#i also firmly believe all of the hosts are at least a little in love with haruhi and this can be anything like endearing romantic cuz like

[puppyeared]

Ouhhhh friendship I love friendship……..

[tofixtheshadows]

Id love to hear ur interpretation and analysis on falin! She’s one of my favorite characters and and I was wondering what ur thoughts on her are

Man, I struggle to think of anything I could say about Falin that others have not already said. But she's one of my favorite things about Dungeon Meshi too.

So much of the story revolves around Falin, and she's not even there. Tumblr loves to talk about haunting the narrative, but Falin might be one of the best examples of it ever put to page. She's dead. She's alive. She's dead. She's alive. She's alive but she's missing, she's alive but she isn't herself. She's dead but she might wake. She's dead but she's frozen in ice. She's alive but she's sleepwalking. They chase her ghost and they chase her body all through the story.

I think what Kui does with her is fascinating. Not just as character with a personality we can analyze, but as an object in a narrative- that's why I say she's one of my favorite things about the story, because I also mean it in a mechanical sense. As a writer, Kui's really good at misdirection- that is, setting you up to believe or expect something about a character or a plot, and then turning that on its head. It's most apparent with Kabru, but it works really well with Falin too.

Because the precious little sister is a very well known character archetype, right? So is the gentle healer. The heart of the party. The white mage girl. The damsel in distress. The martyr.

And this isn't a Laura Palmer situation, where we find out that beneath her wholesome surface there's something dark and troubled. No, Falin truly is a kind and gentle person. That isn't where the misdirection leads (and that, too, I think, is another misdirection- it's not "Plot twist, she isn't as nice as you thought!", which would almost be too easy).

The misdirection here is more about structure than about character (but also, yeah- a little about character).

What I mean is, with these archetypes firmly in mind, along with a whole other host of fantasy genre expectations, I think anyone who goes into Dungeon Meshi un-spoiled probably expects Falin's rescue to be an endgame event; at least on a subconscious level, where you're not really thinking about it but in the back of your head you're already stretching out the story to place Falin firmly in the distance. Fire breathing dragon at the bottom of the dungeon is perfect final boss material, right? Slay the dragon. Rescue the princess.

And Falin is the perfect prize in the traditional old school fantasy that the concept of the titular dungeon is a send-up to. Blonde (white), soft-spoken, sweet-natured, beloved by everyone. An angelic figure.

Maybe that's why Ryoko Kui gave her white wings.

It is sort of jarring when chapter 23 rolls around and it's already time to fight the red dragon. And it takes a few chapters, but they succeed. And then Falin's impossible resurrection succeeds. But by then you guess that this is not going to be the story you expected it to be.

I want to point out that Falin spends a lot of time getting, well, babied, post-resurrection. Marcille washes her in the bath, despite Falin stating that she's capable of washing herself. Marcille schools her about her mana use despite Falin demonstrating that she is not hurting for mana, and brushes aside Falin's explanations. Both Marcille and Laios refuse to actually tell her what happened. Laios scruffs up her hair like she's a little kid and scolds her for something she can't remember doing. Marcille explicitly calls her a little kid when Falin tries to talk about how much she's grown.

Of course I'm not saying that Laios was wrong to act like a big brother, or that Marcille shouldn't be worried about taking care of her shell-shocked friend in the bath. But the framing of it clearly shows a Falin who is struggling to be heard.

If you'd like to address the big gay elephant in the room while we're here, I want to state for the record that- whether you read her as gay or not -I think Marcille is completely oblivious during this. Because Falin is her little friend from school. Her best friend, yes, but also the young tallman student she, in her infinite elven wisdom, had to mentor and look after. Marcille has not yet accepted that Falin is an adult now, nor has she accepted that she, herself, is only barely past teenagerhood developmentally and is not nearly as mature as she believes. Of course she'd scrub Falin in the bath and fuss over her.

Falin, meanwhile, seems more than aware of her own adult body and the inappropriate way Marcille is treating it.

The mana-sharing scene is, I think, Falin trying to get a little of her own back. How do you like it, Marcille?

And she tries again in bed.

Maybe she's wondering if their relationship will change now that they're grown ups. If Marcille prefers her as a little girl, or at least as a woman who lets herself be guided like one; if Marcille will react badly if Falin keeps trying to assert herself. She also might be subtly trying to signal to Marcille that bed sharing, like bathing, carries a different weight to it when you do it as adults rather than as children.

With all this in mind, the decision to turn Falin from the precious prize they rescued into to the vicious dragon they have to slay, hits a lot harder.

Falin with a powerful, monstrous, destructive body. Falin, who couldn't even stand to cause people pain from using healing spells, slaughtering half a dozen people in brutal ways. And that's not her, she's being mind-controlled, but as an object in the story she has completely flipped. From damsel to threat.

And I love that she carries a little bit of that with her when she's resurrected again.

Because she's no longer the girl who's going to let herself be stifled by her brother's and her best friend's co-dependency, no matter how much she loves them. She's different now: stronger, eyes open, forging her own path instead of following in their wake. Falin is still going to come back to them again, but this time it won't be because they chased her. It'll be because they let her go.

[legobiwan]

[sliding you a 20] do you have any thoughts on super dimentio

hoooo hooo ho ho ho ho ho ho

Yes. Many, many thoughts. Uhhhh, this got a little long. It's been a hot minute since I've been able to wax ineloquent about this topic (one of my favorite topics). It's also 3AM and I have unbelievable insomnia right now, so caveat lector and all that jazz. I'm not exactly sure what I'm writing here, but it's a lot of writing ahhahahaha.

I think it's very interesting that Count Bleck was not a vessel for the Chaos Heart, nor was Dimentio (at least initially). Bleck commanded the Heart's power and was protected by said power due to his knowledge of the Prognosticus, but the only person who could actually be a vessel for the heart was Luigi.

And why our man in green? I have a theory about the Prognosticus and its prophecies, that they were less specific than the book's wielders would have thought. After all, prophecy requires belief and thus simple statements are woven into paths of self-inflicted destiny. I don't think Luigi was the only being who could have hosted the heart, but he was, as it were, the right man for the job in the right place at the right time.

Now, let's remember that Luigi was turned into his monster form before Dimentio merged with him and Chaos Heart. Dimentio didn't have to do that. He absolutely could have pulled a Bleck and just puppeteered monster!Luigi around while enjoying the benefits of the Chaos Heart's protective shield. But he chose to merge with the Heart and with Luigi. To gain more power? Or just for the lulz? I'm tempted to say that Dimentio only thought this through partway, that his "spicy concoction" was a bit of improv that would reap eventual benefits that he might not have realized at the time.

And what would those benefits be? Well, let's think about this. The Chaos Heart is essentially an immortal force that can't be destroyed, only delayed. Now that Luigi and Dimentio merged with heart, this means all those atoms went into the metaphysical blender and now there's a bit of the Chaos Heart in Luigi and Dimentio (and a bit of Dimentio in Luigi and vice-verse), all of which has fascinating implications.

Because, if you have even a part of an immortal force that's now part of you - what does that do to your own mortality? I'm pretty convinced the only reason Luigi isn't dead at the end of SPM is the Chaos Heart. (And Dimentio might be in the Underwhere, but if Luigi survived, then Dimentio isn't 100% done, either). And this begs the question, then - can Luigi die? Will he age naturally after this whole event? I have...some definite opinions on this that I don't want to reveal quite yet (I will get back to writing once this stupidly busy semester is finally over), but I do think it's fitting that the man who deals with the undead on the regular might just have a little bit of paranormal going on himself.

And that doesn't even touch the idea that Luigi may have inherited a bit of Dimentio's magic (and madness, possibly). (Okay, so I do love the idea of Luigi just snapping his fingers one day and a box appearing out of nowhere. Just...the angst possibilities are so, so delicious. Yes, this might happen in one of my stories. :D

But getting back to Super Dimentio...I wonder how conscious Luigi was for that whole episode. My thought is that he was not so much in the driver's seat, not due to the Chaos Heart, but due to the Floro Sprout stripping away all of his free will. (Which means Luigi never actually made a decision, as written in the Prognosticus and is another reason I firmly believe the whole drama with the Chaos Heart and Dimentio is so not resolved at the end of SPM). You have to ask - if Dimentio had managed to get Luigi to join his side of his own free will (and I think he could have made that happen, if he had had more time to manipulate Luigi) - would Luigi have been able to control his monster form? Survey says (survey of one, that is) "yes."

And poor Mario throughout all of this. You have to figure that the moment he caught sight of his brother in that form, Luigi dead in his mind. And this is why, unlike Mr. L, I think Mario would have no guilt about destroying Super Dimentio. Luigi, at that point, was gone.

Except he wasn't, as we know. And now Mario has to come to terms with the fact that he twice tried to kill his little brother, because the only way to save the world was to destroy the one person who meant everything to him. And he would never do that. And didn't. Because Luigi was dead the moment that monster appeared. But Luigi wasn't dead. And this is what Mario shoves far, far down into the deepest recesses of his consciousness. He never wants to think about that battle again, he can't stop himself from seeing that terrible image every time he lays eyes on his brother once they're back in the Mushroom Kingdom.

And Luigi? He knows something is off. Mario is acting weird. Luigi himself feels weird and he can't quite place what the issue is, what that itch in the back of his brain is trying to tell him. Why he tends to tilt his head at any question, why his laugh has gained a sharpened edge, why that little voice that always told him to be careful, you could get hurt is quieter than it has been in years.

The day he greets Mario with a lilting "Ciao," a word foreign on his tongue no matter what his last name might suggest otherwise - that's the day it clicks.

That's the night he finds his brother passed out on the couch, two empty bottles of Mushroom wine toppled on their sides.

That's the night Luigi packs his bag and walks out the front door in search of answers.

[telomeke]

MY SCHOOL PRESIDENT – REPRESENTATION MATTERS

Maybe it's just my own wishful thinking, and maybe it's too early to tell for sure (though I don't think so), but remembering what Producer Aof, Director Au and the rest of the team did with Bad Buddy – it looks like the MSP team is giving a positive shout-out to the spectrum, even while anchoring the series firmly within the BL genre.

We have–

TinnGun – gay

SoundWin – gay, though Win may be bi/pan

TiwPor – likely gay

YoNook – straight

And Ep.7 suggests Pat may be straight/bi/pan but he comes across as more ace or arrow (to me at least).

And FINALLY the lesbians get a mention! 😍

(above) Ep.7 [3I4] 5.04 – musical-loving lesbians exist, even if they do break Pat's heart

I'm just hoping they give us a trans character somewhere too – oh WAIT a goshdang hot Bangkok minute, they already did! 😍

(above) Ep.5 [3I4] 7.13

The role of the producer at GMM Music in Ep.5 was played by actor and host Golf Kittipat Chalaragse, who openly identifies as a transgender woman.

It's important to note that she is treated by the boys with utmost respect in her one scene, and also that she broke disappointing news to Gun (not being shortlisted for signing despite his obvious talent) with kindness and empathy.

This quietly positive portrayal of a trans character in a position of influence is important for all the trans kids out there who might be watching this. (And yes, I'm aware that Golf's character in the show is not specifically identified as trans, but given her fame in Thailand I think most Thai viewers would see her as such.)

Bearing in mind that My School President is a lightly-crafted Thai-style High School Musical taking place in a QL universe, I believe that it is still carrying the sense of mission previous (more strident) Thai QL dramas have been sounding – The Eclipse, Not Me, and even Bad Buddy come to mind.

As with most other QL series, no one is treated as being less than anybody else based on gender or sexuality. So the boys take their Ep.6 music video – about the awkwardness of being in love while in the friendzone – happily into BL territory, free from any fear of societal judgement.

Previous dramas that did this (to the best of my memory) had an older target demographic, but this one is sending out a message of hope and normalization to a younger audience that it's OK if your sexuality or gender isn't society's perceived norm.

And to those who fit within the perceived norm as well, there is also the messaging that the trials and tribulations of your queer friends, family and compatriots have a lot in common with the dramas of your cishet lives too – so maybe it's time to stop othering anybody for being a little bit (or even a lot) different. (This is ultimately the message behind the switch from straight couples to BL ones in the Ep.6 music video, and also the BL switch in Bad Buddy's Kwan-Riam musical.)

It's not the first time a BL has been sending out messages geared to bolster queer self-esteem and normalization, but it's the first high school one in recent memory that seems to be radiating positivity all around, and hopefully its message will land with the younger set.

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.10 [2/4] 12.20 – Pran's t-shirt wasn't ahead of its time, but its message still applies a year later

Heartstopper may already have done this, and its finished product is perhaps a bit more realistically grounded and polished, but that show was restricted to a smaller, paying and arguably older audience on Netflix.

I cannot begin to emphasize how important it is that My School President and its messages of positive self-worth are beamed free-of-charge to LGBTQ+ teens all over the world, including places where it might not even be safe to be openly LGBTQ+.

My School President may be going all out to entertain (and it does), but beneath the froth and fluff it's still doing something. With the team behind it I wouldn't have expected anything less. And I'm so glad they're at it still. 💖 👍

[themissingnumbers]

Hey, Guys! It’s been awhile and my brain won’t shut up, so you know what that means—It’s Theory Time!

Ok, hear me out, y’all. I’m about to ramble on about this, and I’m either going to be making a lot of sense, or sound like a complete madman. Try to follow along, because I write things down in the order they appear in my brain, so it’s probably going to be a little sporadic. Please enjoy my yap session.

Ahem- Todays Topic: Red and MissingNo. (This is sort of building off of my last theory about them, so just keep that in mind.)

I want you all to know that if this actually happens, I called it- But, this entire theory came from this idea. And that idea is both very simple, and very complex:

My Idea is that MissingNo has already done to Red what Red will (inevitably) do to us.

And what is that, my fellow theorists? Use us.

Yes—I firmly believe that Red will try to use us should we ever prove ourselves to be trustworthy. After all, he’s already used/manipulated Professor Ace Maple. So, why wouldn’t he also try his hand at manipulating the Players? What reason would he have to not try and use us?

Now, you’re probably all thinking: “Wow, Red’s a crazy evil scheming little bastard-“ BUT NO! Hear me out- Red is not the villain here. No, Red is not completely innocent in all this; and Yes, Red is mentally unstable—how could he not be after spending upwards of 28 years alone in the broken remnants of his home—but Red is not the bad guy. MissingNo is. Ketsuban is the scheming bastard.

Are you still here? Good! Lock in right about now, because I’m about to get more rambly than a raccoon. Things might seem a little wack here, but just remember—these are my thoughts. Nothing here is concrete.

Alright! Hear me out y’all- Let’s talk about MissingNo, or at least, what I think about MissingNo. My initial observation about the Glitch was that MissingNo was a parasite, but now, I’m starting to think that Red and MissingNo have a more “symbiotic” relationship.

What I’m thinking here, is that MissingNo has invested in a long-term plan by latching onto Red. Think about this: MissingNo can’t get out of the distortion on its own. It needs help to reach the new world, to be summoned or pulled out by other means. If Leaf and Red met in Glitch City all those years ago, MissingNo must have seen that escape is not impossible them. After all, Leaf got out. So perhaps it’s taking a chance by latching onto the only other Player Character in hopes that, he too, would escape—and take it with him.

Think about this, too. Let’s take a moment to look at Red. Red is super skinny and malnourished, so he’s probably physically weak. He’s isolated and alone, which likely makes him mentally weak. And (while this is just an observation on my part, mostly taken from context clues and other pieces of art) Red can’t die. He’s weak, mentally beaten down, and cannot die. That would make Red THE perfect host for MissingNo—especially if MissingNo can play its cards right by manipulating him.

I believe that MissingNo has been plotting on Red’s downfall since day one. I believe that MissingNo has latched onto Red and allowed him to believe that he’s the one in control—when it’s really the Glitch that’s been pulling the strings.

Red has his own goal when it comes to escaping Glitch City—and that’s to go back home. He wants to go back to his family, his friends, his loved ones. But MissingNo doesn’t care about that. MissingNo doesn’t care about what Red wants. MissingNo only cares about what MissingNo wants. And what MissingNo wants—is out.

Red’s so mentally broken that he probably can’t see what’s going to happen. And if he can, he’s probably too desperate to care. Maybe he thinks he can handle it somehow, but I don’t know how he could.

We are Red’s ticket to freedom, just as Red is MissingNo’s way out. I think that Red, upon escaping, will backstab us, betraying us no matter how many promises we make with him—only to then turn around and be backstabbed by MissingNo, who will abandon him, leave him weak and alone, forced to watch as he corrupts and destroys the world Red wanted to desperately to be a part of again.

In short, freeing Red is not the problem. Red is fine. It’s MissingNo that makes it an issue. MissingNo is Red’s plus one, and it doesn’t look like it has any intention of letting him go until he’s outlived his usefulness. Trust and believe that I want Red to be free. I want to give Red his life back. But if MissingNo gets out—it’s GAME OVER for EVERYONE. Red included.

If MissingNo is allowed to go free, then the world of Missing Numbers and its characters are doomed. Fire would be doomed, Leaf would be doomed, Blue would be doomed, all of the other characters that we haven’t even met yet would be doomed. All of it. Red would be able to do nothing but watch as his only other place to belong is turned into a duplicate of Glitch City, as the people he knew and loved were reduced to nothing but a mess of glitches, forced to listen to broken sound bytes of his family’s dying screams on repeat forever as he gets put right back where he started—but with no hope of returning home and left with a crushing feeling of guilt, knowing that everything he cares about is gone and it’s all his fault.

But think about if Arceus saw all of this happening and decided to reset the whole world. Who’s to say he wouldn’t just get rid of Red for real this time? Everything that would have proven his existence to other characters would have been destroyed by MissingNo, so if Red goes and the world is reset, there would be nothing to say that he ever existed. Nobody would remember him, and Missing Numbers would be as close to modern-day canon Kanto as possible. It would just be FireRed, Leaf, and Blue. Just like it was supposed to be.

Hoo boy- Okay. I… think that’s it? Probably. If not and I left some gaps In my sleepy, 3 am brain ramblings, I’m sure y’all can fill in the gaps. Again, this is just my thoughts and ideas. It’s a theory. You don’t have to like it, or you could just take bits and pieces from this—it’s your choice. I’m just rambling about what I think.

Last minute ramblings about things before the end:

Hey look guys, it’s a theory that wasn’t about Fire for once-

Okay, on a serious note—can we NOT push the envelope with Leaf? Seriously. Like, pushing her for answers is like making an attempt on her life. We gotta play the game. We gotta be in it for the long con. Everything that we need to know has to come out with time—either from her or from other sources. She knows that we know. And she knows that we know that she knows. We’re aware. So let’s just chose to ignore it for now and try to be friends with her. After all, lying about what we are to each other just makes things easier for us both, right?

OKAY! That’s actually it this time. If there was anything else, I’ve since forgotten it because I’ve been writing this for a couple hours on and off. That’s all my ramblings for now. Sorry that got so long. Have a good day, y’all!

.

[cynicalmusings]

vanilla bean ౨ৎ for xiao?? and maybe slip in a jing yuan bc of the hmc au — @milkstore

vanilla bean ౨ৎ what does a day off with your lover look like? 

(i’m going to interpret this as a modern au, because i firmly believe xiao as he is in canon teyvat would not fall in love with a human, much less myself.) days off are pretty chill, i’d say. we meet up to go out for a morning walk, whether that be in the city or a park nearby, have lunch out or go to a cafe for breakfast depending on the time, and once we get back, spend some time together doing some Musical Stuff, such as practicing together, playing some songs, listening to some music, etc. maybe we’ve booked tickets for a concert that day and go to see that, possibly with a couple of other friends like yunjin, ganyu or xianyun. get boba afterwards (and possibly dinner, depending on whether we’ve already eaten out earlier), and go our separate ways. 

in jing yuan’s case, it’s… also chill. jing yuan sleeps in while i make some breakfast (straying more towards brunch, considering the time he wakes up, if not lunch itself), and after we’ve eaten, we walk through the streets with mimi and chat a little before jing yuan finds a warm spot (either inside or outside the house) and soaks in the sun for a good hour at least. he dozes off at that point, and i either join him in napping or just read/occupy myself otherwise until he wakes up. after that is mimi grooming time back at home, and after that jing yuan crushes me at starchess before we cook dinner together. overall, it’s a very domestic and slow-paced day, which is a breather jing yuan certainly needs in the context of his demanding job. 

because you mentioned the hmc au, i’m going to answer again but now in the context of sophie!reader after the timeline of the fic (i also think the character dynamic makes it more fun, to be honest). this won’t make 100% complete sense to those who haven’t beta read it, which is admittedly most people, but it’s fiiine.   the reader allows jing yuan to wake up slightly later than usual after they’ve already made breakfast for everyone, and they have a family meal in the main room, during which fu xuan and yanqing squabble a lot (while jing yuan secretly goads the two on for the sake of his own amusement—although he makes sure it doesn’t escalate into something serious—and the reader scolds him for it). there’s a piece of meat put out for mimi, and they have also reluctantly given the sparrows a little platter of various seeds. fu xuan just eats sugar cubes.  following that, the reader and yanqing clean the dirty dishes before jing yuan takes yanqing to stargazer navalia to frolic around the markets and look at some swords. the reader goes to fyxestroll garden for a (fyxe)stroll (haha) and to idly pick some tea leaves for the next few days of business because they literally do not know what it means to take time off. mimi probably comes with them for the sake of it.  everyone is back on the ship by around late afternoon, and jing yuan insists on playing some board games with everyone—probably a set of monopoly or something which he brought over from china. yanqing groans, because he thinks it’s boring (why play board games when you could be sparring?), but isn’t about to disobey. fu xuan scoffs at the triviality of this ‘rectangular human entertainment’, as she calls it, but ends up being by far the most invested and laughing whenever she charges someone for landing on her properties. the reader and mimi are a team, the latter who is just chilling while the reader explains to yanqing on why he cannot, in fact, stab fu xuan’s figurine so she loses all her properties.  now, jing yuan has invited over the reader’s family for dinner and didn’t tell them about it because he didn’t want to stress them out, but when they find out it has the opposite effect and they go into hosting overdrive, cleaning every inch of the house they can and hastily trying to come up with a menu. jing yuan calms them down and assures them they don’t have to prepare any food—he’s got that sorted (he did anticipate their overreaction, so he’s ordered takeout and is having it delivered to his address in china). suffice to say yanqing is very confused when he opens the door 中国-carving down and sees a stranger holding odd, thin, white bags out and asking for jingyuan). anyway, dinner is eaten, the reader still insists on doing all the clean-up (thankfully yukong and qingni come to the rescue and help them with the workload), and everyone chats amongst themselves for a while until it’s late into the evening and the reader’s family leave, with yukong promising to invite the ship’s crew over to her place for a meal next time. the crew ends up watching a film (yes, the ship now has a TV), and wouldn’t you guess it, it’s the howl’s moving castle ghibli film! the reader, yanqing and fu xuan are left to wonder at some of the similarities to their own lives presented in the story while jing yuan smugly watches from the sidelines. (they get confused about the bird part, though—although ironically, now that i think about it, the whole mimi-jing yuan thing does kind of reflect film!howl’s birdiness despite this being an au of the book… huh.) once it’s finished, the reader tells yanqing to go to bed, who initially insists he isn’t tired but eventually relents, and fu xuan falls asleep shortly afterwards (do heliobi even sleep? they do now, in any case). jing yuan and the reader do the final bit of cleaning up before also retiring to bed. 

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

**Cultivating Love**58**

**The problem with divine peaches after having your divine peach plundered and now your fiancé wants to go on a trip to his home clan** prt 3**

A second physicians visit and only echoed what Lance had been by the palace physician and firmly supported his belief that medicine within the cultivation realm needed an overhaul. Nausea, lack of appetite, stomach cramping, and increased sensitivities were common symptoms of a number of things. Not that he was with child. Keith had laughed so hard that Lange had smacked him for it. Such a ridiculous notion would have spread through the whole clan quickly if they had not had privacy. A small house hidden behind thick camellia shrubs, whose delicate scent soothed his agitation. He did not understand the Black Wolf Clan. Not in the slightest. Whispers followed his little family around, many a wife eyeing Keith as a suitable mate for their daughter, whilst giving him the cold shoulder.

Nipping at his bare shoulder, Keith was insatiable. Having done it enough that he was pestered, not flattered, by Keith’s attentions. Each time they’d met someone knew Keith had made sure to introduce him as his “fiancé Lance”, though with how often they’d done it, Lance was sure that people didn’t need a disclaimer when he was so soaked in Keith’s scent. His mate failing at reading the mood as Lance sipped his tea and mentally rewrote how he intended to write up the clan physician over his wrong prognosis

“No more. Behave yourself or I will have to be cross”

“I cannot keep my hands off of you… You do not need to be so mad”

“I do when your village lacks basic health services. Were you listening to his words? I wanted to hit him. You don’t need to do anything to encourage him either”

“Maybe I like it when you’re cranky with me?”

Keith said it as if it were a good thing. Lance had thought his temper would return to normal after expelling all the demonic energy from his body. Instead he was still short tempered, easily annoyed, and cranky at himself for it. He felt completely out of place, not a wolf and not an outsider either, but a little of both at the same time. He’d allowed Keith to pack for him and was now finding that Keith had packed all of his best clothes, leaving him further to stand out and almost yell that he was clueless. On top of the fact he’d insulted their hosts. Wolves were very proud and any offers of help were a deep insult. He didn’t know how not to offer his help. Not when the clan seemed to be doing well and he wanted to show his gratitude in some way for the use of the little house when he couldn’t offer actual assistance.

Sighing heavily, Lance threw his head back to smack Keith in the nose, not hard enough to make it bleed yet hard enough to stop him nosing his neck

“Don’t. I mean, I don’t want to be cranky at you so do not tempt me. If I’m acting out it could mean that I am not as clean of corruption as I believe myself to be. Though right now, little Keith is to blame. What kind of a wolf attacks a man once he’s done cleaning himself up?”

Determined to continue his clingness, Lance gave up on Keith giving him space as his mate slipped his arms around him

“I’m sorry. I know you’re ill, but you’re also incredibly attractive when you walk around half dressed”

“Oh, so otherwise I’m not?”

“No! I mean, you are. I’ll try contain myself more”

“That’d be appreciated. I still haven’t gotten the feel of the tribe and I doubt Kang will be happy that I was unavailable due to illness”

“Who cares about him?”

“Me. At least until he agrees to the proposal laid forth. Compared to how things were, I’m missing the demon realm. Not the fighting for my life thing, but the lack of paperwork. I would murder for an actually relaxing holiday with you and little Shiro”

“We could ignore the wishes of the other masters?”

Lance chuckled at the thought before thinking of the paperwork and wrinkling his nose. He was being too impatient with Keith. Not ever touch meant sex, even if Keith was acting in a manner he would call sexual, his poor wolf was probably projecting his past fears onto Lance the only way he knew how

“They’ll only keep adding to it. I’m sorry for being in a mood. I know you’re all over the place returning here, and I know the masters shouldn’t have added work, even if we had our own reasons to accept. I want to be accepted here, as your mate and as a fox. To be honest, I am struggling. I think that’s part of it all. I’m overdressed, anxious, ill and cranky… and you come along solving all my troubles with kisses, but what do I do for you?”

“You’re here with me”

“Shiro could have been here with you too. Two years a captive, they’re all thinking it, and that my freedom came at the cost of him”

Lance had been too honest. Wishing he could return the words to his mouth as soon as they’d slipped out. Despite being comfortably sat in the edge of the veranda, Keith hefted him back into his lap and buried his face against Lance’s shoulder. Lance proud to have not spilt his tea, which would only have made it all more awkward and added to his embarrassment

“I’m sorry I’m not him either… yet I am glad you’re here. I’m sorry that you worry about what they think, you worry so much about me and all I was thinking about was showing you off”

“No, I shouldn’t have said what I said. I mean, I miss him… I’ve been ill, yet if he were here, he would haven’t been. I don’t want to do anything that embarrasses you”

“You don’t embarrass me. Embarrassing was the first time you kissed Shiro, not getting a little sick while we were walking”

Lance closed his eyes. Keith was terrible at picking the right words to comfort him. Especially at the memory of that kiss

“You aren’t supposed to still remember that”

“How could I forget? You charged off on the battlefield trying to get yourself killed so you would not have to face Shiro again”

“What do you expect? You were there. I kissed him and zapped him at the same time. I made his fringe stand on end. I’m not sure who was more shocked”

“Shiro. His hair said as much. It’s a cute memory”

“It’s cute if you don’t go into the details. Besides, he was exhausted and worried for you and then suddenly I was kissing him”

“And the second you left I had to stop him charging right after you to ask you out”

Lance opened his eyes. He’d heard the story enough times he could relay it from the three perspectives

“If you hadn’t gone and got caught up in your own flames, we wouldn’t have been so worried. You singed your own hair. I thought for sure you’d be badly burned”

“And I thought for sure that you wouldn’t wish for two wolves as mates. Shiro worried for you so much”

“And you. He picked two hard mates with frightful powers. I thought him the most beautiful graceful master to have ever existed. We were all so jealous of how pretty he was and that everyone else had Iverson”

“And what did you think after you kissed him?”

“That I couldn’t believe I’d made such a mistake. You and Shiro were so beautiful and I felt so foolish worrying… and I was so sure that Shiro would hate me. He pretended not to know me because I treated you so poorly in the past. I don’t blame him. I was horrible”

Reaching up, Keith took the tea cup from Lance’s hand, setting it next to them both, before taking Lance’s hand in his

“Not on that battlefield you weren’t. Nor the one before it, or the one before that, and so on. I was mad at you for joining the Emperor’s army, sure that you had done it to continue pestering me. Then I saw how much you cared. How much you put into each fight. I was so confused that Shiro laughed and told me I had feelings for you. We only took a dozen battles to be on the same page and a dozen more to share our first kiss. It was because of you that I confessed to Shiro I felt confused because I felt like that with him and you. Then you kissed him and it clicked that maybe we could be together as a trio. He was so conflicted too”

“I think Shiro was conflicted to the very end”

Keith interlaced their fingers, bringing Lance’s hand up to kiss the back of it

“Why do you say that? He did make his choice”

“He did and he regretted it. That night never healed for any of us. He was afraid and ashamed of his own failings, and then everything started changing so he dug his heals in to stop it and it all fell apart. I thought to myself at least a hundred times that I would not love him again. Even his sincere apology and making love to him… I love and hate him and I miss him. By heavens I miss him. I miss him. I miss talking to him. When he would lay with his head in my lap and ask my day. Or he would get excited when I learned something and shared it. We went from master and student to lovers to master and student over and over. My memories started coming back too. And at the palace it’s so comforting but it’s also not. Why did he not love me right?”

As Lance started crying, Keith turned him, folding him in his lap so his legs were over Keith’s and his side to Keith’s chest. The hand he’d interlaced their fingers with now kept his hand to his stomach while Keith’s other hand cupped his cheek as Keith started rocking him, nuzzling and kissing Lance’s hair line

“I miss him too. He was so damn proud. Too proud. I can’t forgive him much either and I do at the same time. I hate all the unsaid and I swear sometimes I will hear him call my name. I want the anger to leave. I want to go back to before Adam was reborn and you were injured, yet I knew before I left that wanted to marry you, and I swear upon the heavens that my four months apart were spent making sure that my heart and my head aligned. You were special to him. He would talk on and on about you when we would leave. Sometimes I was indeed very jealous”

“See. It is my fault. Had I never been wounded…”

Keith shushed him gently and cut him off

“No. You are brave. You always do the right thing in your heart and you tolerated things for so long. I was too complacent. Me. I took you waiting at home for our return for granted. And I drugged Shiro so I might not have to see him until I saw you. I robbed you of those months we could have had to fix things”

“But I had never left…”

“Nothing would have changed. You were so very ill. I’m trying not to let that cloud my worry now but I am. You’re a brave little thing”

Lance snorted wetly. Shiro loved to tell him he was. He really could have used a hug from Shiro… and less talk about the embarrassment of his first kiss with Shiro out of sheer relief that Shiro and Keith were both okay. They’d all kept up such a facade, expected by them, at the palace yet he’d gotten to know them for real away from it and he’d fallen head over heels before his heart knew what was happening. Shiro had… Shiro had been so dazzling that Lance had kissed him, then too dazzling to talk to until Shiro tracked him down to return the kiss

“I’m a crying mess. No general sobs like a baby”

“No general still has a kind heart in the face of all we see”

“You’re being too kind. I really am sick of myself being up and down”

“You’ll figure it out. Are you still craving divine peaches?”

Sniffling valiantly, Lance nodded

“Yes. Though I know we have none left”

“No, but if we leave here and head for the royal palace we can get our hands on some”

“We can’t do that. You haven’t shown me your childhood home and I need to pay my respects to your father”

“We can do that today and leave this night”

“But the masters…”

“Can’t tell us off if they cannot find us”

“And Kang? Our plans for the clan?”

“Mean nothing if my mate is worrying himself because of me. I think you should listen to what your body is telling you. If it’s telling you to eat peaches, we’ll go get peaches”

“And if it’s telling me that I love you?”

“Then I’m afraid I’ll have to take you to bed and mark my beautiful fiancé until the whole village knows exactly what we do alone. You know, the demon king tournament will be approaching soon. What do you say we turn it into an extended holiday? Krolia would love to see you too”

Lance sighed, Keith was far too tempting with his sweet words

“We can’t. I’m not riding across the realm because I am ill. You won’t lead me astray, oh great fiancé of mine. We must stay and deal with Kang”

“Then I want a promise in return”

“What?”

“I get one wish once we are done with Kang. One wish to spend how I please without you telling me off. The old man makes me miserable and in return I won’t set him on fire. But only if you agree”

“You said you would behave as it was”

“Then consider this a reminder. If I’m a good cultivator and don’t lose my temper, you will grant me one wish, otherwise I do not know what I may do”

Lance knew Keith would wish to go to the royal palace for peaches. That’s who he was. Lance would need to remind of the terms of this wish when Keith came to making good on it

“You can have one wish. But that wish must be utterly selfish and no one expect for you may benefit from it”

“I can live with that”

“Then you have a deal. But that doesn’t get you out of showing me your childhood home”

“Oh, we’re going tonight. I’ve got a surprise for you and you can only see it at night”

*

Following Keith through the village at night, Lance worried for little Shiro. Their son bundled in a blanket to keep him warm in the cold night air. In the dead of the night Lance felt like a thief. As if they were doing something very wrong, yet with the promise of seeing Keith’s childhood home, he’d not raised protest with their excursion.

Towards the back of the village we’re sharp cliffs, a path barely wide enough for a horse the only indication something lay beyond. Keith keeping a slow pace for him, a ball of flame within his right palm to light the way, and his left hand hovering to help Lance keep his steps. Even a small fall would result in injury, he’d scraped his wrist carelessly in protection of little Shiro as it was, and the same damn illness that had plagued him sat low in his stomach as if he’d swallowed a fistful of nettles. He knew Keith had lived in isolation, yet he hadn’t thought isolation would be this… isolated.

Continuing through the narrow pass, Keith stopped as the sharp walls gave way to inky darkness

“Hold on a moment. I need to find it”

Biting his lip, Lance squatted down, making as if he was fussing over their little boy. Anything to shift the pain in his stomach. Turning the light away, Keith felt along the rock wall, needing a few very long moments before pulling something from a small crevice. Holding something over his flame, there was a small crackle and the scent of something burning, before Keith was turning back to him, smiling softly at the thing in his hand, then frowning at the look of him

“Lance?”

Drawing himself back up, Lance kept his face down and slightly turned away so that Keith couldn’t see his expression. The cramping would pass. It always did. And now Keith seemed excited

“I’m okay. What do you have there?”

“My father made this… it… the desert can be big and scary. So he made me this to lead me home”

Hiking little Shiro up, Lance looked over him to the pendant in Keith’s hand. He couldn’t see much in the dim light, only the soft green glow and shadows of the pendant

“What’s it doing here?”

“I left it here. When I left with Shiro the first time, I was sure he’d send me back. Everyone gave up so I left it here so I could get back home… Kang didn’t like me coming out here. Said I was insulting the good will of everyone else. No one knew what to do with me and…”

Keith was beginning to babble. Reaching out Lance placed his hand over the pendant. The magic there was weak, yet even with all this time, he could feel love lingering

“He loved you. You were a child and they failed you, not you them. I may be biased but I can tell a spell when I see one. He loved you very much. You should keep this treasure closer to you, because I feel he never wanted you to let it go”

Keith ducked his head, coming back up with a smile that made Lance feel blessed to see it

“Maybe this time I won’t leave it behind… You can’t really see it, but he carved a wolf’s head for me too… and there’s a K for Keith”

“He would have been so proud of you. I wish I could go in time and thank him for you. I wish that we could have spoken and that I could go back and hit my old self for all the wrongs I did”

“All those wrongs aren’t right, but I forgive you for those things in our past. They should stay there. And thank you, Lance. If you hadn’t given me another shot in the demon realm… well… it hasn’t been easy, but we made it eventually. It’s mating season for the desert rays so everyone stays away… I’m not saying this right, it’ll be easier to show you”

Keith hadn’t said it right, he’d made Lance’s brain hurt, yet it was alright with how cute Keith was acting in excitement

“You’d better not get us lost now you’ve found your treasure again”

“I won’t. Here, it’s a drop down to the next step, let me help you”

Making the mistake of letting his precious treasure too close to their son, Keith had to negotiate the return of the stone from little Shiro, now coated with the babe’s saliva. Lance had nearly lost his temper the moment little Shiro had put it in his mouth, instantly feeling ashamed he’d nearly yelled at the baby boy. Keith had laughed. Despite how precious the stone pendant was, his mate had laughed, then taken the stone back and reduced little Shiro to tears. Holding Keith’s arm, Lance had had to sing their baby back to sleep, not wanting little Shiro to cry too loudly when they were alone in an unknown environment.

With the levelness of the terrain, Lance would call, what Keith called a desert, a sand plain due to the lack of dunes. Silence sat between them with Lance unable to find the right words to prompt Keith to tell him more about his childhood. It was easy enough to imagine little Keith in the village stealing bread. He would have been such a handful, surely biting whoever would catch him, then kicking them in the shin before making a run for it. The children seemed to be treated well in the clan now, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t room for improvement.

Thinking too soon, they came to a steep slope. Keith extinguishing the ball of flame and bathing them in darkness just when Lance needed him not to. Stumbling, his mate plucked little Shiro from his arms before they could both fall

“I’ve got him. Take it slow, it’ll be worth it when you see it”

After all the walking they’d done, Lance sorely hoped so. He thought they were following the stone to Keith’s childhood home, not to slopes of doom

“Alright, but don’t blame me if I smack you when we got to the top”

“You won’t. We had to take a deviation, but I promise it’s worth it”

And it was. Reaching the top of the slope, before him was a swirling scene of browns and golds. When Keith had said desert rays, he’d thought they’d be small. Not massive creatures large enough to comfortably stand upon their backs. Rising and falling, they moved as if the air was water, swimming on unseen ripples

“They only get like this during mating season. Kang closes the pass to everyone, not that they come out here, and when he mentioned not to bother coming out I knew it must be the season. They’re big bastards, with a barb as big as you, but they don’t get angry if you don’t interrupt them. Pretty amazing isn’t it?”

Lance didn’t know rays like this still existed. They really were amazing

“I would expect something like this in the demon realm, not here. You never told me they were this big”

“I remembered them smaller”

“A bit like how you remembered the fish bigger?”

Keith groaned at him, Lance sliding his arm around him as he did

“I’m teasing, my love. Did you show this to Shiro when you two came?”

“No. He didn’t want to come out here at night…”

“He was probably smarter than we are. Shall we sit for a bit? They’re kind of magical to watch”

Keith huffed at him as if they didn’t have time to sit and rest

“I want to take you to the house”

Even if Keith didn’t need a break, Lance did. Sitting down, he kept his gaze on the scene below. The space must have been solely for breeding, and like birds they returned year after year. Something so pretty would have been lost forever if Zarkon had ever seen them

“Fool, if we’re going back down that slope, you can at least let me catch my breath. I think these rays are big enough to ride upon. You should have given me more warning”

“I’ve done that before. Ride them. It’s not a pleasant feeling”

Unable to tell if Keith was joking or not, Lance tugged on his robe. His mate finally sitting next to him

“I’ve been wracking my brain trying to ask you about your childhood on the walk out here and now I don’t know if you’re lying or not”

“I guess you’ll never know. I wanted you to see this. I think my father would bring me out to see them. Some of the wolves have had run ins with them before, and there used to be a trade network through here. The house isn’t too far from here. Shiro put a barrier over it, but I’m guessing it won’t be there anymore seeing he isn’t. It might not be much more than rubble by now”

“Or it could still stand. Either way, I’m honoured that you’d share this with me. This place is precious to you, even the clan. I know how poorly they treated you, yet I know how much you care. Tonight we’ll sleep there, then tomorrow we’ll go pay our respects to your father. I hope I make a good impression”

Keith leaned into him, kissing Lance’s shoulder before settling

“I’m sure you will. We have a lot to tell him… Little Shiro too”

“He’s bound to drool over everything. I’m sure he gets his drooling from you”

“I’ve never met a baby who drools as much”

“You’ve never met many babies. Should I take him back?”

“No. I find myself wanting to spend this moment with my family a little longer”

“Alright. Let the make the most of it. Who knows how many more moments we will have?”

Raising his head, Keith kissed Lance’s cheek

“A lifetime. And the next. The four of us will surely meet again”

There were three of them there. Did Keith mean he hoped for the reincarnation of his father? Lance questioning

“Four?”

“Or should I say five? That little one inside you. Shiro. Adam. You. Me. I think it would be a fine life to be together in the next life”

Groaning at the not so funny joke, there was no child within his belly

“Four, Keith. Four. And I see you’ve come round to introducing Shiro to Adam in this life”

“I know I would never convince you otherwise. Besides, I have to tease you as much as I can, my pregnant fiancé”

“Keep this up and I will take little Shiro and leave”

“Somehow I do not see that happened”

Keith was right. He wouldn’t up and leave with their son. Instead he cuddled into his mate, watching the show the desert rays were gifting them.

[flickerikis]

RADIO FM 222: LOVE! — profiles 01 wolf gang Grr 🐺

𖤐 — @ hsnglee : our little mister curious who just cannot mind his own business! 1/7 of enhypen and the main vocalist of the band ☆ takes philosophy and liberal arts classes alongside his music and performative arts ones for fun but then cries about how it's all too much and that college is a scam ( it is but no one agrees with his whining :p ) ... avid listener of the 222: love podcast and religiously agrees with everything even if it's all just blatantly wrong, almost cultish with how much he's into that podcast ( says it's his form of comfort?? once growled at hoon for interrupting his listening session 😟 talk about furries ) has no idea abt who y/n even was except that they do illegal stuff and got like 13 stds so when he finds out abt them being the podcast host he's quite... taken aback to say the least !

⏤͟͟͞͞ @ jayuncovered : oh my god he's so done with everything somebody save him 😞 2/7 of enhypen and vocalist / rapper of the band ( he also plays the guitar when he can! ) ✧ fashion major ( r we surprised? ) and takes music production / music technology classes ( sexy brain 😛 ) honestly just needs to be given a break from all the shit he has to deal with on the daily, someone take the large cup of black coffee from his hands god ... gave 0 ( zero! ) fucks about the podcast until the host played a song he'd recommended in the comments passing by, swears he fell in love after 😍

✿ ⊹ @ laylalover1234 : weirdo warning ⚠️ resident ‘where's my hug’ typa guy he's a goddamn loser i'm sorry jake 💔 3/7 of enhypen and vocalist of the band ( also the guitarist!!! but his voice so pretty it’s enough to make every1 love him ) ⊱ he tutors people sometimes for extra cash as a music major with calculus light physics minor ( told u he's a fuckin’ weirdo ) ... listens to the podcast from time to time and ALWAYS manages to convince the hosts to play a justin beiber song like how white can u be.

⛸ ꠴ @ hoondotcom : honestly... no one knows what's wrong with him but they're certain as hell he's a mental asylum escapee ( nurse! ) 4/7 of enhypen and he's the pretty guy with a pretty voice — also music major who hosts ice skating classes at this small rink near the uni ( gets a lot of cash tbh go hoon ) ... does not even know wtf a 222: love is and firmly believes it's a government propaganda bc why the fuck is heeseung turning into a furry the more he listens ?

ఇ 𓈀 ˇ @ sunrio : biggest fucking instigator but no one gets mad at him bc ... well look at him! ( sunoo my 4ever pretty boy ) 5/7 of enhypen and is the one who does the modelling and stuff for posters or what not for the band ( also considers himself the recordian? recorder? idk but no one takes it seriously bc who tf plays a recorder in a pop rock band??? ) ≡ in music history class and the photography club it's so cute :( ... has been a guest at the podcast numerous times bc he loves the atmosphere there and they always give him so many compliments, everyone jus simps for sunoo sm <3<3

⧉ ৶ ﾞ@ wonsecretlife : bestest boy EVER!!! everyone adores the lil' junior grade representative :( 6/7 of enhypen and is the leader !! ( really cute voice too, everyone supports this boy sm <3<3<3 ) ໑ music technology and history major and also part of the photography club along sunoo :] ... literally is co-host of the podcast and is always so cute w it I JUST LOVE HIM SMMSMMSM !!!!!!!!! only one along niki and their friend group who knows y/n hosts the podcast and he's always so supportive my lil baby

⩇⩇ ៹ @ rikicide : oh lord. well first of all he's literally in his first year of uni and the boy's already a whole damn menace! sumn needs to knock him out for eternity PLEASE 🙏🏽 7/7 of enhypen and the youngest ( no one treats him like it though ) ꒷꒦ cute baby in composition and music technology who also does a lil bit of performative and fine arts bc he's just that good yk ?? ... also sometimes features on the podcast and always makes it chaotic but those eps are literally everyone's favourites bc he's so amusing to listen to literally what goes in his head? ( also aware of y/n hosting and literally knows them since he was in diapers [not really that long ago LMFAO] )

synopsis after accidentally finding out that the college's famous radio podcast 222: love was hosted by you – the college's infamous rebel, heeseung makes it his mission to uncover the secrets you hide but it isn't quite easy when he realizes he's starting to become a little too fond of the new sides he's discovering.

rambles PLEASE IGNORE THE TYPO IK YALL KNOW WHICH ONE I WILL LITERALLY PRAY FOR YALLS FIRST BORN TO ACHEIVE WORLD PEACE 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽 i didnt notice it at first and now im too lazy to redo it so js pretend it says said ok ? ok! anyway ya here i hate making profiles sm im so sorry for the cringe wave on hoons its supposed to be a part of his character 😢 i cant wait to share my lil baby smau w u all fr if u reblog ill kiss u (unless u dont want me to then im sor i js need the interactions bless u all)

taglist

[beybeys-world]

Newbie

HELLO!!! If this makes it out of the void of my drafts this is my very first write so give ya hoe some love pretty please! This write is also in 3rd person pov and uses gender neutral pronouns. Constructive criticism is welcome! Please tell me how I did! And for those who made it this far I hope you enjoy part 1/? of my writing. Please give my writing some love for a part 2!

Warnings: Cursing, mention of drinking, pet names, fluff, gender neutral reader

Coming from California, Hawkins Indiana wasn't exactly the place he hoped to settle in, lucky for him he didn't have much of a choice. Hot shot Billy Hargrove had strolled his way into Hawkins high with an arrogant mindset. He knew how his charm worked on people and he could tell it was working with the girls gawking at him as he excited his Camaro. He knew he would have a hell of a morning claiming his new royalty as Hawkins's new king. 

Y/N L/N wasn't particularly gawking at the handsome gentlemen but more of peering due to curiosity. Unlike every other girl in this god forsaken parking lot, they weren't aroused whatsoever by him but intrigued. Y/N wasn't one to fall head over heels first sight and was just wanting to be an acquaintance to billy. After all they had connections with everyone all over Hawkins, being loud and extroverted came with the side of knowing the whole town. Sure he was handsome to them but they were just trying to have a good impression with him especially with him being a new kid. 

“Look at his ass in those jeans!” Tina squealed to which you replied with a gag.

 “EW Tina! Its flatter than a pan I have no idea what curves your seeing.” Y/n chuckled.

 Aside from knowing everyone at school, Tina is your best friend and the one girl you enjoyed company with the most, despite you both being far from similar.

 “mhm yeah right y/n, like you're not drooling over him too!” she teased nudging into y/n. 

Billy was charming and of course y/n was well aware of that but unlike Tina she wanted to get to know him aside from looking and commenting about his ass.

“Okay I have great news! So... my parents are going outta town for a couple days.. and a party must be announced!” Tina cheered handing me a pink flyer. 

“A Halloween party?” You read the flyer “I didn't mark you up for a costume party chic” I joked. 

“Well you better believe it y/n cause i want you there and i want you to spread the word!” Tina began, “I know your one for parties and it wouldn't be a riot without you and your social butterfly spark”. 

She was right, you were a party animal at the parties Tina hosted. A costume party was an open opportunity to show off your stunning outfits and socialize with everyone. You just weren't in the “vibe” to decide on going at the moment. Tina had suggested you go to the party but if you REALLY didn't want to go, to at least spread the word to at least one person. (a hot one, she included)You told Tina that you’d decide on it later but would do your best to spread word. The first period warning bell had rung signaling you to the first period.

                                                   time skip

Walking into class y/n found themselves to be accompanied by the famous Billy hargrove, sitting directly next to them on the seating chart. Not even him being there for 30 minutes, rumors were roaming Hawkins high, all about billy. Despite all the talk Y/N L/N weren't scared whatsoever, but more excited for a new face. Y/N exhaled “how bad could he be” they muttered.

“Hiya! Pleasure to meet ya, you're the new kid right?” you stuck your hand out with a grin. 

“Oh so you’ve heard of little ol me” he snarked with a cocky grin.

“Who hasn't at this point, new kids like you are a big deal in Hawkins. Its a small town after all” you replied, lacing your finger less gloved hand with his to shake.

“Im Billy nice to meet you lovely. Geez firm grip for a doll like you” Billy teased He was right, upon meeting everyone you shook their hand firmly with a grin hoping for a good first impression with whoever you were meeting.

“Pfff please, i’m barely even shaking you, billy boy.” they objected

He replied with a smile leaning back in his chair. “Billy boy, New kid” He thought to himself. Billy liked those nicknames especially hearing them from you.

 Continuing to talk during English class, they were sharing lots of laughs and shares of interests and an occasional “shh” by the teacher as well.Y/N didn't quite talk about themselves in conversation much fearing that they’d bore whoever they were speaking with. But Billy wanted to know just about everything about them.

“You know I like you a lot..” He looked at you as you stuffed your notebook into your bag. “we should get to know each other more, I wanna get to know you and some of your friends” He implied with a grin.

“Hmm well..you busy Friday?” you chimed.

“Wow, makin plans with me already? very bold of you sweetheart” Billy snickered with a shit eating grin.

“No jackass, a party. My friend Tina’s throwin a Halloween costume party. Free drinks too, just show up in a costume so you don’t look like a dunce” They teased.

“Well, are you goin?” Billy questioned.

“I guess I kinda do have to go now if you wanted to get to know me better” Y/N thought out loud.

“Guess you do sweetheart, so is that a date?” Billy smiled with his cocky ever so determined expression

“Slow your roll newbie” they picked up their bag heading towards the next class alongside Billy “It's not a date, it's an invite. Like a hangout” she answered

“Hmm okay, whatever you wanna call it doll. Sure I’ll come to your little “hangout”, i’ll meet you there and maybe I can get to know your pretty little self a bit better ”he flirted with a wink. Which was followed by Y/N shaking their head laughing at Billy’s remark.

“Well this ones, me” Y/N sighed pointing to the doorway of science class

“Hey hey hey, wait I never got your name Princess.” Billy asked

Once again they stuck out their hand to shake his “Stick around and maybe you’ll find out” they winked strolling to their class.

“See ya at the party new kid!” they concluded their conversation with a wave before walking into the class. “What a flirt” you muttered silently laughing to yourself. You couldn't wait to tell Tina about your “invite”. You smiled to yourself then reached in your bag for science notes.

About to light a cigarette Billy realized he was still clenching his hand after shaking y/n’s. He opened his hand to find a crumpled pink flyer with the party information on it that y/n sneakily had slipped while shaking his hand. Later that day he sat in his room rummaging through his closet hoping for something cool for the party. He was gonna be there and he was gonna see them and hopefully find out their name.

If you enjoyed my read please give it some love and follow for part 2!! If you’d like to be tagged in part 2 please comment below!!  My requests are open but please look at the guidelines before requesting! Thanks for reading luv ya! 

-Ahzy

[queenshelby]

ME AND THE DEVIL – PART TWO

Featuring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Words: 6,459

Warnings: Smut, Mention of Domestic Abuse and Racism

Tag List (Tommy Shelby):

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal   @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse  @captivatedbycillianmurphy  @fookingshelby  @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa  @littlewierdalien  @sad-huffle-nerd  @theflamecrystal   @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @themissthang  @0ghostwriter0  @stylescanbeatmyback  

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @margoo0 @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee  @daydreamingnymph  

 -------

The Charity

Usually, you didn’t accompany your husband to political events but, tonight, was different. It was a big night in Westminster.

One of the judges from the Queen’s Bench invited several members of parliament to a charity ball. The ball was hosted by the judge at his rather large mansion which he inherited from his father who was a well-known politician before he passed before the First World War.

The judge was a smart man but had recently fallen under the spell of your husband. He favoured national socialism after the stock market crash in the previous year and your husband’s ideals aligned with his.

It was of the upmost importance for your husband that you attend this function with him. It was all about appearances and, since the judge believed in the value of marriage, Oswald wanted to present himself as the perfect husband to his young wife.

Most importantly, the judge wanted to fund Oswald’s campaign with the view to gain power if your husband’s movement gained enough traction. Oswald wanted you to befriend the judge’s wife to ensure that the funding would be forthcoming.

The judge’s wife was a lady and rather wealthy herself. She was also involved in charitable organisations and you had her before, but only briefly.  

Despite some familiar faces, there were also people who attended the ball who, apparently, you hadn’t met before. Or have you?

Just after you entered the large mansion and were greeted by the host, your husband introduced you to his acquaintances, one of whom in particular caught your interest.

‘Y/N, may I introduce you to my acquaintance Mr Thomas Shelby, the deputy leader of the British Union of Fascists’ Oswald said, causing your heart to skip a beat. You knew from Ada since your last encounter that Tommy was a politician. But, you had no idea that he was a fascist and member of your husband’s party.

‘Mr Shelby, this is my wife, Y/N Mosley’ he added in which moment Tommy’s looked at you as if he had seen a ghost.

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs Mosley’ he said after clearing his throat. It was obvious to you that he had to quickly collected his thoughts.

‘Likewise, Mr Shelby’ you said as you shook his hand. You remembered his large and masculine hands. In fact, you remembered them very well. They were doing amazing and pleasurable things to you.

‘Would you like me to get your wife a drink while you arrange the meeting with Judge Kutchner. I could introduce her to my wife and they could talk about the upcoming charity event, eh?’ Tommy asked your husband as he had been inundated by several invitees of the host.

‘That is very thoughtful of you, Mr Shelby. I would appreciate it’ your husband said politely.

‘Alright then. Follow me, Mrs Mosley’ Tommy said as he took your hand like a gentleman and walked with you towards a group of women who included his wife Elizabeth Shelby and the judge’s wife Marianne.

‘Did you know that I was Oswald’s wife when you made an advance towards me?’ you asked curiously as he walked with you across the dancehall.

‘Of course not. Otherwise, I would not have touched you’ Tommy said with a serious face and somewhat flustered, causing you to giggle.

‘What’s so fucking funny, eh?’ he asked.

‘Nothing. It’s nothing’ you said, still giggling.

‘I don’t see the humour in this Y/N. What you are doing is dangerous. Your husband is a dangerous man. But I am sure you know this’ Tommy said firmly as he stopped near the champaign fountain before handing you a glass of champaign.

‘What I am doing is it dangerous? If I recall correctly, it was you who kissed me first’ you said.

‘Yes, which I did before I knew who you were married to. You could have fucking told me, eh’ Tommy said.

‘Well, if it’s any consolation to you, I didn’t know you were my husband’s acquaintance in business. In fact, I didn’t really take you to be a fascist when I met you. What is it that you are doing for the orphanage anyway? Wiping clean your conscience after supporting racism and cheating on your wife?’ you asked sharply as you quickly drank the entire glass of champaign.

Tommy grinned at you. He was carrying a sheepish smile across his face.

‘I don’t have a conscience Love. I do bad things. That’s just who I am. But, by listening to you, I take it that you do not support your husband’s cause Mrs Mosley?’ Tommy said as if he was asking a question.

‘Well, Mr Shelby, despite of you what you are telling me here, I don’t think that you do either’ you said firmly, but Tommy ignored your comment entirely as you finally approached the group of women he was intending to introduce you to.

‘I would prefer if our little indiscretion at the library could stay between us eh’ Tommy whispered.

‘Agreed’ you sighed quietly just before Tommy introduced you to his wife Lizzie.

You talked to Lizzie for a quite some time and you could tell that Lizzie and Tommy had problems of their own. Their marriage was a marriage for show just like yours and Oswald’s marriage. Lizzie hated to be at this event just as much as you did and you soon became to learn of her past from your husband, who felt it necessary to tell you. He also saw the need to tell you that, many years ago, he slept with Lizzie when she was still a prostitute and you became to wonder about Tommy’s motives involving himself in the fascist movement. How could he work with your husband after your husband acted the way he did, rubbing his past relations with Lizzie into Tommy’s face every chance he got.

But, perhaps Tommy didn’t care. After all, it was evident to you that Tommy had married Lizzie simply because he had to. Their child was born just after they were married and in a position like his, you could not have children with someone who you weren’t married to. It was the norm and common practice.

In some way, you were thankful that you weren’t able to conceive even following many attempts by your husband to get you pregnant. At least this way, you were hopeful that, once your husband’s party gained power, he would decide to leave you for another woman. Divorce was less frowned upon if you didn’t have children. After all, who could deny an important man like him to have children of his own if his wife was infertile.

With these thoughts running through your head, the remainder of the evening went somewhat uneventful and you and your husband left at around midnight.

After you went to bed, he arranged for a prostitute to come by the house. This wasn’t unusual and it didn’t bother you. In fact, you switched off to the sounds he made when sleeping with another woman in your house. Sometimes you felt as though he was doing it in order to hurt you since you weren’t a very attentive wife. But you didn’t care. In fact, that night, your thoughts were lying entirely with a different man. His acquaintance, Thomas Shelby, by whom you were intrigued by despite his association with the party.

Little did you know that, soon, you would meet him again in a familiar location.

The Library

It was a week after your last encounter with Tommy at the charity ball that you decided to continue your work at the orphanage library.

You’ve been stacking books on shelves all day until, at 4 o’clock in the afternoon, you saw a familiar face.

‘Mr Shelby, what a surprise’ you said as you finished packing up the last of the books and noticed Tommy walking towards you through the library hall.

‘Good Evening Mrs Mosely’ he said as he approached you.

‘Good Evening….What are you doing here?’ you asked politely.

‘I had a meeting in the area and thought I would stop by to see how the library is coming along’ Tommy said, keeping his distance from you this time around.

‘Oh, I see, your conscience is playing tricks on you Mr Shelby, eh?’ you said sheepishly, causing Tommy to laugh.

‘Perhaps…’ Tommy said before taking a pause. ‘This is for you Y/N. I thought you might like it’ Tommy said as he handed you a book entitled ‘Changing the way we think – A contemporary view on the Revolution’.

‘Well, thank you Mr Shelby. But please enlighten me as to why are you are gifting this to me? I am sure you know that this book favours communism’ you asked.

‘It became obvious to me that this would take your interest and I suppose that I have a conscience after all. In fact, I felt as though I needed to apologise to you for my actions during our last encounter here at the library’ Tommy said.

‘I am delighted to hear that you are taking some responsibility for what happened between us Tommy’ you laughed. ‘And, I accept your apology’ you added with slight giggle before asking him whether it was ok for you to call him by his first name when your husband wasn’t around. You hated formalities.

Tommy agreed and told you that he had to leave shortly. According to him, he had business matters to attend to.

‘Can you stay for one drink at least? I have Whiskey’ you said.

‘Sure. I suppose why not’ Tommy said as he sat down on a chair near the desk in between the stack of books that haven’t been sorted yet.

You pulled out a small bottle of Irish Whiskey and two glasses from behind one of the shelves.

‘My husband doesn’t allow me to drink anything but champaign at public events. However, unbeknownst to him, I would, occasionally, indulge on a glass of his very expensive whiskey after work with your sister Ada’ you said sheepishly as you poured you both a glass.

‘Well, don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me’ Tommy smirked as he took one of the glasses from your hands.

‘Now, Y/N, I am intrigued. Did you actually choose to marry Oswald Mosley?’ Tommy asked.

‘No, I didn’t. But he chose to marry me. My father is the chief of police in London which should explain to you why I was his chosen wife’ you explained. ‘Although, no doubt, you are also aware that he would, on occasion, choose other women to keep him company as well’ you said shyly.

‘I’ve heard your stepmother is one of those other women he chooses to interact with privately on occasion. Is that true?’ Tommy asked sheepishly.

‘You know it is’ you laughed.

‘And it does not bother you?’ Tommy asked.

‘That my husband fucks my stepmother, my sister and every second whore in London? No, it does not bother me. At least this way he keeps his hands of me’ you said with a laugh.

‘I consider your husband’s taste when it comes to women rather questionable’ Tommy chuckled.

‘And why is that?’ you asked.

‘Because he’s got you. What does he want these other women for, eh?’ Tommy said.

‘Because he likes variety. Despite, I cannot give him a child. He said I am not worth his attention or effort’ you said after taking a deep breath.

‘The bruises, on your arms and neck, was this him then?’ Tommy asked, causing you to nod, small tears beginning to run down your face.

‘Yes, we argued and when I do not agree with him then this is what happens’ you said rather upset.

‘I am sorry’ Tommy said as he handed you his handkerchief so that you could wipe away your tears.

‘Are you? Because you seem to be reinforcing his ideals and you aren’t exactly faithful towards your wife either’ you said.

‘Perhaps you have gotten the wrong idea about me Y/N. And, for what it’s worth, me and my wife have an arrangement in place which permits me to be with other women. I would never hurt her. Also, no doubt you are already aware as to why I married her, eh?’ Tommy asked.

‘So, you don’t love your wife?’ you asked.

‘No, I don’t love my wife. But I trust and respect her and I promised her that I will agree with her request for a divorce after the elections. Perhaps your husband would be prepared to do the same’ Tommy said.

‘I think you know my husband better than that Mr Shelby’ you chuckled. ‘He will never let me go unless I am buried in the ground’ you said.

‘You might be surprised Y/N. I know that he’s taken an interest in another woman who supports his ideals’ Tommy said.

‘Well, perhaps there is hope for me then Tommy…’ you said before taking a deep breath.

‘You know, I often overhear Oswald talking, over the phone. He recently made allies in Germany and he is getting involved with the right-wing party over there which seems to be gaining popularity. I am not sure whether you are aware of this Tommy’ you said.

‘Why are you telling me this Y/N?’ Tommy asked, his face serious.

‘Because I can help you’ you said.

‘Help me with what, eh?’ Tommy asked.

‘With information. I have researched you after our encounter at the ball and, in the course of my research, I met a woman named Jesse Eden who was present in Birmingham during the assassination attempt on my husband. The man they believed to be the shooter was in France with you and, unlike my husband, I do not believe in coincidences’ you said.  

‘What you are alleging is absurd and you need to be careful when dealing with Jesse Eden. You should not involve yourself with the communists behind your husband’s back’ Tommy said.

‘Thomas, my husband beats me and treats me like a common whore. I have nothing to lose’ you said.

Tommy took a deep breath following your comment. He was speechless over the lack of fear in your eyes.

For some reason, he trusted you and you reminded him a lot of his late wife Grace when he first met her. You were young and determined to do the right thing and, looking at you, took Tommy back in time when he allowed himself to become vulnerable and let his feelings control him.

It wasn’t something that Tommy wanted to admit to himself, but he cared for you in the most obscure way. After France, this was a rare occurrence but, in this moment, Tommy’s feelings of guilt and desire for you took over his reasonable thinking mind.

‘Can you get a copy of the call records from the phone at your house from the directory?’ Tommy asked, causing you to nod.

‘Alright, then perhaps we can help each other, eh? Meet me tomorrow at 7 o’clock at the steel factory on Watery Lane’ Tommy said.

‘If my husband is home, I cannot leave at that hour’ you responded.

‘I will make sure that he won’t be home until the early hours of the morning’ Tommy said.

You agreed with Tommy’s request and, over the next few days, you were carefully collection the records he had requested.

The Factory

At 6 o’clock, your husband left the house to meet with a woman. You were certain that Tommy had arranged this, but you didn’t mind.

You quickly put on your coat and got into your Bentley which was parked behind the house.

The drive took you thirty minutes and you arrived at Watery Lane slightly early.

The factory door was open and you walked inside, making sure that no one saw you.

‘Did anyone follow you?’ Tommy asked after he greeted you, causing you to shake your head.

You followed Tommy through the building. Not a single person was inside. It was only you and Tommy and Tommy was quick to take you to his office on the upper floor.

His office was large with a brown cedar desk in the middle of it and a dark red leather lounge, a brown cedar table and two leather chairs on the side beneath a large window.

He had lidded the fire in his office and it was obvious to you that he had been working from his office for quite some time before you got there.

You sat down on the lounge and took off your coat, placing it over one of the arm chairs.

‘You are hurt’ Tommy said as he observed another large bruise on your arm.

‘It’s fine Tommy, I am used to it. Perhaps I am just weak’ you said as some tears were running down your cheeks as you opened your bag and pulled out a piece of paper.

You handed the paper to Tommy. It contained the phone records from the last three days.

‘I will make this right Y/N. I promise’ Tommy said as he sat down next you.

Tommy handed you a glass of whiskey and took the piece of paper from you before wiping your tears away with his thumbs.

‘Jesse Eden was right’ you chuckled as you took a sip of the whiskey he had given you.

‘About what?’ Tommy asked.

‘That, deep down inside, you are a man with morals’ you said as you gently touched his cheek, catching him by surprise.

‘And you are stronger than you think Y/N’ Tommy said before giving you a gentle smile which was somewhat unusual coming from Tommy.

In that moment, you remembered your kiss and the short period of intimacy between you several weeks earlier, an accident of some sort and an escape from reality for you.

Where would things have gone if he didn’t ask your name and if you never knew his? Would you have broken your vows again by now, the vows that meant nothing to you?

‘You know Tommy, I just want to feel something for once in my life. Feel desired, loved and wanted. Perhaps I am just being selfish fighting this fight against my husband but I want more from life than just being married to a man like him’ you said.

‘Y/N, this has nothing to do with being selfish. You are doing the right thing. It’s for the greater good of many people. You will be free of him one day and, when you are, you will get to experience everything that you deserve. Desire, love, everything you want. I promise’ Tommy said as he cupped your face gently.

‘Tommy, the truth is that I don’t want to wait any longer to feel all these things. I know that I might not actually get out of this alive if my husband finds out that I betray him and I don’t want to miss out’ you said.

‘So, what are you suggesting?’ Tommy asked.

‘Make me feel desired Thomas, please’ you said with need in your eyes. ‘I know you want to be with me. I’ve seen it in your eyes and I felt it that day at the library’ you said.

Tommy knew that this was a very bad idea, but he wanted you as much as you wanted him. He wanted you since the day he met you at the orphanage. You intrigued him just the way Grace intrigued him when she first started to work at the Garrison.

After taking a deep breath and unable to hold back his desire any longer, he leaned in and kissed you gently but passionately.

His soft lips pressed against yours while his hands caressed your face gently. It was unlike any other kiss you had ever experienced.

‘Is this what you want?’ Tommy asked as he broke the kiss for a moment.

‘This and so much more Tommy, please’ you said as you crashed your lips back onto his.

You had only ever been with one man before and this was your husband, who was brutal and hadn’t pleasured you, not even once. It was all about him when he forced himself on you and, luckily for you, the last time he made you sleep with him was almost a year ago.

With Tommy, you could feel desire. It was mutual desire for each other.

‘Alright…just another secret to add to our list of secrets, eh?’ Tommy smirked after he broke the kiss and placed a blanket and some pillows onto the floor in front of the fire place.

You looked at him curiously before he took your hand and guided you over towards the fire place before kissing you again gently.

‘I will give you what you want. But this needs to stay between us Y/N’ Tommy said as a soft smile ran over his lips.

‘That goes without saying Tommy’ you smiled while Tommy removed his suit jacket, gun holster and shoes.

You also slipped off your shoes but did not know what to do next, looking at Tommy full of questions.

But, within a split second, your questions were answered by Tommy’s actions. He caught your body to his, and you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your breasts into his chest.

Not knowing what to say, you reached up and pulled his mouth down to yours again. The touch of his warm lips brushing against yours caused a thrill of excitement to rush through you once more. His kiss was soft, gentle, and then became more urgent as you opened your mouth to accept his tongue. Your heart pounded so hard it hurt as you kissed him back fervently.

‘You are beautiful’ Tommy said as your lips drifted apart before kissing you again, deepening and lengthening it all the more, showing just how much he wanted you. This was the first time you were told this by a man and it felt amazing coming from him.

After your lips finally drifted apart, he simply smiled at you. The smile that crossed his face warmed your trembling limbs and hid your excited nervousness. You smiled in return, not trusting your voice. Of course, you wanted this every bit as much as he did. You wanted him more than anyone you had ever known, but now you felt somehow unstable when finally faced with having sex for the first time with a man you had actually chosen to be with.

The bravado you usually wore like a shield seemed to desert you, and even though you remained fully clothed, you felt naked under his heated gaze. You suddenly worried about your inexperience, your body and if he would still look at you in the same way once you were stripped of your clothes. God, this was a mistake. He couldn't want you the same way that you wanted him. You didn't know how you had managed to convince yourself that this could work.

Tommy saw the panic of insecurity rise in your eyes, and he reached out to gently push a stray strand of hair behind your ear and grazed your bottom lip with his thumb before bringing his mouth to yours again. It was a slow kiss, deepening as his desire built even further. He knew he needed to go slow with you, take you gently after all you’ve been through.

A hot rush travelled through your body as you responded to his kiss and felt him toying with the buttons on the back of your dress. One button at a time popped open under his fingers, and the cool air wrapped itself around your shoulders as he slid the bodice of the dress down to expose to his gaze the lace bra that you wore. You gasped as you felt him nuzzle into your neck and trace your collarbone with his lips.

Tommy groaned at the sight of you, trailing his fingers over the delicate white lace bra.

‘Are you wearing panties that match?’ Tommy asked with curiosity.

‘Yes, of course’ you moaned as he brushed his fingers across your lace-covered nipples. They surged under his caress and sent piercing streaks of arousal to your pussy.

His caress was like a hot spark through the fabric, and his touch excited you like you hadn't believed possible from your past experiences.

You didn't know how you would withstand his hands on the naked skin of your breast as you felt him reach behind you for the clasp. You felt the pressure of the material release, and without the slow unveiling you had expected, he pulled it away quickly and your breasts spilled out, ripe and firm, as the lace garment fell to the floor.

‘God, you're beautiful’ Tommy said again. But this time, his voice sounded more than husky, scratchy even, as if it was raw with the heat and lust he felt for you.

You felt a blush creep up your neck in response to his comment. The urge to cover your chest with your arms was strong, but you resisted.

Instead you decided to take the words he had uttered and bolster your flagging self-confidence to ask for what you wanted now.

‘Touch me please, Tommy’ you groaned. You'd hoped your voice would sound strong and self-assured. Unfortunately, you couldn't pull it off, and it shook with pure anxiety.

‘You couldn't stop me now if you tried’ Tommy groaned, cupping your breast and leaning down to swipe his tongue across one hard nipple.

‘Oh god Tommy’ you whimpered, as he teased the hard, little bud with his lips and rolled the other stiff nipple between two fingers. Your legs felt like they might collapse under you.

‘Maybe you better lie down eh’ Tommy grinned as he guided you onto the blanket and pillows on the floor.

Tommy was quick to remove his shirt but left on his black suit pants for now before leaning down over you and kissing you once more.

His lips soon trailed down your neck and returned to your small naked breasts.

There was intense look on his face as he took one of your thus-far neglected breast into his warm mouth. He licked and sucked, alternating between the two stiff peaks, until you trembled and gasped on the edge of something you'd never experienced before. You felt feverish with excitement. Your mouth was dry, but your body was more alive than it had ever been before. Without him having touched your pussy, it was wet, yet felt as if it was on fire and throbbing with need.

Shivers of anticipation shot up your spine, and you sucked your breath in raggedly as he dragged his insistent tongue down, letting it trail over your belly and to your navel. He pushed down on the bottom half of your dress, and you lifted your hips off the bed to help him remove it. Tommy took his time exploring your body, trailing his fingers and mouth over your belly and thighs, before running them teasingly over the lace of your panties, making your moan loudly.

‘Take off your panties. I want to see all of you’ Tommy said. His voice was thick with longing.

The panties were moist, evidence of your excitement, and you were certain that he could smell your arousal as you hooked your thumbs inside the waistband of the lacy white panties and wriggled out of them. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but also incredibly excited by the expression on his face, as he watched you offer your body to him. His expression showed eagerness, pleasure, even greed, you thought. There was no sign of the trepidation you had expected to see there.

Without taking his gaze from you he stood up and opened his belt and the zipper of his pants and finally shoved them down his legs with his underwear. He kicked them off and stood before you.

You couldn't stop the gasp that escaped your lips. Tommy's body was well-toned, with a broad chest and slightly tapering waist. Short hairs nestled between his nipples and ran in a thin wisp upwards towards the top of his chest which was covered with some army tattoos.

But it was his cock that held your attention. It stood, swollen and erect, thrusting out from his dark pubic hair. Your breath caught in your throat. It appeared impossibly thick and long, with distended veins running along the shaft. Your pussy throbbed at the sight of it, but your stomach churned in repressed fear. None of the intimate male parts you had seen before had ever looked quite so imposing. Could you take it? Would it fit? Oh God, you would have to stop him... Would he let your stop him now?

As he joined you again on the blanket in front of the fire place, his hands moved slowly and tenderly over your body, pushing the anxiety from your mind as they wandered over your contours and cupped your pussy gently. You groaned softly as his fingers caressed the lips, wet with your arousal, and then slid between their moistness into the entrance of your pussy. Tommy buried his face against your neck, kissing it gently.

You moved your pelvis in time with his probing fingers. They were curious and insistent and were creating marvellous sensations in your pussy.

You groaned and spread your legs wider, allowing him easier access.

‘Oh God, Tommy, that feels so…’ Your voice faded as he took immediate advantage of your pleasure, dipping his finger deeper inside your wetness. Your hips jerked suddenly at the familiar but yet pleasurable sensation of being penetrated by is thick fingers.

Tommy felt the heavy beating of your heart. Its rhythm matched his own, but the throbbing in his cock was wilder than he could remember. It took every ounce of his willpower to restrain himself and not plough into your immediately. The sight of you, naked beneath him, drove him crazy.

Unable to restrain his need to taste you properly, he kissed down your body again so that he could let his tongue slide through your glistening labia and taste your delicious essence as his lips sought out your fleshy clit.

‘Oh, Tommy! Oh, shit!’ you moaned, squirming under his mouth.

No one had ever kissed you there, in your most intimate area.

Your nails dug into his scalp to hold him there. You didn't want him to ever stop. His tongue was creating sensations in your that you had never experienced before. Masturbation had always been good for you. You knew how to use your fingers expertly to bring yourself to climax, but this was different. It was warmer, wetter and more teasing, with an intense build up that made you want to thrash around and cry out in pleasure and frustration. You rocked your pelvis against his mouth, your inhibitions fading into the background of the sensations he gave you. You moved with him, demanding more as he licked and explored you.

A squeal of pure pleasure tore from your lips as your spasms started deep inside. You trembled and gasped at the sensations that raced through your body to your pussy and exploded in a wave of pleasure that radiated back throughout your body again. As the waves of sensation crossed each other, you swore you would pass out. You held on to the here and now, enjoying the wild ride, and when you opened your eyes at last, you found him smiling at your, the edges of his mouth glistening with your juices.

‘Holy fuck, Tommy’ you said as he moved back up towards you which is when you boldly reached out to caress the rigid cock pressed into your side, eager at the thought of giving him the same pleasure he had just given you.

It was hot and hard in your hands, and a small trickle of precum dribbled from the tip. Moving to a better position, you bent your head and tentatively stroked the velvety shaft against the side of your soft cheek, before dragging the tip of your tongue over the crown. Very gently, you drew it into your mouth and sucked slowly, lovingly, savouring his meaty thickness. You were surprised by your own enjoyment of this. You hated doing this to your husband when you were required to, but with Tommy, it was different.

‘Fuck, I'm hanging on by a thread here, Y/N, and I won't be able to hold out if you do that much longer’ he grunted after about ten minutes of you pleasuring him and as he watched your latch your soft lips onto his throbbing hardness. You moaned, overcome with the sensation of having him in your mouth and the taste of his excitement.

‘Then don't. I came, so come for me, Tommy. I want you’ you said after lifting your lips from his cock and looking up at him through hooded lids that only served to stoke the fire of his desire to even higher levels.

‘No’ he groaned and pulled you from his cock, pushing your back onto the blanket.

‘The first time I come tonight will not be in your mouth’ he grimaced.

A rush of adrenaline shot through you as he moved between your thighs. You felt the heat coming off him as he nudged himself against the moist outer lips of your pussy.

You spread your legs, and he rubbed the head of his cock over your slickness.

He hesitated for a second as he struggled to get himself under control then, leaning forward and supporting himself with his arms, he pressed ahead, pushing himself into your wetness.

His attention was focused on the warm, wet feeling of your lips surrounding his cock. They opened slowly to him, and he slowly pushed himself into the velvety depths of you.

‘Oh, Tommy’ you moaned. Your voice was tremulous and shaky as he filled you and stretched you beyond what you had known.

Hearing your tremulous moan, he thrust forward sharply and groaned as he slid all the way up inside you.

You winced and bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from crying out.

Your breathing was fast and shallow as your pussy opened and stretched to take all of him.

Despite the soreness and feeling of being overfull, it was a wondrous moment for you, finally knowing what it felt like to be with a man who you desired.

It wasn’t long until you became accustomed to the amazing fullness, yet he struggled to accustom to you.

 ‘Fuck, you're tight’ Tommy gasped at the snugness of you, barely holding onto his self-control. Now that he was in deeper, surrounded by your wetness, he was careful not to move, to let you get used to the feel of him inside you.

It almost killed him not to plunge repeatedly into you. His cock felt harder than it ever had and your cries of pleasure, knowing no one had ever made you feel like this, made him feel more virile, more potent than he ever had.

‘I'm okay Tommy. You don't have to hold back’ you said as you breathed into his neck, clinging on to him tightly.

You wrapped your legs around his hips and raked your nails down his back as he sunk deeper into you. The eyes looking down at you were tinged with concern and fire, but you wanted his desire, his passion, to feel beautiful in his arms. You wanted him to make love to you, but you also wanted him to fuck you.

Tommy moved his hips slowly, sliding his cock back and forth inside you, letting you get used to the rhythm.

You moved with him, intuitively pushing your pelvis upwards as he slid into you. Each time he buried himself in your pussy, your clit was trapped against the upper side of his shaft. You moaned loudly at the exquisite sensations and ground your pussy up against him even harder, pumping back faster, until the sounds of your bodies slapping against each other and the squelching sound of your passionate fucking sent a wave of need and pure lust through him.

‘Oh yes Tommy’ you gasped, licking his neck and biting at his shoulders.

‘Don't hold back. Please, I need you to fuck me’ you gasped again, unbelieving that you had said the words that chased around your brain out loud.

your words caused the blood to rush through his veins and pound in his head. He stared into your desire-filled gaze but, when his eyes locked with yours, a deeper connection hit him with more force than he had ever known with any woman since Grace.

‘Fuck Y/N’ Tommy moaned. Your name tore from his lips as he plundered your body. His tongue drove into your mouth, sweeping inside, tasting, commanding, and taking what he needed. He could no longer restrain himself and he let himself go, fucking you the way he'd wanted to ever since you had appeared in his life. With a growl of pure lust, he pumped his hips, plunging into you over and over. He couldn't get deep enough.

‘Oh god Tommy, don’t stop’ you moaned as he drove into you. Your body arched and undulated under his fevered lovemaking. The muscles of your pussy clenched and spasmed around his cock as a great bubble of pleasure rose up from your toes, engulfed you and burst into shards of explosive release that had you shuddering and sobbing.

‘Fuck’ Tommy moaned at the sight of your pleasure. Your face and torso were flushed, your breath raspy, as you writhed beneath him and clawed at him while your body peaked again.

You cried out his name once more, and he lost it. A roar exploded from him as his body crested and he toppled over the edge. His cock throbbed and pulsed, spilling his anguish and a steady stream of cum into you.

After he came down from his high, he collapsed on you gasping, trying to regain his breath.

After he gently pulled out of you, you could feel some of his warm cum leak from your most intimate part as he rolled to the side, lying next to you.

He held you close as your head was resting on his chest.

‘I am sorry for the unpleasantness of the location and the hard wooden floor’ Tommy chuckled.

‘There is no need to be sorry Tommy. You’ve just given me more pleasure than anyone before’ you said, causing Tommy to smile.

‘I promise that, next time, we will fuck on a bed, eh…a comfortable bed’ Tommy smirked.

‘So, this wasn’t a one off then?’ you asked.

‘It doesn’t have to be, if we are careful’ Tommy said, thinking that, how much worse could it possibly get. You are already conspiring against your husband together so, when you meet to exchange information, you might as well sleep with each other.

But little did Tommy and you know that your husband may soon find out about your indiscretions when nature takes its course.

[sparkledfirecracker]

Wrong Encounter

Synth’s 5K Follower Challenge / How it started – How’s it going?

@syntheticavenger , Congrats on reaching 5K and thank you for hosting this magnificent celebratory challenge.

Title: Wrong Encounter

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader

Challenge: Any character but arguing over being charged for something you didn’t order at a restaurant and the owner comes to assist.

Warning: 18+ only, dark content, explicit language, explicit sexual content, vaginal play/teasing?, sex/human trafficking?, sexwork, forced prostitution, forced sexwork, smut, unprotected sex, NonCon

A/N: I can’t say this enough; Synth thank you for inspiring me to write again!  I could have gone any direction yet this came out and fought me along the way, so I whipped out the old skool pen and paper. Maybe a little too save on the warnings, but at least they’re there. Don’t think it is dark enough, so enjoy this masterpiece of crappiness, because editing is not making it any better with this beer I’m consuming. Also as a non-native tongue here, so ALL mistakes are my own. Only lightly proofread, so don’t come for me.

ENJOY!

Pictures for moodboard inspo found on pinterest, so all the credit goes to the respectful owners. The quote inspired the final part to this.

How it started

The red ambiance of the room mixed well with the black shining floor and hanging chandeliers, it was slick and well set up. Looking around the room had you wondering what the parties must be like at night. A colleague had recommended this new place – an exquisite night – as they had described it. Yours ending miserably having a disagreement with your waiter.

The waiter had a way of pissing you off tonight and irritation was clearly bubbling “I’ve only had the steak with sides and a fucking bottle of rose, not the entire fish tank and three bottles of your most expensive champagne” your white knuckles balling around his collar as you practically screamed in his face.

 “There was another table that said you would pay for them.” It sounded like a plea of trying to settle the rage that was coursing through your body.

 “OUTRAGEOUS -- you don’t fact check with your customers?” You seethed “Listen up you little shit. I want to speak to your manager” throwing him out of your grasp, making him stumble backwards bumping into someone.

 “He’s already here and you have his undivided attention” your waiter stands in front of the large man awkwardly “Get back to work Jensen, I’ll deal with this fiery kitten” he nods and practically runs off.

 Annoyance rising at his degrading comment. “Perfect, an insult to go with the wrongly charges to my bill”

 “Ma’am please calm down, I’m sure there’s a way to resolve this mishap” his stance intimidates you

 Your eyes wandered to his silver nametag “Why should I calm down, mister Drysdale? Or should I say, entitled prick?” there was pride in your comeback, no-one should ever call you a fiery little kitten.

 “Ma’am, Ransom, please and watch your mouth, because we have places for woman like you.” It almost sounds like a threat and you’re willing to fight him on it.

 He’s a dark enigma, you can feel it radiate from his body. You’re too caught in taking in his enchanting features and wonder what kind of sorcery this man is using on you to make you feel so small.

 “Why don’t we settle this in my office” A charming smile thrown your way, but you’re too caught up in observing the blue-eyed man in front of you “Ma’am?”

 “Sorry, yeah, the idiot waiting on me charged more to my bill than I even consumed.” You explained without him asking for any of it.

 “Unfortunate, but it happens, please follow me to my office so we can resolve this. Can I offer you a coffee or something else for the inconvenience?”

 “No – No, your waiter overcharged me. No need to sit down somewhere private for this idiotic mishap” words falling firmly from your tongue “Just fix my bill so I can be on my way and never come back.”

 “Please, let us sort this out, if you just come with me to my office -- we can talk this over” His calming persistence had you hooked and you took a deep breath in.

 “Fine.”

 “Great, thank you – Jensen, we’ll be in my office, don’t fuck up more than you already have” You roll your eyes at the barked order, he felt superior to his employees.

 You had followed him into his office, the golden name plate beaming on the door. The dark aesthetic of his office fitted well with the ambiance he’d created in his restaurant and nightclub, it felt luxurious and exclusive, sprinkled with a bit of mystery.

 Ransom stood by his bar cart filled with expensive liquors while your eyes lingered on the well-stocked bookshelves. Ransom Drysdale didn’t look like much of a reader to you.

 “My grandfathers, well most of it anyway, he’s a writer and owns Blood Like Wine Publishing” Ransom explained looking at your admiring gaze. You look back at him noticing his motioning gesture to the chairs “Please sit, can I offer you a drink?”

 “No thank you” shaking your head at his offer, he poured his poison of choice, even though you had refused he handed you a glass. It would be rude to decline again, you accepted the tumbler letting your fingers trace the outlines of the crystal glass in your hand.

 “I won’t keep you for long. What happened?”

 “Tonight I celebrated my promotion and a colleague recommended this place. To find out that – Jensen, I believe his name is – added the entire fish menu and three bottles of your exclusive champagne to my bill. Only to justify it with -- the other customers told me that you would pay for them – kinda bullshit” anger returning you gulped down the strong spirit.

 “I apologize for the experience. How about we forget this night? I want you to come back somewhere next week. Let us wine and dine you, give you the experience you deserved to have had tonight.” He took a sip from his own glass looking at you with darkened yet hopeful eyes.

 It had been a tempting offer, was it going to be worth your time or would you be left disappointed again? “You know what, fine. I’ll be here next week, same time, same day.”

 How’s it going?

One week later

Everything in you had screamed not to continue the night in Ransom’s office. Yet here you we, having had that hard liquor burning down your throat. He’d explained how you owed him now and that his interest in your aggression -- a week prior -- had sparked his desire. There was no going back, there was no way out.

 Ransom’s looking forward to what is to come. For now, he’s cherishing this moment, he loves the switch being pulled, when the terror fills your eyes and start to physically fight him. They always did and he knows you will too, within the soundproof walls screaming when there is still fight left.

 Your mind still trying to comprehend his plans for you. You weren’t sure what to say, instead you settled on staring back at him. Your optic view taking in his well-build frame. You licked your lips unknowingly when he flexed his pecks under the crisp white button down. Your body betraying you by your crossed legs clenching together.

 “Like what you see, precious?” your wandering gaze shot up to meet his eyes, your cheeks blushed as you got caught in the act “-I am certainly liking what I’m seeing”

 “Don’t flatter yourself, Mister Drysdale” you roll your eyes, leaning forward to set the empty tumbler on his desk. He’d taken a step sideways having his crotch right in your face. “Is this really how you want to settle this?”

 “Ransom, I insist -- and funny you should ask.” He looks amused by your question “This is exactly how we’re going to finish this extravaganza I offered you”

 He was on you before you could even make a comeback. His strong arms had lifted you from the chair, kissing you roughly. A strong – almost painful – hold on your neck, other on your hip pushing you into him feeling his stiff shaft probing against your lower belly.

 You felt the shame rising as you let out a moan. His free hand hiking up your skirt, ripping your panties with his calloused hands. The sound snapped you back to reality of what was happening. You tried to push him off, but struggled in his strong grasp. Grabbing his wrist digging your nails in into his flesh.

 “You evil spawn.” He roared crushing the grip on your neck, making you squirm “I was going to make this a pleasant thing, but now I’ll take what’s mine.”

 “Rail me daddy.” You taunted, you knew you shouldn’t, but there was nothing left to loose.

 “That mouth on you little minx. Not one to deny requests though, so the pleasure will be all mine -- Until.That.Cunt.Is.All.Fucked.Out.” with each word spoken he had rubbed himself on you, the heat in your pussy rising unwillingly.

 “I just didn’t know you were running a brothel.”

 “This is not a brothel, there are no prostitutes at this address. Just woman with disrespecting mouths like yours solicited for exclusive places like mine” Ransom muses “Because you’re staying right here – with me” He forces your neck to bend uncomfortably forcing you to look into his darkened orbs.

 Trying to fight him, but failed under his strength. Your body surrendering to his brutal force pressing you into the mahogany wood. The chime of his belt and zip being undone echoing through the room.

 “Don’t please.” You begged trying to get out of this horrible nightmare. A wrong encounter because of being wrongly charged for items you didn’t consume.

 “Let’s play a little game first; if those panties aren’t drenched - I’ll let you go” Keening at the cool air hitting your clit when Ransom’s hands opened your wet lips. “But – if that sweet little honey pot of yours is soaked for me, I’ll fuck you open with just my cock and you’ll stay right here -- forever.”

 “No.” you protested.

 His whispered confession only proved his twisted game. “I think you and I both know what it will be.” His fingers played with your clit and prodded your entrance. A soft wail escaped at his given attention. “I think you’ll be a nice addition to my selection of ladies.” Ransom couldn’t help but smirk at your powerless expression. His confession only added to the unwavering pain of realization that you were stuck in this newfound imprisonment.

 Thumbs pressing into your ass, his other fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. He slams into your fluttering cunt, the air leaving your body from his unforgiving pace. You scream loudly at the unwanted pleasure.

 You’re fully trapped underneath Ransom’s body, impaling you from behind continuously. “Scream for me!” It’s an order you won’t obey and you squeak when he balls your hair in his fist “Fierce little minxes like yourself are made for places like mine” Ransom growls into your ear. “Let me hear those gorgeous sounds, precious. Scream while you still can before it vanishes. No-one can hear you, scream for ME.”

 Ransom’s arm finds its way around your neck jerking you into his toned chest, your hips being bruised from the impact of the wood. Your hands grip his arm trying to loosen the chokehold, fighting for air into your lungs only to have it escape with every rut inwards. His free hand rubbing circles on your pulsating bead, his pleasured grunts making your stomach churn.

 Pleasure taken from your - desperate, powerless and giving - body in his arms. He ravishes your body, like you’re his personal favourite fucktoy. Your legs start to tremble and your orgasm builds rapidly under the abuse, little whimpers escaping you. Tears streaming down your cheeks at the realisation of being solicited for a brothel.

 Only seconds later your body surrendered to the fire within you, screaming out to Ransom while your body shook heavily in his hold. His arms let you go, your quivering body dropping on the desk, panting from the intense build orgasm. The lost air stings with every inhale, you’re too tired to fight him.

 Ransom sat down in his leather chair and picked up the phone. You tried to look away from him, but he is fast to grab your hair and keep the intense stare. Ransom’s pride beams, he’s a heartless beast. He’s always gotten what he wanted and you’re just a new addition to his elite gentlemen’s club.

 “Barber? Yes! She’s definitely the one. How I know? She’s fucked out on my desk, tight little cunt on her. Perfect for the job, draw up the contract will you” A snarled order followed by a darkened smile and filthy wink thrown your way. “Her mouth looks exquisite; I’ll make sure to reserve it for your cock. So she can suck it as a thank you!”

[lokislittlesigyn]

Wake Me - Loki x Reader [Oneshot]

[My masterlist, where this and my other fics can be found]

Pairing: Loki / gender neutral reader

Warnings: Angst. But fear not, for fluff awaits!

Author’s Note: I have legitimately no idea if I’ll write more Loki x Reader; I never intended to write any because I don’t know the reader so I can’t characterize the reader but then I had a headcanon.. And then I had an idea...

And then I wrote this and I thought “hmm, I should challenge myself to do a New Thing?” and then this happened. Blame Loki, maybe? He seems to be behind a lot of this.

Is there any demand for a taglist of.. Possible future Loki x Readers? I dunno? Let me know.

This fic is loosely based off a song by the same name, which is also one of my favorite songs! Enjoy. <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t notice it at first.

Not for the first few days… Weeks? You weren’t sure how long it had been happening. How long Loki had been leaving your bed in the middle of the night.

Your apartment was a decent size - more than decent, considering the average size of a New York City apartment. Being a close friend and employee of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts (was it Stark now?) had its perks. The apartment had a bedroom, a bathroom across the short hall, a living room which doubled as your workspace, and a good-sized kitchen. Even had a washer and dryer at the end of the hall, tucked neatly into a little closet that also held a few of your coats. As an added luxury, there was a small - very small - balcony off the living room. Hardly big enough to stand on, it was nevertheless a wonderful spot to sit and watch the sun set over the city. You loved living there, in that cozy space you’d made your own, and eventually welcomed Loki into. 

Loki. Not exactly someone you’d intended to end up with. Then again, who intends to fall in love with a god?

Who intends to fall in love at all?

You’d met through friends of friends, and that was about the only mundane thing about your relationship. Said friends of friends were the Avengers for crying out loud, and the moment you saw Thor in person you nearly froze from shock. The moment you saw his brother, however, your heart practically leapt out of your chest and into the hand Loki reluctantly extended, per his brother’s direction.

You took his hand in your own, trying not to tremble as you shook it. You gave your name. He gave his. You parted ways. A mundane interaction, right?

But again, few things about your relationship were mundane.

You would’ve written it off as a simple, regular greeting if Loki hadn’t found you later as you skulked along the edges of Tony’s huge party. You knew the hosts, of course, and some of the other guests - but everything was so big and frightening and new you hardly knew what to do with yourself. 

How were you, a regular human, supposed to deal with all… That? Heroic wasn’t a word you’d really use to describe yourself. Let alone super-heroic - that title was reserved for the incredible individuals around you, whose personalities and achievements eclipsed your own. You mulled over the thought, drink still clutched firmly in hand, but untouched.

And that was when Loki commented on the fact you looked “nearly as miserable as he felt.” You couldn’t help but blush a little and laugh at the comment. You quipped something back - something about misery loving company, and Loki’s eyebrows raised. His expression gave little else away, though. It hardly ever did.

It wasn’t until many months after the party, after you and Loki had gotten to know each other better and started dating, that he whispered the truth to you: the idea that anyone would be gladder with him around than with him gone, was astonishing to him. He could hardly believe it.

But when it came to you? He believed you.

You had no reason to lie to him. No need to impress him, or earn his favor, or act cordially for fear of an Asgardian royal. You were safe at that party, and you were safe when you visited him at the Avengers compound - you had no reasonable ulterior motives. Nothing to hide.

And, likewise, he had no reason to actively hide things from you, now that you lived together and you knew about his past, about his parentage.

Or, you thought he had no reason to hide things from you…

So why was he leaving you at night?

The first night you truly noticed it was on a dark, cool night of spring. 

You’d left the bedroom window open while you fell asleep, and upon waking up thought to yourself, still under a veil of sleepiness, that you should probably get up and close it. But as your eyes opened and adjusted to the dark, you noticed two things.

First, the window was closed, the curtains completely drawn. 

Second, the place next to you, where Loki usually lie, was empty. Completely empty, the bed covers pushed toward you to help keep you warm. Still half-asleep, your hand smoothed over the sheets to his spot - cold. He’d been gone a while. 

You squinted to see through the crack in your bedroom door, but couldn’t make out if the bathroom light was on. Maybe he’s in there.. You shrugged to yourself, flipping back over and nuzzling into your pillow. You’d meant to stay awake until he returned, just to be sure he was okay, but sleep quickly washed over you again.

When you woke up the next morning, you realized you definitely should’ve been able to see if the bathroom light was on, had it been on, so Loki couldn’t have been in there. He was never one for midnight snacking, as far as you could tell, so he probably wasn’t in the kitchen.

The more you thought about it, the more it bothered you. You tried to brush it aside - after all, Loki was a very private person, slow to trust or to show much emotion. He was vulnerable with few people... Maybe only one person - you. The trust between you had been hard-won, and you loved every new piece of himself he showed you. 

He also enjoyed quiet time, often spent with books. Reading, writing notes, sometimes even napping in the safety of your apartment, his forgotten book on his chest as he lie draped across the couch, his lanky limbs hanging off the edges. You really needed a bigger couch.

Yes, you assured yourself. Loki just needed time alone every now and then. Everyone did, right? 

You tried to ignore it, you truly did. 

But later, it happened again. 

You woke up to an empty bed, a dark room, and the door pulled to. This time you could swear you saw a light coming from the other room, so this time you figured he was in the bathroom and once again you succumbed to sleep.

~~~~

The morning after, you woke up to your regular routine: Get up, get dressed, make coffee for two, eat some sort of breakfast, and get to work. Work didn’t exactly have a set location - that close friendship with the Starks stemmed from having worked with Pepper for years, and now since you worked for Stark Industries, you enjoyed several perks. 

Sometimes Pepper brought you in on-site, other times (more often than not, considering the fact you had an ex-villain alien god to worry about… and not everyone was convinced about the ex part) you simply received work on your secure Stark-tech computer and worked remotely. From home, from a cafe, even from the Avengers compound when you visited. (You had a room there, too - as did Loki. Courtesy of Tony.)

So as you sat with your laptop in front of you on your desk, the window cracked to let some air in, you started the day. Coffee in hand, a half-eaten croissant next to you.

Loki stood next to you, sipping his own coffee. 

He liked to watch you work. Liked to distract you from work too - he wasn’t the god of mischief for nothing.

“Sleep well?” He broke the silence first.

You took another bite of breakfast. “Yeah. You sleep okay?”

He shifted his weight. “Fine.”

“You sure?”

His hand touched your shoulder, as if to reassure you. “Just fine. How long are you working today?” His fingers smoothed their way from your shoulder to your clavicle and back - slowly, rhythmically. 

“I literally just got started,” you muttered a soft laugh, and he chuckled in turn.

“But I like spending time with you.”

“Well I like spending time with you, too. But work is important.”

“Would it be less important if I gave Stark something better to worry about than..” Loki leaned over, scrutinizing the screen, “Interview paperwork?”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Loki, do not attack my boss, please.”

“I said nothing about attacking him.”

“Loki.”

“Yes, love?” He smiled down at you. You huffed - he had no right to be this charming, nor this cute - but that worry was still gnawing at you. Why had he left last night? 

“Are you sure you slept okay?”

He paused a moment, then smiled - but it seemed forced. “Yes. I slept just fine - do you need to talk about something..?”

“You left.. In the middle of the night, I woke up and you were gone.”

He swallowed. “I hadn’t realized you were awake - forgive me.” His hand slid down your shoulder, to your arm - and then away. “It was just a bit of restlessness, darling, you mustn’t worry.” He kissed the top of your head, then straightening up, raised his coffee mug to his lips again. “I’ll leave you to that.. Riveting work of yours… Let me know if you ever need a welcome distraction.”

“You’re always welcome,” you smirked slightly. You weren’t convinced he was only restless but.. Maybe he was. Who knew? Loki was a mystery to many. You’d try to believe him, at least.

“Am I?” He grinned. “Then I’ll be sure to distract you often.” With a small wink, he turned and left.

~~~~

The next time you noticed it, it seemed later in the night. And this time, you heard something too. Crying. Talking - like a whisper, barely audible past the soft sobs.

The door was cracked again, but had swung a bit more open than the times before. That must be the source of the sound...

Resolved to figure out what was going on, you slid out of bed. Tried to stay quiet as you walked to the door and peered out.

There was faint light coming from the living room. A silhouette on the wall showed Loki’s position - in front of the balcony, the street lights casting his shadow. You inched down the hallway, stopping just before you reached the living room.

“...Mother, you would. I just know it. (Y/N) is endlessly beautiful, and intelligent, and… and kind…” Loki was sitting in the floor, his back to you. Dressed in the same clothes he usually wore to bed - loose pants and a comfortable green shirt. His long black hair was messy, and his body shook with sobs.

The door to the balcony was open, allowing a cool night breeze to drift in. An occasional car drove by, or plane flew overhead, but Loki was focused on the stars.

“Just like you. But I, I don’t.. I don’t deserve it. Any of it-” his voice cracked, “And I miss you.”

Your heart broke. You made your way across the living room, quietly, carefully. 

“I miss you every day,” Loki continued, shaky hands brushing hair back from his face, then gripping it in agony. “I-I wish we could speak, we could.. See each other.. That you could see me - see us, but... You’re not here.”

“Loki?” you muttered, and he inhaled sharply, turning around. 

Now you could clearly see the tears streaming down his face. His mouth was slightly open, but he closed it, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I- ... Darling, you shouldn’t be up at this hour,” He stood, blinking away his tears. “Go back to bed.”

You stood your ground, but tried to pick your words carefully. He looked so vulnerable, standing there in the dark, still trying to steady himself.

“No, something’s clearly wrong. Loki... How long has this been going on?”

“It doesn’t matter..”

“Yes it does.” You moved closer. He twitched - but let you approach, let you reach up to brush a tear off his cheek. More fell as he pressed his face against your palm, relishing the touch. His brows pressed together, he looked as though he could break at any time.

“Weeks,” he whispered.

“Oh, Loki..” You embraced him. He welcomed it, his arms wrapping around you, clutching you close to his shaking chest. He moved to lower himself and you followed, the both of you slowly sitting on the ground, you tucked against him, his body trembling with sobs.

Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes. What had this long life done to him?

How many nights had he cried alone?

It was several minutes before either of you spoke again. Loki calmed, his nose finding a comfortable place nestled against your hair, and his breath eventually steadied. His grip loosened. The crying slowed.

“I-I’m sorry.. I’m sorry I left you,” He gulped. “This is the only way I can talk to her anymore.”

You pulled away to see his face. Tilted your head. “Her..?”

Loki’s eyes met yours. “Frigga. My mother. She..” He couldn’t bring himself to say the next word.

“I remember.” You nodded slowly.

He’d told you a while ago that his mother had died, after Thor had brought up their parents. But he never said how. 

Loki clenched his jaw. “It… It was my fault, it was all my fault-” He settled into another bout of crying.

“Loki, love - that can’t be true. I-I don’t know everything about your life,” You cupped his face, bringing him to look at you. He sniffed, swallowing again. “I don’t. I wasn’t there for all of it. But I know you. And I know you would never, ever harm your mother.”

“But I did, I did- that monster, I told it how to escape - I told it how to reach her. And it did, and she-” He stopped himself, biting the inside of his cheek. His breath grew shaky again as he forced himself to speak. “There was a funeral. I wasn’t allowed to attend - Odin would never allow that. He barely wanted me alive in the first place,” he hissed, his face contorted with rage for a moment, before relaxing again. “I found out after. By then her body had returned to the stars..” Loki turned to the outside again.

Moonlight graced his skin, highlighting the tears still glistening on his cheeks. His eyes searched the heavens, as though begging for a sign - something real, something palpable, something to tell him she was out there. 

“Loki, I’m.. I’m so sorry. But it’s not your fault. It’s not.” You spoke as gently yet firmly as you could. Giving a monster - whatever it was - directions (you figured it was to spite the Asgardians who imprisoned him) didn’t equate to murder. He hadn’t intended it to play out that way, after all. But you could understand the guilt behind it.. And you hated the fact he’d carried that burden alone.

He stayed quiet. Pulled you closer, his chin on your shoulder, his eyes still trained on the sky. 

“I wish she could meet you.” he confessed, his head leaning against your own. His arms still firm around you, his hands finding yours - your fingers intertwined. “She’d love you.”

“I’d like to meet her, too. But maybe she can see us now.” You moved closer to him, your thumb stroking his hand. You felt Loki smile next to you - it was small, and fragile, but it was there.

“Perhaps she can,” he murmured. 

“Maybe she can see how happy you are - you’re happy, aren’t you?” You glanced at him. He kissed your temple, staying cuddled up against you. 

“Happier than ever. I.. Thank you, love. Thank you for finding me. I hadn’t the heart to, to ask you to join me… I’d hate to wake you.”

“Loki, you’re important to me. I love you, remember?” You turned, facing him fully, your back to the open door. “Can you promise me something?”

His brow furrowed slightly, but he seemed willing to listen, watching you intently.

“Promise me, if you’re lonely, wake me.”

Tears glistened in his eyes again. He nodded, slowly, and managed a soft smile.

“Yes, my love,” he murmured. “I promise.”

[orangeoctopi7]

Buzzfeed Unsolved: The Suspicious Crash of Stanley Pines

The theme for @stanuary week 3 is Crime... what about... TRUE CRIME? I started watching Buzzfeed Unsolved this last summer, so I’ve been wanting to do something like this.

If you don’t watch Buzzfeed Unsolved, this is probably gonna seem like a lot of rambling.

On the morning of July Fourth, 1982 in the sleepy logging town of Gravity Falls, Oregon, there was a firey explosion that wasn't part of the fireworks and festivities. A car had gone over the edge of the town's famed floating cliffs.

"Floating cliffs?" Shane asked

"They're like, giant overhangs. They're not just floating up in the middle of the air like Pandora or something." Ryan explained, showing Shane a photo on his phone.

"Oh, that's pretty."

"It is really pretty."

"What a beautiful place for a car to careen over a cliff."

Ryan cracked up.

"You get a lovely view as you plummet to your death." Shane imagined.

Between 6:15 and 6:20 PM, the Gravity Falls Police Department received six separate calls reporting seeing a yellow car in flames drive off the edge of the cliff and crash to the valley below.

When investigators arrived on the scene, they found the remains of a crushed and burnt 1971 Subaru DL Coupe. The police report notes finding that the brakes were cut, and evidence of gasoline being poured into the driver’s seat to start the fire. Strangest of all, no body was found in or around the crash, only a few burnt strands of hair.

“So, right off the bat, real suspicious.” Shane commented.

“Yeah, and it only gets more suspicious from here.” Ryan assured his co-host.

“And I’m assuming there’s no chance that they guy, y’know, got up and walked away from the crash?” 

“Oh, no, no way. You saw the picture of the cliffs.”

“Oh yeah, no way.”

“There’s no way anyone in the car would have survived that fall.”

“And it was on fire.”

“And it was on fire.”

Despite the lack of a body, the police determined from the few burnt strands of hair and an anonymous tip they received at 6:15 PM on the day of the crash, the driver of the car was one Stanley Pines, a 31 year old man from Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey. Allegedly, he had been coming to Gravity Falls, Oregon to visit his twin brother, Stanford, who lived just a ten minute drive from the cliff Stan’s car had driven off.

“Wait, wait, wait--” Shane interrupted Ryan’s explanation, “Twin brothers. Named Stanley and Stanford.”

“Yeah.”

“Who the f___ names their kids like that?”

“I know, right?”

“Were they identical twins?”

“Uh, I couldn’t find anything saying they were definitely genetically identical, but, uh, with the way this case goes, it’s safe to assume they were identical enough.”

“Yikes, I feel sorry for them growing up, can you imagine how often people got them mixed up?”

“Yeah, but imagine the kinds of shenanigans they must have gotten up to!”

“Oh, that’s true. There would have been plenty of shenanigans. Lots and lots of shenanigans.”

“If you had twins, would you give them cutesy twin names?” Ryan asked.

“No.” Shane answered firmly.

“I think I’d just do like, alliterative names. Nothing too similar.” 

“Yeah, no I think twins probably have to deal with enough confusion bull___ without having to throw similar names or the same initials into the mix.”

“Interestingly enough…” Ryan started.

“Yeah, I’m guessing from your comments that the twin thing plays into this.”

When interviewed by the police, Stanford claimed his brother never arrived at his house. However, testimonies of other townsfolk reported seeing a red 1967 El Diablo with a distinctive “STNLYMBL” vanity license plate driving up the road to Stanford’s house earlier that winter. The house is out in the woods, isolated from the rest of the town, so no one would drive up that way unless they were going to see the cabin.

“Well what if they just wanted to take a walk out in the woods?” Shane countered.

“It was in early February.” 

“Snowshoeing.”

“In a blizzard.”

“Ok, you do not have a weather report for the exact day they saw this car!”

“Two of the testimonies mention there was a snow storm that day. Plus, the license plate says STANLEY MOBILE.”

“Well, Stanley is a fairly common name.”

“You-you’re just being contrary to bug me now, aren’t you?” Ryan accused.

Shane just grinned.

What’s more, that same red El Diablo was the car Stanford now drove. 

“What!?” Shane laughed with disbelief for a moment before putting on a mocking tone. “Uh, yeah, he never showed up, but, uh, I have his car. I’m still driving it. Y’know, seemed like a waste to just let it sit in the driveway.”

“He didn’t even change the license plate.” Ryan added.

“Oh, of course not!” Shane said sarcastically. “Why go through all that trouble?”

Upon further inspection, the car that crashed was registered to Stanford, and had been reported totaled almost seven years prior.

“It’s interesting that they say it was totaled.” Ryan commented. “Because totalled just means that the damage is more expensive to fix than the car is worth, so it could have still been drivable.”

“And if you’re trying to fake a car crash, what better to use than an already worthless car?” Shane agreed. 

“Exactly.”

Stanley Pines was declared dead by auto accident and the case was closed in September of 1982, due to lack of evidence and quote: “A lack of interest from the involved parties”.

“A lack of interest from the involved parties!? What the h___ does that even mean?” Shane asked in bewilderment.

“It’s odd, to be sure.”

It’s when we look into the background of the presumed dead Stanley, and his brother Stanford, that this case becomes truly bizarre. 

Stanley Pines left home at the age of 17, and had brief but unsuccessful careers as an amature prize fighter and as a salesman, before he turned to a life of crime. Prior to his reported death, he had been in prison five times, in three different countries, and had lived under at least eight different assumed names, with several others that were never confirmed. He had known ties to the mob and drug cartels.

“Quite the shady character. That might explain why the police didn’t look too closely into his ‘death’.” Shane put air quotes around “death”.

“Well, does it? I mean, if they thought his death might have been related to the mob…” Ryan argued.

“They know better than to mess with the mob, even in Oregon.”

“I mean, we have seen in several past True Crime episodes, what can happen if you mess with the mob.”

“Oh yeah.”

“You don’t wanna do it.”

“Nope.”

His brother Stanford was no less strange. He was born with fully-functional polydactyly, meaning he had six fingers on each hand. It’s worth noting that after 1982, Stanford no longer had 6 fingers. He claims that he had them surgically removed, because, quote: “I was sick of people staring.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Shane said doubtfully.

“You don’t believe that explanation?”

“Let’s just say I find it highly suspect.”

Stanford was also a certified genius, graduating with the most PhDs Backupsmore University had ever awarded. As a graduate student, he worked as a researcher and inventor for the US Government. Some sources say he worked on top-secret experiments. 

In 1975, he received a $100,000 research grant, which he used to move to Gravity Falls and become a Paranormal Researcher. When he arrived in Gravity Falls, he was the subject of many rumors throughout the town, due to his reclusive nature and strange area of study. 

“Oh, so this guy was basically you.” Shane pointed out.

“He’s basically me if I didn’t have you.” Ryan agreed.

“Awww, that’s sweet!” Shane placed a hand over his heart.

Many residents reported seeing strange lights coming from Stanford’s home in the woods starting almost as soon as he moved in, as well as strange sounds.

“Well, it seems like Gravity Falls is a pretty small town. People gossip.” Shane reasoned.

“Ok, yeah, but people gossip about who’s cheating on who, or what business secretly sells drugs out the back. They don’t gossip about strange lights coming out of the new neighbor’s basement.”

“They could. It’s gossip. Gossip can be about anything.”

Reports of the lights stopped in late January of 1982. Just four months later, in March, Stanford began opening up his home for tours, and in a matter of weeks, transformed his home into a tourist stop called the “Murder Hut.”

“Oh my g__.” Shane stifled a laugh. “A little on the nose there, don’t you think?”

“He did rename it to the Mystery Shack about a year later.”

“Hmm, yeah I wonder why?” Shane asked facetiously. 

Stanford also exhibited paranoid behavior on several occasions before the crash, especially in the early months of 1982.

One local reported seeing Stanford screaming “No it isn’t, you creeps! I can see you just fine!” down an alleyway. Several other eyewitnesses reported seeing him fall out of his seat at the Triple Digits Truck Stop Diner on Route 14 and scream for something to “get out of his mind” before fleeing the building.

“So, he definitely seemed to think something was out to get him.” Ryan commented.

“Not the words of a sane man.”

“Unless something really was out to get him.”

“Eeeeh, even then…” Shane wiggled his hand in a so-so motion. 

Dan Corduroy, one of the few people who had regular contact with Stanford before he opened the Mystery Shack, had this to say about the sudden change from research lab to tourist trap:

“Oh, he’s definitely been acting differently. He was really shy before, hard to talk to even. He seemed uncomfortable spending a lot of time with people. I’d invite him over to one of my family’s cabins to visit, but he only ever wanted to visit the haunted one while we were all out of town. I’d say it was a good change, though. It wasn’t good for him to be alone all the time like that. I’m glad he’s finally spending time with other people.”

“He only wanted to visit our haunted cabin.” Shane repeated with disbelief. “Hey, do you wanna come over to visit one of our cabins?” He put on a voice. “Uh, that depends, what kind of cabins have you got?’ ‘Well there’s one by the lake, one with a nice view of the valley, and one that’s haunted.’ ‘Oh, I’ll take the haunted one!”

“What gets me is he only wanted to visit the haunted cabin while everyone else was out of town. We’ve stayed in our fair share of haunted places, and it was bad enough staying overnight, just me and you, but there is nothing that could convince me to spend the night in one of those places all by myself.”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure none of the places we’ve been to have actually been haunted, but I see what you mean. It’s not fun to go to a haunted house by yourself. It’s kinda boring.”

“Um, we’re not gonna get into this discussion now, because we still haven’t even gotten to the theories yet, but you’re wrong.”

The case came to light again in August of 2012, when Federal agents arrested Stanford Pines, and detained him for several hours for questioning. By the next day, he had been released, and officials stated that his arrest had been due to a false lead. What exactly that false lead was, however, was never stated.

Now that we’ve gone over the extensive background of this case, let’s get into the theories of what really happened that 4th of July in 1982.

Theory #1: The theory put forth by the police, that Stanley Pines died in a fiery car accident.

“So then how do they explain what happened to the body?” Shane asked.

“It doesn’t say.” Ryan.

“And why were the breaks cut?”

“No explanation given.”

“That’s a stupid theory, those cops ought to be fired.”

Ryan stifled a laugh. “You’re not wrong.”

Theory #2: That Stanley killed his brother, made it look like his own death, and took over his brother’s life. This would explain the loss of his extra fingers, the sudden change in behavior that led him to open up the Mystery Shack, and his sudden acquisition of Stanley’s car. It does not, however, explain the lack of a body in the crash.

“He could have disposed of his brother’s body somewhere else, and then just like, left an ice block on the gas pedal and let the car run itself off the cliff.” Shane theorized.

“That’s possible. I was also thinking, maybe the body was gone. Maybe Stanley didn’t necessarily kill Stanford, maybe they met up in the woods, Stanford got eaten by a bear, and Stanley, who was already in trouble with the mob, took advantage of the situation, and faked his own death.”

“How--why did you work your fear of bears into this?” 

“That’s just my variation on this theory.”

“Then why all the secrecy? Why not say that he was the one who got eaten by the bear? Why fake the car crash and then say his brother never showed up?”

“Because if the mob knew he’d talked to his brother before he died, maybe they’d come question him?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s a possibility.”

Theory #3: That Stanford killed Stanley and made it look like an accident. People who support this theory say the psychological trauma and guilt of killing his own brother may have driven Stanford to change his appearance and behavior to more closely resemble that of his dead brother.

“That’s… kind of a stretch.” Shane said slowly. “I feel like, Occam's Razor, theory 2 is more plausible.”

“What makes you say that one’s more plausible?”

“I dunno, just saying ‘He killed his brother and took his place’ seems a lot more likely than ‘The other brother killed him and the guilt drove him to act like his brother. I don’t think that’s how psychology works.”

Theory #4: Both brothers are still alive. Stanley, on the run from the mob, came to his brother Stanford for help. Meanwhile, Stanford was worried about someone or something that was out to get him. They came to a solution that would solve both their problems: switching places. They would fake Stanley’s death, throwing the mob off of Stanley’s trail. Then, Stanley would take Stanford’s place in the public eye, while Stanford went into hiding.

This theory is supported by photos that surfaced on Facebook in 2012. Several photos of Gravity Falls after a series of earthquakes did extensive damage to the town show what is supposed to be Stanford. However, another man that looks just like him is seen standing in the background. Interestingly enough, both mens’ hands are obscured in all of these photos. 

While the photos haven’t been analysed by any professionals to definitively determine if either of the men are Stanley Pines, it has been determined that the photos are not edited.

“Would the whole photo recognition software even work on identical twins?” Ryan wondered.

“I don’t think so?” Shane answered unsurely. “I mean, my Facebook facial recognition auto-tag doesn’t even recognize my mom half the time, so I wouldn’t be surprised if twins throw it off.”

“Just looking at some of these photos yourself, what do you think?” Ryan handed a few print-outs from his folder to Shane.

“Oh wow, yeah, they do look alike.” Shane nodded. “Alright, yeah, I’m convinced. We solved it, guys! Video over!”

“We actually do have one more theory.” Ryan informed him.

Theory #5: Stanford was abducted by aliens.

“Oh for f___’s sake--” Shane threw his hands up in frustration. “We have four perfectly good, plausible explanations, and you have to throw that in!”

“This one actually does have some evidence behind it.”

“Bull____, but go on.”

Stanford was a professional paranormal researcher. Although he was very secretive about his research, even to his grant committee, some of his research notes do list looking for proof of ancient aliens visiting the valley before European contact. Could it be the thing he was afraid of was aliens?

“... That’s it?” Shane asked. “When you said this one actually had some evidence behind it, I thought you meant there was a UFO sighting in the same area around the same time.”

“The negative space between the floating cliffs kinda looks like a UFO” Ryan pointed out.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean a random researcher in the 80’s was abducted by aliens! That’s like, if I found a ransom note for you in the office, but I said ‘Well, Ryan was afraid of bears. Bears used to live in California, there’s one on the state flag outside our building. He must have been eaten by a bear.’ That’s the kind of leap in logic we’re talking about!”

Was this a case of fratricide? Or is this the longest and most elaborate twin switch of all time? For now, this case remains… UNSOLVED.

 * * *

“It was really hard for me to stay on topic while I was researching this one.” Ryan admitted as they wrapped things up. “There is a lot of weird stuff related to Gravity Falls, we should go there for an episode one of these days.”

“I’d love to do that, it looks like a beautiful place to visit.” Shane agreed. “Are you sure you wanna do that though? It seems like the place is crawling with haunted cabins and bears.”

“Well, one could argue this entire series is about me conquering my fears, so… Why not?”

[kurowrites]

Five Times Lan Zhan (Kind Of) Proposed to Wei Ying

Find the earlier posts here. 

---

V: The Fifth Time (Or, A Complete Failure)

“Ooookay,” Wei Ying said, nonplussed, when Lan Zhan suddenly appeared in front of him and proceeded to curl up in Wei Ying’s lap determinedly.

Wei Ying naturally opened his arms and held onto Lan Zhan so that he wouldn’t fall off the sofa, but he was also a multitasker, so he could glare at the people surrounding him at the same time.

“So, who got Lan Zhan drunk this time?” he asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Wen Ning shifted nervously, but Wen Ning shifted nervously all the time, so that didn’t count. Wei Ying ignored him.

Mianmian, on the other hand, simply shrugged when Wei Ying trained his gaze on her.

“I think he confused the jello shots with dessert,” she said, far too nonchalantly for Wei Ying’s tastes.

“And you let him eat them?” he cried.

Mianmian rolled her eyes.

“I wasn’t watching what he was doing at all times. I’m not his custodian. That’s your job, really.”

“Oooh my god, Mianmian,” Wei Ying sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “I think I’m pretty close to getting murdered by Lan Huan in a dark alleyway or something. This can’t keep happening.”

“Maybe it would help if you had an actual conversation with your boytoy,” Mianmian suggested, looking like she didn’t really care either way. “I’ve got to say, things are getting pretty ridiculous by now. I saw what happened during Wen Qing’s birthday.”

“Excuse me?” Wei Ying cried. “Lan Zhan is not a boytoy!”

He ignored the part about Wen Qing’s birthday, because nothing had happened during Wen Qing’s birthday. No one had been there when Lan Zhan had promised him to get him a better bow than the one he’d already given him, so no one knew about that one. And know one knew that Wei Ying had kept that bow, even thought it had been a pain to get off.

Mianmian rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Boyfriend, husband, loverboy. Tell him to check in with you before he eats or drinks anything at parties.”

“He’s not a child, you know,” Wei Ying insisted, pouting. “He can take care of himself.”

Mianmian sent a distinctly judgemental look towards Lan Zhan, who was firmly snuggled into Wei Ying’s lap.

“I can see that.”

“Naysayers everywhere!” Wei Ying complained loudly and insistently, but if he were honest, he had already given up. Lan Zhan was clearly done for the night, and Wei Ying couldn’t keep sitting with him draped over his lap indefinitely.

He gently wriggled his legs to see what kind of reaction would come from Lan Zhan.

The response was a noise not unlike one a grouchy old cat would make. Clearly the noise of someone who didn’t want to be moved.

“Come on, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said, trying to sound encouraging. “I’m going to take you home, you’ll feel much better then. Your bed is missing you.”

Lan Zhan made another noise that communicated his displeasure, but he partly removed himself from Wei Ying’s lap and blinked up at Wei Ying with tired eyes.

“Aw, those shots did a number on you, huh,” Wei Ying cooed. “C’mon, let’s get you home before you fall asleep here. That sofa is too dirty for you to sleep on.”

Wei Ying managed to get Lan Zhan to get off him and the sofa, and Lan Zhan ended up following him out of the room with only little encouragement. To make his point, Wei Ying made sure to stick his tongue out at Mianmian as a parting shot.

“Go take care of your loverboy!” Mianmian shouted after him, but it was hardly audible through the music of the party, so Wei Ying elected to ignore it.

He breathed a sigh of relief once they were out the door and on their way to Lan Zhan’s dorm.

“Hey, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said, taking hold of Lan Zhan’s arm to steer him into the right direction. “I think you need to be a little more careful. Getting drunk at these parties is certainly not doing you any favours.”

In all honestly, Wei Ying didn’t believe that Lan Zhan was enjoying these parties very much. He didn’t enjoy noise, he didn’t enjoy the chaos and the crush of unfamiliar people, and on top of that he would wake up with a hangover and no memory every time. Lan Zhan had told him once that he went to these parties because Wei Ying was there, but that alone couldn’t make up for the fact that Lan Zhan didn’t enjoy a single bit of the evening.

In addition, Wei Ying would stay over at Lan Zhan’s every time Lan Zhan got drunk, and Lan Zhan would feel obliged to provide Wei Ying with breakfast after staying over because he was a good host.

Wei Ying did generally enjoy the breakfasts (there was absolutely nothing to complain about the combination of Lan Zhan and tasty food), but delicious food was not a good enough reason to keep this thing going. Not when it came with Lan Zhan getting drunk. Wei Ying needed to put an end to it, he knew that. Especially before Lan Huan got involved.

“Okay,” Wei Ying said to himself as he steered Lan Zhan through the door of his room and to his bed. “This is the last time I’m doing this. No more getting drunk at parties from now on, Lan Zhan. Your wild days are over.”

He poured Lan Zhan onto the bed, and Lan Zhan looked up at him with tired eyes and a distinct pout on his lips.

“Hey little bunny,” Wei Ying said with a teasing smile, and poked his cute little nose. (He had to take his chances when they presented themselves. Poking a fully conscious Lan Zhan was unfathomable.) “What do you have to be pouty about?”

“I am a burden to Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said morosely.

“Aw, noooo,” Wei Ying cooed, poking Lan Zhan again, this time in his cheek. “I’m just worrying because it’s not like you to get drunk so often. And as funny as it is to see you get all drunk and snuggly, I think I prefer sober Lan Zhan.”

Drunk Lan Zhan didn’t seem to be satisfied with that answer, his pout still prominent on his face.

“Sleep,” Wei Ying cajoled him. “And then tomorrow, as much as I don’t want to, we can talk about it once you’re actually sober.”

Lan Zhan tried to sit up, probably to protest, but Wei Ying had already put the cover over him and tucked him in, so he only ended up wriggling a little.

“I wanted to give Wei Ying a present,” he pouted (again).

“It’s not my birthday, I don’t need any presents,” Wei Ying assured him. “Also, you already gave me a present. The bow, you remember? I still have it. But if you really want to give me a present, you can give it to me tomorrow, okay?”

He was pretty sure that Lan Zhan would have forgotten all about any presents by tomorrow anyway, so it was a safe promise to make.

“Hn,” Lan Zhan agreed, and finally settled into his blankets.

“So obedient!” Wei Ying exclaimed, laughing. “Night night, Lan Zhan.”

“Good night, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan murmured. “Will show you tomorrow.”

Wei Ying smiled down at Lan Zhan, and watched him fall asleep.

How many repetitions of the same scene did this make now? Wei Ying bringing Lan Zhan to bed and watching over him as he fell asleep?

At least this time, Lan Zhan hadn’t suggested he was planning to marry Wei Ying in order to get frisky with him. What would it need anyway for Lan Zhan to get frisky with anyone? It was difficult to imagine something like that. Lan Zhan was always so stoic, it was hard imagining him madly in love with anyone.  

Wei Ying sat on the edge of the bed for a while, watching over Lan Zhan until he was sure that Lan Zhan was asleep. Then he snatched Lan Zhan’s little plush rabbit off the nightstand.

Wei Ying had given it to him as a joke, because it had reminded him of Lan Zhan for some reason, but Lan Zhan, far from throwing it away, seemed to treasure the little toy.

“Ah, little rabbit,” he sighed, squeezing the plushie gently. “What are we going to do about Lan Zhan? Your master is a bit of a wild child recently.”

The plush rabbit, predictably, only looked back at him with solemn black eyes.

“I’m a little worried about him,” Wei Ying confessed. “He seems to have a lot on his mind right now. And I’m just one lowly Wei Ying, I don’t really know what to do with him.”

Again, the plush rabbit was silent.

“I mean, he barely acknowledges that we’re friends, so I guess it’s not really my place to meddle.”

He laughed to himself.

“But Lan Zhan is so fun to meddle with, so I can’t help it.”

Wei Ying put the plush toy back and made himself a nest on the overly comfy light blue sofa in Lan Zhan’s dorm room (Lan Zhan had the money for a sofa in a dorm room, damn him). Before he wrapped himself in the blanket and fell asleep, he thought about Mianmian and the others who must still be at the party, but he felt zero impulse to return there. He could always go to another party, after all. And he was determined to talk to Lan Zhan tomorrow morning, as much as he didn’t want to have this discussion at all.

[homoose]

Through the Smoke

Request: could you do spencer x bau reader where they aren't dating yet but they both feel for each other? where both spencer and reader are very closed off people and the whole team knows that. but after one rough case on the flight back, they're both just exhausted mentally and physically and seek comfort in each other. then spend the night at reader's apartment and kiss for the first time there. sorry if this is specific but thank you (:

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst with a happy ending

Warnings/Includes: typical CM stuff, cults, kidnapping, violence, etc.

Word count: 8.1k

Music recs: Through the Fire by Jake Etheridge and Margot Todd; scared by Jeremy Zucker

a/n: anon, I have no idea if this is what you were looking for, but this is where it went. It’s a generous rewrite of 300, substituting the reader for Garcia. Also this blog operates with the understanding that the season 14 jeid arc does not exist lmao. JJ is firmly in the “I love you as a brother” camp and I will not be taking questions at this time. Also, this is a reminder that my requests are open! send me some fresh ideas, head cannons, rambles, whatever! 

———

“Metro PD and the Bureau have been made aware of the Believers and possible activity following their leader’s arrest,” Prentiss confirmed, looking out over the team mingling in the bullpen. “But taking Theo at his word—”

“We only arrested three. There’s probably more out there, but if they follow cult dynamics, they’ll break down on their own without the messiah,” Matt finished.

“Typical cults: you think it’s a cast of thousands when really it’s just four whackos sitting around in the dark,” Tara mused.

Prentiss smiled. “I think we deserve some decompression time, and Rossi’s kind enough to host.”

Rossi leaned over the railing and nodded. “And I have some top shelf wine picked just for the occasion.”

The team started gathering their belongings and heading towards the elevators. Y/N hesitated, looking toward the case file still sitting on her desk. Something about how this had all wrapped up just… didn’t sit right. Her nearly five years with the Critical Incident Response Group had given her an up close view of some of the most prolific cults in American history. She’d studied Jonestown, Waco, Ruby Ridge, Liberty Ranch; new cults emerged onto CIRG’s radar regularly. And there was something about The Believers that just didn’t add up.

Y/N began shuffling things around on her desk, trying to look busy. She caught Spencer and JJ out of the corner of her eye, talking quietly. They ended their conversation with a hug, lingering just a little longer than Y/N would have preferred. She shook her head to try to physically clear the thought from her brain. She knew that Spencer had been through a lifetime’s worth of trauma before she joined the team, and that JJ had been an integral support for him. Y/N was also aware that she had zero grounds to be concerned with any of Spencer’s relationships, romantic or otherwise.

“Y/N, you coming?” JJ asked, walking toward her desk. Spencer headed out of the bullpen and down the hall.

Y/N gave her a half-hearted smile. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a little bit. Just wanted to finish up a couple things here.”

“Well, don’t stay too late.” JJ pressed her lips together for a moment before adding, “Maybe you and Spence could drive together. He said he might not make it, but if he had some company...”

Y/N hoped her immediate flush wasn’t too obvious. After nearly a year in the unit, she finally felt like she had built some solid relationships with the team, and Spencer was no exception. She relished their card games on the jet, the laughs over too-sweet coffee, discussions about books and films and music. But she also adored the way his hair sometimes curled and fell into his eyes, his animated and rambling tangents, the way his hands traced over the tiny print of his books. Most of her adult life had been spent surrounded by men who would gather up her trust in their pitted hands and crush it on a whim. She’d kept her heart behind glass for a long while, but Spencer was slowly chipping away at the fragile panels. She was certain he had no idea that he was even holding the chisel; but just about everyone else seemed to have figured it out. JJ, with her hands clasped together and an eager smile, definitely had. Y/N smiled, too. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“So we’ll see you in a bit?” When Y/N nodded, JJ gave her a warm smile and headed out.

Turning back to the case file, Y/N pressed her fingers to her temple and looked over the documents. Some of the pieces fit together, but the whole case felt littered with gaps and holes. The tale that Theo had woven about The Believers seemed true enough— his parents were simply the suppliers of potential cult members. Although, she still couldn’t figure out the reason for the kidnapping and torture. There were much easier ways to recruit vulnerable people.

She flipped past the pages of written statements and read over the report from the warehouse raid. It was short— the take down of Merva was too easy. Why was he sitting alone in an empty warehouse with only two unarmed, sleeping followers as a defense? Where was the rest of the cult? Matt was correct that most cults fall apart without their leader; unless the loss of a leader was a possibility they’d already prepared for.

The burns on Quinn’s hands didn’t make sense, either. Why use the initiation ritual as a torture device? Shouldn’t that be saved for people who had accepted the invitation? And then there was the one coincidence that nagged at her the most: what were the chances that Theo just happened to be enrolled in Spencer's course? Why did Spencer seem to be at the center of the whole thing?

Y/N sighed as her phone lit up with a message from JJ. She realized she’d been poring over the file for twenty-five minutes, and she had to laugh. As the least experienced profiler on the team, what could she possibly see that the others hadn’t? She closed the case file and quickly packed up, grabbing her jacket and bag and making her way toward the elevator lobby. She paused at the glass doors, retrieving her phone and pulling up Spencer’s contact information. Her thumb hovered over the call button for a long moment before she huffed out a breath. If even JJ hadn’t been able to convince him to go, there was no way she’d be able to change his mind. Despite herself, she glanced down the hall, allowing herself one moment to imagine an alternate timeline where she asked him to come along with her— to Rossi’s, to the moon, anywhere.

With a sigh, Y/N pushed open the glass doors and saw Agent Meadows leading Quinn to the elevator. She pushed down the little red flag in the back of her mind. As she stepped onto the elevator, she smiled politely at the two agents.

“I knew you didn’t do it. I just knew,” Meadows said to Quinn. She turned to Y/N. “And I can’t tell you what a privilege it’s been working with the A-Team on this case.”

Something about the calm in her voice made Y/N uneasy. “Yeah, it’s— um. It’s a great team to be a part of.” Her phone lit up again, this time with a phone call from JJ. “Okay, okay,” she muttered under her breath. Y/N answered the call, half an ear still listening to Meadows speak to Quinn. “Hey, I’m just leaving now.”

“Are you still at the BAU?” JJ demanded, voice low.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. But I’m in the elevator,” Y/N answered.

“Listen, we’re pretty sure Quinn was converted,” JJ told her. Y/N’s heart dropped into her shoes. “I need you to make sure he doesn’t leave that building. We’re coming back now. Where’s Spence?”

Y/N took a breath to try to even out her voice before speaking again. “Mom, we already talked about this. I don’t know.”

JJ paused. “Is Quinn in the elevator with you?”

“Yep.” JJ spoke quietly to someone on the other end of the phone. Y/N watched as the elevator dinged to the floor of the parking garage. “I’m going to have to hang up, mom. I’m gonna lose you, but I’ll try to take care of it tonight, okay?”

“Y/N, we’re on our—” The call dropped as the elevator hit the basement level.

Y/N took a deep breath to steady her voice. “Ugh, lost her.” She glanced at Meadows and Quinn, forced a smile and shrugged. “Elevators, right?”

The elevator doors began to open and Y/N stepped out, surreptitiously reaching for her holster. She had just lifted the strap when she heard the crack of metal hitting bone. Her face hit the concrete before she realized it was her own skull that bore the impact. She watched as her gun skidded across the parking lot floor, the taste of iron flooding her mouth. “Fuck,” she muttered, wincing in pain and scrambling up off the ground as a gunshot went off.

She didn’t feel the impact of the bullet. She looked down at her body, expecting to see a blooming rose of blood. She stared dumbly for a second too long, before remembering that she needed to get to her gun. Her hand instinctively went to her nose as she stumbled forward, coming away wet with blood.

“Stop, Agent Y/L/N.”

She heard the sound of a gun cocking, and then another. She closed her eyes and ran through an internal stream of curses. Raising her hands up, she turned slowly around. An older white man stood to her left, his gun trained on her. Meadows walked slowly towards her, lowering her own weapon. Quinn leaned against the back of the elevator, clutching his abdomen and blood staining the front of his shirt.

“Surprise,” Meadows sang, a sick smile spreading across her face. She stopped in front of Y/N, sweeping her hand in the direction of the man. “Now, John’s going to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. Get in the car.”

Y/N glanced in the direction of the vehicle, a dark sedan, driver armed to the teeth as well. “The team knows something’s up. You won’t make it out of this garage alive.”

Meadows laughed, loud and unhinged. “Oh honey. They’re not looking for lil ol’ me. And they sure as hell won’t be looking for an ambulance.” Her smile returned. “Plus, I already erased 299 murders from the Bureau’s radar. What’s a couple more? Now, shut up... and get in the car.”

Y/N moved to the open car door, keeping her back as straight as possible and her chin up, refusing to show them any cowardice. The barrel of the gun jabbed her in the back as she lowered herself into the vehicle. The door slammed shut, and in a moment, the gun was back on her, the man sitting next to her in the backseat. Y/N waited for the car to pull out, still trying to make sense of it all. Meadows was a Believer? What did she mean by “erased” 299 murders? Why would she blow her cover to shoot Quinn? Did she think that he had figured her out? Or that Y/N had? If that was the case, why not just shoot her? Why wasn’t the car moving?

“Drop your gun, Agent Reid,” Meadows’ muffled voice penetrated the inside of the vehicle. Y/N’s heart began to race. John dug the gun further into her side.

“It’s been you the whole time,” Spencer deduced.

“Yes, it was. Quinn somehow figured it out first. Pity having to shoot him,” Meadows mocked. “But he can’t give me what I want. And you can.”

“What’s that?” Y/N’s brain scrambled to put the pieces together as she listened to the exchange. Spencer was at the heart of it after all. It was right there, she just couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Meadows continued, “You and I are going to go upstairs and free my Messiah.”

“You’re in the heart of the FBI. As soon as the rest of my team figures out it’s you, you’ll be dead before you’re out the door.” Y/N hoped to god that he was right.

“Then we need to work quickly.”

“I’m not going to cooperate with you,” Spencer told her. “Might as well shoot me.” Y/N didn’t even have time to panic before the car shifted into drive.

“I have a better idea.” On Meadows’ cue, the driver squealed out of the parking space and into Spencer’s line of sight. His eyes fell on Y/N, hands nearly pressed against the window, John’s gun pointed at her head. “Now, what’s it gonna be? Because you can either join us, or she dies.”

Y/N tried to radiate her rage through her eyes and screamed, “Reid, just shoot her! Shoot her!” The last thing she saw before the second crack of steel against her skull was the hesitation in Spencer’s eyes.

⧭⧭⧭

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open and she groaned at the pounding of her head, the rhythm of her heartbeat throbbing in the space behind her ears. She tried to lift her hand to check for blood, only to strain against the hold of a zip tie attached to the base of the chair. Instead, she surveyed the room around her. A warehouse, lots of shipping containers, and even more men— this time armed with assault rifles and machine guns. One stood at the entrance point of the small area she was being kept in.

She worked through her memory, putting the pieces together. Meadows was a Believer, had been for quite some time to pull all of this off. Quinn wasn’t special, he just got in the way of her real target. Ben Merva might have been the messiah, but Spencer Reid was clearly just as important to whatever mission they were carrying out. Every twisting thread of information somehow traced back to him: Theo in his class, Quinn’s attachment to him, Meadows’ demand that he be the one to free Merva.

“Good, you’re awake.” Meadows strode through the space with a laptop in hand. “I need your handiwork.”

Y/N stared at her. “Is that so?’

Meadows set the laptop on the barrel in front of Y/N and then leaned down to cut the zip tie. “Besides being my collateral for the good doctor, you’re also going to help me access CIRG’s surveillance data.”

“Fuck you.” Y/N spat on Meadows’ shoes. “I’m doing nothing for you.” Her head rolled back, eyes piercing daggers into Meadows. “You should just kill me now, because this is a waste of your time. And I’m sure you know the A-Team isn’t going to waste theirs.”

Meadows narrowed her eyes and gave a theatrical sigh. “I should’ve known you’d make this difficult.” She nodded to John, standing at the entranceway.

Y/N spat again, this time to rid her mouth of the taste of blood. She steeled herself for the next onslaught, compartmentalizing every emotion outside of her fury. Her mind raced to salvage and scrutinize the memories from her time in CIRG, trying desperately to identify what Meadows could be looking for in the surveillance reports. The Believers hadn’t even been on the Bureau’s radar. The reason had to be linked to their interest in Spencer… a piece of information that involved both Spencer Reid and the existing surveillance data. A single grain that could bring the whole damn bushel down.

She heard a scuffle at the entrance of the room and raised her head. Her heart jumped into her throat at the sight of Spencer, bloodied and bruised. John dragged him into the room, throwing him down onto his knees in front of Y/N. His eyes tracked over her face and clouded over with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

“Shit, Reid—”

“I’m fine—I’m sure it looks worse than it is,” he murmured. The concern in his eyes told Y/N she looked about as bad as she felt. “Are you all right?”

“I should’ve seen it. I should’ve known—”

“No,” Spencer interrupted. “This isn’t your fault. We all missed it.”

“What’s the end game here?” Y/N asked. “What’re they doing?”

“I’m going to be their last victim.” Spencer shook his head, barely able to keep himself upright. “I don’t know why, but I overheard them. There have been hundreds.”

Meadows stepped up behind Spencer, grinning at Y/N. “Have you changed your mind? I sure hope you have.” She raised her gun to his head. “Because if you don’t do what I want, I’ll blow his big, beautiful brains out.”

Spencer locked eyes with Y/N. She held his gaze for a moment, then tilted her head slightly as the gears started turning. The tie between Spencer and Benjamin was where it all unraveled. “No, I don’t think you will.”

Meadows’ grin faltered for less than a second, but it was long enough that Y/N knew she was right. “Is that right?” Meadows questioned.

“Yeah, it is.” She furrowed her brow, and Spencer looked at her. “You need him, don’t you? Alive.” Meadows’ tongue darted out to wet her lips, and Y/N was sure. “Because this isn’t just about Benjamin Merva. It’s about Benjamin Cyrus. It’s about Liberty Ranch.”

Meadows held her gaze for five seconds, then ten seconds. Y/N raised her chin, refusing to be the one to blink first. Meadows shifted the trajectory of her gun a foot to her right and fired off one shot. The breeze from the bullet shifted Y/N’s hair.

“You have two minutes to decide,” Meadows advised. The phone in her hand began ringing. “The next one won’t miss.” She answered the phone and stepped out.

Spencer spoke quickly. “Do whatever she’s asking. We have to get you out of here.”

“Reid, are your eyes broken?” Y/N snapped. “There’s a cult loyalist with a machine gun every five feet. You got a plan for that?”

“Listen to me.” His voice was calm, determined. “You’re right about them wanting me alive.”

The frustration bled through Y/N’s voice. “You should have just shot her.”

He shook his head. “I couldn’t do that.”

“You could’ve shot all three of them and ended this in the garage,” Y/N argued.

“And then I would have watched you die,” he said quietly. “That was never even an option.”

“I’m failing to see how that would have been any worse than this. Look at us.” She gestured wildly between them. She watched as the storm of emotion returned, a cyclone swirling in seas of gold and brown. “The team needs you. Spencer, I—” I need you. She reached a hand up, almost touching his face before dropping it back in her lap. He had found the chink in her carefully constructed armor; a fissure he’d fractured a little further with every smile, every look, every moment. All at once she knew she’d never be able to keep him out, no matter how much it might hurt.

“You’ve got one minute,” Meadows barked, hovering over them.

“Y/L/N, listen to me… Please...” Spencer’s voice was thick with tears. “Tell my mom—” The phone rang again, and Meadows stepped away to answer it. Spencer dropped to a whisper. His eyes flashed with urgency. “They’re taking me and Theo. We’ll distract them. The car we were in is right outside the door. We’re 18 minutes from Quantico. Turn left outside the parking lot, take a right at the light, you’ll recognize the rest. They stay off the highways.”

Y/N’s voice was frantic when she asked, “What about you?”

His eyes pleaded with her to respect what he was asking her to do. “I’ll delay them. Get the rest of the team back here. And do not worry about me.” John hauled up him off the floor.

“Time’s up.” Meadows, in a rare display of mercy, allowed them a hug.

Spencer leaned into her and Y/N wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She squeezed as hard as she could and whispered his name. She felt him take a deep breath into her hair, holding it for one impossibly long moment. Just before she released her hold on him, he mumbled, “It’s all happening. 10:23.” John dragged him back out the way they’d came.

“I gave you what you wanted.” Meadows ordered, “Get to it. Now.”

⧭⧭⧭

Y/N worked and waited, then watched and worried. Spencer spoke to Meadows. He was stalling her, offering a deal, boosting her ego, granting Y/N the opportunity to mentally prepare. But no matter how much time he gave her, she would never be prepared to leave him in that warehouse. He met her eyes across the movements of the operation and gave her an imperceptible nod before lunging forward to reach for John’s gun.

Chaos exploded throughout the warehouse. Theo ran in one direction, accosted by half a dozen Believers. Spencer and John tussled over the gun, one fighting for control and the other fighting the inevitable. Y/N sprinted, largely unnoticed, toward the huge sliding doors left slightly ajar. Bursting out into the night air, she immediately spotted one of the black sedans, unbelievably unlocked and with the keys in the ignition. She slammed the door behind her, turned the key, hesitated with her eyes on the door and her mind on Spencer for one moment too long. A single gunshot sounded from inside the warehouse.

Meadows raced out of the doorway, gun drawn. “Stop!” She pointed her gun at Y/N and there was nothing to do but step on the gas. Y/N had her eyes wide open as Meadows bounced off the windshield and onto the asphalt. She didn’t look back.

She drove. Left out of the parking lot. Just a dark, rural road—nothing particularly special or descript. She drove. Right at the stoplight. Then it was, just as Spencer said, familiar terrain. She wondered how it was possible to have seemed so far away— a world away— when it was right under their proverbial nose. She drove.

Her brain navigated of its own volition. Her mind couldn’t have been farther from the inside of the vehicle. She didn’t realize she’d arrived at the Bureau until she was attempting to pull into her usual parking spot, only to be met with her own abandoned car.

She turned the car off, left the keys in the ignition, and nearly floated out into the garage; up the elevator; across the cold floors of the lobby. Her body had walked this same path so many times before; it carried her without hesitation. She could hear the voices of the team, drifting through the open glass doors.

“She accepted their help knowing she would betray the government,” Tara deduced.

“Not every survivor wanted help,” JJ clarified.

Rossi continued, “We ran those who left the ranch and kept their names. A few relocated in rural Maryland and Virginia.”

“They could be helping now,” Luke suggested. “Any of them have large pieces of property?”

“A few,” Emily confirmed. Y/N turned the corner as she continued, “The Washington field office has started searches in Maryland. We’ll take the lead in Virginia.”

As she moved into the doorway, JJ’s eyes went wide and she rushed to Y/N’s side. “Oh my god, are you hurt?” She gently grabbed Y/N by the shoulders.

“It’s a warehouse in Hillcrest,” Y/N said flatly, eyes unfocused. “I can take you there, but we have to hurry. They hurt Reid; he looked— bad. He told me to r-run and take the car, but he’s still there.” Everyone headed for the doors except JJ and Garcia. “They won’t be there long, they have lots of trucks.” Y/N’s eyes locked on JJ, and for the first time since the whole ordeal started, she allowed herself to splinter, just a little. “I heard a gunshot. JJ, I heard a gunshot. I tried—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” JJ nodded, drawing her into a hug. “I know. I know you tr—”

“I left him there.” Her voice broke, but she couldn’t cry. Not yet. “I couldn’t get him. There was no way to save hi—”

“Stop,” JJ ordered, pulling out of the hug. “Y/N, look at me. You got out, you got back to us. If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t even know about the warehouse.”

“What if— what if I got him killed?” Y/N asked.

“You didn’t get anyone killed. Spence knew what he was doing.” JJ’s voice softened. “That’s what he does. He always figures things out before the rest of us. He has a plan and getting you back to Quantico was part of it.” She raised her eyebrows, making sure Y/N was listening. “And now we have to help him by putting the rest of it together.”

Y/N ran a hand over her face. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”

Garcia stepped forward and laid a hand on her arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Then we’ll get Reid back.”

They cleaned the blood from her face and hair as best they could in the bathroom sink. JJ patched up the lacerations with steri-strips. Back in the conference room, Garcia insisted she should get screened for a concussion as Y/N rubbed the knot on the back of her head. “There’s no time. Reid said, ‘It’s all happening. 10:23.’”

“But it’s past that,” JJ considered.

“So what did he mean?” Garcia asked.

“Could be a clue here.” Rossi's voice came over the speakerphone from inside the warehouse. “They got sloppy since they left in a hurry.”

“Okay, well you can’t be that far behind them,” JJ insisted.

“I know,” Emily agreed. “But there’s easy access to three major highways, and we don’t know which way they went.”

“Right, but they’re in tractor trailers. That means we can track them through weigh stations.”

“Garcia?” Emily prompted.

“In order to do that, I’d need the transponder identification numbers,” Garcia answered.

“Which we have no way of knowing,” Rossi sighed. “Everything they used was almost definitely forged.”

“We’re going to do another sweep here, and then we’ll head back,” Emily said. “Try to map out the most likely routes they’d use to get out of dodge.”

JJ hung up and looked to Y/N. “What do you remember about the warehouse?”

Y/N pressed her fingers into her temples. “It was full of supplies. They were disguising them, but they had stockpiles of weapons and ammunition; non-perishables and other food items; water. Enough to be off the grid for at least a year.” Y/N leaned back in her chair. “But it wasn’t just about The Believers. I mean, we know they’re a reincarnation of the Separatarian Sect.” She looked at JJ and Garcia. “It was more than that, though. Reid was at the center of everything; he was the target all along. Merva is the messiah, but it somehow all comes back to Spence.”

“Makes sense. They blame him for the downfall of the Sect,” JJ supplied.

“Yeah.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “But—and I can’t—I can’t really explain it, but Meadows really wanted to kill Reid right then. She was— she was irritated, more than anything else.”

“So what stopped her?” Garcia asked.

“That’s what I can’t figure out. She threatened me with it, with ‘blowing his brains out,’ but I— called her bluff. And she was pissed.” Y/N rapped her knuckles on the table. “I mean, really, really furious. Which tells me that, even though she wanted to,  she couldn’t kill him.” She looked between the two of them. “Merva was pulling the strings, and he wouldn’t let her do it there.”

“So it matters where the final sacrifice takes place,” JJ concluded. “We’ve got to figure out where they’re going.”

⧭⧭⧭

They’d been rehashing the details over and over. Liberty Ranch, The Strangler investigation, The Believers, Meadows, Merva, Cyrus, 300 victims, the hyoid bones, all of it. About the only thing they knew for sure was how far the cult could get in the trucks. Spencer could have told them the exact square mileage, but the potential geographical range of the trucks was dauntingly large. Y/N tried not to panic as she stared at the map.

“If this is about a Believer's rebirth, babies are born with 300 bones,” JJ said. “And they’re taking the hyoids.”

“And the hyoids we had in evidence are missing, which means Merva needed them back,” Tara reasoned. “And that means they mean more to the end game than we thought.”

Y/N felt her patience waning. “But why did Reid need us to know it all happens at 10:23?” Y/N hated that her voice sounded snappy and desperate. “That’s got to be important. It’s the last thing he said to me.”

Matt put his hand on her shoulder. “Listen, you’re right. It means something to him. We’re trying to figure it out.”

“Yeah, well, we better figure it out soon.” Y/N shrugged off his hand, pushed back from her seat at the conference room table, and turned for the door. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Every minute they spent floating ideas was another mile between them and Spencer. Another moment closer to losing him. She shoved the bathroom door open, hurrying into the stall and emptying the contents of her stomach.

She slumped back against the side of the stall, head gently knocking into the cool metal. She needed to pull herself together. The team was always strongest when they did their group think sessions, building upon each other’s knowledge and perspectives and filling in the gaps. If they’d done more of that earlier— if she’d had the confidence to call it out as soon as she saw the holes, Spencer might not be locked in the back of a truck, hundreds of miles away.

Y/N hoisted herself off the ground and out of the stall. She braced her hands on the counter top and tried to breathe evenly. She turned on the water and splashed her face, tapping against her cheeks. With water dripping down the planes of her face, she stared herself down in the mirror, willing her tired brain to make that last connection, to find that missing thread. It was all about the Benjamins, and she had a feeling that Cyrus was the key.

Y/N rolled her shoulders back and made her way to the conference room. She listened to their rotating conversation, knowing that this team was the only group of people capable of getting Spencer back alive.

“We have confirmation that there’s been no activity in or around the old ranch,” Matt informed them, pocketing his phone.

“If this is about rebirth, they’ll choose a new place,” Luke posited, arms crossed.

Tara leaned over the table. “Given their adoration of Cyrus and his love for the country, he’d want them to stay within our borders.”

“But Benjamin Cyrus wasn’t his real name, and he wasn’t born into the Sect,” Y/N reminded them quietly. Everyone turned to look at her. She gave an apology grimace to Matt. He just shrugged and smiled, motioning her over to the table.

Garcia nodded. “Right, let’s see. Uh, he and his mom arrived there when he was a teenager. He was kicked out for molesting girls. And then he served time in prison in Kentucky.”

“And that’s where he found religion,” Y/N recalled, thinking back to the report she’d studied dozens of times. “So he was reborn as Benjamin Cyrus in Kentucky.” She closed her eyes and flipped through her mental file cabinet, looking for 10:23.

“That’s within the area,” Garcia confirmed. “Maybe that’s where they’re headed?”

“Find out what city he was born in or where he was in prison,” Luke said. “We’ll spread out from there.”

“He found religion,” Y/N repeated, mostly to herself. “Chapter ten, verse twenty-three. 10:23 isn’t a time.” Y/N shook her head and then dragged her hand through her hair. “It’s scripture.”

“Let’s get in the air; we can narrow down which verse and city before we land,” Emily instructed.

⧭⧭⧭

“We’re approaching Kentucky; the pilot needs to know where to touch down,” Rossi informed them.

The team was scattered throughout the jet, scrolling through scripture on their tablets, reading out verses. Y/N held her chin in her hand, eyes unfocused, dragging a net along the furthest corners of her mind.

“Hey guys, listen to this,” JJ said. “Matthew chapter ten, verse twenty-three: ‘When you are persecuted in one place, flee to another.’”

“They’re going to the next town,” Emily said.

“Flee to the next town. But which one?” asked Garcia.

“Their end game is also a new beginning,” Rossi explained. “Cyrus brought religion back to the cult. They’d honor that by wanting to start fresh.”

Y/N raised her head. “Like the Garden of Eden.”

“That’s how 300 fits,” Tara concluded. “That was the number of angels that protected the Garden of Eden. Are there any Edens in Kentucky?”

The sound of Garcia tapping across the keyboard came through the laptop. “Um, no, but there are two synonyms: Canaan and Arcadia.”

“Cyrus is the original messiah. Which one is closer to where he was born?” Y/N asked.

“Arcadia,” Garcia informed them.

Y/N stood up. “That’s where they’re going.”

“Garcia, pull land deeds. I’ll notify SWAT,” Emily instructed.

JJ grabbed Y/N’s hand. “We’re going to get him.”

Y/N met her eyes. “I just hope we’re not too late.”

⧭⧭⧭

The new compound proved easy to find. In the middle of nowhere but illuminated by hundreds of lights, there were rows and rows of tents. The team began strategizing, looking for the best route to Spencer.

Emily tried to convince Y/N, now showing clear concussion symptoms, to stay with the SUVs.

“With all due respect, there is no way in hell that I’m going to sit in this car while Reid gets sacrificed by a homicidal cult leader,” Y/N said. There was a hushed pause, the team exchanging knowing glances.

“Fair enough,” Emily conceded. “Matt and JJ, I want you on the left side. Luke and Tara, the right. Dave and Y/N, you’re with me. We’re clearing every tent; eliminate any threat that would give away your position.” She unholstered her gun and swept her eyes across the team. “Our objective is to extract Reid with minimal loss.”

As they approached the first line of tents, Y/N could faintly hear Spencer speaking. “To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.” Her heart hammered against her ribcage. “A time to be born and a time to die.” She could feel the blood rushing through her ears. “A time to weep and a time to pluck up that which has been planted.”

“Okay, he’s stalling,” Meadows snapped. “That’s enough!”

“All right. Let the sacrifice begin.” That was Merva now, riling up the followers. “Protect us from all harm.”

As Merva led The Believers in a monotone chant, Y/N tried to block it out. She scanned a tent, watched as SWAT took out a bodyguard, looked for Spencer. Rinse and repeat, again and again. It was taking too long.

“And we thank Our Guardian, who will protect this family now and always,” Merva’s voice rang out. “Spencer: keeper of provisions!” Y/N saw the gathering of followers, but she couldn’t see Spencer.

The SWAT commander stopped them. They had reached the final line of tents. He signaled to the leaders on each side. They were ready to strike.

Y/N’s eyes scanned the crowd. She could just barely make out some sort of hanging mobile, white u-shaped decorations suspended from string. The hyoids, she realized, a wave of nausea hitting her like a truck.

Merva continued, “You have given selflessly to others and will be rewarded by the highest honor we could bestow. Your blood will be our blood. Your life will fuel ours.”

A gunshot rang out. The followers gasped. There was a split second of calm before the bedlam. Y/N took a single breath. Then she heard Matt yell; saw John lift his rifle and be felled by a solo shot to the head; watched Luke take down another bodyguard directly after.

And then she saw him. Strapped down under a canopy of bones, Spencer was silent and unmoving. He didn’t struggle. He didn’t call out. And there was Merva, knife in hand— still trying to complete his mission.

She didn’t vacillate, barely breathed, just let her legs carry her forward. She heard Emily call out his name. When Merva turned, the curved blade of the knife poised at the column of Spencer's throat, Y/N’s trigger finger compressed. She felt the gun recoil, felt the force of the shot travel up her arm as she put a single bullet in his chest. As he fell, she didn’t stop, just stepped over him, knew one of the others would take care of it.

She tripped over the small platform Spencer was restrained on, stumbling and holstering her gun. Her hands moved over the straps, loosening the one over his waist, then the ones at his hands, finally pushing the leather from his head. He panted and muttered his thanks, but she didn’t dare speak, afraid that if she did, she’d never be able to stop. Instead, she flung her arms over his shoulders, pulling him down and close and over her heart. She wondered if he could feel the way it pummeled against her chest, because to her it felt like it might smash through at any moment. His arms came around her, chin resting on her shoulder, nose in her hair. She heard him inhale and hold his breath, a mirror of that last moment together in the warehouse. She held onto him as an overboard sailor holds a life ring: single-minded, unrelenting, desperate.

There was a touch on her opposite shoulder and Y/N swung around, adrenaline still racing through her veins. JJ put her hand out in a placating motion, and Y/N came back to herself, allowing JJ to step forward and help Spencer off the platform. Y/N let out a breath and reached a hand out to steady herself, only to flinch when it brushed one of the straps that had held Spencer down. Luke caught her on one side, Tara on the other. She grasped at them, her emotions teetering right along with her physical form. Luke pulled her out from under the macabre canopy and into a hug. Tara held her hand. For the first time since the parking garage, she let herself go.

⧭⧭⧭

The jet was quiet. The team was spread out around the cabin, each of them lost in their own heads. There was a tranquility over the space, one that only ever happened when unmitigated relief overwhelmed even the joy or fulfillment of a life saved.

Y/N sat in one of the single seats, across the aisle from where Spencer was settled. Tara and Luke had finally convinced her to get checked out by the EMTs, who had confirmed her concussion. She convinced herself that the fuzziness on the corners of her vision was just a symptom of that, not a product of the tears she was struggling to hold back.  

The team each stopped by Spencer’s seat, patting his shoulder, squeezing his hand, or in Rossi’s case, gently ruffling his hair. They all spoke briefly in hushed, grateful tones. All except Y/N. She couldn’t formulate a sentence that seemed adequate. There was simultaneously too much and nothing to say. Everything felt contrived or insufficient or intemperate.

Spencer was safe. They hadn’t been too late. He was bruised and undoubtedly sore, but ultimately, he’d been through worse. So why was her heart still aching? Why couldn’t she catch her breath? She hadn’t spoken more than a few words since leaving the raid, so why did her throat feel like it was on fire? She closed her eyes, leaned her head back. She incessantly pressed her hands together, trying to crack her sore knuckles over and over again.

A pair of hands gently closed over her own, stopping the abuse, and she didn’t have to open her eyes to know who they belonged to. His thumbs stroked over the backs of her hands and she cursed the tears that spilled over her bottom lashes. He didn’t say anything, didn’t force her to look at him or acknowledge her shattering. He waited her out, rubbing a rhythm on her skin and steadying her without a word. She opened her eyes but couldn’t bring herself to look at him just yet. Instead she focused on their joined hands, reciprocating the gentle pulses he gave every so often.

She turned her head to wipe her wet cheeks on her shoulder as the landing announcement came over the cabin speaker. She did look at him then, and the emotion in his gaze left her feeling raw and exposed. Their hands reluctantly separated to buckle their seat belts. Y/N closed her eyes again, turning her face into the warmth of the early morning sun as the jet began its descent.

When they landed, everyone wearily shuffled off the plane, eager to get home to their beds. Penelope met them at the elevator, enveloping Spencer in a long hug, the rest of the team smiling at their embrace. They each moved through the bullpen, gathering their things and talking quietly. Y/N’s eyes paused on her bag, brought up from the parking garage by one of the team after she’d gone missing. They lingered for a long moment on the case file, still sitting where she’d left it hours ago, before she let herself let it go. She grabbed her bag and turned to see Spencer standing in the aisle, hands in his pockets and eyes fixed on her.

“Hey,” she said dumbly.

He smiled. “Hi.”

Her hands wrung the straps of her bag. “How—how’re you holding up?”

“I’ve been worse.” He shrugged. “How’s your head?”

“I’ve been worse,” she agreed.

“That’s good. Because I think after all that, the least you could do is give me a ride home,” he joked.

Y/N knew he was trying to reassure her that he was fine, but she couldn’t bring herself to laugh. If anything, his attempts to provide comfort made her feel worse. Because she couldn’t forget the sound of the gunshot at the warehouse, the sight of the knife at his throat, the feeling of nearly losing someone whom she knew she could love if she just had more time. Too exhausted to hide her emotions, she could tell by the change in Spencer’s eyes that the pain was apparent on her face.

“Actually, you probably shouldn’t be driving, even if it’s just a mild concussion. Where are your keys?”

“It’s fine. I’m all ri—” Y/N started.

“I know I phrased that as a question, but I’m not really asking.” He held out his hand.

Normally she would have argued, but she just didn’t have the energy. Y/N dug into her bag, fishing out the keys and dropping them into his hand. He closed his fingers around them and jerked his head toward the door. “Come on,” he murmured. He waved to the rest of the team, and Y/N nodded, avoiding their eyes.

The ride in the elevator was silent. The walk to the car, too. They were pulling out of the garage before Spencer finally broke the silence.

“You know this wasn’t your fault, right?” he asked. Y/N stayed quiet. “We all missed the connection to Liberty Ranch.”

“But I knew something was off, and I didn’t say anything. I— I almost came to find you before I left, and if I had just done that—”

“Y/N,” Spencer interrupted. “The plan was already in motion. Meadows and Merva would have just figured out another way to execute it.” His fingers tightened on the wheel. “And without you and the leads from the warehouse, the team might not have figured it out in time.”

Y/N opened her mouth before realizing she didn’t have a response. She didn’t even want to consider that possibility. She leaned her head against the window, pressing the thumb and fingers of one hand into her eyes to stave off the throbbing.

Graciously, Spencer let her remain in silence the rest of the ride to her apartment. There was so much to say, especially now; she didn’t know where to begin. And even after everything, she couldn’t stop herself from bringing up that wall— protecting herself from what she knew could hurt her more than any unsub.

They pulled onto her street, fairly empty at such an early hour. Spencer parked in front of her apartment, opening the car door and coming around the other side of the car. She expected him to give her the keys, but as she exited the car, he waited by the gate for her. “I’ll walk you up.”

Spencer opened the gate, allowing her to walk through before closing it behind them and following her up the sidewalk. “I need the keys,” she told him.

He shook his head as if to clear it. “Right, right.” He placed them into her outstretched hand, and she wondered if she imagined his fingers lingering over hers.

When they reached her door, she unlocked the deadbolt and swung the door open, stepping over the threshold. He waited outside, hands in his pockets. Y/N rolled her keys in her hand, and Spencer watched them.

“Um— thank you for—” Y/N started.

“I told Emily on the jet, and I’ll tell you now.” Spencer raised his eyes to meet hers. There was that look again, the one she couldn’t quite identify. “I’ve always had a hard time saying what I feel. And maybe sometimes it’s because I’m afraid of being disappointed. But sometimes it’s because the words I’m looking for don’t exist in the English language.”

“Spence—”

“Please just let me get this out,” he said. “There have been a couple moments over the past few months where I thought maybe we were sharing mamihlapinatapei.”

“Mamih what?” Y/N asked.

“Mamihlapinatapei.” He repeated, gesturing with his hands. “It’s a Yagan word that originates on the Tierra del Fuego archipelago off the southern tip of Argentina. It translates succinctly as ‘the wordless, meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something, but are both reluctant to do so.’”

“Oh.” Y/N felt a flush rising up in her cheeks.

Suddenly, Spencer couldn’t meet her eyes. “I, um—I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize our friendship or make things awkward at work. But last night, I… I just— I’ve had too many moments in my life where I thought it might be my last, and I hadn’t said all the things I needed to say.” He met her eyes again, and there was that familiar storm. “Last night I was out of time, and I hadn’t told you how I feel, and I realized that I wouldn’t get another chance, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but I needed to—”

Y/N stepped forward, grabbed the front of his shirt, and crashed their mouths together. She tried to pour everything into the kiss: every blush, every worry, every laugh, every panicked moment, every mamihlapinatapei. Spencer cradled her face in his hands, opening his mouth and capturing her bottom lip, accepting everything she gave him. She wound one of her hands into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer and grounding herself to this new reality that almost wasn’t. The height of the kiss tapered off, and Y/N drew back, untangling her fingers from his hair and her heart from his grasp. Spencer watched her carefully, honey eyes uncertain.

“I do. Feel the same,” Y/N confirmed. Spencer’s lips twitched. “I’m not good at vulnerability. I’ve got a great track record of getting hurt.” Spencer grabbed her hand and opened his mouth, but Y/N continued, “But then I thought we might lose you, that time was out, and that I— I wouldn’t get the chance to see if you could be— if this could be more.” She gestured between them and then met his eyes again. “And I guess being vulnerable isn’t so bad in comparison. Because I think I could fall in love with you. I think maybe it’s already happening.” She held her breath and pressed her lips together, fighting the regret of saying too much.  

“Actually, there’s a word for that, too.” Spencer smiled, warm and soft and genuine. “Forelsket. The origin is Norwegian, and it roughly translates to ‘the euphoria experienced as you begin to fall in love.’”

“Forelsket?” Y/N asked.

“Well, it’s more like forelsket,” Spencer corrected.

“Wow, okay, 187.” Y/N laughed for the first time in what felt like days. “Forelsket.”

“Better,” Spencer praised. “There’s also the Tagalog version, kilig.”

Y/N took a step closer to him and smoothed his shirt where her hands had wrinkled it. “Translation?”

“‘The sudden feeling of an inexplicable joy one gets when something romantic happens,’ or alternatively ‘the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.’” Spencer moved his hand to her waist and stepped over the threshold.

Y/N cupped his cheek in her hand, soothing the bruises and guiding him back to her. “Yeah. Sounds about right.”

[marbleheavy]

more married solangelo because i love it 👉👈

(ft love languages):

- quick but very important note that i forgot to add in the last one: at their wedding, their first dance is to songbird by fleetwood mac and i will die by that

- (will starts crying i m m e d i a t e l y at the first verse)

- anywhoosies

- will’s love language is physical touch and nico’s is acts of service (but also words of affirmation)

- so pda is a weird limbo because will wants to hold nico’s hand and wrap his arm around his waist and kiss his cheek but nico isn’t super comfy with that

- at home or in private, affection is bountiful and constant

- but out in public? nico is hesitant and will respects that, even if he’s itching to intertwine their fingers

- will doesn’t have any of the same insecurities about it as he did when they first started dating (like was nico was ashamed of him? did he not actually like will?) because they were married, nico is clearly in it for the long haul

- so he reconciles his own desire for touch with the fact that nico just doesn’t always like it and that’s okay

- but every time they meet someone new or anything, nico always, always introduces will as his husband and that makes his heart explode

- that’s just how nico shows his affection and if will gets to hear the way nico’s voice goes all soft and warm when he says “this is will, my husband”, then that’s (really, really) good too

- nico is shorter than will (and quick tangent, i firmly believe that will is the one with the abnormal height. nico is like 5’9” or 5’10” which is average but will had a freaky growth spurt at seventeen when he thought he was done growing and now he is a giant, like at least 6’4”)

- (another tangent about the height thing, will and nico thought it was fucking hilarious when percy and jason got all huffy because will was taller than them)

- anyways nico obviously takes will’s clothes and he had to roll sweatpants like a million times to get them to fit and t-shirt collars expose his collar bones and will just melts

- also nico cooks dinner and will does the dishes, that’s just canon i’m sorry

- but sometimes will really does try to make dinner or breakfast in bed for nico even if he isn’t all that great at cooking

- and if the eggs end up over cooked and the toast is burnt, it’s all okay because the way that nico looks at him, sleepy and in awe with messy hair and parted lips, makes him try again and again

- (*cough* acts of service *cough*)

- will also praises nico all the time and for literally everything, plus he is just a fountain of pet names

- excerpts from will’s daily rhetoric: “darling, i love you”, “i’ll see you later, love”, “sweetheart, you’re the most perfect thing to ever exist and i adore you” (said after nico packed him a lunch literally one time and nico got so flustered he had to sit down)

- one time will called nico his “hubby” and nico shoved him so hard

- nico’s favorite terms of affection are as follows: darling, love, (those are tied for top two), sweetheart, and angel (cliche but appreciated)

- some honorable mentions that were probably only said once and met with a scowl/shove: romeo, schnookums, sugar ass, dumpling, baby doll, hot stuff, and heartthrob

- when they tell people they’re married most people immediately are like “wow you guys look so young haha, i thought you were like nineteen”

- and they’re just like “yes. we are.”

- and when they go to college (tbh i don’t think they’d go to new rome but now is not the time to elaborate on that) it’s also a little weird cause they’re college students and they are trying to have a normal college experience and make friends and all that jazz but they’re also married and have been through two wars so the disparity in maturity level is a bit of an issue

- they go to a party and get drunk and just end up making out in the corner (alcohol lowers nico’s inhibitions and will is just so easy to kiss) but not before will manages to drag nico around to meet every single person and says “have you seen him? he’s so pretty! he’s my husband you know, we got married. it was in a church and everything and look i have a ring” and nico just laughs the entire time

- also they have date nights every thursday

- they do stuff on other nights and the weekends too but thursdays are for Dates, like candles and flowers and ~romancing~

- they have an unspoken alternation for who’s turn it is to woo the other, with bouquets and reservations and holding the door open, the whole nine yards

- but sometimes they just cuddle and watch movies and feed each other popcorn

- movie night cuddle position: will on his back, legs propped up on the arm of the couch because he’s too long, nico is situated on top of him and between his legs, his head on will’s chest and tucked beneath his chin, the popcorn is on the popcorn table in front of them and will reaches out and feeds them both the popcorn

- will feeding nico popcorn is such a little thing but it makes nico feel like his heart is going to burst from his chest (*cough* ACTS OF SERVICE *cough*) and it’s also the way that with his other hand, his fingers brush just below his shirt and against the skin of his hip, and nico is so gone

- movie date nights are nico’s favorite

- they’re so gooey and soft it’s nauseating

- one time they hosted a movie night with all their friends (the seven, reyna, cecil and lou ellen, probs kayla, austin, and mitchell) and leo spent the entire time pretending to gag because they immediately went to Movie Cuddle Position™️ but nico just glared at him and refused to move even if he was kinda flustered by being so affectionate in front of others

- nico and will make other people question love, sorry not sorry

once again, this ended up super long lol, sorry! i will also be doing more of these because married solangelo has my entire heart.