#i feel a lot of my problems would be solved if i stayed awake during class

[bleep-bloop-boo]

orrrr, i can haunt them ill be the face in the shadows when they try to sleep ill be the eyes they feel watching them when theyre in the store ill be the spine-chilling wind they feel on their neck in the dead of night just like they haunt me and my report card :DD

did you know they say calculus is the language of God. did you know they tried to hold math up to infinity like a candle to the void. did you know statisticians plunged into the vastness of random chance and picked out patterns and equations and eight hundred ways to tell you how big your inevitable errors are and how far off those guesses at errors might be. math haters I can't sit with you anymore. human innovation is cradled in these ancient, methodical, desperate attempts at understanding what we are not designed to understand

[amewinterswriting]

Ame Plays: Little Dragon Cafe

Very cute, but annoyingly short of the mark.

I want to love this game. You play a child struggling to run a cafe with their sibling and raise a dragon, with extra flavour thrown in by the wide cast of guest characters, all with their own problems that can be solved through the magic of a good meal.

There are some great elements: the aesthetic is cute and cozy, the dragon is adorable and does a lot to help and support you, the island is really well designed to give you a lot to explore in a relatively small space and the soundtrack is way better than it really needs to be.

The problems start when you realise that the game isn't quite sure what it wants to be. You are encouraged to be physically present at the café to help during rushes (and stop the staff from slacking) and failure to step in will lose you customers because after long enough waiting they will leave in a frustrated huff.

If you spend too much time not gathering ingredients, however, you will inevitably run out of ingredients for your dishes. In fact, towards the late game, even if you spend all your time foraging, you will likely run out of ingredients and have to swap dishes around in your menu - it's just mathematics. If you get 25 customers in a day, and each one orders a dish with three ingredients, that's 75 ingredients used. (You can choose to use up to six ingredients in a recipe, which would obviously deplete your ingredients faster) Which means you need to gather at least that many ingredients per day. The ingredients are somewhat randomly generated at gathering points, so even if you keep the numbers up, you might not get the specific ingredients that you need for the dishes you currently have on your menu. My best attempts at efficiently foraging result in under 120 ingredients in a day and that involves completely ignoring the cafe and any reasonable bedtime for a small child, gathering from dawn till midnight - or beyond. In fact, you don't have to sleep at all unless plot demands it - there's no passing out and being carried back home, there's absolutely no penalty for simply staying awake and gathering ingredients. Which I like as a game mechanic, but given you are controlling a small child, feels very odd and at odds with the cozy aesthetic. Just don't sleep and work yourself into the ground for the sake of your cafe feels like the wrong message to send, somehow...

The actual act of helping out in the cafe feels very cramped and clumsy, which doesn't help matters. You have to run around taking orders, submitting the orders in the kitchen, delivering the food and cleaning up the dishes afterwards, plus interrupting anyone who decides to slack off - and they will, frequently. Everyone gets in the way of everyone else, the little galley to clean up dishes is a particularly bad spot for getting pushed around by NPCs as everyone tries to get in and out of the small space.

Still, you can ignore the actual act of running the cafe with little penalty. Your approval never actually drops as far as I can tell, not even if you decide to skip the day to trigger the next bit of plot and go straight to sleep at 7am and have no customers for the day (because for some reason, the cafe is only operational while you're awake, despite your sibling being somewhat capable of running the place when you aren't there). This at least means you aren't losing ingredients that day, but it does present the best way of completing the game as...not actually engaging with the game and skipping as many days as possible as being the most rewarding way to play.

The perplexing part of the cafe is that the 'customers' don't actually pay for their meals. There is no currency in the game nor a shop to spend it in, so that makes some sense. One of the staff characters starts working for you to pay off his bill - he was just going to dine and dash - but apart from that one scripted mention of money, there's no actual exchange of money you see as the player. Which makes the bad reviews and frustrated customers really funny - like guys, you are literally getting a sit down dinner for free, maybe be nice to the kids?

The other half of the game is exploring the island with your little dragon companion, which does at least feel more relaxing and fun. There is a bit of an issue with the jump mechanic - occasionally the button will be unresponsive and occasionally you'll catch on ledges and not be able to get the full jumping height, which is mostly only an issue because there are so many little steps and ledges to jump up that you will run into both multiple times a day. Once your dragon grows a little, you can ride him to traverse and he can thankfully jump much better than the human kids. The dragon will also help gather some ingredients, and randomly emote around you and he's genuinely a delight to be around.

There are also monsters and egg-birds. The monsters will 'attack' you but given this is a cozy game, they'll only steal meals from your pockets - there's no health to lose. They can be hunted for their meat, which is a gamble (the dragon sometimes gets distracted and doesn't hunt the monster the first time you ask) or you can lure them into running headlong into a rock which also results in meat. The egg-birds must be collected and then they will live near the cafe and produce an egg a day you can pick up...for a few days. Then they'll return to where you got them from. Which feels like annoying busywork for no reason - you already know where the bird is, you just have to go back there every so often to get them back.

You do have a small garden that will produce ingredients as time passes, or instantly if dragon manure is used, but you cannot choose what it produces or how much, it will just randomly generate anything you have already gathered from elsewhere. Including meat, oddly enough. There is a fish hatchery that does the same. This is the best way of getting a lot of ingredients all at once, but in order to get dragon manure, you have to feed your dragon, and the larger it gets, the more food it needs to produce manure. And you need to cook every dish manually using a small rhythm mini game - no batch cooking. It kinda feels like the game just wants me to spend an hour cooking lots of dishes, then force-feeding my dragon to get the manure to spend on speeding up the garden to get the ingredients (which I am also spending on the food for the dragon, so the game is incentivising me to use as few materials as possible to maximise returns). That feels like no fun so I'm not going to batch cook 30 single scotch eggs (using just egg, no meat or breading here) and force-feed him eggs until he poops...at least not for very long.

There are also some short stories revolving around some guest NPC characters who usually show up with an emotional problem, stay in the cafe for a few days, open up about their issues, need a particular dish cooking for them to resolve their emotional conflict and then leave, leaving a space ready for the next character to come and stay. These are actually pretty well written compared to other cozy life-sims like Harvest Moon and the characters are really charming and relatable.

To be honest, it wouldn't take a lot for me to love this game. Like, let customers pay for their meals and then give us a shop to buy upgrades for the cafe or the staff (so that you wouldn't need to personally intervene when they start slacking, for example, or that they would slack off less often) or let us buy 'basic' ingredients like flour and rice, but still have us forage for more exotic food and the upgraded ingredients. That would help take the big pressure out of trying to forage more ingredients than you use daily. Otherwise, tweak forage spots so they give multiple ingredients per interaction, which would save time, or give us more options in the garden. Say, use materials to upgrade the amount the garden yields, or let us choose what types of ingredients we would like the garden to produce. Basically a little more customising in general and a little automation would turn the grindy chore bits of the game into something a little more interesting.

Because there isn't really a penalty for failure, there also isn't a reward for doing well. The game will mostly chug along at its own pace regardless of how well or badly the cafe does, only requiring an increase in customer satisfaction between NPC story episodes and that can usually be achieved in a single day. This is probably by design - to avoid frustrating younger players - but it does make mid to late game feel like a grindy chore that you don't actually need to deal with. You can progress quickly by skipping most days, only sticking around to trigger the scenes and then going straight to sleep. But at that point, why bother to still play the game?

[awrldalone]

15th September 2023, 6.38am

I've just gotten home, the clothes I hung before I left at 9.30pm are still wet, the dishes I washed are not, and I have to stay awake for at least one more hour to reserve my language classes for the year. I'm still undecided between Russian and Japanese, but I have some time to think about it.

For the past couple of days I have let the hecticity of life surround me. I have no proper routine, no proper goal, not yet. I know things will change next week, with the beginning of classes. I can already picture myself taking notes in the warmth of an overcrowded room, with a professor who never shuts up, and my fingers tingle with excitement at the idea of picking up a pen and learn again. During this past year I have started reading a lot more non-fiction: essays by James Baldwin, Audre Lorde, Susan Sontag, but also scientific texts, like some physics lessons by Carlo Rovelli and Richard P. Feynman, or even Wassily Kandisky's terrible attempts at making art a science, or Ryoko Sekiguchi's essay about the state of Nagori and la nostalgie qui vient de nous quitter. I have been hungry for knowledge, I am insatiable, curious in a way I have not been since childhood.

I have started going to the gym again, after three months of not going. The building is large and flat, as if it has been squashed to the ground by a heavenly hand. The actual gym is not the best – but it's the cheapest, and the closest to home. The machines are old, and there's not enough dumbbells to let everyone workout at the same time, but i can wait on the side for a bench to free up.

I still hate my body, despite everything. I carry this hatred in my heart. I have a backpack of problems, but I have gotten so used to its weight that I would no longer feel like myself if I solved them. I really need to see a psychologist.

After three months of not being able to control how I look, buying my own groceries, working out at my own pace, walking everywhere helps a lot. i have started taking pills for acne too; they make me thirsty.

-c.

[writerlyhabits]

Din Djarin Masterlist

Main Masterlist

◍ smut/18+ fics ⌾ angst ◌ pure fluff

Suum Ca’nara Series: Mando returns to the Razor Crest after a mission to find you waiting for him, exhausted and in need of sleep just like he is. So he decides to try something, which will end up feeding the growing relationship between the two of you.

◌ Suum Ca’nara | Up and Over | ◍ Tensions | Jate Vaar'tur | ◌ Yaim'ol

Shereshoy Series Masterlist: a sister fic written by a friend with the same prompt as one of my fics 👀

“Please come. Bring the Foundling and your companion. We expect your arrival posthaste.” Mando receives a holo message from the Armorer, and brings you with him to a new covert, putting a halt to your search for the Jedi. While there, what happens when you catch the attention of the other Mandalorians?

⌾ Ration Packs: Din, newest and youngest member of the bounty hunter's guild, hires you as his live-in mechanic to keep up with the repairs of his Razor Crest. As you work together, a friendship starts to bloom as your unspoken understanding of each other works in your favor. But he's got to figure out how to fix things when that unspoken understanding really should have been spoken.

⌾ Courting: You, Din, & the Child are staying with his covert. You've caught the eye of another Mando. You’re pretty, handy, and love the Child; I.e. perfect Mando Riduur material. This Mando is trying to court you, and you're clueless...so when he gifts you a handcrafted knife, you think nothing of it. Din, however, loses his shit ... Have fun.

◌ Namana Fruit: You are OVERWORKED, and Din is here to provide comfort.

⌾ Pregnant: "Din’s partner figures out they’re pregnant, and is terrified. They aren’t married, this is the worst time possible, Din already has so much responsibility on his shoulders. But they have to tell him. Because Din deserves to know. She’s terrified of what his reaction might be... How do you think that scene plays out?"

Shine and Polish: “Din catches you cleaning/polishing his armor for him (something usually only done between courting Mandos) and gets all shy explaining the implications to you send tweet”

◌ Bed Rest: “Reader takes care of a sick Din send tweet”

⌾ Carbonite Sickness: "the reader somehow gets frozen in Carbonite during a fight, then wakes up blind with the Carbonite sickness? I'm a sucker for that kind of hurt/comfort..."

⌾ Insecurities: How would a conversation between Din and Reader go—if Reader felt like there’s no way Din could be interested in them because of their perceived flaws... or that they just don’t feel good enough in general?

⌾ Holo Pad: Din’s crewmate works really hard. They’ll get so in the zone that they will forget to eat, forget to stay hydrated, or will stay awake way later than they should. And Din HATES it.

⌾ Confrontation: reader and Din have been good crewmates for while, and reader has developed feelings for Din. Mando knows and feels the same way, but the moment he asks her about how she feels she gets upset and leaves the conversation.

Jealousy: Ever wonder how Din would react to Cobb Vanth hitting on you over and over? I spy a jealous Mando...

Not the Prettiest: Din with a non-conventionally attractive reader? A lot of people tend to not get called pretty in real life and would want something they could relate to more? Maybe he comforts reader after someone made fun of their looks?

◌ Sleepless: some of Din's favorite cuddles with you.

The Hunters: "… the reader could be a bounty hunter being trained by Din and they both are in a hunt and the reader fucks up, like lets the bounty escape and din has to solve the problem."

Reacting to you being cat-called

◌ First kisses with Din

This filthy blurb (& this reply)

⌾ Reacting to your trauma response from past relationships

◌ Braiding your hair

Awkward compliments

◍ “No one I’ve been with has made me finish before”

◌ How Din says "I love you"

◍ When their partner is a virgin

◌ Comforting you when you cry

[the12thnightproject]

I don’t know if this is a boring question, but how would you describe Katsu’s and Shingen’s domestic life together? I tend to focus a lot on that.

Things like “how are they during morning?” “How often do they eat together?” Or even “when they are trying to relax together”

I don’t know, I am really curious about that

Hi @selenacosmic

It's not a boring question at all! And I do semi-keep it in mind, both for thinking of birthday events & stuff, as well as knowing that in certain other longfics, we'll be catching up with them, when the timelines intersect.

My ideas aren't exactly organized though, so I'll do this headcanon-style:

They generally don't eat the first meal together (I think historically we're talking about a two-meal day for the samurai class- but Katsu is such an early riser, she probably will beg a light snack from one of Kenshin's cooks) ....

She's more of a morning person than he is, so she gets up earlier and does a message run. She's still intimidated by Chiyome. Occasionally, Sute will invite her along on one of her missions. Katsuko doesn't think Shingen knows about this.

(He knows).

Meanwhile, he'll take more time getting out of bed (or sometimes convince her to stay in bed longer), then spend his morning conferencing with Kenshin, Yukimura, and occasional visiting Daimyos.

He continues to train her in tactics - so their afternoons are often spent going through reconnaissance reports, as they discuss various solutions to different situations. Given that Aki is missing, Shingen is helping Katsu keep Aki's network going, with the intention that when she feels ready, she will take over until Aki reappears. So they both keep very busy. And while it's not at all relaxing, it's something they both love doing.

Not to mention she also wants to keep up her archery skills, and he (and Kenshin) still are teaching her fighting techniques.

On some afternoons, they can both be working very intently, in the brainstorming zone -bouncing strategies, solutions off each other, and suddenly, they'll look at each other, and that work mode will instantly morph into lust. Sometimes, they'll just share a long intense look, the one that says, 'yeah, I see you" but also acknowledges they can't at that moment, because whatever problem they were trying to solve, needs solved first. But they silently promise to rip their clothing off and drag each other to bed as soon as they can. Other times (especially when it's raining... a rainy afternoon just heightens everything) ... well, work can wait...

And so, Yukimura has learned to KNOCK LOUDLY before entering.

Of course, at night, with Kenshin being Kenshin, they all eat together, and it's loud and crazy, and Kenshin always threatens to kill SOMEONE (sometimes it's Katsu - but she's used to it). Just the usual Kasugayama insanity. Some nights they escape that and go into Kasugayama town and spend some time with Toshiie & family. Shingen is the only person who can instantly make Mayumi stop screaming.

Katsu still climbs trees.

(He knows about that too).

You can imagine what they do at night...

Katsu's insomnia hasn't really gone away, but on those nights when she's wide awake and doesn't want to be, Shingen gently massages her back, and stomach, and talk to her in a low quiet tones until she finally drops off to sleep.

If they're living in Kasugayama, there's likely not a lot of time available to truly relax... they might be able to steal away now and again for a walk/hike/ride; of course Yoshimoto is always trying to bring in dance troupes or other artists into the castle, so that would be available at times; sometimes in the afternoon, Shingen will perform a tea ceremony; also, they're not terribly distant from a couple of hot springs, so if they have a rare block of free time, I could imagine they'd go to one of those.

Did the concept of weekends exist? Possibly .... not?

I do imagine though that, given that in game universe, Shingen takes MC to Tsutsujigasaki Castle, that Shingen and Katsu also spend some time there as well - they've got a bit more privacy (and less Kenshin) there, so even though the work would follow them there, they can be a bit more leisurely there.

They'll train together - he's, of course, so much better, but they will spar for the fun of it (he always wins).

I imagine that Shingen indeed managed to figure out a hack to build a Sengoku version of a solar shower - that's something they can definitely enjoy together. And since Tsutsujigasaki Castle is in the mountains.... well, he probably couldn't manage to make her a safe snowboard, but he can build a sled - so in the winter, they can go sledding - they both love cuddling up close on the sled and whooshing down the mountain (Shingen is more a fan of the cuddle than the whoosh, but he knows Katsu needs the mountains and the rush).

When Shingen is stuck with his leadership duties (meetings with daimyos, and/or his clan) Katsu's daredevil ways will win out and she will sometimes take the sled out and try to get it to work like a snowboard.

(He knows about that, too).

Still, free time is short, so when they have some, they make the most of it, both in and out of bed.

Mostly... in, though.

Thank you for the ask! It was fun to think about them.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Sleeping issues, tw cptsd, (not sa) sexual stuff, panic attacks.

Hey, I have sleeping issues due to hypervigilance from my cptsd. They are mainly (1) that I have a very light sleep and wake up a hundred of times at night. I don't remember all of them but some. It became very clear when I was in hospital a few years ago and whenever someone came checking on me, I sat upright. They tried meds on me but they either didn't work or I slept for the next 48h. So they gave up (they assumed it was a temporary issue). (2) I can't sleep if I am not deadly tired. I will lay around useless and annoyed, waiting to finally fall asleep. Sometimes I chose to do that, if the bed is cozy, my boyfriend asleep and I am just fine enjoying the atmosphere until I can finally fall asleep. So it is not a "I expect it won't work so it won't work" self-fullfiling prophecy. Most days I just stay awake till 3am. (3) I need ages to wake up. I usually sleep 8-9h and wake up (and can't go back to sleep again). I will need almost an hour until I have gathered the energy, to put up my phone and scroll on tumblr, another hour until I drag my body to the couch and maybe after 3 hours or more I can pick up my sewing stuff and be at least a little bit useful. After 4 or 5 hours I am able to go to the kitchen and make breakfast. I hate it!

And recurring issues are, that I get panic attacks at night (which I believe are the worst because I can't process that it is just a panic attack and mix dream and "sensation of panic") and that I have nightmares. I usually dream very strongly, I occasionally can shape parts of my dreams, I remember a lot of it, after I wake up. Sometimes... A bit of a dream stucks during the day. One time I dreamt of some... Secret operation idk and there was a global issue we had to solve and I came to the solution. And all day I was half-dissociated because my brain was playing the scene, where I told the others the solution, over and over but I didn't remember what the solution was (granted, I also didn't remember what the issue was). Like, when you have a song stuck in your head and because you forgot one line it just repeats from the last chorus again, over and over. But with dissociation.

Lately I'm having a lot of dreams with sexual content. I am asexual due to trauma. It was always pretty similar, there is some male (not always the same) series character and I initiate sexual actions. Which is... confusing. Like, I have zero interest in it in real life and I am very repelled from sexual stuff, it's always combined with a lot of guilt so... It's not super comfortable to have those dreams. Plus I feel shitty because I can't have sex with my boyfriend but dream a lot about it with some serie character like?? It feels unfair to him, I know that's bullshit, but still.

What I can find online, put your phone aside before bed, drink a tea before bed blabla, isn't the solution to trauma issues. Do you have any solutions? From what I read, sleeping issues aren't uncommon amongst people with (c)ptsd,  but I couldn't find any solving ideas online...

Hi anon,

I'm so sorry to hear about what's been going on lately.

As someone with (presumably complex) PTSD, I resonate with the sleeping problems you're describing (also with the caedosexuality). Honestly I think this is a little more complicated than a sort of home remedy - if you don't already have a therapist, I think it would be helpful to talk about these symptoms with one and perhaps get to the root of why these things are flaring up.

In my experience, I was at one point prescribed Prazosin for my nightmares. It's not FDA-approved, but it's said to help with PTSD-related sleep disturbances. It honestly wasn't helpful for me, but I understand that everyone reacts differently to medication. So if you have a therapist, psychiatrist, or GP, I would also suggest talking to them about this medication and if it would be compatible for you. Any other suggestions are welcomed!

I genuinely hope that your sleep improves on all fronts, and I hope I could help answer your questions at least a little bit. Please know you're not alone in this experience, and do let us know if you need anything in the future!

-Bun

[merakiaes]

In The Heat Of The Moment - Aaron Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Requested: By @forgottenword​

Prompts: #3 from the common trope-list. 

Warnings/notes: Unprotected sex. Wrap it before you tap it, kids. I’m extremely bad at writing smut so I apologize in advance for the shitty quality😩 I want to stress that my smut requests are CLOSED, this was an only exception because I liked the concept, so please don’t send in smut requests because hey will be deleted. This turned out a lot longer than I planned but oh well. Please leave a comment and let me know what you think. Thank you <3 NOT PROOFREAD

Wordcount: 7175

Summary: When having a fever and being caught in the rain, you’re bound to be freezing and in need of heat. And what better way to get warmed up than by sharing a bed with your boss? 

You and Aaron Hotchner had never gotten along as well as co-workers should in your line of work. You were great agents, great people, when you were separated. But when you were together… Well, let’s just say that it was never a pretty sight.

You had joined the BAU around the same time and despite only being beginners back then, you were both great at what you did. But putting you together on your first job was everything but a match made in heaven.

You were a bit younger than him and you were used to being criticized by men your entire life, so when working with Hotch turned out to be no different, you became competitive and determined to show your worth to him and your fellow agents.

You could easily just shoot your enemy if you ever felt threatened in the field, but when it came to Hotch, your co-worker, your only line of defense was your quick-witted sarcasm.

In Hotch’s eyes, you behaved like a child from the start and he wanted nothing more than to just have you transferred, but the longer you worked together, the more used to it he got.

He still didn’t like it though, not one bit, but it was bearable back when you’d had Gideon to step in and calmly settle your differences whenever those popped up. Which, let’s be honest, was often.

But now he was gone and Hotch had stepped up to take the leading position, and even though you hadn’t been interested in that position, yourself, you hated that he now had the higher ground and the perfect shot to make your life a living hell just like you had, knowingly, made his.

If you wanted to go to the crime scene, he sent you to question potential witnesses. If you wanted to question potential witnesses, he sent you to the crime scene. If you specifically asked to do something, he made you do the exact opposite and if you specifically asked not to do something, that’s exactly what he forced you to do. And now that he was your superior rather than your equal, you were in no place to argue, no matter how much you wanted to.

You wouldn’t go as far as to say you hated each other; you respected him and he respected you, but you just couldn’t stand each other and the way the two of you always seemed to criticize the other’s capability of getting the job done.

He always underestimated you and condescendingly shook his head at your every move, and you just couldn’t help but run your mouth about how he did everything wrong when you were with him.

It could be amusing to see you bicker, to say the least, but eventually, the team was starting to get tired of the way your disagreements and inability to work together was constantly threatening to ruin the case, so they were more than relieved when, finally, the two of you were beginning to settle down.

When Haley filed for a divorce, you were the only one on the team who didn’t change your entire persona. While the others walked on eggshells around him, always afraid to say the wrong thing and make him snap, you remained your usual big-mouthed, snarky self, never letting him catch a break.

Up until then, you had never been anything other than a major pain in his ass, but under these circumstances, the fact that you didn’t go out of your way to feel sorry for him provided a kind of security for him.

You approached him about it once after a case on which he had shown himself more agitated and reckless than usual, telling him that he could talk to you if he wanted to, but after that, you just left him alone to deal with everything the way he wanted to.

Knowing he had the support but also being given the choice to choose on his own rather than having the support forced upon him was just what he needed and in your own, dysfunctional way, you grew closer because of it.

He started to willingly take you along during cases while he sent the others to deal with other aspects, as opposed to the past where the last thing he wanted was to be stuck with just you, knowing you’d find some way to go against his wishes just to spite him.

He’d always known that you were a great person and an even greater agent and profiler, even though he would never admit it out loud, but it was only after his divorce that he really came to see you in a different light.

However, despite his newfound fondness of you, there were still rules to be followed; ones he, as a leader, could not look past if broken.

One of the most important rules were that you couldn’t get attached or emotionally involved in a case. Being able to remain objective was of the utmost importance in order to not risk jeopardizing the entire investigation and this specifically, you’d never had a problem with.

You felt for the families and victims of course, but you knew that in order to do your job, you had to close yourself off to the grief they were feeling. Struggling with this was more common for the others on the team, but you did alright.

But then there was the rule that emphasized the importance of staying at home or at least in the office if you ever happened to get sick, and the most important rule, at least for you, not to lie or go against your boss’s orders. And you had broken both of them.

It had started out with a light cough and a runny nose; nothing too alarming seeing as it could easily pass for allergies, which just so happened to be the excuse you used when confronted about it.

Eventually the cough disappeared and your nose dried up, leading you to believe that the excuse you had been telling everyone for three days straight could actually be the truth, but then came the fever, out of nowhere in the middle of the night.

You laid awake trembling and sweating through your sheets both at the same time, and yet, you pulled your ass out of bed the next morning and got to work, completely ignoring the fact that you were obviously not well.

And as was only natural, the light fever got worse and brought several other complications with it as you kept pushing yourself in the field. You became short of breath easier and your ears started hurting, bringing back the terrible memories from your childhood back when you’d get the worst ear infections on a frequent basis for years.

But you’d just been invited into a new case, one that took longer than they usually did and one that you just so happened to get attached to, against your better judgement. You kept getting sicker and you tried your hardest to hide it, because you just couldn’t leave your team in those desperate times.

You were also, as you always had been, too stubborn to admit the fact that you needed help and rest, and so you sucked it up and pretended that you were fine, something that seemed to go unnoticed as the others were just as caught up in the job and determined to get to the bottom of the case as you were.

And you did, get to the bottom of it, as you always did. You solved the case, identified and tracked down the unsub and went in for the arrest.

Hotch and Prentiss went around the back and you and Reid went in through the house while Morgan and Rossi stood by the police cars, waiting for Hotch’s orders to come in.

You and Reid were the ones to find the man first, catching him off-guard and holding him at gunpoint until Hotch and Prentiss appeared from the back and handcuffed him.

You were able to complete the arrest and save the hostage before anything could happen to her, and luckily, the state you were in hadn’t affected the case nor your ability to work.

But once everything was safe, you subconsciously let down the façade you had been putting on for the past few days and as you walked out of the house, a sudden wave of dizziness hit you and sent you falling to the ground before you had even reached the cars.

Morgan, having had his eyes on you when you walked out, was the first one to witness it and rushed to your side, alerting your fellow team members. By then, you were knocked out cold from the exhaustion and as the medics at the scene rushed up, they noted aloud that you had a very high fever and had to get to the hospital.

You were rushed there in the ambulance that had originally been for the hostage should she have needed to be treated, and as you laid unconscious, Hotch sat by your side, glaring at you despite the fact that you couldn’t even see it.

Luckily, your carelessness hadn’t come in the way of the case as you hadn’t hit rock bottom until it was all over, but in a worst case scenario it could’ve affected your ability to properly do your job which was exactly why the rules said you couldn’t work when sick.

But despite the fact that everything had worked out, you had gone against the rules by hiding your sickness and working despite it, which was the sole reason of your sudden collapse and also the reason that Hotch was now forced to drive all the way back to Quantico as the doctor hadn’t cleared you for flying with your ear infection, and it was safe to say that he was not happy about it.

“You put the entire team in danger today.” He spoke for the first time since you had sat down in the car, in which you had been seated for the past forty minutes.

Forty, painfully slow minutes of thick and tense silence, both of you just waiting in dread for the argument that was sure to come.

But even then, now that the silence had been broken, you didn’t feel any better.

“I know.” You replied simply from where you sat beside him in the passenger seat.

You stared out the window lazily, slumped in your seat and breathing slowly, each breath fogging up the glass and dimming the view of the darkening sky outside.

Your ears picked up on the sound of crunching leather, no doubt being caused by Hotch’s grip tightening on the steering wheel. “Is that all you have to say?” He asked bitterly. Annoyance was radiating off of him and the tone in his voice only made its existence more evident.

An unintentional sigh of exhaustion left your lips and for the first time, you dared to turn your head to look at him. “What do you want me to do?” You asked. “I made a mistake and I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” He wasted no time in answering, not even bothering to look at you, and this time you could see with your own eyes how his grip on the wheel hardened, his knuckles turning white.

You turned your attention back to the window and let out another long breath through your nose, but Hotch was nowhere near finished.

“What if your fever had caused you to black out in the middle of the arrest? You could’ve been ambushed from behind, too weak to fight back, and died. Reid would’ve been on his own, without backup, and could’ve died.”

Once again you turned your head to look at him, your face wiped free of emotion as you stared into his side profile.

“It’s of the utmost importance that we’re always on top of our game. We can not afford to take chances like these. You can’t-“ He sighed, sparing you the briefest of glances. “You can’t lie to me, to us, about the state of your health. By doing so, not only are you endangering yourself, but you’re endangering us all. The team, and the hostages. I won’t be able to look past this, my hands will be tied of it comes down to an evaluation.”

He wanted you to feel guilty and you understood, because you knew that you had been stupid and reckless and that you had behaved inappropriately and done what you just couldn’t do in this line of work. But no matter how deep and thick the guilt settled in the pit of your stomach, you knew his threats of ‘not being able to look past it’ were empty.

After all, he had done the exact same thing on more than one occasion since the divorce; gotten so indulged in the case at hand that he had recklessly and inappropriately broken protocol, because of which he had taken a lot of heat lately.

But still, the string you were still holding on to, the string of getting to keep your job, was short and weak, and the only thing keeping you quiet, something Hotch was taking full advantage of.

He kept scolding you for at least five more minutes, but you weren’t listening to any of it, too distracted by the painful pressure in your ears and completely out of it, barely even able to hang on to reality in your disoriented and feverish state.

The heat in the car was cranked up to the max, and yet you were shivering in your seat, shrinking back into your thin sweater as far as you could in a desperate attempt to preserve your bodily heat.

But no matter how hot your skin was to the touch, you were freezing, and it wasn’t until the weather outside took a complete three-sixty turn, forcing Hotch to put his disapproving scolding on hold in order to concentrate on not driving you into a ditch in the blinding rain, that he took the time to take note of your state.

In any other case you would’ve been all too aware of his eyes on you, but right now, you could barely even stay awake.

The pain in your ears was for the most part gone for the moment, but the fever only seemed to have gotten worse, and it showed in more ways than one. And it was in the way you had barely said a word to him, which was a near never-occurring thing, that Hotch realized that you really weren’t well.

An unsure silence fell as a blanket over the car for a moment as his eyes kept flickering back and forth between the road and you, where you were barely able to keep your own eyes open.

“Are you alright?” He finally questioned and he waited for a long moment for you to answer, and when he got none, he cautiously moved his hand out to touch your knee. “(Y/N).”

Your eyes shot open and your head whipped around to face him at the sound of your name and the feeling of his hand on your leg. “Hm?” You asked in an absent manner, instantly regretting your hasty movements when your head started throbbing.

“Are you alright?” He repeated, eyebrows creasing in worry when you raised your hand to your forehead and closed your eyes.

You took a steady breath, trying to calm your spinning head, before carefully shaking it. “No.”

“Are you ears hurting?”

“My head.” You took another breath, squeezing your eyes shut at the painful jabbing at the side of your head, feeling them sting like they would when you’d spent hours upon hours crying.

Hotch watched from the side as you rubbed your forehead and temples, taking note of how hard you were squeezing your eyes shut and how badly you were shivering. Slowly but surely, he felt the anger he had previously been feeling melting off.

He said nothing else, giving your sullen face a last glance before turning his attention back to the road in front of him. But his hand didn’t move, remaining at your knee where his thumb rubbed soft, absentminded circles as an attempt to offer you some comfort.

For a second it made your heart flutter like never before, but soon enough, you’d forgotten all about it, only being able to focus on how incredibly shitty you were feeling. Not only physically, but mentally too, because Hotch had been right about everything he had said.

You were sweating like crazy, feeling trapped in the car where you couldn’t escape your thoughts and the guilt that was getting bigger by the minute, and you wanted nothing more than to get out and breathe some fresh air.

So when Hotch stopped at a gas station to fill up the tank and get some water and painkillers for your head, you did just that, not even being able to process the fact that the rain was still pouring down until it was too late.

You stood with your back leaned against the car, hugging yourself tightly and shivering even more than before as your clothes were now soaked, but the crisp air felt nice and was a blessing for your aching head.

Hotch came out of the gas station three minutes later and spotted you immediately, wasting no time in breaking into a run in your direction.

“What are you doing?! You’re already sick!” He yelled over the sound of rain harshly colliding into the exterior of the car.

You didn’t have the energy to fight back, simply continuing to rub your forehead. “I’m sorry, it was so stuffed in there, I needed to get out.” You mumbled silently, and he sighed, walking around you to open your car door.

“Get back in the car.” He ordered, and you did as told, allowing him to help you inside and waiting for him to close the door behind you before leaning against it.

He quickly got in in the driver’s seat and wasted no time in starting the car and cranking the heat up the little way further that was possible, throwing the bottle of water and packet of painkillers into the backseat.

“You’re shaking, we need to get you dry and warm.” He said as he fuzzed over you, silently urging you to take off your outer layer and helping you do so.

He drove out of the gas station once you were properly situated again, holding your hands in his in an attempt to warm them up.

You drove for a while longer and soon enough, Hotch took a right and parked the car. But you were half asleep and completely out of it, barely even able to process that he’d left you until the door you were leaning against opened, causing you to fall right into his chest and forcing you awake.

“Here, take this.” He wasted no time in draping you in a thick, scratchy blanket that you’d never seen before.

Nevertheless, you didn’t protest, getting out of the car and staying glued to his side as he walked you in the direction of the hotel you were now apparently parked in front of.

Once you reached the door to the room you guessed he’d fixed you for the night, he unlocked the door, ushered you inside and locked the door behind you.

Out of pure instinct, your hand moved to the light switch right next to the front door, only to discover that the power was out.

You were still dizzy, your skin burning hot but freezing to your core, but you were awake now, and all you wanted was a hot shower, so your second instinct was to head into the bathroom to test the water, and just your luck, the hot water was gone, as well.

Shivering, you turned back to face the entirety of the room, the only light in sight being the light of the moon streaming in through the windows and Hotch’s phone as he used it to find his way around.

“There’s no hot water.” You deadpanned, hugging yourself close and standing still in the middle of the room.

“The power is out and there’s a flood down the road, the woman at the counter said it could take a while for it to return so we’ll have to make do with what we’ve got in the meanwhile and get you out of your wet clothes.” Hotch wasted no time in replying as he busied himself with un-making one of the two beds.

He didn’t even spare you as much as a glance but you watched him for a moment longer, taking in his hurried movements as he ripped the blankets of the bed you presumed would be his, instead placing them on the bed with your name on it.

You knew he could feel your eyes on him, but when he didn’t turn around, you let out a breath through your nose and uncrossed your arms from over your chest, instead beginning to undress yourself.

And let me tell you, that’s not an easy task when you’re shivering like a chihuahua and have an a hundred and three degree fever and the current strength of an infant.

Your arms were heavy, almost too heavy to lift, and your fingers trembled when you began working on the buttons of your shirt. You tried your hardest to see what you were doing but the lack of light in the room made it hard, and the more you strained your eyes, the more intense your headache and dizziness got.

By now, Hotch had finished setting up your bed and turned around to see you struggling, taking a few small steps in your direction.

“Do you need help?” He asked, and you dropped your hands to your sides.

“Yeah.”

He walked up to you and wasted no time in getting to work on your buttons. You watched his face the entire time, even in your feverish daze being able to pick up on how hard he was trying to focus his eyes on his fingers in a respectful manner.

Once the last button came undone, you turned around and allowed him to pull the article of clothing off your body, the snug fabric releasing a creaking sound as it was pulled off your wet skin.

Hotch wordlessly walked over to the desk placed in the room and hung the shirt over the back of a chair, while you went to work on your pants.

Luckily, this piece of clothing only had one button and you managed to get it undone without too much trouble, sitting down on your bed and pulling them off – this part taking a bit more struggle seeing as they were stuck to your skin just like the shirt had been.

But you managed and wasted no time in crawling under the multitude of blankets that Hotch had neatly piled up on the bed, tucking yourself in as tightly as possible and pulling them up to your nose in an attempt to fill the inside of the cocoon with warm air.

It worked to an extent, your skin quickly regaining its previous heat and feeling so hot to the touch that one could’ve easily thought that you were on the verge of burning up.

But it did nothing to warm your core, and no matter how hard you tried keeping the shivers at bay by relaxing your body and keeping your breaths steady, it was to no use.

You laid there in silence for a good moment, becoming unaware of your surroundings once again, including the pair of eyes burning into the side of your face from across the room.

Hotch watched you closely while he followed his own advice and discarded his wet shirt, unbuckling his belt, hanging it on a chair and kicking off his shoes and socks.

Dressed now only in his damp slacks, he moved to grab the bottle of water and painkillers that he’d gotten from the gas station, and continued to the side of your bed, where he crouched down in front of you.

“Take this.” He instructed and you opened your eyes, pushing yourself up with all your might so that you could take the outstretched items from his hand.

You swallowed the pill with two gulps of water and fell right back into bed once he had taken the bottle back, pulling the blankets up to your nose again.

He stood back up to his full height and as a strong shiver went down your spine, the words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

“I need more heat, this isn’t enough. You’ll have to lay with me.”

Hotch’s face pulled into one of mild surprise at the sound of your unexpected words, and he instantly started protesting. “I don’t think-“

But you interrupted, staring up at him with those angry eyes that he so often found himself at the receiving end of. “I’m freezing my ass off and you’re cold, too. I’m not about to let you sleep without blankets. It’s just until the power and hot water comes back.”

He stared back at you, face ever so stoic. “Fine.” He gave in, and only then did you soften your glare.

You closed your eyes as he began removing his pants, slowly scooting back on the bed to make room for him, and you couldn’t help but let out a breath of relief when he lifted the covers and slid in next to you.

Your skin was hot with fever but somehow, his was even hotter, burning you to the touch.

You were still freezing, but as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, you instantly found it easier to relax, your shivering toning down a great deal.

Out of pure instinct, you snuggled further into his chest and you could feel on the stiffness of his body that he was uncomfortable and unsure of how to react in the situation you’d so inconveniently found yourself in.

Opening your eyes as far as your heavy eyelids would let you, you found him to be staring up into the roof. But the second he felt your heavy gaze on him, he turned his head to the side to meet your eyes.

Heat flushed through your entire body and you had been aroused enough times to recognize the feeling.

You knew all of this had started off innocent, a person simply trying to warm up another person as an act of kindness and basic human decency, and you never would’ve had these impure thoughts about him in any other situation, but your body was reacting on its own to the feeling of his skin against yours, and so was his.

Your faces were close to each other, mere inches apart, and before you were able to stop yourself, you leaned in closer and brushed your lips against his.

He retaliated immediately, pulling back and looking down at you with an unreadable expression written all over his face.

He told himself that the fever was making you confused and disoriented, but when you moved back in for a second attempt, this time with a lot more clarity in your eyes and confidence in your movements, he didn’t pull back.

You remained still for the entirety of the kiss, your lips just pressed against each other’s with little to no extended movements. When you came apart again, your breaths were heavy but the sound of your heart beating loudly in your ears was the only thing you could hear.

You stared into each other’s eyes and your eyes momentarily fluttered shut when he brought his hand up and grazed your lower lip with his thumb.

And then his lips were on yours again, and this time you just kept going.

His hands cradled your face and you laid down flat on your back, wrapping your arms around his neck and opening your legs to allow him to move on top of you. You pulled him impossibly close, a surge of sudden energy bursting through your entire body.

He was a gentleman at heart but he didn’t bother asking you if you were sure, knowing better than anyone that you were more than capable of telling him if you weren’t. You were both adults, you knew exactly what you were doing.

You’d had your fair share of rendezvouses throughout your life, but none had left you feeling like this.

Passion, desperation, fervor, urgency, impatience, hunger, eagerness, and every single other synonym that could be used to describe the lustful attraction between two people were currently battling in your body.

But more present than any other feeling was the anger; anger directed at you, fueled by the way you had put yourself and your entire team at risk by lying about the state of your health, and anger directed at him, fueled by the way he had always underestimated you and doubted your abilities.

You were both furious in all ways possible and neither of you had any plans on stopping, his hands already making their way down your body and heading straight for the direction of the place where you needed him the most.

His hands were warm but yours were cold, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as they traveled his arms, chest, shoulders and neck.

One of your hands stayed at his neck, tracing light touches over his throat and jaw, while the other one moved down the length of your own body to meet with his where it was hovering above the line of your underwear.

You grabbed a hold of it and pushed his palm flat against the bottom of your stomach, urging him to continue, and he didn’t waste a second, dipping his hand inside the waistband of the thin fabric that was still wet from the rain and resting uncomfortably against your skin.

Breath getting caught in your throat and heart palpitating in your chest, you pushed your head back into the pillow, your eyes falling shut at the pleasurable feeling of his fingers finding your core, your lips coming apart in the process.

Instead, his face bent down and nuzzled the crook of your neck, lips leaving slow kisses behind as he adjusted his hand.

It obviously wasn’t going as smoothly as he’d like though, the wet fabric getting caught on his skin and causing a frustrated sound to escape his throat.

“These need to go.” He mumbled into the skin of your shoulder and you eagerly nodded, completely ignoring the headache that was still going strong.

You raised your hips to allow him access, and he wasted no time in pushing the underwear off your legs, leaving you to shake them off your feet.

They got lost somewhere underneath the numerous blankets but you couldn’t care less, your hands hurrying down to the waistband of his boxers.

He drew in a breath at the feeling of your icy cold fingers, but made no move to stop you, helping you in ridding himself of the only remaining clothing he had on and then moving on to unclasp your bra, carelessly throwing it onto the floor and latching his lips back onto yours.

His hand returned to your heat and just like he had done mere seconds before, you sucked in a sharp breath as his fingers dipped in, running a line up your folds before pushing their way inside.

He hooked his finger down into your entrance to gather some of your wetness, bringing it up all the way along your slit and stopping only when he reached the sensitive bundle of nerves that was just throbbing with need.

That’s when the first moan of many to come left your lips, being muffled into the kiss and your stomach exploding with butterflies.

But just like with any other aspect of your life, you were impatient, so when he pushed a finger inside of you, you broke free of the kiss and shook your head, reaching your hand down to stop him by his wrist.

“No, you’re going too slow.” You panted, pulling his hand away and looking into his darkened eyes. “I need you, now.”

Your voice thinned into a whisper toward the end and you brought your hands back up to his face.

He remained still for a few seconds, just looking at you with his usual stoic expression and pursed lips, but the soon dipped down to meet your face again, brushing his lips against yours so lightly you could barely feel it, before pressing down with more force.

What started off as a close-mothed kiss quickly turned into an open-mouthed one, and you moved down on the mattress, raising your legs to wrap them around his waist as he positioned himself at your entrance.

He wasn’t fully erected yet, as was to be expected seeing as you had barely touched him and things had moved so quickly, but the second he was fully sheathed inside of you, that changed in an instant.

The feeling of being filled so perfectly caused your face to screw up in pleasure and he couldn’t help but let a small groan slip past his lips, really showing how long it had been since he last partook in sexual activities.

But he wasn’t the only one who had gone untouched for a long period of time. When you worked a job as stressful and time-consuming as yours, it was hard to find enough spare time to get out and meet any potential lovers, so it was safe to say that it had been just as long for you as it had for him and it didn’t take long for you to let out a moan to match his own.

He wasted no time in starting to move, encouraged to do so by the way your legs tightened around his hips to pull him in deeper.

You clung to him with all your might as he slowly but surely picked up his pace and found a good rhythm, squeezing your eyes shut and being reminded of the fever you still had when feeling the brims of your eyes sting.

Your hands moved to grasp at the back of his head and you pressed your lips against his, baiting a groan from his throat when tightening your grip on the strands of raven hair you held between your fingers.

His movements were confident and his lips moved skillfully from yours to your jaw, down to your neck before settling in the crook of your neck.

One of his hands moved from the mattress to hold on to the headboard of the bed and his toned arm flexing and unflexing right over your face was without a doubt the most attractive sight you’d ever seen.

“Hotch...” You moaned out between thrusts, and he grumbled in return.

“Aaron.” He corrected you darkly, and you drew in a gasp of air at the sound.

“Aaron-” You began repeating, but was quickly cut off by your own moan and after that, no more words were spoken.

The heavy breaths he released in the crook between your neck and shoulder only added to the already existing dampness on your skin, courtesy of the fever that you had almost forgotten was still there, and it was only now that the heat that had previously been restricted to the outer layer of your skin caught up with the rest of your body and made its way into your core.

The only sounds that could be heard was the heavy rain smattering on the metal ceiling outside your room, mixing in with the pants and low moans and groans escaping your lips, the creaking of the headboard that Hotch was holding on to for dear life, and the slapping of skin on skin.

He didn’t slow down once and not as much as a word was spoken, every emotion and feeling instead being voiced in sounds of pleasure and the occasional kiss when he brought his head up from your neck for air.

You got completely lost in the pleasure and you had no idea how long you went on for, but soon enough, you were beginning to get sore, the pleasure starting to switch into a mild discomfort.

But as if right on cue, the guttural groans muffling into your damp skin became more frequent, and before you knew it, Hotch’s entire body tensed up as he reached his climax and released inside of you.  

But you weren’t quite there yet, never having been able to orgasm just by penetration.

You didn’t know how he was able to do both at the same time, but as he rode out his high, Hotch brought his hand down from the headboard and in between your bodies at the same time, heading right for the throbbing bundle of nerves where he wasted no time in getting to work.

That was the final touch you needed for your stomach to begin to turn. The combination of the way he was hitting the perfect spot over and over again and his thumb showing no mercy was so intense that you reached your high in no time.

You pressed your face into his neck just like he was doing yours, your fingers tugging on his hair so harshly that you probably crossed the line between pleasurable and painful. But he didn’t make note on it, picking up his pace as a string of curses left your lips, blending with your moans and mixing with his name, something he was clearly liking the sound of.

And just as you toppled of the edge, bright flashes flashing on the inside of your eyelids as your entire stomach pulled into a tight knot, the lights in the ceiling of the room flashed as well, the radiator over by the window buzzing to life as the power returned.

Talk about timing.

He kept on pumping into you with sloppy, lazy thrusts as you rode out your high and as soon as he felt you relax around him again, his entire body slumped against yours in a moment of exhaustion.

You laid limp, chest rising and falling in quick pants as you caught your breath. His hand moved up to hold himself upright by the head of the bed and your hands remained at the back of his neck, fingers gently pulling through his hair that was now damp with sweat.

After a moment of silence, he moved off of you, allowing you to properly breathe.

“How’s your head?” He asked.

His voice was strained and it was clear that now that the arousal was gone and everything was over and done with, neither of you had any idea of how to act.

Pulling one of the blankets up to your shoulders and holding it in place over you previously exposed chest, you cleared your throat.

“All good.” You replied breathlessly and just then, reality came crashing back down, an involuntary shiver going down your spine and rocking your entire body as it became aware of the chilliness of the air around you.  

He caught on to this at once and turned his head to look at you with a deadpanned expression. “You’re still shivering, you should go take a warm shower before you go to sleep.”

His words brought a small snort from your lips. “I’m not shivering, I’m trembling. There’s a difference.” You answered, raising an eyebrow. “But I won’t say no to a shower.” You sighed, and as you wasted no time in beginning to get out of the bed, Hotch averted his eyes to the roof to give you some privacy.

The cold air hit you like a train when you removed the blankets from your body, your shivers becoming worse now with the layer of drying sweat on your skin.

It wasn’t until you stood up that the fever came crashing down on you with full force again, a spell of hot dizziness taking over you. You had to hold on to the wall beside the bed to regain your composure and once you did, you began walking, only then realizing how sore you really were.

As quickly as your quivering legs would take you, you walked into the bathroom and flicked on the light in the ceiling before heading straight for the shower.

As you turned on the faucet this time, you were pleased to discovered that the hot water had returned along with the power, and you closed your eyes in satisfaction even when the water had yet to touch any other part of your body than your fingers.

You remained standing there for a moment, holding yourself upright by the sink while waiting for the water to reach the perfect temperature.

You then brought your hand back to yourself and turned back around as you let the water run behind you.

Hotch was still in your bed, now having moved into a sitting position and absentmindedly fiddling with the watch on his wrist, seeming to be deep in thought.

And you were a profiler. You could tell with no struggle at all what was bothering him; guilt, most likely directed toward Haley as he had just been with another woman for the first time since the divorce.

The fact made you feel all kinds of feelings, and you slowly walked back to the doorway, on which you leaned as you continued watching him from a distance.

“I’m still really cold, you know.” You commented lamely, hoping that he’d take the hint on what you were trying to say.

His head slowly turned in your direction, his eyes tired and lips pulled into a straight line. His eyes wandered your still naked form for the briefest of second, but he quickly caught himself and averted them to yours.

“I thought you said you weren’t cold anymore.” He answered in a monotone voice, and you raised your eyebrows in return.

“Did I? I don’t think I did.” You played, absentmindedly tapping your fingers against the wooden doorframe.

He stared at you for a second, not seeming to care about you in the slightest anymore. But tthe way his lips then pulled into a small smile when looking at you showed you that he did, in fact, catch on to your intent.

And when he wordlessly got out of bed and started walking in your direction, leading you into the shower with a featherlight touch to the small of your back, you knew for a fact that the moment of passion you had just shared had been much more than just an act executed in the heat of the moment.

But if you thought that you were off the hook regarding your irresponsible behavior during the case just because you now happened to have your boss wrapped around your finger, you had another thing coming.

Tagged: @must-be-a-weasley-92​ @zizzlekwum​ @cozytruecrimeaddict​ @lovelynervouskingdom​ @rousethemouse​

(If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, send me a message, ask or leave a comment)

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Stressed to Kill (one-shot)

Regulus Black au 

Request:  I am OBSESSED with all the Regulus content. It is amazing. I was wondering if you could do a reader x regulus where the reader is having a bad day from the stress of the exams and he cuddles them to sleep. again love your writing. :) 

@wolfstar4lifee- I hope you enjoy this, love 

Rating: T 

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

________________________

“Regulus, we have a problem.”

Regulus looked up at Evan’s comment. When Evan said that there was a problem it usually went one of three ways…

1. There was a problem and Evan needed help deciding whose ass to kick first. 2. Evan was just being the over-dramatic person that he was and was only being mildly inconvenienced by something. 3. There actually was a problem and for whatever reason Regulus had to solve it. Closing his book, Regulus leaned back in his seat and observed his friend’s face closely for any clues. Evan honestly looked bothered by something.

Number 3, it is.

Regulus thought before speaking.

“What’s wrong?’

Evan motioned to the stairs.

“I just came from the common room and Y/n is having a hell of a day. Has she talked to you about it?”

Regulus shook his head. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen you all morning. He had been practicing quidditch for the tournament most of the day. Normally, he had every morning and afternoon with you until practice but today was different.

“No, what’s going on?”

Regulus questioned automatically worried. There wasn’t much that typically phased you. You were that unshakable wall of steel that Regulus had come to love so much.

“Well, she kind of slipped on a Gryffindor during potions then stormed out leaving Slughorn looking totally baffled. After I went back to the common room, she had taken over three tables and spread all of her notes from each class in a freakishly color-coded system. I was being adorable and she threatened to cut my hand off if I touched them.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. He knew that you were beginning to worry about exams. Hell, everyone was worried about exams but you possibly more than most people. The Rosiers put a lot of “high” expectations on their children when it came to grades. You exceeded your parent's expectations with flying colors. They expected good grades from Evan but only half of the time got them.

“That sounds like your sister. It's getting late. I’ll go talk to her, you cowering wimp.”

Evan sat down with a thankful smile on his face.

“I owe you so much.”

Regulus rolled his eyes and headed down to the dungeons. He was beginning to wonder why you weren’t at dinner. Now he had his answer

Stepping into the Slytherin common room, Regulus was surprised to see that Evan wasn’t over-exaggerating like normal. You stood looking over what had to be three tables worth of notes with an exasperated expression on your pretty face.

Raising an eyebrow, Regulus walked over to join you. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even seem to notice your boyfriend’s presence. Regulus blinked a few times before looking down at the parchment in front of him. All of the notes were color-coded by class, semester, lesson, and date.

“Sugar, how long have you been awake?”

Regulus asked, softly. You finally looked up, clearly surprised to see Regulus.

“Reg, hi. Sorry but no time. I need answers.”

You had been obsessing over exams for weeks now...well maybe obsessing since the day before yesterday. As the exam day came closer, you began to worry even more. The last thing that you wanted was to fail an exam or make less than exceeds expectations. Your mother and father would expect this out of you.

Regulus sighed.

“No, you need sleep. I’ve seen you like this before.”

“Regulus is right, Y/n. This is just like the time in 5th year when you were going bananas over the OWLS.”

Both Regulus and yourself turned to see Evan standing by the couch with a huge cheesy smile on his face.

“Guys, I don’t need sleep. I need answers.”

Regulus gave Evan a look before stepping closer to you.

“Sweetheart, how about this, let's go up to my bed and have a little nap. When we wake up, I’ll come down here and help you go through all of this.”

“While you two are taking a nap, I can go through all of this for a headstart.”

Evan offered. You immediately shook your head. The last thing that you wanted was your brother to go through ANY of your schoolwork. You would come back down to a hellish disaster that you would never be able to fix.

“I would rather the giant squid do it.”

You snapped in Evan’s direction. Evan looked highly offended as Regulus shook his head mouthing

“Mate, stop.”

Eva blinked a few times before sitting down on the couch.

“Fine, I’ll just guard the table.”

Regulus turned his attention back to you with a smile. He traced a finger over your cheek, earning a small sigh. Regulus knew that he had you exactly where he wanted.

“Come on, sugar.”

You didn’t fight Regulus this time. He interlocked your hand with his as he led you to the boy dormitory. Regulus was right, as usual. You were exhausted and the prospect of falling asleep in Regulus’ arm was a great opportunity.

Regulus tugged his jumper over his head before lying down and holding out his arms.

“Come here, darlin.”

You shrugged your robe off and stepped out of your shoes before crawling into bed beside Regulus. Since you had begun dating Regulus, you had been spending a lot of time locked in Regulus’ bed with the curtains closed. Evan had even suggested making a “keep out” sign so people would think that the two of you were forming some secret club and not having sex.

You wasted no time in snuggling against Regulus’ chest. He pulled the blanket up and snugged his face against the top of your head.

“Mum said you can stay over the summer if you want.”

Regulus said with a yawn. He had obviously not noticed how exhausted he was too. You would have sat up and looked at him surprised but you didn’t want to move from your cocoon.

“Yeah?”

You questioned. Regulus had been on a kick about you staying at Grimmauld Place over the summer. Neither of you really wanted to face the idea of a summer apart and apparently, Walburga was taking sympathy upon you.

“Yeah, I suppose she assumes that we are going to get married after next school year anyway. She probably wants to see if we can live together over the summer without killing each other.”

“Lucky for us, we have never had an argument.”

You said, yawning. Regulus had to agree there. While other couples that the two of you knew were fighting with each other, Regulus and yourself calmly talked about problems. You were supportive of what he was doing with becoming a death eater. The two of you knew it was, for the most part, expected. You were that soft comforting place for Regulus to look forward to getting back to.

“Well, we are going to live happily ever after.”

Regulus commented. He knew the comment was lame and his brain was internally throwing up about that even coming out of his mouth. Just when had he become so mushy over a girl?

“Just accept it. She has you whipped.”

Regulus thought with a smile.

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

You replied, clearly about to doze off. Regulus leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you.”

“Love you too, prince charming.”

You muttered, feeling for the first time that day, at peace. You didn’t care about the exams, your parent's expectations, your older brother who was now moving your notes, or anything else. The only thing that you cared about was snuggling closer to Regulus and getting some well-deserved sleep.

__________

@amelie-black @regulusslut @mellifluous-cosmos @fandomsxxregulus @realgaytrash @georgeweasleydumbhoe @jessyballet @knreidy1 @quuenofblacks @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @harrysnosebleed @dumybitch @zievyimas @hazncalsgal @rubyroscoe1 @wolfstar4lifee @bennyberry @criminalyetminimal @whymyparentscheckmyphone @siriuslyceleste @acciosiriusblack @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @li0nh34rt @tas898 @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @knight-of-gleefulness @stuckinsaudi1 @marichromatic @untoldshortsofthefandoms @siriuslyceleste @wontlookaway @shitfaceddaniel @mycuddlycorner

[loveless-scribes]

Uchiha Itachi: NSFW Alphabet

So, it has come to my attention that Itachi of the Uchiha has been done a disservice in the eyes of the internet and been called terrible names. *COUGH* vanilla *COUGH* basic *HACK* I assure you, my friends, nothing could be further from the truth! And so, I present to you, my interpretation of the one and only. Enjoy.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Aftercare is not optional. It is just as much a part of the experience as foreplay and the actual sex. 

Will he clean you up? Not religiously, like it’s something he’ll do every time, but yes, he would. If you’re still feeling tired or lingering in bed by the time he’s gotten cleaned up, he wouldn’t think twice and just take care of you as well. If you mention that you think it’s sweet or you enjoy it, then… YES, he would absolutely start doing this religiously. 

Expect hairstroking and holding you to his chest, letting you listen to his heartbeat. If you want to share your 4 AM thoughts here, he’ll be down for it and let you know what he thinks about your ideas. After you’ve fallen asleep he will stay awake sorting through his thoughts, over what it means to have you by his side and the risks involved for you. This is pretty much the only time in the day that it’s safe to be vulnerable with his thoughts and so, this is where he will think about what you mean to him, and press a kiss to your forehead before finally going to sleep himself. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Eyes, definitely. The eyes are known to be the windows to the heart and his own eyes define so much of his life and his destiny, so yes, he could stare into his partner’s eyes for an almost uncomfortably long time, drinking them in. I can’t really say he’s a butt or boobs guy cuz that’s not how his mind is wired. He’s wired to be mission-oriented and there’s no room in his mind for distractions but on his S/O he would appreciate and worship every inch of her. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Um… breeding kink, anyone? Defo see him as having one. Is this an underlying psychological thing because he was deprived of having a normal family? At the same time, though, he’s in no rush to have children of his own, because he knows what a terrible place this world can be. But the desire to spill his seed deep into his S/O’s womb is deeply ingrained. Modern birth-control would really solve this problem. 

Also, swallowing. *COUGH* If someone does this for him it will go straight to his head. Prepare to be rewarded. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Hmm… I almost feel guilty about characterizing him like this, but I could see him somewhere deep down having a desire to have his partner submit to him? Not in the sense that he would ask for that, but if he had a wet dream about his S/O she would probably be on her knees, and he would feel guilty about it the next day and be a little sweeter than usual to her. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Okay! So, this is an unpopular opinion, but I don’t think Itachi is inexperienced! Even if we take Canon!Ita (but maybe age him up a little) I feel like there could be situations, mission-related, or pursued by women he objectively finds appealing, where saying no is just more inconvenient than going along with it. Especially if it’s for the sake of a mission, he wouldn’t think twice. Or if he does it in order to not blow his cover. While he does largely turn admirers away, more for their own good and because he’s generally not interested, I do believe he could have realistically encountered situations in his travels that led to sexual encounters. He hasn’t taken a vow of chastity, so I don’t see why he should go to unreasonable lengths to say no?

So yeah, in my mind he definitely has some experience, but not a whole lot. Obviously, he takes necessary precautions to ensure those brief dalliances stay just that. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Hahahaha, so I had to do some research to find out what this position is called. The Mastery? Basically, it’s woman on top but the couple is in a seated position. Meaning, he gets to look into your eyes and just basically, the heightened intimacy and closeness of this position are what does it for him. Also, he has more control than in the normal girl-on-top position, so he can control the pace somewhat and help you out. 

But if you’re tired, he’ll pick you up and flip positions, he won’t wait for you to admit you’re tired and he won’t listen to your protests. He wants to see you out of your mind in ecstasy, not wondering whether or not you’re too tired to continue. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Alright, so it’s Itachi, right? He isn’t very jokey. That just is what it is. He might do something unintentionally that might make you giggle, or you could laugh out of nervousness and while he very much enjoys that sound he doesn’t really know how to provoke it from you. It’s just not his area of expertise. (Sorry, Ita. Couldn’t give you this one.)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Hmm… well, Itachi definitely is clean by nature, and is definitely well-groomed and particular in all aspects of his life, so… I’m going to go with trimmed. Neat and orderly. Just like everything else about him. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I lowkey just want to link my oneshots to this, cuz they say it all, but alright! He will want to be connected to his S/O. That means either being able to see her face, or if the position doesn’t allow for it to hear her voice the entire time. He’s good at that. He’s so sweet and considerate and perceptive. He knows what’s working for you and what isn’t even without you saying a word, He may not have a whole lot of experience, but he has an innate talent (because doesn’t he just… with everything?) and he’s an exceptionally quick learner. He will legit ruin you for anyone else because if you ever ARE with anyone else and they snap at you, “What do you think I am, a mind reader?” You’ll realize what Itachi was doing.

So, yeah. He wants to make sure you’re into it and you’re taken care of and you’re near delirious with pleasure before he decides to let go himself. Being self-sacrificial and caring for others is in his nature. So, yeah, you really need to man up and figure out what he needs because he isn’t going to tell you. But you’re smart. You’ll work it out. (OR JUST READ THE REST OF THIS ALPHABET.)

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Sorry, no. Don’t see him doing this. You have to consider how disciplined the guy is, and how insanely busy. It really is kind of a waste of time at the end of the day and if he wants it that badly, he can just make the trip to see you. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Teasing, edging, getting you to beg. He feels bad for you, he really does. But how much more can you take? You won’t know until you know. He’ll reward you for your patience though. And let’s be honest, you’ll love it, teasing and all. Not to mention mindfucking you to oblivion.  

So, I went through an alleged “complete” list of 239 kinks to try and answer this question and most of it was just… weird. So, let’s do this differently. What follows is an incomplete list of things I could potentially see him being into or good at or have an interest in. In no particular order: mirrors, sub/dom play (with a little coaxing and admitting to himself that this is even a thing that he’s into. It would absolutely be limited to the bedroom, though), sensory deprivation, and.... bear with me here, but… I could see him having a hand for Shibari. THINK ABOUT IT. Those knots and things they learned to tie in the ninja academy? And we know Itachi is the best of the best in everything he does. So, I don’t think this is beyond the realm of possibility. 

Generally speaking, though, he just doesn’t have the time for this stuff. BUT IF HE DID…

And now, this is exclusive to AM!Ita but he most likely has a praise kink. Being hated and cursed for eons, and being disillusioned with his own role, if his S/O comes in and tells him how great he is, how handsome, how wonderful. How good he is at what he does. How wonderful he makes her feel. Mmmm. I can see that doing things to him. XD

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Ideally, in a lake or a river. Outdoor bathing spaces are generally approached with caution, so even if someone were to come by they would call out and make sure no one is there first, which means, less risk of getting caught. And I mean, this is Itachi… He’s an S-rank exiled nin. HE KNOWS HOW TO NOT GET CAUGHT. LOL. But yeah, he spends a lot of time out-of-doors. He’s more accustomed to the starry sky overhead than the roof of a house or woodland cabin. In my interpretation, he feels very much at peace when surrounded by nature and he would enjoy being intimate with you in that setting. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Confidence. Enthusiasm. Not necessarily seduction, if it’s a stranger he’s dealing with, this is more of a turn-off than anything. But if it’s his S/O and she turns up the charm and crooks a finger at him… You might even get a smile on that stoic face. I don’t see him being into the shy and stuttering type. If you blush and say, “No! St- stop!” He’ll literally stop. And probably apologize. AND NOT DO IT AGAIN.

If you try and explain to him that your no doesn’t mean no… Ah, yeah. He’s not into that. Be straightforward. Say what you mean. Don’t play games with him. He’ll see right through you. 

That being said, being a lonely fighter all his life means he’s very sensitive to your touch. Just run a hand along his shoulder in passing and he’ll grab it and press a kiss to your palm, and haul you in. I could see him being into your hands. It really isn’t hard to turn him on, it’s hard to earn his trust and a position in his life that gives you the right to touch him and be touched by him. But when you’re there, it’s the easiest thing in the world. A smile, a kiss, a brush of your fingers over his collarbones. He’s a goner. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Pegging. This goes without saying. I can’t really think of much else he wouldn’t be into. I mean, stuff that’s a little more out there. Watersports. Daddy/Mommy kinks. Actual exhibitionism, (not genjutsu version) no way is he going to let anyone look in on your most intimate moments. Impact play. He knows very well what his hands are capable of, and there’s a lot of blood on them, so he really wouldn’t be into stuff that involves actually hurting you. 

If his S/O likes it VERY rough, he might resort to genjutsu so that she gets what she wants, but he doesn’t have to actually hurt her. Other than that, bruising, choking, the usual level of roughness? Bring it on. Being adept with his hands also means he knows very well where that fine line between pain and pleasure is. 

Not to mention, he’s very perceptive, so he’ll figure out what you’re into even without you saying it. He’s also very giving so he’ll focus more on your preferences than his own. But if the day ever comes where you realize what submission does to him… The man would be putty in your hands. Kukukukuku...

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Both. 

Giving, because he has absolute control over your pleasure, and because he enjoys how easily he can drive you out of your mind. We’ve established that he’s a terrible tease, so driving you to the brink and leaving you hanging, feeling every single one of your reactions… It’s good stuff. 

Receiving takes the cake though. Being that vulnerable with someone, even having someone he can trust that much. It’s definitely something he’s very partial to, something that makes him soft towards you, and something that plays into his forbidden desire of seeing you submit, whether or not he’s aware of it. He’ll make sure to return the favor tenfold.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

This is an odd question I think, because… doesn’t it depend? On how much time he has, on how the two of you are feeling, on what the mood is? 

Anyways, I’m going to go ahead and say slow and sensual because he really is a man who likes to take his time with you. He likes to feel every one of your responses, hear every little mewl and whimper and moan that crosses your lips. He definitely makes it an experience. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not his preference, but he isn’t above having a quickie if that’s all that time allows. But he would definitely follow up with a proper session at a later time, then. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Itachi is so nice. He really is. There’s nothing you could want that he wouldn’t be willing to try at least once for your sake. I mean, apart from the stuff listed under “N”. 

And would he take risks? YES, HE WOULD. Because his assessment of the risks varies greatly from yours. So, something that you would think is very risky, might seem not risky at all to him, because he knows exactly how to go unseen, unnoticed. You might think he’s being risky, but he’s well aware there was a 0% chance you were going to get caught. Because Itachi skillz.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Stamina! *insert sparkles* AM!Ita has been established in the works, so I think that needs no comment. Canon!Itachi is a freaking fighter. An S-class exiled nin. Someone who claims Itachi has no stamina wants to start something with me. DID YOU SEE HIM HAND SASUKE’S ASS TO HIM? Despite his illness? He lost because he CHOSE to lose. I don’t see the Akatsuki hauling out a wheelchair for Itachi to go on his missions, so don’t go telling me nothing about Itachi having no stamina. SHAKE MY HEAD WHILE JUDGING YOU.

Dude is strong as hell. And you can’t tell me some bedroom fun is more physically taxing than literal superhuman battles against huge ass tailed beasts! It’s just ridiculous. I’m not here to rant. Better calm down.

I’m here to tell you our man can go for at least three rounds and you will *GUARANTEED* always tire out before he does. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yes. The sharingan. THE ONLY TOY YOU WILL EVER NEED. As mentioned above, he’s not above using his skills to heighten your pleasure, and mess with your mind. But actual, physical toys? Nah, the thought processes that would lead to considering, comparing, and actually purchasing those are just so foreign to his thinking. It would never even cross his mind. What can a toy even do that he can’t do better? (To his thinking anyway. Well, he’s not wrong.)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He will make you beg. Absolutely. He’s totally unfair. He will have casual conversations with you while driving you out of your wits. And then he’ll ask you why you’re not answering him. Ask you what’s wrong. Ask you what you want. LIKE HE DOESN’T KNOW. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Itachi is very restrained and disciplined so, unfortunately, this means he isn’t very vocal. I know, cry with me, it’s such a waste. *hires an orchestra of the world’s smallest violins* BUT that means when you do manage to make him groan or moan in pleasure, it’s such a huge ego boost. Apart from the sounds he makes when hitting a climax, he’s generally in control and whispering praise and teasings into your ear or over your skin.

If you want him to talk, get on your knees and give him some head. Not kidding. Mentioned it above already. He gets to let go, a lot of his secret kinks are getting fulfilled, he feels vulnerable and is cool with it. He’ll dig his hands into your hair, cup your cheek, his eyes will roll into the back of his head and he’ll tell you on a low moan what a good girl you are. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

So, let’s say you’re waiting to talk to him and he’s busy meeting with some people or whatever and you’re standing off to the side patiently. He just briefly glances at you before turning back to his comrades and BOOM. Next thing you know, he’s got you by the neck, has you pinned against his desk/table/whatever (this was originally a Hokage!Ita headcanon so do with that what you will), and is doing unspeakable things to you in front of everyone. No sooner does the encounter come to an end, than you suddenly wake up and find yourself still standing right where you were, until it happens again, and this time he takes you against the wall. It’s an illusion wrapped in an illusion wrapped in an illusion more times than you can count and when you finally do come to your senses, you can barely stand. The meeting is over. Itachi turns toward you, “You wanted to speak with me?”

Ah, yes. Good old Itachi mindfuckery.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I mean, muscles, yes? Lots of them. Man’s fit as a fiddle. He’s a ninja. So, yes, the entire delicious length of him is covered in lean, firm muscle. He’s clearly well-endowed because… he just is. Maybe not the longest cucumber in the farmer’s market (which isn’t to say he isn’t long, because he is… don’t claim I called him short) but thick and veiny and above all else, attached to a man with a brain who knows how to use it efficiently. Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

This is a tough one, because the constraints are not on his drive, but on his time. He’ll take whatever chances he can to be with you. AM!Ita is established to have a very high sex drive, but he also has restraint, so when you’re not into it, he’s cool with it. As if that would ever happen. So, I would have to say, the actual encounters will unfortunately be far between because of his lifestyle, but he will always make up for lost time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Kind of already mentioned this above, that those moments afterwards with you are his most vulnerable moments where he feels relatively safe and at ease, so he stays awake for a long time after, sorting through his thoughts. Also, he won’t say this to you, but it’s his job to protect you, so there is no way he’ll fall asleep before you do. Not gonna happen.

[kyloswarstars]

ROOMMATES • Part 3

Divergent • College AU • Eric x Reader

ROOMMATES masterlist 💫 Divergent masterlist

You escaped your current living situation by moving in with your friend Christina – and five other college students. Little did you know that one of them was the guy who was your ultimate pain in the neck since your first semester. Now, you had to find a way to not strangle him in his sleep out of pure frustration. Also, you had to find a way to get rid of those weird butterfly feelings for him that slowly grew in your stomach.

Words • 2.9k

The enemies to lovers story no one needed.

/////

Still sleeping on only a mattress slowly took its toll on your back. You woke up at least three times a night. Twice because of your back and once because of some knocking against the wall. Every time that happened, it was in another rhythm how knuckles tried to keep you from sleeping.

For a while you observed how the morning sunshine dipped your room in a warm orange. Dust particles were dancing through the air and made their way to the floor. There was something about waking up to the sun on weekday mornings you never were able to enjoy during your semesters. Summer break was perfect for that.

That comforting silence didn’t last forever, though. Low knocking echoed from the other side of the room. You turned your body to face it. That rhythm was new. Different than those in the middle of the night. You paid attention.

Short, long. Short, long, long. Short, long. Long, short, long. Short. Short, short, long, long, short, short.

AWAKE?

You blankly stared at the wall and couldn’t believe it. During your childhood you had done the weirdest things, such as learning the morse code, to keep you occupied. Had Eric done that too? Or did he use a chart to knock you with little messages out of your sleep?

You didn’t care. You just wanted some little more peace before getting up. So you responded.

Short, short, short. Short, short, short, short. Short, short, long. Long. Short, short, long. Short, long, long, short.

There was a small laughter to be heard from the other side of the wall but then it stayed quiet.

Even though Eric’s teasing was quiet disturbing, you still rather lived here than back with your ex. You could somehow handle Eric whereas you never really knew what to expect from your ex after breaking up with him. After all it had not been the funniest of times.

You grabbed the nearest shorts and rummaged through the pockets to find a paper. Hilbert’s ninth problem. You focused on that. Until you heard Eric’s door making that cracking open sound. His foot steps trailed to the kitchen and when the coffee machine made its ‚PING‘ to signal it was ready to brew, you got up yourself and out of your room.

Eric didn’t say ‚good morning‘ so neither did you.

Reaching out for the shelf to grab a cup, you once again didn’t reach it. He leaned over, almost right into you with his bare chest – why did he never wear shirts in the mornings? – and grabbed two cups from the shelf. Eric placed them right next to the coffee machine and then turned, crossed his arms and just stared at you.

First, his intense eyes locked with yours. There was no way you could possibly guess what he was thinking with the harsh face he was wearing. Eric’s slightly pinched eyes made you lose some of your self esteem, though. His unapologetic stares weren’t that new to you, but only wearing your sleeping attire, a tank top and some sleeping shorts, made you feel insecure when his glance diverted to the rest of your body. You crossed your arms to have some little cover at least.

„Where’s everyone at?“ You asked, trying to fill that damn awkward silence. The apartment was empty, with all of the doors open.

„Don’t know.“

Another ‚PING‘ chimed. You walked around Eric, since he was still occupied with weirdly staring into your face, and poured some coffee into a cup. You hesitated to put back the pot into the machine and actually poured coffee into the second cup as well. Then you quickly grabbed your cup and went out to sit on the balcony. Gladly, you noticed him leaving for his room.

A morning coffee, a refreshing shower and an after shower coffee later, you continued with the study. You finally had found a way to properly lock the bathroom from the inside. The trick was to just drag your chair across the hallway and slam it under the door handle. That worked just fine. Unpleasant was, though, that there was not much that had to be done for the study today. No new data yet, still you tried to blindly swim around the model and work on some problems you weren’t able to solve yet. Free time wasn’t your favorite thing to have during summer break, especially not this summer break. You were still a little peeved that your friends had just abandoned you on the day of you moving. So meeting up with them wasn’t on your to do list for this summer.

Neither was visiting your parents since they were living out of state. You didn’t really want to head down to the hell the Florida Keys were in summer. It would be even hotter than here in Chicago. None of your hobbies sounded appealing enough to you today and all your roommates were gone. Except for one.

The only thing on your to do list was to buy a new bed frame.

„Shouldn’t you be out and do something instead of constantly crouching over your desk?“ Again, he leaned in the doorframe and you didn’t know for how long Eric was already there.

„Can’t,“ you were actually tracking down a possible solution and couldn’t be bothered to concentrate on anywhere else than your calculations.

„What is it that’s so important?“ It was the first time he entered your room. You noticed him move out of the corner of your eye and sensed him coming to a stop right next to you. He must’ve checked your computer screen and the papers in front of you. You couldn’t really care, though. Whenever one of those problem-solving-trains hit, you just physically couldn’t stop yourself. „Is that professor Matthews’ study?“

„Yep,“ you mumbled.

„I heard about it, tried to get in but that didn’t work out.“ His voice had a tone you had never heard before. „What’s your part in it?“ Was it honest interest?

„I’m responsible, with others of course, for the mathematical model. But please shut up for a few second okay? I’m almost done.“ You tried to talk and still follow your train of thoughts. „Just need to get it out of the brain.“

Eric stayed surprisingly silent while your hand was still moving around your desk, fishing for various papers and scribbling onto them in the illegible handwriting of yours.

You threw the pencil away, once you were mainly done with bringing the theory on paper. „So what do you wanna know?“ You asked and turned around in the same moment. That Eric had kneeled down next to you had escaped your attention. You blinked at him, his face only a couple of inches away. That this proximity suddenly slowed up your pulse confused you. He was too close. Way too close. You leaned back in your chair and swallowed.

Eric on the other hand didn’t seem to be uncomfortable at all. „How did you get in?“

„They asked, actually.“

„They asked?“ His eyebrows raised themselves to the top of Willis Tower.

„Yes.“ You replied, a little unsure of why that would be so odd. Back during high school there was this hype your teachers made about your mathematical skills. But that wasn’t reason for you to think that you were some wunderkind like Einstein or something. You just liked math. Like some people actually did. Not many, but those in your major all had similar experiences during their childhood and school time. So of course, when they had asked you to join the study, you accepted.

Eric let himself sink against the wall next to your makeshift desk. It was the first time you ever saw something like true recognition radiating off of him. And he didn’t hide it. He wanted to know more. He questioned a lot about the study and your part in it. He was interested in how math helped with a clinical study and it slowly dawned on you why he might’ve taken all those classes of yours. Those were all about adapting math in a way to help solve social orientated problems.

After having to compete with him for the upper hand in those stupid debates, you were a little gleeful that it was you who took part in professor Matthews’ study.

This conversation was everything but a discussion. And you found that it could be really enjoyable to have a decent talk with him. You even offered to put in a good word for him at the next meeting with the staff. No clue where this came from, though.

„Hey, Eric?“ The two of you had changed from your room to the dining table because of the close-by coffee refuels. „Would you do me a favor?“

He was currently getting the freshly brewed pot and nodded to the empty cup in your hands so he could refill it. You handed it to him. „What kind of favor?“

„I need a car,“ you stated, instantly noticing the disdain on his face. „Only for a couple of hours. Not long.“

Eric shook his head. „I’m not lending my car.“ He returned the hot cup and sat down across from you. „I can drive you, though,“ Eric added.

That took you by surprise. „Oh.“ You hadn’t thought he would give his car to you in the first place anyway. Wondering where this kindness suddenly came from left you without an answer. But you decided to accept it. „Okay.“

/////

Eric’s mission was to try every single bed in the furniture store. You tried to explain it didn’t really matter anyways since you already had a mattress. He insisted on still laying down and pulled you along with him. „A new bed,“ he said, „must meet many requirements. Not only the coziness factor of the mattress.“ His voice was a whisper next to you. That low rasp in it drew your attention to his full lips, perfectly framed by the stubble he rarely cared to shave.

Finding yourself laying in a bed next to Eric, even if it was in a furniture store and on full public display, weirdly quickened your pulse again. The way his fingers randomly touched your thigh made you nervous. He probably didn’t even notice, or cared, that his hand was in contact with the bare skin below your shorts. Still, it let your insecurities flame up again. Laying next to a perfectly built and defined man like him brought back memories you rather wanted to escape.

„That’s not the one,“ you quickly stated and rolled out of bed. There was no paper in your pockets this time, and it wasn’t the right place anyway, to distract your brain with. Instead you concentrated on the multiple bed frames. It was a tough task – nothing really suited your taste.

„How about that one, Y/N?“ Eric had been shouting through the whole store. You turned and saw him laying in a child’s bed – car shape.

The view of his legs sticking out on the bed end, because he was simply too tall for it, made you laugh out loud. You couldn’t hold it back nor lower the volume. By the time you reached him, he had joined in on the banter. Next to the car shaped bed was a pink unicorn one. He sat on it and said you could have his bed, he would buy this one. Your laughter increased.

„You think I wouldn’t buy it?“

You shook your head, biting back the laughter.

Eric got up and looked around for a salesman. When he spotted one, he raised his hand to wave him over but you were quick to grab his hand and pull it down. „Stop it!“ For a moment too long you held onto his hand. It caused both of you to look down at your hands like they weren’t attached to your arms and had a mind to themselves. Then your eyes slowly moved up to Eric’s and locked with them. Both of you probably tried to find a reason as to why your hands were still holding onto each other. When Eric’s fingers tried to intertwine with yours, you suddenly realised that you were holding. his. hand.

You instantly let it go like you burned yourself and went back to search for a bed frame. The urge to get out of here made you choose a random but simple bed frame. The salesman Eric had wanted to wave over was now at your side to take your order.

You went with him to the check out desk, Eric quietly following the two of you, and paid for your new bed. The salesman printed out some papers, stapled them together and handed them over. „The pick up station is three blocks down the street.“ He pointed to the left of the exit.

„Thank you.“ Grabbing the papers, you headed to leave, Eric ahead of you and holding the door open.

„Have fun with the new bed,“ the salesman inappropriately winked at the two of you on your way out. When your brain processed his remark, a heat in your face rose. To your luck, Eric was walking in front of you to his car and you tried to make the heat go away by fanning your face with the papers. You didn’t understand why all of this made you feel so… weird.

The short ride to the warehouse was silent. Even with the radio on. Eric waited in the car when it came to a stop on the lot. You got out to turn in the papers and get the bed.

The sun was blazing down while you waited for the employee to return with the package. You caught Eric staring in your direction but with the sunglasses on you couldn’t see what possibly was going on his brain. But to be fair, you couldn’t even pinpoint that when he wasn’t wearing sunglasses.

„Here you go.“ A trolley with two big packages was pushed next to you. If that would fit into Eric’s muscle car? You weren’t so sure about that.

As you turned around to wave at him, he was already at your side. Was he a cat? Or why was he always able to sneak up so quietly?

He probably saw the concern on your face because he just said ‚we got this’ and pushed the trolley over to his car. Eric suggested to remove the packaging so you could play Tetris and fit everything in. That worked pretty well and you were soon ready to head home.

It was Eric who tried to remove that awkward mood between you. He just started chatting about a new group of penguins in the zoo. That he usually went there once a week since the entrance was free and that he did it to stay grounded in stressful times. A while ago he adopted a penguin called Smartie. Him being so open about something not study related was surprising but even more surprising was that he basically invited you to join him some time to go and see the new ���kids‘ as he called them.

Back home you carried all parts of the bed up to the third story. Eric left to find a proper parking space for his car and you started on building up the bed frame. The instruction must’ve been somewhere attached to the packaging you left at the warehouse because you couldn’t find it. That wasn’t too much a problem, though. Studying the parts you had for a second, you figured out a plan and already started putting pieces together when you noticed Eric, silently of course, appearing in your doorframe.

„I’ll help you,“ he offered. It didn’t sound much like an offer, though. More like a fact.

It didn’t take long with his help to build up the bed, place in the slatted frame and lift the mattress on top of it. You didn’t really have a plan where to put the bed but for some reason Eric convinced you to position it at the exact same spot your mattress had laid before.

„Thank you for your help.“ You sat down on your new bed and checked if it didn’t break with the first contact. It didn’t.

Eric’s lips parted and he wanted to say something. You couldn’t get rid of the feeling that he wanted to say something else when everything that came out was a sharp ‚Sure‘.

Before you could ask him if he’d like a beer, just to be polite after him helping you all day, he made a beeline for his room. And stayed there.

/////

He didn’t come out for dinner and you decided you didn’t care. When you finally crashed that night, after having multiple board game showdowns with Will, you instantly knew that you’d sleep well. The bed was super comfy. Eric had been right, the mattress only didn’t do the thing, everything had to match up.

You didn’t even check your phone anymore, your eyes too heavy to stay open.

A gentle knock came from the other side of the wall. You turned to it and listened.

Long, long, short. Long, short. GN. Good night? Those two knocked letters brought a faint smile to your lips you couldn’t fight. You returned the same knocks and fell asleep. Smiling.

/////

Taglist • @longlostinanotherworld • @dosentier • @dhunhdchrih

Wanna get tagged too for future updates? Lemme know 🖤

[lilikags]

Kamisato Ayato HCs

a/n: ik we know next to nothing about this man but here are my thoughts on him. no i do not believe in the scara = ayato theory. (its fine if u do tho just i don’t) 

Ayato is also a truly gentle soul but has to be tough in politics work. At home, he treats all servants with respect and gives them reasonable schedules, unlike some other heads in Inazuma. He allows them to take days off, and as long as they do their work, he’s happy. When meeting with other officials, he’s headstrong and blunt, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone and strives to keep meetings short. He keeps his points till he is forced to step down or gets his way. Many of these old men see him as a hot headed young man, but he just cannot afford to see injustice in the people. He will show respect to Baal, but he will voice his opinions that represent the citizens of Inazuma. 

ayato works better in the morning and night, afternoons are a bit of a drag to him. The thought of being able to work alone comfortably allows him to work best. The factor that allows him to work best is the fact that he is alone during these times; he prefers to get his thought process finished before showing it to anyone, with fear that he will be judged negatively before the idea is fully fleshed out. Everyone is awake in the afternoon, and only from evening to early morning is when Ayato can truly focus, for the fear of being judged is minimal. He is often treated like he’s lazy in the political courts, however there is no disputing his policies are quite thought out. 

he often stays up late and tries not to sleep in the early afternoon, but sometimes he just ends up falling asleep at that time. The schedule that allows him to work best is to work till lunch, sleep till the evening, then get back to work. 

When Ayato takes his naps in the afternoon, he puts his hand protectively around your waist and snuggles his face into your neck. He puts the curtains up but a bit of light comes though, when it’s summer you can feel a light breeze through the windows and the sound of birds chirping from the gardens. It smells like afternoon dew, and the fountain in the garden is what you can hear most clearly. Within minutes, you can hear Ayato lightly snoring, his breath slowing into a steady rhythm. 

Ayato loves traditional Japanese gardens, he finds serenity in walking through them alone. He’ll often find himself in he garden his grandfather built and he’s just listen to nature when he has the time. Oftentimes, he’ll be found doing this in the early afternoon, before getting ready to take his nap in the afternoon. He’ll stroll in the evenings too, to help him properly wake up from the sleeping haze he was in before. 

Ayato wants to believe the other heads of clans care about the people of Inazuma, but he knows they’re just sucking up to Baal. He doesn’t want to show disloyalty, but he also wants to help the citizens in his line of work. He’ll often switch between what Baal wants and what he believes is best for the people, and he’s known for his brilliant policies on both sides. If he’s feeling up to it, he can convince a unanimous vote in his favor for the policy made for the people. Sometimes, he’ll disguise it to be one of their liking, but in due time, it’ll turn on them. 

Ayato is very good at predicting the future. No, he’s not any sorts of prophet, but he often runs simulations of everything. This allows him to see what might happen in he future, and he will make decisions accordingly. Of course, he can’t truly predict using anything else than logic and reason, and sometimes, he could be wrong. After all, he doesn’t know everything and he’s still human.

Ayato is very proud of his sister. He admires how she can help the people directly in her own way and is proud of her success. His sister is more important to him than his parents, though his parents are still important to him. He often tells her to take care of herself, but he’s the one that needs to be told that. 

Ayato often stays home for his line of work and only goes out when he needs to attend a meeting. As the head of the Kamisato clan, he does have things to take care of in the clan as well, though his and Ayaka’s younger sister tries to help him on that. His family has been pressuring him to marry a woman to take care of these affairs, but he’s not ready yet and as the head of the clan, he has the power to refuse. Though, he has lost support within a few factions attempting to gain power through marriage or connections. 

Daughters of faction leaders have often been introduced to Ayato in an attempt to gain his favor through them, though he’s shown to be fair to everyone and showing no favoritism. He’s quite closed off and only truly cares about his siblings and parents. 

Ayato often walks barefoot in his room, where he usually is. He works and sleeps in the same room, and he wears his slippers when he goes out of his room. His room’s a mess and the servants are only allowed to sweep the floors and do maintenance. There are lots of books and papers scattered, and it’s an organized mess. 

Ayato knows that sometimes, violence is inevitable to solve certain problems, but he’s rather not in all occasions. He’s not at all inept at fighting, but his strong point is in politics. His attacks are quick and forceful; if one must engage in violence, it should be done quickly. He probably has a hydro vision. He has little defensive capabilities but can dish out lots of damage quickly. His skill set would most likely make him a main dps. As he gets tired quickly, his stats make him very strong in the beginning and decrease slowly until he is swapped off the field. 

Modern!AU: this man knows all the laws and has never gotten in trouble. He drives very carefully and simply sighs when he sees someone not following them. He is always cautious and always prioritizes safety over everything. 

taglist; @paradise-creator​

[alinastracker]

If you’re still doing the prompts I have oneeeee hehe

" i mean... i-i'm cool with sharing the bed if you are. "

you got it baby 🥰

but i know something’s starting right now

It’s a sweltering Ravkan summer day, but nothing brings heat to her body like watching Mal in the pool, water droplets racing down his chest. His shaggy hair is a mop on his head, and she realizes this is what he must look like in the shower.

This is exactly why she didn’t want to bring him on the trip.

It’s the first week of July, and for the past three years, that’s meant a trip to the Os Alta Resort with Genya and Zoya. It’s a way for them to relax after exams and catch up now that they all attend different schools. But at the end of May, the two of them had FaceTimed her about a change for this year.  

“We were thinking of taking the boys with,” Genya says gently, nervous for her reaction.

Zoya is frank as ever. “It’s cheaper that way. Besides, after all this long distance, I could use a week of uninterrupted fuc—”

“Zoya!”

“Relax, Starkov. We’re all adults here.”

“Anyway,” Genya cuts in. “We’re just telling you in case you wanted to bring someone, too. Maybe Mal?”

“Mal and I aren’t dating.”

Only in her dreams.

“Might as well be,” Zoya mutters.

So in the choice between bringing Mal on what has basically turned into a couple’s retreat and going to said couple’s retreat alone, she’s chosen the former. It would be fine. Mal knows her friends. Him and Nikolai like to talk sports. Maybe it’ll be a little weird, being the only non-couple, but they could deal.

It would have been fine, if it weren’t for this morning’s check in.

"So it looks like we have you booked for three single rooms," the concierge says.

Alina frowns. "One of those should be a double."

The concierge checks again, each click of his mouse making her anxiety rise. He frowns. "Sorry, miss. It's showing me all singles."

"It's fine," Mal says. "Could we just upgrade it to a double, then?"

"Er, I'm afraid we're all booked, sir."

Nikolai claps his hands together, cheerful as ever at Zoya's side. "Well, I'll just switch with Alina, and Mal and I can — shit, Zoy!"

Zoya had stomped on his foot.

"We are not switching shit," she hisses under her breath.

Nikolai sighs. "My deadly dearest, certainly it's no big deal—"

"I bought us a new toy for this trip. We are not switching."

There is a brief moment where everyone freezes, then Genya groans, shaking her head as she murmurs apologies to the concierge, who is trying hard to pretend he hasn’t heard a thing. The tips of Mal's ears go red, and Alina is sure hers match. David, lost in his audiobook, is oblivious to all of it.

Nikolai clears his throat and turns to the two of them with a sheepish grin. "Sorry, mate. You're on your own."

The concierge slowly raises a finger and says, "We might be able to supply a cot?"

Alina can feel everyone's eyes on her, which is the last thing she ever wants. She has the strong desire to curl in on herself, but that only really works in the winter when she dons large coats and sweaters. But it’s summer, and she is in only a mustard yellow crop top and jean shorts, though she suddenly feels as exposed as if she were completely naked.

Mal takes one look at her and gently nudges his foot against hers. "I mean . . . I'm cool with sharing the bed if you are?"

Her brain is looking for anyway out of this whole conversation, so she nods.

So far, they have been in their room once to drop off their things and change into bathing suits, both of them dancing around the bed without ever touching it. The air in the room feels charged even with sunlight still pouring in. What would tonight be like?

More importantly, how was she supposed to handle sleeping beside him when she can’t even handle watching him in the pool?

Genya climbs on Mal’s shoulders for a game of chicken — David is, unsurprisingly, not in the pool, but sitting beside Alina on a lounge chair. She feels a pang of something like jealousy as she watches the game commence, which cannot be more ridiculous.

They can’t avoid the night forever, and it comes much too quickly despite how long they spend mingling at the resort bar. In their room, Mal lets Alina use the bathroom first. A kind offer, she thinks, until she realizes it leaves her to stake out a spot on the bed first. No more dancing.

Left side or right? Does Mal have a preference? Does she? How long until Mal finishes in the bathroom and comes out to see her staring at the bed like a mental person?

Right side, she chooses finally. She curls up on the left side of her body usually, so this way, she doesn’t have to face him as they sleep. Good call. As she untucks the covers from the bed, she secretly hopes to find something horrifying, like blood or bugs, so they can get a refund and leave. Sadly, it is a perfectly fine bed. Alina plops onto it and tucks herself in.

Mal finishes in the bathroom a few minutes later, and if he’s as rattled about their sleeping arrangement as she is, he does not show it. There’s plenty of space between them as he settles into bed. Maybe this won’t be as bad as she feared.

“Well, goodnight,” Mal says through a yawn.

“Goodnight,” Alina replies.

They each turn off their bedside lamps. Mal is softly snoring soon after, but Alina stays awake much too long for her liking, thinking of how close he is.

They fall into a similar routine for the next couple nights. During the day, all is fine. Their little group meshes well. Genya and Nikolai are often off together, both of them on a mission, it seems, to try every flavor of ice cream from Os Alta's ice cream bar. Or sometimes it’s Nikolai and Mal running off, joining a game of pool volleyball, both of them stupidly competitive. When Zoya gets annoyed with the overload of children at the waterpark, she joins David on one of the lounge chairs to read for a while — Zoya a smutty historical romance and David a nonfiction on modern space travel. We just shouldn't let Jeff Bezos come back, he argues to Genya later, while Zoya murmurs to Nikolai something she wants him to do to her that night.

Alina thanks the saints her room isn’t next to Zoya’s.

The trip is going so smoothly that she doesn’t realize what trouble Sunday brings with it. It’s always their favorite part of the trip: bottomless margarita night. They all have absolutely horrific, hilarious pictures and videos of themselves from the past three years thanks to bottomless margarita night at Os Alta. But the thought of being drunk like that while she’s sharing a bed with Mal?

Okay, so she just won’t drink tonight. Problem solved.

“You can’t not drink!” Zoya says, personally offended.

“Come on, it’s tradition!” Genya agrees.

But she’s determined to hold out. Only when she sees the others with their drinks, she decides one sip won’t hurt. One sip becomes one drink, and one drink becomes a couple. Soon enough, she’s drunk enough to sign herself up for karaoke, another Os Alta tradition.

“I dunno what I should siiiing,” she slurs, swaying lightly on her feet.

“I have the perfect song for you!” Genya cheers excitedly.

So that’s how she ends up on stage, drunk off her ass, horridly singing Taylor Swift’s We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. She really gets into it, jumping and nailing the talking parts a little too well. But she can hear Genya and Zoya screaming the lyrics along with her, and it only encourages her.

Genya records a Snapchat of her performance, snickering to Mal and David about how she’s going to accidentally send it to the asshole Alina dated last year who’s still entirely too obsessed with her.

Nikolai is the only one of the boys drunk enough to sign up, taking the stage after Alina to perform a disgustingly off-key version of Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now. They all agree that Freddie Mercury is rolling in his grave.

By the end of the night, the four of them are totally wasted. David, who had spent the night nursing one drink, his focus on getting Genya her drinks and ensuring that she didn’t trip over herself, has to help the aforementioned redhead up to their room. Nikolai and Zoya are a sight, both wickedly drunk, trying to help each other stay upright. Mal had only downed a couple drinks and is mostly sober, which Alina is very thankful for, as she can’t hold herself up to save her life. She nearly trips on absolutely nothing so many times that Mal finally scoops her into his arms, carrying her the rest of the way to the room. Alina giggles the whole way. 

There’s no getting ready for bed that night. Mal sets her on the bed, and she resigns to sleeping in her red summer dress. When Mal joins her after having a shower, drunk Alina has no qualms curling up against him and sniffing him.

“Mm, you smell good,” she hums.

Mal chuckles even as he tenses. Alina has her arm around him and her face pressed into his side. He’s not sure he can breathe. She’s too drunk to notice the blush on his face.

“That’s probably just because you smell like alcohol,” he hedges.

Alina giggles and shakes her head. “No, you always smell good.”

He doesn’t know what to do with this information, but he does a lot of thinking instead of sleeping as Alina passes out next to him.

Monday morning brings with it a pounding headache for Alina. She prepares for the bright sunlight streaming through the window, but the room is dark when she opens her eyes. Mal isn’t beside her, but he left aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand in addition to pulling out the blackout curtains. She falls in love with him a little bit more. 

The day is a quiet one. The girls and Nikolai spend their time at the spa, Mal and David off doing saints know what. She gets the best massage of her life, and while her head still aches despite the pain pill, seeing Nikolai get his toenails painted bright red makes every sip she had last night worth it.

When they’re in the room again after dinner, tucking themselves into bed, Mal says, “You told me I smell good last night.”

Alina pauses. “I did?”

The night comes back to her. She totally told him he smelled good, and she had closed the space between them on the bed, curling up right next to him. She remembers all of it, suddenly and painfully.

“Oh, saints. Mal, I’m so sorry. I didn’t . . . I shouldn’t have—”

He cuts her off. “It’s okay, ‘Lina. You don’t have to apologize.”

“I don’t?”

Mal smiles an amused smile and leans over, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “No, you don’t. Not you. Never you.”

Alina is almost positive she can hear her heart pounding as Mal reaches for something tucked in the drawer of his nightstand.

“For you,” he says, handing her a long rectangular box. “Saw it today when I was out with David and I just— I thought of you.”

She can’t even process the image of Mal and David out shopping together, needing to open this damn box. With shaky fingers, she lifts the lid. Waiting for her inside is a dainty necklace with a gorgeous gold sun charm.

“Oh,” she says softly.

Mal blushes, and this time, Alina notices. “Do you like it?” he asks. “I just thought of you singing last night when I saw it. You’re so bright, Alina. All the time. Just like the sun.”

She has no idea what this confession means, or how she earned it from drunkenly telling him how good he smells — which his really quite good — but her heart has kicked into overdrive. She isn’t sure what, or how, but she knows something’s starting right now.

“I love it, Mal.” She turns so her back is facing him and hands over the necklace. “Will you help me put it on?”

He wraps the chain around her neck. The sun rests perfectly against her heart. She notices every little brush of his fingers against the back of her neck as Mal works the clasp.

When the necklace is secure, they both lay back down, noticeably closer this time. Not as close as last night, but close enough that their arms occasionally brush, close enough that she’ll end up kicking him during the night. Alina sleeps on her right side. 

Their trip might be ending tomorrow, but something better was beginning tonight.

[spencesglasses]

sweet creature (spencer reid x f! reader) pt 2

a/n: ah yes, a case chapter. this was gonna be longer but i didn’t want it to just drag on and i just ended up cutting out some parts soooo enjoy this 3k word chapter of y/n using her big galaxy brain to solve a case with just a pinch of fluff w spence :)

part one | part three

It was only the beginning of the movie when the weight of the day hit her. She snuggled further into the couch, trying to gain some extra warmth. Spencer had his apartment so cold, she could nearly feel the chill creeping up her body. Her eyelids began to close shut slowly, and the sound of the television lulls her to sleep. She was far too tired to keep herself awake, so she hoped that Spencer didn’t mind if she rests, at least for a few minutes.

Spencer keeps his eyes glued to the television screen, having been making commentary throughout, he didn’t even notice Y/N fast asleep. “You know, it’s actually scientifically impossible for someone to-“ He turns his head to look at her, and she lets out a quiet snore. The TV’s sound was barely audible now, Spencer turning it down so it wouldn’t wake her. He stood up to his full height and the freshly cleaned floor squeaks as his feet carried him to the cupboard that held spare linens and duvets.

He laid a blanket over her figure gently, careful not to disturb her. Taking the extra blankets, he spread them out, making a makeshift bed on the floor below her. He flickered off the TV and all that could be heard was the pitter-patter of the rain against the windows. Spencer let the layers of blankets engulf him in warmth, letting his eyes fall heavy and drifts off to sleep.

The next morning, Y/N woke up to the vibrations of her phone ringing. It was Anna. Wait. I’m still on Spencer’s couch. Shit! I was asleep longer than I should have! She sits up, checking the time, “I’m late to work!”

She tossed the blanket off her and tried to push herself off the couch. But then she sees him. Spencer curled up with a blanket that was much too small for him. She stifled a snicker and covered him with the blanket she was once using.

Before Y/N could leave, she noticed a pen and notepad sitting atop his desk. Maybe I should leave a note, she thought. She grabbed the pen and the black ink slid smoothly across the page.

Sorry to leave so soon… and for falling asleep during the movie. Lets reschedule? Keep in touch, 187! xx

-Your favorite barista

She heard Spencer stir in his sleep, and just before he could wake up, she was gone.

-

“Surprise?” Garcia questioned. “What surprise? What’s going on-” and then she realizes. “Oh, Coffee shop girl! You’re the girl from the coffee shop!”

Y/N hid a giggle behind her hand as she stood. “You told them about me?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see JJ’s head shoot up. “Yeah, Spence,” she says, tilting her head at him. “You told us about her?”

“I told Garcia,” he grumbles.

Spencer can feel the five pairs of eyes on him. He didn’t think that not telling the team about her was such a big deal. Why was it such a problem he kept something to himself for once? They practically live together. Spencer just wanted to keep someone who makes him feel like a person. He wanted to keep her so close to him because he finally had the chance to think about something other than work and the cases, and the people he couldn’t save. He wanted to be someone; to feel normal. In the time that it’s silent, he understood why Y/N didn’t tell him, but he sure as hell wishes that she did.

Spencer’s eyes flicker back and forth between her and the team.  “We should focus on the case.”

-

The first case Y/N works on with a team is fairly close, which she appreciated. She wasn’t particularly fond of plane rides but that was something she had to get used to. Joy, who she found out is Rossi’s daughter, had been writing a piece about violence against women on campus, and noticed a series of mishap in the area. After finding what she believed was more of a case than a possible story, she brought attention to a series of disappearances to the team’s attention once a young woman by the name of Bahni Desai had gone missing.

“4 cases in 9 years.” Derek speaks into the cell, sitting in the driver’s seat. “How come this hasn’t been on our radar?”

“Because the disappearances were in different states with different M.O’s.” Rossi explained over the speaker.

Y/N claimed her spot on the middle seat in the back, reviewing a case file. “The first missing woman was Kathy Miller in 2006,”

Morgan questioned. “So what’s the plan once we land on campus?’

“Track Bahni’s movements. Campus police checked her room, she’s not there. They taped it off for you.” Hotch instructed.

“What about her cell phone?” asked Spencer.

Y/N shifted in her seat, passing the file to Spencer and whispered to him. “It’s kind of cold in here, don’t you think?”

He turned ever so slightly to look at her. “I have my jacket in my bag if you need it,”

She dug to find the much-needed jacket and threw it over her shoulders. It was his FBI issued jacket, tapered at the sleeves and a bit oversized. It smelt like him, she noted. Cinnamon and coffee. She offered him a gentle smile. “Thanks, Spence.”

Spencer returned the smile, handing her back the file.

“It just pinged in her room overnight,” Garcia informed. “No credit card activity. I’ve confirmed with all the ticket agencies she didn’t take a boat, bus, blimp, or plane last night. Oh! The Dean's office just sent us her file from Judy Temple College. It looks like- Oh dear…” She trails off.

“Looks like what, Garcia?” Y/N urged, tugging the jacket closer to her.

“She voluntarily withdrew!”

-

“She definitely didn’t plan on leaving town,” Spencer surveyed Bahni’s abandoned closet. “Her clothes, shoes, and luggage are all still here.”

“Well, it looks like she was trying on different outfits,” said Morgan.

Y/N shuffled past Spencer, standing next to Morgan, and observed the clothes laid out. “Miniskirts, heels. Seems like she was going out.” Y/N added.

“But why not take her phone?” Reid asked, picking up Bahni’s cell. “She’d need it to meet up with her friends.”

She spun on her heel and inspected her desk, noticing two chemistry textbooks. “Unless her friends were already here,” she suggests, her finger brushes against the lettering on the cover, then beckons Morgan to look at the books.

She turned the cover of the textbook, Morgan doing the same to the one to their left. Y/N pushes out a sharp exhale out of her pursed lips. Paddy Morris, she read.

Morgan is the first to speak. “Same textbooks, different names. “She wasn’t studying alone.”

Spencer moves closer to the pair and peers over Y/N’s shoulder. “That could be the last person who saw her.”

-

Y/N trailed behind Morgan and Reid with her hands tucked into the pockets of Spencer’s jacket, and her eyes wandered around the halls of the building. This is going to be her first interview. She wasn’t nervous, per se, but her mind couldn’t help but fill with possible scenarios. Don’t mess this up, Y/N. Only ask questions relevant to the case and remember, don’t say the wrong thing.

“Nice jacket,” Morgan commented, slowing down to reach Y/N’s pace.

“Nice face,” she joked, reaching up to tap his cheek.

Y/N quickened her pace, walking past Spencer, and she could practically feel his stare burning into the back of her head. She found the correct door, and it was Reid and Morgan’s turn to trail behind her. Finding Paddy’s correct door number, she taps her knuckles against the hard wood. “Paddy Morris, this is the FBI,”

“Very funny, Josh,” They heard through the door.

Y/N turned to the men behind her and they shrugged their shoulders in unison. She scrunched up her nose, knocking once more.

The trio held up their badges as the door flung open, exposing the girl. “You’re not Josh.”

“Great observation,” Y/N nodded.

Paddy opened the door wider for them, and they took their spot on the three chairs to the side of her bed. “We have a few questions about Bahni Desai,” Morgan told her. “Is there any information you have that might help us?”

She let out a sharp exhale. “I was with her last night. She was fine,”

“Any idea why she left her cell phone in her room?”

“We didn’t take purses, and we didn’t have pockets in our skirts.” Paddy draws out.

Y/N saw Spencer shift in his seat. “Ok, walk us through the night, you guys were studying before you went out?”

“Yeah, um,” her voice is shaky. “I knew about this party. She didn't want to go.”

It was Y/N’s turn to ask a question. “Did you two come back to the dorm?”

Not too bad, not too bad, she reassures herself.

“No. I made her stay.”

“Why?”

She gulped, looking over their shoulders and out the window. “There was this tennis guy that I’d been trading tweets with. He said he’d show up, but he was late, and then the later it got, the more I drank.”

“How much did you have?” asked Reid.

“Her, I don’t know. Me, a lot. Until Peter arrived…” she trails off. “She told me she was going right after that.”

“Did anyone walk out after her, maybe try to escort her?”

“Not that I saw,” she frowns, face streaked with tears and day old mascara wiped beneath her eyes. “God, it’s my fault, isn’t it?”

Morgan reassured her. “No, it’s not. But there’s still a way you can help us.”

She perked up, wiping the stray tears away. “Anything. Name it.”

Y/N straightens up and asks, “Where was the party?”

-

“This was the last spot she was seen. The next camera is 100 feet down,” Spencer pointed forward. “Which makes this the abduction zone,”

Y/N walks with him, investigating what the team has found, all thanks to Garcia, Bahni’s last location before she went missing. “Alexandria police searched the buildings, nothing was there.”

“Well, if she got in the car with him, they would have shown up on the camera down the street.”

Her eyebrows knit together, suddenly coming to a stop. “Right, so it would be too risky,” she looked to the camera, and observed the shops behind them. “Just shoving her in the trunk of a car. And out in the open like this? Someone would have been bound to see them,”

“Well, that leaves this.” Spencer gestures to the near alleyway. It’s empty. Secluded. Low chance of anyone seeing the attack.

Spencer and Y/N shared a look, walking further into the alley. His phone went off, signifying that he’s gotten a new message, and she watches him as he fetches his phone out of his coat pocket. She could see the wrinkle between his brows that he would when he was worried about something,

She stops in her tracks and gently places her hand on his bicep. “Is everything okay?”

“Actually, no. My mom’s not doing so well,” Spencer says, biting the inside of his cheek. “The doctors have had to change her medicine 3 times to try to stabilize the schizophrenia,”

Y/N knew about his mom and her conditions. He had mentioned it a few times to her when he would go into her shop during her break. She let out a soft exhale and rubbed languid circles in his arm as a comfort. “Spencer, why didn’t you tell me… or the team?”

“I- I didn’t want to bother you,” he averts his eyes

“You could never bother me,” Y/N’s voice is hushed. “You can never bother any of us, got it? How long has this been going on?”

Spencer’s frown deepens, looking down to the asphalt beneath their feet. “It’s gotten really bad the past few weeks.”

“As soon as we’re done here, you need to go help her. She needs you,”

Y/N watches as his eyes narrow, looking at her this time. “I know. Right now so does Bahni.” he said firmly.

She watches him as he moves to leave the alley, and a frown etched on her face. Y/N knew he would rather keep something to himself than bother anyone about his problems, but this was different. She just wanted to be there for him, to help him, to make sure he doesn't feel alone. He was her friend, after all. Spencer turned to her, looking at her expectantly, and she followed him.

“Alright, let's think this through,” Spencer said.

Y/N added. “Okay, so, if he took her this way, it is a busier street,” they both observed the cars passing. “The traffic was much lighter last night, but it would be a risk to abduct someone in plain sight.”

“So he was able to control a drunk woman and it didn’t look suspicious.”

“He probably just put his arm around her and walked off, and was too drunk to realize she was in danger.” she replied.

“You know, if this was just about the assault, he could have done that back in the alley. I think this gotta be some sort of long-term play,”

“Then he’s been watching Bahni,” she makes eye contact with Spencer. “Looking for the perfect opportunity.”

“Well, he certainly found it last night. She’s a straight-A student who never drinks and rarely goes out.”

Y/N nods, walking back to the alley to inspect it once more. She eyes the spot where the suspect was last documented, trying to think of anything that could possibly help them, and then it hits her. “Spence, tell Garcia to look for offenders with precursor crimes.”

“On it,”

-

The rest of the investigation went by smoothly and the team rescued Bahni successfully, arresting Tom Larson for abduction of Bahni Desai and Sam Burnett for the murder of Kathy Miller in the process. By the end of the night, Y/N stayed behind as the majority of the team left, having to finish paperwork for Hotch. She heard shuffling, and it brought her attention to Spencer sitting on the edge of his desk. Following his gaze, she noticed a framed photo of JJ’s newborn perched on her desk. Then she examined him closely, noticing visible bags under his eyes, and his hair slightly disheveled. She gathers the loose paper into a folder, then places them into the drawer of her desk.

“You were that little once,” Y/N says, catching Spencer’s attention.

“It seems impossible, doesn’t it,” he smiles fondly at the photo. “That we all start out so helpless.”

Y/N got up from her chair, joining Spencer at his desk. “Yeah, well, we all end the same way.”

A moment of looming silence passes between them and Spencer stiffens, suddenly becoming hyper aware of the proximity. It’s not that he didn’t like it. It made him more aware of the flutter and flit of the butterflies in his stomach. That he didn’t like.

Y/N is the first one to break the silence. “You’re gonna call your mom?”

Spencer is brought back to reality by the sound of her voice, and he’s back at ease. Y/N did a good job at doing that; easing him. He furrowed his brows, checking his watch. “It’s not too late there, is it?”

She gently grabs a hold of his wrist to check for herself. “Shouldn’t be,” she whispers.

Y/N let her arm fall to her side. “I wanted to tell you, by the way.”

“Hmm?”

“That I was joining the team,” she crosses her arms over her chest. “I wanted to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you?” he counters.

“I didn’t want to intrude. I thought it would’ve been weird if some girl from the coffee shop you go to just suddenly started working with you, but I guess that happened anyway,”

Spencer’s eyes flick down to her. “You’re not just some girl from the coffee shop,” he says slowly. “And if it makes you feel any better, I really enjoyed working with you today.”

Y/N’s lips curled upward, bumping his shoulder with hers. “Hmm, I guess we just make a good team,”

“Guess so,” Spencer says with a soft laugh that makes her heart swell. “You know, I actually didn’t mean to tell Garcia,”

“You didn’t?” She raised her brows.

He shook his head. “She saw your number written on my coffee cup.”

“I see,” she hummed.

There’s a moment of comfortable silence. Y/N scoots away from him slightly, barely realizing the closeness. Her stomach twists and tumbles within her, nerves spiking, trying to find words to add to the conversation. She finally looks at him and she feels heat creeping up her neck when she saw that he was already looking at her. And she finally says, “I guess I should be getting home,”

Spencer followed her movements, trailing behind her as she retreated to her desk. “Would you like a ride home?” she asks.

For a second, it is silent again. It’s clear to her he’s thinking way too into the question. “It’s no bother,” she adds, giving him a kind smile. “I promise.”

She held out her arm just like she did that morning and waited for him to link his arm with hers. He visibly relaxed, hooping his arm beneath hers. This is what he liked about Y/N, what drew him to her. She allowed him to break down his walls when he was with her, and he guesses that that was why he let himself be so comfortable with her because if he was being completely honest, he wouldn’t do this with anyone that wasn’t her. Yeah, he was close with JJ and Penelope, but the connection was just different. He just couldn’t put his finger on it, and for the first time, Spencer Reid didn’t know why.

-

taglist: @eevee0722 @ceeellewrites

[twistedlymad]

UwU Your writing is amazing !!!!! I loved the puppy and cat escapades \ ^o^ / . Would you be willing to do one in wich the mc is bullied by the extras, because you know, no magic and already a director, how would the boys react?? Will this be the end of the extras?!?? Ill be eternally gratefull. iTs okay if you cant throug. Hope you have a wonderfull day, and dont forget to drink plenty of water, and take breakes. Take care of yourself!!!!

Originally, I had planned this to be another chaos fic, but, I realize while writing this, that bullying is something that cannot be taken lightly. In the Twst Fandom, we also had our fair share of bullying from a few anons and that isn’t okay. 

So, in writing this fic, I made it more sentimental and just so you guys know, if you’re having a bad day or a bad time in general, feel free to talk to anyone, including me! Do not ever hold in your sadness. 

But anyway, I hope this fic lives up to your expectations anon! Thank you for requesting and have a lovely day!

What if you got bullied? (Ft. Everyone!!)

What was supposed to be a great day, turned out to be the worst day you could ever have at Night Raven College.

Your day started off normally, in fact, it started off well! You woke up with a good mood. You saw the furball that you loved so much beside you, sleeping peacefully. You smiled as you gently shook him awake.

“Grim, wake up, it’s already morning.”

“Fgnaaaaa, five… more minutes…” The sleeping creature said, swatting your hand away. You just shook your head at his antics.

“No can do, remember what Crowley would do if he caught us being late again.” You said and the creature’s eyes immediately shot opened and he jumped out of the bed, scurrying about to get ready for the day. You saw his slightly panicking self and giggled to yourself.

“(Y/N)! We shouldn’t be dancing and prancing! If we do, we’re going to be late!” Said the creature as he saw you heading over to your closet in a small waltz.

“Oh, Grim, I woke you up 10 minutes earlier than usual.” You said as you grabbed your uniform and headed to the bathroom. “You have 10 minutes to spare, take your time.” And you left the mumbling little furball in the room, face planting himself back into the bed after hearing your words.

The first half of your day had gone by rather quick and uneventful, not that you were complaining though. It’s nice to not have fights and chaos to settle every once in a while. You had a lot of laughs and smiles here and there with your group of first-year goofballs.

However, your peaceful day was about to turn upside down.

You were walking back to your classroom. Your friends were reserving your spot in Professor Trein’s class while you went to Crowley’s office to take care of some business involving Ramshackle Dorm. You and Grim made your way down the hall to the class.

Some students saw this and thought it was a great opportunity to make you trip and fall. So, one of them stuck out his leg while you were making you were walking. You didn’t have enough time to react and ended up falling for their antics. You immediately turned your body around so Grim, who was in your hands, would be shielded using your body. Your back hit the ground, HARD. A few gasps here and there were heard.

Grim rose his head from your chest to see you using your elbow to prompt yourself up.

“Fgnaaa! (Y/N)!” The furball immediately went to help you up by providing some support.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t see you there.” The student who tripped you said as his friends were laughing.

“School rules say that no magic or fights are allowed on school grounds.” His friends snickered.

“I’m fine… Just… Let me get up.” You said to Grim, who was still helping you.

“Pffft, look at her, so defenseless, she shouldn’t even be at this school!” The student said harshly.

“Hello?! Night Raven College is a place for prestigious mages. Not humans who can’t use magic and defend themselves.” Another student said to you.

“And to think she’s a prefect! Hahahahaha! You couldn’t even compare to the other dorm leaders!” His friend added and they all agreed.

“Looks like Crowley had made a huge mistake in bringing you here, why don’t you just crawl back to that sad excuse for a dorm of yours alongside your lousy furball!” And the group of students cackled at their snarky comments about you.

You just drooped your head down. Even though you didn’t want to admit it, but, they were right.

You had no magic, you were ridiculed at the entrance ceremony but, Crowley still gave you a place to stay and he even made you an official student here. While others struggled in getting here, you sort of knew why they hated you.

You tried your best to hold in your tears as you felt them pricking at the corner of your eyes while your friends defended you.

But, one comment had pushed past your boundaries.

“You’re not even considered to be human in my eyes! To me, you’re just trash. Go find a trash can and make yourself at home!”

Was… Was this what the other students really thought about you? Trash? Useless? No value? You closed your eyes, taking everything in, ignoring everything and everyone else around you. And proceeded to walk away without saying a single word.

Grim shouted for you but you payed no attention to him and just kept speed walking. Your walking slowly became running and you were then running as fast as you could, just letting your legs lead the way. After awhile of running at full speed, you had slowed down and stopped to take a breather. You looked around to see where you were in order for you to get back to school if needed.

However, you were back at Ramshackle Dorm. Your dorm. The tears you had been holding back flowed out as you took slow steps to the dorm you loved. You went in and closed the door behind you. Leaning your back against the door, you cried out your heart as you slowly slid down.

All the student’s words are stuck in your head, reminding you of what everyone else thinks of you. Your tears just kept flowing as you used your sleeves to wipe them away.

‘They’re right, I’m not meant to be here in the first place.’ You thought to yourself. ‘If everyone hates me so, then, I should just disappear.’ You said in your mind as you stood up and went to your room.

You packed some clothing and madol, ready to leave and hopefully start a new life outside of Night Raven College. You stuffed everything into a duffel bag and went to the main entrance of your dorm. You placed your hand on the doorknob, thinking of a route to leave the school undetected. But when you opened the door…

You were faced with everyone you ever knew.

And I mean everyone! Your group of best friends, the dorm-leaders and your seniors. They were all gathered in front of your dorm.

“Ahh! (Y/N)!! I’m so glad we found you!” Ace said as he, Deuce, Epel, Jack, Sebek and Grim came to hug you. You were surprised, too shocked to even register what had happened.

“We heard about the incident today, we already reported it to the headmaster.” Riddle said.

“But the first-years also reported that you were nowhere to be found. So, we came looking for you and your dorm was the only place we haven’t checked.” Azul continued.

“So, we all gathered here after our search!” Kalim concluded. The first-year boys pulled away from their hug and they noticed your bag.

“(Y/N)? What’s going on? Why are you leaving?” Epel asked you. Your eyes slowly travelled to the bag.

“Um…” You started but Deuce cut you off.

“Is it because of those damned students?” Deuce asked you. “Did they threaten you?”

Now, everyone’s eyes were on you. You averted their stares by lowering your head.

“No…” You said, dropping the duffel bag.

“They didn’t threaten me. But, what they said was true, was it not?” You lifted your head to let everyone see your tear-filled eyes. “I am just a human, I don’t possess any magic powers and yet here I am in this school for magicians. Not only that, but I am also the dorm leader for this dorm and I have been made a prefect! Isn’t that unfair to everyone else?” You said out loud, letting everyone hear you.

“I understand why they would have these kinds of thoughts. I understand why they hate me. That’s why I thought that if I have left, no one would have these kinds of thoughts ever again. After, I am the problem, aren’t I?” You concluded.

Truth be told, the boys were shocked. They… They have never seen this side of you. Heck, they never thought you would be capable of producing these types of thoughts. In their eyes, you were always so cheerful and kind, even when things got out of hand, you would remain calm and solve the problem to the best of your abilities. To think someone this pure and precious to them would have such depressing and degrading thoughts is beyond them.

However, this shocked Grim the most. The creature practically lived with you for so long and he didn’t even have a single clue of this side of you was scaring him.

“No, you’re wrong.” Grim lowly mumbled, but you couldn’t hear him.

“What?” You asked the furball.

“YOU’RE WRONG!” He practically screamed at you.

“Grim-chan…” Cater said softly.

“Even if you did leave, their thoughts won’t change! You’re not the problem! It’s them!” The furball yelled to you. Everyone was taken aback by Grim’s sudden outburst. But the first-years were quick to back him up.

“That’s right! It’s not your fault (Y/N)!” Ace said to you.

“Students at NRC are picked by the mirror of darkness. No one can easily come and go in this school.” Leona reminded everyone.

“Exactly, you arrived here for a reason.” Rook said.

“You assisted us with our overblots, not every child of man could do that.” Malleus said, representing every dorm leader.

“You had us working together in sync during the Inter-High Magift Tournament.” Ruggie added.

“You brought us together as friends.” Sebek stated.

“Most importantly, you let me have a place here at NRC. Because of you, we were only able to attend the school as a student.” Grim said. “No one has ever done something like that for me before.” The creature said as he slowly crawled up to you.

Everyone’s words had stunned you. You were so busy thinking about the negative comments about you, you forgot about all your relationships with your friends and seniors.

Like, how you always had tea in Heartslabyul. Riddle would always invite you to have tea with him and the others, you would enjoy the peacefulness of the dorm under the supervision of their dorm leader. Trey would always ask for your help in the kitchen and you would have a fun time with him while making sweets and desserts for everyone. Cater would whisk you away to either a selfie-session in the dorm’s gardens or a photoshoot in any new place that the he had found to be photogenic. Ace and Deuce would invite you to play croquet with them from time to time, of course, you were very careful with the flamingos and hedgehogs as you didn’t want to hurt any of them, but, you couldn’t resist in using the flamingo to bonk on either Ace’s or Deuce’s head every once in awhile. It’s okay though, the flamingo understood completely.

Like, how you always trained yourself in Savanaclaw. Leona would sometimes go easy on you if you were invited to join one of their many Magift activities, although, you weren’t sure if he was pitying you or he was just being lazy in general. You would help Ruggie prepare food for everyone as you knew he could use an extra hand or two, it also meant you could pick up a new recipe here and there and you got to taste test all the food. Jogging sessions with Jack were also a normal thing, hey, if you’re going to be joining in Magift tournaments without magic powers, the least you could do is train yourself physically.

Like, how you always felt welcomed at Octavinelle. Azul would welcome you into the VIP lounge when Mostro Lounge was extremely busy and you couldn’t find a place to sit at. You would also help out around Mostro Lounge when you saw that the place was packed to the brim. Usually, Jade would entrust you with drinks while he and Floyd went to prepare food for everyone else. When Mostro Lounge closed its doors for the day, you would enjoy some tea with the three underwater mermen or you and Grim would play around with Floyd, pranking other students and dorm leaders. Heck, you and Floyd even pulled off a few enormous pranks against the staff members.

Like, how you would be invited to feasts and parties at Scarabia. Kalim would always have a big smile on his face whenever he invited you to go dine with him at Scarabia. Jamil always appreciated your help in the dorm, let it be helping him prepare food for the party that Kalim had just decided to have five minutes ago or just keeping an eye on the dorm leader while he went to settle some other business involving the dorm.

Like, how you would have small makeovers at Pomefiore. Every time you walked past the beauty-queen/king, you were immediately stopped by him, because either your bow or tie was crooked or your hair was a mess, well no matter the case, Vil would fix it for you. When you visited Pomefiore from time to time, Vil would take the chance to give you high quality beauty products to try and he would always go on a rant on how you should always take care of your image. Sometimes, Rook would sweep you away just to go on a mini hunt with him. Although, let’s be real here, you two always ended up spying on Leona at the Botanical Gardens while he skipped his classes. Epel would whisk you away to his room and teach you to on how to carve apples. You managed to carve a few of the staff members and even your friends onto the apples, of course, you would carve on a few extra features onto your masterpieces. Like, say, a moustache for Ace or funky-looking ears for Crowley. You also helped to keep Epel in check whenever Vil and Rook were teaching the first-years on table manners and proper etiquette.

Like, how you would enjoy mini-gaming sessions at Ignihyde. Usually, you would initiate the session with Idia. You two ended up playing both Co-Op and PvP games. While playing games that require you to cooperate, the two of you would discuss your plans and pick out the best course of action. The same cannot be said for Free-For-All games though. A few minor insults here and there are thrown between the two of you. But at the end, the victor will always do a little happy dance before continuing onto the next game. You loved Ortho like your own brother! Always treating him to various desserts and helping him drag his brother out from his room. Ortho looks up to you like a sister as well. There may have been a few times he’s actually called you big sis.

Like, how you would go on quaint little walks at Diasomnia. If you needed a breather, you would usually find yourself at Diasomnia. Due to a large forest surrounding the building and the silent atmosphere the dorm provides, it is the exact place where you would go to take a walk to clear your mind. Malleus would sometimes accompany you on these quaint little walks. You and Tsunotaro would chat about your everyday lives and problems the first-years would create. Lilia would make some tea for you after your walks and you would enjoy the tea and bits of biscuits and crumpets alongside the tea. You would also break up arguments between Silver and Sebek. The two would get into fights about the tiniest of things, from blaming each other for losing track of Malleus to blaming each other for not preparing for a test. Sometimes, Silver would accompany you on your walk instead of Malleus and you two would also have little chats here and there. Other than that, Sebek’s view of you actually improved after befriending him. He used to think you were a powerless human as well but after spending time with him and your friends, he realizes that you aren’t just any human being.

But for Grim, you had the greatest impact in his life. You accepted him, you took care of him, you loved him. And he loved you back, just as much. To him, you were his family since he had never had one.

In conclusion, you matter.

You. Are. Of. Value.

You are precious to them, you bring peace to them, you brought them together as a whole.

Once that thought had nested in your brain, you realized that you were foolish in having these thoughts in the first place.

“I’m sorry…” You said, crying. Grim went and hugged you.

“It’s not your fault… Just know that we’re here for you.” Said the furball as everyone also came and comforted you. You had spent the day with them as a whole, you watched a few movies, horror movies in that case. It was fun hearing the dorm leaders and their members scream shout yell made a loud sound whenever a jumpscare appeared.

You guys also played games together, but, I am not allowed to share any details because I actually know nothing. No, I’m totally not being threatened here Reader-san, don’t worry about me.

Send help pls.

Also, after the bullying incident, the boys were a bit more protective around you when in class/school. Usually, your group of first-years would accompany you wherever you go, let it be from your dorm to the cafeteria or from the class to another dorm, at least one of them will be at your side. And when they couldn’t be there, either a dorm leader or an upperclassman would be near you. Any student who seem like they have bad intentions to either you or Grim, would face unspeakable consequences.

And I mean unspeakable. So, I cannot inform you of these consequences as I am under an oath to not reveal anything. Um. Yeah. Good luck persuading the boys to tell you : )

[writeblrfantasy]

i am thrilled to present to you another short from acogs: khyris mi'hail, or khyris the beloved in my conlang!

i'm especially happy with this one, but i say that about all of them, don't I? this one is inspired by the story behind the hanging gardens of babylon, how the king had them built for his homesick wife.

like most of my shorts, you don't need to know acogs to understand this <3 enjoy!! word count about 5k

~

“Everybody wake up, c’mon, everybody up!” The sound of pans banging together accompanies Major Malika’s shouts.

Khyris has been awake for an hour already, but he still groans at the thought of leaving his warm cot. The other corporals in the tent with him grumble and swear at the major with more colorful language than Khyris would dare risk.

Khyris sticks his head out of his blankets, bracing against the freezing winter air and squinting into the bright morning light of the tent. A few bastards who wake with the sun are sitting on the floor drinking coffee, the smell of which finally draws Khyris out of his warm cave.

“We were afraid you were dead,” says Eric, mumbling like he’s half dead himself. “You don’t move at all.”

“Nice to know you’re watching me sleep,” Khyris retorts, pulling on his three extra layers to fight back the biting chill. “Give me some of that.” Coffee in his system makes him feel a little more human, enough to make him realize there’s a group huddled around the morning campfire just outside.

Khyris joins them, coffee in hand, and finds them all staring at a map. “What’s going on?”

“Big news today,” Aeron says, grinning, full of energy no matter the time. “The queen’s visiting.”

Khyris almost spills his coffee. “What? Why? That man couldn’t lift a sword to save his life, what does he want with us?”

“Stow your hatred for a moment, my dear Khyris. He’s here to pick a spouse.”

Khyris stares, then laughs. “For a moment I thought you were serious.”

The other’s smiles slowly fade. Delia stares into her coffee like it holds the answers of the world—or more accurately, an escape from Khyris.

“You are serious. Sweet Cai.” Khyris buries his head in his hands. “Explain.”

“He’s here exactly because he can’t lift a sword to save his life. He wants someone who can. Solid strategy, I think.”

Khyris shakes his head. “He has hundreds of willing options back at court, the experienced soldiers paid too well to be out on the field. Why doesn’t he pick from them and leave us alone?”

“He doesn’t want a lazy court soldier. He wants a fieldman. Someone he knows he can trust with his life.”

“So he wants a bodyguard for a spouse, is what you’re saying. I thought he already had a team of those.” Khyris looks around. “Do you think Major Malika would notice if I disappeared for a week or two? Tell her I was indisposed. I was longing for home. Let me be a deserter, anything but having to see that bastard’s face.”

“Why are you so against him?” Aeron asks.

“Because he doesn’t give a damn about any of us. He just throws money at us, gives us more orders to build more cities, and every year checks in to see how we’re doing. He’d rather entertain the fools and artists of his court than pay mind to us.”

“So you don’t want to see him, but you’re mad he hasn’t come yet? Make up your mind, man!”

Khyris sighs. “I just don’t think you all should be kissing his ass, is all. He should be appreciating what we do for him. We just finished building him al-Hasa, he should be grateful.”

“We’re not kissing—” Aeron breaks off into a devious grin Khyris has seen before, and it’s never ended anywhere good. “You like him, and you’re mad he doesn’t like you back?”

Whistles and laughter go around the fire. “What?” Khyris sputters. “This is the queen we’re talking about, not some barmaid. You lot are ridiculous.”

Apparently happy with being labeled ridiculous, what Khyris thought were friends begin singing, “Khyris the Angrily Smitten” in an off key parody of a song he can’t remember.

“You sound like you’re drunk and it’s only sunrise,” he says in disgust, burying himself in coffee, his only friend this morning.

Later that day, he’s in the middle of a group training session and managed to forget about the queen’s newest joke. The stress of the major’s shouts during exercises in the middle of winter doesn’t leave much room for Khyris to think about anything else, though Aeron finds a way around it as always. Aeron’s only here to support his family’s farm—cooperation doesn’t matter much to him as long as he still gets paid.

In the middle of another round of hot yet cold push-ups, Major Malika calls for a sudden stop. “His Majesty is here,” she snaps. “I want to see some salutes, hear some respect. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Major,” they chorus, lining up to watch His Majesty Amoun’s brown and gold carriage pull up to the campsite. Khyris’ left hand goes to the side of his head like all the others, trying to keep his eyes in line as the carriage stops in a cloud of dust. The door opens with a click, and out steps a shadow cloaked in black, unusual for Kadar. Khyris’ eyes drift despite himself.

Khyris forgot how young the queen is, and how attractive, despite his own dissenting opinions. A dark, neat sheaf of hair and mustache frame a smiling face. His long winter cloak shows hints of Kadar yellow in ribbons and pins, but otherwise everything from the fur to his shoes is black.

“Welcome, Your Majesty,” Malika says with a deep bow.

“Thank you, Major. I’m delighted to be here.” Queen Amoun approaches the line of soldiers with his coat sweeping out behind him, just short enough not to get dirty on the sand. The soldiers drop their salutes as Amoun slowly walks in front of them like he’s inspecting them. Khyris fights not to close his eyes and disappear into a safer, less ridiculous world. He has many choice words for the queen, but keeps them all wisely to himself.

Amount is just passing Aeron and Delia, about to pass a stiff Khyris, when he stops and looks him up and down. “What’s your name?” Amoun asks.

Khyris swallows, cursing Cai in every way. He can feel Aeron’s traitorous, poorly smothered grin on his profile. “Khyris, Your Majesty.”

“Khyris,” Amoun repeats, slowly, like the sly tongue of a snake. He grins. “What a beautiful name.”

What to say to that?

Amoun solves the problem for him. “I look forward to seeing your face during my trials, Khyris.”

Khyris’ mind races, thinking of the Cairic Trials of Taru. They are Kadars, dammit, not Cairic. But, if the queen wanted to find a spouse who could defend him, there is not a much better way than that. “Trials, Your Majesty?”

Amoun laughs, a gentle, warm sound. “Wipe that fear off your face. I am not referring to the Trials of Taru, as thrilling and testing as they are. The trials I have created are much simpler, and will be much more to your taste, if that quiver on your back means anything.” He takes a step back so more soldiers can hear him.

“I wish we had a forest to do this, but alas, we are not in the north or in Tel Cairis. As you can see, there are three targets there.” Amoun gestures grandly to the three red targets being set up several hundred paces away, in the middle of the desert. “Whoever can perfectly hit the three targets”—he pauses for effect— “will get a private dinner with me.”

Khyris struggles not to laugh.

“The trials begin immediately, for all of you,” Amoun says. “You are soldiers, I’m sure you’re used to quick thinking and quicker requests. Come on, now.”

Khyris shuffles into a single file line with the others, Aeron at his back. “Not a word,” he hisses.

“Not a word,” Aeron echoes, but Khyris can hear his grin. Worst of all, he begins humming that awful song, Khyris the Angrily Smitten. He actively wishes for death even as he’s pulling his bow off his back and nocking an arrow into it.

Fail Amoun’s stupid target challenge. The easiest task in the world. He’ll be officially taken out of consideration, free to go back to the idiots at the campfire in the morning.

His focus drifts in and out while waiting for the other soldiers to shoot, even if they’ve never touched a bow before. Evidently Amoun believes miracles are possible. He seems like the type.

Amoun stands to the side of the line drawn in the sand where the archers must stay and shoot, his presence undoubtedly helping no one. Ever since he was a child, Khyris couldn’t stand people watching him practice or hunt. He savored the quiet of the northern forests where he grew up, savored the peace and focus in his heart while he hunted his family’s dinner. To have anyone else watching him, waiting, judging if he shot wrong, would ruin that sacred peace.

He sighs and shifts his weight impatiently.

“Relax, would you? You’re the best archer here, I have more reason for nerves than you do,” Delia says from somewhere behind him.

“That’s exactly the problem,” Khyris says. “I’m afraid I’ll do well.”

Someone scoffs ahead of him. He doesn’t keep his dislike of the queen private, but the way Amoun looks back toward the sound makes Khyris flush. Please don’t notice me, don’t notice me, look away.

“Then miss and make a fool of yourself,” Delia says. “You’ll be known as the army’s best worst archer, but not the queen’s spouse, a title I wouldn’t mind having. It’ll be a steady source of income for my family, at least.”

Khyris smiles. He and Delia became friends because of their similar situation. Aeron barged his way into their lives with no possibility of leaving. “I’ll be in the front row at your wedding.”

“I’d prefer your blessing on my bow.”

Khyris watches sorry swordsman after swordsman point their bows at the targets only for their arrows to land somewhere far off in another direction. Major Malika barks at them that they’ve failed, which is not an unusual thing for her to say, but they’ve never had to perform in front of the queen before.

People who have never touched a bow in their life still stutter and apologize for wildly missing. That’s the effect the queen’s presence has—not that it affects Khyris, of course. He glances sympathetically at the losers and thinks, I’ll be joining you in a minute.

At last, it’s his turn. Major Malika orders him forward with her usual grit, but Amoun is smiling with his big brown eyes and it’s every bit as unnerving as Khyris predicted.

“Let’s see what you got,” he says quietly, where only Khyris can hear. Khyris grits his teeth, mentally ordering him to shut up and let him focus.

Why is he trying?

Because it’d kill him to miss, he decides. He hasn’t missed since he was eleven, and he won’t start now. He has too much pride in his finest skill to be a laughingstock. Major Malika would know he wasn’t trying and would make him try again. He’s too good an archer for his own good.

He closes his eyes, trying to ignore Amoun’s presence, and lets the bow do the work.

The first arrow hits. He doesn’t stop to check. His focus is on the second target, and a minute shift of his position readies him for the next shot. Khyris disregards all other sound but the grip of his fingers adjusting on the bow, the whoosh as the arrow flies free. He can’t quite block out the gasp Amoun makes, but shaking it off is easy.

The wind begins picking up just slightly, hardly noticeable to anyone else, but Khyris knows the song of the bow like his own skin, and it’s not what he needs.

You’ve done well, says the voice in his head. No one will believe you purposefully failed if you miss. You will be free, and your dignity will be intact.

The other archers shot in quick succession, too eager or humiliated to wait. Khyris knows he’s already taken longer than anyone else, but he waits another few seconds before nocking another arrow and letting it fly.

Khyris opens his eyes to find his arrows in the center of all three red targets. He sighs in relief.

Relief for what?

All is deadly quiet, and then some idiot begins cheering. Khyris shuts his eyes again.

Aeron. Of course it’s Aeron.

Soon, everyone is cheering or clapping, Amoun loudest of all. Khyris flushes hot, looking around for him, who’s grinning like someone just handed him all the wealth of Kadar.

Khyris goes over to him and wraps him a hug, drawing laughter and ‘aw’s from the onlookers. It’s just an excuse to whisper, “I hate you to the skin of your bones,” in Aeron’s ear, who just laughs louder.

#

Khyris stands in front of a little pond where some fool spilled water outside Amoun’s tent, turning left and right to inspect his outfit. It’s the only fine thing he has, provided by the army, meant for rare banquets at the palace.

It’s a velvet jacket in Kadar yellow decorated with the few gold medals he has to his name, one for exceptional scouting, another for bringing down the largest hog anyone had ever seen, large enough to feed the whole camp for an evening.

The yellow tent flap opens and Khyris quickly snaps to a stiff position, relaxing when Amoun gestures for him to. “Khyris,” he says with a warm smile. “Thank you for joining me.”

You didn’t leave me much of a choice, Khyris thinks, though even he’s not bold enough to say that to the queen’s face. He’s wearing a thin golden circlet with soft brown gems embedded, the crown of Kadar. Khyris has never been close enough to see it; it sparkles in the evening sunlight.

He’s never been close enough to see the queen’s face like this—the kindness deep within earthy eyes, his short, well-trimmed beard and mustache, the single lock of black hair hanging down on his forehead. His black cloak doesn’t have a smattering of dust, and the long fur hairs poking out of the collar make Khyris ache for the crude fur coat he made himself the last time he was home—these velvet jackets don’t do much in the way of warmth.

Amoun even smells like the forests of the north, Khyris’ home, with a hint of soft incense.

“Please, come in.” Amoun steps aside to let Khyris slip past him. He takes a quick look around. Amoun’s tent is nicer than any camp tent he’s ever been in, a colorful carpet covering the sand, a table of golden wood with two chairs set up in the middle, a white curtain hiding what’s presumably a bed in the corner. Even the lanterns, burning with blessed warmth, are polished and new compared to the grimy ones in the tent Khyris shares with five others.

“Sit,” Amoun says softly, latching the tent flap closed to keep out the abhorrent wind. Khyris sits, happy to be out of the cold with a plate of hot food in front of him, if nothing else. The faster he can fail this and get it over with, the better.

Amoun sits opposite him and unclasps his cloak, revealing a finely woven black waistcoat over a long sleeved yellow shirt.

“Ah, so His Majesty is capable of wearing color,” Khyris says before he can think about it. He refuses to go back on it, even as Amoun looks at him in surprise. Khyris won’t be the timid little soldier afraid to even look at his queen. He respects himself more than that.

“I admit my dress is rather unconventional for Kadar,” Amoun says, slipping into a relieving smile. He picks up a white teapot and pours them both steaming cups. From the smell, it’s coffee—in the evening? Another oddity. “It’s one of many reasons for people to distrust me—or worse, dislike me.” He smiles again over the rim of his cup.

Khyris is holding his for warmth until he remembers that he’s not in the tent waking up to Aeron jabbering in his ear, he has manners. He quickly puts it back on the table. All the manners he learned from his father and his one visit to court suddenly leave him. Hopefully his country boy ignorance doesn’t show too much.

No, he wants it to show, doesn’t he? He wants Amoun to be disgusted with his choice and let him go.

Khyris grips the handle of the coffee cup again but after a few seconds of indecision, leaves it on the table.

“I do hope you’ll enjoy this meal,” Amoun says, oblivious to Khyris’ inner turmoil and the fact that this is the best meal Khyris will ever have in the field in the middle of winter. “Have you ever been to a palace banquet? Forgive me for not remembering your face—you all look the same in those jackets.” He shovels a forkful of something into his mouth—wait, what are they eating?

Khyris gathers himself and picks up his knife, reminding himself to breathe. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he says after what’s probably too long of a pause. “I have been to a palace banquet once, shortly after I joined your army.” He focuses on cutting what he now discerns to be lamb, a delicacy they don’t get out here at the building sites, laying on a bed but of golden rice. It’s hot and warms him to the bone, but it’s not as spicy as the kind his father used to make.

Amoun laughs, speaking with a full mouth. “Let’s not pretend it’s my army. Cai knows I don’t pay enough attention to it. Oh, forgive me”—he smiles sheepishly— “when I’m alone with someone, especially here instead of the palace, I forget my manners. My upbringing is coming back to haunt me. Perhaps that’s another reason people detest me.”

Khyris pauses. Suddenly the food is vastly less interesting than Amoun. “You grew up humble, Majesty?”

“Please, call me Amoun. I am here to court you.”

The reminder makes Khyris bring his eyes back to his plate. Make him throw you out.

“Yes,” Amoun continues, “I came from the forests of the north. My parents were well off, and I have no siblings, but it was not a glamorous childhood by any means. Not compared to what I’m used to now.”

Khyris chews slowly, hyperaware of everything. “I also came from the forests of the north, M—Amoun.”

“Really?” Amoun’s silver clatters against his plate. “I knew I chose well. Where exactly were you raised?”

Khyris tells him about the cabin his mother built, four young siblings and a father too crippled to hunt, a mother too overworked to cook, the privilege Khyris considered hunting.

He loses track of time as Amoun talks about those same forests, hiding from great imaginary beasts that were only the howls of the wind in the trees as a child, the warmth of the curry Amoun’s mother made—the same one Khyris’ mother made for his birthday.

Khyris has never met someone who grew up in the north forests before, and he soon finds he can’t keep the smile off his face.

Before Khyris knows it, they’ve both finished their meals and wine has replaced the coffee. No attendants come in to bring them dessert, Amoun only gets up and accepts plates from them through the tent flap.

Khyris doesn’t have to leave his chair the whole time—he feels like the queen here, dipping a spoon into the bowl of warmth honey cake soaked through with cream. Amoun asks him about his friends, his family, laughs at every story of his siblings, goes somber when Khyris tells him why he joined the army.

Amoun makes him feel like everything he has to say is worth something to him, that his nods aren’t the polite, diplomatic ones he’s no doubt used to putting on. Khyris is only too happy to return the favor and admire the reflection of the lamplight in Amoun’s eyes.

And then it’s ending. The wine has faded from Khyris’ system, and the warmth of Amoun’s hand as he helps Khyris to his feet is bittersweet. He doesn’t know when he stopped trying to make Amoun dislike him, if he was ever trying at all, but now he’s foolishly praying that Amoun will ask him back.

“Thank you for such a wonderful evening, Khyris,” Amoun says, smiling like the witches of legend are said to do—so strong, so beautiful, they make it impossible to look away. Khyris’ limbs seem to draw closer of their own accord before he realizes and quickly puts distance between them.

“Thank you,” Khyris says, a shadow clouding over his heart as he turns toward the tent flap that Amoun holds open.

“Would you like to go out with me again?” Amoun asks as Khyris is about to leave. He stares in hopeful disbelief. “It’s perfectly alright if you don’t. I would never force you into anything you would not want—I have heard the stories your companions tell. Khyris the Angrily Smitten.” Amoun’s lips curve into a smile with an unescapable hint of pain. “I think the angry part is more prevalent. You are one of the ones who would detest me at court.”

Khyris is again mad at Aeron, for an entirely different reason. Has this whole magical evening gone to shit?

“Majesty—Amoun”—he takes a deep breath— “I—I was wrong about you. I would like to go out with you again. It is possible for minds to change.” He laces his own fingers behind his back, arms held taught in the stiff jacket.

Amoun’s answering grin is brighter than the sun.

#

Amoun has to go back to Ramia, of course, and Khyris back to the city building corporal’s lifestyle, but they spend every chance they could get together, alone, in a welcome relief from life for both of them. Aeron and Delia have been nothing but evil about it, but it’s no less than Khyris would expect.

His and Amoun’s second outing comes mere weeks after their first, when Khyris thought he might go mad from anticipation. Would their next meeting be just as perfect as their first? He frets, despite Aeron’s relentless teasing about the fact that so recently, he’d despise himself for fretting about this.

He made the mistake of addressing the queen as Amoun in Delia and Aeron’s presence. At the risk of his own sanity, he’s been careful to censor himself since, though Aeron probably sees right through it.

Their second date is every bit as good as the first and more. Amoun invites Khyris to the camp where he’s staying, visiting another battalion of soldiers in the north. Khyris was happy to go just to escape Aeron’s teasing, but the smile Amoun gives him upon arrival did things to him he didn’t know were possible. After a few days together and the blistering kiss Amoun gives him when they part, Khyris knows his mind is made up.

It should not come as a surprise when Amoun proposes only a few months later. The whole purpose of Amoun’s visit, after all, was to find a spouse to court.

He’s not just falling for the queen of Kadar for all the perks of being his lover. when Amoun first announced this challenge, Khyris thought the steady income for his family would be the only reason he’d ever agree if miraculously chosen.

As soppy and awful as it sounds, as much as he’s becoming the very lovestruck fool he loved to hate, he enjoys Amoun for him, not for his money or his power or his safety. His company. His smile. His mix of ease and nerves, how he both seems to know exactly what he’s doing and has no clue at all.

Now, he’s in Ramia again for the first time in four years in the part of it he never thought he’d get to visit in his lifetime: the queen’s private palace apartments. Amoun is looking at him the warmth of the sun in those eyes and asking if Khyris will be his forever. What can Khyris say but yes?

Khyris might hang around court more often than he ever thought he would, but he still can’t bear to leave the army. He sees past the humor in Aeron’s voice when he asks, “Don’t forget about your fellow corporals when you’re the queen’s husband, alright?” Khyris spends half of the days leading up to wedding with the soldiers, working hard and crashing harder just like he did before, and the other half in some kind of paradise of luxury with Amoun.

He invites Aeron and Delia to the palace when he visits—he’s learned, as the queen’s betrothed, there’s little he can’t get away with, including sudden leave for any soldier he likes. Seeing the raw awe on Aeron’s face makes his own adjustment a little easier to bear.

He and Amoun decline to get tattoos of betrothal—that’s a Cairic tradition at heart, and the queen of Kadar couldn’t be seen with that, especially since they’re trying to move away from Tel Cairis’ traditions.

Being suddenly waited on and served food even better than the stuff in Amoun’s tent on their first date is nice, but jarring. He’s so used to the humble life, getting everything himself, being independent. The army only enforced that, even when he gained friends.

Now the clothes he wears puts his yellow dinner jacket to shame, and every bit of building has been made by hundreds of men compared to a few. He can only wonder how Amoun adjusted.

Amoun is a sweetheart, empathetic and sensitive. Unfortunately, this means Khyris can’t keep a secret around him, and he quickly notices Khyris’ discomfort.

“Mi’hail, please,” he implores one night, because of course he’d be the type to use old fashioned terms of endearment like that. “Tell me what I can do to make this place feel as much as your home as it is mine. All I desire is to make you happy.”

Khyris sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. His cheek is pillows on the silk nightshirt covering his arm, so light and soft and decadent you can hardly call it a shirt. His feet are made warm by the sheets of Amoun’s bed, the warm orange glow of candlelight turning Amoun’s skin the most beautiful gold.

This is not the first time Amoun has asked, but Khyris always tells him not to bother, he’s busy enough, he’s done enough already. “If we are to be married,” Amoun tries, “it cannot be on unequal footing. I will not have you be a sacrifice to be with me. You grew up with so little—let me repay you now.”

“Oh, and you grew up in luxury?” Khyris counters.

“Stop trying to switch the subject.” Amoun sits up against the cushioned headboard. “Tell me, or I will not leave it alone.”

Khyris knows how capable he is of that. He manages a small smile.

“A garden,” he settles on at last, thinking of the northern forests, how he loved the trees but always wished for a more glamorous, well-tended grove. “Remind me of the north, where we are from. Give me a version of our forests that’s neater, that shows the nicest parts without all the ugly ones.” He sighs, already picturing it, almost able to smell the richness of the tree sap if he concentrates. “With a fountain,” he adds. “Is that too much?”

Amoun’s eyes are shining. “Not at all. I will do it, mi’hail.”

Amoun builds him a garden. He commissions a fountain. He brings the forests of the north to Ramia.

Khyris underestimates him once again.

It takes so long and takes up so much space, Khyris is eventually banned entirely from the west side of the palace in case he catches a glimpse of Amoun’s hard work. All he knows is that Amoun is always beaming and giddy with excitement and anticipation of Khyris’ reaction.

The damn thing takes so long to build, Khyris doesn’t get to see it till three weeks after their wedding, when they get back from their trip alone to the forests of the north.

When everything is finally done to Amoun’s liking, Amoun can’t let go of his hand as he leads him out to see it. He even makes Khyris close his eyes, an incredible trust exercise. When Khyris is allowed to open them, his jaw falls open.

He’d been prepared by the sound of flowing water, but nothing could truly brace him for this. From the top of the steps leading inside where they stand, Khyris can see the whole thing: the fountain of himself holding his bow, quiver at his back, free hand reaching up to fix his hair. “Wh—how did you get a statue of me commissioned without needing me there?”

Amount just grins.

None of the trees are old enough to provide shade yet, but stone beds with soil inside house several young, green trees that will grow up to be the great sprawling ones of the north. The floor is stone, not dirt, and it’s much nicer and cleaner to look at than the leafy forest floor. The smell of the trees is absent, but it’s more than made up for with the greenery tucked into every spot, the rare pops of pink flowers from the east. Everything is well tended and trimmed, from the hedges to the plants to the shape of the trees.

Each layer up to the palace entrance is covered in some of potted plant, and an artificial river runs around every bit of it to feed them, the channel carved into the stone.

Khyris can’t fathom how he imported everything and how it’s stayed so fresh—the wont of a queen, he supposes.

“The gardens of Khyris,” Amoun says quietly at his back, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to pull him closer.

After another minute of silence, he laughs nervously. “Speechless, mi’hail?”

“Uh, yes.” Khyris turns his head to kiss him. “I don’t know how to thank you. it’s absolutely gorgeous. I—seriously, all of this is for me?”

“I would be happy to ban the public if you asked,” Amoun confirms. “Does it take you back to the north forests as it does for me?”

“You know it does. It’s perfect in every way.”

Amoun walks him down the steps to the garden itself, showing him every carefully chosen detail. Khyris is happy to stand with him near the fountain, enough for the sound of the rushing water to lull him into a sense of calm. He wonders how he could’ve ever hated Amoun.

“Khyris the Angrily Smitten, they called you all those months ago,” Amoun murmurs. Khyris’ ears burn hot.

“I find it endearing,” Amoun confesses, “but I know you find it rather—embarrassing. I’d like to call you something else.” His fingers curl around Khyris’ neck, soft and warm. “Khyris mi’hail? Khyris the Beloved?”

Khyris fights the smile threatening to break out and fails. “Better than Khyris the Great, or something awful like that.”

Amoun laughs. “I am great enough for both of us,” he says, and pulls Khyris to the sound of the water mingling with the wind. An earthly heaven without Cai.

shorts taglist (lmk to be added/removed) @magic-is-something-we-create @lunarmoment @missingpeace

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[statticscribbles]

Heat

Summary: a/b/o Jughead/reader Request: A/B/O werewolf fic where Jughead helps the reader get through her heat. Maybe they’ve been dating for a while, but this is her first heat with them being a couple. Maybe it involves some lovemaking and fluffy stuff? Maybe she tries to push him away so he won’t see her so weak, but he reassures her that he thinks she’s strong and just doesn’t want her to go through it alone?

“Hey uh, Jughead. I’m gonna be busy next week so can we reschedule the usual Pop’s date?” “It’s our anniversary date in addition to the regular Pop’s one; of course. Don’t look so upset; what’s going on?” “Oh uh, noting just uh, ya know…” “I know what?” He smiles fondly nudging your shoulder. “Y/N?” “Sorry it’s just omega stuff. Nothing bad; just awkward.” “You know I don’t mind talking about that. I’ll buy you a shake and we can talk about it?” You nod following him and nervously shifting and sitting in the booth at Pop’s jumping when he reappears.

“You okay baby?” He hums wrapping his arms around you as he almost pulls you onto his lap as he sits next to you in the booth. “Yeah just, uh.” You scoot nervously back pressing yourself against the window. “I have my heat coming up and I know it’s like normal for you to have nothing to do with it and that’s fine I mean I’m not exactly strong in general but it gets worse during that and I just know you don’t wanna deal with me like that so I thought I would warn you.” You cringe slightly relieved that you’d managed to get through it without getting two upset. “Wait you think just cause I’m an Alpha I wouldn’t want to be around you?” “I mean yeah, besides we haven’t been dating for that long and I didn’t really want to just assume you’d want to you know, have sex with me.” You mumble face flushing as you keep your eyes on the ground

“Why wouldn’t I want to have sex with you?” Jughead questions and you looks confused at he before looking back down to yourself. “I’m me? Like I’m not a particularly good looking omega, let alone good at the usual omega things, on top of the fact I joined the pack when you did, but you were already part of it cause your family. You could do a lot better than me; Toni, or Betty would be better matches for you.” “They’re both gay Y/N.” “Besides you’re part of the pack and my dad already loves you, regardless of what you think of yourself. Please let me spend next week with you; if you want?” “I’d love that Jughead.” You relax curling back into his side trying to fight of a smile and how pleased he looks.

You had spent two hours before going back to bed debating if it was worth trying to go to school, deciding that with how warm and then cold you’d felt over the span of two minutes that it was going to be impossible to concentrate on anything other than your feelings and Jughead. You  wrinkle your nose at the thought of Jughead, just the thought of him making you feel too warm and flushed despite the fact you’re laying on the kitchen floor trying to avoid crawling into the freezer to cool down.

“Y/N?” You wake up hear Jughead calling into your room, you can hear him moving around it and you sit up trying your best not to just run over to him like your heat wants you to do. You sit for a moment your head pounding as you sit against the freezer. You keep your eyes close as he walks into the kitchen. “Did you fall asleep on the kitchen floor?” “It’s cold.” You whine and open your eyes to see him nodding. “Come on, you should get to bed.” You let him lead you back towards it and curl under the blanket he pulls over you. “Get some rest love.” “You’ll stay?” You mumble into the covers and he nods. “Of course. I’m your Alpha aren’t I? You really should sleep though.” He narrows his eyes as you shift sitting upwards before you pull him onto the bed with you as you lie back down.

“Y/N I have to go make food, when was the last time you ate?” “When we got food at Pop’s.” You shrug at him and he chews his lip. “Well that’s not too bad, you only missed dinner and breakfast, so pancakes sound good?” He grins and you nod excitedly. You must have fallen asleep because when you wake back up Jughead’s wrapped around you reading whatever book he’d brought with him. “You’re skipping school.” You comment and he smiles. “And you’re not?” “I have a doctors note.” “And I have you; problem solved.” He leans over to kiss you and you try your best not to crawl on top of him. Still you end up shifting yourself awkwardly trying to avoid actually crawling onto him “Oh sorry I just-“ You can feel him moving; you realize he’s pulling you in and you duck your head nervously. “Do you not want to?” You can feel Jughead pause. “No I do but-“ You don’t finish before Jughead’s pulling you against him with his hands. He hums as he kisses you, pulling you on his lap so you’re straddling him.

“Jonsie;” You hesitate and he kisses you once more. “Yes?” You can feel your face heating up; every part of you feels too warm. You nuzzle into his neck, whining faintly. “Y/N? Baby?” He pauses bumping his nose into your neck; you can hear him gasp slightly, before his nose is joined by his mouth; his tongue moving against your neck. He hums again, but you swear it’s a growl as he pulls you more onto the bed, flipping you so you’re on your back and he’s on top of you. His eyes dark black suddenly as he kisses you deeper. “Y/N, what you want? Hmm?” He pulls back, leg resting between yours, you can’t even remember spreading them. You look up, you feel hazy, your body moving sluggishly, you squeeze your eyes shut and Jughead curls around you, pulling you up slightly to hug you against him.

“Oh.” His eyes widen, colour returning to them as he smirks slightly before lowering you back down. You brain feels a little less hazy, although the heat is still running under your skin. As Jughead moves away you let a small whine out, flushing in embarrassment when he returns to hovering over you. “Tell me what you need love.” His voice is quiet and you frown, sitting up as he does and pouting. “What’s wrong?” He doesn’t finish before you’re on top of him, whimpering and grinding against him face shoved into his neck breathing him in. Your brain is still fuzzy, half formed ideas fluttering through the fog. You try your best to make sense of any of the thoughts, but you can’t think of anything besides Jughead. “Jonesie, please, please Alpha.” You barely breathe the last part before he’s on top of you again, fingers tugging off your clothes mouth against yours before you whine feeling his skin cooling you down immediately. You can feel his hand drifting lower and you squirm against his fingers as he smirks. “There we go, easy now. Such a good Omega.” His voice is quiet, soft with wonder. You bump your forehead with his as he moves to kiss you again. “Yours.” You nod to him and he smirks nodding back.

“And I’m yours.” You nod whining as his fingers pull away, moaning slightly as he enters you. You’re not fully focused on what he’s saying only whimpering as he slows down, nipping his bottom lip as he laughs a little, readjusting and pushing his face back into your neck, before you can feel him starting to move faster. You whine hands wrapping around him and bucking your hips with his thrusts. You turn your neck to him, your brain seeming to cause you to move before you speak. He hums as he finishes thrusting, teeth sinking into your neck at the same time. Your vision goes fuzzy for a moment, his face blurring as he pulls back, the warmth pulling from your body and pooling in your neck before it seems to flow around you. You sigh contently as he licks the side of you neck pulling both of your clothes back over. “Sleep more.” He hums into your neck and you nod clinging to him, you can see him smirking and you want to ask but he shakes his head kissing you as he covers both of you in the blanket.

You wake alone and try to focus on any sense of sound before you think about panicking. “Y/N. I can tell you’re awake.” Jughead greets as he walks back into the room. “You can?” “Well I was watching you from the doorway. That sounds creepy to be honest, can you just pretend I didn’t say that.” “Why were you watching my from the doorway?” “Well I was going to wake you to say I got Pop’s; but I got distracted.” “Watching me sleep?” “You’re pretty. I like to look at pretty things.” “Just pretty?” “I can think more once we’ve eaten, come on; it’s going to get cold if you stay in bed any longer.” “Well once we’ve eaten you’ll have to tell me everything you’re thinking about me.” You grin and he laughs. “Of course, you’re my Omega, why wouldn’t I. The faster we eat this the faster the rest of the pack won’t find out.” “About us? Or the fact you got Pop’s without them?” “Oh my god I got Pop’s without them they’re going to plan a coup.” You laugh pulling a fry from the bottom of the bag. ‘Well we should get eating then we can go back to bed and pretend nothing happened food wise.” You grin and he nods kissing you before he pulls his burger out.

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