#hes both so basic and not like other girls

[tomboy014]

Tamaranean Siblings, Part 2!

After the Body Swap incident, Phantom and Starfire get close.  Really close.  Turns out swapping bodies breaks down a lot of boundaries, and unlike Raven, the two have bonded.  Starfire has always been a hugger, and she’s taken to carrying Phantom around like a teddy bear. Phantom is used to having a red-headed big sister, and ever since his parents worked the ecto-deflectors into their jumpsuits, he might maybe be a teensy bit touch starved.  He loves to sprawl over Starfire whenever they hang out together.

It’s driving Robin up the wall.  Phantom knows he’s been crushing on Starfire for a while, and he goes and does this?!  He can’t help but get more brusque with Phantom, to the point it starts to interfere with group dynamics, and it prompts even Starfire to tell him off for it.

Danny confronts Dick privately to tell him off for being a total dingus.  As far as the two of them are concerned, Kor’i and Danny are basically siblings now.  He’s knows Dick has a crush on her;  that’s why Danny has been trying to talk him up to Kor’i so she’ll give him a chance, and his attitude is not helping.  Dick needs to CHILL OUT!

Robin: … Who?

Phantom: You live with her for pete’s sake! How do you not know her first name?!

This is also where it comes to light that Robin/Dick doesn’t actually have any dating experience.

Robin is a super popular super hero, leader of his team, and supposedly smooth and charismatic.  Dick Grayson is the adopted son of Bruce frickin’ Wayne and beloved by the public. Danny’s at the bottom of the social ladder and he still got a date with the most popular girl in school. Twice!  How are you this bad at girls? 

Either way, things with Robin start to calm down and the group dynamic returns to normal (though Danny will never let him live down his lack of love life).  But things in the training room start to heat up. 

Starfire and Phantom now have a much better understanding of each other’s limits, and the gloves are off.  The whole tower shakes whenever the two of them spar together, and they’re both experimenting with new ways to use their energy powers after seeing how the other uses theirs.  Phantom even manages to give Starfire a black eye for the first time, and she’s ecstatic! It’s a Tamaranean thing.  In their culture, it’s an accomplishment when a younger sibling to visibly injures the elder sibling for the first time.  It shows how much the younger has grown and how well the elder has taught them.  Starfire is super proud and posts it all over SpaceBook.

But Phantom has ulterior motives for pushing Starfire the way he has been.  No one knows his strengths like Starfire does.  More importantly, no one knows his weaknesses the way she does.  If there’s anyone who’d know how to stop him…

Phantom asks Starfire to be his contingency plan, and explains everything that happened in The Ultimate Enemy, about his future self, what he did, and how terrified he is if he one day becomes that.  If that ever happens, he wants her to be the one to take him out.

Don’t try to talk him out of it.  He already gets it enough from his friends and sister that it won’t happen.  That he’s a good person.  He doesn’t need to worry about that, etc.  He’s heard it all before, but… None of them have actually agreed or promised to end him if it does happen.  And if it does… his friends are only human, and they couldn’t stop him before.

Starfire agrees.  She can see how important this is to him, and she won’t lose Danny to a dark path the same way she lost her sister.  The wave of relief that washes over him breaks Starfire’s heart.  These must be the horrible feelings that led him to develop the Ghostly Wail.

Still, she is confident that this future won’t come to pass because he chooses not to let it happen.  She, too, has been flung forward into a bleak future, but she knows nothing in the past, present or future is set in stone.  She fought and changed the future with her own two hands.  She’s knows Phantom is strong enough to do the same. 

While Dick and Danny were never really good at staying in contact with each other, Kor’i is and keeps up her relationship with Danny even after he “retires.”  She knew months before Dick of Jason did that he took the job at Arkham and is happy for him.  It may not be the career path he wanted, but he found a good job and a way to still help people without his powers. 

<<Prev

[lucedilunax]

Bed chem - Q. Hughes

Songs masterlist

song: Bed chem - Sabrina Carpenter

pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

summary: Three stages in Quinn and his girlfriend relationship: how they met, how they had crush on themselves and how they sex life looks like

warning: mentions of sex (nothing graphic), swear words

words: 1.0k

note: ahh this week songs masterlist will be done, i'm gonna miss it but exciting things are coming in december!

masterlist

---

Your friend hit me up so we could connect

Brock’s girlfriend, Bella, and she were friends since they were kids but now, she finally moved to Vancouver. When Bella met Quinn, she knew that she had to set up her friend with him. She believed that they had the identical personality. The same lame jokes, the same awkward laugh and the same commitment to their jobs.

Bella told Brock about this idea and he immediately agreed. He knew her friend and totally saw her and Quinn as a couple. Both of them set them up on a blind date. She and Quinn were skeptical about this. They haven’t been looking for a partner, at least not at this moment and to be honest, they didn’t trust their friends in this field. Eventually, they agreed and went on a date. 

I digress, got me scrollin’ like

Out of breath, got me goin’ like

She adored Quinn. One date and she was all over heels for him. At first, he was giving her weird vibes but when he opened up to her, it turned out that he’s talkative and funny. She couldn't remember the last time a guy made her laugh this hard like he did this one night. When she got back home, she went on instagram and followed him. She started looking at his profile and looking at every single photo. She enjoyed what she was seeing. In her opinion, he was super handsome. 

Quinn, who wasn’t sure about this date, was thankful that he agreed to go. She was different from other women who tried so hard for him because he was an athlete. She didn’t care, he was certain that she didn't even watch hockey because she was asking him the most basic questions when he mentioned this sport. He came back home and saw that she followed him on instagram. He did the same and started looking at her pictures. He couldn’t believe how pretty she is. 

Are you free next week?

The next day, Quinn wrote to her asking if she had time next week. Now, he was leaving but he wanted to invite her to his match. Maybe even go on another date if he gets lucky. Impatient, he was waiting for her response the whole day. He was checking his phone every five minutes to see if she wrote him back. Thankfully, she did. She said that she’s free and it would be a pleasure to go to his game. Quinn was relieved. 

For a moment, Quinn thought that she might not be into him but this message changed it. He said that he’ll give her all the information when he gets back home. She thanked him and in that moment, she asked him about his day. They started writing every day about everything and nothing. His teammates caught him smiling on his phone when he got a message from her. 

Who’s the cute guy with wide blue eyes and the big bad mm?

Quinn wasn’t a big fan of taking photos of himself, but he loved doing this for her. He tried to keep her updated while being away as much as he could. She was sending him pictures of what she’s doing, which was watching tv shows, cooking and working. On the other hand, he always took pictures of himself in a suit and sent them to her. When he was coming back to Vancouver, he took a selfie on the plane and sent her a message coming home, can’t wait to see you soon.

She received the photo when she was out on lunch with her coworkers. She right away opened the message and saw him looking good as always. She stared at her phone too long and one of the girls noticed this. She looked on and saw Quinn’s face. The questions started floating around about her mysterious boyfriend. She felt embarrassed at first but talked about him with love in her voice. 

How you pick me up, pull’ em down, turn me ‘round

She and Quinn haven’t wanted to label themselves. They just went with the flow and if they are made for each other, they’ll end up together. Although, this hasn't stopped them from having sex with each other. Both of them loved this kind of deal. The sex was always incredible, especially when he was coming back pissed.

Quinn was manhandling her like a personal sex toy. She was more than willing to agreed on everything he was giving her. He was throwing her around the bed in every position that he wanted her in. Often, he would bent her over the couch or kitchen island and fuck her roughly. 

How you talk so sweet when you’re doin’ bad things 

She adored Quinn. He was always a well spoken guy who couldn’t miss a day without giving her a compliment. Always showing up with flowers and gifts from his trips. He knew how to make her feel better after a bad day. His words were always on point and she felt loved and adored. He treated her like a princess knowing that she has a low self confidence. He was her hype man. 

Quinn was changing completely when it came to a sex. He was dominating her, doing whatever he wants and likes. In his movements, he remembered about her boundaries but this hadn’t stopped him from treating her like a whore. As much as she loved his quiet and calm side, there was something so tempting and hot in his bedroom side. He enjoyed that she was there for his every beck and call. 

And I bet we’d both arrive at the same time

Despite the fact that Quinn was setting the pace and treated her like he wanted, he always made sure that she cum. He didn’t want her to feel like she’s just for his pleasure. He never denied her orgasm, sometimes controlled it but most of the time, he was overstimulating her. He was giving her at least two climax every time they had sex. His favorite part was when both could cum at the same time.

When it happened for the first time, it was a mind blowing orgasm for Quinn. He couldn’t keep his mind straight the minute he felt his release and her tightening muscles around him. Since that, he made this his own mission to end their sex with them cum in the same moment. She loved when this was happening, when their moans filled the bedroom after reaching a climax.

[quantum1mmortality]

oooooo I have so many ideas…

If you have a kid with curly, how does he react as a father? He gives me SUCH STRONG girl dad energy and I can’t tell you why. This man is a GIRL DAD. How is he as a parent? Does he cook? Can he help his kid with math homework? Is he a family man? I’m so curious to see your thoughts on this.

Prob like the 7th request I've gotten for dad/dilf Curly 😭😭 also to my very special anon who has been in my asks for a very special Jimmy request, give me a few days, it'll be out love 🪽(I'm busy asf rn)

Tw/cw; none!! All sfw this time :) see guys I can be family friendly when I want to be

Not proofread

I've actually gone over this in the tags of a different post, I do think Curly would be a girl dad. He'd want twin girls and you guys canNOT tell me different.

After you come home from the hospital, Curly would do literally everything for you and the new babies. He'd prepare healthy meals for you, he'd help clean and feed the babies, if one of them started crying in the middle of the night he'd insist on being the one to take care of it, etc.

Basically the bare minimum but is still praised because the bare minimum is hard to come by now.

I see Curly as the type of man to be raised by a single mom and having no father figure. Morbid? A bit, but it helped shape him into the super awesome sauce girl dad he is today.

Because of having an absent father, Curly would go above and beyond to make sure he's present in his children's lives. Any days he has off, he's spending time with you and your new baby girls. Oh, his daughter's are in a school play? He's calling off work and showing up with flowers and chocolates for both of them. Shit like that

Curly would come into work late or just take the day off completely if you needed extra help with the kids. He'd leave work early to pick them up from school if you couldn't. He WANTS to be there. And just remember guys, if he wanted to, he would.

Curly would also try to be home early so he could read them bedtime stories. Idk I just think that's cute.

Once they start growing up, he's getting more into their interests. Curly would be the type of dad to let his daughters put makeup on him and have them do his nails. He would happily walk into pony express as a well known captain and have nail polish everywhere on his hands BUT his nails.

And yes, he would help his kids with their homework. Something about Curly makes me think he took mathematics in college, and I can safely say he is breaking every generational curse by not making your children cry over their math homework.

BONUS CONTENT!!!; Curly would want older twin daughters (obviously, we just went over that) and a younger boy. He would want to name the boy Dallas, but I can't think of any names for the girls. He'd like the name Phoebe a lot, so probably that and maybe a name like Sophia for the other twin.

A/N; too many curly fics, must make master list

[sturn5iolo]

THATS SO TRUE!

synopsis: you and chris broke up not that long ago, but still stayed friends. what if one day he brings his new girl to you and the triplets movie night?

pairing: ex! chris sturniolo & f! reader

warning: use of y/n, jealousy, anxiety attack!!, emotionally/micro-cheating

you sat on the triplets couch with matt right next to you. while scrolling on your phone you hear chris, “hey guys, is it okay if i invite amelia over?” he says walking down the stairs.

amelia is chris’ new girl, and she’s absolutely gorgeous. blue eyes, blonde hair and just everything you would want to be. you and chris broke up almost a month ago because he felt that he didn’t love you enough, but you continued to be okay with each other due to you still being friends with nick and matt.

“oh yeah that’s fine with me,” nick says as matt just nods. you turn your head to look at chris, just for him to be staring at you already. “i don’t care” you say to him.

but in all honesty, you did care. knowing how quickly he moved on from you hurt like hell. you physically could not believe that he found a new girl so quickly after being together for 8 months.

chris’ tongue glides over his teeth as he looks at you and walks away. matt taps on your knee, you look over at him and he mouths, “you okay?” you smile at him and say, “of course.”

a few minutes pass by, all 4 of you guys were just sitting on the couch until you hear the door knock a few times. chris sat up enthusiastically and basically ran to the door. when the door opens you hear, “hi baby!” assumingely enough it was amelia.

she and chris walk up towards the couch and stand in the middle of the living room. “amelia this is nick, matt and y/n. guys this is amelia.” he says with a soft smile on his face.

you sat at the end of the couch and of course, chris and amelia sat on the other end which had a clear view of them both. perfect, you thought to yourself.

chris looks straight at you keeping eye contact. his hands go up to her hair that was perfectly tied in a bun, his fingers wrap around the black hair tie while he whispers something in her ear. chris pulls the hair tie off and lets her hair free.

you bite your tongue and watch in silence. you knew he was doing this to hurt you, to get a reaction out of you. chris used to let your hair down the same way, and now he’s doing it with her. you knew exactly how chris thought. you knew what he was thinking while doing that.

your eyes shift over to amelia, her big blue eyes, pouty glossed lips, healthy blonde hair. does she know you and chris are exes? does she know you and chris broke up a month ago? how could anybody hate her? she’s so beautiful and cool. but for some reason something in you makes you hate her.

as you stare at amelia in awe, chris stares at you. he sees the way your eyes are glossing, the way your lip starts trembling and the way you play with the rings on your fingers from anxiety. suddenly, you stand up quickly turning around and letting out the softest, “i’ll be back.”

reaching the bathroom with tears slowly falling down your blushed cheeks. you close the door shut, both hands find the edge of the cold counter. you lean down looking at the white colored sink. breathing starts to pick up, your chest begins to move up and down at a rapid pace.

you try to wipe the tears rolling down but they would not stop coming out. tears after tears, the door is knocked on. you turn around trying to calm down your breathing, but nothing is helping. your hand reaches the doorknob and twists it open.

on the other side of the door stood chris. he looks at you with worry and pushes the door open fully, letting himself in. immediately, your pulled into his chest. chris runs his hands through your hair, “shh it’s okay.” he says to you trying to calm you down. you breathe in deeply smelling his familiar cologne and start to match your breathing to his.

a few moments pass by and you guys are still in the same position. as you find your breathing and started to calm down, you push yourself away from chris, “please don’t do this now” you beg him.

“what? what do you mean?” he asks confused. “stop trying to act like we’re okay, especially after doing that in front of me,” you say feeling tears build up once again. “do what?”

you scoff in his face wiping your tears which most likely caused mascara to smear down, “bringing your new girl over then staring at me the entire time! you can’t just do that chris?!” you start to raise your voice feeling irritated.

chris stutters, “well..sorry.” he says very unsure with his own words. “just leave me alone christopher.” you say turning around and facing the mirror, but chris didn’t move, he just stayed there behind you. watching as you broke in pieces

a/n - sorry if this is really bad..i wrote this high off my mind at 3am 😭😭

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve was lying on the floor of Robin's room, his back against the wall as he let Robin paint his toenails while he flipped through one of her magazines. The radio played softly in the background.

"I am totally new to having a girlfriend, and by girlfriend, I mean platonic girlfriend," Robin said.

"Well, that's one thing we got in common, I don't think I've ever had a girl who's just a friend," Steve said.

"What about Perkins?" Robin asked.

"She doesn't count, I hated her. She's the reason Tommy became such an asshole," Steve said.

"Hm, yeah," Robin said and paused. "So, how close were you and Tommy?"

"Well, we were friends since we were eight. We pretty much bonded over the fact that we both had assholes for fathers. We shared everything and told each other everything. He told me about his first crush, and I told him about my first crush. We practiced kissing, practiced having sex, and when I got first kiss, I told him immediately," Steve said.

"Woah, woah, woah! Back it up!" Robin exclaimed, and she closed the nail polish. "What the fuck do you mean you practiced kissing and having sex with Tommy Hagan?"

"Exactly what it means," Steve said, rolling his eyes. "We hadn't gotten girlfriends yet, and we wanted to get good before we did. It doesn't mean anything. We like women, so it didn't count."

"It still counts!" Robin shrieked. "Did you or did you not put your lips on Tommy's?"

"Yeah, and I also let Tommy put his dick in my ass. I was basically his pillow," Steve said as he continued to casually flip through the magazine. "It doesn't count if you're not gay, Robin."

"It doesn't work like that! Steve Harrington, the first time you had sex was with Tommy Hagan!" Robin exclaimed.

"It was not!" Steve exclaimed, throwing down the magazine.

"Was too!" She yelled.

"Was not!" Steve yelled.

"Okay! So, let's say if I kissed you right now. . .," Robin said.

"Wouldn't count as your first kiss, you're a lesbian and I'm straight," Steve said.

Robin grinned, a manic look in her eye. She pulled her hand back and slapped Steve across the face. He screamed.

"Didn't count! I'm a lesbian and you're straight!" Robin yelled.

"Okay, okay, I see your point. Jesus, did you have to hit me so hard?" Steve asked, rubbing his red cheek.

"Yeah, dingus, I did," Robin said.

"Okay, so my first kiss was with Tommy, and I lost my virginity. We're not gay, though," Steve said.

"No, just desperate and very horny teenagers, apparently," Robin rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you had gay sex before me, and you're not even gay. I bet you pictured some blond with big boobies."

"Well, no, actually," Steve shrugged.

"Hm, what do you mean?" Robin asked.

"I didn't have to picture a woman. I liked it," Steve shrugged.

"You liked it?!" Robin asked.

"Well, I am a man, Robin," Steve said.

"Uh, except not every man likes it when another man rams it up his asshole," Robin said. "Okay, I kind of wish I had been more delicate about this, but I didn't know this was you being in denial kind of situation."

"I'm straight, Robin, I like women," Steve said.

"Yeah, and did you know that you can like men and women?" Robin asked.

"What?" Steve asked.

Robin smiled and got up to pull out a box from underneath her bed. She pulled out a magazine and tossed it at Steve.

"Read it, study it, learn from it," Robin said.

Steve looked at it quizzically for a moment before opening it. He stared at it for the longest time before finally closing it.

"I am an idiot," Steve said.

"No, you're not. You just didn't know," she said softly.

"Bisexual," Steve whispered, and then he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh my god, this whole time, I thought I lost my virginity to Chrissy Cunningham."

"Chrissy Cunningham?" Robin asked.

"Uh, we used to hang out all the time before she started dating Jason Carver," Steve said. "Our parents ran in the same circles."

"Well, you know, I guess you could say you lost your guy virginity to Tommy Hagan and your girl virginity to Chrissy Cunningham," Robin said.

"Yeah, that's true," Steve grinned. "Thanks, Robin, and especially thank you for giving me that slap. I definitely needed it."

"Anytime that you want me to hit you, I'm your woman," Robin replied.

They moved towards Robin's window sill and sat on it, opening a window to get some fresh air.

"You know this means that I'm not straight," Steve said.

"Something else we have in common," she said.

"You ever wonder how many out there who are like me and who just don't know?" he asked as he looked up at the moon. "Here in Hawkins, I mean."

"Probably a lot more than we think," Robin said. "And they're out there, sitting in their closets wondering if they're ever going escape themselves or be rescued."

"Isn't crazy how we found ourselves?" Steve said.

"Maybe queer people just end up finding each other," Robin said.

"Well, maybe they'll find their way out themselves," Steve said and then he looked her, hazel eyes twinkling in the moonlight. "Seriously, Robin, thank you."

"You did that yourself, you know, you just needed a nudge. I mean, you could have told me to go fuck myself and continued to live in denial," Robin said. "You're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for."

Steve smiled bashfully and glanced back at the moon. He looked at her, with tears in his eyes.

"Is it possible to be platonically in love with someone?" he asked.

"I think anything is possible," she said. "I think it's a definite because I know that I'm absolutely, platonically in love with you."

They dangled their feet out the window and leaned against each other, Steve resting his head on top of Robin's.

"I wish I'd known you sooner," he whispered.

"I wish I'd known you sooner, too," she whispered back.

They were here now, though, and absolutely nothing could get in between them.

Part Two

[misswynters]

Spending time with ekko, jinx and your twin girls

featuring. ekko x wife!reader

what the title says, jinx is basically the aunt to your twin daughters, very sweet and chaotic

One of your twin daughters darted ahead on unsteady legs. Her energy, an exact match for her father’s, while her quieter sister clung to your hand with her big and curious eyes watched everything with caution. Ekko walked on your other side, keeping a sharp eye on the more adventurous twin. Meanwhile, Jinx strolled behind, her oversized gun slung lazily over her shoulder. She hummed an off-key tune, her bright blue braids swinging, but her sharp eyes never left the girls.

“Careful there, little spark!” Ekko called out as the hyperactive twin tried to leap over a particularly large puddle, barely making it to the other side without falling in.

Jinx grinned wide and crouched down next to the puddle. “Puddle’s lava now, kiddo. You touch it, you burn up!” she said, her voice both playful and mischievous.

“Really?!” The excitable twin’s face lit up with excitement as she turned back to try the jump again, more determined this time. You shot Jinx a knowing look, but she shrugged innocently. “What? Keeps her sharp!”

“Sharp enough to break a leg that is,” you muttered, though you couldn’t help but smile.

Ekko scooped up the puddle-jumper just as she turned for another run, hoisting her up effortlessly. “Alright little one, that’s enough daredevil training for today. You’re gonna give your mama a heart attack,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her wild curls. She giggled, kicking her legs in protest but not really trying to escape his hold.

Meanwhile, the quieter twin tugged at your hand. “Mama, why is Jinx’s gun so big? Can I hold it?” she asked, her voice soft but filled with curiosity.

“Nope, nope, nope,” Jinx chimed in, spinning around to walk backward and face the girl. “My babies don’t touch guns until they’re, like, I dunno… fifty. Maybe.” Her tone was light, but her eyes hardened for a moment, her protectiveness shining through.

“She’s not kidding,” Ekko added, giving Jinx a look that silently thanked her.

The five of you reached the marketplace, where familiar faces greeted you with nods and smiles. Jinx let out a dramatic whistle as she spotted a stand selling fresh sweets. “Oh-ho, look at that! Who wants candy?” she asked, already reaching for her coin pouch.

“Me! Me!” the hyper twin yelled, practically climbing over Ekko’s shoulder to get down.

The quieter twin looked up at you, silently asking for permission. You laughed softly and nodded. “Go on. Just one each, though.”

As the twins ran to Jinx, Ekko slipped his arm around your waist, pulling you close. “You okay?” he asked softly, his tone cutting through the noise of the market.

You leaned into him, watching Jinx hold the twins’ hands as they inspected the candy options like they were choosing treasure. “Yeah. Just glad we’ve got jinx around to help us watch out for them, especially the adventurous one.”

“She’d die for them,” Ekko murmured, his voice warm but serious. “Literally.” You nodded in response to his words, because you truly did know deep down the jinx cared for the girls just like she did with Isha.

taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @themostlesbianever @annybah @niredsw @stqrlxght @kriss-w @marilovz @blkmystery @multiverse-fandoms-2001 @turquoizxe @mishellii @kor-0suu @feelya @theamazingmilli @multim00n @m00nd0v3 @sodavrr @maialublmere @radtragedyarcade @spiderhook @night-fall-moon

banner. @anitalenia

[lichenes]

Hi, could you do a young silco x nb! reader where they have been friends for years and have been pinning HARD on each other, and one of them(your choice idk who) over hears the other talking about how they feel, and basically, they are kinda forced into confessing...that kinda leads to smut with feelings..pleasethankyouso

Silco falls to his knees for you in this one btw. Just so you know. Tried to write the smut as gn as possible!! CW: vanilla sex?? nothing wild ig, no reader genitals mentioned, gn!reader, silco and reader being oblivious wc: 838 .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

You stretched your body walking into the bar part of The Last Drop. “Morning.” You said to Vander who was preparing the bar for opening. “It ain’t quite morning anymore, luv.” You looked at the clock which displayed 7:30pm on the dot. “I couldn’t sleep all night...” You said still blinking back sleep from your eyes.

“Your shift starts in half an hour, by the way.” Said Silco appearing seemingly out of nowhere. “Clients don’t show up until like 10, relax.” You mused, a bit startled by his sudden presence, nevertheless happy he was there.  

You were dressed in your usual work clothing, nothing special, just a pair of slacks, a loosely fitted dress shirt and an apron meant to keep the uniform at least partially clean. You were wiping down the tables before more of the guests arrived, final touches as Vander liked to call it. You were the only person serving food and cleaning tonight so you had your hands full. 

Silco felt cornered. Mesmerised - he was mesmerised by you. Sitting at the bar and nursing a glass of whatever was cheapest, he purposefully ignored you. Were he to pay you any mind, he would go insane. Not an hour ago did he overhear you confessing your infatuation with him to your coworker.

“Okay, who is it then?” Said the newest addition to the staff. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop… truly, he was just about to ask you something menial when he heard his name being spoken. It rolled off your tongue with such adoration when you were sure he wasn’t listening. “I’ve got my eye on Vander…” Commented the girl. 

“Not my type.” Silcos heart beat faster. “You fancy Silco?” You hummed affirmatively, creating a memory for him, he was sure he’d never forget.

Vander waved his hand in front of Silco’s face, waking him up from the daydream. “You alright?” Silco’s face didn’t give away the whirlwind of emotions he was going through right in this moment. Although, he had slightly more colour in his face. “Yeah- listen.” He beckoned him closer. The bar, despite being quite loud, didn't offer enough privacy to say such things at full volume. 

“They said they fancy me.” Vander looked at him in disbelief. He then chuckled. “What, like you didn’t know?” Silco’s face went pale. He grabbed the bar’s edge. “Mate, everyone in the undercity knows this. The whole, you know, back and forth you lot have going on.”

Silco stood up. He was a calculated man. His actions were meticulous. Years of yearning. Months of planning a confession and that’s how he finds out the love of his life actually reciprocates his feelings!? He wasn’t following a script or a plan. “I need to find them. Now.”

You were taking your break in the back when Silco burst through the door. You smiled at him and just when you were about to greet him he closed the door and ran up to you. “Silco?” You questioned his erratic behaviour.

“...for years, and it feels like he doesn’t notice it!” 

He smashed his lips into your own ones cradling both your cheeks as he lowered himself to the floor, finishing his descent on his knees. You reciprocated the kiss, craning your head down so that he could stay close to you. 

You enjoyed the moment as much as you could, afraid it was to flee as soon as you separated. 

When you did, you put your foreheads together. Laughing slightly you looked at him and caressed his cheek with your thumb. “Took you long enough.” He then felt it, the hunger he suppressed for so many years. He dove back in, greedier than before. You moaned in surprise but welcomed it nevertheless. 

You battled for dominance for a moment, in the end he won. There never was questioning it. “I need you.” You managed to get out.

“I’ll make you need me even more.” 

You were resting your back on the door of the room which was locked to prevent people from interrupting your tryst. Silco had one of your legs propped on his hip, holding onto the neighbouring cabinet was the other thing keeping you upright. 

He was thrusting into you with vigour that was making you go cross eyed. Your arms around his neck were only adding to the experience, you needed him closer, right here - right now is all that counted. 

You saw white when he put his cold hands onto your most sensitive spot. A few circles is what got you to the edge and his blissed out words spilling from his lips - ‘come for me’ - for me. You’d do anything for him at this moment. 

And so you followed his instruction, causing his own orgasm after your own. He put his head on your shoulder when you both were basking in the afterglow. You brushed his bangs out of his face. His eyes were twinkling. 

“Tell Vander he needs to find a replacement for you tonight, I need you all to myself.” 

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[endearng]

Lifeline

Pairing: earlyseasons!Spencer Reid x addict!reader Summary: How does one move on after seeing the lost versions of themselves on someone else entirely? WC: 8.8k Warnings: canon criminal minds violence (m-rder); pr-stitution and mentions of sex; s.h-rm; illegal substances consumption; mentions of dr-g abuse; panic attacks; graphic suicide attempt. Minors, please, do not interact. A/N: This is heavily based on "The A Team", "Gale Song" and "evermore" and also Skins UK's character Effy Stonem. Besides that, I was also somewhat inspired by CM'S 2x11 and I messed up the timeline. Feedbacks are always welcome! | masterlist

"Her name's Amelia Holden. She was found in a dumpster in an alley of a neighborhood in central Richmond. Along with her, we have four women murdered within two weeks." JJ informed as she briefed the team about the case they were invited to work on.

Their reactions always were different. Aaron Hotcher remained unreadable, often asking about the local police's findings. Derek Morgan usually worried about victimology and the modus operandi. Emily Prentiss used to brainstorm details on the pictures. David Rossi was the one to make comparisons with previous cases. Spencer Reid busied himself with data, statistics and whatnot about the locality.

Speaking of which, "This is an high-end neighborhood, not to mention the obvious fact that it happened in the capital of Virginia. Based on that, one could think that the citizens will cooperate to solve this as fast as we can."

Derek sighed, "I wish I could tell you're wrong in different circumstances, pretty boy." Spencer frowned, eager to ask, but Derek was faster, "Truth is, these girls were all prostitutes. The rich won't give a damn if they go missing, which is pure hypocrisy based on the fact that they go where the money is, which is, well... in their neighborhood." JJ pursed her lips, taking another look at the evidence.

There were pictures of four girls, placed so carelessly in the dumpster that it was possible to deduce that they had been all thrown in there already dead. Not a single chance of survival. Not a single chance someone could save them. JJ felt a lump in her throat and looked away from the photos.

“It’s most likely a male.” Rossi said.

Emily nodded, asking, "So what do you guys think? Maybe this guy is murdering them because he thinks he's doing society a favor?"

"It could be, yes. When prostitutes are targeted, the main reason is misogyny, but we can also associate these crimes to other forms of hatred. It can also be related to power." Spencer answered. "Are there any signs of sexual abuse?"

"No, only physical violence." JJ answered. "The coroner's reports indicate that they were drugged, some of them with multiple substances. There are red bruises as well as knife scars and stabs basically all over their bodies."

"Multiple substances in their body can be a sign of addiction, but also that our unsub drugged them to make them easier to drag around." Spencer continued. “Does the lab have the substances yet?”

“Garcia is working on it.” JJ replied.

"And the amount of cuts and bruises on their bodies mean that our unsub is angry. Like, uncontrollably angry." Emily finished.

"Well, he's killed both black and white women, so we know it's not race motivated." Rossi completed Emily's train of thought. "He's been getting more and more desperate, given the depths of the cuts as he progresses, look." He said, pointing to the picture of the last victim.

Emily gulped, shaking her head lightly.

“I’d say that, given the color of the bruises, they were beaten right before they died. This unsub doesn’t keep them for much longer. Most likely, he tortures them and kills them, getting rid of them in the dumpsters. The place of disposal is rather telling.” Spencer chimed in.

"Get Garcia to look up sex offenders in that area." Hotch said. "Try to find them all, no matter what their outcome was. Close, dropped... It doesn't matter. If the theory about social cleansing is right, maybe the offender has a past history with it. On the other hand, if he's rich, he probably got away with it."

"I'll call her right now." Morgan said with a nod.

"Great. tell the Richmond PD we're getting there in a couple of hours." Hotch announces. "Wheels up in thirty."

—

Arriving in the precinct, Hotchner assigned the tasks. Rossi and Morgan would go to the latest crime scene as Reid and Prentiss looked around for possible witnesses. JJ would stay at the precinct in case something came up.

"Check this out," called Rossi. "The... instrument was big enough to go through her body, from her stomach to her back." He said.

Morgan sighed. "Intensified violence means that he's not planning on stopping any time soon."

A couple feet away, agents Reid and Prentiss talked to one of the prostitutes. "We're always here, especially at night. Some girls are here during the daytime, but you know, it's slower. Nobody wants to be seen with us." She had bloodshot eyes, a defeated expression on her features. 

"Who are your usual... customers?" Reid asked, a little embarrassed to be talking to a woman who had that much expertise in a field he lacked any. A flash of worry and guilt crossed the young woman's face and she looked around as if making sure no one was listening to them.

"Don't worry, everything's classified. You're not gonna get in trouble if you talk to us. We're just trying to help." Emily said, trying to ease her nerves.

"Okay... I... The guys who work in the bank are often here. Cops, too. But they are very sneaky." She whispered, fright almost palpable in her voice.

"Did any of them ever pose a threat? Maybe too violent? Persistent?" The young doctor asked, again. She blinked at him, willing the tears not to fall.

"Most of them are just bored husbands or divorcees who want to get laid without the worry of being chased after." Looking away, she went on, "we’re the ones who can't afford to say no to the things they're into. We get the best of their roughness, so it's hard to tell." Emily gave her a sympathetic look.

From afar, you watched their interactions. The girl, whose name was Renée, looked very nervous and guilty. You approached them, looking a lot more skeptical than the emotional mess they were asking questions to. You took a look at them, took in the way they were dressed, besides the pens and notepads in their hands. The man took a second look at you, but you shrug it off, used to be perceived and not always in the best manner, given your appearance these days. “You ok, Renée?" You checked on her softly and she nodded in agreement. "Excuse me. Are you with the police?" You ask in a serene voice.

"Hi. I'm Agent Emily Prentiss and this is Doctor Spencer Reid. We're with the FBI," the dark haired woman answered, both of them showing you their badges. You nodded. "We're investigating the murder of women in this location."

Spencer looked at you as you inspected their faces. You wore casual clothes, nothing like the outfit Renée had on, and, for a moment, he thought what were you doing in there and how and why did you know her. It didn't make sense, albeit briefly, to him, why would someone so mundane be in that place, at that time. After a couple of seconds of watching you curiously, the pieces started falling into places, though. The crestfallen expression, dry skin and chapped lips... You were going through something.

He had a feeling he wasn't sure if he wanted to know what.

That is, until you actually started talking.

"Hello," you introduce yourself. "Oh, I see. I didn’t think the locals would be interested in solving these anyway."

“Why do you say that?” Emily asked, curious to know your answer.

“I suppose they don’t like the fact that some of us are so daring to the point of going to their station to report the abuse we all go through weekly,” you snorted, voice thick with disdain, although every person in the conversation was aware that it was not aimed at either of them, “like, why are we complaining? We want to do this, we are willingly here.” Emily sighed.

“I’m sorry.” Was all that Spencer could muster up.

“Anyway…” you sniffled. A telling sign. “How can we help?”

"Have you seen anyone violent around here? A-a new face, perhaps?" He asked, turning his body to face you properly. Emily looked at him, puzzled.

"Doctor, with all due respect, they are men. And they are paying. It’s basically a green light for all sorts of abuse, I'm sure Renée told you that much." You answered, in a much more certain tone than your friend had used.

"Did either of you recall anything about that night? The most basic detail can help us.” Emily inquired.

"Yeah." Renée answered with a quiver of her lip, clinging to you, trying to find some solace. You squeezed her shoulder lightly, glancing at her.

Sensing she might not be able to talk, you went on, "I can't think of anything out of the ordinary that night. I didn't notice they were missing until the next day. We try our best to watch out for each other. As I said, some men can be real creeps, but once you start your own thing, it's… hard” you exhaled, “for some of us to keep track of what's going on around us. Unless we run into each other again, we won't know for sure if we're actually safe." You explained, looking down at your feet. After a couple deep breaths that felt like you were inhaling the oxygen of the entire Earth, you looked back at them. Still avoiding eye contact, glancing between their foreheads, something you'd learned to do in order to escape the person you were with when you needed to.

Spencer watched you the entire time.

“I see,” the woman said, taking some notes. “Would you know if they share anything in common?”

“They usually stay in the park at the end of the street,” Renée answered, “They go there once things quiet down, and guys pick them up in their cars. The night they were… um, taken, was pretty intense. If they got kidnapped, we couldn’t even give you a license plate. We weren’t around.” Her voice dripped with pure guilt. You ran your thumb on her shoulder.

At the moment, though, there's something else entirely on your mind. Eventually, after a beat of silence, you decide to speak your mind, to expose your insecurities. Not worried about how you may look. Hell, it's been a long time since you stopped. "I'm sorry to press or if I sound too demanding. I know sometimes things get out of your control, but, uh, you're gonna catch this guy, right? I mean... we have to be here. I hope you don't think we have another choice."

As you talked, your soft voice and pleading eyes drew Spencer's attention to you with even more intensity. Your voice and mannerisms weren't something he was expecting. He berated himself after realizing how he was in the wrong by assuming you’d portray yourself in a certain way because of the area you worked in. Your voice was low, but firm. Your words were understanding, but demanding. Your posture was almost defensive, but the desperation of your tone told them how terrified you were. He couldn't help but notice the fact that you were sniffing quite often. His profiling skills were faster than himself and he made the conclusion that, given the line of your work, he presumed it most likely wasn’t only a cold.

Spencer knew, then, that you shared something in common with him. Something bad.

Again, not something he wanted to know about.

Emily opened her mouth to speak, but Spencer beat her to it, "We're gonna do the best we can, Miss."

"Glad to hear that," you muttered, unable to look him in the eye.

“Thanks for your time.” Emily said, a gentle smile on her face.

Spencer watched from the corner of his eye as you and René left, walking arm in arm. In a safe distance from everyone else, he saw as your friend broke down in your arms and as you comforted her, even if you had your own tears streaming down your face. He had reached Morgan and Rossi when you two walked away. Emily studied his face attentively, wondering why he was so fast to assure a possible victim like that, because, one, it was unlike him to want to partake in such sensitive conversations with the ones involved in the process. Two, what kind of agent, doctor, official, profiler, whatever, makes promises before such an intricate process such as their work?

“So, did you get anything?” Rossi asked him, breaking him out of his reverie.

“Oh, yeah. Those two women said that the victims usually waited for clients in the park right down the street.” Emily said.

“I think we should go take a look.” Spencer suggested.

Searching the park, which was full of passersby and families just spending some time outside their houses, Spencer couldn’t shake the feeling that this case had already hit him too close to home. The violence was something that still messed with his head and he thought he could never recover from the flashes of memories behind his eyelids once he closed his eyes to sleep every night. Still, it wasn’t that that baffled him the most, but you. He knew what it was like to struggle with addiction. He had been very harsh on Emily not long ago, during a withdrawal, so he knew aggressiveness and mood swings were to be expected. You and your mannerisms, however, were totally out of the addiction bingo. The way you looked, so broken, so sick, in every sense of the word, didn’t stop you from having a polite conversation with them, even if the topic was very much concerning to you. Plus, the caring nature you seemed to have and the way you made sure to be supportive towards you and the others who, just like you, went through hell every day for the most unspeakable reasons stood out to him.

It was intriguing, to say the least.

“Hey, I got something.” Morgan said as he approached the team with a piece of paper. “It says: They will not do it again.”

“Who’s they?” Rossi inquired.

“Maybe the prostitutes. The only way of stopping them is killing them.” Spencer answered, albeit his thoughts were still far, far away from the scene.

“But stop them from doing what? Causing a divorce? Being a homewrecker? Polluting the city?” She wondered out loud.

“These are all valid possibilities,” Rossi nodded, “we now know from your interview that rich men are regulars here. Maybe one of them was unfaithful and snapped after getting his divorce. Now, he might be taking it out on these girls.” He finished.

“We still need to figure that out.” Morgan sighed. “Hey, babygirl, we need a favor,” Derek said once Penelope picked up his call. “Can you check every upper-class man in Richmond that has recently gotten a divorce?”

“Sure thing, handsome,” she quipped, “it might take some time, though. And I know you’ll need to narrow it down.”

“We’ll keep you posted. Thanks, babygirl.”

“Always happy to help, hot stuff.”

—

Back at the station, the BAU team was surrounded by cops, sharing their findings so far. Spencer was the one to make sure that the cops would be on duty and laser focused on the areas he determined through the geographical profile. Those areas were most likely the ones the next attack would take place. He emphasized, very intently, that they needed cops especially in darker alleys and that they were looking for a male in his thirties. 

Spencer couldn't shake the thought of dread that crept up on him, making him almost paralyzed. The fear of getting to the unsub, of letting him get away, of being too late, of being too early, of not being enough. Every scenario was the worst, his mind working overtime to make sure he had at least an ounce of optimism for months on end, ever since he finally managed to stay clean off Dilaudid. The cops moved around, divided between groups to start surveillance. And the dread kept building inside of him, like a crescendo of horror.

Sitting next to Emily, he decided to break the morbid silence hanging over them. “I'm sorry I lashed out on you, Emily. I don't think I ever apologized.”

Totally not expecting his words, she looked at him, wide-eyed. It took her a second to gather her thoughts and form an answer. “It's no problem. I know what you were going through.”

“Still. It doesn't change much. It's not a good enough excuse for me to treat others poorly.” He couldn't look at her, fiddling with his fingers instead.

“Reid, why do I sense you're talking about something else?”

He sighed. He was so, so tired of keeping it in, of bottling everything in, of swallowing his words so as to not make anyone uncomfortable. “I am.” He confessed, after a moment of silence.

Maybe staying quiet was less morbid than the conversation they were about to have, he mused.

“What happened?”

“That girl, today. The second one. I could tell she's having issues. The same as me, I mean. And she was so nice the entire time. She was trying to make her friend feel better.”

“Spencer…” Emily breathed out, a somewhat reprimanding look on her face. Not that he could see it. “This comparison is unfair on so many levels. First, you've seen her for what? Five minutes? We don't know what she's been through, if she has a family… There are so many possibilities. Maybe she was having a good day—”

“How does one have a good day knowing that they have very high chances of being killed?” He interrupted. A sigh left Emily's lips.

“I don't know. But you do understand why that comparison you made was unfitting, to say the least, right?” 

Right on cue, to make the subject die, he muttered a “I guess.” so she could drop the subject. From afar, Spencer watched as you left a building with a glare on your face. He wondered what you were feeling and if your expression always told you off.

“There she is. Not looking happy.” Emily said, simply, not relating it to the use of any substances out of respect. She could only imagine what he was going through, being forced to watch someone she loves slowly lose themselves over something so trivial, but at the same time, dangerous as a substance.

Spencer pressed his lips on a thin line.

—

You laid there, on a big, albeit uncomfortable bed, simply enduring the sloppy, much erratic thrusts of a man who was old enough to be your dad. Grandfather, if you pushed it a little bit. Internally, you chuckled bitterly at the thought, because those two decided to want distance from you a long, long time ago. You had turned out into a person who many people didn't want to be associated with, so you kind of understood their attitude towards you. Still, it didn't make navigating through this world all by yourself any easier. In fact, it stung harder than you cared to admit, but, for the most part of the time, you were as high as a kite — your coping mechanism to shield your brain for reminiscing about the disgusting, vile man that you had to... satisfy to avoid starving to death. It was a never ending cycle. A torturous one that you wouldn't wish upon your worst enemy.

Speaking of which, the man above you came on your stomach, meaning that the appointment had finally reached its end. You couldn't quite pinpoint if he was the first, second or even third man you've encountered that night, but you didn't care. The effects of the dope made sure you wouldn't remember them the next day. Actually, it had been a while since you had been exposed to daylight. Your routine consisted of being around all night with those men, getting home, scrubbing your skin hard enough to draw blood as you showered, trying to get rid of the feeling of the greedy, disgusting hands all over your body, sleeping all day, getting high and repeating it all over again. Some nights you didn’t have too much strength to do it all. Some days felt like they mashed together with how long it felt with the same ache, the same hole in your chest. Your life was miserable, and you often caught yourself thinking if it was worth it. And, if it was, what for?

"You're so good, princess, kept quiet all the time and shit." The man said as he pulled his shirt back on, covering his thin frame. You cleaned yourself the best you could with a washcloth. "You’re fairly pretty… If you weren't a junkie, I might take you home with me... keep you all to myself, you know?" He inquired, a smirk dancing around his features.

You didn't dignify him with an answer. Instead, you glared at him, even though he couldn't see your face, grabbed the money that had been placed in the nightstand and made a beeline to the door.

You stared at that money with burning rage. If you didn't need it so much, you would definitely tear it apart given the hatred coursing through your veins. You gulped, and it tasted bitter, and it was hard to swallow the lump in your throat. You sold yourself for something as ordinary as money, and it made you so angry because your family was swimming in it. Sometimes, you wished they would drown in it, just to see if your anger simmered down.

You weren't always like this, so... so rotten. Coming from a rich, traditional family, people expected highly from you all the time, thus, you had been an excellent, straight A's student, being the valedictorian of your class at a traditional Catholic school without your teachers needing to double check any records. You also volunteered halftime in an institute that helped old people, which made your parents immensely proud. At that time, you had gotten yourself a boyfriend, your high-school sweetheart, getting engaged to him as you started your third year at a great university, majoring in Psychology. It all went down, though, when you started struggling with addiction.

It started with lighter substances, like alcohol. You drank until you started mumbling out the words you meant to say, going even as far as embarrassing yourself and your fiancée multiple times at social gatherings that involved booze. You loved the thrill, the buzz, the lightness it made you feel, instead of the pile of anxiety that built and seeped into your very bones after being so pushed to the edge your entire life. You thought you liked your life, but after being in touch with people who had a much (what you considered to be) easier life than yours, you started to let loose. Since you didn't have any family around you to put you on a tight leash, you lost control altogether.

When your family realized what had happened, too engrossed in their own businesses and investments and money and anything that was more important than their offsprings, it was too late. You couldn't go a day without drinking, dropping out of schoolcALT without thinking about the consequences for your future. Ironically, you knew and understood pretty well the things you were going through, but battling an addiction requires a lot of strength that you didn't know where to find, since you were all alone. After all, you had pushed all your friends away, your fiancée had walked out on you and your family basically disowned you.

Left to your own devices and unable to keep a steady, serious job, despite your background, you found yourself in the streets.

Sigh.

Opening the door to your small apartment, you got rid of the clothes that began to reek of alcohol, throwing them mindlessly on the floor. You rushed to the bathroom and stared at your own reflection for a moment, noticing the dark spots under your eyes, your dry lips and the lifeless gaze that your eyes had turned into. You had lost quite a bit of weight, now looking like a dead skull, wandering around, doomed to search for any reason to continue living in a world that had been pitch black.

In the bathtub, you scratched your skin aggressively, not being able to avoid the feeling of the remnants of several unknown men, which sensation brought up the comparison that you felt similar to a person who suffers with phantom limb pain: you couldn't see their hands, you couldn't come up with anyone's face, but you couldn't avoid sensing their touch on your skin. But, unlike the syndrome, you didn't feel pain, feeling rather like needles were seeping into your skin, deep enough to reach your bones. But, like the syndrome, it felt like it was yours. Their touch, although invisible, was forever inked into your skin.

You couldn't help the tears running down your face, mixing themselves with the water that poured from the shower. Tears of both pain, disgust, desperation, regret. It was a whirlwind of emotions that you couldn't deal with. As you left the bathroom, you downed half a bottle of vodka, hoping that it would lull you to sleep.

Maybe for good this time.

—

A loud banging on your door roused you from sleep. Your mouth felt dry and your skin felt even worse — it felt like it had been days since you last drank water. Maybe it was true. The loud noise made your head throb in pain. Curled in bed, you tried to muffle the sounds by covering your ears with your hands, but it was just as annoying. The person on the other side of the door seemed hell-bent on seeing you, but you couldn't come up with anyone other than your landlord, because your rent was supposed to be paid yesterday.

Getting up from your bed with a groan of annoyance and pain, you threw on a flannel you found on the floor. Opening the door, you were surprised to see your older brother.

"Y-you?" You asked, baffled. Embarrassed by your own appearance.

"It's me." He said, the usual serious edge to his voice. He said your name, hesitantly. "Can I come in?"

You didn't know what he wanted. The fact that you had been left alone for so long made your heart burn with anger and you wanted to slam the door in his face. You considered it for a moment, but it wouldn't take a genius to know that you needed someone with you, even if for just a couple of minutes, even if it was out of pity. You didn't mind. You relied on the kindness of people to get by, so what harm would it be in accepting a little more pity? More self loathing than you already had and constantly feeded inside you? You judged it impossible.

With a curt nod, you gave him space to enter your apartment. The place was a mess, clothes scattered around, curtains drawn closed, the darkness in the room not only caused by the absence of sunlight. Something somber stopped light from entering. Your brother looked around with an unreadable expression and saw the countless bottles everywhere, from the floor to the couch, not to mention the many white remains on the surfaces like the small coffee table. He blinked away tears, desolate to see you in that position. Desperate to find words. Desperate to find you again in that vessel of a human you had become.

Clearing his throat, “I… heard what's happening. I was worried so I came all the way here to check on you.”

You bit back a bitter laughter. How could someone be this cruel? Abandon you and then treat you like you mattered? It made you almost want to throw up. “I'm alive. Happy?” You couldn't help the snarky remark.

“Come on, you know I'm not like them.” He defended, not able to look you in the eye.

You took a deep, shaky breath, trying to keep your emotions at bay. “If you weren't, you wouldn't have left me, too.”

“Come on, I was going through my own shit, I didn't realize what you were going through until it was too late.”

“Too late? Too late? I spent all my days wishing any of you would pick up the damn phone so that someone could come and get me before I was dead. But you're all the same. So self absorbed, so selfish, so… individualistic.” Your words were daggers, but you couldn't stop yourself from being mean, from trying to push away the only person who seemingly had an interest in helping you. Too bad you felt it was a little too late.

“Don't say that.”

At this point, the verbal vomiting was unstoppable. You sure looked like a maniac, rambling and jumping inconsistently from one topic to another, aiming to hurt him as much as they have hurt you, too. You knew what you were doing, but it felt for a moment that something else was forcing such cruelness out of your mouth. “The final blow was grandma dying, right? So you could finally pretend I don't exist. Keep doing that.”

“Let me help you.” He pleaded, coming close to you.

“I don't need your help.”

“If you don't accept it now, you're gonna spend more time wishing you had.” He said, holding your hands with his own.

“How are you going to help me? By sending me money so that I spend it all on drugs? On booze? Hah, nice one, really.”

“I wouldn't help you kill yourself.” He almost shouted, rage and sadness fighting over which would be the dominant feeling in his eyes.

“Then how? I basically just told you I'm helpless. I'm a ghost. I stopped existing a long time ago.” A sob broke through you, echoing in the walls of your dark apartment. You shut your eyes. “I don't know who I am anymore.”

Silence.

He's probably thinking everything through. Trying to find a way to let me down gently, you thought. “Let me take you somewhere safe. We'll see how it goes.”

You didn't expect that much. Despite wanting to say yes, your mouth was seemingly disconnected from your brain, so your words took a whole different turn. Instead of accepting his help, you simply stated, “I don't think I would stand to let you down again. I'm sorry.” He looks at you, bewildered, but, to you, not strong enough to put up a fight. “Can you please leave? I'm waiting for a friend.”

Defeated, he walks out the door. 

You don't notice the paper with his number left on the kitchen counter. When Renée shows up, dressed in a skin-tight red dress, she sees and runs her finger on the note as if it could save her from every single risk her life could show her. 

—

"We found another body."

Amidst the research and data analysis required to provide the profile, Spencer Reid got easily lost on his obligations and far too focused on his duties in order to help people as fast as he could, which was why he was seemingly terrified of one of the local officer's voice. 

At the crime scene, the found body was once Renée Woods. Spencer watched from afar as the coroner  examined their body and as Derek and Emily searched frantically for anything they could do to help, whether it was examining the crime scene or simply talking to the assigned legists. Spencer, unlike them, stood still. Muscles unable to make any movements besides clenching his hands in fists so tight that his somewhat long nails almost cut through the sensitive skin.

How would you take the news?

What if that was you?

The thought went as quickly as it came, because, from afar, he watched as you showed up, looking skeptical, but soon becoming hysterical once you recognized her, even from a certain distance. You could tell it was her by the clothes she was wearing. You cried hysterically, screaming as if someone had torn apart your heart with their bare hands, sobbing as if you couldn't breathe unless Renée was walking the Earth. A cop touching you, instead of soothing your turmoil, only served as a fuel to the fire raging through you. Sadness, anger, desperation, panic, everything flooding your chest, ragging your breath. You pushed the man away, trying to find a way to enter the crime scene.

Spencer finally was taking control of his body again. Approaching you, calmly, as if you would attack him too if he got too close and too abruptly, or worse, you’d run away, he made his way to you. Noticing your red-rimmed eyes, he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

“You said you’d do your best,” you said in a broken voice, looking him in the eye. Defeated.

Silence. All the noise seemed dull, distant, far away. You were in a bubble.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, wide eyes looking at his confused ones. Right now, talking to you felt like whiplash. “I know it wasn’t your fault. I didn’t mean to accuse or blame you. Fuck,” you cursed, bringing your hands to your eyes. “Can I do anything to help? I can… I can try.”

Unbeknownst to you, Emily Prentiss watched your interactions with a puzzled look on her face. You looked and acted so distraught that she felt the need to approach, mindful of the damage the words from an enraged, saddened close friend of a victim would do. Unable to stop her own feet, she approached you. Spencer wouldn't utter a word. You looked nervous, looking from her to him and obsessively trying to wipe your tears that seemingly had their own will to run on your face.

"Can you come with me?" She offered, handing out a blanket for you. You looked at her and amidst the mixed feelings that the grief started etching into your eyes, you could give her a grateful glance.

By her side, you looked at Spencer, who was still frozen in place.

"I'm sorry..." You whispered, looking at the ground.  

He looked straight ahead. Once you were with Emily, he glanced your way with a pitiful look on his face.

—

Days passed. You were in the precinct once they called Renée’s family to break the morbid news. You watched as her mother fell to her knees once one of them told her what had happened to her daughter. You heard the chanting of "I failed, I failed, I failed..." endlessly. And by endlessly, you mean it is still haunting you to this day.

For three days, all you did was escape reality, whether by sleeping or doing drugs. Your brother's contact sat still on the kitchen counter, collecting dust and meaning hesitation from your end.

On the fourth day, you were sober for a couple of hours. You opened the curtains and despite the darkness still loomed around, it felt better. It burned, but in a nice way. As you stared at the note in the counter, untouched, Emily Prentiss knocked on your door to let you know that they were close to catching the killer. His profile was complete, it seemed. Something about a man in his 40s taking out the frustration of his parents’ broken marriage because of his father’s infidelity and his own divorce because of his affairs. Cyclic. Looking at your wrecked state, she told you all about him.

"Why are you telling me this?" You asked as Renée’s mother chant still echoed in your mind.

"First, I thought you needed hope. Second, I was thinking you might recognize him.”

Needless to say, she was right. Your lungs burned at each breath you took, and, in that moment, you decided you would try to be strong. Stronger. Renée’s face came to mind. You had nothing left to lose if you exposed a few rich men. Thanking Emily, you said softly, your tone contrasting with the vile nature of your words, “You said he dumped the girls in a specific place, right?” She nodded. “I don’t know if anyone told you about this one place, but they take some of the girls there. It’s kind of off-radar” 

As you gave her the location, her surprise betrayed her usual composure. “No, nobody did.”

“Do you think it could be helpful?”

—

You found yourself in one of aforementioned building’s room along with Dr. Spencer Reid, as sort of your protector, while the others patrolled the building and the people who came and went, and the local cops lurked around downtown, in the park. You felt nervous, reminiscing about your last interaction with the man. Taking a deep breath, you sat down on a chair. “May I ask you something?” You inquired, carefully. He hadn’t talked much to you unless it was information about what you knew and what he needed to know. He nodded at you, turning his attention to your figure. "Do you like your job? I only ask because... you know... nobody really likes this job."

"... I do, yeah." He muttered, albeit not the whole truth. It was gruesome, but he thought he could manage. Besides, you didn’t need to be exposed to even more disaster. It was bad enough as it was.

"I don’t know if you know or acknowledge this, but not many people choose to do this. It's more of a last option, the one you really don't wanna take." You justified, even though you didn’t quite know why.

You supposed it was the embarrassment that came with being with a man who knew what you did but wasn’t with you to do that.

Understanding flooded his features, a soft "I understand." making its way out of his lips.

"Thanks." I say with a tight-lipped smile. "It means a lot."

He nodded. "You keep fiddling with your necklace."

"It's a locker, actually. It's a picture of me and my grandmother. I don't wear it when I'm.. um... Anyway, it's kinda sacred to me." You chuckled, gripping the accessory tighter. “I wore it today so that it would give me the strength needed to help Renée. And myself.”

He glances at you as if he wanted to know more. After a beat of silence and deciding that it was enough, "Do you have a good relationship with her?"

"I did. We were very close, but she passed away last year, sort of giving my family the free pass to cut me out entirely. I believe they think that I was the one who killed her, my life choices and whatnot."

He furrowed his brows. "You didn't choose this."

"In a way, I did. I knew what I was doing, I just couldn't stop. It's just that... It felt good not to have so much pressure on me, you know? I felt finally free... but what did it cost me? A safe relationship, my education, my family and friends… They never gave me a chance, not even to explain myself. I needed help. Thus far, I have had company my entire life. I didn't know how to exist. Then one of those girls helped me, but I realized that she was struggling to pay rent and I needed to do something, not just sit pretty and be high with the money I had left.”

His silence was unexpected.

In reality, it was caused by the cliché of watching your life passing before your eyes took over his mind. He remembered being drugged by Tobias Hankel, he remembered the needles puncturing his skin and the relief he felt from the entire situation once the substance started running through his veins. He remembered taking Dilaudid from his abductor’s pockets and he remembered staring at his own reflection in the mirror and finding a stranger looking back at him. He remembered being given a chip of sobriety even though he wasn’t sober for that long. He remembered thinking of himself as unworthy as he became more and more dependent, especially when he couldn’t even disguise how affected, how it changed him. Looking at your defeated face, he muttered, “I understand. It changes your perception of things and yourself.”

You could act oblivious and assume that his knowledge of the topic came from books, but you don’t see that expression on just anybody’s face. You felt sorry for him. Sensing he didn’t want to talk about himself any further, even if, in your opinion, wasn’t nearly enough for someone who had battled something as deep as an addiction, you decided to respect his wish. You talked about yourself instead, hoping to give him something, someone to relate to, as you desperately wanted for yourself. “I wasn’t always like this.”

“I’m sure you weren’t.” His voice held that tinge of something you couldn’t quite describe, something distant, but so close at the same time. He saw himself in you, almost if he was talking to himself.

He might have had Penelope check your background. Something about the lost potential resonated deep within him, and it made him all the more anxious to be close to you, to repair something he hadn’t been the one to break. As he looked at you, all he could see was someone in dire need of something, someone to grasp onto. “How does one manage to move past all that?"

Despite the will growing and boiling inside of him, he couldn’t just come up with a magic solution to cut through the darkness surrounding you. "Honestly, I don't know." You couldn’t see when he gulped.

"It's a long way from home. At least, for me."

For a moment, you looked at each other, mouths shut, not a single beat of sound around you. You looked at him, searching for answers and for someone to relate to. Spencer hesitated for a moment, the silence hanging over you like a fog. He wasn't trying to seem disinterested or unkind, but he felt as if his curt phrases weren’t enough to calm your heart. He spoke again, his voice softer, offering a hint of deeper sincerity, "Sorry, I..." he trailed off, unsure how to convey his thoughts without making the situation more hurtful. "I'm sure you can manage it with the right people."

Your grip on your locket softened, letting it fall close to your chest once you let it go. Looking at him, a soft melody started playing in your head.

Patience.

“I’m sorry,” you said, earnestly, which made him look at you with recognition. “Thanks for talking to me. It’s been a while.” 

I missed this feeling.

—

After a few moments, the BAU team had captured the man before he could collect another soul. Everything happened so fast. In one moment, you were in a superficially verbal conversation with Spencer. Despite the shallow nature of the words exchanged, digging deeper, the interaction was filled to the brim with meaning, which made you rethink a thing or two. You shared that much with him.

“Goodbye.” He said, simply. To you, he was not one to speak much. “You’ll be home by spring.” I can’t wait ‘til then, he thought.

“Goodbye, doctor.”

Next thing you knew, as you got home, all by yourself, you decided to reach out for your brother. Telling him you needed help, that you were pessimistic but that it would be foolish not to at least try.

Days at rehab went on as smoothly as they could, considering you were suffering with withdrawal. Your behavior and emotions swayed like waves on a lake surface on a windy day. Deeply unstable, your mind was forced to remember all the hell you’ve been through on a daily basis for the last sad months of your life. Grieving for the version of you you could have been, for Renée, for your sense of self, self-respect and whatever you had lost during those dark times. Often, your hands trembled, you felt cold in a warm, cozy room and there were times your skin felt ablaze, not to mention the whirlwind of thoughts that made your head hurt. You missed feeling numb.

And when I was shipwrecked, I thought of you.

Still, there were afternoons that you would sit on the porch of your bedroom and simply take in the surroundings. The green grass that was taken better off by the employees like it was someone’s first born. The other patients who walked around and closed their eyes as they felt the sun kissing their skin for what it felt like the first time in years. The trees that casted shadows on the grass so that some of them could lay beneath them. The breeze that engulfed your figure and gently touched you, unlike you had been treated. The immense sense of belonging to this existence, of not longer being a stranger to your own life. You would take deep breaths and your lungs wouldn’t ache like before. You pictured the two reasons responsible for making you take the decision that brought you to this place sitting next to you. You held what was left of one of them between your fingertips.

The sudden and constant mood swings made your attitude change at breakneck speed.

Tonight, taking a quick break from the notebook you were scribbling on, you took a look around you. At that moment, everything around you was spinning. You couldn’t breathe, feeling as if the hands that touched you in the past stopped you from inhaling oxygen altogether. You shut your eyes closed and tried to breathe in like the doctors had told you to when things got too hard — it was not working. Panicking further, you stumbled your way to the ensuite bathroom and took a good look at your reflection. You felt shivers running down your body, an uncomfortable feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach as you desperately tried to turn on the faucet to splash some cold water to your face. Unsuccessful, to say the least.

The feeling grew as time went by. You couldn’t stand the discomfort and the memories and the feeling of being inappropriate to go back to living in the real world again. For a moment, you quieted your struggle. You gave in. You glanced at the mirror and although the tears blurred your vision, you were able to wonder if that was your opportunity of finally having the control of your life back. Maybe it was for the better, you thought as you reached for the small blade you secretly kept on the bathroom window. As you started feeling dizzy by the lack of oxygen, you couldn’t help but to think back to the interaction you exchanged with Spencer before you thought of accepting your brother’s offer. Picturing his face, of himself as a person and as a professional, you thought that, for a moment, he was a reflection of all that you wanted to be, all you wanted for yourself.

The blood that gushed from the open cuts of your arms, that drained from your body, felt like the catharsis you needed from all the mishaps that had taken place in your life. As you watched it dribble down your skin and as it stained the floor, you took a deep, difficult breath, feeling lightheaded. No thoughts swarmed your mind anymore. A sob, from both the dull sting of the cuts and of your difficulty breathing, echoed through the bathroom.

No!, you thought you heard a familiar voice scream.

In the cracks of light, I dreamed of you.

Finally taking short puffs of breaths, you kept thinking this was it. That it was for the better. That nothing could save you, nothing could stop the blood from cleansing you and taint the floor in the process. You finally shut your eyes as the tears never ceased to flow from your eyes, feeling hands squeezing your arms where you had drawn vertical lines with the blades. From that moment, everything around you felt mixed, the swaying of a vehicle, the alarmed voices, the brightness behind your eyelids. You never opened your eyes. You couldn't bear to open them and still be here, facing the people who were doing their best to help you.

As you lost consciousness, you finally found peace, your mind finally quieted down, the hands stopped touching your body. You thought you managed a weakened smile in your state.

;

Spencer, much like you, didn't keep much track of the time as it passed, for the things in his world happened too fast and burned too bright. As he approached his desk in the bullpen and he was reading through some emails, dread adorning his features and panic setting in the pit of his stomach as he read your brother's name on the screen — whose contact he had gotten after you were admitted in rehab — and the news he was sharing.

;

You didn't know how much time you had spent unconscious. You didn't have any dreams. You didn't have any thoughts. You were completely numb, as if you were surrounded by a bubble that protected you from anything that could possibly happen.

As you opened your eyes, you recognized a hospital room, wires and needles and the unmistakable smell of that place. Looking at your arms, you noticed the bandages that hid the scars that were certainly forming by now, if the dull ache was anything to go by. When you slowly felt reality creeping in, you didn't dare to look up, afraid to find a judgmental or angry look on someone's face. You focused solely on breathing, too frightened of your surroundings.

You gulped and your throat felt so dry that it almost scratched, which made you erupt in a fit of coughs. That drew the attention of a person sitting right next to you, which you hadn't noticed, too preoccupied with someone's reaction.

Slowly looking up, you found Dr. Reid’s face. You couldn't quite begin to read his expression, as his eyes were full of relief once he saw you were still alive. Hanging by a thread, but still alive. You didn't bother to speak after he silently held a bottle of water with a straw on it for you to drink. Neither did he. At least for some amount of time.

“I didn't know how bad this could get. I mean, I do know, but not because of the reason you probably think. It's not just because I have to study human behavior, but also because I was abducted and drugged,” he started, losing the bravery that it took to look you in the eye. “I know you have nothing to do with this. And that it makes me sound very selfish, because, um, I'm here talking about myself when you are so fragile and so broken, but it's just because I know what you're going through. I know what it's like to not recognize yourself. When we talked in that room, for the first time, I felt alive. I felt seen. I felt like I had finally found a little, small, fleeting piece of myself that had wandered too far once I was… addicted.”

You just took in his words. You already knew why he related to you so much, but hearing him talk so freely and unabashedly about his experience made you somewhat perk up. “I'm in a lot of trouble, aren't I?” You managed to mutter in a weak voice.

“It depends on what you think you're going to do now.” 

“It's a lot of work.”

“Not if it's you.”

“How could you possibly say that?”

“I know a little about your background. My friend looked you up. You looked promising.”

“Yes, past tense. Now I'm just this… vessel of a human. I don't think I have blood, let alone the guts to face the world after this.”

“I'm not calculating your worth on your accomplishments or on the person you used to be.” He sighed, softly.

“Do I even still have worth?”

“Of course you do.”

“Don't waste your breath on me. How could you be so sure?”

“I just do.”

Little did you know, Spencer Reid was not one to pry where it wasn't welcome, but he spent every day letting his mind run to you. He couldn't help but think about you and whether you were actually doing good after the decision you decided to share with him. That was how he found himself having some unsent letters that were soon ripped and thrown away. Telling you about him, wondering about you, wondering if you two could relate on different topics.

“Would it be weird to ask you to trust me on this one?”

“What's the worst that could happen?”

For the first time in years, you had a sincere smile on your face. 

—

The next day, you woke up to a letter addressed to you, which you knew who it was from. 

Your lifeline.

This pain wouldn’t be for evermore.

[winniewritesstories]

thinking about....soldier boy (ben) with a doe-coded reader ⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ all sfw | can be read as gn!reader ⋆˚｡⋆౨ৎ

⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆

⟡ you're a supe with the power to communicate with animals

⟡ you live in the woods near a small rural town, in the new england area. most people leave you alone - your supe powers aren't the most useful for vought. the locals think you're some kind of witch or woodland nymph and give you space, too

⟡ your little cottage is always full of animals, both domestic and wild. deer, foxes, sparrows on your lawn, cats that come and go, rescued dogs of all sizes lounging on your porch.

⟡ butcher & the boys need your help with finding the deep, hoping you can communicate with sea creatures (you've never tried before) to find him and help then track down homelander

⟡ ben is dragged along against his will, grumbling the whole drive there. when they pull up to your cottage, wisteria growing around the doorway, rose bushes with bees buzzing around, he rolls his eyes.

⟡ the front door opens, and there you stand, wearing a little blue or pink or yellow dress, a small kitten hanging out in the pocket of your apron, no shoes on

⟡ you don't ask who they are or why they're there; you just give them a beautiful big smile and greet them, half a dozen dogs following you out the house

⟡ ben has never seen anything so perfect and pure in all his life

⟡ you invite them inside, make tea and serve it with biscuits you just made. there's a robin living in your lounge and what looks like a domesticated mountain lion laying on the bottom step, eying your guests warily

⟡ you listen intently to butcher, wide eyes blinking earnestly, lips slightly parted, and ben just watches you the entire time, taking you in...

⟡ your cheeks, freckled from spending so much time in the sun; the way animals of all shapes and sizes flock to you for safety and comfort; how you're always padding around your home or garden or nearby forest barefoot, curling your toes into the grass. the way you tend your garden, picking flowers to weave into your hair, greeting the bumble bees, making polite conversation with passing crows. the soft tunes you hum or whistle, or the way you sing softly to yourself and your animals as you go about your day

⟡ ben is a goner. practically drooling at how pretty and soft and innocent you are.

⟡ he's obsessed with you after that first meeting, basically following you around like another dog. if you weren't so gentle and affectionate with everyone and everything, you might find it creepy or unnerving or irritating

⟡ but you don't mind him at all, finding his company nice and his attentiveness endearing (he's not the first wild animal you've tamed, after all)

⟡ he basically never uses your name, resorting to any one of a hundred nicknames - princess, dolly, fawn, sweet girl, kitten, pretty girl, my love, little dove

⟡ as you get more comfortable with each other, he'd lay his head in your lap by the fire or under the warm afternoon sun, and you'd scratch his head, playing gently with his hair

⟡ the first time he here's you giggle he actually melts, his heart thawing at the sound, wishing he could bottle it and replay it forever and ever.

⟡ when it gets cold and you wrap yourself in a soft sweater which is too big for you, sleeves covering your hands and he wants to wrap you up and whisk you somewhere warm (although he secretly loves the cold now, getting to hold you close - 'here, dolly, i'll warm you up', he says, pulling you back to sit in his lap, big, strong arms wrapped around you)

⟡ you don't get angry or upset often, but when you do ben thinks it's the most adorable thing ever, the way you huff and pout and stomp around lightly, whining at ben 'don't be mean' and he melts and kisses your nose and says 'i'm sorry, princess', because he can't be teasing or angry with you when you look so sweet

⟡ he finds himself talking to the animals the way he'd seen you do, even if he couldn't understand them. one morning he's sat on the porch, watching you pick vegetables, and he starts talking to the dogs by his feet about the weather and wonders if he's finally cracked

⟡ he basically becomes another feral dog that you tame and becomes an added guard dog to your already large pack. growls at people in the street if they bump your shoulder, stares down frenchie and butcher when they visit, and if he had a tail it'd definitely wag every time he looked at you

⟡ learns how to make tea just the way you like it

⟡ loves, loves, loves to make you blush, watch you get shy and flustered over the silliest little things. drives him mad the way you bite your lip, looking down at your feet or fiddling with your hands, cheeks flushed pink

⟡ never considered himself an animal guy before, but now he befriends all kinds of creatures, thinks twice about buying leather or wool, and even brings home a stray cat he found in a dumpster once

⟡ your favourite love language is physical touch, and you absolutely adore showering ben with affection; butterfly kisses, nose kisses, pressing your forehead against his. sometimes you'll be lay under a willow tree or in bed, and you get all smiley and giggly and plant kisses all over ben's face, shoulders, chest, anywhere you can reach. as you sit back, face blush, hair tousled, slightly breathless with a giddy smile, ben's heart twists almost painfully in his chest, realising how much he loves you and how much that scares him

⟡ he secretly loves the fact he can be gentle and laid back with you, dare i say soft. after a lifetime of fighting, he likes to unwind with you and your animals, and you make him feel much more human. you don't want to use or abuse him, don't need him to be soldier boy, or a hero, don't need him to be anything other than just ben

⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆

notes -

thank you for reading!! first little h/c set like this, please let me know if you like it!! ᡣ𐭩

[not proofread]

[urfavlarry]

Cinematics

A/N. this is set in the modern era, so basically the marauders but it’s in 2024, no voldemort, everyone is just happy and alive !! plus this isnso bad istg💀🙏 im so sorry

summary. looking back on soft launching your relationship with Severus during your youthful years at hogwarts and comparing it to present time

requested. yes || no

not.yn

liked by s.snape, jamie.potter, b.rregulus and 17 others

not.yn Hey lover<3

ׂ╰➤ jamie.potter, b.rregulus and 3 others commented

jamie.potter maybe the schools weirdo can pull after all

b.rregulus when???? what???

lils.evans so happy for the both of u!! >w<

╰➤ jamie.potter yh me too or whateverׂ

╰➤ not.yn simp

posted 8 years ago

s.snape

liked by not.yn, lils.evans, rj.lupin and 39 others

s.snape You’re my, my, my.. My kind of woman 🤍

╰➤ not.yn, lils.evans, and 6 others commented

not.yn 🤍🤍🤍

lils.evans the best couple at hogwarts 🥰

╰➤ jamie.potter what about uss 💔

╰➤ rj.lupin and you called severus weird…

╰➤ jamie.potter THAT WAS IN 4TH YEAR???? STOP??

╰➤ s.snape i know what you did

╰➤ jamie.potter IM LIT GETTING ATTACKED RN YOU FORGAVE US LIKE HALF A YEAR AGO??

╰➤ not.yn bully allert cancel him🙏

posted 7 years ago

mary.macd0nald

liked by s.snape, b.rregulus, mars.mckinns and 25 others

mary.macd0nald enemies to friends (and some to lovers) 🌻

╰➤ not.yn, lils.evans, and 2 others commented

not.yn never would’ve thought we would all be a big friend group one day 🥹🤍

╰➤ s.snape tell me about it

lils.evans yesterday was so funn!! love you guys

mars.mckinns we need to do this again sometime!

posted 7 years ago

not.yn

liked by s.snape, jamie.potter, lils.evans, mary.mcd0nald and 68 others

not.yn welcome to the world baby girl 🤍 13/10/2024

╰➤lils.evans, s.black and 7 others commented

s.snape my two beautiful girls ❤️

lils.evans shes so cute 💞 proud of you mama

s.black uncles are gonna teach her how to have fun 🥰

╰➤ not.yn hell nah 🤺🤺

╰➤ jamie.potter hell yes ;)

╰➤ rj.lupin leave the poor baby alone she hasn’t even been home for a week yet (congratulations 🤍)

mary.macd0nald was just looking back on our teenage years!! so happy to have a new addition to our little group ❤️

b.rregulus can’t wait to meet her

mars.mckinns girl that speed ticket to the hospital was so worth it. happy for the both of you ❤️

posted 1 month ago

“Hun, what are you doing?” Severus whispered as he closed the door of your daughters room. He layed down on the coach next to you, putting a hand over your shoulders to bring you close, a smile spreading across your face, heart thumping even after so many years of being together. Severus looks down at your phone and his eyes turn to one of shock once he notices the photos he thought he’d never see again.

“You still have those? Thought you deleted them since it was like.. when we were 16?” He raised a brow and scrolled through the many pictures that had been taken in your younger years. “Yeah I just felt.. nostalgic. I’ve never deleted them off my account and I don’t plan to.” A chuckle leaves Severus’ throat and shows you the picture of him you took at the time you announced your relationship, putting it next to his face. “You think I’ve changed much?”

“Not really, you just don’t have your long-long hair anymore. We’re just 23 Severus, what were you expecting at this age? Wrinkles?” You flick his forehead and he winces sarcastically, giving you a dramatic pained expression. “You hurt me, darling.” He sits up and cups your cheek, pulling you into his lap with a sweet smile. “And I must say you’ve grown out of your shy phase and you do smile a lot more.. however I can’t say the same when were around other people.” You smirk, tucking a strand of loose hair behind his ear. “And you haven’t grown out of your constant teasing.” He grunted into your neck and embraced you to hide the small smile forming on his lips. “What can I say? I guess adulthood hasn’t quite kicked in yet.”

However your statement got cut short once you heard your daughters sobs, which died down just as quick as they started. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as Severus breathed out a laugh. “You were saying?” He whispered, looking deep into your eyes im which he could’ve gotten lost in during that very moment. He lifted you in his arms and walked with you in his arms to your bedroom, laying you down onto the bed.

“How about we.. get a bit more nostalgic tonight, hm?”

© URFAVLARRY

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE OR COPY ANY OF MY WRITING TO OTHER PLATFORMS

[dominicfikeenthusiast]

UNSENT LETTERS (PART 2) / MATT STURNIOLO

“old shoe box underneath his bed, filled with love letters”

part 1

after what seemed like eternity, all your classes had finished, meaning officially the end of the day. you quickly packed up your bag, basically sprinting to matt’s locker. you clung unto his arm trying to catch your breath.

matt was taken aback when you arrived to his locker almost immediately after the bell rang.“hey there, what’s the rush?” matt asked, a small smirk on his face. your hand gently squeezing his arm, felt so right to him.

for the past couple of months, the effect you had on matt was more than he could ever describe. every innocent touch or every-time you smiled at him, matt had to control the fact that he wanted to kiss you right there. it was starting to become a problem.

he always had a crush on you, even growing up. it used to be a little one, he always hid it, not even telling his brothers. obviously there had been other girls, tons. but every-time he’d always catch himself falling for you again & again.

“matt let’s go!” your voice cuts into his thoughts. he realizes both nick & chris are now also waiting for him. matt clears his throat, “oh uh yeah, let’s go” he says. all of them ramble about their day on the car ride. eventually dropping you off. “tell us how the date goes!” nick yells out from the car window. “and keep it p.g!” chris adds on with a smug smile on his face.

you walk into your room, rummaging through your entire closet, until every article of clothing you own is scattered around the room. after trying on what seemed like a million items, you settled for something simple. a mini jean skirt and a flowy lace tank top. just as you were rushing to pick a pair of shoes, you heard the doorbell ring. brayden. the date you’d been hoping for the past 2 years, finally here.

matt sat at home helplessly sulking in his bed. his thoughts drifting to you. god he wish he could just you how he felt. maybe then you wouldn’t be getting ready for a date with another guy right now.

·:*¨༺ ♱ ੈ‧₊˚ ✮ ੈ‧₊˚ ♱ ༻¨*:·

𝜗𝜚 - ps. second part of my first ever seriesss! ahhh, thank u for all the love & support 🤍🤍

𝜗𝜚 - tags : @ifwdominicfike @bells-sturn @sturnxies @iheartmattsbeard @chrislilcumslvt @mattsmiddlepartt @chrissv4mp @flouvela @chrisfavoritewhore @luckystarlogs @snowysosturn @x0x0bunny @anastasia-ac3rr3 @submattenthusiast @s7attr @jassturn @liasturniolo @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @ilovedyoumiss @kirby0strombolli @milaatyourworst @ginswife @skibidijewishgirl @adoreechxmpion @lovesturni0l0s @bandanamatt @clairomatt @rorylovesmatt @pasteldreams @chris-hallelujah @y3sterdaysproblem @mattserenity @chrispleasure @jetaimevous @heartz4matt

[nashyuck]

Dangerous

(Idol x reader, hook up, nda, tds3, foreplay, oral sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names, obsession)

Summary; Imagine the face y/n made when she realized an NDA was right in front to her face. What was a first-time VIP Nctdream experience, turned into amazing sex with Jaemin.

warnings; mature content MINORS DNI!

_____________________________________________________________

Ticketing for Nctdream was the most stressful experience. Y/n spent all of her lunch break anticipating how ticketing would go, as she is a high school teacher who had a whole class during ticketing. To her surprise, she was able to get VIP tickets to Nctdream, for both her and her best friend.

"Talk about stressful, I'm surprised that none of my students questioned the random movie day on a Tuesday"

"Those should be the last of your worries, we're literally seeing our men in 1 month," Ali said, she and Y/n had originally met at an Nct cup sleeve event years back and remained close friends.

FORWARD TO A MONTH LATER

"oh, I'm so anxious, they'll be able to see us, what if I get called backstage"

"oh lord if you get called backstage jaemin will get the best head ever" Ali added as she and Y/n laughed.

Making those comments was normal amongst the two, as it was all for shit and giggles not that they actually believed that they would be given the chance to jump any of the dreamies bones.

Upon arrival at the venue, Y/n and Ali were given early entry as they obtained VIP access.

"OH MY GOD, Jaemin is so fucken hot" y/n whispered to her friend. Not wanting for the others to hear.

______________________________________________________________

Jaemin was never attracted to any of his fans, and he never considered hooking up with any of them. Unlike his members who liked to hook up with women at every stop during tour. They claimed that it was for stress relief.

That was until he spotted a girl in the crowd looking at him and turning to whisper something to her friend. He was curious as to what the gorgeous woman with the top so low whose tits were basically out for him to see had possibly said to cause her friend to giggle.

Throughout the concert, he couldn't help but be drawn to this woman, to his luck during Poison performance he was placed right in front of the beautiful girl.

Making eye contact with her the whole time drawing her in, causing his eyes to go dark and be filled with lust. She smiled at him biting her lip and observing Jaemin's movements. He felt himself start to harden. Eternally grateful that they were given a 3-minute break for an outfit change.

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

"bitch jaemin was basically fucking you with those eyes girl," Ali said.

"All alright let's not be dramatic, in my defense he was set in front of us and the song was giving fuck me vibes" Y/n was undeniable that Jaemin would ever even consider letting her jump his bones.

The rest of the concert was a blur, y/n only remembers crying and dancing. The concert had ended, y/n and her friend got their belonging and headed towards the exit as they were stopped by security and guided to an empty room.

"This is starting to scare me, why are we still here is 12 AM," Ali said as she felt extremely sleepy and anxious.

A man who appeared to be part of the TDS3 work crew entered the room. He was wearing a TDS3 merch shirt, some sunglasses, and a baseball cap.

"Someone has requested for a conversation with you" the man said looking straight at y/n.

"That being said your friend will be dropped at her chosen destination, however, we ask for you to remain in this room, till he arrives and speaks to you about paper work" the man continued.

Ali felt unsure, leaving y/n behind in an empty room waiting for a guy who was a stranger felt worrisome.

"I'll be fine," y/n said insuring Ali that she'd be okay.

After Ali's departure, 5 minutes later the door opened and a tall muscular man appeared in front of y/n.

"Jaemin......... I'm not understanding why am I here?"

"Don't worry baby, I will explain everything and we can set boundaries together" Jaemin's smile was contagious and comforting.

He set various of papers on the table sitting across from y/n.

"darling have you ever signed an NDA?" jaemin questioned.

"I haven't but I've heard about how NDAs work"

"if at any point you feel uncomfortable, please let me know and we can stop, I will make sure you get home safe and no further contact on my behalf will be given," Jaemin said grabbing y/n's hand.

after 10 mins of reading the paper work, y/n knew exactly what the purpose of this was. She had two options, not signing the NDA and missing out on amazing sex with Jaemin or signing the papers and letting Jaemin do whatever he desired with her body.

Y/n did what any other horny woman would have done, she signed the papers and gave them to Jaemin with a smile on her face.

"Looks like you're coming home with me tonight princess"

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

The ride to his hotel was quiet, Jaemin didn't say much but kept his hand on y/n's thigh. Pushing it closer and closer to her core. Causing y/n to heavy breath.

In the blink of an eye, y/n was on her knees begging for jaemin to let her touch him.

"So desperate for his dick, look at you basically salivating and I haven't even taken off my pants"

His eyes were dark and full of lust.

"I knew you'd be desperate but never imagined how turned on you'd get just by being on your knees".

he was so attractive, how can one not get turned on.

"On the bed now, and on your way there take off all your clothes, tired of seeing those on you"

Geez was he so hot as her observed y/n undress leaving nothing but her panties.

"look at those tits, I know you wore that shirt on purpose to get my attention, well guess what it worked," Jaemin said undressing and hovering over y/n. God were his lips soft, and easy to bite. Tongues fighting for control, causing a mess.

Jaemin shifted his lips to y/n's neck, down to her chest, nipple, stomach, and finally her inner thighs.

"You can be as loud as you want baby, my next-door hotel neighbors are the members and I'm sure those assholes are fucking a fan as we speak"

Jaemin's kisses were soft but felt like fire on y/ns skin.

"fuck please Jaemin"

"let's not be greedy baby" Jaemin said as he removed y/n's panties to get a clearer view of her body.

"look how wet you are, bet you taste just as good as you smell"

he was a tease, brushing his fingers against her fluids. He loved hearing her gasp and whine for more.

"fuck baby you taste so fucken good, so addicting, how am I supposed to continue the tour without this pussy"

he continued to eat her out, inserting two fingers.

"FUCK JAEM........."

"that's right baby cum in my mouth" those words sent y/n over the edge and she came all over Jaemin mouth.

He lifted himself up, licking his fingers and smirking at the mess he caused just with his mouth.

"want daddy to fuck you, baby? want me to cum inside you, to claim this gorgeous body of yours"

He was so fucken attractive, the same person who goes on stage as does aegyo for millions of fans, has the most dirty mouth and thoughts. He was so hot!

He hovered over y/n aligning his dick with her hole.

"If you want me to stop just tap me or tell me, okay darling"

Y/n nodded giving him the signal to enter.

As they both gasped, y/n squeezed around Jaemin.

"Fffucck baby, keep doing that and I'll cum fast"

he started off slow but continued to increase his pace, his thrust began to feel rough hitting all the right spots making y/n see stars.

"JAEM you feel so good" y/n whined

"you like that huh, you like it when I'm fast and rough"

"Yes Yes Jaem cumm inside me please"

He was rich enough to impregnate a woman so he never worried about an accident happening. The thought of a mini jaemin was his dream, however, all prior girls were scared of that type of commitment despite knowing his wealth.

"So tight FUCK" jaemin moaned as he released inside of y/n.

"If you're scared of getting pregnant we can run to the store for a plan b but if you're like me who doesn't give a shit and is ready for a baby quit your stupid job and go on tour with me"

"you don't know me, why would you even consider having a baby with me" y/n claimed.

"for starters, you're gorgeous and I can't imagine myself ever being so addicted to another pussy besides yours, you smell and taste so good, I can fuck you all day and night''

"I will consider it," y/n said checking her phone, it was 2 AM. Jaemin and her had been fucking for 2 hours.

[girl-of-many-fandoms]

Pleasant Surprise

Pairing: Louis Tomlinson x Y/N

Summary: After a trip abroad, Louis returns home to his girl.

Warnings: nothing but fluff :)

My first time writing for any of my darlings from 1D. It’s been a rough month, spent the past couple days listening to all their music both individually and in the band which birthed the idea of writing a fic, so here you are.

Ps. I haven’t had the motivation to write anything for almost a year but the boys gave me a little push.

---------

Y/n sighed for what felt like the millionth time today as she kept flipping through the channels on the tv in search of something to entertain herself. When nothing piqued her interest, she gave up. She took a look around her surroundings and decided that she should do some tidying up. It’s been a couple days she’s been in a slum and the pile of clean laundry has been staring at her on the other sofa begging to be folded and put away.  

Throwing the covers off of her, she opened up Spotify to play some music while she started working on the living room. The intro to best song ever filled the room as she pulled her hair up into a messy bun and got up to her feet.  

Excellent choice Spotify, she thought, with a smile on her plump lips. 

Her boyfriend, Louis hadn’t been in the country for almost a month as he went to L.A. to spend time with Freddie during his school break. She missed him dearly but she knows and understands that the little lad was Louis’ world and the last thing she ever wants to do is come between them. For the past couple weeks, she managed to get through her hospital shifts, using it as a distraction from the fact that an empty house waited on her at the end of her twelve-hour shift.  

Louis loved spending time with his son in L.A., they had made the most out of their time together by going to beach, ice-cream runs, playing football together, basically whatever Freddie wanted to do, they did. Amidst all the fun, Louis was desperately missing his girl waiting back home for him. Sometimes he’d feel guilty for having to be away from her but she continuously reminded him that Freddie came first and reassured him that it’s okay for not being around.  

That’s one of the many things he loved about her, her understanding. 

With the laundry all sorted, y/n finished cleaning up the living room by dumping all the accumulating water bottles and empty snack packs that only grew as the days went by. Little black dress came on and she began belting out the lyrics without a care in the world because who was there to judge her? Definitely not her sassy boyfriend. The last time Louis had heard her singing one of Niall’s songs, he teased her about it by saying that Donkey from Shrek had more talent than her. Of course, y/n locked him out the bedroom that night.  

With the area tidied, she moved to the kitchen. The song continued on and she couldn’t help but fully give into the music and started swaying her hips to the sound of Louis’ voice that’s belting through the speakers. She was totally engrossed in the music; she didn’t hear the sound of a car pulling into the driveway nor the sound of the front door being opened and shut.  

Louis lips broke out into a cheeky smile at the song flooding the house mixed with his girl’s voice upon entry. Abandoning his luggage at the door, Louis followed her voice to the kitchen and paused in the doorway. Y/N was oblivious to his presence behind her, too focused on wiping down kitchen island. She had on her oversized black t-shirt that he loved seeing her in, she was in her element and Louis loved seeing her like this. Happy and carefree. 

I like to see the way you move for me baby! 

Louis watched her intently as she swayed her hips and dipped to the floor, his eyes focused on her bum the entire time. When she stood up to her full height, he snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. He felt her stiffen at first but quickly relaxed when she realized that it was her Lou. His scent that she loved so much, invaded all her senses. 

“What a way to be welcomed home, love.” He inhaled the scent of her shampoo and kissed the exposed skin of her neck, immediately raising goosebumps on her skin. Her cheeks flushed out of embarrassment. 

“You’re early.” Lou gently turned her around in his arms and wasted no times kissing those lips he’s missed all that time apart. Lou nipped at her lips a couple times before breaking apart to get some much-needed air.  

“It’s called a surprise love and from now on I’ll keep changing my flights home if it means I get to come home to your poor singing and tempting dancing.” Y/N rolled her eyes at his comment, he should be the last person talking. 

“You shouldn’t be talking Mr. Oohhh it’s whatcha do to meeeee.” Louis gasped at her impression of his dreadful X-Factor audition. 

“Ha ha ha, funny. You’re gonna regret that.” She couldn’t hold in her laugh as he hoisted her up on the countertop. She cupped his face and pulled him in for another kiss, this time more needy and sloppy. 

The pair were happy to be reunited after their time apart, neither one of them couldn’t wait to have each other to themselves. 

[frosttbitessam]

WAITIN BY THE PHONE

sam x fem! hunter reader

warnings: no particular warning! pure fluff! soft! sam, s1+s2 kinda vibe, use of y/n, basically sam acting like a begging dog all for you- but in a cute way!! use of y/n

Sam was never the type to act so desperate. The Winchester brothers were always deemed ‘unstoppable’ by the majority of the hunting community, their stories shared around like marshmallows at the campfire, and yet the moment you entered their lives, he was at a complete loss for you.

the three of you had met on a hunt, a vamp nest in the middle of the Midwest, probably Nebraska. you’d never been the type to welcome others along a hunt, but after bashing a demons head in and looking up only to find a puppy-dog eyed man and his brute of a brother, you gave up that whole ‘lone wolf’ idea. You were - a list aprehensivo at first, after so little communication between the three of you, the various questions, the holy water being thrown in your face (which pissed you off a little), you got along just fine.

After a successful hunt, the three of you went to the local dive bar, drinking away what cash you had left, draining it like a hummingbird to sweet water. You had (drunkenly) given Sam your number, slurring words, and warm smiles, eyes half lidded and pupils as wide as a cats when hunting a mouse, not thinking he would ever call, because hey- what drunk girl ends up getting a date after that kinda job right?

wrong.

fast forward to a few days later, the both of you on seperate paths, his brother and him in Philly, and you in New York, your phone rings. ‘No caller ID’ it reads, your skeptical, at first, but sooner or later you give in for the hell of it because you need a break from researching werewolves, and traveling all over New York of all places.

“hello?” you ask into the phone, one hand on your hip, contemplating if you should’ve even picked it up, after waiting a few moments- there’s a familiar voice, one you know all too well..

“hi… this is y/n right? we- um- did a case a few weeks ago?” it was sam, he normally wouldn’t be so awkward over the phone, but from his perspective at the bar that night, he thought it seemed pretty amazing that he got a pretty girls number- a hunter too nonetheless.

“yeah this is y/n - you’re sam right? where you working?” you shifted onto the motel rooms bed, sitting on the edge of it, tucking a hair behind your ear carelessly.

“well currently me and dean are in Philly- got a case of a witch apparently.” he replies, you could even imagine him now awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck, perching himself on the edge of a chair, listening in.

“a witch? really?” your voice rings out, curious, hell you didn’t think they’d be in the Midwest of all places, then again, witches do know how to hide well, so it’s not that surprising.

“yeah- she’s- an old one..” he remarked, sensing the sheepish tone and expression, you smiled softly.

“were you- waiting to see if I’d call?” you asked, a cocky yet soft smirk overcame your face, you wanted to roll your eyes but you had it out for him, so it wasn’t completely his fault.

“wh- no…” he disapproves, trying to change the subject, but the sound of your laughter from the other line fills his thoughts, his heart even gets a little faster after hearing it, biting at his lip, he suppressed a chuckle.

“you so were!” you chuckled, smiling at the fact that such a tall, brooding man like himself, was weak in the knees all for you.

“look can you help me with the witch please? Dean and I are totally stumped…” he responded, embarrassed that you’d found out he’d been waiting by the phone since that night at the bar for you to call him up for something. anything.

“whereabouts in Philly are you sam?” you ask, your laughter dying down, absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair around your finger, you had it bad, and you both knew it.

“mm fairmount..” he responded, after a few moments.

“I’ll be there in a few hours.. hang tight.” you reassure him, before hanging up the phone, and sighing contently. you never imagined in your wildest dreams you’d have a Hunter- nonetheless a man like him of all people, weak for you, and yet, here you both were.

you were his guiding light, and he was a follower.

reblogs + reposts appreciated!! mwah! ❄️

[plusvanity]

Some silly little HCS for my fics:

NPD x NPD

-you might think this is the worst combo imaginable and you're damn right, except that they actually make it work because Abbath is overt while Varg is (for the most of the time) covert

-they're practicing mirroring and enabling one another to do stupid and impulsive shit, so they only get worse

-cocky bastards, inflated sense of self, grandiosity and all that jazz that basically hides raging insecurities. One wants to live it up like Lemmy Kilmister while the other is dreaming of being a dictator

-the empty schizoid core dilemma: Abbath is a fucking alcoholic because he cannot stand his own emptiness on a sober and lucid mind. Varg is arguably better because he wants to remain sober and as sharp as possible because he knows that when he drinks a little whisky he's the bottom of Abbath's jokes

-the Dead Mother concept

-Varg inevitably becomes overt because his false ego grows like a tumor on Abbath and it makes things harder for both of them

-narcissistic rage and pity parties

-they never actually give one another narcissistic supply because Varg is too fucking proud to admit he likes taking it up the ass while Abbath doesn't know how to talk with mean girls (especially those who piss while standing, have scars on their faces and like setting shit on fire)

-pyromaniacs, thought it was worth mentioning

-friends with benefits is just an excuse for being deprived together

-Abbath actually makes the fatal mistake to fall in love with Varg and he's massively disappointed when he sees Varg growing a beard instead of tits but he's sad and lonely anyway so he'll take whatever he gets. He's no high maintenance

-Varg is an asshole and breaks Abbath's heart as if it wasn't enough that Abbath breaks his liver every night in Apollon

-neither one is optimistic about the future and that's for a good reason

NPD x ASP

-you would assume that this isn't healthy because Varg can do the automatic bitch move of 'swallowing' Pelle's personality whole but he doesn't. He behaves exemplarily because he's desperate to find someone to love him despite being a sore loser

-the shared fantasy: they both live like elves in Tolkien's little fairytale (although Pelle lives like a strigoi in Transylvania) because real life just sucks and because they're both so deeply misunderstood

-both are very bad at communication, especially Pelle, but Varg is naturally quite observant and tries to find out what's bothering his lover. When Varg is silent, it is mostly because he's either entirely collapsed (narcissistic collapse) or his ego is injured. Pelle usually gives him space, but if Varg doesn't get better in a few days, he'll eventually try to talk with him, which is very tricky because Pelle doesn't speak Norwegian

-nerdy sleepovers braiding their hair together and watching Pelle Svanslös (the 1981 version)

-both are big introverts, but the difference between them is that Pelle is asocial while Varg is prosocial (he still needs narcissistic supply even if he prefers solitude instead of human interaction. It's quite complex and disappointing)

-they both read one another like open books because they have seen everything the other can offer (the good, the ugly and that weird thing in between)

-Pelle's emptiness and ego-death is different from Varg's narcissistic emptiness, but they find comfort in one another no matter what. The most powerful thing that Pelle told Varg was 'if you don't have any sense of self and you are just a mirror that can reflect anything, why not try to reflect me instead of the anger of your parents?' because in this way, Pelle gave Varg a chance to be a better, less hateful and less vindictive version of himself. Of course Varg is still struggling and probably always will

-they desperately need love and they're emotionally depended on one another. Once Pelle cracked Varg's defense mechanisms and vice-versa there was no turning back, they had to be the other's salvation

- trust issues rule over them. Very careful with people around them, they're both paranoid and highly protective with each other

-Varg doesn't look for narcissistic supply in Pelle because he doesn't want to take all of Pelle's energy. It's a boundary that he has for himself in order not to ruin their relationship, so he uses fanboys like Fenriz to tell him how great he is and all this nonsense

-they do love each other deeply. Even if they never experienced true love before, they know that their feelings are true and it's the only thing that makes life bearable

NPD x ASPD

-this is where all the scary shit begins

-every failed psychopath is a narcissist (this should tell you a lot about narcissistic rage because they can't be anything but angry losers)

-partners in crime (or rather Varg is Faust's little chewing toy)

-what happens when you take the ego and the super-ego of an individual? You're right. All you're left with is great, kinky sex. (Freud would've laughed. It's a good joke, actually)

-Faust can and will make Varg worse. It's a matter of time until he breaks Varg's core

-church burnings, vandalism, robbery, murder, gay sex, cannibalism and whatever else you would expect from two mentally deranged, ego-dystonic young and highly hormonal bastards

-Faust's chronic and incurable boredom is just what makes him get an interest in Vikernes in the first place. What they have is not a relationship to him, but an opportunity to have fun

-manipulation, gaslighting, abuse, etc. It's basically a Killing Stalking situation but Varg isn't going down without a fight or a good fuck

-drunk non-consensual coitus

-one of the dirtiest moves Faust does on Varg is shaving his head of after a nasty fight, so he strips him of all of his integrity and dignity to show him who's the boss (for a bit of context: it's Varg's fault that he tried to run off with their stolen money)

-they do a lot of crazy shit but get rid of the evidence. They firmly believe the police are dumb enough not to get them

-the empty schizoid core x2 again, although one of them is even worse

-Faust is able to get Vikernes through the full cycle of narcissistic emotional outbursts from total collapse to needy borderline to secondary sociopathy while Varg is only able to get Faust pissed

-buried past, non existent future, just live in the moment. Carpe diem, brothers ✌✌✌

-the lone wolf and the hungry tiger archetypes. The consumption is visceral and that's all I have to say

[womaninwinter]

Fics to go back to

In the spirit of fighting the "content consumption cycle" of fandom and also wishing a happy birthday to my loveliest girl @itripandfallalot, I want to recommend a few excellent fics of hers that really ought to be reread again and again:

1. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing

It's got Lockwood/George friendship. It's got competent Lockwood (but suffering. Oh boy is he suffering). It's got consistent, lovely, solid Locklyle flowing throughout as an undercurrent and occasionally welling up into a moment of unspeakably intense connection. It's Lockwood's POV throughout George's hospitalisation in TEG and you want to (re-)read it. You want to read it soooo bad.

2. Leave us planked before the graves

Anyone who knows me knows that Quill/Lockwood friendship is my jam, and going back to this fic is making me wonder if this is the one that started it all actually. It's quite a short oneshot, but it packs in a lot of emotional punch. It's a fic that will basically cup your face in its hands and whisper, "you're going to be okay." Short version: Lockwood visits Quill in the hospital after TEG. Neither of them really feel like they deserve to be there, but that doesn't matter even a little. Even shorter version: “Time, Quill. We’ve got so much time.” 

3. Lockwood Alone

Who among you can resist a properly devastating black winter fic? Even if you are one of those strange creatures who can, you will still not want to miss this. An absolutely grueling exploration of Lockwood's mindset in the months without Lucy, rare in that it portrays his grief without minimising his strength.

4. We Go Together on the 23rd of December

Really really cleverly done missing episode style fic that makes me mad about the cancellation all over again every time I read it. Swerves from hilarious Kipps/Lockwood banter to a deeply Locklyle first aid moment (and features some truly gorgeous art!). Delicious, effective, sad, striking. All the good things!

5. Lockwood & Co. The Other Side

I couldn't possibly do a rec list without mentioning this! An incredibly ambitious "book 6" project that picks up so many threads that Stroud laid down and weaves them together into something that feels both like a natural continuation and yet completely its own thing. The Locklyle tension is off the charts, the stakes are raised in a natural and believable way, and big questions are posed fearlessly: can ghosts make moral choices? Is there free will in death? Is there something more than the Other Side? I love this fic so much and I can't wait to see where it goes.