get into OCD spirals and either completely talk myself out of it or get into it for a little bit and then hit a roadblock in the story I couldn’t get past or convince myself what I wrote was awful and no one would ever want to read it because I would get bored writing it so why the hell would anyone want to read it? So then I’d convince myself I needed to read up on the craft of writing to make up for my deficiencies. And the more I learned the more I realized I didn’t know or the more deficiencies I saw and the more I’d get into my own head.

I spent some much time kind of wishing I hadn’t read so many books, went to so many convention panels, listened to so many podcasts about writing, etc. Because any time I looked at a blank page, I couldn’t get out of my own head enough to fucking WRITE.

Just an endless stream of: The first line is super important and has to hook the reader, make sure you start in the middle of the story, your protagonist should have xyz, your villain should have abc, every sentence should do more than one thing, if you don’t regularly make time to write you’re not a real writer, all these other people make time to write and their lives are way busier than yours so what’s wrong with you, you must hate writing otherwise you’d actually do it, you’ll never get anything published because you lack discipline, etc etc etc.

I just desperately wanted to go back to the days where I could just flip open a blank notebook and go to town without giving a shit about what anyone else thought a story had to be and without second guessing every single letter I put on the page.

And then such a weird combo of stars aligned that finally made me remember why I fucking love writing and why I do it in the first place???

Consuming media that makes me passionate about storytelling and reawakens my creative drive.

My friend offhandedly mentioning she writes on her phone sometimes and isn’t a phone kind of like a little notebook you can carry around and whip out whenever? Bonus, you don’t have to retype everything after writing by hand!

Getting officially officially diagnosed with OCD. Third therapist’s is a charm amirite? If I had a nickel for every therapist who told me I was exhibiting signs of OCD I’d have three nickels… I didn’t even go to my current therapist for OCD. My former therapist suggested finding a specialist in exposure therapy to help with an unrelated phobia (I will not go into on here and probably never will because it’s deeply personal) and the specialist I found happens to specialize in OCD because exposure therapy is often used to treat it.

And my current therapist taught me what OCD thought spirals are, how they start up, how they take root, how they get out of control. Suddenly it wasn’t just “oh, I have anxiety so I need to use decision techniques to combat it” it was “ohhh this is therapy designed with my brain in mind and my brain isn’t as weird or scary as I thought.” It’s just wild to spend decades of your life thinking your brain is fucked up and you don’t understand what’s wrong with it so how could anyone but then you get a literal fucking worksheet that maps out an example spiral with a note on it that reads “this you?”.

Specifically, she taught me about Inference-based Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (ICBT). If anyone reads this and is curious about ICBT. this article does a pretty good job of explaining it.

It was just wild to look at this piece of paper that was like “oh, no, this is a regular/common enough brain thing that we’ve done research on it and made a fun little worksheet for it” that makes it all feel so weirdly mundane and less scary as a result? Like decades of “I’m scared of my own brain” turned into “your brain isn’t scary, there’s a clear pattern to this kind of thing and lots of people go through it”.

And then I decided to take piano lessons. Because I started writing a POTO AU before I started my BG3 fic and I remembered how much I loved music in the same way. How much I enjoy the violin but struggle to get myself to play now that I’m not part of an ensemble. And that was another thing I haven’t found much joy in lately either.

And my OCD went off the fucking RAILS with that. Because of all my insecurities around being someone who always struggled to practice regularly and realizing how much of a refresher I needed on music in general after so much time away. Leaving lessons wanting to cry because of how fucking stupid an inept I felt and being utterly convinced I was wasting my teacher’s time.

BUT. Because of ICBT and my therapist, I could see I was hardcore OCD spiraling. It marginally helped because at least part of me was like “okay, these feelings aren’t the truth and they are irrational” even as I still struggled to find any actual self-compassion over it all. Because why the fuck is wrong with me it’s piano, I am paying for lessons, I do not have to be perfect. My therapist insisted my only obligation was to just show up for the lessons and SHE IS RIGHT. Like, yeah, it’s great to practice and I want to get better at it, but OCD-ing myself to the point I’m fucking miserable and never practice (much like I did with writing) is not the answer.

Piano made me realize my OCD impacts my day-to-day life in a variety. Not just my 10/10 OCD spirals/fears.

Do I still struggle with how fucking ridiculous getting worked up over voluntarily taking piano lessons made me feel? 10000%. Am I actually enjoying and looking forward to my lessons and actually practicing because I want to instead of feeling paralyzed or over analyzing or avoiding or forcing myself to? Also 10000% true!!! It’s fucking wild how much you can enjoy things you like when your OCD SHUTS THE FUCK UP FOR FIVE GODDAMN SECONDS.

Like obvs I still have a lot of work to do on the OCD front, but I’ve made so much fucking progress over the past few months. It feels like night and day sometimes. If you’d told me like 6 months ago I’d have written 75k on one fanfic in addition more on others, I would have laughed on your face and then doom spiraled about it.

God I have missed actually ENJOYING things. My therapist was not exaggerating when she talked about me having a breakthrough last session about overcompensating and how it negatively has impacted myself and my fledgling self-compassion.

It feels so fucking GOOD.

Navigating OCD and ADHD, especially as a late diagnosed person isn’t easy. I’m still learning so much and also puzzling out what does and doesn’t work for me. But for the first time in such a long time, I feel like I’m actually making progress on those fronts and it is such a fucking relief after borderline hating myself for years now.

This got wildly out of hand, but OH WELL. I’m just so fucking happy and relieved to be seeing some progress for myself that I was starting to worry might never fucking happen.

[obabyobeymeme]

Resting with the Boys[TM]

summary: what i think falling asleep with them around would be like. that- that’s it, that’s the post note: yayayayy first post! this has been in my notes app for a Long time, so.. buckle up, this is going to be kinda long no matter what i do, thoughts went brrrrrr, sorry lmao.

Lucifer ➛ Good luck getting a moment alone with him. With all the work he has assigned by Diavolo, the time he spends cleaning up after his brothers’ shenanigans, and his duties as the eldest, it seems like he never has free time. ➛ When you do catch him alone, he’s either not in the mood for any sort of interaction or he’s taken the liberty of passing out at his desk, pen still in hand as he rests. ➛ You aren’t doing so well yourself, being a human exchange student doesn’t mean R.A.D. will go easy on you. Classes, assignments, and sometimes even just having to deal with the rest of the student body can be pretty tiring. ➛ Your patience pays off when the day finally comes that he’s mostly free of duties and your assigned tasks at the moment are all finished as well.

➛ You two don’t really do much, you spend the time talking over hot beverages and enjoying each other’s company in his office. Just having you around and not causing a ruckus is already more than enough for him. ➛ Lucifer ends up going on a halfhearted rant about his brothers as he organizes some papers next to you. How he found out about another one Satan and Belphie’s plots to inconvenience him and how he’ll turn it against them, wondering how the house hasn’t been decimated while he went on business trips sometimes... It’s nice seeing him not as uptight as he usually is. ➛ You end up getting a little drowsy despite your best attempts to listen to what he’s saying. Eventually your drowsiness wins over and you kinda.. nod off. Hopefully he doesn’t mind. (He does mind, actually. Sleeping sitting down may sound like a good idea at first, but Lucifer knows your neck will hate you for it when you wake up.) ➛ He doesn’t want to wake you, so he carefully nudges your head onto his lap before finishing up with the papers, occasionally running his hand through your hair. ➛ Once he’s done, he carries you to your room and makes sure you’re comfortable before leaving a kiss on your forehead and leaving, closing the door softly behind him.

Mammon ➛ When you suggest a lazy afternoon to him, he’ll act as if he has no time for a silly activity like that. Why would he? The Great Mammon has better things to do with his time than spending it lazing around with some- ➛ He trails off once he sees your slightly disappointed face. When you say you’ll find someone else to nap with, he changes his tune almost instantly. ➛ He just.. takes your wrist and goes “W-well, if ya want it THAT badly... but just this once, got it??” as he sorta tugs you along to his bedroom. ➛ This is where you learn that he has no idea how to share a bed with someone else. He seems torn between wanting to scoot closer or give you as much space he can without actually leaving the bed. ➛ You decide to make the decision for him, resting your head on his shoulder as you start rambling. Mammon warms up eventually and slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you a bit closer. ➛ You drift off during a lull in the conversation, unintentionally leaving him hanging for a full minute before he realizes you’re asleep. ➛ He watches you for a while and makes sure you’re really out, then reaches for his phone and takes a picture (or five) of your sleeping face. What? You’re cute even when you sleep apparently! He’d rather go through one of Lucifer’s scoldings than admit that to your face in the near future though. ➛ You know that meme where people say they can't do anything because a cat fell asleep on them? Yeah, that happened to Mammon because of the arm he placed around you, he ended up falling asleep with you wrapped in his arms. ➛ When you wake up, you cannot move without his grip getting just a bit tighter. Greedy even in his sleep, it seems... rip if you have to go to the bathroom lmao

Leviathan ➛ You two spent pretty much the whole day in his room, geeking out over shared interests, catching up on anime Levi introduced to you, trying (and occasionally failing) at the games you both play ➛ You don’t even notice it’s well past 1 AM until you feel like you’ve been staring at a screen for an awful long time now, what time is- oh. ➛ Levi’s slightly disappointed that your hangout has to end, but yeah, he gets it. Everyone needs their sleep, even hardcore otakus. He’s about to tell you that you can leave when you flop into his bathtub bed, saying you’re too tired to walk all the way back. ➛ He short-circuits at the sight of you wrapping yourself around one of the many body-sized pillows, and when you realize he still has to get in the tub to sleep? And instead of getting out, you sit up and insist on him getting in with you??? ➛ A system error has occurred. Please restart your Leviathan. Come on, this is like that one scene in this shoujo anime he’s found where the main character and the person they’re pining for share a bed! ➛ He doesn’t say anything, but judging by the expression he’s making and how he’s clambering in behind you, you don’t think he minds too much. ➛ You two end up with his upper body propped up by the pillows and you kinda laying on top of him. It's a bit awkward considering the unconventional sleeping area, but it’s honestly more comfortable than you expected. ➛ Levi actually ends up falling asleep before you. You thought you were tired? Try being awake for 22 hours straight waiting for an exclusive merch drop you just couldn’t miss. He is out, and nothing you do can wake him. ➛ You both end up waking around noon thanks to your little late night stunt. Consider yourselves lucky that Satan saved you guys a plate before Beel got to it.

Satan ➛ He finds you in the House’s library, bent over at a table studying three textbooks at once. Understandable, given that it’s exam season, but it doesn’t look like you’re doing yourself any favors. ➛ And he’s right. You can’t make sense of anything in the books and you can feel a small headache coming on ➛ Satan offers to give you some help with your studies... after you’ve rested. He won’t take no for an answer, and since his room is much closer, he thinks it’s fine if you crash there while you take a break. ➛ He just has to... actually make space for you to rest first, though. He can navigate the chaos that is his room just fine, but you could easily trip on something, or worse, accidentally activate something cursed. ➛ Once that’s taken care of, you take a seat on his bed, scrolling through your D.D.D. as he takes one of the chairs, picking up a novel he bookmarked.  ➛ The scent of the books and the occasional sound of a page turning as Satan reads, along with his occasional hums of interest really helped put you at ease. After a couple of moments, despite yourself, you curl up and drift off. ➛ In between page turns, Satan would turn to check on you. When he realizes you’re asleep, he marks his novel and sets it down, turning to face you instead.  Since he knows his room can get a bit drafty sometimes, he drapes a blanket over you, smiling softly as you wrap the blanket more around yourself. ➛ You looking so cozy almost makes him want to join you, but just seeing that you’re comfy and much less stressed than before is enough right now. He instead gives you a head pat and goes back to his novel, the smile never quite leaving his face.

Asmodeus ➛ You know Asmo loves spending time together, from shopping trips to going to new places to even simple things like a tea spilling session every other night. ➛ So when you come to his room one evening to tell him sorry, you don’t really feel like a night on the town right now and would rather stay in and recharge, he’s not even as disappointed as you’d thought he’d be. ➛ He insists on pampering you both tonight, that way, you get to rest and relax with him, and he gets you all to himself for at least a couple of hours, uninterrupted. It’s a win-win scenario, in his opinion, and who are you to decline? ➛ You let him work his magic with whatever he has laying around, falling into your usual routine of talking as he does his and your nails and readies a face mask for the two of you as ambient music from his D.D.D. fills the air. ➛ When you find yourself getting sleepy, Asmo doesn’t mind at all! He puts away the stuff he used and suggests a little impromptu sleepover. ➛ You shouldn’t have been that surprised when he climbs into the bed after you, and you should’ve realized he’d be just as clingy in bed as he is normally. He can and will be all over you if you let him— running his fingers through your hair, cuddles like there’s no tomorrow...  ➛ His ridiculously soft and comfy bed definitely isn’t helping matters, and you drift off in record time. ➛ He’ll make sure you’re all tucked in and maybe internally squeal at how adorable you’re being, leaning into his touch in your sleep makes his heart do a flip ➛ You wake up the next day feeling like a new person, and next to you, looking surprisingly photogenic for someone half-asleep, is Asmo, tugging you back under the covers because it’s warmer with you in there. 

Beelzebub ➛ He’s been waiting at R.A.D.’s entrance for 20 minutes now. You were supposed to meet him so you could head to Hell’s Kitchen and hang out for a bit, but there’s still no sign of you and you haven’t read any of his texts. ➛ He gets a text from you then. Turns out your phone was on silent, because you felt a little burnt out from school and juggling hangout times with everyone else and went straight back to the House, wanting some quiet time. ➛ You send another message apologizing for the sudden change of plans and for not seeing his messages sooner, but Beel is pretty understanding. ➛ He isn’t letting his chance at being with you go that easily, though. He drops by a store to get you a little care package (and a handful of snacks so he still has something to give you by the time he gets to the house) and heads home. ➛ A few moments later, your door opens to reveal Beel. He leaves the food he brought on your table and sits down on the edge of your bed. You decide a cuddle buddy doesn’t sound too bad right now. After all, you already had the experience of sharing a room with Beel, surely sharing a bed will be similar? ➛ ... Not exactly. He’ll unintentionally take up half your bed no matter what you two do; you’ll either be searching for space or be pulled into the space he’s occupying like some sort of demon-shaped black hole. ➛ The solution: lay on his chest. He assures you that you aren’t too heavy for him, and if he’s being honest? Your weight is actually kinda comforting. ➛ You stay like that for a while, listening to his breathing and heartbeat, and eventually the stress of the past few days melts away, and you fall asleep with your arms draped over him like a pillow. ➛ He doesn’t mind, since you’re pretty much a living teddy bear to him, and he lets himself relax, a hand resting on your back. He just hopes his stomach won’t wake you both up...

Belphegor ➛ Let me get this straight. You want Belphegor, the literal Avatar of Sloth, to take a nap with you? Chances are he’s already half-asleep and all that’s left to do is join him... if he lets you. ➛ He’ll look at you, slightly irritated, but he’s too tired to argue, and you’d be warmer than a pillow, at least, so he motions for you to get in next to him. Just don’t move around too much or he’ll hog all the blankets in retaliation. ➛ If you’re close enough with him, either one of you has unspoken permission to join the other while they’re resting, no questions asked.  ➛ Probably has a bunch of pillows and blankets stowed away in various parts of the House, so nap supplies are readily available. Saves him from having to drag his stuff from place to place. ➛ The one downside to sleeping with Belphie is that he doesn’t need any time to unwind. He can go from full attention to catching Zs in minutes, leaving you no choice but to follow him into dreamland. ➛ He does cuddle a lot, though he’ll brush it off as using you as his personal heater. He’ll complain if you try to do it first, but he won’t make any moves to actually stop you. He actually might lean into you, making up an excuse about your side being comfier. ➛ If he really, really trusts you, he’ll lend you his beloved cow-print pillow. Only five minutes tops, though, then you have to give it back. ➛  When nights are bad and he doesn’t want to wake Beel up, he used to head to the planetarium to calm himself down. Now he slips into your room and takes comfort in knowing that you’re still safe and sound. You’ve woken up several times finding Belphie nuzzled into your blanket. ➛ If he feels especially clingy, his demon form’s tail will appear, slowly but firmly wrapping itself around your waist. Good luck getting out of bed without him knowing.

[sunrisefairy]

Last chances

Pairing: George Weasley x reader Warning: Alcohol, swearing, angst (but worth it i promise) Summary: Y/N is getting married. To someone that isn’t George. 

A/N: this was written for @inglourious-imagines​​ 1K writing challenge (i just realised i didnt tell you before hand what prompts i was gonna do so i hope thats okay) based off the prompts ‘you need to leave’ and ‘d-did you just k-kiss me?’

Taglist: @hufflepuff5972​ @inglourious-imagines​ @klausdatprettyboi​ @georgeweasleyswhre​ @horrorxweasley​ @amourtentiaa​ send me an ask if you would like to be added

———————————————————————————————————

George felt all the air being sucked out of his lungs as he read over the golden cursive words printed onto the crisp white paper. He could feel Fred’s pitiful stare burning holes into the side of his head, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the paper in his grasp. George’s brain was overflowing with thoughts, but his head was empty at the same time, as if every time he reached out his thoughts were dissolving into liquid and slipping through his fingers.

By the time George managed to make eye contact with Fred, his eyes were red and burning with tears, the only thought he could wrap his fingers around was the one which was destroying him the most, “she’s getting married?”

~~~

The sun was beating down harshly making the sand feel like tiny grains of lava, but George didn’t care. It was the middle of summer and the Weasley family had invited the Y/L/N’s to the beach. John and Nancy Y/L/N had been very good friends with Molly and Arthur Weasley for many years having met during high school. But soon after graduation John and Nancy got married and decided to travel the world which they had done for a few years before having their daughter Y/N. They moved around a lot while Y/N was a baby, still wanting to explore and see what the world had to offer. But now, Y/N was 7 and they decided it would do her and themselves some good to settle down somewhere, plant some roots so to speak. Which is how they ended back in the small town John and Nancy grew up in, the one where the Weasleys were still living.

Giving that it was summer, and the weather was reaching high temperatures the Weasley family decided to spend the day at the beach so the children could kill some energy and excitedly invited their old friends, John and Nancy to catch up.

George was particularly thrilled not only because he loved days at the beach playing with his siblings and making sandcastles just to pretend he was a giant and stomp on them, but he couldn’t wait to meet Y/N. His parents had told him and Fred that Y/N was their age and although Fred wasn’t very interested in playing with a girl and would much rather prank Ron, George had a good feeling about Y/N.

George had just finished constructing a sandcastle he named ‘Castle Weasley’ and was about to jump on it when his mum calls for him. He drags his bare feet through the hot sand over to his parents who are chatting with 2 people he doesn’t recognise.

“Fred, George this is John and Nancy, and this is their little girl Y/N.” Molly gestures to the timid girl hiding behind her mum’s leg.

Reluctantly Y/N moves from her previous hiding spot and stares doe eyes up at the twins in front of her. George’s mouth is dry and his palms are clammy, but he doesn’t think it’s from the blistering heat. George Weasley is staring at the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

~~~

It’s been 3 weeks since Y/N’s wedding invitation arrived in the mail and George had shoved it under a pile of bills he was also planning to ignore. Although he doesn’t need to see the invitations to remember the words which were written on the paper ‘kindly join us for the wedding of Y/N L/N and William Chapman. Saturday the seventeenth of April at 11 o’clock.’

It was the 10th of April today, just 7 days till Y/N’s wedding. George felt bile rising in the back of his throat every time he thinks about Y/N marrying someone which wasn’t himself. George has had a crush on the girl ever since he first met her that day on the beach. Back then he only ever saw it as a silly little crush which he hoped he’d eventually get over. But years went on and his crush only grew and grew until it was suffocating. When they reached high school, George planned to tell Y/N about his feelings but chickened out each time, scared of ruining their friendship.

To be honest George always felt (maybe he just hoped) that him and Y/N were meant for each other and sooner or later they’d be together. He held tightly onto this when Y/N started dating William. George was optimistic that William and Y/N’s relationship wasn’t serious and eventually they’d break up and George could finally confess his feelings. All of that went down the drain the second George open up that stupid envelope.

“I ran into Y/N today. At the store,” Fred says carefully trying to gage his brother’s reaction to her name. George just offers a grunt in response, eye staring blankly at the tv in front of him. “she asked about you, wants to know if you’re going to the wedding since she hasn’t heard anything from you.”

George doesn’t reply. Fred just sighs, ”c’mon mate. You’re really not going to go? It’s Y/N we’re talking about here. She’s your best mate.”

George racks his ringers through his already messy hair, squeezing his eyes closed. “That’s exactly why I can’t go. It’s Y/N. How can I sit there and watch Y/N marry some other guy and pretend I’m okay with it?” George feels tears threatening to fall down his cheeks, it’s a wonder he has any tears left to cry.

Fred moves closer to George on the couch, wrapping his arm around his twin who chokes out a sob, “I know buddy, I know it fucking hurts.”

~~~

Since graduating high school George and Y/N made it tradition to catch up once a week if not more so they wouldn’t lose touch. But their newfound busy lives with university and work meant they hadn’t seen each other for a month. They finally found a day that they were both free and decided to meet up for coffee. George had paid for Y/N’s latte while she found them a table by the window. He set their drinks down admiring how beautiful Y/N looked, she was practically glowing.

“So, Y/N what’s new with you? I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you,” George takes a long sip of his coffee.

George knows Y/N must have some important news for him, judging solely off the smile that she’s failing to conceal. “Well, if you must know. I met someone.”

The colour drains from George’s face and he coughs trying to regain his composure. “Like a boy?”

“Yes a boy silly, his name is William and I met him at the library. It was actually really funny I was turning down one of the aisles and he” George drowns out Y/N’s voice, he can hear his heart thumping in his chest, threatening to jump out.

George knows, he knows it’s his own fault for not telling Y/N how he feels sooner. He knows he doesn’t have anyone else to blame but himself, but it doesn’t make this hurt any less. Sweet, kind Y/N, who had gently cradled George’s heart unknowingly since they were 7, has squeezed it between her slender fingers like a stress ball.

“George?” Y/N words break him from his trance.

“That sounds amazing Y/N, I’m really happy for you.”

~~~

It’s Monday and Y/N has been trying to contact George for days with no luck. She ran into Fred last Saturday who said George has just been super busy with work, she didn’t believe it one bit, she needed to find out why George has been ignoring her.

She pushes the store door open and the bell above chimes announcing her arrival.

“Sorry we’re closed for the day!” a voice travels through the store before it’s owner exits the storeroom to see who the culprit is, who clearly cannot read the ‘closed’ sign hanging on the door.

George’s eyes land on Y/N who is standing by the front door unmoving and twiddling with her fingers, playing with an engagement ring that seems out of place on her left hand. “What are you doing here?”

Y/N steps closer, not noticing the way George takes a small step back, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

George doesn’t speak, he’s certain that his voice would be unsteady if he did. Y/N hates the silence, so speaks again, “I’m getting married you know, on Saturday.”

George sucks in a breath, turning his back to fix one of the displays. “Yeah, congratulations,” he mumbles.

“I didn’t know if you got the invitation or not, kind of expected you to call.” Y/N shoves her hands into the pockets of her jeans, moving so she is standing beside George who is avoiding her gaze. “What’s the matter Georgie?”

George shakes his head, “kind of fast isn’t it? Why the rush to get married to that twat?”

Y/N rolls her eyes, ever since George met William, he made it very clear he didn’t like the bloke. “George stop it. He proposed and I said yes. We figured why wait to start our lives together, y’know? So on Saturday I thought that-“

“-I’m not going.” George’s words felt like a hot knife to Y/N’s chest. When George finally mets her gaze he continues, “I’m not going to the wedding Y/N.”

“Why?”

“Because! Because William is a prick and doesn’t deserve you. I can’t sit there and watch you marry some idiot.” George knows his voice is getting louder and that his hands are flailing around but he doesn’t care. “He’s an absolute tosser! You deserve better than William.” You deserve me.

“William has done nothing but love me, George.” The thought of George not being there at her wedding breaks her heart. George was her best friend; how could she not have her best friend at the wedding. “Are you really not going to be there for me?” Y/N’s voice is quiet and timid.

It shatters George to see her so upset and the next words almost kill him.

“No, I won’t be there.”

~~~

Click.

Click.

Click.

“Okay mum that’s enough photos now!” Y/N giggles trying to hide her face behind her hands.

“Just one more please! George put your arm around her this time.” Nancy says holding the camera up to her face.

George wraps his arm around Y/N waist pulling her closer to him very aware of the way Y/N leans into his side. It’s the night on the school dance and somehow he had gathered enough courage to ask Y/N to go with him, she agreed of course and now they were standing out the front of Y/N’s house in front of the rose bushes while Y/N and George’s parents took photos.

“Okay now one with the four of you together,” Molly says pushing Fred and his date over to the rose bush. The four of them stood together smiling at all the flashing cameras which almost blinded them.

Molly wipes a tear that slips down her cheek, she always got emotional during things like this, “I cannot believe my little babies are growing up. 16 and going to a school dance with their gorgeous dates.”

“Right mum that’s enough, we’re gonna be late,” George groans although he didn’t mind having his arm around Y/N’s middle.

Molly nods agreeing, “right fine! Don’t want to keep you from your dance, have fun!”

Arthur drops the 4 of them off at the school hall reminding them he’d be back at 12 to pick them up.

All 4 of them spend most of the night dancing together and laughing at Fred’s questionable dance moves. Soon the upbeat song comes to an end and a much slowly one started playing. Immediately Fred extends a hand to his date, “m’lady. Care to dance?”

George turns his body to face Y/N who is gazing up at his tall frame, he gulps “Y/N do you wanna dance with me?”

The smile that spreads across her face could light up the room, “yes please.”

For the remainder of the night George and Y/N sway slowly to the music, Y/N moves closer to George until her head is resting against his chest and his arms find their place on her hips.

Y/N can hear George humming to the music above her and she smiles giving his shoulders a small squeeze, then whispers so quietly she’s worried George doesn’t hear her. “I hope we are always best friends Georgie.”

“I promise we will be love.”

~~~

Friday night and George hasn’t spoken to Y/N since she visited the shop. He’s ignored her phone calls and text messages; she came into the shop again on Wednesday, but George locked himself in the backroom telling Fred he had to do stocktake.

George could feel himself falling apart, Y/N was upset with him, Fred was annoyed at his childish behaviour. George felt himself fall deeper and deeper as his heartache and sorrow grew stronger every time he remembered Y/N’s engagement. The only thing which seems to numb his feelings was the alcohol.

At this point George wasn’t sure how much he had had to drink, but the buzz running through his system was better than the bitterness he was feeling before. It had just hit 11:30pm at night and he had finished the last of the tequila from the bottle. With no alcohol to distract his brain his eyes drift over the numerous photo frames he has hanging on the living room wall. His eyes stop at one photo in particular, it’s of him and Y/N from the day at the beach when they were 7. Despite it being the first time the two had met, they looked like they’d known each other since birth. Y/N had been very shy when she was introduced to the twins, but George quickly made her feel comfortable and the day was spent with lots of laughter and smiles. In the photo George and Y/N are stood side by side on the sand, grinning up at the camera. They had just made a huge sandcastle village and were very proud to show off their creation. George’s eyes wander down the photograph to their hands which are tightly intertwined. He bites his lip before stumbling out the front door.

~~~

“Do you ever think about getting married Georgie?” Y/N questions, she’s lying beside George outside on the grass, staring up at the clouds moving above them. They did this a lot, gazing at the sky trying to find the funniest shapes in the clouds.

George is only 12 but he knows exactly who he wants to marry, not that he will admit that.

“No, not really.” George tries not to freak out when he feels Y/N’s hand intertwine with his own, “do you?”

Y/N nods, “yep, I want to marry someone who is funny and will let me eat ice cream for dinner.” She giggles and it makes George’s heart soar, it the 5 years of knowing Y/N it had quickly become George’s favourite sound.

He turns his head to face Y/N, she’s still looking up at the sky, there’s a faint smile on her lips.

“I’m funny.” George isn’t sure what he’s insinuating.

Y/N turns to face him, “you are. Would you let me eat ice cream for dinner?” he nods eagerly.

Y/N purses her lips before smiling, “well then Georgie, maybe I’ll marry you.”

George can only hope that’s true.

~~~

George’s fist hammers against the wooden door. It knows it late and there’s a chance William will answer instead of Y/N but in this moment he doesn’t care. “C’mon Y/N open up! It’s me George.”

The door swings open and Y/N is standing on the other side in a fluffy dressing gown wrapped snuggly around her body rubbing her eyes. “George what the hell are you doing here?” There’s a trace of annoying on her voice, mostly because he’d woken her up but also because she’s been trying to talk to him all week and he decides to show up at her house at midnight the night before her wedding.

“I-um,” George stammers, his words getting stuck in this throat. He has spent practically his whole life wanting to tell Y/N he loves her but never being able to find the words, this time was no exception. So, in George’s alcohol fuelled mind he decides if he can’t use words then actions are the next best thing.

Y/N is staring blanking at the redhead on her porch, eager to know the reason why he’s standing in front of her after ignoring her all week. George timidly steps closer towards Y/N before resting his hands on her cheeks and pressing their lips together roughly.

Y/N is stood frozen on the spot until her hands reach up to rest on George’s chest. She can taste the strong alcohol on Georges mouth, and she’s pulled back to reality and pushing him away. “D-did you just k-kiss me?”

George nods.

Y/N is filled with anger and it starts to bubble up inside of her. “What the fuck George? You’ve been ignoring me all week not answering my calls or texts and-and then you just come here drunk and do that? You can’t come here the night before my wedding and kiss me. It’s not fair!”

George’s shoulders slump, “I’m sorry, I just had to say- that I…” he pauses again, his eyes scanning over Y/N’s face hoping somehow she’s learnt how to mind read.

“What? You had to say what George?” Y/N is aware that she’s yelling but she can’t bring herself to care.

“That I love you.”

Y/N doesn’t speak her brain is running a hundred miles a minute. The silence is unpleasant and unbearable, George looking into Y/N’s eyes trying to read her expression.

“You need to leave,” Y/N utters, her face unmoving.

It’s like George’s feet are glued to the ground, he’s brain is screaming at him to move but he can’t.

“You need to leave George.” Y/N’s voice is firmer this time, “I’m getting married tomorrow and you need to leave right now.”

~~~

George Weasley is an idiot. No, he’s more than an idiot, George Weasley is a dickhead, plain and simple.

He hadn’t been able to fall asleep when he got home, he kept replaying the night over and over. Every time he closed his eyes, he was met with Y/N staring back at him. Except she’s staring with so much disgust it makes George feel sick, he can still hear Y/N’s voice telling him to leave. George Weasley not only managed to lose the life of his life in one night but also his best friend. He feels like a dickhead.

George glances over at the clock next to his bed. 10:30 am. Y/N is getting married in 30 minutes. His chest pains, he thinks he might throw up.

George staggers out of bed and towards the kitchen, he needs water. His journey is interrupted by a harsh knock from the front door. He sighs, he knew Fred would come around to try and convince him to go to the wedding. George figures he couldn’t go to the wedding even if he wanted to, sure that his invitation was no longer valid after last night.

“Fred, seriously I’m not going,” George flings open the door and he almost passes out.

Y/N was standing there looking like an angel, he thinks maybe he died from alcohol poisoning and was actually in heaven. Y/N’s hair was laying loosely across her shoulders, she was wearing a breathtaking white gown which hugged her body perfectly.

George mouth is gaping open his voice coming out breathless and in a whisper, “what-what are you doing here?” He’s half expecting Y/N to slap him across the face for his antics last night.

“I couldn’t do it,” Y/N also whispers, as if this is a secret conversation, only meant for the two of them.

“Why?” George squeaks.

“Because I love you.”

Y/N steps closer and drapes her arms around George’s neck pulling him closer so their foreheads are resting against each other.

As soon as she woke up this morning Y/N felt ill. It wasn’t until she was standing in her wedding dress by the church did she realise why she felt sick. It was because the man that was waiting for her inside the church wasn’t George. Her mum sensed her daughters doubts and offered a comforting hand on her shoulder, “darling, you tell me right now if you want out. I’ll get a car, I’ll sort out this whole thing, you won’t have to worry about a thing.”

Without thinking Y/N had responded, “I want out mum.” That lead to Y/N zooming away in her dad’s car straight for George’s place.

Y/N gazes into George’s warm and gentle eyes, she felt home, “I love you even though you’re an idiot who waited to tell me you loved me till the night before my wedding to someone else.”

George chuckles, “yeah I guess I am but I’m your idiot.”

[therenlover]

can we get some modern hux as a boyfriend headcanons

You know what? Yes, you can anon! (I need to put down some inspo for a requested fic anyway, so here goes nothing!)

Modern! AU Armitage Hux Boyfriend Headcanons

18+ headcanons will be marked with a line towards the end!

WARNINGS: Mentions of childhood abuse (aka Brendol Hux’s A+ Parenting)

First of all, Armitage works somewhere pretty high profile. I like to lean towards it being a pretty generic big office where they do nondescript business things and make lots of money, but I’ve considered that he’d be great working at a law firm too.

He’s also a workaholic

This means he’s busy like... always. 

You want to grab lunch? Sorry, there's a huge meeting with the higher-ups that day and he needs to get a raise before Pryde does. You want to take a weekend trip? Well too bad because a big case is coming up and he needs to be in the office until 8pm every day.

That being said, if you ever brought it up to him that he spent more time pulling extra hours at the office than with you, he would be more than a little mortified and do his best to try to balance things a little more evenly, even if it meant losing a promotion to Ben “Nepotism” Solo because losing you would be so much worse. 

Speaking of which, you’d also have to get to know his only 3 friends- his bestie Phasma, his work frenemy Ben, and his assistant Mitaka- pretty well because they tend to show up uninvited at random times.

A lot of the time you spend together with ‘Tidge (his nickname, because he hates it less than Armie and saying Armitage 20 times a day can be a real mouthful) is at his big-ass apartment. Date nights on the town are lovely every once in a while, but Hux doesn’t exactly know how to act like a normal person in public,

Before moving in with him, you’d just drop by after work every day and spend some time with Millicent while waiting for him to get home. Once you do live there you’d pretty much do the exact same only in your pajamas. 

He likes to know that, once he gets home from the insane stress of work, his two favorite things are sitting there waiting for him. 

Hux outside the privacy of his own home is, to put it kindly, a man who constantly acts like he has a stick up his ass. When he’s home with you though? Completely different dude. 

Lots of kisses and affection are MUSTS for him because, after his childhood, he craves a lot of physical affection and he only trusts you to give it to him. It’s all in private, though, because he’s uncomfortable with the idea of being seen as weak

The two of you have a lot of little rituals around the house that make him feel more secure.

Like every day he sits on the floor between your legs while you sit on the couch and brush the gel out of his hair. It takes about 15 minutes and you both just sit and talk about your days. He loves the feeling on your hands running through his hair after a long day. It makes even the worst days bearable when he knows he has that to come home to. 

Armitage also loves to cook dinner for you.

You always try to insist that he’s worked late so you could do it, or you could just order in, but he loves to cook for you and thinks it’s a great way to show his affection. Surprisingly, he’s a pretty great chef. 

If you ever met his father, which Hux would try to prevent with literally all his might, it would probably go very, very poorly, because the second Brendol made some asshole remark about your boyfriend being less-than-enough you’d defend him. 

And the second Brendol started getting on you about anything, Hux would just beat the shit out of him. Because it’s one thing for his father to ridicule him in front of people, but you? No way.

He refuses to let anyone make you feel the way his father made him feel, even if it means standing up to him for the first time. 

Also, Armitage is rich. Like, old-money rich. And even if his dad tried to get him cut off from the fund his mother put in place for him during the divorce, he makes enough money at his job that it doesn’t really matter.

Basically, expect ridiculously expensive gifts. 

If you don’t like gifts or don’t want him to ‘waste money’ on you (which would never be the case, but he wants you to be happy) he’ll spend the money on things you both enjoy instead, like really good ingredients for dinner or a new mattress made exactly the way you need it to fic your back pain. 

--------- 18+ from this point on! ---------

Armitage isn’t very confident in bed, but he makes up for that with enthusiasm and pure skill.

It’s more comfortable for him to be on top. He likes to feel like he’s always in control of the situation because it’s already kinda weird for him to be so vulnerable and exposed. That being said he trusts you more than anybody else. If being on top is what you want then he’ll try it.

Even when it comes to getting pegged/fucked, he’d be open to it, but only if you were the one doing it. (he’d probably be a crier as a sub tho, fair warning)

He tends to get self-conscious when it comes to his scars, they’re a reminder of his ‘failure’ in the eyes of his father, but some nights when you make love you kiss them and tell him all the things you love about him to try to give him something else to think about when he sees them.

‘Tidge LOVES giving head

You never would have guessed it, he does seem like the kind of guy who will take what he wants to chase his own release, but he really just likes making you feel as good as possible at all times. 

Hux tends to cum second. His whole goal is to make you feel as good as possible and that usually means taking care of your needs before his, but even when he neglects himself you take care of him (in the bedroom and outside of it)

Both at home and at work he wears a lot of suits, so if a sharp-dressed man is a turn-on for you, congratulations. 

He tends not to go for quickies, they’re too reminiscent of work to him where the idea is to do as much as possible in a short amount of time, but sometimes if you show up at the office with flowers or lunch he’ll take you in his office. 

Finally, he has surprising stamina.

No, like... surprising.

For someone who looks like a fucking twig and works in an office all day, he can absolutely keep up with whatever you throw at him. 

--------

a/n: whew! This was like a writing warm-up before a marathon! I know Hux is definitely not the main bitch I post about on this blog, but he was my first love. Technically, even my username is paying homage to him (and Kylo, who I love dearly but cannot stand a lot of the time lol) I loved returning to my roots for this one. Thanks for the request anon!

TAGLIST: @tatestripedsweater , @elaineygrace, @multiyfandomgirl40 , @another-emotional-wreck ,  @lovelymischief 

[angelmavmurdock]

Our Little Secret: Part Seven - A.R.

Word count: 4883 Summary: Arvin has to avenge Lenora but has to see y/n before he leaves.

-

WARNINGS: SMUT, ORAL (fem recv), DIRTY TALK (mild), EXHIBITIONISM (kinda? car sex basically). a LOT of emotions.

TW: mentions of guns, the preacher being the horrific person he is

It was a week later and probably the worst week of my life. I was ultimately grounded: not being able to go to cheer practice, not being able to leave the house and of course, not being able to see Arvin. I would still cook and bake for the Russell's but I'd just drop it off at the door or give it to Earskell outside.

Daddy was getting worse and school was getting more stressful due to exams coming up. Ma and I were not talking much. Only statements, really. Nothing more, nothing less.

I missed Arvin. But I was angry at him and confused about the previous week and why he acted like that. He just gave up, just like that. He has always been so protective of me but in that situation he left me with the wolves. 

And on top of all of that, I was dealing with grief: an emotion I had never experienced before. Some days I felt numb and all I wanted to do was go to Arvin about it but I couldn't. And I was still dumbfounded at the fact she was pregnant and I had no idea. Lenora had somehow had sex and not told me. Maybe she didn't even know she was pregnant.

I often sat at my desk, pencil twirling in my fingers, thinking and wondering and daydreaming about him; when really I should be studying.

What was he doing? Did he miss me? Was he planning on seeing me again?

I could only wonder what he'd be doing at this moment...

Arvin's POV

I watched from the drivers seat, slumped with my cap low.

Reverend Teagardin had just gotten home from his rendezvous in the woods with the Reaster girl and was now greeting his wife. I saw him begin to take his suit jacket and tie off while gesturing for her to undress, too.

I clenched my jaw watching him. He undressed down to his shirt and socks, sitting proudly and smugly on his armchair like he owned the place. Like he owned her.

She sauntered up to him in her nightdress and dropped to the floor, hands on his thighs. I watched as he pushed her down fully on him.

I felt nauseas. I turned away and opened the window to get some air. I didn't like what I was doing but I had to do it. For Lenora.

After I'd seen enough, I drove home in silence. I didn't listen to the radio anymore. Just didn't feel right without y/n.

Despite the planning, the darkness and the grief going on in my life, the only thing that kept me going was the fact I might see y/n soon. But even then, I don't know if she'd even want to talk to me.

I had to leave to protect her and her parents. I understood them. I was the bad guy and she was the good girl and that's how it always was and always will be. There's no changing that.

When I got to the house, Earskell was sitting on the porch, a cigarette in his mouth

"You're late." He stated as I walked towards him.

"Yeah." I sighed.

I took my hat and jacket off then sat down next to him.

We sat in silence but it was far from that in my head.

I needed to leave tonight. But I had to see y/n. And I had to say some sort of goodbye.

But when I opened my mouth to say something, I closed it again. I wanted so bad to say goodbye but they'd be better off knowing nothing if the law came looking for me.

"Uncle...you have to be good to Grandma,"

I felt my eyes tear up. Thankfully it was dark so he couldn't see.

"She's hardly been out of bed since the funeral and without y/n here, she ain't been doin' good."

"I know." Earskell clenched his jaw.

"Grandma needs you, alright?"

He turned to me and nodded. But he looked longer than usual. It was almost like he knew.

I waited outside until Earskell went to bed. I walked in behind him and stood in the quiet house, my foot tapping the floor in thought.

If I was going to do it, it had to be now.

I collected my thoughts and quietly went into my room, packing a bag of basic clothes. My heart raced as I moved. Was I really doing this?

I stood and rubbed my hands over my face. I was crazy. What was I thinking? I sighed and sat on the edge of my bed, looking up at the art on the wall.

I never liked that drawing. It haunted me. Everything about this house and this town haunted me. Everything except from y/n.

I reached under my bed and pulled out an old wooden box. I sat it on my bed side table and opened it.

My daddy's old gun sat in the middle, accompanied by some bullets.

I gulped, staring at the weapon for a few moments before picking it up and loading it with shaky hands.

I placed it in my bag and left my room. I had every intent just to go. In the dead of night, just leave. But as I passed Grandma's room, I knew I had to write her. So I did. I quickly got out a pen and paper and wrote her a goodbye letter.

Dear Grandma, I'm writing to you because I cannot say goodbye to your face. I love you and I will always remember the things you have done for me. What I'm about to do, I do because I have to, not because I want to. Please do not try and find me. Love your grandson, Arvin.

I rolled it and sat it in a tin can. I quietly opened her bedroom door and tip-toed in, gently placing it on her bedside table. I looked at her for a few moments and then left, heading out her room, down the hall and out the front door. I got into the car, throwing my bag in the back and driving off.

It was 2 o'clock in the morning so I wouldn't expect y/n's parents to be awake. I drove up the drive of her house, nerves and adrenaline rushing through me. I parked before the gate and hopped out. There were no lights on except from one. The front left window on the second story. y/n's room.

I smiled and walked carefully along the gravel, trying not to be too loud. I picked up a few of the small gravel stones in my hand and grinned up at her window.

I aimed and threw a stone. It hit her window perfectly. I smiled, the realisation that I might see her dawning on me. I threw another, and another, and another. I was about to throw yet another until she pulled her window up.

She peeped her head out the window and looked down in shock.

"Arvin, what the hell?!" She whisper-shouted.

"y/n! Come down, please." I dropped the stones, wiping my hands on my jeans.

She looked behind her and I could see her hair pulled back messily. She must have been lying in bed.

"I can't!" She whispered.

"y/n, I really need to see you."

She scoffed, "Maybe you shouldn't have been such an asshole and I might have come down."

I hung my head, "I'm sorry, I really am. I was just trying to protect you-"

"Protect me?!" She hissed.

"Can you just come down and we can talk about this? Please?" I clasped my hands together.

She hesitated, looking at me to her door and then back at me again.

"Wait in the car I'll be there soon." She whispered before shutting the window.

I grinned and silently celebrated, returning back to the car to wait on her. I bit my lip nervously, my hands gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white.

But soon a figure caught my eye. I saw y/n exit her house and close the door carefully. She checked her surroundings before jogging over to the car. She was in a white blouse with a white A-line skirt. Her hair was intricately pleated and tied with a white silk ribbon. She looked ethereal as I opened the door for her and she got in. She didn't wear any makeup so I could see her freckles that peppered across her skin and her natural glow in the moonlight.

"Hi." She gulped nervously.

"Hey...d'you wanna go to the lake?" I asked.

"Sure." She nodded.

I pulled out and drove away and onto the familiar road we took to go to our spot.

"So, y/n I just-"

"I recommend we talk when we get there because if I scream at you and we get into an accident, that's my fault." She stated, not taking her eyes off the road.

I gulped, "Okay."

We drove in silence down the quiet roads. No one was out except from travellers. We finally reached the lake and I parked just beside it.

It looked picturesque; the moonlight shining onto the river making it gleam at the stars and the trees were full and lush.

Reader's POV

We sat in silence for a few moments. It was awkward and tension filled the air. I had snuck out and risked getting grounded again for this.

"Arvin, why am I here?" I finally asked, arms folding in front of my chest.

"Just to see you. I needed to see you." He spoke quietly.

I felt all the emotions come back to me but I didn't have enough energy to shout at him.

"Why did you leave? Why did you do that?" I asked.

He sighed, "I was protecting you."

I rolled my eyes, "Protecting me? Protecting me from what?"

"From your parents kicking you out or for them hating you for the rest of your life because you wasted it on me." He snapped.

"Wasted? You think that if we were together it would waste my life?" I turned to him fully.

He lay his head back, "I'm not like you, y/n. I'm not rich, I don't live in a fancy house, I don't work in some office job. I wouldn't be able to give you what you wanted and that's why your parents don't like me and I understand that."

I spluttered then scoffed at his negative attitude.

"Arvin, you are you and that is all I want." I felt tears spring into my eyes.

He turned his head to look at me.

"I don't need a fancy house or tons of money..." I shook my head and reached over to take his hand.

"But I do need you." I took his hand to my lips and pressed kisses onto his skin.

He watched me and I could see him tear up.

"I can't ruin your life like this." He shook his head.

"You are not ruinin' my life, Arvin. You're doin' everything but that. My life is miserable without you." I smiled slightly.

He moved his hand from mine and traced his calloused hand over my cheek, then pushing some stray hairs behind before cupping my face. His thumb stroked my skin softly as a tear rolled down his face.

"Oh, Arvin," I exhaled in sympathy.

"I'm already causin' trouble. I snuck you out at two o'clock in the mornin' I mean, that's not very responsible is it?"

I chuckled, "We're still teenagers, Arvin. We can still have fun. We don't need to be responsible all the time."

He slightly smiled, looking at my lips then to my eyes.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked in a whisper.

I nodded, "Kiss me, Arvin."

He brought his lips to mine as I rested my hand on top of his. Our lips touched and it was as if nothing had happened and we were back to normal. It was soft and sweet, our lips moving in sync like we had done this a million times before. He slid his tongue into my mouth and I hummed at the taste of him. He moved his hand from my face to my waist and squeezed my skin. I took the initiative and crawled onto his lap.

It was a little awkward with my skirt but a chuckle and a giggle we resumed, lips clashing together in a new passion. Our tongues pushed and swirled in each other's mouths, exploring as much as we could.

His lips travelled to my neck and he sucked and licked over my skin. I moaned, threading my finger through his hair as I leaned back, allowing him more access to my neck. He kept going, kissing the spot on my neck he already knew I liked. I pulled him as close to me as possible and rolled my hips in reaction.

I moaned in pleasure and confusion. Arvin hesitated for a moment but when I experimentally rolled my hips again, he held them tighter and kissed my neck with more fervour.

I picked up a rhythm, grinding my hips down onto Arvin's jeans. The friction between my pants and his jeans sent pleasure coursing through me.

"Does that feel good?" Arvin asked even though he knew my answer.

"Feels so good," I moaned.

He helped my hips move faster on him and we stopped kissing in concentration. I tugged his hair in my fingers, closing my eyes to enjoy the unexpected pleasure. I paused to rip Arvin's jacket from his shoulders and to take his shirt off. He complied, lifting his arms and then shaking his hair back into place once it was off.

"Back seat." I mumbled breathlessly as I kissed his lips.

"You sure?" He asked in the same manner.

"Please." I whimpered.

We pulled away and I got off of him, shedding of my blouse and skirt on the passengers seat before getting into the back seat and lying down. Arvin removed his jeans awkwardly but then climbed on top of me relatively easily.

I smiled and wrapped my arms around his neck as he dipped down to meet my lips again. His slid down my sides, cupping and groping my breasts covered by my bra. I gasped, arching up into him. He smirked at my reaction and snaked his hand around my back, unclipping it with ease and then throwing it in the front seat.

He palmed my boob with one hand while the other cupped my face, our lips sloppily kissing one another.

He started to kiss my jaw, my neck and then went further, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down my breasts, my stomach and he stopped at my panties. He hooked his fingers under the waistband and I lifted my hips to help him take them off. He slid them off and discarded them.

I furrowed my brows in confusion when he didn't come back up to face me again. Instead, he lifted my legs and readjusted himself between my legs. I suddenly felt self-conscious as he was face-to-face with my crotch.

"Arvin, what're you-"

"Tell me if you want me to stop, baby." He said lowly before dipping his head between my thighs.

I gasped and gripped his hair instinctively as he licked my skin from my thigh to my core.

"Arvin," I moaned, his breath fanning over my core.

He looked up at me with his dark, lustful eyes as he licked a strip from my entrance to my clit. I bucked my hips onto him in shock and pleasure.

I had never even heard of this. I knew people had sex. But I didn't realise this was a part of it.

"Taste so good, baby." He mumbled.

His tongue flicked upwards on my clit and gained a steady pace. I held his head tightly, my fingers messing up his hair. I had never felt such pleasure before. His hands held my thighs but I noticed when one of them slipped from my skin.

I looked down at him and whimpered at the sight of him between my legs, tongue working against my clit expertly.

"Feels so good- oh my god!"

He slipped a finger into my entrance with ease, curling up to find my spot.

"Shit! Yes!" I arched my back, removing a hand from his hair to grip onto the back of the seat for some stability.

The duo of his tongue and his fingers was nearly too much for me to handle. Nearly. He kept going, never halting and praising me through it.

"Look so amazing, baby. Feel so good. Taste so sweet, darlin'."

"Arvin, I'm so close." I choked, feeling the same knot form in my stomach.

"Go on, baby. Come for me."

I held his hair and pushed him further into me as I felt my high approaching. He groaned as I chased my high, feeling myself clench around his fingers. His tongue never stopped and neither did his fingers as I came. I moaned loudly, my free hand trying to grip onto anything around me. My high washed over me euphorically, his mouth and fingers still riding me through it.

I pushed his head back a little when I became sensitive to his touch and he pulled away and lifted me off my back and swiftly onto his lap. I was still hazy but he kissed me softly, tucking some hair behind my ear.

"You did so good, baby." He uttered against my lips.

"That was...so good." I sighed in satisfaction.

"D'you wanna feel me?" He asked lowly.

I bit my lip and nodded, "Yes. God, please."

He smirked and lifted me up slightly with one arm as his other pulled his underwear down to his knees and he shrugged them off. I gulped at the sight of him again. He went to touch himself but I beat him to it, wrapping my hand around his member.

His breath hitched in his throat and he rested his hand on my thighs as I pumped my hand up and down, my thumb brushing over his tip each time.

I lifted off him and swiped his tip through my folds and then eased myself onto him. We both moaned as I sank down on him, bottoming out almost immediately because I was so wet.

"So tight, darlin', fuck." He groaned.

I moved up and down on him, picking the speed up relatively quickly.

Soon enough we were both panting, moaning messes. I bounced on him mercilessly, the sound of skin slapping filled the fogged car and I gripped onto his shoulder with one hand and the inside handle on the door with the other. Arvin's hands stayed on my waist, helping me to move up and down on him.

"Fuck, it feels so good. You feel so good, Arv." I moaned.

"So good for me, y/n. So fuckin' good." He leaned forward and encased my lips in a wet kiss before flipping me onto my back.

I gasped and then moaned in upmost pleasure as he pulled out and pushed back into me, his member hitting deep within me.

He dipped his head down to my neck and I clambered at his back, leaving scratch marks over him.

He thrusted into me relentlessly and I wrapped my ankles around him, bringing him as close to me as possible. Suddenly he shifted me down slightly and I moaned as his member continuously brushed against my spot.

"Yes! Right there, fuck!" I moaned, gripping onto him with dear life.

He continued, his grunts and moans filling my ears. I gripped his hair with one hand and his back with the other.

"Fuck, I love you so much." He said into my skin.

My heart fluttered, "I love you too. So much."

"You gonna come for me? Gonna come a second time for me? Good girl."

His words coaxed me into my second high. I arched my back and moaned louder than I should have but it felt too good. I held him as close to me as possible as he thrusted into me, every brush making my orgasm more intense.

"Fuck- baby, I'm gonna come." He groaned.

I released my legs from his waist and he pulled out of me, leaving me feeling empty. I replaced his hand quickly and pumped him on top of my core. He watched with an agape mouth, pleasure consuming him as he finished. He painted all over my lower stomach but I didn't mind. I enjoyed watching him finish. I loved the fact I made him finish.

"Shit," He crashed next to me, panting.

We sat listening to each others breathing before he sat up and grabbed a handkerchief from his jacket pocket. I giggled as he brushed it over my skin, cleaning me up softly, mindful of the fact I was still sensitive.

He reached behind the seats and retrieved a blanket we'd often use for cold nights.

"I'll put the radio on." I smiled.

I reached forward and turned on the radio. A song finished and I sat back. Arvin had found a comfortable position in the corner and tapped next to him. I smiled and sat where he gestured, both of us putting our feet up and relaxing into each other.

'I'll Never Smile Again' by Frank Sinatra came on the radio and I nuzzled into Arvin's bare chest.

(PLAY NOW!)

Arvin's POV

"I love this song." She sighed sweetly.

I gulped, knowing that this song would now have a whole new meaning to her after this conversation. In fact, it was pretty fitting.

"y/n, I gotta tell you somethin' that might seem crazy and horrible but..." I spoke nervously and I could already feel the lump beginning to form in my throat.

She squeezed me a little, "What is it?"

I took a few deep breaths, gathering my thoughts and what I was about to tell her.

"I needed to see you tonight because...because I'm leavin'. Tonight."

She paused and then sat up, holding her half of the blanket over her chest.

"What the hell are you talkin' about?"

I gulped, "I have to do somethin' and I can't be here anymore."

"What d'you have to do, Arvin?" She asked, concern lacing her voice.

I looked into her eyes, "I need to avenge Lenora." I said truthfully.

I think she immediately knew what I meant. She stopped and stared at me with the same blank expression for nearly a whole minute.

"y/n please say somethin'."

"I uh...I don't know who you're gonna hurt. But do you really need to?" She asked.

I nodded, "I have to. I won't be able to rest until I do."

Her chin began to quiver, "But I need you."

She broke into a sob and I brought her close to me, holding her head to my chest and rubbing her back soothingly.

"You will be just fine without me, y/n. I know you will."

"How can I live my life knowin' you might be out there. Or what if you die, Arvin?! What will I do?!" She sat up, facing me, tears staining her once glowing face.

I cupped her face and wiped her tears away, "I love you. And I will always love you, y/n. You need to know that. If I could, I would stay with you."

She cried into my hands and I felt myself begin to break.

"I would stay with you. I'd marry you, I'd have kids with you and get a house with you. I'd spend the rest of my life with you if I could, y/n. But I can't." I felt tears fall down my face.

She shook her reddened face in my palms, "I can't go on without you, Arvin."

"Hey, yes you can." I stated.

"You will be just fine. You're startin' college after the summer and you'll be gettin' a job, a life."

"Without you." She cried.

"I know. I'm so sorry it has to be like this, y/n."

She looked at me, "I'm sorry, too."

I brought her back into me and we sunk into our original position. We were both still crying and we both knew.

"Keep close with Grandma but don't tell her anything about me. I don't want her worryin' and I don't want her knowin' if she doesn't have to." I said, kissing the top of her head.

"Okay." She nodded.

"I don't know where this'll take me. I don't know if I'll get in trouble for it, killed for it, or what. But I can't come back here even if it was to be with you."

"How could we reconnect if you did survive and get through it?"

I sighed, "I have no idea. I could be half-way across the fuckin' country."

She sniffled and wiped her nose, "I can't believe this is happening."

"I know, darlin'. I know." I kissed her head again.

We sat listening to the radio just being with each other for another hour. We fell asleep for an hour after that, wrapped in each other with the blanket draper over us. The sun rising woke us up. We awoke at the same time and readjusted our position to how it was before and watched the sun turn the sky red, pink, purple and orange.

"Ain't this the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?" She asked quietly, as if trying not to disturb the sun from continuing its venture into the sky.

I moved her hair away from her face and tilted her chin to look up at me.

"Nothing can or will ever be more beautiful than you, y/n." I said softly.

She smiled and colour rose to her cheeks. I leaned down and kissed her. It was deep and meaningful and timeless. Like the world stopped just for us. It was breathless and beautiful and it made my heart ache knowing I would never have this again.

She was the love of my life.

"I'll need to drive you home before your parents wake up." I sighed, pulling away from her.

She closed her eyes in dread but nodded in agreement.

We got out and peed then changed into our clothes. She took her hair out of the plait so it was wavy. I'd never seen it like that before. She looked beautiful. I leaned against the bonnet of the car with a cigarette in my mouth, watching the lake liven up again and the sun poking through the trees. y/n walked up slowly to me and stood next to me, wrapping her arms around me. We both looked at the scene in front of us and took it in.

"Let's get on the road, alright?" I whispered to her.

"Okay." She gulped.

I disposed my cigarette then we got in the car. I reluctantly drove away and we got back on the road, heading up to her house.

My hand stayed gripped in hers the whole way. I drove as slowly as I could up the drive but we reached the gate and I had to stop.

We turned to each other and crashed our lips together. We were both already crying so the breathlessness and the salty taste on our tongues was mutual. I cupped her cheeks and threaded my hands in her hair, then down her back and her waist to her hips and her ass, squeezing and then coming back up.

We both parted but stayed millimetres away, gasping for air.

"I love you." She said hurriedly.

"I love you too." I said it back.

"Fuck, I don't wanna get out the car." She cursed.

I brought her head to my clavicle, pressing my lips to her head and inhaling her scent.

"I love you." I said again as she pulled away.

She reached for me again, our lips meeting in a rushed, passionate manner.

Her hands moved into my hair to down my chest and then back up to cup my face.

"Fuck, I've gotta go, Arvin." She panted, a tear falling down her cheek.

"I love you." I said.

She hesitantly pulled away, our hands still intertwined.

"Be safe and do what you have to do, alright? I will always love you, Arvin." She said shakily.

"I will always love you, y/n." I stated, my eyes blurring.

She waited and paused and I knew she was about to go.

I leaned in again, kissing her deeply, getting the last taste of her, swirling my tongue hurriedly around hers in an attempt to savour every last moment with her.

We pulled away.

"I love you, Arvin."

"I love you, y/n."

She immediately got out the car. Slamming the door shut to rip the band-aid even more. I watched her as she walked up her driveway and up the steps to her house.

My heart shattered when she got in and shut the door without looking back.

"Fuck."

****

I sat down a few pews back from Reverend Teagardin, resisting the urge to shoot and kill him on the spot.

"Excuse me, Preacher?" I spoke up.

I looked up at him from my cap.

"You got time for a sinner?"

-

{Tags: @notanordinaryprincess96 @imagine-yourself-happy​}

[hotchley]

balls fair in love and war

So... this is the fic inspired by the AU in this post. Umm... it's a shambles, I low-key hate parts of it, the ending is rushed, but we're going with it before my laptop dies </3

Ignore any and all medical inaccuracies. I did a bit of research, but a lot of it confused me, so... this is not an accurate representation of a concussion. Like seriously. Also ignore any ethical issues, they're just... it's fine. As usual no proofreading. Umm.... don't ask where Rossi is. I don't know.

Taglist (I guess? I don't actually have one, it's just for this lol): @eldrai @willlemonheadsupremacy @shmaptainhotchnersmain @sarcvstiel @unionjackpillow @katytheinspiredworkaholic (you said you would read it so... is that okay?)

A very big and grateful thank you to @aaron-hotchner187 for giving me a title!! And to everyone else that gave suggestions, you are also much loved <3

Also, the way Hotch acts as a teacher is inspired by the way I think @ellyhotchner will be when they become a teacher <3 and everyone go and tell @whump-town thank you because she: told me about penlights, gave me the easy tiger line and is just overall a good person.

Trigger Warnings: concussions, fear of brain hemorrhages, hospitals, self-blame

read on ao3!

Like most things that went wrong in Aaron Hotchner’s life, his current predicament could be blamed on Emily Prentiss. He would not hear otherwise. And he didn’t think he should be forced to hear otherwise, given he was the one sitting on a hospital bed in a thin gown that did nothing to keep him warm, whilst she got to sit outside with a cup of coffee.

She had, admittedly, looked absolutely horrified when the accident occured, and had spent the whole journey to the hospital apologising again and again. He’s pretty sure she offered up her first-born child to him at some point as a form of penance. As well as her apartment. And he definitely remembers hearing something about grading his papers for him.

So whilst he may not want to be anywhere near her offspring- especially if they’re like her- and whilst he may definitely not want her apartment- he doesn’t care what she says, it is haunted- he will be taking her up on that last offer. Did he feel suitably appeased by her squirming the whole time, and by the fact that she was the one that had to explain to the principal why there were two classes screaming, crying and a teacher on the floor?

Yes, but there was no harm in milking it.

If he’s being completely honest, he felt like he was taking advantage of a hospital bed. He was sure he was fine. Yes, it hurts to move his head and he feels dizzy, and he probably has all the symptoms of a minor concussion, but he just really doesn’t want to be in the hospital.

Besides, he needs to make sure the kids aren't traumatised. It can’t have been easy for them, watching him just fall to the ground and hit his head hard enough for there to be blood. Emily could be traumatised, he didn’t care. But their students? Absolutely not.

He sighs. He wants to hand in his resignation now. Going back is going to be so embarrassing.

“I don’t think you understand. He is my best friend, and if he doesn’t get this blanket, he will- Spencer, what will he do if he doesn’t get this blanket?” A voice says from outside.

Aaron closes his eyes. He wants the ground to swallow him up. Forget returning to school, the next few minutes of his life are going to be even more embarrassing than the time Emily tricked him into being part of the Christmas pantomime. Haley hadn’t been offended, thank goodness, but still. It took him three months to be able to meet her eyes.

“He’ll- he’ll- I can’t even say it, it’s just so upsetting,” Spencer lies.

“Ma’am, sir, if you would let me speak for two seconds. Miss Prentiss said that some of her colleagues would be coming with Mr Hotchner’s things. All I am asking for is proof of identity,” the floor receptionist says.

The apologies immediately start to pour from the mouth of Penelope Garcia, whilst Spencer Reid just takes out both their driver's licences. The receptionist clearly approves, because before Aaron knows what’s happening, he’s being embraced by someone who smells like roses, and his favourite blanket is being draped over him.

“Oh my goodness, you don’t know how grateful I am that you’re alive,” Penelope says.

Aaron gives her a slight smile. Penelope is one of his favourite people, despite all their differences. And he likes to think he’s one of her favourites. He wouldn’t be thinking wrong.

“Penelope, I’m fine. Seriously. This is just a precaution. I promise it isn’t that bad,” he says, even though the light is starting to hurt his eyes.

“Isn’t that bad? I saw you and Emily taking your classes outside, which was weird to begin with because you both have classes that don’t require being outside, what were you doing? And then, I’m watching because the class can be trusted to sketch without my guidance and I’m curious. But then I turn my back for three seconds to help someone, and everyone is screaming, and you’re on the floor, and there’s blood everywhere and- it was scary!” she says.

“I’m so sorry,” Aaron says, for lack of anything else to say.

“I don’t want you to be sorry! I want you to stop getting hurt!” Penelope exclaims, whacking him in the shoulder.

“I don’t want you to be sorry either. It was hilarious to watch, my students were in hysterics,” Spencer adds. Penelope glares.

Aaron isn’t surprised. Him and Spencer get on- they even have shared interests- but they also have some of the same classes. And as a result of the different subjects and ways they teach, it seems to them that it is impossible for their students to like them both.

“So, not that I don’t appreciate it, but why are you here?” He asks.

Spencer and Penelope glance at each other, and Hotch feels like he’s dealing with two students that have tried to set up two of his friends.

“Garcia. Reid,” he says. In the same tone he uses when dealing with two students that have tried to set up two of his friends.

“We thought that if we came, JJ wouldn’t, but uhh-” Spencer starts.

JJ bursts into the room before he can finish. “”Hotch! What happened? I mean, I’ve heard what happened because Strauss came and told me the basics, but still. Why were the two of you in the playground? Are you okay? Let me see that bump on your head. I also brought your lunch in case you were peckish.”

“Well basically-”

“Why does Emily look like she’s about to start crying?” Haley asks, entering.

Everyone but JJ turns and stares at her with a slight look of horror. Aaron slides down the bed slightly, hoping the blanket can cover the furious blush that he just knows stains his cheeks. Him and Haley went on a date once, after he asked her in a moment of impulsivity. It was the worst thing he’d ever done, for both of them.

“Oh come on guys, we’re professionals. JJ asked me to come because apparently, Aaron listens to me? I said he’s just too afraid of me to disobey. Which, I meant as a joke, but you do know that I don’t hate you right? Sure, the date was a disaster, but you do know we can still be friends?”

“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me,” he confesses.

“That’s why I brought her with me. To prove you wrong,” JJ says. “But yes, why is Emily so upset?”

“Because I almost killed my best friend and traumatised our students and I’ve ruined his life and our careers and he can get me fired and press charges, but all I wanted to do was make him laugh, and this is the first place where I’ve felt appreciated, and I’m going to lose it all,” Emily sobs from outside.

“Can you bring her in?” He asks Penelope.

She obliges, and Hotch pats the area next to him. Emily sits beside him, wiping her eyes on the corner of the extra blanket they brought.

“You didn’t almost kill me, it’s a mild concussion at most. Our students have seen worse, and they will be fine. My life is not ruined because you will be doing my grading. I’m not going to get you fired or press charges, and you’re not about to lose any of this. Okay?”

“You always know what to say,” she says.

He ruffles her hair.

“Love you. Platonically,” he tells her.

She gives him a bright smile, and he can feel himself smiling back, less embarrassed about everything.

And then she starts laughing hysterically, and deliberately shoves him, causing him to almost fall out of the bed, only stopped by Haley and Dave each grabbing one of his arms and pushing him back up. Of course, Emily just looks at him like she hasn’t done anything wrong.

“I cannot believe you fell for that. As if I would ever be that upset. Honestly. Haley, maybe I should replace you as drama teacher!”

Haley raises an eyebrow. “Ah yes, because the last time you got others involved in theatre, it ended so well.”

Emily has nothing to say.

Aaron does. He turns and swears in French.

“Naughty boy. Don’t let anyone else hear you. Especially not my class, I told them what that meant after you said it when I stole your stapler and then told you I’d given it to Miss Brooks.”

He pales.

“Speaking of your classes, how did this happen?” Haley asks, clearly sensing the need for a change in topic.

Emily looks at Aaron.

“It was your fault!” he says.

“Well it was your idea!” she counters.

He sighs. “So what happened was…”

Hotch and Emily’s classrooms are next to each other. To Hotch, this is both a blessing and a curse. It means he could keep an eye on her. It also means he had to keep an eye on her. See, Emily isn't irresponsible, and she would never actually endanger her students, but sometimes, she leans towards danger.

How, when she teaches modern languages, is beyond Hotch, but regardless. Strauss had actually hired Emily, not just for her abilities, but because she believed someone needed to keep an eye on Hotch. How the times have changed.

Hotch is on break duty, and he can't see anyone from his class. Which is weird. He tries to keep their lives as stress-free as possible, and he was always willing to help anyone that needs it, but certain assessments could not be avoided. But still, he expects to see at least one of them outside, if only to get a few minutes of fresh air.

Emily smiles at him sympathetically before she walks into her classroom. It is like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over him. Sympathy from Emily isn't comforting. Not when it was aimed at him. If anything, it just makes him more scared. The last time she had looked at him like that, he had explained how his date with Haley had gone from one disaster to another.

And then she laughed.

So he pushes the door open, stepping back in case something fell on him. It wouldn't have been the first time. But nothing does. So he steps into his classroom, expecting to see his eleventh grade literature class doing something suspicious.

They aren't, and suddenly he understands exactly why Emily had looked at him like that.

Because his class has never looked so upset or defeated. And his heart breaks for all of them. It has been a while since he was fifteen, but he wouldn't ever forget the feeling of helplessness that seemed to define his existence. Nor would he forget how everything felt like too much and not enough.

"What happened?" He asks them gently.

Violet, a quiet girl that always tells him what Miss Prentiss had said about him, burst into tears. One of her friends patted her back, but it's clear they didn't quite know what they were doing. Neither does Hotch, but goddammit, these are his kids. Nobody is going to hurt them.

"Hey, it's okay. Do you want to go somewhere else?" He asks her.

She shakes her head. "I just- I want all of this to be over, but then I don't because it means going to college and leaving here and having to grow up, but I just- I have no fucking idea what I'm doing and it's all too much."

He winces at the use of swear words, because he is still a teacher, but that also means he feels a sense of pride that she's able to voice what it is. Because now, he may not be able to fix the situation, but he can help.

"I know. That's okay. That's normal. And you'll work it out. You know, I almost became a lawyer."

She looks up, her eyes red, but starting to sparkle again. "A lawyer."

"Yep, I almost also applied to the FBI Academy. It was actually Miss Prentiss that talked me out of that one. Well, it wasn't really talking but the true story is a little too… inappropriate for school."

"I can't imagine you doing either of those. You'd get bored as a lawyer, and you would never smile as an FBI agent," Clarissa says.

Hotch blinks.

She shrugs like it's the most obvious thing in the world. And then she offers him a piece of candyfloss, which he rejects.

He checks his lesson plan. And then his planner. And then the calendar he keeps on his table. Emily always makes fun of him for being so organised, but Spencer admires it, and that makes him feel cool, so he focuses on that instead.

"I have a compromise. We don't need to do a lesson today, we have more than enough time to cover everything because we're already ahead. I let you do whatever you want for the remainder of the lesson- whether that's colouring or crying or dancing. But you have to do it outside. I didn't see any of you at break."

"Really?" Violet asks.

He nods. "Of course."

Everyone cheers, and grabs their bags, clearly ready to not use their brains for a bit. Aaron gives them the most warm smile he can manage, but he can't help the small surge of guilt that accompanies his lack of realisation.

As his class exits, happily chattering away to each other, Emily pokes her head out the door.

"Mr Hotch, what are you doing, and can I join?"

Immediately, all eyes are on him.

"Please?" Violet asks.

Clarissa pulls out the puppy eyes.

Thomas falls to his knees.

"Oh my god, yes fine, okay, just- everyone be quiet before Strauss finds out and shouts at me," he says.

Emily runs back inside, and soon, they're all just milling about and having fun on the playground. It's nice, both for the students, and the teachers, to have a bit of a break from the world, and to spend a few moments away from it all. Some of them are running around, playing a game of tag, some of them are simply sitting around, and a few are colouring.

"Do you still like playing catch?" Emily asks him.

"What?"

"Catch. Remember, you used to play it with Sean all the time when we were in college."

"I mean yeah, I would probably get involved, but I'm not quite sure-"

"Think fast!" She shouts, and she lobs a netball at him.

The last thing he thinks, moments before his head meets the ground with a large amount of force- enough for there to be a small amount of blood- is: how is it always her? Every single time he gets into a situation, it's her that causes it. That has to be statistically impossible. Maybe he should ask Spencer…

"So yeah! And now I'm here!" He shoves Emily, who has the audacity to look offended.

Penelope kisses his forehead. Haley laughs a little, but Reid just blinks like he can't quite believe how stupid his co-workers are.

"Well. From what I've heard, it was a pretty good shot," JJ comments.

Haley turns to her. "From everything we've just been told, that's what you choose to pick out?"

"I'm a gym teacher, can you really blame me?"

Emily mutters something.

"You were what?" Garcia asks.

"I was aiming for his leg," she repeats.

"Emily. I know you teach languages, not biology, but look at me. Head," Hotch says, pointing at the bump he's not going to cover up, "Leg." He points at his ankle.

"It's always lovely when people know their anatomy. Saves me a lot of time," a new voice says.

Hotch turns in the direction of it, ready to make a snarky comment, but whatever words he had thought of die on his lips as he suddenly feels like he's been transported into a medical drama full of unrealistically attractive protagonists.

Because the doctor who has just walked in is the most handsome man he has ever seen. His smile is easy and genuine, and his eyes seem to twinkle with mischief. And his arms, oh god his arms seem like the safest place to exist. Aaron can't help but wonder what it would be like to have those arms wrapped around him-

His cheeks warm. No.

"Hi, I'm Dr Morgan. But you can all call me Derek. I'm here for Aaron Hotchner. Who I am going to assume, is you," he says, looking straight at Hotch.

"I- yes. How did you know?"

Dr Morgan- Derek- somehow smiles even more. "Well, even though there are far too many people in here- did all of you somehow miss the two people at one time sign- you are the only one in a hospital bed wearing a hospital gown, so. I'm no profiler, but it was pretty easy."

If it's even possible, his cheeks flush more. But one word sticks out to him. "Wait, profiler?"

"You got me. Crime procedurals are my guilty pleasure. I always said that if I joined the FBI, I would become a profiler. Obviously, I went down a very different route."

"Obviously. Wait, too many people? Oh god, I'm so, so sorry, if you need them to leave, they can. In fact, I also feel a lot better, so if you would like me to also go, I really, it's no trouble."

Because he is an idiot- there really is no other justification for this- he tries to stand up. And he does. He also gets a few steps in before the world starts spinning and he almost loses his balance. Derek somehow moves fast enough to guide him back to the bed. Aaron tries and fails to ignore how warm he is.

"Thanks," he whispers, slightly breathless. And not just from almost hurting himself again.

"It's not a problem Aaron. Both things. Your friends can stay, we're just doing some simple checks," Derek says.

"Oh everyone calls him Hotch," Penelope says.

"Aaron is fine. Really." Because he likes Derek calling him Aaron. He wants Derek to call him Aaron.

And then he meets Emily's eyes and he realises his mistake. There's a common denominator that exists with everyone that he tells to call him Aaron, and he knows that she knows what it is. He's fucked.

"Okay then. Well, can you explain to me what happened?"

Aaron is mesmerised by Derek's eyes. So mesmerised that he forgets to answer. "Sorry, what?"

There's a flash of concern, replaced by a smile. "Can you tell me how you ended up here?"

"Oh yes. So, I'm a teacher- so is everyone here. And I- I was outside, with my- my students when Emily- that one there- she, look, it's a really mild concussion, can I just be discharged? I'm sure my students are very, uhh, very scared," he stutters. Why can he never function when he likes someone? It's mortifying.

"I'm sure it is, but you can't blame me for doing my job. I'm going to take your heart rate now, okay? The stethoscope will be cold, but it'll warm up eventually," Derek says.

Aaron nods, and barely flinches when it touches him. If anything, he's more concerned by how close Derek seems to be. Not in a malicious way, but he's always had this deeply irrational fear that if someone got too close to him, they'd be able to read his thoughts. Which would mean Derek can hear both the fact that he has a crush and that he has this fear.

Derek pulls away, and Aaron exhales.

"Your heart rate is unusually fast. Normally that wouldn't be too concerning, because we expect that when patients seem anxious, but you've seemed pretty calm, up till this moment," Derek says, noting how Aaron tenses.

"Is he going to be okay?" Penelope asks.

Derek turns to her. "Of course he is. He's in good hands."

Aaron needs to get his mind out the gutter before his cheeks explode. Or before Emily opens her mouth.

"Aaron, I know you think the concussion is mild, but this is still a requirement. I'm going to turn on this penlight, and I'm going to ask you to follow it with your eyes okay? Follow the light," Derek explains.

He nods, and Derek turns the penlight on. Aaron flinches at the brightness of it, then tenses in slight fear that his lovely doctor is going to be annoyed at him or call him difficult, or sigh and say he needs to stop acting like a child. It wouldn't be the first time,

But Derek doesn't do any of those things. He does something very different.

He places his hand on Aaron's thigh. "Easy tiger. I won't hurt you," he says.

Aaron melts. His eyes drop down to where Derek's hand is warming his skin. He thinks Derek says his name, but he's too busy having a crush to hear him. And then suddenly, his thigh is cold, but Derek is touching his shoulder and he should be shying away from the light being shone in his eyes. But he isn't because he's too busy looking at Derek and his beautiful eyes to even pay attention.

Rather late, he remembers that there is a reason for Derek to be looking at him the way he is, and he tries to follow the light. But the headache he's had since he came around is only getting worse, and the light isn't helping.

Derek isn't smiling anymore.

"Aaron. Be very honest with me. You've displayed difficulty with coordination, memory and speech. If I asked you whether or not you felt sick or nauseous, what would your answer be?"

Normally, he would just under exaggerate, but Derek seems to genuinely care. So he chooses to be honest.

"Yes?"

Derek's eyes widen. "Aaron, I don't want to alarm you, but I like to keep my patients informed. You're going to have a CT scan done immediately, and there's a chance you may be rushed into emergency surgery."

Everyone, including Emily, starts to panic, but Derek leaves the room to grab a nurse to help, and to tell someone else to make sure there's a clear room. Aaron isn't completely sure what's happening, but his head is killing him, so he lays down again. It only helps a small amount.

For Aaron, the CT scan isn't too bad. If he knew the reason it was being done, and that it wasn't a routine procedure, he would probably have spent the whole time panicking. But he doesn't, and so he sits there- well lies there- with a slight smile on his face. The migraine he's had has been getting worse, so keeping his eyes closed for such an extended period of time is actually quite enjoyable.

It is far less enjoyable for everyone that is upstairs, waiting to find out whether or not their friend has a brain hemorrhage. That's what Derek told them after Aaron was carted away, still seeming very out of it. They needed to test him for a brain bleed. And if he had one, then it would just be a case of waiting to see whether they could treat him. And even if they could treat him, it wasn't guaranteed that he would get back to normal.

Emily, in spite of all of her teasing comments, isn't coping. Because it's still early, the floor is relatively quiet, and Derek is technically on his lunch break, so he's sitting with them in an attempt to provide them with some sort of comfort. He's not sure where this emotional attachment to these random people has come from, but it's formed itself and now he's determined to provide some comfort.

"I really was aiming for his leg," Emily whispers.

"Hmm?" Derek asks, not quite following.

"When I threw the ball, I really was aiming for his leg. He had lost consciousness by this point, but I started crying when he hit the ground. He forgave me. He told me he loved me, platonically that is, and I laughed at him. He's going to die, and he isn't going to know how much he meant to me."

"He's not going to die. He may not even have a brain bleed. But if he does, we're going to save him, and you're going to be able to spend the rest of your life telling him how much he means to you. I promise," Derek says.

Even though there are tears in her eyes, Emily turns to him and smiles. "You're a good man, Dr Morgan."

"That's all I've ever wanted, Miss Prentiss. So thank you. It means a lot to me." And it does. He replays the moment as he goes over to Spencer and Penelope, who he feels a strange sense of protection over. Like he needs to protect them from everything, which is weird, because once Aaron is discharged, he'll probably never see them again.

That shouldn't make him sad, but it does.

"Mr Hotchner's CT scan came back normal. There's no sign of a brain bleed," the nurse tells them, what feels like a lifetime later.

There's a collective sigh of relief, and when he's wheeled back in, looking tired but alive, Emily throws her arms around her best friend, who lets out a soft sound of surprise. Like he's not quite used to the fact that people love him. Derek smiles. His patient will be in good hands when he gets discharged.

"Wait, so what caused all of those problems?" Spencer asks.

The nurse shrugs. "It's probably as simple as: his concussion was more severe than we initially thought, but not as bad as we feared."

"Oh."

"And on that note, Aaron, we're keeping you overnight for observation. It's just to be safe. We can't be too careful. You gave everyone a very big scare when you got sent out," Derek says.

Aaron cannot, and will not, confess. Does he feel guilty? Yes. But he can live with the guilt. He cannot live with the all-encompassing shame that will come with explaining that actually, the reason he was stuttering and failing the penlight test was because of a silly little crush.

"Okay," he says, determined to be as compliant as possible.

"One- and only one- of you is welcome to stay with him, if you'd like," Derek adds.

Haley's eyes light up. "I'll do it! Jessica can bring me my things, and maybe you'll be able to look at me after we've spent another night together. Only this time, nobody's getting pneumonia. I hope so, at least. You're not cold are you?"

Aaron shakes his head. "But you really don't need to stay. I'll be fine on my own. Seriously."

"I know, but I want to. Believe it or not, I do actually enjoy your company."

He smiles.

"We should all be getting a move on. Jason and Erin will want updates, and I have lots of marking," JJ says. She kisses Hotch on the forehead before walking to the door, smiling at Derek for looking after her friend so well.

Spencer waves from where he's standing and Penelope showers him with affection. Emily is the only one that seems hesitant to leave.

"Can I stay till visiting hours end?" She asks.

"Do you feel like you can keep up with these two lovely ladies Aaron?" Derek asks.

Aaron has never enjoyed the sound of his name as much as he does when it comes from the doctor. "I- sure," he stutters, and he just knows his cheeks are a stupid colour. Emily frowns, as though she finds something suspicious.

Derek smiles. "Good man. I'll be back in a few hours to run the same tests as before. For now, take it easy."

Derek doesn't come back a few hours later, because he has other patients. It's a different doctor, and Aaron is both relieved and disappointed. Because on the one hand, he's not going to create another medical crisis, on the other, he wants to see Derek again.

Maybe he can get Emily to knock him out again…

"Your heart rate seems completely normal. And you followed the penlight exceptionally well, so I believe we have nothing to fear. Of course, you'll stay overnight, and we'll run these tests once more before you're discharged tomorrow, but I think we're out of the woods now," they say.

Emily gasps, and Aaron knows he's screwed. Luckily, both the doctor and Haley seem to not have heard, and she leaves with the doctor, so Aaron doesn't have to know right at that moment whether his suspicions are correct.

"Night Hotchner," Haley says a few minutes later.

Hotch is already asleep.

The entire team comes and collects him from the hospital.

Aaron is just grateful they're sending him home with a pack of all the things he now needs to do, because he spent the whole lecture admiring how handsome Derek looks with sun shining down on him that he didn't take any of it in. It's also Derek's signature on the discharge papers. He's reminded of high school, when he and his friends would make fake marriage certificates. Not that he's going to do that.

"Bye Aaron. I don't want to see you here any time soon, okay?" Derek teases.

"I won't make any promises," he replies, just relieved he does it without stuttering or blushing.

Derek smiles, and the twinkle in his eyes seems even more mischievous. "Miss Prentiss," he says, spotting Emily.

"Dr Morgan," she responds. She's smirking.

When Aaron asks her what was going on, she doesn't answer. Haley says it's probably linked to the emotions of the previous day, and she's usually good at reading these situations, so he doesn't push any further. Besides, he's too busy catching up with the meetings he missed, and the antics of his students, because a lot happened in the three days he was off, to give it much thought.

Two weeks pass, and the incident is almost completely forgotten.

But then he walks back into his classroom, having just finished a meeting, and he finds flowers on his desk. Tulips. His favourite. He immediately pulls the note out, and when he opens it, he almost wonders if he's concussed it.

Because he knows that signature. He's been staring at it for fourteen days. It's Derek's.

"Surprise. Aaron," a voice says for the doorway.

"How- what- I- what?"

Derek Morgan, still in scrubs and a white coat, smiles at him. "Want to pick a question I can actually answer?"

"How did you- what are you doing here? And why?"

"Well, you should thank Emily. After the other doctor took your heart rate, she came and told me her suspicion. Apparently, you always say you're Hotch. Even the students call you Mr Hotch. Which is strange, because I call you Aaron. And, you shouldn't have done the penlight flawlessly if you had a more severe concussion. So she thinks you have a crush. I didn't want to be unethical, so those flowers can simply mean: I hope you're coping. If you don't have a crush that is."

"What if I do?" Aaron asks, surprised at his own boldness.

"Then I would ask if I could kiss you before I take you out to dinner," Derek says, not missing a beat.

"And if I said yes?"

Derek takes three long strides, and he kisses Aaron like it's something he was made to do. Aaron melts against him, trying to memorise him as quickly as he can, before he realises he has all the time in the world to do that. Because Derek is going to take him out to dinner. Derek, who brought him flowers.

"That was- wow. Wait. You have a crush on me too!" Aaron exclaims with a grin.

"Of course I do," Derek says.

That stuns Aaron back into silence. "Wow," he whispers to himself.

Derek hugs him, and being in his arms is everything- no more- than Aaron imagined it to be. "I'm glad you're okay," he says.

"I'm glad you don't hate me," Aaron says, because he really doesn't know what else to say.

Derek laughs, and Aaron can't wait to find all the ways he can make that happen.

"We should say thank you to Emily at some point. If she didn't know you as well as she does, she wouldn't have realised you had a crush. And if she wasn't so terrifying when she wants something good for her friends, I wouldn't have sent the flowers."

"Can we say thank you later? I want to stay like this for a few moments," Aaron whispers, snuggling closer to his new boyfriend.

"Of course we can," Derek says, kissing his forehead.

When they eventually make it to Derek's car- Aaron can come back tomorrow and get his, it'll be fine, Aaron realises he has one more thing to say.

"Derek?"

"Yes, sweetness?"

Well. That makes him feel things he won't confess too, because he needs something to make him seem the slightest bit cool.

"I'm really sorry I made you think I had a brain hemorrhage."

Derek's laughter is so real that Aaron can't help but join in, and they end up not starting the car for five minutes because it would be irresponsible to drive in that state. And it's only when they're pulling out that they both realise something: Derek gets to see Aaron's family again, and Emily didn't need to hit him in the head again for him to get to see Derek again.

[dramaqueeenamby]

𝐑𝐄𝐃 ⧼𝑏. 𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑠⧽

A/N: It’s almost a new year! Figured I’d finish this one off with a bang. Literally. Okay, I’ll shut up. Also, I’ve never written Bucky before, so I apologize in advance for the massacre and disrespect of his characterization. 

Summary: ❝You still remember the first time he walked in, the baseball cap and glasses told a story you knew all too well.❞

Warnings: Smut with a bit of plot. Sorta. Mostly, just smut. Vaginal penetration. Oral (female receiving). Light Dom themes (specifically, choking). Blink and you miss it cockwarming.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 3K

RED

You don’t even know his name.

Don’t know where he’s from, who his people are, where he lays his head at night. None of it. Actually, the last one is a lie. You know it’s not here, in this town of less than 1,000 where the only people of color, including yourself, can be counted on one hand.

It’s not ideal, but when wanting to become consumed by a blanket of invisibility and needing to erase your existence from the greater world, you do what you have to do.

You still remember the first time he walked in, the baseball cap and glasses told a story you knew all too well.

Privacy. It was all he wanted, and you’d give him that, along with any alcoholic beverage he wanted. And, he wanted a lot.

You’d once commented that his liver had to be nonexistent and asked just how long he’d been drinking, because no matter how much he consumed, he remained coherent enough to leave a kind tip and close his tab. He said nothing.

He was a man of few words, when in public, at least.

You liked that as well. Maybe it was because he recognized that you had a job to do, or perhaps he detected that look in your eyes. It was that same look that he had, that plea for solitude.

You had a feeling that you weren’t the only one who could be in a room full of people and still feel all alone. You lived by that. So did he.

Interactions and meetings outside of the shabby bar commenced through the most generic of circumstance. It was a copy and paste situation. A rowdy, drunk customer became too intoxicated to remain inside the establishment. You calmly asked him to leave, security was preoccupied with another violent drunk, and next thing you knew, he’d grabbed you by your forearm. His grip was relentless but so was your dedication to break free. Unfortunately, mental fortitude didn’t outweigh physical capability.

He’d shoved you into the a nearby table, sending you onto the floor, your head and side loud with its throbbing. Your eyes shut as the pain coursed. However, seconds later, your attacker was outside, flat on his ass, unconscious.

That was the first time he saved you, and it was all it took for you two to progress into something more. You couldn’t say intimacy. For you, intimacy meant feelings, and feelings were nonexistent here.

This was an arrangement, a source of release.

It was mutually beneficial.

You both received something from the other, an ironic arrangement considering you had a feeling he, like you, had little else to give.

The first time occurred in your car, in the back seat. He was big—in more ways than one—so it wasn’t ideal, but he’d stated that he received a ride, so he had nowhere to offer. You certainly weren’t bringing him back to your apartment. Stranger danger and the fact that it was rundown.

So, that left your vehicle, which again, wasn’t the best place, but it wasn’t the worst. And at least you got to be on top, one of your favorite positions

The time after that, despite your initial protest, happened in the storage closet in the back of the bar. He’d shifted an old keg to block the door before he promptly placed you up and ate you out.

You’d received head before, but this was something different. You’d never had a man leave you as delirious and feeble with just his mouth alone. Hell, most of the time, you had to instruct more than a professor.

The more you thought about it, the more you regretted not charging tuition.

Especially considering most failed every time.

Not him. No, it was as though he knew exactly what you wanted, and he gave off the impression that he wanted it too.

You’d allowed him to lower you to the ground, hands on your hips as he kept you upright and stabilized. For good reason, your legs were bowling balls, and you needed time to find your equilibrium.

However, when you finally came to and attempted to fall to your knees, he stopped you.

You looked up, not saying a word, your furrowed eyes conveying confusion. What man refused head?

You waited for an explanation. He offered none, bringing you back to your feet as he moved the keg and left you alone, confused and still very much on a high from your orgasm.

And sure, at first, you berated yourself for letting a stranger go down on you. You didn’t know his sexual history, but to be fair, he didn’t know yours either. You were both reckless, but with the mind-blowing pleasure he caused you, you weren’t exactly stressing over longterm implications.

You didn’t see him for a few weeks after that, and as much as you hated to admit that you missed him, you did. Mostly because the sex was addictive, but also because every time he came around, you could just see that something was off.

Something ate at him, but whatever it was, you’d never know. And it was better that way. Converging demons never ended well for anyone. Two fucked up people doing more than just fucking and leaving would benefit no one and harm everything.

That sexual tryst also occurred in your vehicle, but the two of you were more creative that time around. You played around with different positions, testing your both your flexibility and comfortability.

You finally told him your name.

He was mid-stroke when you blurted it out, his pace slowing as his eyes met yours. You swallowed and repeated it, louder. On the second round, he used it, quietly mumbling it into the sheen of sweat on your neck, but you heard it, and he knew it. That was all that mattered.

He didn’t tell you his.

That was a few weeks ago, and no matter how busy you get, your head still turns every time the welcome bell chimes. You know better than to eagerly await for a stranger who you’ve fucked on several occasions and know nothing else about. It’s stupid, but in the litany of stupid decisions you’ve made over the years, this ranks pretty low.

And that’s saying something.

Exactly one month since your last sexual tryst, as you dig in your purse for your keys while walking to your car, you look up, key between your index and middle finger when you jump upon hearing your name.

Spinning around with the key lifted high, ready to be used in a defensive manner, your heart rate settles when you see it’s him. He’s leaning back against the brick, arms tucked in his pocket.

Closing your eyes, you place your hand over your chest and scold him. “Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me—“

“Your place.”

A couple of things cross your mind in that moment, the main one being that this bastard is insane. You don’t know shit about him, except for the fact that his stroke game is impeccable and his tongue is the 8th world wonder. Other than that, he is a complete stranger.

Him knowing where you work is one thing, him knowing and visiting where you lay your head at night is another.

There are some lines that you just cannot cross, and this one is bolded, italicized, underlined, and in red.

You can’t.

—

The door shuts, forcing the cheap wall key holder that you’d picked up from the local goodwill to shudder against the peeling wallpaper. In the distance, you can hear something else fall, no doubt breaking, but none of that pulls you off of him.

You moan into his mouth as he pushes you against the wall, his tongue dancing with yours. His hands move to your ass, tugging you into his crotch. You moan again, eyes fluttering sporadically.

How the hell you went from telling him to fuck off to having him minutes away from fucking you is beyond you. It’s also above you now.

Just how he’ll be in five minutes.

“Bedroom,” you murmur against his lip, waiting for him to loosen his grip. His shirt is scrunched in your hand as you lead him to your bedroom. It doesn’t take long, your one bedroom, one bathroom apartment can be explored in its entirety in less than five minutes.

You’re thankful that evening approaches and the light dims by the minute. Just as shining a light into your life would ward off any buyers, so would the light into your apartment.

He tosses you on the bed, and in seconds, you’re on your knees, helping him to pull his shirt off. Naturally, your hands roam his chest. As lighting has technically never been in abundance during the sex, you’re only able to feel areas of his skin that are raised. Scars. They tell a story. His story.

One you’ll never be told.

His hands are against your shoulders before you’re flat on your bed. He pulls your legs from underneath you and spreads them. Your fingers grasp at the button of your jeans as you unbutton them. Lifting your hips, you move quickly to slide them off, but he’s already ahead of you. They’re already tossed to the floor.

You sit up and remove your shirt when he once again shoves you back.

Looking down your body, you realize he’s already nude, dick rigid and leaking precum. Stomach coiling with anticipation, you lick your lips and close your eyes when he grabs you by your hips and tugs you down the bed.

“Fuck.” Your back once again arched off the full sized mattress as he grabbed your thighs, holding you against his mouth. Your hands grasped at the wall behind you, nails scraping as his tongue danced against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Once thing you’d learned was that he was a man of limited patience, when he wanted something, he wanted it now. Immediate gratification was his dominant preference, and you had zero complaints, because right about now, you wanted the same thing.

Your body wormed as a natural reaction towards his tongue exploring every bit of your pussy. Your clit attracted him the most, but he was generous in the regards that nothing was left untouched. He sucked with skill and hunger and something else you couldn’t pinpoint.

Eyes rolling in the back of your head, however, there wasn’t much you could focus on expect for the man between your legs, even if you tried.

At times, you became too frisky for him, and he’d move one hand to your core, holding you steady. His strength was inhuman. You hated when he did that, though, because your stomach would cave as your insides twisted. It was impossible not to shift away from him, especially when he expertly circled his tongue around your nub.

You could have sworn you felt him spelling something, perhaps your name, maybe even his.

Again, questions you’d never receive answers to.

You weren’t certain, but you got the feeling that he was motivated to continue to push you based on how your body responded to him. And every tryst had shown that you responded almost perfectly to the slightest of his touches. Everything he did wound you up, he got off to that. Maybe that’s why he never wanted you to reciprocate what you did for him, no matter how badly you wanted to.

He preferred to please, not be pleased.

Stars filtered the vision of your ceiling, and even those became blurred and grainy as that familiar feeling bubbled from the deepest part of you and exploded in a majestic display of pants, moans, and breathy profanities.

You were barely coherent as he trailed sticky kisses up your body, past your pupa, over your tummy, both breast, and finally, your mouth. Tasting yourself and him, you brought your hands to his cheeks holding him. You wanted to savor every second of this. He returned your passion, never breaking the kiss as he lined himself at your slick entrance.

You knew the question of readiness was nearing, and quite frankly, you weren’t for it. You wanted him, and you wanted him now.

Lifting your hips to speed up his entry, you nearly screamed when he slammed into you. You weren’t expecting it, but holy fuck, you loved it. You weren’t prepared for the rapid and consistent snapping of his hips into yours or the way his hands pinned yours down above your head, but you cherished it.

You felt every inch of him, every ridge of his dick, his balls slapping against the bottom of your ass. All of it. And you loved every second of this. You missed this. You missed him.

The latter realization took you for surprise as your eyes opened, where you were again surprised to find that he was looking directly at you. He was studying you, searching your face for any sign of pain, discomfort, or even dissatisfaction. He would find none.

He never would.

Your thighs tightened around him, and you saw him grit his teeth, his eyes momentarily shutting as he lowered over you. You tugged against his hold on your wrists, thankful when he released you. Your hands immediately went to his back, pulling him against you, your breast against his broad and muscular chest. Every inch of him was chiseled and defined, and you always felt the strength he possessed barely reaching its peak when you two fucked.

This time was no different.

You waited for the moment where his thrusts slowed just enough for you to switch positions, and when it arose, you wasted no time. He was suddenly under you, with you on top of him. Your hands planted on his chest as you rode him. Unlike his rapid pace, you settled for a slow and meticulous pace, gradually working your way up.

You were confident there was no way that you could match his speed, but that didn’t deter you from trying.

Selfishly, you didn’t bother to search his face for any sign of pleasure, too consumed in your own fantasy. Your hands moved from his chest to the wall as you moved to your toes to access a better angle, one that emitted a prolonged mixture of a moan and a groan.

While he was vocal only in the form of occasional profanities and infrequent breathing patterns, you were determined to let the whole building know that you were getting fucked, and you were getting fucked thoroughly.

A letter from your landlord would surely be awaiting for you in the next couple days.

None of that mattered, though.

You’re not sure how long you go at it, but you recognize what’s coming. And so does he. You’re briefly caught off guard when he sits up and holds you against his chest. Both of your mouth are parted, and he never tears his eyes away from you, even as bliss overcompensates will, and your eyes shut. Your teeth bite into your bottom lip, and you close your mouth to quiet your scream when you reach your climax, as you both reach your release.

As his warm seed spreads insides you and yours coats his bottom half, along with your bedding, your heavy breathing and sluggish body alerts you to just how fast and how hard you two were at it. Completely spent and unwilling to move, you fall on top of him, uncaring of the mess that coats you.

Besides, you expect him to carefully peel you off of him. Instead, you receive the opposite, he brings him arms around you, holding you against him.

Your eyes shut. A few minutes of silence fill the void until he fills it with a proclamation.

“I’m not what you need.”

For some reason, his statement causes you to smile. This is the most verbal he’s ever been with you, and you recognize that. You appreciate it.

You appreciate his honesty.

“And I’m not what you need,” you speak into his slick chest while he rubs circles on the small of your back. “But this is what we need.”

He says nothing.

A few minutes go by when you finally gather the courage to ask what you wanted to ask from the minute you saw him standing outside the bar. “You staying the night?”

He takes a few moments to answer, but it’s long enough for you to regret even asking. And then, he speaks.

“I can.”

His answer takes you by surprise. It’s not a no, and it’s technically not a yes, either. However, you recognize the optional aspect in his voice.

You don’t provide a verbal answer. You simply cradle your face into his neck, sighing at the calming feeling of him still being inside you.  

You know he won’t be there when you open your eyes, and that’s okay. He’s here now, and while you don’t know for certain, but you’re confident that he’ll be back.

And that is what allows you to peacefully close your eyes and succumb to slumber.

[thiswasinevitableid]

For the meet ugly prompts, 02 indruck?

Here you go! I went SFW on this one and interpreted the prompt kind of broadly. It's set in the same world as this Sternclay prompt

Fun fact: there is a fire lookout in the Monogahela, but the structure I describe is based on more elaborate ones elsewhere

02. I bought a house three months ago but I’m finally moving in and discover you’ve been squatting because you’re homeless

Only in Duck’s life would “dream job” and “months alone in the woods” be equivalent.

The Bickle Nob Fire Lookout is a coveted position, and Duck is pretty fucking flattered they chose him as the ranger for July and August. He took the high clearance off-roader to get here, he’s got his bags full of everything he needs not to die of boredom (or anything else) and his schedule of supply drops. He’s as ready as can be and so fucking excited when he opens the door of the wide-windowed cabin.

Then he jumps back, startled to find a skinny, silver-haired man asleep on the floor.

“Uh, sir? This site is off-limits to visitors.”

The man wakes up in a series of catastrophic movements; he bangs into the wall, tangles in his blanket, and nearly stumbles out the window when he manages to stand.

“I, I’m sorry, I didn’t foresee anyone coming here.”

“Department spent all of June arguin’ about whether it was worth allocatin funds for this, so that’s why the place was empty. Fire up North two weeks ago scared ‘em enough to send me up here.” Duck explains with a casual smile; after all, even if he’s way off the trail, there’s no reason to assume this guy is out to cause trouble, “if you got lost hikin, I’m happy to radio down and ask for someone to come get you and take you back to your camp.”

“Nono, I, ah, I’m not lost. One needs to have a destination to be lost.”

“O-kay. Uh, well, whatever you’re lookin for, I’m afraid this ain’t it. This buildin is for the fire lookout only.”

“I promise I’ll be very unobtrusive. I even have my own supplies, you won’t have to worry about me in the slightest.” The man smiles,opening one of his two bags to show it crammed with shiny packets of food.

Duck shakes his head, “Can’t do it, sorry. I’m serious though, if you need a ride into town I can get a hold of someone who can help. Maybe, uh, you could find whatever you’re lookin for there?”

“No” the man sags, but begins zipping up his bags, “I do not think I will find it there. I am sorry for intruding.” He steps out the door, turning towards the deeper woods on the western slope.

“You need a map?” Duck calls. The man doesn’t so much as look over his shoulder.

Duck unpacks as much as he can, checks the weather station and notes the readings suggest those thunderheads on the far horizon are coming his way. By dinnertime, they’re right on top of him, rain pattering on the roof and thunder rattling the windows. He’s scanning the trees when he spots a metallic flash, not of lightning but of silver hair. His mystery visitor is huddled under a tree, wind forcing the hood of his raincoat back over and over again.

The rules and regulations in the forest are there to keep the environment and visitors safe. If something doesn’t violate those basic requirements, Duck sees no reason not to bend them.

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

“I really cannot stress how grateful I am that you allowed me back in.” The visitor, who introduced himself as Indrid, finishes packing their scant trash into the can, “I promise that as soon as the storm passes I’ll leave you be.”

“Yeah, about that.” Duck scratches the back of his neck, “you really don’t got anywhere to call home, do you?”

Indrid opens his mouth. Duck stares, pointedly, at the holes in his white shirt and the worn shoes sticking out from frayed jeans.

“....No, I do not.”

“In that case, you stay here the next two months, on two conditions: one, you don’t get in the way of me doin what I’m here to do. Two, you don’t tell anyone I let you do this. Deal?”

“Yes, yes absolutely” Indrid shakes his hand, bouncing up and down a bit, “thank you so much. You will barely know I’m here.”

This turns out to be completely true and utterly false.

Indrid does keep to himself most of the day; he draws, reads, lays in the sun outside the cabin and generally stays out of Ducks way while he’s working. But he’s also the person who sits and jokes with him during meals, who eagerly follows Duck’s hand when he points out interesting birds or plants, and watches intently when Duck reads his instruments.

He never thought he could live in a fifteen by fifteen foot space with another person and not have a full head of grey by the end of it. Indrid Cold is the exception that proves the rule, Duck certain he’ll never be able to be cooped up with anyone but Indrid ever again.

It helps that he still gets his quiet time; Indrid will got out for walks, even watches for smoke so Duck can do the same. They use the wild foraging guide and Duck’s knowledge of local plants to bring back extra food. Indrid was particularly pleased when he located some wild blackberries. When Duck reminded him to watch out for bears near the berry patch, Indrid simply smirked and said there was only one bear on the mountain who could get him.

Duck’s daydreaming of what Indrid might do if caught on his way back from a dusk walk. And, more urgently, how he can convince Indrid that he wants to sleep outside tomorrow night. So it takes two tries of the front door before he notices it’s locked.

“Indrid?” he knocks, “you in there?” Stepping back, he finds the windows hastily covered by his bedsheets and blankets. He knocks harder, “that’s real fuckin dangerous, if there’s a fire we won’t see it. ‘Drid! Open the damn door!”

He continues banging, unanswered, as the moon--two days from full--rises above.

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

Indrid covers his ears to block out Duck’s increasingly worried shouts from outside. This is the right choice, the best of a bad bunch; it will keep Duck and anyone else nearby safe. The ranger will probably turn him away come morning, rightly furious at his irrationality. Indrid resolves not to argue with him; he’ll slink back into the trees, just like he did the last time someone threw him out for his transgressions.

It starts in his chest, his heartbeat climbing to marathon speeds in spite of him holding still. Then his skin prickles, silver hair sprouting from every follicle, followed by his back bowing in pain and his jaw elongating with a crack. From there the adrenaline kicks in, flooding his body so the transformation doesn’t render him unconscious (and therefore helpless) with pain. When next he raises his head, a werewolf with glowing, red eyes looks back at him from the darkened windows.

Beyond the covered windows, someone howls. Then he scents it, another of his kind coming dangerously close. He has to go out, he can’t leave Duck out there with something that will rip him apart, surely he likes the human enough for his mind to see him as a friend, not prey-

CRACK

The door splinters off its hinges; he growls, ready to defend his home. A deeper growl answers him as a larger wolf, black-furred and yellow eyed, stalks across the threshold.

“What. the. Fuck?” the newcomer snaps, “I told you, you can only stay if you don’t fuck up my work and locking me out comes real fuckin close to that!”

He cocks his head “Duck?”

“No, I’m the fuckin president of the united states.”

“I, I’m so sorry.” Indrid drops to all fours, then flattens to his belly just to be safe, “I didn’t know, I just wanted to be sure I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Duck points to the broken door, “you coulda just done that from the opposite side and I woulda been dinner.”

“No I, I know that if I confine myself I tend to be...calmer. I don’t get overstimulated and then agitated.”

“You coulda just told me. Lockin me out is real rude.”

Indrid whines, crawls close enough to nose at him.

“You don’t gotta do that; I ain't assertin dominance or some shit, I’m just a little annoyed.”

He whines again, “please don’t make me leave.”

“I won’t.” Duck’s voice turns softer.

“And you will not get angry at me for not being appropriately grateful for your leniency?”

Duck frowns, “Aw jesus, did you come from one of those old-school packs?

“Yes” Indrid grumbles, hating himself for how easily he fell into manners he loathes, how deep the teachings of his home run.

Duck eases him up so they’re both sitting, then noses the side of his face, “We don't do that around here. Least, I don't. I don’t spend a ton of time with most of the other Weres when they’re wolfed-out, but they ain’t big on tradition and hierarchy the rest of the time.”

“Ah. That’s, that’s good.”

The other Were stretches, stands and pads about the room, removing the make-shift curtains, “You gotta teach me how you’re so fuckin accurate on when the moon is full enough to make us shift whether or not we want to; I thought I had a day left. I, uh, I was gonna ask you to sleep in here while I ‘slept under the stars’ so you wouldn’t know.”

“You’re not afraid of hurting someone?”

“Nah, especially not this far out. Sometimes I hunt deer, but whatever strain of this I got doesn’t go feral unless some shit goes majorly wrong.” He drops the blankets on the floor, “don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like huntin tonight. Or stargazin. I’m beat from work.”

“Agreed. Transforming against my will always makes me tired.”

Duck lays down on the floor,yawns, “In that case: sleep tight ‘Drid.”

Indrid tries to do just that. But every time he catches Duck’s scent he wishes he could move closer to him, then remembers that would be rude, and continues in that back and forth until he’s wide awake. It doesn’t help that his Were form runs cold; he’s shivering in spite of it still being close to eighty degrees.

His ears flick at Duck’s footfalls. Then a warm, bulky frame curls around his freezing, lanky one.

“This okay?” Duck carefully drapes an arm over him.

Indrid sighs, feeling safer than he has in a year, “better than.”

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

“I’m a seer.”

Duck looks up from his breakfast, mouth full but question clear.

“Last night, you asked me how I knew we’d transform. Seeing the future makes it rather easy.”

“Damn, that does sound handy.”

“In many ways it is. Though it carries some, ah, some downsides.” Indrid steers his thoughts towards safer paths, “If you’d like, I could use it to help you with the fire lookout.”

The ranger grins, the expression twice as warm as his fur the night before, “That’d be fuckin great.”

Indrid smiles back, keeps his eyes on the windows so as not to look longingly back at the rumpled sheets. They awoke this morning in a heap, Duck’s modesty preserved only by a blanket and Indrid’s hair stuck in all directions. He’d been ready to apologize for not moving away before dawn, but Duck simply reached out, stroked his hair down, and asked if he wanted coffee.

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

“You’re right, you can see more animals this way.” They’re perched, fully transformed, on the rocks outside the cabin. Indrid knows how to use his night vision for hunting, but Duck is teaching him how to use it for more peaceful matters.

“Yeah, long as you stay put most animals get up the nerve to nose around some.”

They’d transformed side by side, Duck banging his head in the process. Indrid licked near the bruise and made soothing, sympathetic sounds when Duck whined and cursed his luck. Back home, being demonstrative was frowned upon; here, Duck seems to always be casually bumping their bodies together.

When they go to bed several hours after moonrise, they curl up side by side without hesitation. It’s so very easy to tune out his visions when Duck is near and Indrid falls asleep while the ranger is still whispering about the birds they can hear.

He wakes up an hour later in a panic, disasters of visions past tearing through his mind.

“‘Drid? What’s wrong?” Duck noses the base of his neck.

“Nothing. Just a bad dream.” He closes his eyes, tries to focus on Duck’s scent, his breath, the wind in the trees, but still the ghosts of his memories lurk in the corners of his vision.

“Can I try somethin?” Duck murmurs. Indrid thought he’d gone back to sleep.

“Of course.”

Teeth tenderly and ever so carefully clamp the fur and skin of his neck. He goes limp in one breath. He was high status enough that no one ever did this to him, but goodness does he wish they had

The ranger let’s go, “Do I need to do it again?”

“Please.”

Duck obliges and Indrid whimpers, melting shamelessly in his arms.

“Thank you. I think I can sleep now.”

“Any time, ‘Drid. Uh, before you, uh, go to sleep there’s somethin I wanna ask you. Since you need a place to stay, do you, uh, wanna stay with me? In Kepler.”

“You’d really like that? You, if this is out of pity-”

“It ain’t.”

There were no futures where it was. Indrid wanted to hear the words all the same.

“Besides” Duck nuzzles him, “we already know we make damn good roommates.”

Indrid can’t help it; he howls, brief and joyful, safe in the knowledge that Duck will be ready with a laugh and a kiss in reply.

[watcherfenix]

A Vent long time coming

It feels like it has been ages since I wrote anything.  There is so much I wanna write and comment on, simply hard to pin just one idea down. So, in sticking with the theme of vulnerable journey treading and wanting my experiences to help someone out there. I am going to decompress the last years and possibly go into more at a later date. I have been in limited contact with people for close to 3 years. This is due to moving to a new country compounded with COVID, which killed many attempts at being social. Coupled with that polite racism of Canada and recovering from a very traumatic breakup, have been in a low place. Also, in transition for a work visa which has been slowed due to COVID. Depression and PSTD make leaving the place is a chore and a constant mental battle. I was able to do a year of college in a small-town university. Learned a lot and nothing all at once. Learned about myself. Learned about my own Blackness (and still learning). Of course, this caused me to look at my life experience through a new lens as if pages have been restored in a tattered book. Seeing how my old, colonized self parroted some toxic garbage and did some” ignorant passable shit “that I wished I had never said or did. Angry at my parents for trying so hard to “protecting “me from my own Blackness. Leaving me under-prepared for the world I was going to be a part of. Instead, my father tells me as an adult, I am ungrateful and “raised by wolves,” and I told him I hated him. Pissed that he presented his side of the family as dangerous, volatile and “ghetto” and that being gay and black was asking for a short life in the family. Causing me to be averse to wanting to meet them.   But with time, I will be able to accept “all of me.” By learning another country’s history, I realized I was on the wrong side of history. Referring to my time in the military and playing a role in destabilizing the Middle East (something the US military has quite a long track record of doing). This affects me in a couple of different ways. First, being a part of pain and suffering on such a grand scale goes against who I believe. Secondly, knowing that it is a family legacy (father being a weapons contractor after being retired Air Force and had a few generals in the family too). Lastly, I lost friends and a lover to the machine known as the military-industrial complex. And knowing that the government is getting worse makes their deaths sting a bit more than I care to admit. Thinking about my time in the military fills me with bittersweet memories now tinged with some guilt and shame. While I had stewed in these thoughts for long periods of time. Slowly getting comfortable with these truths. Only to be slammed with the ugliness that is America’s racism. Seeing white friends during BLM and all that led up to it go silent or worse, shit on the idea of BLM. Gay community leeches off black culture while making claims of being inclusive makes me want to rage cry. Seeing so much Racism and colorism in communities I used to call these spaces, my home is now quite repulsive . I was hoping for too much, wanting my communities to be supportive. Genuinely supportive, helping people because it is right, not causes it's trending.  Wish POC communities would stop internalizing and perpetuating hate and start lifting each other up. Instead of determining “blackness” and gender roles. It has been absolutely heartbreaking to see so many people passing in such a short time frame. I am reminded of my older friends sharing their tales of the AIDs crisis and survivals guilt. I feel weird knowing these people for a while online, just too sudden.. they are gone. I develop a connection with these people but feel I cannot claim it because other people that knew them spent time with them in real life. Deep down, there is a feeling that my connection is less than because I am unable to meet these people. I do not fully subscribe to this idea, but every time another FB friend or friend dies, it comes to my mind. And I honestly do not know what to do with it. Though the thought of friends that have pass makes me feel things. I cannot help but mourn the relationships lost because of my selfishness, drugs, or toxic relationships before people I called my family. The concept of family seems and feels so foreign to me now, yet I still hunger for one.  My parents and sister's relationship was polarizing and taking a toll on my mental wellness.  But cutting ties with them does not make me feel better. Sure enough, feel guilty and ashamed because of some internal nagging feeling I needed to try harder to work things out. Must remember why I had to cut ties with them. I had to, being with them caused me so much emotional and spiritual pain, I would later choose homelessness than ask for their help again. Yet, I still love them just do not want them in my life or do not want to share my life with them anymore. Does not make processing the loss of my bio family any easier. It does feel more correct than sticking with them. I wish I were a better friend. I often feel like a failing friend. I regret missing so many chosen family life events. Missed both of my brother’s weddings a few people’s graduations. Burned a lot of bridges protecting people that were later discovered to be trash. Wish I could send messages to say I am sorry. Just feel too much has either happen or too much time has gone by to bring it up now. The feelings and thoughts build up so much that it stresses me out and becomes intrusive thoughts shaming me out of evening trying. And having been burned by so many shitty relationships, feel less like... me. More like a by-product of all the lessons I learn. A by-product that is very wary of trying to make new friends or form new relationships. To be honest, I struggle with who I am and have been struggling with my self-image for three years now. So, trying to attempt new friendships seem out of my depths. Trying to be compassionate and kinder to myself …. when... I feel I need to be better and stronger than average. Sadly, I am my own worse jailer and serving life sentences for things that I just do not know why anymore. My brain gets so loud feels like my brain is grated with sandpaper. Depression, shitty world events, insomnia and PTSD, have caused me to disassociate to the point time has no meaning to me and staying in the moment is getting harder to do. Battling the idea that this is a dream or this reality is unreal. I really dislike being dissociative like this, reminds me too much of when I was doing meth and how quickly the time went by and how time was filled up with all other manners of things. Also reminds me of the time I almost cut myself to discern between reality and dreams. Grateful I have my husband to keep me grounded. He makes me smile when I am down. Somedays, he is the only thing keeping me here. My mind is full, and my heart is heavy. The road is long and the burden heavy, but I will be moved forward in some way. Thank you for your time, love

Fenix

[americancowgirl19]

She’s the Alpha - Part One

Series Summary: Gen and Y/n have been together since they were in high school. They’re true mates. Only problem is that they’re both female and are unable to satisfy the other’s heat/rut. When Gen gets a job on Supernatural they meet Alpha Jensen and his Omega Jared.

Part Summary: By the time you turned 18 you have gone through two life changing events. The first being when you presented as an alpha. The second is when you found your omega.

Warnings: Y/n treated like an OC, cursing, bullying/harassment, homophobia, angst, fluff, abuse, hint at smut/intimacy, light girl on girl,

Reader: Alpha Female Reader

Pairings: Alpha Female Reader x Omega Genevieve, Eventual Alpha Jensen x Omega Jared x Alpha Female Reader x Omega Genevieve

Word Count: 5,662

A/n: Jensen and Jared won’t show up until the next part. This chapter is character background and a lot of Gen x Reader. Possibly a 15 part series!

Masterlist

Part Two

Presenting

The weeks prior to presenting were tense to say the least. You felt as if everyone was testing your patience, especially your twin brother, Ashton. You withdrew from your friends and family. The last thing you wanted was to get into screaming matches with your parents like Ash had been doing.

Despite the obvious signs, nobody expected you to present as an alpha. Female alphas are much rarer than male omegas. Although, presenting as an omega didn’t seem likely either. You were stronger willed than the omegas your family interacted with. Becoming a beta is what was expected of you. Albeit, doing what was expected of you was never really your thing.

Frankly, you would rather be a beta than an alpha. Your family held alpha’s to a higher standard compared to beta’s and omega’s. A standard you didn’t care to be held to. To be honest, your family was ridiculous when it came to alphas.

However, all thoughts of an easy going beta life flew out the window on your 16th birthday. Finally, the moodiness and the short fuse you had recently acquired made sense. 

To say that this complicated things is an understatement. Presenting as an alpha completely changed your world. One day you were the girl who remained unseen in the background. Now, you’re the girl trying to survive your alpha father and alpha brother. Three alpha’s under one roof is recipe for disaster.

Senior Year

“I cannot wait until I can pack up and leave this place in my rear view mirror,” Ash grumbles walking beside you down the road. The further the two of you walked from home the less weight seemed to be on your shoulders.

“You need a car to have a rear view mirror,” You tease him while keeping a watchful eye on your younger siblings a little ways in front of you. Ash rolls his eyes and shoves his hands in his pockets. “All I want is to get out of that damn house. I don’t care where I go,” You comment with a small shrug.

It didn’t matter if you moved into the house next door or in an apartment on the other side of the world. As long as you weren’t under your parents roof, you would be happy. You craved independence. You craved separation from your parents. Yet you didn’t want to be too far from your siblings but at the same time you didn’t mind putting more distance between you and them.

“I’m not going to be able to listen to dad’s bullshit for very much longer,” You hum in agreement. You remember a time when your dad had been your hero. Now, you couldn’t wait to get as far as possible from the man.

Your father made it his mission to make you and your brother the toughest alpha’s in town not only mentally but physically as well. He’s even tried to make you both arrogant assholes, like typical alpha’s, with all his ‘alpha’s are above others’ speeches. 

There was also a point in time when your father had tried to pin you and your brother against each other. You hated to admit that it worked for almost an entire year before the two of you figured out that you were stronger when you had each others backs.

“We just have to make it through graduation,” You tell him.

“Yeah,” Ash scoffs. “Another ten damn months,”

“No one said it was gonna be easy,” 

A couple minutes later you were at the school. Your two younger siblings had dashed off but you didn’t care. You made sure they got to school, your job was over.

The moment you entered the high school you sensed something was different. You didn’t know what it was and tried to ignore the feeling but it was damn near impossible.

You caught yourself looking around as you and Ash walked to your lockers. You didn’t know what you were looking for but assumed you would know when, or if, you found it.

“Do you know if anyone presented alpha recently?” You ask your brother.

“God, I hope not,” Ash groans closing the door. “The last thing we need is another damn alpha walking around,”

There’s three other alphas in your school, excluding you and your brother. One of the alpha’s, Julian, is chill and keeps to himself. The other two, however, are always competing for top dog. The last thing this school needed was yet another alpha to add into the mix.

“Why do you ask?” Ash asks, the two of you walking to your first class.

“I don’t know,” You sigh. “I just feel like something’s different,” Ash glances at you but doesn’t say anything.

All throughout the day you felt on edge. Ash could pick up on your tenseness causing his own mood to turn more alert. It wasn’t until the end of the day did you find the answer to why the both of you were so apprehensive.

You and Ash were at your lockers preparing to leave school. Ash was suggesting that you went to The Dutch, a local bar and grill. It had been a long and tense day, the last thing he wanted to do was go straight home where the environment is even more stressful.

You muttered a response not really listening to what he was saying. Ash talked 90% of the day, whether you were in class or not, and you had learned to tune him out. Instead of paying attention to Ash, your eyes were trained down the hall. In the corner stands a shorter girl with beautiful, long, dark hair. She had your complete attention from the moment you laid eyes on her.

Unfortunately, you weren’t the only one with eyes on her. Andrew, one of the schools asshole alpha’s, had her in his sights. The moment he came into your eye sight you knew what he was planning. The thought of him even standing next to her angered you.

“Y/n, where are you going?” Ashton questions when you suddenly walk away. You don’t answer him. He grumbles but quickly follows after you. It wasn’t until you got closer to the girl did you realize that she’s an omega.

“I’m not interested,” She tells Andrew. You ignore the affect that her voice has on you.

“Not yet but I can change your mind,”

“What is it with you morons and not understanding the meaning of the word ‘no’?” You ask, gaining Andrew’s attention. He turns toward you. His eyes flicker from you to Ashton, who’s standing behind you. “No, means, no, asshole,” Andrew glares at you trying to be intimidating. However, you weren’t intimidated by boys trying to be men.

“Why don’t you just move along?” Andrew suggests, wanting to continue talking to the omega but also wanting to avoid you and Ash. “I’m trying to have a conversation with her,”

“You’re not exactly conversation material,” The girl speaks up. Your gaze, along with Andrew’s, returned to the smaller girl. She spoke to Andrew before her eyes flickered to you. The moment your eyes met, a small small comes to your lips. “The last thing I want to do is lose IQ points,” She comments, looking back at Andrew. She adjusts her bookbag on her shoulders and tries to talk around him but he quickly grabs her arm. The smile that had come to your face quickly washed away when you saw Andrew grab her as roughly as he had.

His hand only held her arm for a fraction of a second before you had removed it. Your hand grabbed his wrist tight enough to leave a nasty bruise. You twisted his arm until he was forced to release her and slammed him against the lockers. 

Andrew easily got out of your grip but before things could escalate Ashton jumps between the two of you. Ash knew you could handle yourself against Andrew but he also didn’t want a fight breaking out. A fight would send you to the principle which would force your father to get involved which would end in a situation neither of you wanted to be in.

“Just walk away,” Ashton advices Andrew. “We wouldn’t want a repeat of Junior year, would we?” Andrew growls stepping forward but a teacher speaks up before anything could happen.

“Life would have been much simpler if I had just been a beta,” The girl whispers under her breath. You hummed in agreement. Your eyes glancing to her when you’re confident Andrew wasn’t going to attack your brother. “Thanks,” She says, looking up at you.

“You look like you could handle yourself,” You tell her with a small smile. She blushes a bit which causes your heart to soar. The longer you stood beside her the less confident you became. Not many people made you nervous but this girl could make you weak to the knees with a single glance.

“Genevieve,” She introduces herself. She holds her hand out and you stare at it for a moment. Ash gives you a gently shove which snaps you out of your haze. Gen giggles a bit when you hand reaches out and grips her tightly. “But you can call me Gen,” She giggles again when you shake her hand quickly.

“Gen,” You whisper, smiling softly. “Oh, uh, Y/n,” You stutter while releasing her hand with a blush. “That’s uh... that’s my name,” You hand brushes through your hair.

“I figured,” Gen continues to smile at you. “It’s nice to meet you,”

Date Night

“How does this look?” You ask, your younger sister. 

“Like you’re trying too hard,” Naomi comments, hanging upside down on the edge of your bed.

“Really? I think I look cute,” You say standing in front of you full length mirror. You were wearing a nice dress. It’s the most feminine thing you’ve worn in a long time.

“You’re only going to the movies,” She tells you. “Besides, it doesn’t really look like you. You should wear some leggings and that cute jacket you got last month,”

“I’m with Naomi on this,” Ash says, walking into your room. You sigh but give in knowing they were more corradiated than you.

“If he coming to pick you up?” Naomi asks shifting onto her stomach when Ash sits beside her. You share a look with your twin.

“Uh, no,” You shake your head. “I’m meeting them at the movies,” You say carefully.

Ash is the only one that knows you were going on a date with a girl. On top of that it’s an omega that had asked you out. You could only imagine the shit show that would happen if your father found out. He would go on and on about how you needed to be with a man. Once he got past that he would tell you how un-alpha-like it is to be asked out by an omega. You, being the alpha, were the one who was supposed to ask the omega out.

You knew your younger siblings wouldn’t care but they also couldn’t keep a secret. The only concern your mother would have is the fact that she wouldn’t be able to satisfy your ruts and you wouldn’t be able to satisfy her heats. It wouldn’t be a problem now, or any time soon, but down the road you would need someone to help you. 

You didn’t ant to think about that right now. You just want to have fun with Gen. You liked her a lot. You could run your hands through her soft hair all day. She smelled as if she had come straight from heaven. Her skin also felt very smooth and perfect against yours. 

From the moment you two met you had grown to be very close. You would stay close during school and after school you would be together at her home. Her family was much more relaxed and open than yours.

The two of you had been cuddling in her bed while watching your favorite movie when she asked you out on a date. It had caught you off guard but you accepted.

Almost everything Gen did caught you off guard, in a good way. She was so unlike any omega you had met. She was outgoing and blunt. She could hold her own and didn’t need an alpha to cling too. She didn’t need you but she wanted you. You tended to be on the more reserved side but being around Gen brought you out more.

“What movie are you seeing?” Naomi asked. You answered all her questions as you finished getting ready. Ash picked out your shoes while Naomi helped with your makeup. You didn’t wear much makeup but a little bit to stand out.

“Good luck,” Ash says, helping you leave without being noticed by your parents. Your parents knew you were leaving but you didn’t want to go through 20 questions with them.

“Thank,” You smile at him before getting into your moms car and driving to the movies. You instantly found Gen. It was like there was this magnet on her that drew you to her. “You look amazing,” You compliment. She wasn’t wearing anything too fancy but it hugged her hips.

“Thank you,” She says before inspecting your new jacket. You did a spin causing her to grin even wider. “Adorable,” She says kissing your cheek causing you to blush. She links your arms and pulls you to the ticket booth with a little hop in her step. There you insisted, and won, on buying the ticket. She ended up buying the popcorn before the two of you took your seats.

Throughout the movie the both of you shared small, yet intimate, touches. You would hold hands or rest your hand on her thigh. Eventually you wrapped an arm around her. The touches only got worse when the movie was over and you drove her home. Her mother had dropped her off allowing you the opportunity to spend more time with her.

“Hey, Y/n?” Gen asks, glancing at you as you drive down the road. You hum sparing her a glance. “What happened junior year?” She asks.

“Can you be a little more specific?” You ask, with a small laugh. “Junior year was a long year,”

“Ash said something to Andrew about not wanting a repeat of Junior year... Remember?” Gen asks, your mind goes back to when you first noticed Gen. Gen and you have been in the same school for years but you didn’t truly notice her until she presented. When she did present she ended up being an omega. There’s only 7 omega’s in the school and of course she had caught Andrew’s attention.

“Junior year Ash, Andrew, and I were still pretty new at the whole alpha thing. We’re still not perfect but junior year our emotions and instincts were all over the place. At that time Ash and I weren’t talking. We were fighting constantly and it just wasn’t a good time for us.” You begin to explain to her. “Being an alpha our natural instinct is to be the alpha. It’s an instinct my father did everything he could to amplify,”

“Why?” Gen asks frowning her eyebrows. You let out a low sigh.

“My father expects Ash and I to be the top alpha in everything we do. One of the problems with that is that feeding into our newly heightened instincts with other alpha’s under the same roof only causes disruption and chaos. The three of us were constantly at each others throats and when we went to school Ash and I were still going at it but we were also going at Andrew as well,” Gen slowly nods not completely understanding but wanting to hear the rest of it. “One day Andrew and I came to blows. I think we were fighting over something like he had sat in my seat at the cafeteria.” You said not completely sure if that was true but it was close enough. “Anyways, Andrew is stronger and a better fighter, I didn’t really have a chance but I gave it my all. Ash saw what was happening and he jumped into the fight. The two of us could just tell what the other was about to do and we worked together fluently. Kicked Andrew’s ass,” You smirk a bit. “We not only asserted our dominance as head alpha’s in the high school but it’s the first time Ash and I started to mend our relationship and work together,”

“So, now you and Ash are ok?” Gen asks. “You two seem to get along great,”

“Yeah, it took us a while to get to where we are now but now it’s just natural,” You shrug. “It’s like I have this sixth sense when it comes to Ash and him to me. Sure we have our competitive streaks but it’s all good natured,” Gen smiles at you and you glance at her. “Did I tell you that you look beautiful tonight?” You ask.

“Maybe once or twice,” Gen smiles widely. You smirk pulling into her driveway.

“I had a really great-” You said, turning your head towards her. The instant you looked at her, her lips were on yours. The two of you had yet to get out of the car and had to lean over the middle console. 

Her lips were soft compared to your chapped ones. Her sweet scent seemed even more intense while kissing her. You wondered how she could get any more perfect. 

“I had a great time too,” Gen whispers pulling back. “And you look just as beautiful,” She winks at you.

You didn’t care what you had to do, you had to keep her. You’d known her a little less than four months yet you were completely smitten. You were in this for the long haul.

Caught

“Hi Gen!” Naomi shouts, when you and Gen enter the house. Gen barely greets her back before your little sister darts into the next room.

“Omi! Get back here, you little shit!” You other little sister, Haley, practically screams as she races after the youngest.

“Come on,” You place an innocent hand on Gen’s back. You gently push her towards your room. The two of you have been together for a couple of months and have successfully kept it from your parents and younger siblings. Honestly, if Naomi wasn’t so gullible, you would have been found out by now.

“Are your parents home?” Gen asks, you shake your head.

“No, probably won’t be for a while,” You tell her. You shut the bedroom door behind you.

“Good,” Gen smiles turning to you. You match her grin and pull her close. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you,” 

“No ones stopping you,” You whisper leaning down to connect your lips to hers. Gen cups the back of your neck and presses her hand against you chest as she leans into you. You tighten your grip around her waist. “You smell so good,” You whisper burying your head in her neck.

“Come on, we have to get started on this project,” Gen reminds you. You whine refusing to let her go. Gen laughs quietly and doesn’t attempt to leave your snug embrace.

“We can start tomorrow,” You whisper.

“Oh, no, we’re not procrastinating on this,” Gen says wiggling away from you causing you to pout. “Let’s get this started and then we can cuddle,”

“You drive a hard bargain,” You wink at her. Gen rolls her eyes and sits on your bed. You smirk and move in behind her. “Are you sure we can’t start a little later?” You ask, brushing all of her hair to one side. “Surely, we’re smart enough to get it done in a little bit,” Gen tilts her head a bit as your lips lightly press against her skin. “You’re certainly smart enough. You’re a junior in a senior science class,”

“It’s not that impressive,” Gen whispers. “There’s plenty of juniors in senior classes,”

“I’m lucky to be in the 12th grade, it’s impressive,” You tell her. “You’re so smart,” You praise. “So beautiful, kind and funny.. So talented,” Your lips travel up her neck as you hand gently grabs her chin. “So mine,” 

“Alpha,” Gen whines causing you to growl and press your lips to hers. She falls back on the bed and you shift follow after her. Your entire focus was on her that you didn’t even notice your father coming to your room to talk to you.

“Y/n-” He barely gets your name out when he opens your door. Your head pulls away from Gen’s quickly and snaps towards him. Both you and Gen tense. You father looks at you in shock but the shock quickly turns into anger. “What in the damn hell is going on here?!” He shouts. 

You and Gen jump off the bed. Your protective instincts kick in and you stand in front of her. She grips the back of your shirt. Her distress only amplifies your protectiveness. 

“I can explain-” You try to say but your father isn’t in a listening mood. You watch as his face begins to glow red and his eyes narrow.

“The fuck were you doing with her?!” Cyrus, your father, shouts. You knew that if you tried to lie it would only be worse. You had to come clean.

“I was kissing her... my girlfriend,” You add, quietly. A deep, threatening growl leaves his chest. Your hand reaches back to rest against Gen. The movement was not only to reassure you that she was behind you but an attempt to calm you down. Gen always had a calming affect on you but with your father radiating threatening vibes being calm is the last thing on your mind.

“Girlfriend?!” He shouts marching up to you. You growl back trying to warn him to stay back.

“Yes, girlfriend!” You shout back not liking being threatened. “She’s my girlfriend, my omega!”

“She’s a girl! She cannot be your omega!”

“She is,” You tell him clenching your fists. “I know she’s my omega, my true mate.” You state with absolute certainty. You knew that same sex true mates aren’t nonexistent but they certainly weren’t heard of.

“A female alpha is never mated to an omega female! It doesn’t work!” 

“It does. We work.” You insist. “She’s my girlfriend and I’m not letting her go,”

“Oh, yes you are. No daughter of mine will ever be with another girl! You’re an alpha, you need to be with a beta or male omega.”

At this point your family is gathering in the doorway. Your two little sisters were poking their heads in but mainly hiding behind the wall in the hallway. Your father took intimidation and scary to a whole new level when he’s angry. Even your mother was using the wall as a hiding spot. Your brother, however, was standing in the center of the doorway ready to help defend you and Gen if need be.

“Fuck who you think I’m supposed to be with,” You spit. “I want to be with Gen and she wants to be with me,” You growled. “And I’m not going to let you get in between us,”

“Y/n!” Gen shouts when your father grabs you shirt, rips you away from Gen and pins you against the wall. You growl slamming your head into his and manage to shove him away. He doesn’t go far but far enough for you to duck away and move from the wall.

“Alright, let’s just calm down!” Ash shouts getting between you and your father.

“Step down,” Cyrus, demands staring you twin brother down. Ash glares back fighting against the urge to move away. “I said, step down,” Cyrus snapped grabbing the back of Ash’s neck and tossing him to the side.

“Hey!” You shout shoving him away from your brother. 

However, tossing him from Ash made Cyrus get closer to Gen which you didn’t like. You held your hand out and Gen instantly comes to your side. Her fingers intertwine with yours. Her arm hugs your arm while she steps a bit behind you.

“I love Gen,” You tell him as he regains his stability. “I’m going to stay with her for as long as she’ll have me. There’s nothing you can do,” 

Cyrus steps toward you and lashes out. Gen whimpers holding you tightly as a stinging pain comes to your cheek. Before he could do anything else Gen is moving in front of you. She’s trembling despite the strong look she tries to display. Your heart swells at her trying to protect you but you didn’t want your father hurting her either.

“I won’t let you hurt her,” Gen whispers, pressing her back into your chest wanting to stay as far away from him but wanting to protect you as well. Cyrus is obviously taken back by Gen. Omega’s aren’t normally the ones protecting the alpha. In his eyes it’s just another disgraceful act while it only makes you fall more in love with her.

“You either get rid of Gen or you leave,” He tells you. Your heart drops. You knew he would be made but you never expected him to give you this ultimatum. You didn’t want to make the choice despite already know what you would choose.

“Dad, please,” You whisper moving back in front of Gen. “I love her and I love this family, please don’t make me choose,” You beg him. “I’m still your daughter, loving Gen doesn’t change that,”

“This is not how I raised you. This is not how an alpha is supposed to act.” Cyrus tells you. “This is unacceptable and I will not have you disgracing this family. Get rid of Gen or move out,” Cyrus says. He stands there for a moment before pushing past you and into the hall.

“Baby,” Gen whispers, moving in front of you. Your zoned out eyes focus on her. “I don’t want to get in between you and your family-”

“You are my family,” You whisper. “You’re my omega, I know you are,” You say confidently. “Am I your alpha?” You ask, trepidatiously. 

“Yes, you are,” Gen nods, caressing your cheek. Her eyes soften as she looks at your reddened cheek. “I just want you to be happy... I don’t want to take you from them,” She nods towards your brother, sisters and mother.

“I’ll talk to him, ok?” Molly, your mother, speaks up, coming up to you. You stare into Gen’s eyes for a moment before turning to her. “You are not disowned and you do not have to leave Gen,” Molly gives your girlfriend a smile.

“I don’t think I can stay here mom,” You tell her. “Even if you do talk him down, things are only going to keep getting worse. Him and Ash are already to a boiling point, this is only going to push all of us over the edge. I’m not staying,”

“I don’t know how I’m going to be able to stay either,” Ash growls.

“There’s only a couple more months, just avoid him,” You advice him.

“Easier said than done,” Ash grumbles still seething at the fact that Cyrus had attacked you, again.

“I’ll keep him from you, just don’t leave yet,” Molly pleads hating the fact that her mate is chasing her children away. Ash’s face softens slightly towards his mother. He sighs but nods agreeing to stay just a little longer for her sake. “Where will you go?” Molly asks, wanting to make sure you went somewhere safe.

“She can come with me,” Gen says. You open your mouth to object but she doesn’t let you. “My mother adores you, so do my siblings. They’d love to have you around,” Knowing you needed somewhere to go, you agree.

“I love you,” Molly whispers, hugging you when you made your decision. “I’ll talk to your father, you and Gen are always welcome here,” She promises.

Claiming

“Happy birthday, baby,” Gen whispers waking you up with her light kisses. You smile snuggling into her chest. She grins holding your larger figure the best she could.

“Skip school,” You mumble. “Spend the day with me,” Gen smiles kissing the top of your head.

You and Gen have been together for over a year. You’ve graduated high school while Gen is halfway through her senior year. The two of you lived in Gen’s mother’s home. You’ve lived there since your father kicked you out.

Your mother stayed true to her word and talked to him. It took him months to even talk to you and even longer to invite you back. You never accepted his offer. The two of you had a very tense relationship and you didn’t want to go back to living under his roof with his rules.

The second you and Ash graduated, Ash moved out. He moved out of the house and out of the state. You still talk daily but you hadn’t seen him in a little bit. However, you felt happy knowing that he’s happy and much more relaxed.

While you would rather move out of this small town you were happy to be with Gen. Her mother and siblings absolutely adored you. Her two brothers were beta’s while her sister and mother were omega’s. 

Having you, an alpha, around brought a sense of peace to the household. Your presence comforted the other omega’s. They felt more relaxed, more secure with you around than before you moved in. It didn’t matter that you were only romantically involved with Gen, you were still an alpha and they were still omega’s. Your presence comforted them in a way beta’s, like the brothers, couldn’t quite understand.

It took a while to gain the brother’s trusts but when they realized how much weight lifted off of their mother’s shoulders with your company and how you protective you were of the sister’s you quickly gained their approval.

At your family home you were constantly fighting to be alpha. Here, however, you quickly earned the position of alpha when you gained their trust. Gen’s mother still mothered her children but you looked after Gen’s sister and helped pay the bills while making sure the other alpha’s left the family alone.

“You, Y/n Y/l/n, are a very bad influence,” Gen whispers causing you to smirk.

“You love it,” You breathed against her neck. Gen shivers feeling your hot breath against her cool skin making you grin even wider.

“I love you,” She whispers. You lift your head and look at her through hooded eyes.

“I love you too,” You whisper puckering your lips. She giggles.

“Lazy,” She whispers, connecting your lips. “We need to brush our teeth,” She murmurs against your lips.

“We can be nasty together,” You whisper pushing her onto her back. Gen relaxes under you as your lips reconnect. Her moans encourage you to kiss her deeper.

“I want to be yours,” Gen whispers, you kiss down her neck towards her chest.

“You are mine,” You say. “Just as I’m yours,” 

“Y/n,” She whispers. You lips gently pepper kisses down her chest. “Y/n,” She says sternly.

“Yes, baby?” You lift your head pinching your eyebrows at the serious look on her face.

“I want to be yours,” She stresses. It takes a moment for her words to sink in.

“Mine?” You asks and she nods biting her lip. You lean over her and press your forehead against hers. “You sure, baby? There’s no going back, no getting rid of me,” You remind her. Gen smiles gently caressing the side of your face.

She knew that ever since your father completely turned his back to you that you had developed a fear of abandonment, a fear of people pretending to want you only to change their minds. You didn’t want to trap Gen with you. You worried that down the road she wouldn’t want you and if you claimed her she wouldn’t be able to leave causing her to be unhappy. It’s the main reason you hadn’t claimed her yet.

“I love you. I want you, no one else. Please, alpha,” You eyes darken and a low growl comes from your chest. She begins to whine amplifying her scent. Your head ducks down to her neck. You breath in her sweet smell. “Please, mark me, Alpha. Please,” She begs slowly breaking your resolve. “I want to be yours, completely and forever. I don’t want no one else,” You could sense her desperation begin to rise.

“Shh, omega, I’ve got you,” You whisper, trying to soothe her. “I’ll mark you, I’ll make you mine forever,” Gen smiles, slowly relaxing. “Only if you mark me, as well,” Gen’s eyes widen.

“Are you sure?” She whispers, you nod pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“100%... If you’re going to be mine and bare my mark, I want to be yours with your mark,” Gen slowly grins and nods.

“Ok,” She whispers. You grin and press your lips to hers.

“You’re perfect, Genevieve,” You whisper, moving your lips back to her neck. “Everything I could ever want,” Gen smiles, pulling your shirt over your head.

“Alpha, please, I need you,” She whines, clawing at your back.

“I’m right here, ‘mega... I’m right here,” You whisper, soothingly.

“Mark me, please,” She begs.

“Patience,” You whispers, a smirk on your lips. Your hands unclothe her before your eyes memorize every inch of her body. You couldn’t believe the woman in underneath you is going to be yours forever. Gen smiles, a light blush on her cheeks and her teeth chewing her lower lip.

“Alpha,” She whines, pulling you close. “Please,” You gently begin peppering her neck. You can feel her heartrate skyrocketing and her breathing escalate. 

“You’re gonna be all mine, baby girl,” You whisper nipping at her neck.

“Please,” She whimpers pressing her neck against your lips. She gasps, your teeth dig into her neck. “Alpha,” She cries.

“All mine,”

@akshi8278​

[softandweto]

Help

I know I should put this up somewhere else, but I can’t. Tumblr is my only option and I need all the help I can get right now please.

I had to make a GoFundMe because there’s nothing else I can do. Please spread the word and the link is right here. I’ll be putting the same info in the GoFundMe under the Read More for those who want information up front.

Hello, I hope this finds any who visit well. Before I get into the reason for me making this, I’d like for you all to know how we got here.

My name is Xenia and my boyfriend and I have been living together for nearly a year now. At the beginning, things were going very well. We both had a stable income, and while that trailer was not the best place, we were secure and didn’t have to worry much about finances. Then, March came around and Covid hit us hard. I lost my job as a Teaching Assistant for Special Education, and my boyfriend’s job got more dangerous as a Med Tech working in a nursing home. I was unable to find a job for months, and things were starting to take a bad turn. 

We had some friends living in the state next over who had offered the both of us to move in with them. My boyfriend would have to go back to CNA work, however, as that would be the only license of his that could transfer to the state. My license as a Teaching Assistant was originally for that state, so it seemed to be perfect. After weighing all our options, we decided to make the move and take the risk.

Once again, things were looking well. We both got a new job within the month, and only had to worry about paying a combined $600/month outside of our car payments. With all this, we were able to put up with a lot of things. A majority of the house leaving the place in disarray for the both of us to handle. The racism that we didn’t catch up on until the end. The disregard for my dogs and their health. The fact that, despite how behind the house supposedly was on bills, they could afford to continue to finance new furniture and electronics while we could barely afford to pay the rent and our own food. We could put up with it because we were with friends. No way they would do all this on purpose.

Eventually, after two months of living there, it became too much and they used every excuse possible to force us out of their home and ostracized us. Suddenly, we were the issue. It was our fault their dishes continued to pile up. It was our fault they felt too anxious to leave their rooms. All their problems were now because of us. We had no other choice to move in with my mom and my brother in our old state. Once again, we were out of jobs and couldn’t find work no matter where we looked. I eventually found a job as a server again, but he was unable to find any work despite his CNA credentials.

When October came around, I was working full time for a server minimum wage, while my boyfriend had finally gotten some good news and was starting to work. We scrimped and saved for two months and were finally able to get enough to get our own home. A trailer in a small suburb just outside town was freeing up early December. At first, the price for the rent seemed impossible to make. But, I had received an email from a work from home position I applied for. Early January, I would be starting with them for more than minimum wage.

Things were finally coming into place. Things were once again looking up and we could taste the stability. Then, after a week of being moved in, we decided to enjoy a meal together made in our own home. All the stress, all the craziness we had put up with, it was worth it. But, we couldn’t taste our food. We started noticing the coughs when we were moving, but didn’t think much of it till then. We got tested, and our fears proved to be true. We had Covid.

It was brutal. It felt like suddenly we’d lose everything. The two weeks we spent in quarantine was like our own personal hell scape. Within the first week I was notified they were training someone else to take over my Shift Lead position. A title more than anything, since the pay did not change and minimum wage was all I could get, but that didn’t stop what I knew was coming next. A few days later, I was let go. Tossed aside like an inconvenience. For my boyfriend, they just put him out entirely. For the third time in one year, we were both out of a job. But now, we could face eviction.

We recovered from Covid, and just in time too. I was able to start my new job, but two weeks of no pay had put us out tremendously. One company hired my boyfriend, but we would shortly learn that they would never actually give him any hours. December and January have tested us on what we could and couldn’t live without. We had to forgo a majority of necessities.

We couldn’t set up a disposal service. We had to leave mail to pile up. Living off Dollar Tree groceries. Go weeks without gas. Pawn what we could just so we could make rent and utilities. Now, with February ending, all of this has caught up to us. 

Months of garbage have piled up so high we’ve designated a “trash room” just to keep it out of the way. Toiletries have been out for weeks, but we can’t even afford groceries so soap and cleaning products are out of the question. Our propane is almost completely gone. All the cans of food we had stockpiled are a day away from running out. And we can’t afford our bills. Not with all my checks being used to barely keep us alive.

My boyfriend has recently started a new job, but they won’t pay him in time for us to pay our bills. Which is why I’m reaching out to y’all for help. We have both done everything in our power to keep ourselves above water, but now we can no longer keep it up on our own.

Here is a breakdown of our situation as of today:

My recent paycheck is completely gone after using it to get some of our bills stabilized, but they are already getting back into the red with how far behind we are.

Our car payments are coming up as well as insurances. One car payment is my full check, and we won’t be able to pay for one of them, much less their insurance

We were able to get rid of four bags of trash thanks to some helpful neighbors, but it’s starting to pile once more and I’m worried bugs will start to come out

Internet and Electric must be paid within the next few days in full or risk disconnection. With these two gone, I can’t make any money whatsoever

Food will be out as of Tuesday and with no money left from my check, we’ll be unable to get any groceries for who knows how long

We just ran out of Propane which is used to keep water hot as well as to cook

I hate asking for help and not letting people know what the situation is or what the money will be used for, so I will do so now.

I am asking for 2500 which will leave us with a touch of extra money for things like groceries, toiletries, and vehicle maintenance that is greatly needed. The breakdown is as follows:

$550 - Rent

Rent is due on the 12th of each month and requires two checks to meet. Last month we were able to pay in two separate payments, but our landlord has said that it was the only time and March forward it will need to be in full each month.

$650 - Car Payments

Both cars are $300/month, but we’ve passed my boyfriend’s due date and have incurred a late fee. My car is due on the 6th and if it’s not paid in time, they will repo.

$500 - Insurance

Both Insurances are ~$250 each. Without the insurance, the cars will also risk repossession and my boyfriend needs the vehicles for transportation

 $235 - Internet + Electric

I’ve lumped these together since they are both necessary for my job as well as being ones that need to be paid by this Tuesday or they will disconnect

$100 - Propane

$100 gives us enough propane to last a month. Without this, we can’t shower, do laundry, or even cook

$120 - Disposal + Mail

Disposal and Mail service needs to be set up as soon as possible, but to be honest they are low on my priority list compared to everything above.

$345 - Groceries, Toiletries, Cat Care, and Car Maintenance

With the extra money we can comfortably get through a month with little hassle. I know that more bills will be due later on, but once my boyfriend starts getting steady checks again We can at least make it through on our own with this little extra

I know that right now, things are very tough. I may also come about as rather...presumptuous and hopeful that maybe, just maybe, people can help us out in our time of need. I know it’s a lot to ask, but if you see this and are unable to help us out yourselves, please spread the word as much as you can. I cannot allow us to fall after everything we’ve been able to get through this horrible year. Please, if you can give even a dollar, that’s one dollar closer to getting out of this hole.

Thank you, and I hope that you all have a safe and happy time going forward.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Nights in the City

Switch AU

A JSE Fanfic

Almost forgot to queue this, oops. Luckily I remembered just in time :) Anyway, this is a chapter about Schneep, because I feel like we should give him more attention in this AU. I mean, he’s a cool badass superhero, and we haven’t seen that much superhero-ing so far! So, here’s a short chapter about what that usually entails for him, with some cameos from the boys and some background characters. Enjoy :)

More of this AU found here

When most people lied about calling in sick to work, they were planning on doing something fun with their free time. But when Schneep lied about being sick, it was because he’d heard that there were some shady dealings going down on the north side of town that morning, and he had to be there to hear the information. Truly, the life of a vigilante was a glamorous one.

At least he’d had an extra-large cup of coffee that morning to make up for it. That would keep him alert as he waited on a rooftop ledge for said shady people to show up. This would be a terrible place to lose his balance. But it was the best hiding spot in the area, partially covered by a decorative stone outcropping while still being within earshot of the street below. It was a cloudy day, and not a lot of people were out and about. Which is why, when two people walked up to each other and sat down on a bench outside the building where Schneep was hiding, he paid extra close attention.

Luckily, there wasn’t too much wind or other background noise. He managed to get the gist of what these two were talking about. They were using a lot of the common code words that criminals in the city had developed. And he was familiar enough with that code to figure out they were talking about smuggling some firearms into the city. They mentioned the west edge more than once, referencing some common location that he wasn’t familiar with. And then they left.

Schneep frowned under his mask. It wasn’t a lot to go off of...but he didn’t mind. It would be nice to distract himself with a normal criminal case. To take his mind off all the stressful supernatural shit they’d been going through for the past months. And as a distraction, it was working. As he carefully slid off the roof ledge and onto a windowsill below, he was already running through the crime hotspots he knew about in the west side of the city.

Now that he was grabbing onto the windowsill below, he was about twenty feet above ground, so he dropped off the building altogether. With the ease of years of practice, he landed on his feet, letting his specially designed boots absorb the shock of the fall. Great. Now all he had to do was go home and spend the rest of the day narrowing down locations.

But as he turned to leave, Schneep paused. There was a car parked down the street, on the opposite side. Not unusual, but...it had been parked there when he arrived to eavesdrop on the criminals’ conversation. An hour ago. And again, not too unusual, but...it just didn’t look like the kind of car that would be common in this area. It was too new and clean.

Wary, Schneep looked away from it. After a moment’s hesitation, he started to walk down the street away from the car, remaining on edge and listening for anything odd.

Sure enough, as soon as he started to walk away, he heard the sound of a car starting and pulling onto the road. Going slow. Approaching. He sped up a bit, glancing around for alternate routes.

After only a minute, the car was driving alongside him. He glanced over at it just as the window rolled down. A voice shouted, “Hey!”

And Schneep immediately turned and ran into a gap between the buildings. “Hey wait!” The voice shouted, and he heard the car stop, but he didn’t slow down. There was a fire escape up ahead with a ladder, pulled up so the end was about six and a half feet off the ground. He jumped, catching onto the bottom rung, and started climbing. There were more shouts on the ground below. He didn’t pay attention to what they were saying. Instead, once he reached the first landing of the fire escape, he pushed open the window and ducked inside the—fortunately—abandoned building.

He quickly found the staircase and climbed up until he reached the roof access. Once up there, he glanced around and noticed that this building was fairly close to one of the ones next to it. So without hesitation, he jumped across the gap and onto the next building’s roof. Only then did he pause, and look over the edge to the street below.

The building was about five stories tall. Short enough that he could see a figure on the sidewalk below, tall enough to make it difficult to tell who they were. Luckily, he didn’t have to. He’d gotten a pretty good look of her when she rolled down the car window earlier. It was that detective, Kikelomo. The one who’d been working on Jackie’s disappearance, and later, the kids’ as well. And...the detective he’d ran into when he’d snuck into the police station a month ago.

“Scheiße,” Schneep cursed. He’d half-hoped that she’d forgotten about seeing him, but apparently not. And apparently she’d managed to put together that the stranger from that day was him...or, more accurately, was his ‘hero identity,’ Von Voltage. It wasn’t surprising. After all, he’d zapped a couple people when getting away. Probably a big no-no to zap people working for the police, but he’d been more concerned with leaving as fast as possible.

Was she looking for him? She must have been, but how did she find him? Silently, Schneep watched as she walked out to her car—which she parked in the middle of the street when she got out to chase him, that was a bit of a dick move—and climbed into the driver’s side, soon speeding off. He waited until the car was out of sight before leaving.

———————

A while later, Schneep arrived at Marvin and Jameson’s house, still in his super suit. He’d been careful not to be seen while running here, just in case Kikelomo was still trailing him without him knowing. But by the time he reached their street, he was pretty sure she was gone. This neighborhood wasn’t too busy, any activity was noteworthy. But he didn’t see anything strange. And JJ’s car was still in his driveway, so at least one of them was home.

Letting himself relax a bit, Schneep hurried to their front door, pulling his mask off as soon as he reached the doorstep. Without knocking, he opened the door, calling out, “Hello? Who is home?” And then he froze.

Normally, the front hall of the town house was empty. But not today. And the person he ran into wasn’t Marvin or JJ. It was Jack. Leaning against the wall by the kitchen entrance, Sam on his shoulder, looking at his phone. But he looked up at the sound of Schneep’s voice. And slowly, took in the outfit he was wearing. “Well that would explain some things,” he muttered, looking down at Sam. “Wouldn’t it?” They nodded.

“I—I—uh—you—it’s—ah—” Schneep stammered for a few seconds before clearing his throat. “What are you doing here?” he asked, slowly closing the front door behind him.

“JJ called me. There’s...um...a situation.” Jack gestured towards the kitchen entrance. Now that Schneep was getting over the shock of running into a stranger, he could hear someone’s voice coming from the room. “Apparently everyone else was busy.”

Schneep frowned. “Excuse me.” He walked past Jack and peered into the kitchen.

The voice that Schneep could hear was Marvin’s. He was arguing loudly with JJ. But Schneep could tell that wasn’t the ‘situation’ Jack was referring to. No, the ‘situation’ probably had to do with the fact that Marvin was pale as a sheet and sweating, even as he continued to argue. JJ wasn’t arguing back because his hands were busy helping keep Marvin upright, arms wrapped around his torso. Marvin clearly didn’t have the energy to stand on his own, and was holding onto JJ’s shirt tightly, even as he continued to protest.

“—not worth th’ trouble, it’s all fine,” Marvin was saying. “Y’can just go on and stop fuckin’ worryin’ about me. I can handle t’is, ‘ve done it a million times.”

JJ frowned, and didn’t say anything. Oddly enough, he was wearing his mask today, usually he only wore that for performances. He glanced over towards the door that connected the kitchen and the dining room. A red-haired woman was standing there, but at his look, she said, “Right, right,” and stepped aside. Immediately, JJ started dragging Marvin to the dining room.

“Hey! No! Drop it, Jems!” Marvin hit him weakly in the shoulder. “I don’ need to sit down.”

JJ just looked at him doubtfully.

Schneep felt this was a good moment to interject. “Ah, am I interrupting something?”

The two of them looked over at him. “Henrik! Tell him ‘m fine!” Marvin said.

“Sorry, I cannot do that,” Schneep said. “I would hate to lie to my friends.”

“Wha...?” Marvin groaned. “Alrigh’ fffffine, I’ll go...go sit at the table.” JJ looked relieved, and helped him over to the dining room, gesturing for Schneep to join them.

Nodding, Schneep retreated back into the hallway, circling around to the dining room. Jack, having heard most of that exchange, followed him.

Over in the dining room, Marvin had taken a seat at the table, leaning forward. He looked like he wanted to put his head down on the surface, but was barely resisting the urge. JJ was standing next to him, and the redheaded woman was standing off to the side. Upon seeing her, Schneep tried to retreat, again remembering that he was still wearing his super suit. Unfortunately, she caught sight of him before he could back out of the room. She gave him a friendly smile and waved.

“So...what is happening?” Schneep asked slowly.

JJ started to explain in sign language. I have rehearsal today. The first one since the...voice accident. So I really need to go. But Marvin got sick this morning and I didn’t want to leave him alone, because of how he is. But he’s insisting I go anyway and I didn’t need to call anyone to watch him, because he’s fine. A lot of the words were finger-spelled, slowing down the speech, but he was starting to get the hang of it. Nowadays he signed more frequently than he wrote.

“I see.” Schneep nodded wisely. A rehearsal, that would explain why JJ was wearing his mask. “And so you called these two to help?” He indicated Jack and the redheaded woman.

I called Jack, Jameson said, finger-spelling the name. Because Jackie’s at work, and Anti’s busy recording today, and I thought you were at work, too. I thought Jack could help, if it wasn’t a bother.

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Jack said. “I was happy to come over and hang out. There’s just the bonus matter of making sure Marvin doesn’t kill himself.”

“I know what ‘m doin’,” Marvin grumbled.

You do, you just decide to cause problems on purpose, JJ rebutted.

“Okay,” Schneep said, mentally filing away the fact that Jack knew BSL. He turned to the redheaded woman. “And you are...?”

“I’m Aoife,” the woman said. “A friend of Jameson’s. He invited me to watch his rehearsal, since apparently he likes to have someone in the audience usually and Marvin wasn’t up for it. But I don’t know how to get to the theatre where he’s rehearsing, so I thought I’d stop by to ask Jameson if he could drive me. When I walked in, these two were faffing about.”

“No, Jems was faffing, I wasn’,” Marvin protested.

“Everyone is Irish,” Schneep muttered. “Dare I ask what that means?”

I understand it means ‘wasting time,’ basically, Jameson said.

“An’ you were def’nitely wasting time,” Marvin added. “Ye’ll be late at...at t’is rate.”

I’d be okay with that, as long as someone’s here to make sure you don’t do anything to tire yourself out.

“Stop worryin’ ‘bout me, you always...ye always worry ‘bout others. Be concerned with yourself, for once. Spreading too thin, stop.” Marvin’s words were starting to slur together.

“Well, ah, I was stopping by to ask if I could stay for a while,” Schneep asked. “So...I could stay and help out.”

Would you? Jameson asked.

“Of course.”

“Ye jus’ poppin’ in to check on us?” Marvin grinned a bit. “Real swell o’you.”

“That, and...ah...” Schneep awkwardly looked down at his costume. “I was out, and I didn’t—I-I wasn’t ready to go home yet. Not that there is any danger, I just...for me.” Even though he was sure Detective Kikelomo hadn’t followed him here, there was a lingering sense of paranoia that wouldn’t leave him alone.

It’s fine, Henrik, Jameson said. Jack, do you want to stay?

“If everyone’s fine with it,” Jack said cheerfully.

Marvin muttered something under his breath, finally laying his head down on the table. He appeared to have given up on getting JJ to not worry about him.

That would be so helpful, thank you both. JJ sighed. He shook Marvin’s shoulder, getting his attention. Call me if you need anything. And please, actually take the medicine this time?

“Sure, Jems,” Marvin said softly. “I promise. Now get out o’here.”

JJ nodded, and headed out, gesturing for Aoife to follow him. I’ll see all of you this afternoon. Five at the latest.

“Have fun, Jameson,” Schneep said. “Do lots of mag—oof!”

“Oh, sorry!” Aoife had bumped into him as she walked past to leave the room. She gave him a smile. “I didn’t mean it, I was trying to be quiet.”

“Is fine, do not worry,” Schneep assured her.

“Great. Oh, and if you find it, don’t get rid of it, will you?” Before Schneep could ask what she meant, she breezed past him and followed JJ out of the door.

Schneep was quiet for a moment, staring after her. Then he turned back to Jack and Marvin. “Do you two know what she meant?”

Marvin paused. “No, but I do know somet’ing. Aoife, she’s...she’s Jems’s magician friend. Works for whatever magic...place there is out there. For magicians. An’ she’s told him that she...her specialty is divination. So it’s probably important.”

Schneep blinked. “Divination? Like...seeing the future?” He couldn’t hide the skeptical tone in his voice.

“It’s not so weird,” Jack said. “Like, Sam gets feelings that they should go do something. That’s how they met all of you. I think that’s a form of divination, if just a minor bit of it.” Sam jumped in agreement.

“Well...alright.” Schneep decided to put that aside for now. “Ah, Marvin. Were you doing anything in particular that made Jems think he should call someone?”

Marvin hesitated. “I was tryin’ t’make tea,” he finally mumbled.

“Oh, tea. That sounds like a good idea,” Schneep said. “I will go make some, then.”

“...t’ank you.”

“No problem at all.” And Schneep headed back into the kitchen, determined to forget about the detective who was looking for him.

——————— 

The next few days passed uneventfully. Schneep would spend his nights scouting out locations, looking for a place that could fit the area the two criminals were referring to. They mentioned this arms deal going down a week from then, so he had that much time to narrow down where it could be taking place. He settled on three possible locations in the western part of the city that could fit, and decided to check each of them when the day came.

Said day arrived quickly, and it dawned rainy. That was annoying. And cold, because of course it was, it was practically winter by this point. His suit was insulated, but he still felt the chill. He could’ve just let it go, but he didn’t become a notorious vigilante by giving up. So he found himself running about in the rain for hours, tracking down the locations.

The first two were busts, no suspicious activity there. But as they say, the third time was the charm. Schneep arrived at an old electronics shop just as the sun was starting to go down on the dark rainy day. The sign out front said it was closed, but the lights were on inside. Not too unusual. Except for the fact that he’d suspected this place was some sort of front for a while.

Schneep waited in the shadows across the street, making sure the glowing parts of his costume were turned off, and watched the shop. He’d brought along a pair of binoculars for the scouting that day, and kept an eye on the front and side entrances. It was a few minutes before he caught sight of movement near the side. People. He couldn’t make out the details, but someone appeared in the front window to close the blinds. Maybe nothing. Or maybe...

It warranted further investigation. Schneep slipped the binoculars into a backpack, which he left tucked into a space in the wall caused by missing bricks, and hurried across the street to the shop. There weren’t many alternative entrances to this place. He’d checked. The closest thing was a window in the back, so he circled around the building to reach it. The window was high in the wall, but there were some trash cans in the nearby alley that he pulled over so he could reach it. 

Carefully, he peered over the ledge through the window. It was a bit difficult to make out the room at first, since the glass was dirty on the inside and covered in rain on the outside, but he could see a group of people. Eight of them, separated into two groups of four. And wouldn’t you know it? He recognized two of them as the pair he’d overheard last week.

The window was the type that would slide open. So Schneep slid it open an inch, listening for voices over the sound of the rain.

“—just hurry up, neither of us want this to last forever,” one voice was saying.

“Okay, okay. Don’t get your pants in a twist.” There was the sound of cloth rustling. “See? It’s right here.”

“How do we know it’s all there? And real?”

“Well, how do we know you aren’t handing over some shoddy weapons? Or ones that’ll be tracked by the coppers?”

“Just shut up,” a different voice said. “If we keep goin’ this way, we’ll be at a standoff all night. Let’s just exchange goods at the same time, then check them over.”

“Right.”

“That sounds fine to me.”

Just by this snippet of conversation, Schneep figured out that there were two groups in this exchange, and they had some trust issues with each other. Great, that would mean he’d be fighting two groups of four instead of one unified group of eight. Hopefully, some of them would try to run or attack the other group when he jumped in. And speaking of which...this seemed like a good time. When the ‘goods’ were changing hands. Silently, he slid open the window. It opened wide enough for a person. So he grabbed the edge of the windowsill, braced himself, and just as someone inside was saying, “Hey, the window’s open—” he leapt through.

He landed in the center of the room, causing instant confusion and shouting. Quickly, he grabbed the nearest person and zapped them, instantly knocking them unconscious. There was a large crate on a wheeled dolly nearby, so he kicked that towards two others. One jumped out of the way but the other was surprised and easily got knocked over.

“This was a setup!” One of the criminals shouted, pulling out a knife. “You dirty bastards!”

“Don’t pin this on us!” Another yelled, pulling out a knife of her own.

So none of them had firearms. At least, that he could see. And he assumed that the crate had some inside, so that was a factor. He’d have to be—

One of the criminals came charging at him, swiping with a knife. Schneep dodged out of the way, but wasn’t fast enough to avoid the blade grazing across his upper arm. Luckily, it didn’t break through the suit. He grabbed the culprit’s arm with both hands and, with a fair amount of effort, threw them into another criminal who was also running towards him. He let out another burst of electricity from his gloves as he did so, rendering that one unconscious as well. Then he ducked close to the ground, scooping up the knife the criminal dropped in surprise when he threw him, and dodged to the side, avoiding the sudden rush of every other criminal trying to grab him at once.

So that was two down, one temporarily out of commission as he tried to wiggle out from under the body of his friend. The one he’d hit with the crate was standing up, trying to pry open the lid. “Oh no, don’t you dare,” Schneep growled, lunging over towards the crate and grabbing one edge of it. The criminal looked up at him, shocked, then tried to punch him. He ducked, and swung the knife he’d picked up. The criminal ducked in turn, but didn’t notice that Schneep had also lunged forward, other hand coming from the other side and knocking him unconscious with a single hit. Three down.

Two of the remaining ones were now fighting with each other—as he’d predicted—and grappling in the corner. The one who’d been knocked down was standing again, recovering her bearings, and the other two were running at him. Quickly, he decided on a priority: get the crate full of guns out of reach of any of these people before taking them out. So naturally, he pushed it forward again. The two running at him leaped out of the way, clearly not wanting the same thing to happen to them as happened to their friend. Schneep took advantage of their distraction and ran after the crate, grabbing the edge of the dolly and swinging it around so it was facing the room’s door. Then he pushed it out, running after it.

“Hey!” They were shouting after him, but he couldn’t slow down. The crate, being large and heavy, was swiftly gaining momentum as it rolled down the hall. He managed to turn it through the open doorway leading to the front of the shop, but once it was in there, all he could do was aim it for the front entrance.

The crate easily smashed through the double doors and rolled out onto the street, impacting the side of a car—wait, a car?!

A siren started up, and blue lights started to flash through the blinds of the front window. Schneep let out a string of curses under his breath. He could either turn back and try to leave through the window or the side entrance, facing a small group of criminals with knives, or go through the front door and try to avoid who-knows-how-many police officers, none of whom liked him.

He thought about it for a split second before turning and going back into the back of the shop. Luckily, the criminals were also taken by surprise, so he managed to slip by them and out through the side entrance before they could. He started to run, but then paused. He grabbed one of the trash cans that he hadn’t used to get through the back window and pulled it in front of the side door, barring it. Then he started to run, heading towards the opposite end of the alley.

But then a bright yellow light shone into the alleyway. Schneep glanced behind him just long enough to confirm his first thoughts: car headlights. And a voice shouted, “You there!” and he turned and ran. Hopefully the still-falling rain would make it easy for him to lose them.

“Wait! Don’t run again!” Footsteps splashed behind him, but he didn’t stop. He ran until he reached the other end of the alley and emerged onto the opposite street. This side was empty. He glanced left, then right, then turned left and kept running. The footsteps were keeping pace with him, but if he could just get to a ladder or something he could lose them on the rooftops.

One of the streetlamps overhead was out, leaving a patch of shadow on the sidewalk and road. He ran underneath it and looked back towards the person behind—

Slip.

Because of the rain, the broken streetlamp, and that backwards glance, he didn’t see the water pooling on the sidewalk, or notice the curb that marked the corner of the street. One misstep was all it took for him to fall hard onto the street, hitting his head, and everything flashed white before fading to black.

———————

The pain was the first thing Schneep noticed when regaining consciousness. The back of his head felt like his skull had split open. The second thing he noticed was that he was lying on...a seat of some kind. A sofa? Well, it was a hard and unusually small sofa if that was the case. He heard voices as well, or maybe just one, but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, so he ignored them and opened his eyes. Black spots danced in front of him, a shadowy face faded into his peripheral vision before fading away. Well, that was normal, so he ignored that, too. “Ja, piss off,” he muttered.

“Well, that’s a bit rude.”

That voice...sounded a bit more solid. And as he looked around his surroundings, it reinforced that first impression. He wasn’t lying on a sofa, but in the backseat of a car. Rain dotted the windows, and a light in the ceiling overhead lit up the scene in a yellow-white glow. He glanced towards the direction the voice had come from. And came face to face with Detective Kikelomo, sitting in the front seat of the car, looking around the back of the seat to stare at him.

His heart stopped. He realized he wasn’t wearing his mask anymore. Okay, time to disregard the slight murmurings that he could still hear, this was higher priority. After a moment of staring at her, frozen, he lurched into a sitting position and turned around to try and open the car door. That didn’t work, because first, it was locked, and second, the sudden motion sent a wave of nausea coursing through him. He groaned again, pressing his forehead to the car window and clenching his teeth.

“Be careful,” Kikelomo said. “You were out for a few minutes, and you might have a concussion. I was going to offer to drive you to the hospital after this.”

“Is fine,” Schneep said through gritted teeth. “I can take care of it.” Jackie would be waiting for him back at his apartment anyway. Though he didn’t like the idea of making him worried with a possible concussion, it was probably better to get his opinion first before taking it to a doctor who’d ask questions.

“Take care of it the way you took care of that puddle Rachel said you slipped in?” At this point, Schneep realized there was someone else in the car, in the front passenger seat. A woman, with blonde hair cut to chin-length. “Real nice for some superhero.”

“Shut...up.” Schneep squeezed his eyes shut. God, his head still hurt. But more importantly...“Am I being detained?”

“Well...” Kikelomo picked at the stitching on her leather seat, glanced over at the other woman, then looked back at Schneep. “No. Not exactly.”

That wasn’t what he was expecting. Schneep looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “What do you mean?”

“That wasn’t my plan at all,” Kikelomo said. “Though...I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t considering it. I was going back and forth, but then...well...that note convinced me.”

“Note?” Schneep asked, confused.

The other woman held up a folded piece of paper, a bit wet from the rain but not enough to lose its integrity. “This fell out of your...costume...when we were dragging you into the car. What’s this about, anyway?”

Schneep managed to sit up straight. “May I see that?”

The woman shrugged, and handed it over. He quickly unfolded it. There was a message written on it, in solid, straight handwriting. It read: To Rachel and Lydia. He means you no harm, and is no threat to you. I think you should let him go, because he’s currently dealing with something that your normal police can’t handle. It’d be better for everyone that way. Oh, and swing by that shop on Everett that you’ve been wanting to visit on Saturday :)

He read it a couple times, processing what it said. “I...have no idea what this is,” he finally admitted.

“Really?” Kikelomo said doubtfully.

“Really, I—” Schneep paused. “Oh.” Last week, when he’d gone to Marvin and JJ’s house. That magician friend of JJ’s, Aoife, had bumped into him. She said something weird about not getting rid of something ‘if he found it.’ This must be that something. “I understand now. It got slipped into one of my pockets, I did not even know it was there.”

Kikelomo still looked unsure. “Well...who put it there? And how did they know our first names?”

Schneep shrugged. “Someone who bumped into me. A stranger.” Not technically a lie, he wasn’t familiar with Aoife. But Marvin said she had divination magic. Had she...known this would happen?

“Alright, fine, let’s put that aside for now,” Kikelomo dismissed. “You’re not being detained, but I would like to ask you a few questions.”

“Only if you let me ask you some first,” Schneep insisted. “How did you find me? What are you planning to do? Who is this other person?”

“My name’s Lydia,” the other woman said casually. “I’m her fiancée.”

“Ah. Okay. Then what are you doing here?”

“Helping. This was all her idea, but I thought I’d join in. And good thing I did, someone needed to bring the car around when you knocked yourself the fuck out just a street over from a police raid.”

“That is fair,” Schneep relented.

“Let me start with your first question,” Kikelomo said. “I know you follow a lot of the illicit activity in the city. So, I kept my ears open for any cases going on that you might be interested in. We got a tip that there were some negotiations going on between the Striped Snakes and Monte Blanca, and I thought you might be interested in that. Apparently it was a well-known fact in the underworld. So I just followed along with the investigation.” She paused. “Technically, I’m not supposed to be here,” she admitted.

Schneep took a moment to process this. “So...you were investigating, out on your own, with the possibility of getting in trouble for it...on the chance that you would run into me.”

“...yes,” Kikelomo mumbled.

“Hey, trust me Mr. Voltage Guy, this is the first time she’s done something like this,” Lydia said. She sounded rather upbeat about that fact, almost proud.

“But I knew I had to!” Kikelomo protested. “After you snuck into the records at the police station, it took me a while to realize I’d seen you before. Actually, Rya was the one who remembered. You’re a friend of Dr. Parker, aren’t you?” Schneep hesitated, not willing to answer. But that was enough. “I thought it was strange that you risked going into the station, but once I figured out you were friends with him—he disappeared, didn’t he? And so did his daughter and her friend? It’s an unusual set of circumstances, and since you like to take the law into your own hands, I figured you were trying to do something about it. Aren’t you?”

Schneep rolled his eyes, then winced as that caused a few more black spots to dance before his eyes. He really should get his head looked at soon. “You say that about taking the law into my own hands, but are you not doing the same thing, following me, tagging along on a case that wasn’t yours? Hmm?”

“I...” Kikelomo paused. “This is for my case. It’s my job to find out what happened to your friend and those kids, and if you can help—”

“Well I can’t,” Schneep interrupted.

Kikelomo blinked. “Look...I understand that you...have an operation...here. And I will admit, it does actually help in some circumstances, even if you break a thousand laws on the way. But clearly, whoever is behind this has skill. Not only have they managed to stay hidden this long, but I believe they somehow manipulated your friend’s and the kids’ memories, which is no small feat. In this case, the resources of the police are more qualified to handle this.”

At that, Schneep couldn’t help but burst into laughter. Kikelomo watched, shifting awkwardly in her seat and giving Lydia a few unsure glances. “Maybe I should...rephrase what I said,” Schneep finally said. “You cannot help me. You are not qualified for this. Trust me, I am barely qualified for this. And, quite frankly, you do not want to be involved. I often disagree with the saying ‘ignorance is bliss,’ but I think it applies in this situation.”

Kikelomo was unsure how to respond. She glanced at Lydia, who just shrugged and said, “Remember that note? It said something about the normal police not being able to handle this.”

“Even so, I can’t imagine a situation where you don’t want more hands on deck. Unless this is somehow...I don’t know, if the government is involved or if it’ll cause a scandal. But still, I’d think I’d pick up if this was something like that.”

“No, you wouldn’t. The people who want stuff like that under wraps are very good at keeping it that way.”

“Still.” Kikelomo glanced back over at Schneep, who said nothing. He didn’t care what she thought about this situation, as long as she left it alone. “We could provide protection for your friend—”

“No, you cannot,” Schneep said firmly. 

And Kikelomo fell silent again. Then she slowly turned around and started the car. “If we’re not taking you to the hospital, where are we going?”

“Drop me off on the corner of Underhill and Yew,” Schneep said, pulling his mask back on despite knowing it wouldn’t help anymore. “And please stop following me. You are just making me paranoid all the time.”

The car ride that followed was awkward and silent, but luckily, it was soon over, and Schneep stepped out of the car and onto a rainy street. He didn’t move until they were gone, and then he sighed. Well, that was bad. He didn’t want anyone knowing his identity, much less a detective and her girlfriend. But hopefully, they’d drop the matter, and he’d never run into them again.

———————

Unfortunately, those hopes were dashed two days later.

It was getting towards the end of his work shift, and Schneep was ready to leave. Not for any particular reason, he just didn’t have the energy. He’d considered taking the day off for medical purposes by calling in and telling his manager that he’d hit his head a couple days ago and had to stay home. Even if Jackie said that he’d be alright, that would still be reason enough. But he’d decided against it on the grounds that he’d already taken a few days off and risked losing his job if he did it again.

So here he was. Staring at the wall clock in the chance that it’ll go faster if he watched it. Then he heard the familiar sound of the front entrance opening and closing and Jennifer, his coworker, said, “Could you get that? I’m working on the order for the last guys.”

Sighing, he nodded, and headed out to the front counter. “Hello, welcome to Latte Lake, what can I—” Then he stopped. “You are fucking kidding me.”

The pair of customers who’d just walked in were none other than Detective Kikelomo and Lydia. Clearly off-duty, wearing casual street clothes and looking relaxed, but it was them nonetheless. And they looked just as surprised as he did. “Ohhh, that’s why the note said to come here,” Lydia muttered.

“The note—oh.” Schneep took a deep breath as he remembered the last line of the note Aoife had put in his suit. Something about the two of them going to a shop on Everett. The street where Latte Lake, the shop he worked at, was located. That should have rang a few bells when he read it, but there were a lot of shops on the street, and he’d had more pressing matters on his mind. “The next time I see that—that magician, I am going to kill her,” he muttered.

“Sounds like someone really wanted us to continue the conversation, if you ask me,” Kikelomo said, sounding a bit smug.

“Can we not do this now?” Schneep asked. “Do you know how much of a—how bad of an asshole you have to be to do something like this while someone is at work, and cannot leave? An awful one. No. Stop this.”

“Ah...well, sorry,” Kikelomo muttered. “But we didn’t come here intending to do that. We just wanted to check out the cute little cafe.” She paused. “Alright, this is the last thing I’ll say. Are you sure you don’t need our help? I mean, we’re professionals and you’re...well, you’re very good, but it’s different.”

Schneep rubbed his eyes. “Look. I do not say this because I hate you, or any of the pol—the people you work with. I say this because you literally cannot help. You cannot catch Dis—the person behind this. You cannot do anything to him. Anything you can think of will not work. We are...are just...surviving. Avoiding him. We are working on stopping him, but so far, we cannot. And you will not be any better at it. I promise you.”

Kikelomo thought about this. “Who’s ‘we’?”

“I—” Schneep choked. Even letting that slip was too much. “No. Don’t. I am asking you politely, stop talking about this. I can go in the back and just stay there, I am only talking to you out of courtesy. Just...stop. Give it up.”

Lydia nudged Kikelomo. “Hey Rachel? Maybe drop it for now.”

And Kikelomo sighed. “Alright. I’ll drop it for now. But this isn’t over, I can promise you that. I’m a detective. I will figure out what’s going on.”

“And when you do, you will see how right I am,” Schneep said stubbornly. “Now if you will excuse me.” He turned around and called out, “Jennifer? Are you okay with switching?”

“Yeah, sure, Henrik,” Jennifer replied, not noticing the way Schneep winced as she said his name out loud in front of the detective. Silently, he switched places with her, and things went back to normal as Kikelomo and Lydia placed orders, sat down to wait, and then eventually left the shop once their orders were ready.

His shift ended soon after that, and he practically ran out of the door and down towards the bus stop. As he waited for the bus to arrive, he wondered. Should he have told them the truth? It may have been unbelievable, with magicians and a man out of time and a strange gray smiling creature tormenting them all. But maybe he could have convinced them?

No. No, it was just too unbelievable. And he didn’t want to be judged for it, especially when the person doing the judging had the power to do something about it. His situation was just too precarious, being a vigilante in a city where that was illegal. He couldn’t risk a detective having a low opinion of him.

Still, he was sure that this wouldn’t be the last time he’d see Detective Kikelomo. If she was so determined to figure out what was going on...maybe she’d be able to find the truth. And when that happened, Schneep would be happy to accept whatever help she offered. But he wasn’t going to be the one making the first move. He simply couldn’t afford to.

[adamarks]

If one more person says simon snow should lose his wings i’m gonna lose my goddamn mind: a meta

Alright you guys, I’ve had ENOUGH. Simon cannot lose his wings unless you want him to break up with Baz, and this is why.

Let’s start with Baz.

This analysis is obviously Simon-based, and yes i’ll get there, but first we need to look at the biggest key we’ve been given to what Simon’s wings could possibly mean subtextually and metaphorically for the story at large. That key is: Baz’s vampirism. 

Baz being a vampire is constantly compared to/mentioned in tandem with his queerness in Carry On. In his first chapters, what are the three most important traits that we learn about him? 

he’s a drama queen

he’s a vampire

he’s hopelessly in love with simon snow

If you boil his character down until he’s basically just a stick figure, that’s what he is: an over dramatic vampire in love with Simon Snow.

We’ve all read the books, we all know this, and we all know he’s much more than that. What of it?

What’s important is that Baz’s vampirism is treated almost the exact same as his homosexuality. 

Hiding it from everyone, being ashamed of it, knowing what you are but being terrified of it. His dad being “definitely more disappointed in my queerness than my undeadness.” 

I mean, holy shit, let’s look at this bit in Carry on from Chapter 51:

“I think if I got married, to a girl from a good family, my father wouldn’t even care that I’m queer. “

This scene really hits, because how many times have you wondered “What if I was straight? Maybe this thing wouldn’t be as bad?” “What if i was just a straight poc?” “What if I was only gay and not trans?” “What if I was only disabled and not gay on top of it?” What if, what if, what if. Would my life be easier? you wonder. Would I get hurt less? Would people treat me better?

If Carry On is about self-realization, then Wayward Son is about the struggle of self-acceptance. 

Baz going to Las Vegas and meeting Lamb probably seemed familiar for some of you people that are LGBT+. It’s how you feel when you’re from a small town and you go to a big city like New York or Orlando or LA for the first time and you see gay people all around you. Flamboyantly gay! Gay people holding hands! Gay people kissing! Trans people that don’t fit the gender norms! Older trans ladies just walking down the street!

It’s exciting, it’s exhilarating. Your baby-gay brain is so confused because no one’s giving them dirty looks. They don’t look nervous or ashamed. Is this allowed?

The party in the penthouse is glamorous and beautiful and alluring and none of the humans there are scared or look like they’re in real danger. It’s because they aren’t. None of those vampires are there to kill people. 

This is where Baz’s fear of his own nature comes in. Let’s hear it for all you homosexuals in the crowd that are/have been terrified of being predatory. Of turning the gender you’ve been told all of your life you’re not supposed to want into pieces of meat. You feel ashamed for wanting physical intimacy. You feel wrong for wanting emotional intimacy. 

Lamb is the older gay that you meet/learn about/watch on youtube or whatever that makes you learn that no, you’re not inherently evil. Lamb is the queer history, the queer movies, the queer people that you discover that make you learn that “no, i’m not bad. I’m not broken. I’m beautiful. I’m beautiful.” 

Baz thinking the sight of Lamb drinking that guy’s blood being alluring and beautiful is crucial to his arc. Baz needs to see that all of him is beautiful. 

So homosexuality = Baz being a vampire? How in the flying fuck does this have anything to do with Simon?

Remember, Baz is our key. His struggles have been happening since book one. Simon just gained his “creature” status at the end of Carry On. He’s new to this. Which means we’re new to the subtext. Which means: let’s dive on into the next big point.

Our Big Bisexual Boy

Whatever label you choose to use for Simon is up to you. As long as we all agree he likes more than one gender then it’s whatevs. I’m going to be using the word bisexual for this meta, though. 

We’re all well aware that Simon is Struggling with his bisexuality in this book. 

“I still haven’t sorted out whether I’m still attracted to women or whether I ever was, or whether I’m some kind of Baz-only-sexual. But the cleavage at this place is abundant, and I’m not mad about it.”

(taken from chapter 21) 

Like....... y’know. We know. It’s... we get it. 

The important part of that quote is that it’s at the Ren Faire. The Ren Faire is the first time Simon’s had his wings out in public since god-knows-when, if ever. This is also the first time he really considers kissing Baz in the book. Kissing Baz in Public.

Any of you that have been to Pride probably got a little bit of the warm fuzzies during this scene. The faire brought back such deep memories of my first pride it was a little bit emotional. I talked to random people, people ran around in rainbow outfits. There was body paint! Stupid hats! Weird dye jobs! The classic pride-flag-as-a-cape look! I talked to so many people and 

“Everyone here is so friendly.”

(also taken from chapter 21)

Everyone was so nice to me.

Baz feels right at home; Simon is all smiles. The only one not having a blast is Penny and she’s (I’m sorry, Penny) the token straight friend in these books. 

I don’t know how Rainbow did it, but she made me relive my first pride through Simon, and I’ll never not be grateful for that. 

“Today I’m someone else entirely. Today I’m just a bloke with fake red wings.”

The Pride/Ren Faire parallels were pretty obvious, but I wanna get a little further into the whole “wings = being bisexual” thing. 

We’ve established with Baz that being a magical creature or whatnot is Gay, but while Baz is fully magical, Simon’s “half-normal.” Kind of. It’s a weird situation there but half-normal works for the argument. 

“’Smells like dragon... but also smells like iron. Another abomination!’” 

(chapter 35)

Now the word “abomination” is really fucking unfortunate in this context, but biphobia exists so idk man. I’m gonna start talking in gay/straight terms and I absolutely know bisexuality isn’t half-gay half-straight but we’re talking in metaphors and i’ll tie it together at the end so just stick with me, okay?

He’s part dragon, part Normal (kind of). Simon’s not like Baz where he’s absolutely, 100% a vampire. He has traits of dragons and humans. This is why it’s so bad that he hates his wings half the time. They are part of him. They may not be “normal” and he may have to hide them, but he can’t just cut off the gay part. Our queerness doesn’t define us, but it’s a defining feature. 

Penny says she wouldn’t be her if she wasn’t a mage. Simon wouldn’t be Simon if he wasn’t bi. 

The mistake Simon and almost everyone else makes during this book is that they think of his wings as these separate entities. There is no gay part and straight part of Simon Snow. All of him is Simon. From the tips of his toes to the tops of his wings, all of him is Simon. He might’ve discovered this part of himself during a tragic point in his life, but that doesn’t mean it has to be something bad. It doesn’t have to be something tainted. 

Sometimes you discover things about yourself during the hardest moments of your life. When you’re already down in the dirt, beaten and bruised, sometimes a mirror is put in front of you and you realize something. You realize you’re trans. You realize you’re gay. And sometimes you resent those realizations because they came to you at the worst possible time. “This is just one more thing on my plate,” you think. 

This series is about reclaiming the things that where taken from you by the ones that hurt you. 

Simon’s going to have to learn to love his wings, because even though they remind him of something that hurts-- hurts more than anything-- they’re part of him. They are him, as much as the rest of his body is. Simon’s going to have to forgive himself, and learn to love himself for all that he is. 

Because all that he is is beautiful. 

We all know it; it’s time for him to understand that.

All right, bitches. Let’s get to the bit we all REALLY care about. this is the one that really fucks me up my dudes. Because it’s Brutal. But anyways here we go.

His wings are the Big Baz Love 

What are the two things that Simon’s  considering cutting off in this book?

“That’s what I’m going to say when I break up with Baz.”

“Dr. Wellbelove said he could remove the wings. And the tail. Whenever I’m ready.”

(Chapter 2, Epilogue)

Yikes!

My guys..... Simon and Baz don’t kiss unless Simon’s wings are out.

I truly do not understand how some of you are out here saying Simon’s gonna lose his wings I really don’t. It’s stressful. I’m stressed. Ms. Rainbow Rowell, you have me stressed. 

His Wings! Are! His Love!

On Love’s Light Wings!

Goatman dances his nasty little fingers all over the bridge that is Baz’s ass? Wings out, uses his tail to help kill the guy. Lamb is hitting on Baz too much? 

“’Spell my wings off.’”

(Chapter 45)

In the airport, when a lady is giving them the “don’t be gay” stink eye he immediately checks to make sure his tail is hidden. 

Baz can’t spell his wings off, guys. 

Baz can’t spell his wings away.

“’Snow needs you to cast your angel spell on him. I hid his wings for breakfast, but they’re still there.’“

(Chapter 19)

In Chapter 41, the biggest kiss scene we get, Simon wraps his wings around Baz to hold him. He’s embracing him in his love guys. Guys. 

Have you people noticed how i’m suddenly less articulate? It’s because i’m in crisis. Set me on fire I wouldn’t notice. I’ve been living with this terrible knowledge.

The first scene we finally see them kiss is after the scene at the Ren Faire when Simon’s wings are finally out and he finally got to fly.

“Simon catches up with me and traps me against the car. He’s kissing me before I see it coming.” 

Simon is so dtf in this scene Penny throws a water bottle at them, and it hits him in the wing. 

“’So hot,’ Simon Says. ‘Got to see you fight without picking a fight with you myself.’

Bunce throws a plastic bottle over my shoulder, and it smacks Simon in the wing.”

(Chapter 22)

She had to smack him right in the love for him to calm down, my dudes, my guys. Do you realize how hard it was for me to annotate this goddamn book with this knowledge? Every. Single. Time. Simon stretches a wing or flaps them around it’s about Baz. It gets to the point where you have to put the book down or you’re gonna explode. 

Simon’s wings are always out around Lamb. He’s jealous as hell and he hates that motherfucker’s guts. The only real injuries Simon sustains in this book are to his wings and they’re almost always when Baz gets hurt too. 

When did Simon get his wings? Only a day after he first kissed Baz.

Simon’s love for Baz is so big and so obnoxious he can’t hide it. His wings and tail have spikes, because that’s all Simon knows. He’s rough around the edges, he’s been hurt, he’s been used.

He’s never been in love before.

His love is spiky; it’s loud. It’s hotrod red and you can’t miss it when it’s out. Baz can’t see it, because Simon’s tucked it away. He hasn’t flown with it. He hasn’t wrapped it around Baz in so long. He doesn’t know how to handle a love this big, where to put it, when to unfurl it. 

Simon gets jealous. He gets scared. He’s insecure. He wants so dearly to finally give to someone instead of feeling like he’s just giving in. Like he’s still just taking from Baz.

What do you do with wings? 

How do you find somewhere safe to fly?

The Resolution.

I said earlier that if Carry On is a story of self-discovery, Wayward Son is a story of self-acceptance.

Simon has to love himself, and learn that his love for Baz is a good thing. As he accepts himself (and his dragon powers evolve go read my dragon simon meta it’s good.) he’s going to start to shine. 

This is a story being told to us with nothing but love. This is a story about a boy that’s his own worst enemy-- as all of us often are. It’s so scary to accept our wings. It’s so scary to accept our fangs. Especially when they’ve come out of such a hideous occurrence. 

We need to accept these dark times and acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, we were made more beautiful because of them. Maybe the light we give after we’ve been in darkness is more vibrant, because we know how scary the dark is. The things that happened to us were horrible, and hideous, and terrifying, but we aren’t. We’re different from how we were before, but we’re still beautiful. 

Simon Snow is going to accept himself.

Simon Snow is going to accept his past.

Simon Snow is going to finally, finally tell Baz he loves him.

And for the first time, Simon Snow is going to see that he’s beautiful.

If you’ve liked this meta you should also check out this one where i explain how they’re finally gonna get their relationship together. Also the one about the scarf

Special thank you to @singerofsimplesongs for listening to me howl and screech about this damn thing. 

Tagging some people that might be interested!

@neck-mole @watfordwallflower @carrybits @theflyingpeach @fight-surrender @shitty-posty-times @wisest-girl @slaying-fictional-dragons @gucciglitzy