#i don't think i'm at the Final final map but i can feel i'm close. enough to make me so scareds LMFAO

[moe-broey]

HUGE difference between "I never finished Three Houses" (🏘️ wait hold on. Wh. Why is there a Three Houses emoji. That is so specific.

Anyway HUGE difference between "I never finished Three Houses" (the story is probably good but my fuckinh god the calendar based gameplay wants my head on a pike. Missing important events/interactions due to the time based nature wants me DEAD. The general inflexibility when it comes to whatever cast of characters you're stuck with for what run like YEAH you can recruit dif students school arc but. The options still feel soooooo limited and if there's a house of characters you just don't vibe with but that's the run ypu have to do. Fuck your entire life. And then there's the time basedness of it all. The arc basedness of it all. The structure of it all IS DESIGNED VERY SPECIFICALLY to fucking Kill Me. You can't even fuck around and give yourself little side quests. The Fucking Time and Structure.) vs "I haven't finished Engage yet" (I have commitment issues 😔 I don't wanna let go.... 😟 I don't want it to be over 😢😢😭💔💔💔)

[27spoons]

The First | Natalie Scatorccio

pairing: natalie scatorccio/fem!reader

request: Sex with nat for the first time? maybe r is a virgin or they both are, either way I think nat would be really sweet and comforting esp if r is nervous. Oh and maybe some aftercarr, like a bit of cuddling or smthn. Can either be post crash or pre, anything is good. (🤺)

wc: 1790

warnings: porn/what plot, fluffy smut (afab!reader)

a/n: reader is a virgin, nat has only been with dudes so she still has no idea what to do, pre-crash

"So." Nat grins at you as she walks into your bedroom (wearing your shirt and her shorts, like usual) and closes the door behind her. "Your parents are…" She hums with a mischievous look on her face as she approaches you on the bed, the novel you were reading discarded in favour of something much more entertaining. "Away for the weekend…"

"They are, yes." You look up at her with a dumb grin when she moves to stand at the foot of your bed, "Which means we can smoke weed indoors!" You laugh to yourself at the comment, but the way Nat shakes her head at you says she has something else in mind.

"We could do that—and we will—but…" She giggles and hurries herself onto the bed and into your lap, and you don't need her to say anything else. You wrap your arms around her and immediately kiss her, laughing into her lips as her hands find your shoulders. 

When Nat breaks the kiss, her grin is just as wide as before. "I was thinking we could do something better."

You grin back at her, "Yeah? What's that?"

Nat pulls back slightly to remove her shirt, revealing her red bra and pale skin, but you don't get time to marvel at the sight before her lips are back on yours, and she's pushing herself against your chest, rocking her hips.

You make a sound of surprise into her mouth at the sudden eagerness to apparently get naked, but it's hardly a protest.

The girl in your lap sees it as one, however. "This… is this okay?" She asks quietly, pulling back to get a read on your face. "I just thought—"

"No! No! Wait, no." You shake your head immediately, hands finding their way to her hips, "It's more than okay! Okay? I'm just… surprised." A disbelieving, nervous laugh bubbles out of your throat, "I'm just…" The nervous smile falls, "Little nervous."

Nat gently places her hand on your neck, green eyes meeting yours with a soft understanding. "We can go slow, yeah?" She whispers, thumb brushing against your cheekbone. "Your pace."

"My—my pace?" Another nervous laugh, "I don't… I don't know what my pace is. I've never…"

She rolls her eyes fondly, "I know you've never, dumbass." She leans down to kiss you slowly, hips moving against yours again. 

This time, the kiss is less rushed and more tender. You can feel the way she pours her affection for you into the kiss in the way her tongue takes its time to explore your mouth, the way she curls her arms around you in an effort to be as close as humanly possible, the way she wants.

It's not long before your shirt is being discarded along with her shorts, but she watches you hesitate for a moment to remove your own pants. 

"Hey." Nat says softly, "It's okay, okay? We don't—"

You shake your head again, fingers a little shaky as you finally discard your sweatpants, "No, no. I want this." You look back at her and smile shyly, "Want you."

Nat bites her lip and grins at your form, looking far too excited. She takes a shaky breath in, then immediately climbs back in your lap and returns to kissing.

She slowly lays you down on the bed without breaking the kiss, her lips warm and wet against yours, hands roaming and mapping any bare skin she can find eagerly.

When she finally pulls back, her smile is just as wide as it was earlier and no less genuine. "Honestly?" Nat chuckles, hands resting on your shoulder. "I also have no idea what I'm doing. I may know how to kiss you, but I've got no idea how to actually do anything else. We can learn together, yeah?" One of her hands moves to push some hair out of your eyes gently, "And it's just me. I've literally seen you throw up behind a dumpster after you drank too much at a party and then immediately proceed to bawl your eyes out. Not like you gotta pretend or anything."

Her words and eyes are as soft as her smile has become, and you believe her. You swallow down that nervousness and nod, leaning up to capture her lips with yours again.

Your breath hitches when Nat trails one of her hands down between the two of you, and she pulls back momentarily, to which you immediately nod; then her lips are back on yours, and her fingers slide underneath the waistband of your underwear.

Nat's fingers are slightly hesitant as they slide through your slick folds, a quiet sound leaving her lips at the feeling of it. Her fingertips are probably a little colder than they should be, but that just makes the experience better, no? A little bit of… sensory play? You think that's what they call it. Either way, it has you arching into her touch and sliding your arms around her neck, keeping her mouth close to yours as her fingers continue to collect your wetness and tease the area. 

When her lips move to your neck, you take in deep, shaky breaths. Nervous? Yes. Excited? Yes. "Oh." You exhale, "Fuck, that, uh, feels good."

The laugh that leaves Nat is low and warm, and she pulls back slightly to speak, "I've barely even started." A short kiss to your jaw, "But I can." And with another kiss to your jaw, her fingers move to circle your clit, and you sharply exhale the second contact is made. 

"Oh."

"Oh?" Nat parrots, fingers slowly starting to find pace and rhythm. "I take it that's a good 'oh'?"

You groan in annoyance and pull her head back up to meet your lips again, kissing her to shut her up.

It's a very effective method, you find. 

You aren't quite sure how long her fingers focus on your clit, but for someone who has never been with another girl before, she sure as hell knows every single button to push. One of her fingers presses into you, and she swallows the sound that leaves your mouth, then pulls back just enough to speak. "Yeah?" She breathes out, to which you nod rapidly, and she adds another finger after a few moments, "Yeah."

Her fingers take their time initially, but once she feels you relax and get comfortable, they start to pick up speed and crook themselves inside of you. Nat's confidence grows with every quirk of her fingers, and you don't even fully register when her hips begin to move against your thigh, chasing her own pleasure. 

With shaky hands, you slide your fingers against the damp patch growing in her underwear, the fabric beginning to slide against your skin like something akin to silk.

"Fuck, yeah." Nat breathes out, hips pressing against your fingers with every rock of her hips against your thigh. With that encouragement, you push your hand under the waistband and find her clit (with a little bit of struggle, which she doesn't comment on, but instead thinks you're better than the guys she's been with at doing that), and she starts moving her body with feverish urgency. 

Your other hand grasps the bedsheets, hips rocking against her hand in time with the movement of her fingers inside of you. "Fuck, yes, Nat." You feel yourself clench rhythmically around her fingers, orgasm growing closer with every undulation.

"Y-yeah?" She lets out a breathless laugh as your fingers start frantically rubbing at her clit in an effort to get her there as quickly as you seem to be. "You feel good, for the record." Nat sits up straight and moves her free hand to rest on your stomach to aid the gyration of her hips. "Like… really good." Her eyes fall shut as her head falls back, and you feel yourself start to fall apart just watching her look like she's in sheer bliss.

Nat hisses when she feels your fingers clench down around her, and she stops the movement of her hips against you in order to apply her full focus to push you over that edge and—

Damn, you do. 

Your back arches up off the bed, your hand that was clenching bedsheets shooting out to grab at her wrist, nails biting the skin. "Fuck!" Your breath catches as your head comes off the bed before slamming back down, waves of the orgasm crashing over you in slow shivers. 

The second yours is done, Nat's fingers are out of you and gripping the thigh she isn't sitting on, riding with a renewed passion as breathless whimpers fall from her lips.

Not one to leave your girl hanging, you quickly start working your fingers against her clit again, sitting up slightly and tensing your thigh.

Nat shoots out the hand that was on your stomach to your shoulder and pulls your face into hers, kissing you with almost exclusively her tongue. It's wet and sloppy, and the way her movements are becoming less and less precise shows you she's getting closer with rapidity.

When she comes, her orgasm is just as harsh as yours was, crashing over her with a moan she muffles with her lips against yours, followed by subsequent whimpers as you continue to move your fingers against her.

It's not until Nat pulls your hand back from her sex that you realise she's probably sensitive from the orgasm, and you mutter out an apology for continuing, but she shakes her head and lets out a tired laugh into your mouth.

"No, baby. I'm not upset. Just need some time to get my shit back together after that." She moves off of your thigh, shivering slightly at the loss against her throbbing clit and lays down beside you. "Come on, lay down. We're gonna cuddle like losers."

You roll your eyes but comply, dramatically falling back against the mattress with a groan. "What will I do? Being forced to cuddle with my girlfriend?"

"What will you do?" Nat agrees, draping her arm over your waist and pulling herself into your side. "It's a real tragedy.

"Mhm. A real tragedy." You murmur back, pressing your lips to the top of her head a few times.

"This is what's gonna make us win states, by the way." She hums, pressing kisses to your shoulder. 

You snort at that, wrapping an arm loosely around her, "Really?" 

"Mhm." Nat nudges her forehead against the side of your neck, "Which means we'll have to do it again after we win states, obviously. Good luck charm, and all."

"Right. We'll see about that. I make no promises." 

"I do." She giggles to herself, "And I promise that this is a good luck charm."

a/n: spoiler: it wasnt a good luck charm ur pussy crashed the plane

[iluvmattsbeard]

where were you? (m.s)

master list

matt sturniolo x reader

VERY STRONG WARNING: SELF HARM/angst/swearing

(please do not read if you are highly sensitive with this subject.)

preview: you were the new student at school. you kept to yourself which caught Matt's eye. he was determined to figure you out.

a/n: this one hits close to home. if you are struggling with your mental health, know you are not alone. you are here for a reason. these type of emotions are tricky to figure out and no one should have to deal with them all by themselves. YOU ARE WORTH MORE THAN YOU THINK. I thank the triplets for bringing me back to life, especially Matt for shining light on the subject and being so genuine.

it was early in the morning at school. you just moved to Boston a few weeks ago. you were suppose to start school right away but you couldn't find the strength to do so. you were dreading being in a new environment and meeting new people. today, you had no choice but to show up. the school was blowing up your grandparents phones asking when you will be coming in. so today, you finally showed up.

you walked into the school's office getting your schedule. "name?" the lady at the front desk asks. "y/n l/n" you spoke out quietly looking around. she nods as she looks through a drawer pulling out a small sheet of paper, also grabbing a map. she hands you them as she speaks, "welcome to our school. enjoy your first day!" she says with a warm smile. you give a weak closed mouth smile as you thank her.

you look at the map as you find your way to your first class. taking small steps as possible still dreading being there. you finally stop in front of the classroom door as you put your hand on the handle gently, taking a small breather before stepping inside.

as soon as you walk in, all eyes land on you. you stand there uncomfortably with your heart racing fast. you took their looks feeling judged already. "hello! you must be y/n. correct?" you nod. "great. nice having you here. you may take a seat anywhere." you try to avoid looking around as you make your way straight to the back, sitting in an empty seat. you sat next to a brown haired boy not really paying attention to his face. "hey" you hear him whisper. you turn to look at him automatically catching his blue eyes. "hi" you whisper back looking away after. "i'm Matt" he says still having his eyes on you. as you don't respond, he continues to speak, "uh... I just wanted to introduce myself since we'll be sitting next to each other for the rest of the quarter. we usually do lots of partner work so, I was just hoping to get to know you so this isn't awkward."

you look at him with a blank stare. you appreciated his effort. "I'm y/n" you respond. he gives a soft smile as he looks at the paper laying on your desk. "can I take a look?" he asks pointing at your schedule. you nod sliding it over to him. "I can help show you around." he offers looking up from the paper and back towards you. you shake your head a bit before speaking, "no it's fine." grabbing your schedule. "i'll figure it out." "well I would like to anyways to make you feel comfortable." he suggests. you knew he wasn't going to stop pushing so you later on agree.

Matt walked with you during every passing period before lunch. he showed you where the bathrooms were, where the library was, and where the cafeteria was before walking you to your next class. the last class before lunch. "that actually helps a lot" you tell him with the same weak smile from earlier. "i'm glad" he says with a smile before walking away. you walk into class as you sit down looking at the clock already wanting the time to go faster.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

you were finally home as you stand in front of your bathroom mirror sighing. you looked at yourself for a bit. analyzing your face noticing your heavy eye bags. you suffered from the worst insomnia. every night you felt yourself being so tired. but when you shut your eyes, your mind keeps you awake with thoughts you wish you could avoid.

“y/n?” you hear your grandmother say behind the door as she knocks. you open the door revealing her with a gentle smile. “hi y/n. how was school?” she asks. “it went great.” you reply lying through your teeth. you had no choice but to lie. you didn’t feel the need to throw your negativity onto her. you always kept your own thoughts to yourself. especially around your grandparents. you didn’t want to worry them or push them away. they were all you had since your parents disappeared with no warning a few years ago. that’s when everything went down hill for you.

you had this repetitive thought in your head telling you how much of a disappointment you were that even your own parents couldn’t stay. you slowly lost yourself and your ability to socialize.

when night time came around, you laid in bed in the pitch black dark as you let out a soft sigh shutting your eyes. you were practically begging at this point for a good night’s rest. but you couldn’t. you open your eyes as you get up and walk to the bathroom locking it. you opened the drawer and focus your eye on something you were use to. picking it up and letting out a shaky breath.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

it’s been a few days now since you’ve been at school. every day had you feeling drained. you even still felt like you were being constantly judged even though people’s stares soon disappeared. you still felt the need to be on your toes. it was lunch time. you walked out of class as you see Matt. “hey y/n. you want to join me for lunch?” he asks. you avoid eye contact with him walking as you speak, “i guess” he nods with a smile as he starts talking about how his day has been so far with you just listening.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

you and Matt have been talking more at school. you told him where you were before moving to Boston, you shared common interests, and he talked about his brothers a lot. you were slowly getting used to having him around.

as you and Matt sit in class, you both just sat there doing your work. it was pretty silent in class indicating everyone was focused. you were minding your business until one of your classmates accidentally bumped into your table causing your phone to fall onto the ground. you lean down in your chair reaching for your it as the sleeve of your hoodies goes up slightly. Matt also went to reach for your phone but he stopped himself when he catches a glimpse of your slightly raised sleeve.

Matt’s POV

when i almost reached down to pick up y/n’s phone, i can’t help but notice her sleeve going up a bit revealing her wrist covered in red slits. it stopped me in my tracks as i sat there in shock. she didn’t notice at all that i seen. i look away as i continue to do my work, or pretend, having the image stuck on my mind. why would she do that?

End of Matt’s POV

when school finally ends, you walk out the doors as you get stopped by Matt. “hey y/n!” you turn to look at him. “oh hi” you respond. “you said you walk home so, can i give you a ride?” he asks. “no it’s okay. i like to walk.” you reply with a blank stare. Matt has now been eyeing you closely after what happened.

“come on” he says grabbing your hand softly with a slight smile pulling you to where his car is. “Matt seriously it’s no problem” you say. he opens the door for you looking at you before speaking, “get in” you step inside his car thanking him. “well that was nice of him”you thought to yourself.

the car ride was mostly silent as the only sound playing was his music slightly low. you notice he would glance at you from time to time. after a bit, he pulls up in front of your house putting the car in park. “thank you Matt. i really appreciate it.” you spoke looking at him. “anytime y/n.” he responds smiling. before you completely got out the car he stops you. “oh wait.” you turn around to look at him again. “is it okay to ask for your number?” he asks hoping you would say yes. “um.. sure.” you reply hesitantly. you never really gave anybody your number before. but Matt has been the first to ask for your number in the first place. he hands you his phone and you type it in. he thanks you with a smile and you just nod before going inside.

it was later in the night when you found yourself on your bathroom floor with a blank face. you look down and lift up your sleeves as you flinch a bit from the fabric sticking onto your fresh cuts. you looked at it feeling numb. you had your reasons for doing what you did. but nobody seemed to care to ask. you hid it from your grandparents because you didn’t want to crush them. they basically raised you when your parents couldn’t. they didn’t need to feel like they failed because that’s far from the truth. they did everything right. you just truly were stuck in your own head. that’s why the only comfort you were use to was picking up your razor blade.

you sigh as you let your thoughts consume you. you didn’t want to feel this way anymore. you just wanted to escape from your own head. you pick up the blade but hear your phone buzz.

unknown number

‘hey y/n it’s matt’

you pick up your phone as you reply back.

Y/N

‘hi matt’

as soon as you know it, you two were texting all night distracting you before going to bed.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

it’s been quite some time now you’ve been in Boston. even though you had Matt, every single day that goes by got you feeling weaker and weaker. Matt would distract you sometimes. he still had no clue what you’ve been going through. besides the one time he’s seen it but never brought it up.

Matt’s POV

i showed up to school anticipating excitement knowing i get to see y/n. she’s honestly the best person to talk to. it still crosses my mind the thought of her hurting herself but lately i haven’t seen any other signs. but when i arrived to class, she wasn’t there.

Matt

‘where are you?’

i text her but i get no response. i decided to wait and not think much of it until i realized she wasn’t texting back all day.

Matt

‘y/n are you okay?’

‘answer me y/n’

‘why aren’t you at school? why aren’t you replying?’

no response.

when school ends, i decided to get in my car and drive to her house. it was starting to scare me.

End of Matt’s POV

you sat on your bathroom floor with your head leaned against your bath tub, looking at the ceiling. your door wasn’t closed all the way so when Matt walked into your room and saw you in your bathroom, he felt his heart drop. you turned your head as you sat up, “Matt? how’d you get in here?” you ask confused. he walks up to you as he shuts the bathroom door.

“your grandma let me in.” he says. “why weren’t you responding to my texts? what’s wrong?” he asks. you avoid eye contact as you speak, “sorry. just didn’t feel like going.” all he does is stare at you before sitting down in front of you. “talk to me” he says quietly not pulling his eyes away from you. “there’s nothing to talk about?” you say in a confused tone. “clearly there is. i know you don’t like school but you will show up. how come not today?” he questions. “like i said, i didn’t feel like going.” you respond looking at your hands. “are you at least okay?” Matt asks with worry plastered on his face.

“of course i am” you say looking at him with a weak smile. “why wouldn’t i be?” he stays silent as he grabs your hand softly. taking his other hand to raise your sleeve slowly, with him looking at it frozen. you yank your hand away as you get up pulling the sleeve back down.

“what the fuck are you doing?” you ask as you feel yourself heat up. he stands up as well before speaking, “y/n why didn’t you tell me?” “what was there to tell you Matt?” you say in annoyance. “you doing that y/n. why didn’t you just tell me?” he asks with a somber face. “i saw them before in class when you reached for your phone. i never said anything because i didn’t want to pressure you.” “what was i suppose to tell you Matt?!” you say raising your voice. “it’s none of your business or your concern!”

“y/n please talk to me. i’m worried about you.” he says trying to grab your hand but you step back. “don’t touch me! i don’t need you feeling sorry for me.” you tell him. “i care about you. i get you like to keep things to yourself but i’m hear to listen.” he says. you let out a scoff, “this is unbelievable.” you say. “what’s so unbelievable about me wanting to be here for you?” you look at him with your face burning up from rage after his response. “i didn’t ask for you to be here! you should’ve minded your own business.” you exclaim. “i felt like i needed to be here y/n. for you. i don’t want you going through this alone. it pains me to know you just keep quiet.”

“because it’s none of your fucking business Matt! it’s my shit to keep to myself. not for you to hear. it pains you? well how do you think i feel!” you yell out. “y/n please.” he says quietly. “no Matt! i want you gone. no one has ever been here for me before and i sure as hell don’t need anybody now! especially you being here telling me you care when you don’t know shit!”

“yeah i don’t know shit y/n. that’s why i’m here trying to prove to you that i want to be here for you!” he says keeping eye contact. “Matt just get out!” you yell. “i’m not going anywhere y/n.” he says getting close to you trying to hold you but you push your hands against his chest trying to pull away from him, repeatedly screaming out, “get out! get out! GET OUT!” but he doesn’t listen and you eventually give into his hold as you break down crying with your legs giving out. Matt goes down as well holding you as he leans back against the sink cabinet wrapping his arms around you, embracing you in a hug.

he rubs your back softly as you sob in his chest. “i got you y/n. i’m right here for you.” he says reassuringly, resting his chin on your head. “i’m here to listen.” he pulls away as he lifts up your chin looking at the tears roll down your cheeks. he wipes them away and tucks your hair behind your ear. “i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i want the thoughts to go away and i try to put it into words but i just don’t get it.” you say sadly. he holds your hand as he speaks, “i know it can be difficult. i’m not asking you to tell me everything now because i know this is new for you. take all the time you need. but, i will be here. for you.” you look into his eyes as more tears stream down your face from his kind words. “you’ll be okay i promise.” he finishes, wiping your tears away again. you wrap your arms around his neck hugging him as he wraps his around your waist.

you knew you were safe with him. he validated that for you. “where were you when i needed someone the most?” you whisper out. “i could’ve avoided all this.”

“now they’re just going to turn into ugly scars…” you add on. he pulls away from the hug as he lifts up your sleeves. you gulp as he looks at them. he pulls your arms up gently to his face as he leaves soft kisses on your self inflicted wounds.

“don’t say that. when they turn into scars, i will look at them and tell you how incredibly beautiful they are.” he says. “you’re here for a reason y/n. these that will soon turn into scars, will show how you’ll progress to be stronger.”

you smile softly not even remembering the last time you actually let out a real smile. “thank you Matt.” you say. he smiles as he leaves a kiss on your forehead. “don’t thank me. i’ll always be here.” he says leaving the both of you still on the bathroom floor embracing each other.

A/N: i hope you guys enjoyed this Matt imagine. please always spread kindness and positivity!

[sidemari]

• No other choice •

A Dead by Daylight NSFW One-Shot.

Character included: Danny Johnson (Ghostface) x Fem!Reader

TW: Coercion, fingering (female receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, dirtytalk, swearing, stalking behavior, unhealthy relationship, reader's distorted feelings, death mentions, violence.

Mari's notes: This is a dark content post. Do not read it if you're uncomfortable with those kinds of works. Only 18+ people can interact.

You were so close.

The five generators already built, the exit gate almost completely open.

That was when the game really started.

He decided he was tired of being merciful to his stupid prey.

In a few minutes, the other three survivors had their lives taken, right in front of you, in an obscene and twisted way enough to make you nauseous.

You ran as fast as you could, searching for the hatch somewhere on the map, trying desperately to save your life.

After what seemed like decades, you finally found the hatch, along with a Ghostface already surrounding it.

He had closed the hatch before you could reach it.

The exit gates were not an option, he would easily catch up with you.

All that was left for you was to try to find some key left in a chest by the Entity.

You ran away again, trying to come up with a plan in your mind.

"I'm fucked." You whispered to yourself as you ran. Your legs were exhausted from the excessive effort, your speed decreasing steadily as the trial went on.

Reaching the main building on the map, you looked back for the first time since your sprint. He was on your heels.

"Damn you." you said harshly, preparing to run through a series of windows, thinking that this would give you some advantage in your escape.

"It's useless." He laughed. "You're just postponing your destiny." He followed you through the interior of the building, hunting you like prey, his determination to catch you stronger than ever. "Hey, bunny... You played well, but not well enough to escape."

"Son of a bitch." You cursed, losing speed as you jumped window by window.

"Ouch, that hurt." He pretended to be hurt by your words. "Oh, bunny... When I catch up with you..." He sighed, imagining everything he could do to you.

It was the last window.

And you were exhausted.

"Shit!" Your vision blurred and dizziness took over you. Stepping wrong, you twisted your foot in an extremely painful way, causing a scream of discomfort.

The shock paralyzed you for a few seconds and those seconds were enough for him to reach you.

Your eyes widened and you limped towards the window, but it was in vain. The pain was excruciating and you wouldn't be able to jump to the floor below as easily as you wanted.

"Gotcha!"

Ah, the fear.

The most primal instinct for survival.

The despair and hopelessness.

He could feel these feelings exuding from your exhausted body.

His hands gripped your waist tightly, stopping your ridiculous idea of ​​jumping through the last window towards the floor below as your last available resort.

"I told you it was useless." He grunted, pulling your body closer. "Look at you... You only hurt yourself." His head tilted to the side in false concern. "You're the last survivor of the trial, you should cooperate with me if you want to get out of here alive."

"Please..." You whimpered. "Let me go! You've already killed all three of them..."

"And you think you're more deserving of staying alive than they were, love?" You cringed at the pet name.

"No... It's just..." Tears formed in the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall at any moment. "We were so close..."

You wiped your tears away furiously, cursing yourself internally for showing weakness in front of a killer.

"Oh, bunny, I don't want to see you cry." He squeezed your waist with his hands as a vile way of reassuring you. "Not because you were unlucky, at least."

You accepted that there was no way out. Would he use his Memento Mori on you? Or would he let you bleed on the hook until the Entity took your soul?

Your gaze was lost.

Completely empty, lifeless.

The adrenaline already absent made you wish it would end as soon as possible.

"Kill me already." You whispered. "Please." Your tone of voice made his heart flutter in pleasure.

"No, bunny, you misunderstood. If you cooperate with me, I'll let you go. All you have to do is tell me whether or not you accept this proposal."

"What do you want from me?"

"I don't want something from you, I want you. All of you." He whispered against your ear, pulling your body impossibly close to his so you could feel his erection poking at your back.

Your eyebrows furrowed in disgust.

"No... I... I've never done that." You mumbled, shaking your head no.

"You'd rather bleed to death, I see." The sharp blade of his knife scraped against the skin of your neck, causing a small cut yet deep enough to bleed. "What a shame. You were a fun survivor to chase." He was about to plunge the blade into your neck when you whimpered an extremely pathetic "Wait."

"Hmm?" He chuckled. "What's wrong, bunny? Changed your mind?"

You examined his mask before whispering that you were willing to cooperate with him.

"Good choice, bunny. You're smarter than you look." He pulled you into one of the rooms in the building, causing you to hiss in discomfort due to your foot.

It was a bedroom.

Ruined, but it was a bedroom.

A working generator caused a constant noise in the ambience.

You looked at it sadly.

All that effort... And for what?

"Take off your clothes." He ordered, swinging the knife in his hand.

You stood still, not having the courage to start undressing.

"Did you fucking hear me?" He growled, venom dripping from his words.

Your trembling hands went towards the buttons of your shirt, unbuttoning them one by one with difficulty. You weren't wearing a bra underneath, so with the last button undone, the shirt slid to the floor, exposing your breasts to him.

Underneath the mask, his pupils dilated with lust. He was so ready to fuck you right there, but he waited patiently for you to undo your pants and boots.

"Your panties come off too." He murmured with pleasure when you hesitated, stepping closer.

You removed the last piece of clothing, a sinister shiver running down your spine.

"What are you going to do to me?" You asked him, anxiety written all over your voice.

His hands pulled your body against his, making your breasts press against his torso and you whimpered at the sensation.

"Oh, my little bunny..." He breathed against your ear. "I'm going to fuck you so hard... I'm going to fuck you until you lose all your remaining strength." You shivered in anticipation.

"Lay down." He gestured to the king-sized bed behind you and you obeyed him without resistance.

He removed the glove from his dominant hand, using his thumb to tease your clit before his middle and ring fingers collected the essence dripping from your sex.

"Fuck, you're so wet." He sneered. "You were fighting for your life just now and you're this wet? What a slut"

"Ghostface..." You whispered.

"Danny. Call me Danny"

"Danny..."

He removed his characteristic mask, revealing an extremely handsome face underneath it. You became absorbed in him, your gaze getting lost in his dark brown eyes. How could such a handsome man be so vile?

His fingers penetrated you, stretching you and preparing you to receive him soon. You could barely stand him masturbating you with both fingers, the burning sensation was present and very real.

"It hurts..." You whimpered, trying to close your legs only to have them forcefully opened.

"You're so tight, bunny... Fuck, I wonder how you'll be able to handle me fucking you good" His movements became faster and your thoughts more confused.

"Danny..." You whispered, catching the man's attention.

"Yes, my love?" Again, that pet name.

"Fuck me already"

How those two little words had unleashed something dark inside him.

You, a naively pure survivor, asking a guy like him to fuck you?

"Hmm, I don't think I heard you right." He pulled his fingers from your sex, licking them to taste you. "Fuck, you taste so good." He practically whimpered, before pulling you into a kiss, allowing you to taste a trace of your own essence on his tongue. He then sucked your tongue with his lips before moving his kiss down to your neck.

"Even after a trial, you still smell so good..." His tongue abused the sensitive spot below your ear, marking the skin with a painful hickey. "Repeat what you said moments ago, bunny." He kissed your breasts before sucking them urgently.

"I asked you to fuck me." You whispered, your hands caressing his dark hair as he busied himself with your breasts. "I want to feel you inside me, marking me as yours, making others know that I belong to you."

"Fuck, bunny... I didn't know you were that dirty." He laughed. "Asking to be fucked by a serial killer? That's sexy as hell. But if this is just manipulation, ah... I'll make you bitterly regret deceiving me." He threatened, his hand now squeezing your neck strong enough to make you loose your breath for some seconds.

It wasn't manipulation.

You just had no other choice.

Either you got into his twisted ideas and tried to take advantage of that bizarre and disgusting situation so you could save your life or you would just wait for it all to end miserably.

His teeth bit your nipple gently, making your body shudder beneath him and moans of pleasure leave your mouth.

"Ready?" He asked, tilting his head to the side in curiosity. You hummed, watching him remove his tunic, his cock freeing itself from the prison of fabrics. You nodded, allowing him to crawl between your legs, his cock lining up with the entrance of your vagina.

He penetrated you in one go, reaching as deep inside you as he could.

You whimpered, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively and your nails digging into the skin of his back, scratching him so deliciously that he almost came on the spot.

A few tears of discomfort wet your cheeks, but he wiped them away carefully, reassuring you.

"Hey, it's okay... You did it." Your eyebrows furrowed in pain and your breathing was labored.

"Danny..." You were feeling so sensory overloaded that it hurt. "It hurts so much..."

"Shh... I know, my bunny, I know." He kissed your lips gently. "Still, I'm going to start moving." And with that, the thrusts began. During the very first moments they were slow, but then they became violent.

You wished he would be more gentle since it was your first time, but you could barely say anything other than his name, much less formulate a sentence about how all of this was too much for you to handle.

"Fuck, squeeze me with your pussy, go on." He grunted between the thrusts, your cunt involuntarily contracting around him hard enough to make him see heaven. "That's it, just like that... You're so good for me, bunny." He groaned, his thumb stimulating your clit with just the right amount of pressure to make you melt beneath him.

"Danny!" You moaned as he stimulated that exact sensitive spot inside you in the most delicious way yet. "Fuck, that feels so good..."

"Oh really? My bunny likes to be fucked by her owner?" His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave marks. "Tell me, bunny, you've always wanted someone to fuck you as good as I do, haven't you?" He teased you, a cruelly malicious smile plastered on his face.

"Yes, it's t-true." You whimpered, your orgasm so close it hurt. "Faster." You begged, your nails leaving marks on his broad back. He obeyed your request, the pace of his thrusts getting viciously faster, fast enough to bring you both absurdly close to your climax.

"You're so fucking hot" He sighed, his hips moving erratically. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

"Me too..." You cried back.

"Cum with me, bunny. Cum good around my cock like the good little slut you are." Your vision blurred as the first wave of pleasure hit you. After that, many more came, your walls contracting around his cock in a wonderful way.

You felt something warm invade your insides without warning, earning a sigh from your lips. Your hands held his face gently, your eyes meeting his.

He smiled at you before pulling you into a tender kiss, unlike the previous ones that were full of need and lust. He ended the kiss with a few pecks, his hand tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"You were so good, my bunny." He pulled out of you, making you mewl at his absence. He closed your legs gently, not wanting a single drop of his cum to go to waste. "I should have proposed this silly game sooner, shouldn't I? I've had my eye on you for quite some time now."

"Danny..." You murmured, your hand caressing his cheek, soon combing his brown hair with your fingers in devotion.

Why were you feeling so complete?

This guy is a serial killer and yet you had never felt so safe and so... Desired?

"Here, a morning-after pill." He offered you the medicine that was inside the pocket of his tunic. "You're in your fertile period, as far as I remember. We can't risk having a child now, can we?"

"H-How do you know?"

"I know a lot about you, bunny. Unimaginable things."

You shivered.

Why did his obsession in you feel terrifying yet so oddly interesting?

"Get dressed, I'll guide you to the hatch. There was a key in a chest that a survivor left open on the map." He rummaged through the same pocket he had gotten the medicine. "Think fast!" He said before throwing the key in your direction, which you caught easily, looking at it as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

"Really?" You asked uncertainly. "I thought you were going to get rid of me right after we had sex."

"I made a deal with you, remember? I said that if you cooperated, you would get out of here alive. And besides, I'm not going to get rid of you so soon, not after I marked you as mine."

You got dressed at the same time as his words repeatead in your mind. The mask was back on, but he didn't look as scary as before.

"Come on, the hatch is to the south. Lean on me so you don't put too much strain on your twisted foot."

How thoughtful.

Once there, you used the key to open your way out of that trial.

"Thanks, Danny." You whispered.

"Always, bunny." He squeezed your hand one last time. "See you next time."

[skythealmighty]

gang ngl i miss object universe. i should rewatch it again and get way too emotionally attached to Ice Cream and Map

#rocket talk #i made fanart of them with a steven universe song once i'm unwell

(1 note)

🪟 im-not-electric Follow

why does gamey get to be on ii TWICE. who gave him permission

🪟 im-not-electric Follow

thanks for the suggestion @cabtube-truther

📟 knockoff-gameboy Follow

You don't hear PBSB complaining about this...

🪟 im-not-electric Follow

well they're in a show that's super popular

📟 knockoff-gameboy Follow

Yeah, and you're in one that got cancelled

🪟 im-not-electric Follow

shut up you didnt even finish season one

#just one more cameo mephone4 thats all i ask

(316 notes)

anonymous asked: not sure you're gonna want a cameo rn mephone is going Through it

🪟 im-not-electric Follow

hold on im not actually caught up lemme see

🪟 im-not-electric Follow

holy shit

#I TAKE IT BACK

(58 notes)

anonymous asked: omg fan pleaaaase marru me ill do anythinggg ❤❤❤🥵🥵🥵

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

hey @test-tubular just checking was i ever this weird

🧪 test-tubular Follow

Weird? Always. This weird? No.

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

COOL just checking anyway

no please stop sending me these

#fans fantastic asks #this is the least weird anon ask from i think this specific anon #ive blocked them but oh my god #NO!!!

(83 notes)

💥🔃 fans-fantastic-features Follow reblogged 4️⃣ four-therecord

2️⃣ hey-two Follow

Hello everyone!! 👋 Since I've gotten many an ask about my cheesecake recipe from previous TPOT episodes, I've decided to make a longpost and put it here for you all to use!! Feel free to use without credit but credit is still appreciated 😊

Keep reading

4️⃣ four-therecord Follow

i hate you

#so they ARE on here #followed both immediately #how did i not come across them earlier...

(2,613 notes)

💊 the-cringe-one Follow

Recovery across different universes, a scientific theory

(Full post below the cut)

((Thank you to @not-tally-hall for the testimony regarding the S*n!))

Keep reading

😎 the-chad-one Follow

boring 👎👎👎👎

💊 the-cringe-one Follow

Get off my post

⛳ bossy-bot Follow

This is incredibly fascinating and an enjoyable read! There are some points of debate I've brought up in DMs, but otherwise this is a very solid theory. Good job!

💊 the-cringe-one Follow

Thank you, that means a lot!!

#I follow your papers closely so hearing that coming from you is an honor #anyway back to my regularly scheduled nonsense

(13 notes)

🟧 julian-waiting Follow

Bonjour! J'ai découvert ce cite grâce à des vidéos amusantes

Je suis encore en train de m'habiteur à la société et je pense que c'est une bonne façon de me faire des amis! Enchanté de vous recontrer tous 😃

🥖 shut-up-about-boto Follow

bienvenue sur le site de l'enfer ! la plupart des gens ici ne parlent qu'anglais, vous pouvez donc m'envoyer un message si vous voulez parler à quelqu'un en français. je peux également vous montrer des endroits en ligne pour apprendre l'anglais

🟧 julian-waiting Follow

Cela signifierait beaucoup pour moi, merci

🥖 shut-up-about-boto Follow

bien sûr!

🍐 betterthanpearaib Follow

Baguette we all know you're not actually French you don't need to keep pretending 😒...

🥖 shut-up-about-boto Follow

K

(172 notes)

anonymous asked: your iconic quote from episode 10 has unfortunately become a vocal stim for me. please help, i'm suffering

🍿 stevecobseviltwin Follow

Hey? This is the funniest ask anyone's ever sent me. Can we make out behind a Denny's

#my condolences though oh my god 😭

(4 notes)

⚾️ take-me-out-to-theballgame Follow

Guys, this site is easy! Just watch

⚾️ take-me-out-to-theballgame Follow

Based ball? Based on what?

⚾️ take-me-out-to-theballgame Follow

#hey. are you doing okay

No

(42,526 notes)

🍐 betterthanpearaib Follow

Finally watched II! Good show. I want that twink OJ dead why is he like that

☝ i-date-iconic-posts Follow

Date of origin: November 2nd, 2020

🍐 betterthanpearaib Follow

I DIDNT MEAN IT I DIDNT MEAN IT I DIDNT MEAN JT I DIDNT

#😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

(26,942 notes)

🎒 liam-plecak Follow

Thanks everyone for the help so far! I'm not too much of a science nerd, unfortunately, @bossy-bot, so I didn't understand everything in the papers you sent me- but they still helped a ton! Especially the coding help. I was a telemarketer, not an IT person...

Now that I know what I'm doing, I have some free time. With some recommendations from @fans-fantastic-features:

If you have any other recommendations, just leave them in the comments. And please go and send help to @fire-cartoon-schtick while you're at it!

[back2bluesidex]

Slide - The Finale - MYG (18+)

Pairing: Producer!Yoongi X Lyricist!Reader 

Theme: Angst, smut, unplanned pregnancy. Fwb to ?

Word count: 0.5k+

Summary: 

"I can see the pain in your eyes I don't wanna say that I'm God, but I'll take you to heaven if you die" 

Alternatively, 

Tonight when he kisses you, it’s not a goodbye, rather it’s a promise of forever.

Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics

Warnings: Smut, fluff

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: And it's the curtain call time. Thanks to every single one of you for showering Slide with so so so much of love. Writing this has been fun for me but I know reading this was nothing short of a torture to you guys. But still you read it till the very end - nothing can mean more to a writer. Thanks a ton! that's it for Slide series.

Now-a-days when Yoongi touches you - you feel a difference. 

You wish you were capable of using better words, better adjectives but what you can feel is that his touches are purer, more profound, filled with an emotion that was missing before - maybe love? 

It feels so good. It feels the best. 

“Y/N” Yoongi murmurs your name against your collarbone, placing the sweetest kisses ever known to mankind. His hair tickles the skin of your throat - you giggle. 

His lips trace the map of your chest, wrapping them around your nipples with constant suck and flicks. Your toes curl as a result. 

Yoongi’s fingers slip past the waistband of your underwear, touching you at places where you have granted only him full access. 

“Y/N” he whispers again “I love you so much” 

Some two months ago you two were at the same place. He made love to you but as a good-bye note. He said sorry with every kiss. 

Today, though, he says he loves you with every move of his lips. 

You thank every god above there for this transition. You thank Yoongi, too, silently. 

He slips inside you, rugged breath ornamenting his thrusts. You want to frame him like this - so beautiful with beads of sweat on his temple, his hair sticking to his forehead, your name spilling from his lips. 

Oh, you love him. You love him so much.

“I love you so fucking much.” Yoongi replies to your silent confession and you are convinced he can read your mind. 

You pull him close to steal a kiss. 

Tonight when he kisses you, it’s not a goodbye, rather it’s a promise of forever. 

“She is really pretty.” You whisper-yell at Yoongi, staring at Namjoon’s bride as she walks down the aisle. 

Yoongi doesn’t reply anything to you right away. He seems to think of something. And then opens his mouth but shuts it again. After a moment he places his mouth right beside your ear, “but I think you will be the prettiest bride.” 

Your breath hitches. Is that.. Is that what you think it is? 

When you risk a glance at Yoongi, you find him already staring at you. A small smile is playing on his lips but his eyes are shining. 

Yoongi holds your hand under the table. Suddenly you are afraid and excited all together. 

“I am not asking you for anything right now, Y/N. But I guess- I guess we could try. When I think of a future with you it doesn’t seem too scary. It seems to be promising, quiet, and peaceful. So if you ever see fit.. We could, you know, you and I..” his words falter. 

You hold his hand tightly. Gulping once you ease his fears, “Let’s try. Let’s try when both of us are completely ready and sure.” 

Yoongi nods with a gummy smile, “yes. Yes.” 

“I love you.” You whisper. 

“I love you more.” Yoongi confirms, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

Alongside Namjoon and his bride, you and Yoongi, too, say “I do” to all the vows that have already bound you two together, hopefully for the rest of your lives. 

Permanent Taglist:

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[arcadelife2021]

Proper Dialogue Punctuation Master List

Because I'm apparently illiterate when I write, here's the list I made to keep track of proper punctuation with dialogue — Enjoy!

Use double quotation marks to enclose spoken words. "I can't believe it's already Friday," Sarah exclaimed.

Place commas, periods, question marks, and exclamation points inside the closing quotation marks when they are part of the dialogue. "Have you seen my keys?" John asked. "I've looked everywhere!"

Use a comma to separate the dialogue tag from the spoken words:

Before the dialogue: Mary whispered, "Be quiet, they might hear us."

After the dialogue: "I think we're lost," Tom admitted, looking around nervously.

Start a new paragraph for each new speaker. > "Did you finish your homework?" Mom asked. > "Almost," replied Jimmy. "I just have math left." > "Well, hurry up. Dinner's almost ready," Mom said.

Use an em dash (—) to indicate interrupted speech.

For abrupt interruptions: "I was about to tell you that—" "Stop!" Jake shouted, cutting her off mid-sentence.

For self-interruption with action: "How on earth"—he shook his fists—"do I punctuate this?"

For interruption by another speaker: "How should we edit—" "Not we, Bob," Whitney said. "Fixing this punctuation is all on you."

For trailing-off speech, use ellipsis (...) inside the quotation marks. "I thought I saw something in the woods..." Jeremy whispered, looking around.

When dialogue is split by a tag, use a comma after the tag and lowercase the first word of the continued dialogue. "If we don't leave now," Dad warned, "we'll miss our flight."

For questions within dialogue, place the question mark inside the quotation marks. "Where did you put my glasses?" Grandpa inquired.

When the entire sentence containing dialogue is a question, place the question mark outside the quotation marks. Did she really say, "I don't care about the consequences"?

Capitalize the first word of dialogue, even when it follows a dialogue tag. The teacher announced, "Everyone, please take out your textbooks."

For dialogue interrupted by an action, use commas to set off the action. "Okay, here's the plan. I think we should go here, and," he rifled through the papers and maps, "if we don't find what we're looking for, we can move on."

When using exclamation points or question marks in dialogue, the first word of the following dialogue tag should be lowercase. "Watch out for that car!" he yelled. "How did you know?" she asked, her eyes wide with surprise.

When a character is quoting someone else in dialogue, you should use nested quotation marks. "I couldn't believe it when Sarah said, 'I'm moving to Paris next month.' It came as a complete surprise," John explained.

When a character is summarizing someone else's words in dialogue, you don't need to use quotation marks for the summarized speech. "I talked to Fred earlier," Mary said. "He told me he's been feeling overwhelmed lately and isn't sure how to handle his workload." "According to Sarah, the meeting went well, and everyone agreed on the new project timeline."

When punctuating thoughts, capitalize and punctuate thoughts as you would spoken dialogue. Use thought tags ("he thought," "she wondered") to orient the reader, similar to dialogue tags. She thought, When this week finally ends, my troubles will be over. Where did I put my keys? he wondered, searching his apartment. I wonder what he's thinking, Sarah mused as she watched John across the room.

Good Rules of Thumb:

If it's spoken (dialogue tags only, "he said," "she whispered") with no action, use a comma.

If it's an action while speaking, use a comma.

If it's an action completed before speaking, use a period.

If it's an exclamation mark/question mark before the dialogue tag, lowercase the pronouns following but capitalize all proper nouns (names) always.

If it's an exclamation mark/question mark after the dialogue tag, use a comma.

If it's the start of a standalone sentence, capitalize pronouns and proper nouns.

If you're confused about which to use (a comma and lowercase pronoun or period and capitalized pronoun), think "Are they doing this while speaking or after/before speaking?"

If your character is thinking, treat it like they're speaking.

If you're struggling to be consistent when writing, remember: it really doesn't matter. Perfection is an illusion, just write and use tools that make you happy. If you make a mistake, English is so complicated that most of the time, no one will notice. Now go write some great dialogue!

[eebeewrites]

!Elf Scholar x !chubby/human/female Reader (18+) Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Your tryst at the cave made it difficult to focus on your work. It didn't help that tonight was slower than usual, your eyes always wandering over to his group. You would've been content just leaning against the bar and zoning out while you admired him. However, things were t tense with his companions. You looked across the room at their table, watching them argue.

"I don't want to be rude, but you don't know what the fuck you're talking about," the human rogue said with a cocky smile.

"Look, all I'm saying is traveling in the dark is a shitty idea. I don’t know why you’re so hellbent on it, you can’t even see in the dark,” said the dwarf.

“I don’t need to. I have you three to see for me.”

“You really think you can aim a knife well in the dark?”

“I can certainly try.”

Admittedly, their banter was entertaining to listen to. Your lover didn’t seem to share your feelings; At best he, was annoyed. At worst, he was distraught. He kept his eyes pointed down at the map, trying not to draw attention to himself as they argued; the orc girl you had seen with them earlier did the same.

The rogue looked over to him, “what do you think?”

He shrugged, “I haven’t got the faintest idea why you’re asking me. Bandits and criminals aren’t my venue.”

“Yeah, but weird creatures are. They might be bandits, but they’re still doppelgängers. I figured you’d love that kind of shit.”

“And he also loves staying alive, presumably. We just got here. There’s no need to rush resting.” He didn’t seem thrilled about the dwarf speaking for him.

“We’ve also been tracking these bastards for weeks. If we don’t go now, we might lose them again.”

The sound of thunder cracked over the tavern, a rare silence following its echo.

He sighed, looking back up at the group. “It seems we aren’t going anywhere. Darkness is one thing, but adding a storm into the mix sounds disastrous.”

The rogue sighed, “fair enough. Hopefully it’ll pass by morning, and they won’t have strayed too far.”

The group only spoke for a few more minutes before retreating to their rooms to sleep, with the exception of your Elvish lover. He walked over to the bar, sat down, and sighed, resting his head on his arms.

You put down the glass you were cleaning and leaned close to him, the two of you separated by the wooden bar-top. You gently pet his arm, “you alright?” You ask softly.

“I don’t like being a tie-breaker,” he mumbled. “They always look to me to make the final call, to direct them, and every time it makes me uneasy.”

“Why’s that?”

He looked back up at you, his glasses crooked from pressing his face against his arm. “Because what if I make the wrong choice? What if the wrong choice means…I don’t know,” he trailed off.

You straightened his glasses before running a hand across his cheek. “Then you take comfort in the fact that you did the best you could. You’re not going to know everything.”

“I’m well aware of that. I just wish everyone didn’t expect me to know everything.”

You shrug, “it’s foolish to expect that of anyone. If they think that, then that’s on them, not you.”

He nodded, letting out a sigh. “Sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake coming here. I mean,” he started to stutter, “not coming here and meeting you, but just…leaving home in general.”

“Are you happier?”

“I think so. I’m happy I’ve gotten to see so many places, so many things, so many types of creatures I’d only ever read about. I’m happy I got to meet you. But at the same time…I don’t know if I’m cut out for this, all this traveling and fighting.”

He expected you to reassure him, to tell him that he was plenty cut out for the exciting path of an adventurer. But you didn’t.

“It’s alright to not be cut out for something. It doesn’t mean you’ve failed, it just means you’ve found something that’s not for you, and learned more about yourself in the process. I know I'm certainly not cut out for adventuring, and I’m not so sure you’re cut out for breaking up a bar fight with only a broom.”

“Definitely not. I’d rather fight a dragon again than do that,” he laughed. “I know this is probably rude, but…you’re quite wise for a human.”

You shrug once more, “I may not be a century old, but I’ve learned a thing or two,” you laugh. “You learn quite a lot listening to people in here. Now, are you going to invite me to come upstairs with you again or not?” You tease, watching a slight smile paint his face.

“Of course I am.” He simply sat at the bar, watching you finish cleaning as the sounds of the rain got louder. Admittedly, you were a bit nervous about the basement flooding, but that was a problem for tomorrow.

You both made your way back to his room, the very same one he had rented the first time you slept together. You watched as he shut and locked the door behind him before looking back at you.

He looked nervous for a moment, eyeing you up and down. He didn’t seem sure of what to do. “Would it be alright to just…talk?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

He smiled, walking closer before pulling you into an embrace. “I really did want to tell you why I was out in that cave,” he laughed quietly. “Actually, there’s lots of things I wanted to tell you.”

“Then tell me. I’m perfectly content with just listening to you talk.”

You laid next to him in bed, your head resting on his chest as he showed you all his notes and sketches of his adventures from the past month. You listened eagerly, mesmerized by the way he told stories. Any self-doubt he had before melted away as he spoke of his theories and discoveries. You couldn’t help but beam as you looked up at him, watching as his eyes lit up.

“So it’s doppelgängers now? Don’t those mostly exist in the Underdark?” You ask.

He nodded, “mostly, but we were told there’s a group of them going into peoples houses and businesses to rob them.”

“Why?”

He sighed, “I’m not sure. It’s also incredibly strange that they work in a group. Most doppelgängers only reveal their true form upon death, so often other doppelgängers don’t even know they’re in the presence of their peers.”

“I’ve never seen one before.”

“That you know of. We could’ve all passed by one, they’re not inherently evil. Still, a thieves guild comprising of only doppelgängers is strange. Although, you probably see all kinds of people throughout the day.”

You shrug, “I suppose so. A lot of people pass through here.”

“Then your chances of seeing one are probably higher than mine,” he laughed, letting out a sigh. “But that’s our current objective. I’m hoping I’ll get to speak to one of them, but…” he sighed, “my companions might be too impulsive to grant me that opportunity.”

“What do you mean?”

He paused, looking back out the window as the storm continued, flashes of lighting briefly illuminating the sky. “To put it bluntly, I don’t like killing. They do. Sometimes a bit too much, I’m afraid.”

“I suppose that’s an unfortunate part of the job. But still, I assume you’re all killing bandits and murderers, people or beasts that would’ve killed innocent people had you not stepped in.”

“Maybe so, but…I still don’t like it.” He set his journal down on the side table. “It frightens me, the sight of death. They told me I’d get used to it but…I don’t think I have.”

“How long have you been traveling with them?”

“Five years. I don’t…dislike any of them. I call them my friends, but sometimes they scare me.”

“Do you do any of the fighting?”

He nodded, “I do, but I don’t like it. Still, I have to,” he said sternly, his tone much more serious than before.

“Why do you say that?”

He looked around nervously, avoiding your gaze. “Earlier, when we were talking at the bar. You said I don’t have to be cut out for adventuring.”

“That’s right, you don’t.”

He let out a heavy sigh, “unfortunately…I do. It goes beyond what my friends want, what my parents want, but…there are things I need to accomplish that I can’t do unless…unless I’m doing something like this.”

You couldn't mask the puzzled look on your face, no matter how hard you tried. "What do you mean?"

He looked back at you; you might've been confused, but you didn't appear judgmental. "I hope you won't think differently of me if I tell you this," he mumbled.

You sat up, looking at him directly. "I won't." You couldn't be certain if your statement was a lie as you awaited his response.

"My sister loved to run off to the beach at night, when we were children. Our parents always told us of what danger could lurk in the waters, but we didn't listen. I tried to convince her every time that this was a bad idea, or that we'd get in trouble, but she always managed to convince me to go along with her. I assumed it'd be thieves or criminals we needed to fear, but...it was much simpler than that." He looked back out at the rain, the wind whistling in the night. "It was the ocean itself."

"What happened?"

He shrugged, "the currents took her. I tried to save her, I swam in, pulled her out, and...nothing. She was cold and pale. She was dead."

You took your hand in his, "I'm so, so sorry-"

"That's when I saw this creature emerge from the ocean. It was massive; thousands of eyes, large tentacles, it was horrifying. But it gave me an offer. It said it'd save my sister if I promised it two things." He paused once more, "the first was to devote my life to studying powerful creatures on land, telling it everything I learned once a decade. The second was to give it my first born son, whenever that occurs," he shrugged.

You weren't sure what to say. You assumed he knew some type of magic, or had some way to defend himself on these expeditions. You never would've expected he was a warlock.

You were speechless, and he assumed the worst. "I'm sorry, I...I suppose I should've told you, or maybe I shouldn't have, I don't know, I just-"

You put a hand on his shoulder. "You did what you had to do. You saved your sister's life. I think that's very noble of you."

He let out a sigh of relief. "It's...I don't know why, but it feels wrong. To devote myself to a beast like that. A beast that's felled thousands of ships, killing thousands of men."

"Did you really have another choice?

"I suppose not. To this day, my sister herself doesn't even know. The only people that know are you, and my traveling companions. I don't know if I want to keep doing this, to keep risking my life day in and day out." He looked back up at you, "I envy your life."

You couldn't help but smile, "I don't know if you want to go that far," you joked.

"No, really, I do. You do the same thing, day in and day out, yes?"

"That's true."

"I want to keep studying mythical beasts and creatures, don't get me wrong. It fascinates me, it's something I'm passionate about. Yet...I want to take a break. I want to just...stay in one place for awhile. Enjoy monotony. I'm sure that sounds silly."

"No, no, I understand. Does your..."

"Patron."

"Does your patron allow you to take breaks? Surely they can't expect you to travel non-stop."

"That's just it, I don't know. I've never tried. Even in the winter, I just went south. I've certainly thought about it, but I'm too afraid to push the limit, to defy it. What I do know is it can only appear in the ocean itself, every decade I go to the shore to speak with it."

"Well, we're land locked," you joke. Although, perhaps he could get away with more here than if he were on the coast. Still, you weren't about to suggest that.

"Maybe," he smiled, "I suppose there's a good chance it has no power here."

"This might sound silly, I know very little about..." you gesture with your hand, "things like this, but...could you just...ask?"

"Ask it if I can take a break?"

"Yeah. Worst it can say is no, right?"

He couldn't help but laugh, "you know, maybe you're right. I would...I would like to stay here, I think." He sighed, "maybe it's not a silly idea."

You laid back down, wrapping your arms around him as you rested your head atop his chest once more. "Could be worth a shot."

He held you tightly throughout the night, and when you awoke, he was right there next to you. A welcome change. You looked out the window, and the storm still raged on.

He'd need to stay a little longer.

AN: shoutout to @rottenswarm for giving me the idea of giving him a sister, cause I just fuckin took that and RAN with it. also this opens...a lot of other doors for other ideas, I think. I kinda rushed this one just cause I was excited to get it out LOL

Part 4

TAGLIST: @blushycadaver

(if you'd like to be added to taglist for this story, just send me an ask or comment!)

[raayllum]

a/n: set after 6x06 and heavily references 6x03 bc they were blessings

Sometime after they stop kissing — alright, they don't really stop, but languid silences, soft giggling, and sweet nothings fill some of the space in between kisses as they curl up together on his bed in the Starscraper — Callum asks, "So, what were you crying about on the Ray of Illumination?"

The sun is rising above the sea of clouds outside their bedroom window, and for a moment he regrets bringing up anything potentially sad, both of them happier than they've been in years, honestly. They have everything they need for her parents, his connection to Aaravos has been severed, the light and truth of her love filling the cracks in his heart, instead, and finally, finally she knows that his heart has always belonged to her. That it always will.

But he's always been curious, and he's always wanted to sooth whatever's troubling her, fix whatever is breaking her heart, and she'd had a good deal to cry over just a couple weeks ago — maybe even something from the last two years apart — and... he wants to know. He wants to help.

And, slowly, he thinks she's getting to a place where she wants him to be able to, where she'll let him.

"Oh, um..." Rayla averts her eyes, fingers tangled with his, but her smile doesn't dim. She sticks her tongue in her cheek. "It's a bit silly, really."

"Still." He uses his free hand to brush his thumb over the curve of her cheek, the blue bend of her marking, where he knows the tears would've fallen.

"Just an old diary written by the captain. Esme something. Stella pushed it open." Rayla scoots a bit closer and Callum lets go of her hand to wrap his arm around her, more than happy to give into her desire to be held; he never feels more at peace than when he's holding her, now more than ever.

The bump of the tip of his nose against hers as a gentle prod. "And?"

Rayla turns her face down, his lips brushing her brow, but he can still tell she's worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. He wants to angle his face down and kiss that worry away, draw her lips to his, but refrains. They have plenty of time, after all. To kiss, and rest, and prepare for their journey. It's close to dawn now, and Callum knows they won't leave till the day after tomorrow at least — they need supplies for the journey to the Nexus, recover from their trials, and to say goodbye to their new friends here.

Finally, Rayla explains, "She was writing during the last days of her life, on that ship I guess. About a man she left behind. Her one true love, Conrad."

"Oh." Callum pulls her further into a hug on instinct, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Just... resonated with me," she nearly sniffles, laughing weakly, but her smile is real and reaches her eyes when he glances down to check. "I'm sure you can imagine why."

"Lots of stuff about what she would've said if she saw him again?"

"Mmhm."

"Think I can relate to that too," he hums, giving her forehead another kiss. "I love you, Rayla," he repeats for what might be the millionth time that day, but he already knows he can never say it enough. He's always known that. "I'm so glad you came back."

She wraps her arms tighter around his torso, cuddling in closer, tension ebbing out of her and face half pressed to his scarf. "I'm so happy you're here, Callum," she sighs warmly.

"Always." He strokes her hair, wondering if she'll fall asleep like this—it always got her a little drowsy in the past—or if she'll let him weave her braid for her one of these days, musing, and then... "The Captain's name wasn't Esmerelda Skall, was it?"

Rayla lifts her head, brow furrowed adorably. "Er, yeah, it was. Why? How do you know that?"

"She was a famous explorer in the Human Kingdoms. Charted out a lot of our maps up north. My Dad—King Harrow—took me on a diplomatic mission once to Del Bar, where she's from, when I was eleven or twelve." There's a warm, content feeling blooming in his chest that he'll get to give her closure on this, too, somehow. "Conrad founded a town near the capitol and served as mayor. He named it after her. He loved her all his life—put a grave marker for her next to his when he died and everything."

Rayla's "Oh" comes out choked and small, but her smile is wide as she blinks back tears. "That's—that's beautiful. I guess he really—"

"—loved her?" Callum finishes, curling two fingers under her chin to lift her face for a moment. Then he brushes away the real tears trickling over, drawing her further into his snug embrace. Her breath is beautifully warm as it fans over his lips before he kisses her, soft and firm. "Yes. I really do."

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 3.

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content and mention of sex toy. It's a kinky writing challenge, so expect anything at this point, (nothing freaky, don't worry) but it's a surprise calendar so I won't spoil it! (Also, English is not my native language) Contains brief reference to Dec.1 (Sunshine)

Advent calendar includes: headcanons, snippets, one shots, imagines, blurbs etc.

Words: 900 (blurb and bullet points and a bittersweet-wholesome ending scene)

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

A/N: Woop I'm early today! Happy 3rd Advent sweeties! If you want to be tagged for the next parts, just let me know. And tell me what you think! Now enjoy! 🦊

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

3rd Dec. - Lights Out

It’s the 3rd December, Dean’s coming back from a repairing session on Baby just to find the light switch of his bunker’s bedroom not working.

“Close the door,” You command in an unusual voice of authority.

Dean’s skeptical at first, the thought of not seeing you is one thing but you know him better than that; what really makes him nervous is the fact that he’ll have no control like this - and that’s exactly your goal.

After a sultry “Come on Dean, today’s my turn to surprise you...” he finally closes the door behind him, plunging the room into complete darkness, “Babe, it’s totally dark in here, I can’t see shit…” he chuckles in mock-annoyance.

“Yeh, that’s the point of the game.” You reply with a mischievous smile on your face, “This’ll make things more interesting again.”

Now that you’ve got Dean’s attention, the thought of not being able to see at all is suddenly strangely arousing to him and he licks his lips before he replies with a warning, “Watch out you little minx, I’m gonna getcha.”

You feel excited and tingling from the lack of visual; the unpredictability and how your senses are heightened.

The sound of your or Dean’s breathing in the silence is the only help in trying to pin-point the others location

The deep and raspy voice of Dean makes you shiver as you try to guess his whereabouts

When he stands close to you, you can feel the heat of his body in the darkness

You feel the air shifting and his presence near you, the slightest change in breath or movement of him feels much more intense than usual

You can hear your own heartbeat increase, hammering in your ears

With your sense of smell heightened, his scent is almost intoxicating

You smell all the different scents that cling to him; worn leather, a hint of whiskey, a faint aroma of musk and sweat, a lingering trace of the cheap motel shampoo from the other day and a mix of motor oil from Baby, gunpowder and rock-salt.

Even though Dean knows your body like the back of his hand by now, he explores your skin with a newfound excitement now that he’s completely reliant on his other senses

You feel Dean’s calloused fingers run over your body, tracing your skin over every inch, slow and deliberate as if he was to map out the smallest detail

The first touch of his fingertips on you leave a trail of goosebumps on your entire body

You’re so hyperaware that every touch to your skin feels like a spark

You feel Dean’s stubbles graze the inside of your thighs, slowly moving upwards

Coordination is a real challenge without seeing anything and you soon find out the hard way that you need to take it slow or one of you will definitely end up knocked out

Dean accidentally knocks his knee into your ribs and you tumble over the edge of the bed with a loud groan as you both hit the ground and he lands on top of you

Dean grunts in pain as you in return give him a blow to the jaw when you jolt your head back - but despite the pain he chuckles in a little strained voice, still amused, “Careful, baby… I need my pretty face for hunting.”

“You wearin’ your pretty little gift, sunshine?” (Are you?) “Ya know, chances are, I’ll end up picking the wrong hole in this darkness,” he jokes huskily, his hands gripping and squeezing your hips as he grinds against you from behind

Every sensation feels like a surprise and ten times more intense as you rub against each other

Dean’s pleading for more as he can’t anticipate any of your next moves and only feels your hot breath on his thighs and cock

Dean moans as loud as ever when your lips just as much as graze the tip of his cock

Dean pulls you back by the foot as you try to hide from him

Dean pins your wrists or ankles down, in a desperate attempt to keep some form of control

Dean’s surprisingly sensual and slow going as he pounds into you, both of his hands constantly running up and down your sides

Dean teases you by stopping mid-motion once every thrust, enjoying the small whimpers of you as you can’t anticipate his next harder thrust that makes you whine and tremble

Meanwhile he maps out your body with wet kisses and tongue swipes while he listens to your smallest change of breath and increasing moans

Time seems to stand still as you both fall over the edge with the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had

The experience leaves both of you dizzy, exhausted and panting as you crawl on top of Dean to rest your head on his chest, his heart beating against your ear.

Snuggled up to his chest, Dean thinks you’ve finally fallen asleep. He strokes your hair gingerly, his chin resting on your head when his features grow pensive and he murmurs against your hair, “Ya know…I’m attracted to you like a moth to light. I’ve always been. That’s why I believe we’ll always find back to each other, even in the darkest times… My own little sunshine.”

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Tags:

@deaniemyboo @deansjacket @literallylexa

[spencerified]

Hiii, well, English is not my first language, sorry for that. I'm not a writer, but a big reader, so welcome to the community ^^

I was thinking about a reader who works in BAU, gets kidnapped, and for some reason the su-des was filming, and the reader is forced to confess that she like Spencer, (The whole team saw it).

As if the su-des were playing a game like truth or dare, and ended up reluctantly confessing that, the reader having a lot of confidence. If you read this and do it I would be very grateful, ily^^♡

(Can be fem!reader or g!reader, it doesn't matter, I repeat, if you read it and do it I will thank you for the rest of my life)

hiii!!! first of all thank you so much for trusting me with your request 🫶 this came out a little (a lot) longer than I thought it would but i hope it's still what you expected and that you enjoy it!! any other requests are very welcome ♡ lots of hugs for everyone

✿

"Stop."

You're relieved that your weak attempt, your last resort at trying to get the Unsub to show you mercy, makes him stop in his tracks. You still feel the ghost of the edge of a knife itching against your skin, when it was unclear if he really wanted to hurt you or if it was just an attempt at getting you to break. To get you to spill your most deepest, darkest secrets, the ones hidden within the depths of your heart. 

Hidden even from Spencer, who looks at you from (presumably) miles away, through a sketchy live transmission sent to Garcia. Untraceable, of course. He desperately wishes he could just snap his fingers and make it all go away. Every tear, every ache, every whisper of pain. Wants to build a world where you won’t know suffering ever again.

Hotch's voice when he first trained you for what Penelope called 'The Non-Fun Parts of The Job' resonates in your hazy mind. Be aware your surroundings, he said, and you wonder if he might be disappointed on the other side of the camera haphazardly propped up a few feet in front of you, it's red light mocking you with each blink.

"Why are you doing this?" You say, emitting now only a pitiful vestige of your voice which is usually never afraid to speak on anything. It seems amusing to him because seconds later, a cheshire grin blossoms in his face, causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand. 

"Oh, you have no idea who I am, do you?" He says. You've never thought a person could inflict so much fear with only a look and a few words. "I don't remember you either, so no hard feelings. But the BAU has... humiliated me. Took everything I love away from me. My family, my job, my friends..." His voice grows low to the point that if you weren't so on edge, you would have to strain your ears to hear him. "They may think getting away for years feels like a reward to me, but they don't live what I live. 

Watching the TV waiting for the next time the BAU finally remembers me over the rest of the cases they have to push away to the… dusty corners of their file room because of their incompetency and decides to spread my picture all over the news once again... it's no way to live." 

The man's voice is so calm you constantly wait for the other shoe to drop. Like when you're so scared on a rollercoaster and your only option is to close your eyes and wait for the inevitable drop. It doesn't come. It seems like years of inflicting pain on others, and then years of hiding away from the consequences are an upstanding process on how to numb a person.

Spencer sees it too. He sees that this Unsub just won't lose control, and that scares him. Because someone this put together – in a rather bizarre way, wouldn't even bat an eye were he to decide on hurting you. And Spencer would have to watch it all, powerless, scribbling over and over again over his wide map spread out on the conference room's table. 

"I'm sorry..." You lie through your teeth. "That you have to live that way."

Fake empathy towards him, Hotch echoes on your head again. You must be reliving his instructions in your head as a way to keep your cool. You bite your lip so hard you fear it might bleed when you realize you're doing it. He's delusional, you reason. He thinks the BAU wanting to catch him for murdering at least 7 couples in public parks is somehow a way to wrong him. 

"Well, thank you," he says, a bitter tone bleeding into his words. "But it's not enough. Luckily for you, you know just what to do that will be." 

"I don't have any secrets," you confess. Outside of the BAU, you don't have a very interesting life. Go home, say hi to the neighbors in your building, sometimes smile at someone while shopping groceries. No burning, forbidden love affair – mostly because the only candidate you want is endearingly oblivious ���, no superhero side quests that would make for an interesting conversation at lunch break with your coworkers. No skeletons in your closet, no secret vices or scandalous secrets that would obliterate your pristine reputation amongst your coworkers. Not even one involving the most important one of them. Of course not. 

"I'm sure you do. Everyone does," he circles your chair. You want to sob when you lose sight of him and feel his presence looming on the back of the chair. Not knowing when your life could potentially be taken away from you is jarring. 

"I don't," you say. You don't need to use the word 'please' for him to know that you're begging for your life. "I really don't." 

Pull yourself together, you think. This is not how a BAU agent must react when faced with a threat. But then again, you've only been here for less than a year, and maybe you just don't have it in you to keep your cool the way the rest of your team would. You take a harsh deep breath. 

Spencer has a rather uncanny ability to tune the world out. When he's engrossed in his job, his books, his facts, it's easy to lose himself on them. Specially when the only person who usually listens to him when he externalizes them is away. 

Not away, he thinks. That makes it seem like you're taking a vacation. A small voice in the back of his head wonders where would you go if you were given the chance to. Then, he remembers he might never find out if he doesn't figure this out soon. The case has the team's complete and utter attention, and he knows these are some of the best minds in the Bureau. But he still feels like it's his responsibility to figure it out; he can't help but think that it's what it's expected of him. He wonders if that expectation stems from being a prodigy, or because he's so close to you that it only makes sense it would be him. 

He feels a rush flowing through his veins when he feels like he's close to figuring it out. Then, he's harshly brought back to the reality where he hogs the conference room's table with his map and the team scatters over the rest of the room, working on who-knows-what, by a series of worrying hurried breaths of yours. 

"Okay, okay!" You say, when he roughly yanks you by the hair to keep you still. The knife you thought was previously discarded hovers over your ear. 

"One clean slash, and you'll be out like a light."

You don't find it in yourself to want to test the veracity of that theory out. 

So you realize your only shot at getting out of here might be giving him what he wants. You can't stall anymore, and one side of your brain tells you that it's your team, they'll get here in time, and the other asks itself if that might be a thing that just happens in unrealistic crime shows. 

"I..." You start. You wonder if Spencer is watching this. You would rather have every agent in the FBI hear this, all 35,000 of them, instead of him. You whimper when the knife inches closer to your skin. You can't die. Not here. Is keeping your perception of dignity worth losing your life? "I like my coworker." 

It doesn't satisfy the Unsub. "Which one?" 

You want to refuse to answer, to curl into a ball and cry until you recover the false sense of confidence you walk around with that has now been shattered. You'll get it back, eventually. Not if you die. So you toughen it up, and breathe deep. "Spencer." 

It sounds so stupid. A mere speck in the grand scheme of things, of problems and situations anyone would expect an FBI agent to have. But it's the hardest thing you've ever had to say.

And it's the hardest thing he's ever had to hear. If it were in any other situation, he wouldn't have put it past him to jump in glee. You, with your head always held high, never one to shy away from showing who you were to the world, with your gentle soul that lured him in even when he tried to keep his heart safe from rejection... You liked him. But that's not his focus right now. Even if every single train of thought in his brain has come to a catastrophic halt, he has to focus, because he can't take one more second of seeing you trying to keep calm with a knife to your throat. 

A picture of Hannah Davis, one of the victims from the original case, hung up on the wall behind you ends up giving the Unsub's whole act away. Still, it doesn't make a lot of sense for Hannah to have hung up a picture of herself in her own house, so the team splits to cover both the boyfriend's house and Hannah's. 

It's just a precautionary measure. Spencer knows exactly where you are.

"Oh, Dr. Reid. Idiots interrogated me about once or twice as a witness and he was a real boom with the ladies at the precinct back then. Let me tell you, if I had his charm, I wouldn't have had to resort to killing couples to get off." 

The Unsub lets go of your hair with no warning and your head hangs down as if you were a rag doll. You find it in yourself to hum uninterestedly at his sick attempt of joking. 

You don't think you've ever felt your heart beating as hard as it is right now. And when you tune out the sound of the man talking and rambling about God knows what, you realize that the thumping you hear in your ears isn't your heart. That maybe the creaking on the stairs isn't a product of your delirious mind conjuring up a sequence where you magically get saved from the bad guy.

You sigh when the man behind you yanks you back again. This time, you feel the need to put on a facade. Make it look like you’ve come to terms with it; if this is how you go, then so be it. The knife on your throat makes your heart rate pick back up, but you don't whimper. You wonder if you're trying to keep it together for yourself or because you are ashamed of the image your team will have of you after this if you don't.  

You hear Morgan kick the door down. Usually, you're on the other side of this. You help talk an Unsub down, and then make fun of Morgan after for kicking the door instead of opening it like a civilized FBI agent. Talking them down doesn't always work. Sometimes, you end up with another casualty added to the case. In the worst outcome, you end up with two more. You're not as unafraid as you thought. Please, God, you think. This cannot be the end. 

Morgan screaming at the Unsub to put the knife down falls in deaf ears. It's only white noise to you now, and maybe that stems from the fact that you have been held hostage for what felt like days with no food, no water, no sun, and you feel so close to it being over. Soon, you'll be on a hospital bed, eating food that only the thought of makes you feel nauseated but even that is better than this. Maybe Spencer will sneak you a treat. Or maybe that's wishful thinking. 

As you're dwelling on what the consequences of him potentially hearing your confession might be, you hear a gun go off. You don't even react when the pressure exerted on the right side of your neck, the weight of the arm holding you in place suddenly fades away as your head falls forward. 

You hear the thud of a body hit the ground. Maybe we can still be friends, you try to reason. Spencer drops his smoking gun to a side as Morgan tries to untie your hands behind your back. Maybe he'll reciprocate, or is that too much of a delusion to have even in your incoherent state? Spencer holds you in his arms when you have nothing pushing you back against the chair anymore. 

"I'm sorry," you sob into his shoulder, not an ounce of strength remaining in your body. You were not made for this. Not made for withstanding this kind of torment. If you mean the torment of being kidnapped, or the torment that awaits you once you're not hysterically sobbing in front of the man you're not ready to admit you love, you're not sure. "I'm so sorry." 

"Hey," he says, tenderly. You don't know how much time it's gone by since the last time you saw him. The only thing you know is that this kind of gentleness is now unfamiliar after harsh hands engraved themselves all over you. "Hey, it's okay. What are you sorry for?" 

"I'm sorry," you say, worn out, the words echoing around your head like a DVD screensaver. You then register his question. "For saying that." 

You don't specify what. It's not necessary; it never has been with Spencer. Somehow, you both know exactly what the other means, with just a glance, a brush of an arm when somehow you find yourself trapped in his orbit once again. 

"It's alright," is it? Part of him wonders if being with you might have become even more unattainable now than it was before. If you'll push him away because the memory of the circumstances of your confession is too painful to bear. His hand hovers in the air before he finds a moment where he feels like you won't get up and run away from him if he touches you. You shudder, but ultimately stay right where you are. "Don't cry. You're okay." 

Are we okay? You have to ask. But maybe right now is not the moment. Maybe right now all you want is to be held before everything goes down the drain. You've hit rock bottom, and everyone probably sees it too. Spencer just wishes you find it in your heart to let him be the one to help you out of there. You don't need to yell for help if you have him – the most minuscule mutter of your burdens will be enough to have him snapping into action. He knows what it's like to give every sign that you could ever think of and still have them ignored. He isn't about to let you go through that. 

"We're going to go home now, yeah?" You nod. When you come to it, your fingers ache from holding onto his shirt so hard you want to apologize to him in case you had hurt him. You don't find the words. The rise and fall of his chest had lulled you into the deepest, calmest sleep you have managed to get in a while, even before the kidnapping happened at all, and in this moment, you almost swear that it'll all be okay. 

When you wake up, there's a steady hold in your hand as the ambulance rocks back and forth. 

"God, they need to get that street fixed," you say. You don't recognize your voice, the rasp in your throat being the only thing to confirm that it is indeed you speaking. It takes you a moment to realize that the hand that holds yours firmly is Spencer's. 

You'd be lying if you said you weren't scared to look at him. What would his expression be like? Disgust? Perhaps Morgan made him ride with you until they got to the ambulance. Perhaps he offered to do so because he wanted to do something nice for you before he completely tore your heart to shreds by saying he doesn't like you back. Perhaps-

"We're almost there." The way his voice manages to shut every deprecating thought in your head should be studied. As a reflex, you turn your head to look at him. You wish you hadn't, because the way he looks at you like you're a masterpiece – a rather flawed one, even if he doesn't think so, isn't helping the ache in your chest. Your first thought is that it's awe, but then you think you might want to get that get that checked out when you get to the hospital. 

You barely notice his hand shifting around yours, until it holds your wrist, his thumb pressed softly but firm against your pulse point. He can probably feel the way your heart quickens when he leans in to take a look at your face. 

"Does the light hurt your eyes?" You nod, sluggishly. He turns over to look at the paramedic who sits next to you. You feel a little bit of relief at the fact that no one's hovering over you. It means you're okay. It's all minor. And mostly psychological. Spencer starts listing studies and tests they apparently need to run on you, and while you love the way he rambles, you don't think you can keep up with him without getting a stroke in the process right now.

You doze off again. God, you needed that. You hadn't closed your eyes for more than a couple of seconds during all of your stay in that house. Stay. You don't know what else to call it. 

Emily stayed with you while they checked you out and in her words, it was like you were moving on autopilot. It was unnerving, but the doctors had informed her that there was nothing wrong besides a couple of nasty bruises you would have to spend extra concealer on. 

Spencer offered to stay overnight. One can only imagine how unsettling it was for him to lift his head from his book to see you sitting up like a spring at 2:45 am. 

"Hi," he says, his voice a hushed breath as he sits on the edge of your bed, smiling awkwardly at you. There's no one else in the room, but it's like if any of you speaks louder than a whisper, the bubble you're in will burst. Your chest heaves with hurried breaths, and you rub your eyes.

"Hey." You're already dreading this conversation. Is there any way to go back to before you were kidnapped and forced to confess you're in love with your best friend/coworker? Anyhow, you don't want to stay in the dark anymore and hurry to speak directly to the point. "I don't want things to be weird between us." 

"We haven't even talked for a minute, what do you mean?" 

You let out a short, humorless laugh, which could be easily just interpreted as a hum. You scramble over the clutter that is your mind right now to find a topic that will help you evade the awkwardness. "... Why are you still awake?" 

He didn't expect you to ask that, if the way his gaze drifts to the side is anything to go by. 

"The book was very... interesting, to say the least," he blatantly lies. You don't know if he's a bad liar or if you're just an expert in the Spencer Reid sciences. 

"I'm sure it was." 

You don't speak for a minute. A minute and 33 seconds, he counts, and you're heading strong for a second one when his voice breaks the uncomfortable atmosphere. 

"Listen, I..." 

"I know you heard it." Everyone probably did. And it'll be less humiliating if you act like you don't wish you could just crawl out of your skin and hide. "I'm sorry. I just didn't want to die." 

"I'm glad you said it." 

You don't know if he's glad you said it because otherwise you would have probably bled out before they even got to the house or because the fog that used to sit atop of whatever weird tension you both seemed to develop whenever you were the last ones in the conference room, paired to interview a witness, or sharing the big couch on the jet, is finally cleared up. 

You can't lie and say you're not relieved you did, too.

"I'm glad too," you say, mostly to yourself. Where do you go from here? Spencer knows a lot of things, none of which seem useful at the moment. He's almost tempted to bring Morgan in for moral support; otherwise, he's about to perform the worst ridicule he's ever had the pleasure to star in. 

You wait for him to speak. He doesn't, and instead stares at the bedsheets that look like their sole existence is an offense by the way his brow creases. 

"You look like something's bothering you," you say, tentatively testing the waters. Can you already joke with him, or is it too soon to pretend like everything's okay? "Is it not a nice pattern?" 

He smiles for a split second. You didn't realize the air had been lacking from your lungs until this very second. "The pattern is geometrically off. If you look at it closely, you'll see that the diamonds aren't quite aligned properly. It seems minor, yet it's still evident enough to unconsciously make the pattern less appealing to the eyes. I suppose that's what you get with mass-produced and machine-made products nowadays."

You smile warmly at him. Only then it's that your chest tightens as the realization of just how much you missed just hearing him talk about things that would have never even crossed your mind in a thousand years, dawns upon you.

"Sorry. I forgot my magnifying glass at home." 

"I see you didn't left the wit back there." You smile at him. It feels foreign. Just a second ago you were avoiding looking at him like the mere action of doing so would make you burst into flames on the spot. Your smile is like fuel for the burning courage consuming his insides as he opens his mouth again. "I... I think- No, sorry. I mean, I am certain that..." Okay, Spencer. Great way to start. He tries to gather his thoughts, which proves to be a much harder challenge when they're all a jumbled mess. 

"You like your coworker too?" 

"Yeah," he says. His lips curl into a warm, genuine smile that does wonders at speaking of the deep affection that harbors in the depths of his soul. One only reserved for you. He's quick to repress it because he doesn't want to seem stupid. 

You don't let him throw you off your feet. "Dr. Reid, can you wait until I don't feel and look like a bus just ran over me to confess your unconditional and undying love for me?" 

He wouldn't have expected a different answer from you. The confidence you wear on the outside is a mask for the way he makes you melt like a bar of chocolate in warm weather on the inside. You don't need him to answer to that. He touches your hair, and you turn to look at the bag of skittles placed on the bedside table, and you know he'll gladly wait until you don't feel like you've been stripped of all your defenses. Until you feel like yourself again. 

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

I'll Show You Just How Sad I Am

a raymond smith x reader quick little blurb, just 1k words

there's mentions of smut in this so read at your own risk <33 who knows, maybe raymond will make a more regular occurrence on my blog over the next few weeks

here's my masterlist in case you want to check out my other works

"Should be the door to your left, honey."

Your voice is sweet in his ear, a pleasant distraction from the run-down building Mickey had sent him off to. It's smelly and dirty and even though he knows he should most likely feel pity, he's still just as disgusted. He'd be with you in a heartbeat if he could, safe and clean in the comfort of your home.

"Mickey should've sent a cleaning lady", he grunts as he knocks at the door, your chuckle almost making up for the very truthful, thinly veiled anger behind his words.

"Mickey wanted you because you're the best", you recite - you've told him often enough by now that it really is reciting. "And because he trusts you to keep this clean."

Which is easier said than done.

Twenty minutes later, the whole thing's anything but clean.

Sure, he'd very much accomplished bringing Laura home - but he'd also left a dead teenager in a puddle of blood about two stories down from where he should've been sitting.

"Left, left!", you call into the mic. Even though you're far from panicking, you're still much too loud, your voice flowing from his earpiece and stinging his brain.

"I'm trying, darling", he grunts back, breathless and panting as he pushes on, one foot in front of the other on the pavement of some random South London streets.

"I know, I know", you sigh. He isn't sure whether he's actually hearing you chew on your lip or imagining it, but he doesn't really have the capacity to think too much about it at the moment. "He's right in front of you. You've got him, Ray."

Yeah... The only problem is that what you must be seeing as a moving, flashing dot on a digital map, he's seeing as a bunch of teenagers trying to look intimidating. Probably feeling intimidating too. God, this is exactly why he didn't want the job. He isn't made for the fucking low-classed youth.

"You've seen enough?", that bastard of a boy spits at him. "Now I've got backup."

Raymond steadies his hands on his thighs and takes a deep breath in.

"You couldn't back up a phone, you cunt", he rasps, his erratic heartbeat slowly starting to calm back down.

"Raymond", you scold. "That's a child."

"That's a bastard", he mutters, before he finally straightens and tries his best at a somewhat mannered bargain. He's really only here for the fucking phone. He needs those pictures, then he's gone. He doesn't want to leave more unnecessary corpses to take care of.

So he offers them money. Which is something that they should definitely take, just judging by how they look. Plus a visit to a very good psychiatrist. But they don't. It's the same fucking bastard who's taken the pictures in the first case and got him into this mess that refuses - and in such a really stupid way, too: "How 'bout you give us that bag and be gone anyway?" - god, even you let out a choked up laugh at that, your breath carrying through the mic and into Ray's earpiece.

He drops his chin to his chest and shakes his head. What a fucking bunch of idiots. Goddamn it. He can feel his blood boil, hot and hotter.

"It's bait", you mutter, your voice low. "Calm down, love. You've got a machine gun. Use it."

Yeah, fucking hell, it's bait, he knows that. It doesn't change the way he's feeling. But your voice in his ear at least brings him back down to reality.

"Right", he grunts, then he swipes his coat to the side, closes his hand around the grip of the gun and steadies his fingertips against the trigger. He pulls it out in one swift motion, points it at the sky and shoots. For a good three seconds longer than necessary.

"Just like that", you breathe, your grin dripping down onto your voice and melting into his ear like honey. You've really got to stop that, he actually loses his focus for half a moment there and in his line of work, next time that means sure death.

The entire bunch of teenage boys flees - as expected - and in less than a minute, Raymond has the phone pressed into his palm.

"God, sometimes I really hate that I'm not there", you sigh, something in the background ruffling, probably as you shift into a more comfortable position on your chair. "Kinda wish I could've seen you."

"Run after a little cunt like that? You didn't miss anything, darling", he says, turning his head left and right before he strides back towards the car, his steps long and purposeful.

"Turn the corner here", you mutter, your voice taking on that specific tone that tells him there's a lazy grin licking at your lips. He can just imagine how you're looking (especially now that he has the time and freedom of mind for it) - one foot propped up on those bar stools that you'd bought for the kitchen, your equipment organised on the table top in front of you, his shirt hanging from your shoulders and pooling in your lap, your head tilted back and your eyes half-closed as you talk to him.

"I don't mean the little idiot", you go on, undeterred even as he narrowly avoids a trash can. Fuck, you really distract him too much. "I'm talking about you. God, you sounded so hot I wanted to jump at you. Actually scratch that, I still do."

He lets out a chuckle as he spots the car, his steps slowing. He should hurry up, he knows that. But he's got you in his ear, talking in that sweet voice of yours about just how much he affects you. He can't pass up on that.

"You're a little fuckin' minx, darling", he mutters with a grin, throwing a glance over his shoulder to check if there's any possibility he could be overheard. He doesn't necessarily feel like making your conversation public, even as you hum into the microphone.

"Yeah, but yours", you mumble. It sounds like you're almost proud of that. "Here's an idea, love: Get back home before I finish my shower and I'll show you just how sad I am that I couldn't watch you."

[johnwickb1tsch]

lessons in anatomy XI

a yandere art professor John Wick x drawing model muse! reader AU... (also featuring Matt from River's Edge. If you haven't seen the movie that's ok, I will fill in the gaps as we go...) warnings: dark adult themes, violence, sex, drugs, yandere shit. plz don't read if u can't handle it ->chapter map

XI.

You drift in and out of consciousness. 

You are being carried, and then you are being tossed onto a hard surface. Dull pain bites through you as you land. You look around, recognizing the interior of a van, various coiled cables hung up on the sides and trunks of something stacked around. Something sharp digs into your back, but you can't move. 

It's easier to sleep. 

You close your eyes. But then you open them again, because…loud noises. 

Shouting. 

Fighting. 

What you see through heavy lidded eyes must be a dream. The violence is…unspeakable. A dark whirlwind topples the impossibly monolithic behemoth that is Samson. He falls like a redwood. The earth should shake when he lands. Then the shadow makes short work of Layne too, dodging a punch, twisting the young man up until you hear a wet pop. 

The last thing you remember is an animal face hovering over you. You think of Anubis administering to the deceased in the afterlife. 

Are you dead?

-You wake up on a relatively soft mattress with sheets pulled up to your chin. The first thing you see is a motionless black wolf staring at you with blank eyes. You start, trying to sit up, but your limbs weigh about a thousand pounds.

A moment later, you realize it's just a mask. Your lone wolf’s mask, in fact. How the fuck…

You don't remember going with him? You remember…oh god.

You remember Samson hitting Matt. 

Everything that happened after that…is pretty fucking fuzzy. But somehow, you are back in your apartment, in your bed. 

You whimper, settling back into the pillow, trying to remember. 

It's all a blank.

You lay there and stare at the ceiling for a good ten minutes before you even think to look for your phone. Miraculously, it's right there in the night stand, right next to that ominous mask. 

You reach out to snatch your phone, like the lupine headgear might come to life and bite you. 

And yet…he wasn't the one who tried to hurt you, was he? 

There are several texts from your friends demanding where you are. Somehow, you already answered them: Went home, I'm fine. 

Did you send that text? Or…did someone else, so your friends wouldn't come looking for you? 

The thought sends another wave of uneasiness through you. 

And what happened to Matt?

As though the very thought summons him your phone rings. You’re holding the device in your hand, but it still makes you jump. As though you’ve forgotten how to answer the damn thing you stare at it stupidly almost long enough to miss the call. Finally you slide your finger across the screen, lifting it to your ear. 

“Hello?” Even to you, you sound like hell.

“Y/n? Thank God!”

“Matt? Where are you?”

“I think I'm still at the warehouse,” he says, sounding bewildered. “I just woke up. Everyone's gone.”

“Oh.” You can tell just by looking at the window that it’s late afternoon. 

“Y/n…what happened? Are you ok?”

“I…don't remember anything,” you admit. “I woke up at home. I think…I'm fine.” You're sore, but you don't feel like you need to go to the hospital for an examination. 

You’re not sure why you decide to leave out the calling card of the wolf mask. 

There is silence on the other end of the phone, as Matt tries to suss this out with a brain that is, you assume, as drug-fogged as yours. You also can't help but think he's flabbergasted that his friends didn’t do something terrible to you. 

“Y/n…” He doesn't seem to know what else to say, and the silence drags on. Finally he settles on, “I'm glad you're ok.”

“Thanks. Are you ok?” It can't have felt good to get hit by his huge friend like that. 

“I guess so.” Another long silence stretches, yet neither of you seem to want to hang up the phone. “Y/n…what are you going to do?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Are you…going to tell the police?”

“I don't know,” you answer quietly. You wait for him to ask you to have mercy on his friends, to forgive them, to say something stupid like they were just playing around. 

“Well…it’s up to you. I've got your back either way.” He surprises you with this. It seems like he grew up a lot just in the past twelve hours.

“Thanks, Matt. Can you get home ok?”

“Yeah. I'll be fine.”

“Be careful. Your friends don't seem like they're too happy with you.”

“They’re not my friends anymore, y/n. Catch you later?” 

Well, you'll be damned. He finally gets it.

“Yeah, sure.”

You hang up, clutching the phone to your chest like a teddy bear.

Should you tell the police? Drugging you and Matt was surely some sort of crime. What would you tell them though? That you were at a party and don’t remember anything? You're in a brain fog, unable to work out what you want to do. Mostly, right now? You want to sleep some more, so you do.

Hours later you finally manage to get out of bed, hobbling stiffly to the kitchen. All you have the energy to make is toast. You wrap yourself in a blanket and turn on the tv. You slept so late that it's already time for the evening news.

You freeze at the sight on the screen. 

The affectedly sincere voice of the newscaster narrates, “Firefighters responded to a vehicle fire on the waterfront late last night. No one was found injured and authorities are still searching for the owner of the van.” The camera pans to show the charred remains of the vehicle with the muddy river rolling in the background. 

There are remnants of paint on the side of the van. Or at least, different shades and sheens of charred black. 

You're certain, to the marrow of your bones, that it's the van Matt and his band mates use to haul their gear around. 

His band mates, Layne, and Samson.

TBC...

___

->chapter map pinterest board/ photo credits

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

was reading through your lovely analysis of leona-malleus-kalim spouse expectations and wondered if you'd feel up to writing your thoughts on idia... he's a bit difficult for me to categorize socially since he's both a heir to a cursed dynasty (with all the implications) and just some guy (in the average public's eye). also the hardest (maybe?) out of the cast for me to imagine in a relationship at all. if it was to happen, how do you think it could go?

[ The series: Malleus / Leona / Kalim ]

As I say in the disclaimers of my Malleus post: "[...] in canon there are very specific in-universe rules and expectations laid out [...] so these are what I will be referring to. I also want to emphasize that the final traits I discuss in this post do NOT reflect [Idia's] personal tastes or views. [...] The traits I will be bringing up are based on what I believe the lore implies are the desirable traits for those marrying into the [Shroud] family.

Please keep that in mind while you read; this is not meant to invalidate Idia shippers!!

I feel like there would definitely be an unspoken pressure for Idia to marry and produce a child. As I said in my Malleus post on this topic, this would be regardless of what Idia himself desires. He is practically obligated to have a blood-related child that is a mage due to his life circumstances and the… “family business”, shall we say. The Shrouds have a unique magic that is hereditary (Gate to (the) Underworld), which seems to open and close the gates to Tartarus, where the most dangerous of the Phantoms in S.T.Y.X.'s facility reside. The implication seems to be that, without the UM, they may not be able to protect the world from these dangerous beings. The Shroud line also heads S.T.Y.X. itself as the director and the eldest child is raised to assume the position so the organization can continue its valuable blot research. This was the case for Idia's father, who succeeded the previous director, Aidne (Idia's grandma). Similarly, Idia is set to succeed his father. I'd imagine his own child would have the same fate mapped out for them. Again, NOT because Idia would want that for them, but "for the greater good".

I'm not certain if there would really be any other requirements other than... "continuing the bloodline", for lack of a better term?? We don't know much about the Shroud family's operations, what their role in the larger Jupiter Conglomerate is, or how the current Jupiters feel about the Shrouds. I do think that Idia's parents wouldn't be super strict about their son's spouse; they do demonstrate care for his wellbeing and, as Idia describes them, they care more about results than how those results are achieved, so... If it all ends the same anyway, it might not really matter to them who Idia ends up with so long as that person meets the bare minimum requirements. Maybe the Jupiters would be pickier about who is accepted into their prestigious family??? But I could also see them not caring that much because I believe the Shrouds are a branch family and not part of the main family.

Now, what would the minimum requirements be in the first place? We don't exactly have a list of expectations or traits that Mama Shroud had to hit before being taken in as a Shroud. She happens to also work at S.T.Y.X. as their Chief Engineer, so maybe a candidate would have to have technical know-how or otherwise be able to contribute to S.T.Y.X.'s research efforts?? I don't think this is concrete though, because it's entirely possible that it's a coincidence and she + Papa Shroud met and fell in love while she was already working for S.T.Y.X. and things just ended up working out for the both of them since they work so closely as-is.

I think a large part of marrying into the Shrouds would be... whoever it is, they'd have to be okay with (or willing to adapt to) isolation and gloominess. They'd be exposed to S.T.Y.X.'s work and would be expected to contain those secrets. It's also very possible that they would be shackled to the Island of Lamentation for most of their life and rarely allowed to leave (implied in Idia's post-OB flashback). Not only that, but they'd constantly be around Idia and the other members of his family (mostly his father), who aren't exactly the most chipper people around. Idia's spouse would also have to come to terms with raising a child in that kind of environment. That could wear away at a person mentally and emotionally. Mama Shroud deals with it fine enough because she's a very bubbly, loving, and supportive person. Her personality is a protective factor against the gloom and doom of the place.

I honestly believe a lot of it comes down to knowing what they're signing up for. To marry into the Shroud family is a lifelong commitment. It means turning away from the world, toiling away in the shadows, and submitting to the idea that this same fate will befall their child. I can only imagine what goes down in genetic counseling where the medical mage has to spell it the Shroud curse very explicitly to the spouse... Their child always has to be around blot, because otherwise the curse will start to feed on the child's energy instead, which puts their life at risk. They won't get to decide what they want to be when they grow up, because their fate is already set in stone from the moment of their birth. Revelations like this might be soul-crushing to a parent, and they have to be prepared for all of this. Like, the Shrouds may be happy to have a new member to their family but life as usual for them would not be so for the spouse, at least not until they are able to fully adjust and accept all of this. I speculated that Idia's parents went through a similar arc as what I described here; that's largely where I am drawing my ideas here from.

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Me and the guy in the aisle seat shift out of our places as you waddle down the cramped airplane walkway. Your T-shirt and shorts leave little to be imagined in your near-due state but it was much better than being hot.

It was our final vacation before baby hopefully comes next week. It was a great time on the beach but the plane ride is leaving a sour note.

Unfortunately, we couldn't get the asshole in the aisle seat to swap seats, a pair in front of us are constantly leaning back in their chairs, yhe air conditioning doesn't look to be functioning and it seems like every other minute we hit a bout of turbulence.

You slowly sit down in your window seat after making the man stifle an irritated groan. I lean back to go to sleep but I feel you grasp my thigh and lean up to my ear.

"Don't..." You breathe suddenly. "Don't freak out...I think my water broke in the bathroom."

It's hard not to not jump out of my seat. I look straight down at your bump sitting between your thighs. A vague shade of brown covered your inner thighs.

"We should tell some-"

"No! I can hold for the rest of the flight," you look down at your tensed bump. "I'll-I'll tell you if it becomes to much..."

"I can last...I think I can last," you whisper through tight lips, seemingly to yourself.

I can't argue with you, it's your body and you know best. I try to relax back in my seat but out of the corner of my eye I see a fresh trail of fluid trail out of your shorts and down your thigh. Anxiety management isn't one of my strong suits.

Just seven hours till we land.

(P.s. I'm glad you seem to be enjoying these)

I can make it. I can make it. I said to myself over and over. A mantra. A promise. A desperate and hopeful plea.

Earlier that day I hadn’t given any thought to the odd cramps that had tightened across my belly as we packed up our suitcase, or to the spasms shooting up my spine as we waited in line for security scans before entering departures. I’d thought the building pressure between my hips was just because of the change in altitude or the baby pressing on my bladder. Yes people warned us about going away so close to the due date, but neither of us really expected the baby to arrive early, and especially not on the plane. No, this baby was not going to be born on a plane! I was grateful my waters had broken in the bathroom at least, it gave me an opportunity to clean myself up before returning to my seat. Not that it made any difference, the constant leaking between my legs was already dampening the cushion.

Without my waters the contractions struck with more vigour and bite. After yet another wave of twisting pain rippling my belly, I pressed the button on the tv screen embedded in the seat in front bringing up the map of our journey and the estimated time of arrival - 5hrs 57mins. I exhaled heavily, so far so good. Every time a contraction struck I would simply breathe my way through it, my hand softly rubbing at the tightness squeezing my belly. I could feel your eyes on me, watching me like a hawk. I knew you liked to sleep on planes but there was no way that was happening now. Trying to stay calm and still I breathed slowly, deeply, steadily. I can make it.

~•~

I don’t know when you started holding my hand through each wave of pain but I clung onto it like a lifeline. My body temperature was rising and I was shifting awkwardly in my seat; the broken air conditioning and the cramped aeroplane seats were making me feel trapped.

“Babe… do we need to maybe tell the air stewards-”

“No!….. hooooo…. It’s fine it’s just-hooooo…. they’re getting a little bit stronger n-now that’s all. But I’m fine. Really…” I breathed heavily, trying to reassure us both right now.

“But they’re getting closer together.” You worried.

“I know that.” I snapped at you under my breath, but when the contraction released me my anger disappeared and I saw the look on your face. “I’m sorry darling. I know you’re only looking out for us. But I’m fine, we’re going to make it. Four and a half hours to go. Babies aren’t born that quickly. We’ll be fine.”

I could tell by your expression that you did not feel as confident, and to be honest, neither did I. But there was no use in both of us panicking. And what could they even do? We were above water for the majority of our flight, there was nowhere for the plane to land anyway. The next contraction struck and I hissed through my teeth. I twisted in my seat so I faced the window, one leg folded beneath my large and contracting belly, the other firmly on the floor. “C-can you rub my back p-please?” I grit over one shoulder towards you and place my palms against the cream plastic of the aeroplane interior.

Although the pressure of your hands on my back and hips felt wonderful, it barely touched the side of the roaring pain splitting my pelvis in two. I curled over my bump as much as I could in the tight space and breathed through it as much as I could. But the pressure, the pressure was killing me. My hips were open in this position, a move driven purely by instinct, and I could feel the baby’s head deep and low and pressing even further down. I clamped my mouth shut tight as my body rocked forward and backward slightly, your hands rubbing up and down my lower back and pressing into the back of my hips under the waistband of my shorts. I took a long, deep exhale as the pain peaked and when I released it I found my body bearing down at the end of the breath. My heart froze at the possibility this baby wasn’t going to wait til we landed. I breathed again, slowly, purposely, and tried to ignore any call from my body to push… but when I got to the end of the breath every muscle in my womb was squeezing forcefully downwards and I could feel the baby sink lower and lower.

“Oh babe…” I whispered. “I think I’m pushing?!”

“What?! No, you can’t be pushing. We still have 3 more hours to go!”

Dearest Anon, these are perfect! Thank you so much! All the different scenarios you’ve given me are just…. 👌 this one might be my fav, if you wanna continue it in the next ask… 👀

[jmagnabo92]

Sirius Vs Remus last interaction with Harry in POA

With all this conversation about who's the better parent, the better guide to Harry, I'd like to address the LAST MOMENT in POA with Sirius vs Remus and WHY Harry ends up closer to Sirius and it has NOTHING to do with his 'status' as godfather and everything to do with their behavior directly after Harry discovers their relationship to his father.

Long Post under the cut.

First, Remus' last moment with Harry:

A shadow fell across them and they looked up to see a very bleary-eyed Hagrid, mopping his sweaty face with one of his tablecloth-sized handkerchiefs and beaming down at them. "Know I shouldn' feel happy, after wha' happened las' night," he said. "I mean, Black escapin' again, an, everythin' -- but guess what?" "What?" they said, pretending to look curious. "Beaky! He escaped! He's free! Bin celebratin' all night!" "That's wonderful!" said Hermione, giving Ron a reproving look because he looked as though he was close to laughing. "Yeah. . . can't've tied him up properly," said Hagrid, gazing happily out over the grounds. "I was worried this mornin', mind. . . thought he mighta met Professor Lupin on the grounds, but Lupin says he never ate anythin' las' night. . . . " "What?" said Harry quickly. "Blimey, haven' yeh heard?" said Hagrid, his smile fading a little. He lowered his voice, even though there was nobody in sight. "Er -- Snape told all the Slytherins this mornin'. . . . Thought everyone'd know by now. . . Professor Lupin's a werewolf, see. An' he was loose on the grounds las' night. . . . He's packin' now, o' course. " "He's packing?" said Harry, alarmed. "Why?" "Leavin', isn' he?" said Hagrid, looking surprised that Harry had to ask. "Resigned firs' thing this mornin'. Says he can't risk it happenin again."

Let's stop here - I included this part because it tells us something EXTREMEMLY important - Remus was going to LEAVE without even talking to Harry. He had NO intention of talking to Harry or explaining what happened. He had NO intention of following up on their relationship and build on it - he was just going to leave after ALL that.

Harry scrambled to his feet. "I'm going to see him," he said to Ron and Hermione. "But if he's resigned --" "¨C doesn't sound like there's anything we can do --" "I don't care. I still want to see him. I'll meet you back here."

This tells us that Harry wanted a relationship with Remus, and expected to have one. Only for Remus to disappoint him.

Lupin's office door was open. He had already packed most of his things. The Grindylow's empty tank stood next to his battered old suitcase, which was open and nearly full. Lupin was bending over something on his desk and looked up only when Harry knocked on the door. "I saw you coming," said Lupin, smiling. He pointed to the parchment he had been poring over. It was the Marauder's Map. "I just saw Hagrid," said Harry. "And he said you'd resigned. It's not true, is it?" "I'm afraid it is," said Lupin. He started opening his desk drawers and taking out the contents.

Here we have proof that Remus knows that HARRY would reach out to him - yet, he doesn't reciprocate. He sees Harry's upset about it and he just ... keeps packing. Using the Map to see Harry do just that.

"Why?" said Harry. "The Ministry of Magic don't think you were helping Sirius, do they?" Lupin crossed to the door and closed it behind Harry. "No. Professor Dumbledore managed to convince Fudge that I was trying to save your lives. " He sighed. "That was the final straw for Severus. I think the loss of the Order of Merlin hit him hard. So he -- er -- accidentally let slip that I am a werewolf this morning at breakfast." "You're not leaving just because of that!" said Harry. Lupin smiled wryly. "This time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving from parents. . . . They will not want a werewolf teaching their children, Harry. And after last night, I see their point. I could have bitten any of you. . . . That must never happen again." "You're the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had!" said Harry. "Don't go!"

Here Lupin simply answers the question matter-of-factly and in fact, seems to expect that Harry would be affronted on his behalf. What's interesting here is that Lupin KNOWS that Harry has formed this bond with him and still makes what happened about him. Even though he ENDANGERED the kids ALL YEAR, here he focuses on the night before which was the most dangerous moment, and while he's doing the responsible thing but resigning and making it about the parents reaction to his condition feels like a ploy to make Harry feel sympathetic towards him. He didnot want him to feel like he screwed him over by not telling him about his parents, Sirius (and hiding something if it Sirius HAD been after him would've gotten him killed), and by slipping up the night before.

Lupin shook his head and didn't speak. He carried on emptying his drawers. Then, while Harry was trying to think of a good argument to make him stay, Lupin said, "From what the headmaster told me this morning, you saved a lot of lives last night, Harry. If I'm proud of anything I've done this year, it's how much you've learned. . . . Tell me about your Patronus." "How d'you know about that?" said Harry, distracted. "What else could have driven the Dementors back?" Harry told Lupin what had happened. When he'd finished, Lupin was smiling again. "Yes, your father was always a stag when he transformed," he said. "You guessed right. . . that's why we called him Prongs."

Okay. Here's Lupin's opportunity to talk to Harry - an orphan and his best friends' kid - about James and he doesn't take it. He just said - oh yeah, that's what he turned into.

Lupin threw his last few books into his case, closed the desk drawers, and turned to look at Harry. "Here -- I brought this from the Shrieking Shack last night," he said, handing Harry back the Invisibility Cloak. "And. . . " He hesitated, then held out the Marauder's Map too. "I am no longer your teacher, so I don't feel guilty about giving you back this as well. It's no use to me, and I daresay you, Ron, and Hermione will find uses for it." Harry took the map and grinned. "You told me Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs would've wanted to lure me out of school. . . you said they'd have thought it was funny." "And so we would have," said Lupin, now reaching down to close his case. "I have no hesitation in saying that James would have been highly disappointed if his son had never found any of the secret passages out of the castle."

Here, this feels very manipulative. Of course, if he didn't give the map/cloak back to Harry, James and Sirius would be pissed - that's his birthright. But It's pretty obvious that just like the other times that Remus uses James against Harry (Like when he discovers the Map - months previously - and he says 'I don't think your {dead} parents would appreciate you gambling their sacrifices for a bag of magic tricks'), that this time, he's using him to stay in Harry's good eyes. Especially given his parting statement.

There was a knock on the door. Harry hastily stuffed the Marauder's Map and the Invisibility Cloak into his pocket. It was Professor Dumbledore. He didn't look surprised to see Harry there. "Your carriage is at the gates, Remus," he said. "Thank You, Headmaster. " Lupin picked up his old suitcase and the empty Grindylow tank. "Well -- good-bye, Harry," he said, smiling. "It has been a real pleasure teaching you. I feel sure we'll meet again sometime. Headmaster, there is no need to see me to the gates, I can manage. . . . " Harry had the impression that Lupin wanted to leave as quickly as possible. "Good-bye, then, Remus," said Dumbledore soberly. Lupin shifted the Grindylow tank slightly so that he and Dumbledore could shake hands. Then, with a final nod to Harry and a swift smile, Lupin left the office.

Now, finally, the end of his last moment in POA - note that he says goodbye, says he was pleased to teach Harry, and THEN SAYS:

"I feel sure we'll meet again, sometime."

What does this tell us? That Lupin - Despite being around for a WHOLE YEAR & creating a relationship with Harry - DOESN'T WANT to continue the relationship. He "feels like" they'll see each other - he doesn't say anything about 'I'll write you' or 'you can write me' - he basically makes it SO FREAKING CLEAR that he's done. He came into Harry's life and plans to disappear. There's no excuse for this (especially given book 4) and THIS is exactly why Remus isn't a "Parent" - he's not a "honorary godfather" and he's TERRIBLE.

Harry can tell in this interaction that he's just a professor, just Lupin, nothing else.

It just makes it obvious that he doesn't really care for Harry, so he wouldn't be a parent and doesn't deserve all of that 'Lupin was a better option', Lupin 'should've been godfather', etc.

***

Now, Sirius' last moment with Harry:

Harry picked up the letter. It was addressed to him. He ripped open the letter, and shouted, "It's from Sirius!" "What?" said Ron and Hermione excitedly. "Read it aloud!" Dear Harry, I hope this finds you before you reach your aunt and uncle. I don't know whether they're used to owl post. Buckbeak and I are in hiding. I won't tell you where, in case this owl falls into the wrong hands. I have some doubt about his reliability, but he is the best I could find, and he did seem eager for the job. I believe the Dementors are still searching for me, but they haven't a hope of finding me here. I am planning to allow some Muggles to glimpse me soon, a long way from Hogwarts, so that the security on the castle will be lifted. There is something I never got around to telling you during our brief meeting. It was I who sent you the Firebolt --

Let's stop here. First, Sirius makes sure to send Harry the letter when he's alone. I bet he's thinking Harry's going to do exactly what he does with regards to Aunt/Uncle because he KNOWS based on Harry's quick acceptance of moving in with him & the runaway situation at the start of the book.

Then, he immediately tells him that he's safe because he knows that Harry was worried about him enough to go through time, so he assures him that he's fine.

Next, he tells him that he's thinking about him and the affect of everything that's happened and how he plans to fix it SPECIFICALLY so that HARRY is safer after he put him at risk. He takes responsibility and does whatever he can to make up for it.

And while Remus acknowledged that he was at fault, he also put it off on 'Snape let it slip and I have no choice'.

THEN knowing that Harry was probably wondering about the Firebolt - he tells him what he did. Proving that he's been watching over and caring for Harry even from a distance.

"Ha!" said Hermione triumphantly. "See! I told you it was from him!" "Yes, but he hadn't jinxed it, had he?" said Ron. "Ouch!" The tiny owl now hooting happily in his hand, had nibbled one of his fingers in what it seemed to think was an affectionate way. Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your name but told them to take the gold from my own Gringotts vault. Please consider it as thirteen birthdays' worth of presents from your godfather. I would also like to apologize for the fright I think I gave you that night last year when you left your uncle's house. I had only hoped to get a glimpse of you before starting my journey north, but I think the sight of me alarmed you. I am enclosing something else for you, which I think will make your next year at Hogwarts more enjoyable. If ever you need me, send word. Your owl will find me. I'll write again soon. Sirius

Now, for the rest of the letter.

Sirius explains about the Firebolt and how DESPITE being in prison, he immediately wanted to make up for missing 13 years of Harry's like buying the Firebolt (which is noteworthy because Remus ALSO missed 13 years, and does nothing - and he could've done OTHER things besides a gift like pictures or letters or stories...).

Anyway, then, even though Harry probably didn't even remember that night he ran away, Sirius points out that the FIRST thing he thought of on getting out of prison was to CHECK ON HARRY.

He's been tortured for 12 years and has a mission to get the rat and his priority is check on his kid! And if he could do it - so could Remus. Anyway, he TELLS Harry what he did and what he wanted - just a glimpse to make sure he was okay - and then *apologies* - he's one of the few adults that does.

Then, lastly, he tells Harry's he's been paying attention by enclosing the Hogsmeade slip and ASSURES him that he WILL be writing soon and that Harry SHOULD write to him.

This IS SO OPPOSITE TO REMUS!

Sirius - I'm here for you, I'll write, you should too.

Remus - Eh, bye I'll see you around.

Harry looked eagerly inside the envelope. There was another piece of parchment in there. He read it through quickly and felt suddenly as warm and contented as though he'd swallowed a bottle of hot butterbeer in one gulp. I, Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather, hereby give him permission to visit Hogsmeade on weekends. "That'll be good enough for Dumbledore!" said Harry happily. He looked back at Sirius's letter. "Hang on, there's a PS. . . . " I thought your friend Ron might like to keep this owl, as it's my fault he no longer has a rat. Ron's eyes widened. The minute owl was still hooting excitedly. "Keep him?" he said uncertainly. He looked closely at the owl for a moment; then, to Harry's and Hermione's great surprise, he held him out for Crookshanks to sniff. "What do you reckon?" Ron asked the cat. "Definitely an owl?" Crookshanks purred. "That's good enough for me," said Ron happily. "He's mine. " Harry read and reread the letter from Sirius all the way back into King's Cross station. It was still clutched tightly in his hand as he, Ron, and Hermione stepped back through the barrier of platform nine and three-quarters. Harry spotted Uncle Vernon at once. He was standing a good distance from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, eyeing them suspiciously, and when Mrs. Weasley hugged Harry in greeting, his worst suspicions about them seemed confirmed. "I'll call about the World Cup!" Ron yelled after Harry as Harry bid him and Hermione good-bye, then wheeled the trolley bearing his trunk and Hedwig's cage toward Uncle Vernon, who greeted him in his usual fashion. "What's that?" he snarled, staring at the envelope Harry was still clutching in his hand. "If it's another form for me to sign, you've got another --" "It's not," said Harry cheerfully. "It's a letter from my godfather. " "Godfather?" sputtered Uncle Vernon. "You haven't got a godfather!" "Yes, I have," said Harry brightly. "He was my mum and dad's best friend. He's a convicted murderer, but he's broken out of wizard prison and he's on the run. He likes to keep in touch with me, though . . . keep up with my news . . . check if I'm happy . . . " And, grinning broadly at the look of horror on Uncle Vernon's face, Harry set off toward the station exit, Hedwig rattling along in front of him, for what looked like a much better summer than the last.

And Lastly, Sirius proves that he thinks of Harry's friends, too, by providing Ron an owl, as well as knowing that Harry's needs his form.

Also, it's worth noting that Harry was so touched by the letter that he kept reading and rereading it AND given that he'd run away after blowing up Marge & what happened with being locked in the year before, it's entirely possible that the Dursleys planned to lock him up again and Sirius gave him an adult that he could use against the Dursley's (WHICH IS APPARENTLY ALL THEY NEEDED TO BEHAVE) - and that means that despite reneging on the whole 'live with me' deal, he still provided protection that Harry desperately needed.

Which is what a PARENT does.

THUS, Sirius is the Proper Parent, the Best Choice, and did the BEST HE COULD DO for Harry, while Remus dropped the ball.

Also, worth noting the differences in the last POA interactions sets up the next few books nicely with regards to Sirius&Remus with Harry. Harry turns to Sirius when he needs someone, despite knowing Remus for more time. He writes to him, he lets Sirius reassure him and support him, he expects him to be there - and he is. Remus isn't. And he never planned or wanted to be.

That much is obvious from the get.

So, in conclusion, Sirius is a GOOD GODFATHER, and Remus can suck it.

This has been properly tagged, so don't come at me, but feel free to discuss nicely.