#is it a road trip if it lasts less than hour? i say yes

[stealthnoodle]

In this chapter, we reach the portion of my outline that begins with "PALACE ADVENTURE GO GO GO," and Ren and Akechi make a new deal.

[oh-no-its-bird]

This is a stupid one so gear up for that, but;

The Akatsuki celebrate Christmas with some sort of secret santa / gift swap thing.

Deidara gets Tobi, and is really mad about it because he'd gotten Tobi last year and ended up being mocked for his shitty gift giving skills (among other things)

This leads him to basically go, "shit ok fine. I will give this motherfucker THE best gift. A gift so good he will have no choice but to shut the hell up and just say thank you"

And so he's agonizing over what to give him, because also Tobi is a fucking weirdo and it's so hard to predict him. Deidara could spend hours of time thinking something up and then and hundreds of ryo actually getting something and the freak would make fun of it somehow, but if he got him a misshapen snail shell off the side of the road he might lose his mind in gratitude.

So this is like, a whole puzzle really

Then, he has it. Isn't there some Konoha nin the guy is not so subtly obsessed with...?

So yeah, Deidara kidnapping Kakashi (possibly roping someone else into helping him) as a surprise Christmas gift for Tobi.

This is about to be the worst most humiliating thing to ever happen to Kakashi.

We're going the itadei route because I love itadei, Deidara somehow ropes Itachi (and Kisame) into helping him kidnap Kakashi.

Deidara originally goes for Kisame for help thinking smthn up to get for Tobi, since they seem to get along, and Kisame is the one to mention his Kakashi obsession.

Deidara is like, "oh fuck???" And announces his new plans

Itachi is within earshot and makes a comment on how that's a stupid fucking idea, and seeing as Deidara couldn't even take him down, he'd count his chances with Kakashi.

(Which. Is a bit of an odd scale but don't think ab it too long)

Deidara is like "bitch??? So you can do better?? Huh???"

And Itachi is like "not that I would want to throw myself into such a useless fight. But yes, I could do infinitely better than you. In a lot of aspects in, frankly."

So this devolves and basically Itachi ends up tripping and falling and accidentally volunteering himself to help kidnap Kakashi.

Which, by the way, is not really something either he OR Deidara wants. But he's here now, so.

(*Itadei noises*)

Kisame also possibly ends up coming along for the ride too

So anyways, these guys head off to kidnap Kakashi !! Good for them.

Umm skipping through the entire adventure, Deidara and Itachi bicker (Deidara much louder than Itachi) Kisame treats this whole thing like it's a free comedy show, things (inevitably) get blown up, and, of course, Kakashi is ambushed

So like. Akatsuki, right? Terrorist organization with a goal of doing nefarious things to Jinchuriki. Obviously, Kakashi is kidnapped by them and assumes the worst.

He's a high ranking jonin, ex ANBU captain, close to multiple Hokages, and they were clearly directly targeting him. So yk, he's on guard. Tries to escape several times over, till Itachi dumps him head first in a genjutsu

(one that he loosens when it's Deidara's turn to keep watch, to give him someone to actually watch over so he can "feel useful" (and to annoy him)) <- this is also very disorienting for Kakashi

But instead of torturing Kakashi, when they arribe at their base they ?? Wrap him in ribbons ?? Like a fucking Christmas gift ???

Kakashi has no idea what is going on.

And then they dump him in what is clearly some guys bedroom ???? Without much else security ?????

Kakashi has no idea whats going on.

They do share a bit, and like, Kakashi picks up on what's happening pretty quick (though it makes the entire thing no less insane)

Apparently one of the Akatsuki members is... really into him...? Which, actually, is incredibly valuable information to have.

In general this entire thing is super educational for Kakashi— Deidara doesn't give a fuck what Akatsuki secrets he may let loose, Itachi is checked out from all of this and doesn't care enough to stop Deidara from running his mouth, and Kisame is somewhere in the realm of "as long as they don't talk about anything of our mission, it's probably fine?"

So like. Kakashi is learning things rn. Valuable things. Names and dynamics and whatever the fuck is happening in Itachi's corner of the world (that last bit he's especially interested in, both bc Konoha defect, Sasuke's older brother, and also just. Hey, he helped train that guy. Team ro nostalgia or whatever. There's something there)

They don't... seem to be interested in harming him...?

So for now, even as they leave him in a room he could maybe escape from if he tried to, he kinda self assigns himself a lowkey infiltration mission. A classic "get into their camps via being a prisoner but spy on them from the inside, since that position sees more than the outside anyways."

Which is to say: he doesn't try to escape.

Instead, he buckles in to wait and see where this takes him

So anyways then Obito gets back from wherever he's been off screen. Doing terrorism, probably. And he's also just in time for the akatsuki Christmas party, yippie

And Deidara is like, swanning around, nose in the air, "oh Tobi you'll NEVER guess what gift I got you... really you'll never guess... but it is GREAT and I am winning Christmas FOREVER after this"

And Obito is kinda curious but not too optimistic (he's like 80% sure it's gonna be another clay sculpture that blows up in his face like last year. Though maybe this year it'll be shaped like something he likes...?)

But he's in Tobi mode so he's giggling and going "omg senpai I can't wait <33 I hope you got me a cool stick teehee"

And then Deidara guides him to his own room, and they have a bit of an audience just from how fucking loud Deidara has been bragging about this (also multiple people at this point know what he did and they want to see the reactions)

And Obito opens his door.

And it's.

Kakashi.

In his room.

On his bed.

In an Akatsuki uniform. Wrapped in ribbons.

And they make eye contact. And Kakashi goes, "Maah, I don't suppose you're—"

Obito closes the door.

Obito opens the door back up again.

"That was a little rude, don't you—"

Obito closes the door.

Obito crouches on the floor, just, head in his hands. He might be hyperventilating a little bit.

Deidara is directly over his shoulder going "Huh? Huh? What do you think? Are you speechless or what? Hey, where's my thanks? Do you know how hard this was to do? I had to deal with fucking Itachi to do this, you know, so—"

And Obito, not in his Tobi voice but in his real, much deeper normal voice, interrupts him with, "I need you to shut the fuck up right now"

Deidara does shut up, actually. Miracle that that is. For all of like 10 seconds and mostly out of shock.

But then he's very much NOT shutting up as he puts his hands on his hips and starts going off about how this was SUPER HARD TO DO and Tobi BETTER BE FUCKING GRATEFUL !!!!!!!!!!

Obito is still crouched on the floor with his head in his hands going through every emotion known to man at once.

Kisame and Itachi are directly behind them eating popcorn w some other misc Akatsuki

Obito finally finds his words, which are "you KIDNAPPED KAkAshi??????!???????"

And Deidara is like "YEAH BITCH SINCE YOURE SUCH A SAPPY LITTLE PUPPY DOG FOR HIM I THOUGHT ID GO ABOVE AND BEYOND AS YOUR SENPAI !!! BUT IF YOURE GONNA BE UNGRATEFUL ABOUT IT THEN MAYBE ILL JUST GIVE HIM TO SOMEONE ELSE THEN!!!!"

and Obito is like "YOU CANT JUST G IV e HIM TO PEOPLE !!! HES— HES KAKASHI—!!!" and then quickly corrects himself with, "I MEAN— HE'S A MAN!!!!!"

and Deidara is like "ILL GIVE ANYONE TO ANYONE I DAMN PLEASE!!!!" and whirls around and points at Kisame and goes "YOU. DO YOU WANT HIM?"

And Kisame, who doesn't want him but thinks this whole thing is very funny, just goes, "he's cute."

Which sets Obito off in an entirely different direction, bc now he's screaming about how NO ONE IS GETTING KAKASHI because they are going to PUT HIM BACK IN KONOHA WHERE HE BELONGS

And Deidara is fully screaming too now because he went through SO MUCH FUCKING WORK TO GET THIS MAN HERE!!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD HE WAS TO CATCH!!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT WAS TO SUBDUE HIM!!!!! AND HE HAD TO DEAL WITH ITACHI THE WHOLE TIME!!!!!!! THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME!!!!!!!! HIS SMUG ANNOYING ATTITUDE!!!!!!!!!

Itachi continues to eat his popcorn.

Obito and Deidara continue screaming at eachother till Deidara finally goes MOTHERFUCKER YOU ARE NOT WASTING MY HARD WORK and pushes Obito into the room then locks it.

Kakashi, who has heard absoloutley every word that was screamed directly outside his door, and also now feels a lot more safe and secure about his current situation (even as he has come to the tragic conclusion that he was kidnapped by idiots), gives a little bit of a wiggle and goes,

"I don't suppose you could untie me?"

Now. Obito could technically escape, either way kamui or just shifting through the walls

But it would require giving away one of his his trump cards to Kakashi. And also he... well. He does want to, to be clear. He is crawling out of his fucking skin with the desire to be anywhere but here

But at the same time, he... doesn't want to waste this opportunity to just be looked at by Kakashi

Not hiding in the shadows, invisible.

So anyways Obito and Kakashi like, talk idk. Maybe they kiss, who knows.

Kakashi is now fully aware that this guy is apparently a freak about him (and a stalker??? The others mentioned him knowing things he should not know about Kakashi, which is worrying) and he will use this knowledge to his advantage

Obito is not immune to Kakashi taking advantage of him somehow, nor is he immune to potentially letting Kakashi take advantage/trick him somehow, while pretending to be ignorant and keeping that supposed ignorance as a shield to justify to himself why it happened at all

What exactly happens in that room and what happens next is up for the readers to decide, have fun with that

Anyways. Next Christmas Deidara gets Itachi and is, yet again, really fucking mad about it.

He gets way overly invested in giving him the "best" gift, seeing it as an opportunity to "make that bastard be humble and say thank you"

And then because apparently all Deidara seems to know how to fucking do is kidnap people, (tho to be fair, "kidnapping people" is like one of the core foundations of the Akatsuki) he decides a great gift would be kidnapping that little brother of Itachi's for him !!!

He can kill him, torture him, whatever— Deidara doesn't care, he just wants the credit. Man, he's such a good gift giver.

Obviously, handing over the "present" (a terrified Sasuke) goes about as well as Obito's own Christmas gift the previous year. Possibly worse. Itachi is losing his fucking mind but quietly (the most dangerous way to lose it) and on the inside (there are nuclear explosions happening in his brain)

Sasuke is convinced he's about to be murdered and Itachi now has to think of a reason why he can't do that and also hopefully get Sasuke back to Konoha. But also if he just lets him go like he wants to, Deidara will legit lose his fucking mind, which would be annoying.

Hmmm. Torture his brother (again) or deal with Deidara potentiallg throwing a fit because no one ever "appreciates" his hard work in gift giving. What a difficult choice.

Anyways in another world, instead of fucking kidnapping the man, Deidara just made a vaguley horny Kakashi figurine for Tobi and had Sasori help him paint it.

Which ended up getting Obito to spiral and custom commission several more pieces of vaguley horny Kakashi merchandise, till he had a room full of it and could no longer deny the fact he's a certified freak

Umm then Itachi and Deidara make out sloppy style the end

[roosterforme]

Does darlin ever catch Jake off guard? And make him come prematurely? If she does, why does she like it so much?

As soon as I read this, I imagined them taking a road trip in his truck. Maybe he has to go up to Lemoore for work, and since she's on a school break, she rides up with him... (smut ahead)

Jake let you pick out the snacks and the playlist while he did all the driving. You spent hours serenading him quite badly and eating M&Ms and chips while he sang quite nicely and ate an apple.

When the sun started to set, he removed his Ray-Bans and asked you to put them away in the glovebox for him. As soon as you opened the latch, you felt the truck swerve.

"What happened?" you asked as Jake reached out and tried to close the glovebox with a lot of frustration on his face.

"You can just leave the sunglasses on the dash," he grunted, still trying to close the compartment while he drove up the highway. But you swatted his hand away as soon as you saw a flat box from a jewelry store in Coronado in there.

"What's this?" you asked, tapping it with your index finger as his face turned red. "Is it for me?" When he kept his eyes focused straight ahead and didn't answer, you asked, "Or is it for your other girlfriend?"

"What?!" he asked in surprise, glancing at you as he swerved a bit again. "Jesus, Darlin'. Yes. Of course it's for you. Okay? Are you happy? It's a necklace for you. It was supposed to be a surprise, and I forgot I moved it there."

Your heart felt like it was going to burst into a million pieces. "You got me a necklace?" you whispered, already opening the box. "Oh my god."

There was a dainty gold chain and a tiny charm that said Darlin' hanging from it, and you wanted to fling yourself at your boyfriend.

"Well?" he asked, voice still a little gruff at you having accidentally ruined the surprise. "You like it?"

"I'm obsessed," you told him, already putting it around your neck. It fell right to the top of the swell of your breasts, and you desperately wanted to thank him, but he was still driving up the highway.

"Good," he murmured, and then you reached across the bench seat for the zipper of his jeans. "What are you doing?"

You bit you lips and eased the zipper down so you were able to feel him through his boxer briefs. "Saying thank you."

"While I'm driving?" he asked, making absolutely no move to stop you.

"Mmhmm."

Once you had your bare hand wrapped around his cock, he groaned your name. He was hard and clearly excited as you gave him a handjob while he drove. Occasionally he muttered "fuck" or "that's good", but he mostly let you do whatever you wanted to him. You cupped his balls with your right hand and jerked your hand up and down his cock with your left, and all the while, your pretty necklace caught the last rays of the setting sun.

"Shit," he groaned. "Darlin', slow down. I'm about to cum."

"Already? That was fast," you replied with a smirk.

"You caught me off guard, Smartass," he growled, looking around frantically. "I need to pull over and fuck you before I make a mess everywhere."

"You won't make a mess."

You leaned down at the last minute, wrapped your lips around his cock, and let him fill your mouth with cum while he groaned and moaned. "God, that feels incredible."

Then you licked him clean, kissed his cock before tucking it back inside his underwear, and muttered, "See? No mess."

Once again, he didn't give you a verbal response as he shook his head while he drove, but he did reach for your hand to hold it.

"I really do like my necklace," you promised with a smile. "And I liked making you cum in less than three minutes."

"Smartass."

[antimonyandthyme]

carcar the last of us au snippet

warnings: past character death, descriptions of the infected, descriptions of use of weapons and violence

What Carlos wants to say, in a way fashioned entirely after his father: That grave is about as deep as it needs to be. No one has the luxury to mourn. Stop fucking around and move on or die standing still.

What he actually says: “Do you need help?”

“No,” Oscar says, curt. “I should be the one to lay him to rest.”

“Okay,” Carlos says.

Maybe it’ll help Oscar, and Carlos shouldn’t begrudge him that. Help him avoid the scenario in which every infected thereafter shared facial characteristics with Charles. Max. A pretty mouth, a strong jaw. It’s his fault, after all. Carlos should have taken the time to bury all of that under the dirt. But all he could do was run.

There’s an almost relaxing rhythmic sound to the ground being hacked up, and a different kind of tanginess to the smell of fresh earth that lets him forget about blood for a moment.

He could be kind, sit at the foot of the grave and listen to Oscar talk about Logan. Why he thought coming back to where they grew up was a good idea. All these good ideas crumbling to dust, at every town they've witnessed that has eaten itself from the inside out.

Carlos closes his eyes. He doesn’t quite know what to do with another faceless loss, can’t add another number to his collection.

And anyway, Oscar's seen his fair share. He’s too good with the shovel for this to be his first.

Carlos clears his throat, when Oscar's finally done placing some leafy branch at the head of the grave. Flowers. On a grave. That’s some doe-eyed rose-tinted bullshit. There’s a strangled bird, caged somewhere to the left of Carlos’ chest. He doesn’t allow that bird any food or warmth or hope, for fear of softness. Can’t be soft if you want to survive.  

“We should move,” he says.

“We?” Oscar reels his head up. The loss carving its way down his cheeks haven’t fully dried, but he looks hopeful, almost like a lost dog. With how Carlos acts, he probably hadn't expected an offer like this. It should've been cut and dry. Getting you to your city, in exchange for a car battery.

“It’s a simple question,” Carlos says. “Are you coming?”

If he wasn’t already fucked all ways to Sunday, making his way along this forsaken earth with two rounds of ammunition and less than a quart tank of gas left, he’s definitely fucked now, adding a bleeding heart to their journey. But Carlos imagines Charles’ face if he were to leave a kid behind and—damn him for that. For being a ghost and still demanding good of him.

“Yes,” Oscar says.

Arguments and energy spent on arguments should be saved for the important things. Carlos throws what’s left of their shit into the back of the trunk, and wordlessly, gets into the driver’s seat.

--

“I’m just saying.” Oscar’s insistent. He’s spent the first half an hour of the journey staring vacantly out the window, but apparently, country music’s where he draws the line. “If for some reason this car caught on fire—”

“Don’t you even dare,” Carlos says. The thought of losing the Sienna makes him want to shrivel up and die. With luck, they managed to jack a vehicle with a working CD player. Tunes are a necessity in what is essentially a never-ending road trip. “I don’t want to think about it.”

“If it did,” Oscar says, “and I only had time to save one album—”

“Zach Bryan,” Carlos says.

“No,” Oscar says flatly.

“Dios mio. I should have left you back there.”

“You nearly did,” Oscar points out, but it doesn’t sound accusing. At Carlos’ furtive glance, he shrugs. “No hard feelings. I know what you’re doing.”

“Yeah?” Carlos doesn’t like the sound of that, gets his back all up. Ten and two on the wheel, lest he reaches for Oscar’s shirt to shake him until his teeth rattle. “What am I doing?”

“Self-defense,” Oscar says.

“I really should have left you.”

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way.” Seemingly chastised, Oscar digs his teeth into his lower lip. Charles used to do that too, before he acquired the ability to unhinge his jaw and take larger bites. “You look out for your own, right?”

Carlos wonders if Oscar can see his trauma for what it is. The way Carlos has been tuned toward Oscar in the passenger seat, as if an infected would crash through the windscreen at any second. The way he’d swerve right, driver’s seat to the road, without a second thought, if it meant his neck would be exposed instead of Oscar’s.

He’s got nothing to offer but his own body.

“I’m doing such a great job of it.”

“Mate,” Oscar says warily. If he could hedgehog his way any further into the car’s upholstery, he would be so far back he’d be invisible by now. Zach croons in the staticky background, There ain’t no world in which I am good for you. Ain’t no world, now or ever. “I wasn’t saying you weren’t.”

“No, really,” Carlos says, a little hysterically, “I’m doing such a great job—”

--

There were things in the world that should not have applied to Charles. Spend upwards of two months to four years with him and you’d start to imagine that his fingernails never got dirty, or that his smile never got ugly, or that his face never got bloodied.

But he turned like everyone else.

His skin bleached itself until every single vein was visible, and his eyes lost all recognition. He could still speak, for the first bit. Said their names in what was almost a parody. Cahlos. Cahhhlos.

“We have to,” Max couldn’t finish his sentence, though he kept trying. “We have to—”

Charles lunged for them like a rabid animal. They cringed, but the tire chains wound around Charles hold fast, and he shrunk back. Before lunging again, and again. If Carlos were a better man, he’d put Charles out of his misery. Too bad he was a big fucking coward.

“Don’t,” Carlos hissed, absolutely feral, when Max squared his shoulders and took a step forward. “Don’t touch him.”

Max’s chest rose and fall in rapid succession. His eyes were glassy and hollow. Max, who Carlos had never seen shed a tear once, who they all joked would survive them all. He looked a gentle tap away from breaking. “This isn’t about our stupid feelings, it’s about what Charles would have wanted.”

“Fuck you,” Carlos said, to nobody in particular. To maybe himself. Charles was his responsibility when they went on the raid for food, and Charles was still his responsibility now. Till the end. He’d shown Carlos the bite on his calf, almost guiltily, and remained docile and quiet when Carlos wrapped him in chains, while Carlos breathed through what was most definitely a panic attack.

Easy, Carlos. You’ve got to care of Max now. Easy, come on, breathe Carlos. It doesn’t hurt much, not now anyway. Just. Do me a favour. Make it quick, alright?

Cahhhhlos.

“I’ll take care of it,” Carlos said, because all of this was his fault. In the chaos at the grocery store, he got separated from Charles for a harrowing two and half minutes. That was all it took. “Just. Just give me a moment. Just give me a second, alright?”

Charles snarled, snapping his teeth against the metal biting into his skin. This couldn’t be how Carlos remembered him.

“I’ll do it in the morning,”Carlos promised. I’ll do it after sunrise, so he gets to see it one last time.

In the morning, this is what he found:

Charles, chest cavity open, lying still like he was peacefully asleep.

And Max, bleeding out from a bite wound in his forearm, the gun used to lay Charles to rest tucked at his feet. His skin was paper white, but his eyes were still bright.

“I fucked up,” Max said. It was the way he said it. Completely accepting and calm. It made Carlos drop to his knees and hack out the nothing he had left in his stomach. Bile burned his throat raw. “I thought I could do it, so you wouldn’t have to. Sorry.”

Carlos trembled, pushed his forehead into the ground. The entire world was bearing down on him like a magnifying glass on an ant. He didn’t want to look up. If he didn’t look up, then this didn’t have to be real.

“Carlos,” Max said, more gently than Carlos had ever heard him. By some magnetic, supernatural force, it lifted Carlos’ head from the dirt. Max had enough in him to kick the gun over to Carlos, and life in him yet for the corner of his mouth to twitch up. “You can do it.”

Carlos shook his head mutely.

The expression on Max’s face morphed into something unfamiliar. Pleading. It would carry itself into Carlos’ nightmares and every single infected running after him after. “You can. Just don’t fuck it up this time.”

--

“I’m,” Oscar says. He sounds heartbroken for people he doesn’t even know. “I’m sorry about your friends.”

“You didn’t know,” Carlos says. He never should have said anything. Maybe it’s the kid, snapping, I should be the one to do it. Mirrors are a relic of the past, but Carlos looks at Oscar and sees the same jagged stubbornness lining all his edges. “I’m sorry about Logan.”

They pass the rest of the drive in silence.

[canirove]

The invinsible princess | Chapter 7

“Like the title of that Beyoncé song said…”

Author's note: This is one of my favourite chapters, so I hope you like it as much as I do. And to the anon who sent me the loveliest message ever the other day... I'm still thinking about it, thank you very much 😭💜

Chapter 6 | Chapter 8

Masterlist

“I can't fucking feel my ass” I say while getting out of the camper van Pedri and I have rented for our road trip. 

“Sofía!” he gasps. “Those aren't words for a lady like yourself!”

“Oh, I beg for your forgiveness, my lord. Please allow me to rephrase it… Blimey!” I gasp, covering my mouth like women did in old movies. “I can't feel my lower back after being sat for the past two hours!”

“Much better. Thank you, my lady” Pedri says, doing a little curtsey. 

“My lord” I reply, doing the same before we both start laughing. Whoever sees us behaving like this at a petrol station, must think we are crazy. “Anyway, can you do me a favour before you start with that?” I ask him, nodding towards the van.

“Of course. What does the lady need?”

“I need to use the bathroom, but I don't want to go alone.”

“What?” Pedri laughs. 

“Yeah, I just… What if I'm doing my business and someone comes in and catches me there? I don't want to go online and see that a photo of myself sitting on the toilet has gone viral.”

After my first and so far only viral photo, the one with Charles Leclerc a few years ago, I've become a bit less invisible than what I was used to. Most people still pay more attention to my sister Leonor, but Carlos has had to stop paparazzis from taking photos of me and my aunt leaving work together more than once. 

“Ok, fine” Pedri sighs. “It is a bit weird to not have Carlos around, isn't it? He usually is the one who does these things.”

“It is, yes. But it was what we wanted, so” I shrug.

“I'm sure he still is keeping an eye on us somehow” Pedri says as we walk towards the back of the petrol station, where the bathroom is. “I can see him glued to his phone, checking the van’s GPS to make sure we are following the route we shared with him” he laughs. “He may have even set some microphones and cameras inside to make sure we are alive.”

“For his own sake, I hope he hasn't.”

“Because of what he may have heard last night, for example?” he smirks. 

“If you mean your snoring, then yes. But I was talking about you singing while driving.”

“I beg your pardon?” 

“Let's just say that becoming a singer isn't a career path you should follow once you retire from football.”

“So rude, my lady. So rude… And we've made it.”

“Aren't you going inside?”

“What?” Pedri chuckles.

“Yeah… To make sure there is no one hiding or something.”

“Sofía, this petrol station isn't like the ones you see in American movies. Here they clean their bathrooms and there isn't a guy hiding behind a door ready to kidnap you and take you to his cabin in the woods.”

“Better safe than sorry” I shrug.

“Urgh, fine” he replies, rolling his eyes and walking into the bathroom. “It's empty, you can come in.”

“Did you check it properly?”

“Yes, I did. There is no one inside, and it is quite clean. Maybe not as much as those golden toilets you have at the palace where you can see your own reflection, but they are ok.”

“Idiot” I say, giving him a little push and making him laugh. “But thank you, Pedri.”

“Anything for you, my lady” he smiles.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“I think we'll have enough with these snacks until we… Sofía? What are you doing?”

“Have you ever used one of these?” I say, looking at the machines outside the petrol station’s shop.

“Yeah. Who hasn't?” Pedri chuckles. “Oh. Sorry. You…”

“As a kid we often saw them when we were on holidays, but my mum never allowed Leonor and I to buy anything from them. She said they were just a stupid way to waste your money on useless stuff.”

“I mean, she's not wrong. But we used to have one at the bar in Tenerife, and just seeing the kids’ faces when the ball comes out of the machine and they open it to see which surprise they've gotten makes it worth it.”

“I guess...”

“Here, take this.”

“Why are you giving me these coins?”

“They are the change I got from buying our snacks” he says, nodding towards the bag in his hand. “You can use them on the machines.”

“What?”

“You just told me that you've always wanted to give them a go, haven't you? Then do it, Sofía. You are an adult now, your mum won't scold you for doing it” he chuckles.

“I… I… Thank you, Pedri” I say before wrapping my arms around his neck and hugging him. 

“That's ok” he smiles. “C'mon, let's see what they have.”

The first machine is a Pokémon one, and each ball has a different figurine inside it. 

“What is that?” 

“Pedri, this is Charizard!”

“I'm only familiar with Pikachu” he shrugs.

“You… seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“And then I'm the weird one.”

“You aren't weird, Sofía” he says, kissing my cheek before I put another coin on the next machine. This one has just little teddy bears made of rubber. Very ugly teddy bears. “That smile they painted on him is kind of creepy, isn't it?” Pedri says when I open the ball I got.

“A bit, yes” I laugh, moving to the next machine. This one has little racing cars, and he is definitely way more excited about it than me. “This one is for you” I say, giving him one of the coins.

“For me?”

“For you” I smile. “I know you are dying to do it and see which car you will get.”

“I actually am, yes” he smiles back.

“But wait, let me get my phone and film you. I have the feeling this is going to be the cutest thing ever.”

“Everything I do is cute, my lady” he winks before crouching down in front of the machine, looking like a kid on Christmas morning when he opens the ball and sees the car inside it. “Now it is my turn to film you” he says once he has calmed down. 

“Me?”

“The last one has jewelry or something like that. And you like your jewels, my lady” he smirks.

“I do, yes” I reply, my hand instinctively moving to my necklace. To the banana charm, the S one, and the new addition: a P one he got me for my birthday last year.

“And? What is it?” Pedri asks me when I open the ball. 

“I think… oh.”

“That actually is quite nice, isn't it? Let me help you put it on.”

“What?” I chuckle.

“I have to practice for when it's time for the real one” he smirks, taking the ring from my hand and putting the phone on his pocket. Because the surprise on that last ball had been a ring, one that didn't look that bad for just 1€. “There you go. Perfect.”

“Though not as perfect as you” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck once again. “Thank you very much for this, Pedri.”

“For putting a ring on your finger?”

“For everything. From checking the bathroom to see if there was a murderer lurking in the shadows, to buying me my favourite chocolate bar without me asking for it, and for letting me experience this and go home with a very cool ring. The real one is gonna have to be a really cool ring to be better than this one” I say with a teasing smile.

“It isn't gonna be an easy task, no. But I'll do my best. Because for you, my lady… For you I would do anything.”

“Aww, Pedri…” I say, trying to not start crying in the middle of a petrol station. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sofía” he says before kissing me.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Ok, what happened.”

“Uh?”

“Pedri, you've been dating my sister for years and you know I love you like a brother” Leonor says. “But this is the first time we are having lunch together just the two of us without Sofía.”

“Then it was time we did it, don't you think?” he shrugs, focusing on his food.

“Pedri…” Leonor sighs. “What happened? Is everything ok between you two?”

“Yeah.”

“Then?”

“Then nothing.”

“Pedro!” Leonor says, raising her voice.

“God, you just sounded like your mum when she gets mad with your dad” he chuckles.

“Oh, this is not me being mad. Me being mad is something you don't want to see, so you better tell me what the hell is going on.”

“I…” he gulps. “I want to propose to Sofía.”

“No!” Leonor gasps, making Pedri thank everything for being alone in a private area of the restaurant. Because if they had been surrounded by people, all eyes would be in them after how loud that gasp had been. “You are going to do it?”

“Yeah” he says, nervously playing with his fork.

“How? When? Where?”

“I don't know yet. I actually decided it this morning.”

“What?”

“Yeah” Pedri says again. “I had just left my therapist's office, and it hit me: I was ready. I am ready to ask Sofía to marry me and to deal with everything that will come once it is made oficial.”

“Wow” Leonor says. “But do you think she is ready for it too? To stop being the invisible princess like she always says? Because this engagement is gonna be talked about worldwide. The princess and the football player! The fanfic that becomes a reality!” she chuckles.

“Has she shown you the ring she got during our road trip this summer?”

“The plastic one she loves so much?”

“The very same. When I gave it to her I told her it was practice for when I put the real one on her finger” Pedri says. “And since then, we've been talking a lot more about getting married, about how it will be, what will change, discussed it with our therapist… And I think she also is ready, that we both are on the same page.”

“Then it is happening. It's happening!” 

“Leonor, what are you…”

“What happened?” the queen says over the phone.

“Hello to you too, mum” Leonor replies, rolling her eyes.

“Hi, sorry. But what happened? Why are you calling me at lunch time?”

“Is dad with you?”

“Hello!” the king says. “Where are you, Leonor?”

“I'm in Barcelona, visiting Sofía.”

“Oh, is she there? Are you girls out together?” the king asks her.

“I'm out with someone, but not her. Pedri, say hello” she says, turning her phone so it faces him.

“I… Umm… Hello” he says with an awkward smile, hoping her parents can't see that he is blushing. Even though he has known them for years and shared many things with them, sometimes he still goes all shy when he remembers he is talking to the King and Queen of Spain.

“Oh, Pedri!” the queen says. “How are you? Everything ok?”

“Yes, perfect. Thank you for asking. And sorry for interrupting your lunch.”

“Oh, don't worry about that. What happened?”

“Uh?”

“Something must have happened for Leonor to call us and for you two to be having lunch together without Sofía” the queen says.

“Well… I… Umm” he mumbles.

“It's happening, mum” Leonor says, moving the phone so it is facing her again. “He's doing it!”

“He is doing what?” the king asks. 

“He is going to ask Sofía to marry him!”

“No!” the queen gasps as loudly as Leonor earlier. Maybe even louder. “You better not be messing with us.”

“I’m not, mum. I swear. Pedri, tell them” she says, turning her phone again. 

“I… Ummm… Yeah. It's true” he says. “I want to ask Sofía to marry me.”

“He's doing it! He is doing it!” the queen screams.

“I heard you, darling” the king chuckles. 

“Our baby is getting married!”

“First she has to say yes” he chuckles again. “And I have to give Pedri my blessing too.”

“Oh, please” she says, rolling her eyes. “You don't need to do that. It is just a formality, not something you actually have to do, and we live in the 21st century, not the middle ages. Besides, we all know you love him like the son you never had. You are as happy as I am about this. Maybe even more.”

“I am, yes” he smiles. “And even if you don't need it, you have my blessing, Pedri.”

“Thank you, sir” he replies.

“Now, details” the queen says. “Have you chosen a ring? Do you know where you are going to propose? And when? Because we have a trip to South America coming soon and…”

“Mum, relax” Leonor chuckles.

“Sorry, I'm sorry. I am just so happy for them!”

“We can tell, darling” the king says. “But tell us, Pedri. Have you thought of anything?”

“I have not, no” he says. “I was hoping that you and Leonor could help me, because I don't know where to start. I mean, I have some ideas about where I could do it, but the ring? She likes jewellery so much and each piece she owns is so different that I don't know what she could like. And maybe there is like some tradition to follow? A ring to pass from one generation to another? I don't know.”

“I think I have an idea” the king says.

“You?” the queen says, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes, me. Has she ever told you about her favourite painting?”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“I can't believe you managed to close an entire museum to celebrate our anniversary.”

“Perks of being your grandmother's favourite” Pedri winks. “And this is your museum too.”

“What?”

“Reina Sofía?”

“Pedri, this museum was named after my grandmother, not me. We may share the same name, but I've never been and never will be queen.”

“You are the queen of my heart, tho” he smirks.

“Oh… my God” I laugh, my voice echoing on the empty corridors. Or almost empty since I know Carlos is keeping an eye on us from somewhere.

“What? It is the truth” Pedri says before making me twirl and pulling me against his body. “Have I told you yet that you look beautiful tonight?”

“You have, yes” I say, wrapping my hands around his neck while he starts to slowly rock us from side to side. 

We are dancing to no music in the middle of a museum, surronded by art and history eveywhere, and it is… It is the most romantic thing ever.

“Well, you look so beautiful that I have to say it many times so it is accurate.”

“Like me telling you that I love you many times per day and still not being enough to show how much I love you?”

“Exactly” he smiles before making me twirl again. “Should we continue with our tour?”

“I like it here.”

“But I don't like that guy in that painting. It's like he is judging us.”

“If he can read minds, he probably is judging me.”

“You? Why? What is that pretty head of yours thinking about?”

“This pretty head…” I say, moving closer so only he can hear me. “Is thinking about all the things she wants to do to you, and all the things she wants you to do to her once we are alone.”

“Oh… I see.”

“Yep” I smile. “Though that king should not judge me too much since history books say he had like ten lovers and more than twenty bastards besides the five kids with his wife.”

“Really?”

“I mean, the legitimate kids definitely were five, there are records of it. The lovers and the bastards depend on the historian you ask. But everyone agrees on him not being the most faithful of husbands. He was married to one of the most extraordinary women in our history, and he treated her like shit despite being the one who was keeping the kingdom from falling apart while he was hunting, partying and getting drunk with his friends.”

“You aren't his biggest fan, are you?” Pedri chuckles. 

“I am not, no.”

“But you do like his wife.”

“She is one of my favourite historical figures” I smile. “There actually is a painting of her here at the museum that is one of my favourites. Do you want to see it?”

“Of course” he smiles back. “Lead the way, my lady.”

“My lord” I giggle when he takes my hand on his and kisses it.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“She was beautiful.”

“She was, wasn't she?” I say while Pedri and I look at the painting in front of us. “And this is just a painting, so you can imagine how striking she must have been in real life. But she was more than just a pretty face. She was one of the most intelligent women of her time, and like I told you, the country didn't go to hell thanks to her.”

“So she basically was like you, but you have a faithful husband” Pedri winks.

“Oh, shut up” I laugh, giving him a little push. “First of all, you aren't my husband.”

“Yet” he smirks.

“And second, I've done nothing compared to everything she did.”

“Don’t say that, Sofía. You are helping people daily, making them happy and giving them hope, and I still haven't heard anyone complaining about it. And I'm talking about the people that matter, not the trolls online.”

“Yeah, I guess…” I sigh. 

“And if you don't believe me when I tell you that you are alike, just look at all the jewels she's wearing and the ones you are wearing right now. You are only missing the crown!”

“You know, I may like wearing so many things because of her” I chuckle.

“How so?”

“Even though I've always complained about my parents paying more attention to Leonor than me, there was a moment each month where I felt like that wasn't the case, and that was when my dad would bring me here to have something like a date just the two of us. We would visit a different part of the museum each time, but we would always come here and visit her, my dad always telling me something new about her. So I think I like jewellery so much because of all those hours I've spent looking at her and analysing every detail on this painting.”

“So like people say these days, you were influenced by her.”

“Exactly” I laugh.

“Do you have a favourite piece of jewellery she wears? Like one you wish you could have and wear every day if it was possible.”

“That ring” I say, pointing at it. 

“Wow, that was fast” Pedri chuckles.

“I've been obsessed with it since the first time I saw it for some reason. But unlike other pieces like the crown or the earrings, that one went missing. Some say she asked to be buried with it since it was a gift from the love of her life. And no, that wasn't the king.”

“So it was like… an engagement ring?”

“Something like that, yes” I say. “It was a ring that symbolised the love she and that man she loved so much had. A true and pure love that would last forever.”

“Like ours, then” Pedri smiles, kissing my hand again.

“Like ours, yes” I smile back. 

“One that we should also probably… seal, somehow.”

“What?”

“Sofía…” Pedri says, letting go of my hand to pick something that was hiding behind one of the benches on the room. A little box. A… wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait. Is that… Is he… “We always joke about me being the cheesy one in our relationship, but the truth is that when I have to actually be like that and put into words what I feel for you… What you make me feel… Well, I suck” he chuckles. “You actually are the one who has a way with words, the one who can properly express those feelings, not me. So since they say actions are louder than words, that's what I am going to do.”

“Pedri…” I whisper as he gets down on one knee. He's doing it. He is actually doing it, he… Holy shit.

“Sofía… my lady” he says with that smirk that he knows I love, the one I fell in love with the moment I first saw it years ago in Germany. “Would you marry me?”

“Pedri!” I gasp when I see the ring inside the little box. “Is that… is it…”

“We didn't desecrate any grave, don't worry” he chuckles. “This is a new ring, a copy of that one you love so much.”

“But I just told you about it! How did you…”

“Your dad” he smiles. “I didn't know which type of ring you would like because you like different styles, so I asked Leonor and your parents, and he mentioned this ring and this painting you've always been obsessed with.”

“So coming here tonight was my dad's idea?”

“That was all me, he just gave me the inspiration I needed. Going to museums has always been one of our favourite things to do together, this one has your name even if it wasn't named after you, it has your favourite painting of one of your favourite people, and the ring was inspired by it, so I thought it was the perfect place to ask you a question you haven't answered yet.”

“Uh?”

“I asked you a question, Sofía. Remember?”

“Oh, shit, sorry. Yes.”

“Yes…”

“Yes, I want to marry you, Pedri.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do!” I laugh. 

“Great, cool… Cool” he chuckles, his hand shaking as he takes the ring from the little box and takes mine. 

“You know how to do it, Pedri. You already did it once” I tease him, showing him the plastic ring on the other hand.

“I know. But this is the real deal, you know?”

“I know. And I love it.”

“Do you?” he says once the ring is on my finger, his thumb caressing my hand while still holding it.

“I do. I love it almost as much as I love you.”

“Almost?”

“Almost, yes. Because it is impossible to love anything more than I love you, Pedri.”

“I love you too, Sofía. Or should I say…” he says as he wraps one arm around my waist and leans me back like they do in movies. “Fiancée?”

“You should… fiancé” I smirk before he kisses me. “Did you hear that noise?” I whisper when we break apart.

“What?” 

“There is something… Carlos?” I call.

“Sorry, ma'am.”

“Carlos, are you crying?”

“I… I am, ma'am” he says, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his jacket. “It's just… you are getting married.”

“I am, yes” I smile, showing him the ring. 

“It's beautiful, ma'am. You look beautiful. Like, you should see your smile right now. It is the most beautiful smile I've ever seen.”

“Aww, Carlos” I say before hugging him and starting to cry too.

“I'm so happy for you, ma'am. For both of you” he says, awkwardly ending our embrace. 

“Thank you, Carlos” Pedri smiles. “We wouldn't be here if it wasn't because of you, you know? If you hadn't allowed Sofía to leave the Euros party…”

“Yeah” he chuckles. “Though I almost ruined it all when I heard your friends talking and I thought you were only interested in her because of a bet.”

“I actually think that misunderstanding is the reason why we are here” I say.

“What?”

“I don't know if without it Pedri would have been brave enough to tell me that he had had a crush on me for years” I say while giving him a teasing smile, his cheeks turning bright red. “Him being so open and honest with me just after we had met, somehow made me trust him and see that he wasn't like the other guys I had dated. That there were no secret intentions. So thank you, Carlos. And we are sorry for everything you've had to see and deal with over the years.”

“It's ok, ma'am. Just doing my job” he smiles. “Would you like to see the photos I've taken?”

“Photos? What photos?” 

“Carlos may have been our personal photographer and videographer during the night” Pedri says.

“What?”

“I wanted to remember tonight, and basically everyone in your family would kill me if there was no proof of what happened” he shrugs.

“That's… true, yes. Thank you” I say, kissing his cheek. “And thank you again, Carlos.”

“Ma'am” he replies, giving me his phone to check everything. From the sneaky photos he's taken of us smiling at each other throughout the museum, kissing or dancing together, to the video of Pedri getting on one knee and asking me to marry him. Because it happend, it was real. 

Pedri and I are getting married. 

[storiesofsvu]

Touch of Your Hand

Emily Prentiss x Alex Blake x reader warnings: language, smut, teasing, dirty talk, sexting, sending nudes, phone sex, masturbation, mommy kink, daddy kink, fingering, oral. Covers the "dirty talk/sexting" square for bingo! And yes... there are more of this collection coming. Technically a follow up to THIS piece, but can be read as a standalone.

Emily was so hellbent on getting out of work clothes and into bed she didn’t even hear the beep of the hotel lock as she tossed her pants in the direction of her go bag, letting out a happy groan when she finally took off her bra.

“Oh god!” Alex’s voice broke through the silence of the room, “I’m so sorry.” She shielded her eyes right before turning around and Emily let out a bark of a laugh.

“Would you relax.” She chuckled, picking up a tank top, “or did you forget we were naked in my bed less than twenty four hours ago?”

Alex’s cheeks tinged pink, a tingle running through her body at the memories that began to float through her brain. “I guess you’re right.” She laughed softly, turning back around to find Emily now in the tank top, the hem of it barely meeting the waistband of her panties as she dropped down onto her bed.

“I’m gonna call y/n quick.” She gestured with her phone as she leant back against the headboard and Alex stilled in her movement.

“Oh, I can… take a walk?”

“Not that kind of phone call Blake.” Emily laughed, “I’m just saying goodnight, it’ll be super quick.”

“Alright.” Alex chuckled, folding her blazer over the back of a chair before she quickly changed into pyjamas and ducked around the corner into the bathroom to brush her teeth and give Emily a bit of privacy for the phone call.

The phone rang against Emily’s ear only twice before you picked up, “Hi baby.”

“Hey. Just calling to check in, say goodnight.”

“But it’s early.” You practically whined back and she chuckled.

“It’s almost midnight in DC.” Emily replied while checking her watch.

“Yeah, I meant for you. Besides, I’m off tomorrow. I was kinda hoping for playtime.”

“Princess…” she warned, practically hearing your pouting through the phone, “didn’t you get enough last night?”

“I wanna hear you daddy.”

“I’m not alone angel...” She chuckled, her eyes following Alex as the other woman crossed through the room to the other bed.

“Fine.” You huffed, “guess I’ll just have to use my imagination.”

“You better behave…”

“I’ll try.” You giggled and Emily rolled her eyes, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now get some rest.”

“I’ll think about it.” You giggled again and Emily let out a huff.

“Goodnight.”

“Night daddy.” You purred into the phone before hanging up and Emily was left to sigh, dropping the phone back onto the bedspread as Alex let out a small chuckle.

“Sounds like someone’s toeing the line?”

“You think she wouldn’t be so needy after being used like that.”

“Poor girl probably gets lonely when you’re gone.” Alex said with a shrug, “was awfully nice of you to leave your credit card.” Emily laughed at that,

“According to the email I got she’s already racked up quite the tab.”

“Hmm.” She casually picked up her book from the bedside table, fingers sliding through the pages until she found her spot, “must be nice. Wonder if she got anything pretty.”

Emily glanced up from her phone, a brow raised at the other woman whose eyes were directed toward the book in her lap, but the small smirk on her lips told another story.

*

The low warm glow of light in the bedroom was what you preferred for taking risqué photos, and after your shopping spree and a few glasses of wine, you’d decided that was going to be your plan for the night. Hearing Emily’s voice simply spurred you on even more, wishing that she would’ve stayed on the phone longer, maybe asked what you were wearing like she normally would on longer trips out of state. When she didn’t, you simply huffed, changing into the second set of lingerie to snap a handful of photos to torment her with later down the road. You’d just changed into the third, padding across the bedroom when your phone buzzed on the bed. You glanced towards it with a curious expression on your face, as Emily had stated, it was getting late, there weren’t very many options for who would be texting you at this hour. Scooping it up you swiped open the message, it was a group chat, Emily’s name and a number you didn’t have saved but the same area code, the only message so far from Emily.

‘How was your little shopping trip?’

‘I thought you weren’t alone?’

The next message came in from the unsaved number.

‘Relax darling, mommy just wanted to see if you got anything pretty in green.’

Ah. Alex.

A sly smile on your face as you glanced down at your body, of course you’d just changed into the green set, it was as if these women had some kind of psychic powers. You quickly saved Alex’s contact in your phone, the device buzzing in your hand as you did so.

Emily:

‘Convenient we happen to be sharing a room this week, isn’t it?’

Alex:

‘I’ll say.’ 

‘Now sweet girl, would you like to show off?’

‘Yes.’ You quickly typed back, ‘just one second.’

Scrambling back onto the bed you positioned yourself to show off the full set of lingerie, practically pouting toward the camera as you took a handful of shots before switching positions and repeating the process another couple of times. Scanning through them you picked your favourite, double checking you were sending it to the right recipients before hitting send.

Emily:

‘Naughty girl, you were already doing this before I called, weren’t you?’

‘Sorry daddy. Just wanted to look pretty for you’

Alex:

‘I do think she looks rather gorgeous.’

Emily:

‘She does. As long as she asks before touching…’

‘May I?’

Emily:

‘Go ahead princess. Just remember the rule. You’re only allowed to come around one of our cocks.’

Alex:

‘And you better show us what you’re doing sweet girl. Go on, play with those pretty tits.’

You pulled the cup of the bra down, revealing your exposed chest to the camera, hands cupping at the flesh, pinching at your nipple as you threw your head back, taking a few more pictures before sending one off. Taking the bra fully off you tossed it to the side, falling back onto the bed and angled yourself into another couple of positions before sharing those pictures as well.

Emily:

‘Well you were right, green certainly does look good.’

Alex:

‘Bet you wish we were there to suck on your gorgeous tits, don’t you? Imagine the feeling of both of our mouths on you at once, would drive you wild, wouldn’t it?’

Christ.

You let out a whine, hands continuing to grope at yourself, pinching your nipples harder than before, wishing there was some way to replicate the feeling of what Alex was suggesting.

‘I do mommy, I really, really do.’

Emily:

‘Patience princess. We’ll have our way with you when we get back, don’t you worry.’

Alex:

‘Don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off you darling girl. My mouth may be busy with your tit, sucking it into my lips, biting you hard enough to leave a nice mark so you’ll think of me every time you see it until it fades. But my fingers? They want to feel you, they’ll start to explore your skin, tickling down your body until they’re sneaking under those gorgeous green panties you’ve got on. I’ll rub at your clit softly, watching the way your mouth falls open, a breathy moan leaving you as I press just a little harder. It's no surprise you’re wet already sweet girl, I know how badly you want us, I’m sure you’ve started begging by now, that pretty pussy aching to be touched, for the feeling of my fingers slipping into you while Emily holds your legs spread nice and wide. Thankfully she can keep you pinned down while my hands bring you to your peak over and over until you’re begging me to stop. Go on darling, touch that dripping cunt, I know you want to.’

Alex could feel the other woman’s eyes on her from across the hotel room, glancing up to her, “what?”

“How the fuck are you sending shit like that with a fucking straight face?”

“Figured we were just here to torture the girl, right?” She shrugged.

“I guess.” Emily huffed out a laugh, “I just didn’t expect you of all people to be that good of a sexter.” Alex laughed, turning toward her with a teasing grin.

“I just have a way with words, what can I say?”

“As a linguist, I’m not that surprised, but.. I— er .. Jesus!” She laughed again and Alex cocked a brow in her direction, her head tilting in realization as she watched the pink beginning to creep up the back of the other woman’s neck.

“Is this turning you on Agent Prentiss?”

Emily had never been more happy to hear her phone buzz, letting out a groan at the sight of your hand slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. A moment later it buzzed again, a video clip of your hand moving beneath the fabric and a breathy whine coming from your lips, “please…” Naturally, Alex was much more composed, able to pick up her phone to type out a reply before Emily had even processed your begging fully.

Alex:

‘Oh sweet girl, tell us what you want. But don’t you dare stop playing with yourself, I want to be able to hear how soaked your pussy is, want to be able to see the mess you make all over those pitiful excuse for panties.’

‘Daddy didn’t get to come last night. Need to hear her.’

Alex glanced up from her phone to catch Emily eyeing her up and she laughed, a dark gleam taking over her eyes before she typed out another message.

‘Well if both of you are alright with it I’m sure I could help out with that.’

Emily:

‘Princess, you still okay with our sharing rule?’

‘Absolutely. Yes. Please.’

You couldn’t hear it, but both of the women let out a laugh at your eagerness, exchanging a glance, Alex waiting for a nod from the other woman before she stood from her bed, crossing the tiny space in between them and standing over her.

“Give me your phone?”

Emily immediately handed it over, watching as Alex flicked through a couple of screens.

*

Your phone began to buzz against the bedspread and you let out a frustrated whine at the interruption, your body already prickling with heat, pussy fluttering around nothing.

“Hello?” You hadn’t even bothered to check who it was, at this time was either Emily or work. One would be entertaining; one would be hell.

“Put it on speaker and leave it beside your ear.” Alex’s voice, smooth as silk, came through the speaker and you quickly did as she asked.

“Yes mommy.”

“Good girl.”

“Don’t you forget princess.” Emily’s voice broke through the speaker and you could tell she was already wound up, “you don’t dare come.”

“Yes daddy. I’ll be good. I promise. Swear.”

“For someone who’s not allowed to come you’re certainly eager.” Alex taunted before turning back to the other woman, “as for you… I do think you’re a little overdressed. What do you say sweet girl, should Emily get naked? That way I can see her gorgeous tits?”

“Y-yes. Please!”

Alex nudged Emily back on the bed, crawling between her spread legs as her fingers toyed with the hem of her tank top. There was a murmur of words between them that you couldn’t fully hear, your hand continuing to lazily play with yourself before Alex tugged off the fabric, letting it fall to the bed beside them.

“So fucking pretty.” She murmured, “bet you wish you could have your mouth on them, don’t you darling?”

“Always.” You replied with a whimper.

Alex chuckled softly, her hand wrapping around Emily’s jaw, tilting it to the side so she could have full access to her neck, her lips hitting the base of her jaw and trailing their way across the porcelain skin. Emily couldn’t help but let out a quiet moan at the feeling and the sound made you clench down around nothing. Alex’s lips formed a smirk, testing the waters with a light nip at her pulse point and Emily gasped, her hand shooting up to grab at Alex’s arm before the two fell backwards into the pillows.

“So pretty all laid out for me.” Alex murmured, her hand ghosting up Emily’s stomach before cupping her tit, groping at the flesh and Emily let out another moan, one that made your entire body tingle before she directed her words to the phone. “You’re such a lucky girl darling, having all this be yours? I bet you just can’t keep your hands off daddy, can you?”

“Fuck—” Emily mustered, back arching off the bed as Alex continued to toy with her nipple while her mouth wrapped around the other side, “she really can’t. Oh god… that feels so good.”

“Daddy…” You whined through the phone, earning a chuckle from Alex as she popped off Emily’s nipple.

“You said you wanted to hear her, didn’t you sweet girl?”

“Yes..”

“Well then how about you tell me what I should do?” Her fingers pinched at Emily’s nipple again, earning another gasp, “should I just play with these gorgeous tits or should I do something else, hmm? Should I get rid of her panties? Ah… how about…” Her fingers toyed with the hem of her underwear, “I get my hands on her gorgeous pussy I’ll tell you exactly what I’m doing to her and you… you do exactly that to yourself? Be like I’m fucking you too. Would you like that?”

“Yes!”

The reply was instant and in pure unison from both Emily and you, pulling a dark chuckle from Alex who leant down to bite into the curve of Emily’s tit once more before she sat up between her legs.

“Are you still wearing your panties?” She asked.

“Mmhmm.” You replied with a whine.

“Time to take them off.” She instructed, her fingers slipping into the waistband of Emily’s underwear, tugging them down her legs and tossing them aside. “And I want picture proof.”

There was a scuffling noise on the other side of the phone and they could both hear your strained breathing as you shifted around before Emily’s phone buzzed, a picture of your legs spread wide for both of them to see.

“Good girl princess.” Emily breathed out, her head dropping back to the bed as Alex’s hands ran up her thighs, spreading her legs open.

“Such pretty pussies, both of you.” Alex murmured and Emily let out a gasp when her hand glided up her cunt, fingers twisting around to fully spread her open. “Now darling, I want you to start to fuck yourself, nice and slow, one finger for now, understand?”

“Yes mommy.”

You settled into the pillows of your bed, your hand sliding down your body, brushing over your clit before you slid one finger into your drenched cunt, letting out a soft moan as you did so.

“Good girl.” Alex praised through the phone, shooting a wicked grin down to Emily who was nearly shivering in anticipation already. A finger sunk into Emily’s heat with ease, wrapped in warm wetness immediately and Emily groaned. Alex’s finger pumped a few times, a small chuckle leaving her lips, “you hear how wet she is darling? I think we should give her more.”

“Yes!” You cried out, knowing you weren’t going to get anywhere without Emily getting off. You quickly added a finger, thrusting them deep into your cunt in a desperate search for your g-spot. You whimpered as the heel of your hand brushed against your clit, hips rocking up off the bed to meet your hand. You needed more, craved more, your hands were almost never enough.

Emily let out a gasp when Alex slipped a second digit into her, curling them perfectly within two thrusts,

“Fuck! Oh god, right there.”

“Play with your tits sweetheart.” Alex directed the command toward the phone as she leant over Emily, sucking a nipple back between her lips while her fingers continued to fuck the other woman. Emily’s breath picked up, her body vibrating under the other woman. Heat was coursing through her, pussy fluttering around Alex’s fingers while her hand tangled into Alex’s hair, holding her to her, encouraging more.

“More.. please.” You whined, one hand pinching at your chest while the other continued to thrust into you.

Alex immediately bit into Emily’s tit, adding a third finger into her cunt, moving her hand faster, resulting in a loud moan from Emily, nothing but soaked sounds leaving her pussy.

“Get the toy.” She gasped out, “oh fuck Alex…” her hand clutched at the bedspread, feeling Alex’s lips form a smirk against her skin, “the pink one that you like so much.” Her words were scattered, split up by laboured breaths, her body thriving against the bed. The two women could hear you scrambling, the sound of a drawer opening before the whir of the clit vibrator started.

“Pretend mommy’s mouth is on you sweet girl.” Alex murmured, her mouth kissing down Emily’s body while her fingers continued their torture and Emily pulsed around her, hips rocking up.

“Oh god!” You gasped as the toy hit your swollen nub, “daddy…need.. need to hear you…”

“Shit!” Emily couldn’t help the outburst when Alex’s lips wrapped around her clit, sucking it into her mouth for her tongue to trace patterns on. “Oh god you’re good at that…”

Alex simply chuckled into her, her fingers curling quicker, pressing into the spongey spot inside her drenched walls while her mouth continued to torment her. Emily tasted divine and Alex almost wished she had more time to devour her, though she knew that there was a high chance something like this would happen again. Her tongue lapped out lower, smearing the other women’s juices across her cunt, truly getting a taste of her and Emily let out a whine at the stilling of her fingers.

“Patience.” She murmured into her pussy, “just want to make you feel good.”

“S— so good…” She moaned back, her hand clutching at the back of Alex’s head. Pleasure was shooting through her, building lower and lower in her gut as fire prickled right under her skin. She knew she was close and she knew Alex could tell. Alex moaned into her, the vibrations making Em’s thighs shake before she licked upwards, her fingers plunging back into her and Emily cried out, “please! Pl- don’t… don’t stop…”

“Daddy…”

Your whine came through the phone right by Emily’s ear and the sounds of you moaning were just the perfect amount to spur her on. Your little whines and whimpers that you made when you were so fucking needy and desperate to come, the ones usually swallowed by her lips, fingers or cock. The little sounds you made when you needed more, wanted it harder, faster, or to be stuffed so full you’d feel it for a week.

Your fingers moved faster, pumping harder with each thrust and you clicked up the speed on the vibrator held to your clit. Your body was trembling, coated in a sheen of sweat as you climbed higher and higher to your peak, pussy clenching down around your curling fingers. Through the phone you could hear Emily getting louder as she got closer, her vocabulary became more diminished, only broken swears and gasping moans escaping her lips as Alex fucked her with skill. Your eyes scrunched shut as you imagined her, picturing just how gorgeous she would look all spread out and needy for Alex, chest heaving as she attempts to catch her breath. You could scarcely make out Alex’s voice, knowing her mouth was likely rather occupied, urging Emily on, praising her gently, pulling more and more from the other woman with each pump of her fingers.

“I know you’re close.” She purred, “come for me…”

You let out a moan at Alex’s words, the sopping sounds echoing through the phone that you knew were coming from Emily’s pussy and your juices were suddenly dripping down your wrist as your body trembled.

Alex’s mouth latched back around Emily’s clit, sucking hard right as her fingers crooked into the spongey spot inside her and Emily shuddered, her hand shooting to her mouth to muffle her cries as her orgasm washed over her. Her hips jolted up off the bed, pleasure soared through her entire body, tingling down to the tips of her fingers. Alex softly kissed her throbbing clit, pulling a whine from the other woman before her fingers began to slow their pace, fucking Emily through her orgasm. When she was sure her cunt had stopped pulsing around her fingers she slipped them out, sitting up on her knees to suck them clean.

“Holy shit…” Emily muttered and Alex chuckled.

“Feeling better?”

“So fucking much.” She laughed, panting through her words, melting deeper into the bed at the feeling of Alex softly rubbing at her legs, pulling her back down to earth. Emily rolled her head toward the phone, “princess?”

“Yes daddy?” Came the quiet whine and she realized you’d turned the toy off, nothing but the sound of your breathing coming through the speaker.

“You alright?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. You did so good for us, you hear me?”

“Such a sweet girl.” Alex purred, “such pretty pictures.”

“I want you to go get a glass of water,” Emily started, slowly still catching her breath, “use that lavender sleep spray you like so much, you need to rest up, okay?”

“Mmhmm.” They could hear your slight groan as you moved from the bed, the sounds of you padding through the house before the sound of you crawling back into bed, stifling a yawn as you did so.

“You tired darling?”

“Yeah.” You yawned once again.

“Shouldn’t stay up so late then.” Alex chided.

“Worth it.” You replied with a small laugh, “thank you for taking care of daddy.”

“Of course sweetheart.”

“Now you get some sleep.” Emily instructed.

“G’night.” You mumbled, yawning once more, causing the other women to chuckle again before there was a click and you were burrowing into the pillows, asleep almost instantly.

“You alright?” Alex asked, her hand still stroking up and down Emily’s leg.

“This is the most relaxed I’ve been on a case in my life.” She laughed, thanking Alex when she shifted on the bed, tossing her the discarded tank top and panties before moving back to the other bed.

“You know she broke a rule, right?”

“Hmm?” She glanced up as she tugged the tank back on and Alex nodded toward the phone.

“You may have been a little…. distracted.” Alex smirked, “but she definitely came… and without even thinking about asking. Looks like you’ve got some punishments to dole out when you get home.”

“You’re the one who caught her, it’s only fair if you get to join in too.”

“Anything you’ve got in mind?” Alex asked, her eyes darkening already.

A sly grin overtook Emily’s lips as a dark chuckle broke free from the other woman, “Oh I’m sure I can think of a few…”

_____________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry @daddy-heather-dunbar @aliensaurusrex @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @kdaghay @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @awolfcsworld @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @midnight-sapphic @scorpsik @prentiss-theorem @unsubologyy @strongsassysexysloane @svushots @overtrred28 @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @heidss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @aws-l @alexusonfire

[puppiesandnightlock]

LINK: Cause you're a nightmare that i've not been dreaming of

Summary: It's all come down to this one event. Their friends have planned out the perfect moment and all Damian and Jon need to do is say the words. Easy as pie.

ft. Jason and Roy as chaperones, road trips, Ferris wheels, and some really cheesy fireworks confessions

“Alright, Squirts, listen up, for those of you who don't know me, my name is Jason and that’s Roy.”

Jason was turned around in the driver's seat, going over introductions. The man next to him had a trucker cap on and was wearing a dark red tank top, showing off the full sleeve of tattoos running up his right arm. 

He waved, propping his chin up next to the headrest on the passenger’s side. “I’m going to do a quick roll call, just to make sure we are not missing anyone. Once we get that, we’re good to go.”

A cheer went up, and settled quickly as Jason began naming people. Damian offered an earbud to Jon, who took it, settling back and shutting his eyes.

Skylar and Akira were scribbling onto the sketchbooks they’d brought, Kathy and Maya were behind them, dictating what they thought should go on it. Colin was avidly asking questions to the driver's seat.

“We’ve got a four hour drive, and we’re only making two pit stops, this is the last offer i’m making before i start the car.” 

No one got up and the car started the radio being flicked on and soft music filling the car as they started on their journey.

Within thirty minutes, Jon had conked out against Damian’s shoulder, still with the shared earbud in one ear, the other in Damian’s. The boy himself was half asleep, head leaning on the glass of the window. Colin had propped his phone up and was playing a random downloaded movie, Akira and Skylar sharing a random game of tic-tac-toe. 

After the second hour and a half, they were beginning to get rowdy. Jon was arguing with Akira about some inane topic that was probably not legal, Colin was playing keep away with Damian’s phone and backpack, Maya was hissing at them all to shut up as Kathy had fallen asleep in the midst of their chaos somehow.

The car screeched to an abrupt halt and they all yelped, grabbing onto another or a part of the car. Roy turned to the back, Jason tapping his fingers impatient on the steering wheel. 

“Alright, that’s much better. Colin, give the bat brat his stuff back, Jon and Akira, both of you are wrong, it’s much easier to do the third option. Keep the noise to the minimum if you would all like to stay alive on this trip, because my husband is much less nice than he seems, contrary to appearances.”

“Yes sir.” Six kids chorused back at him. 

“Not a brat.” Damian grumbled. 

“Kind of are.” Jon poked his cheek. “What’s with the Bat part though?”

From the front of the car, Jason snorted. “Oh boy, now that’s a nice story.”

��Jason, please don’t-”

“You all know Batman, right?”

They all nodded, the tips of Damian’s ears burning red and he attempted to hide himself in Jon’s shoulder.

“Baby Damian was obsessed with anything Batman, for some unknown reason. Every single one of his toddler pictures have him in some kind of Bat reference, and he had this little bat hoodie with ears he’d wear all the time, and put the hood up and would say “I’m the Bat!” in this tiny little squeaky voice.”

The car had gone up in laughter, and Jon had put an arm around Damian, whose face was now burning in embarrassment. 

“Shut up, oh my god.” The plea was muffled, and his older brother paid absolutely no attention to it, continuing on.

“Went on until he was maybe eight, and then he got back into it because of a show that would play on cartoon network? And I don’t think it’s ever returned to that level but there is no one in this family who does not call him a nickname without adding the bat.”

“That’s adorable .” Jon said, Damian groaning and attempting to disappear. Skylar agreed with the sentiment, Colin, Akira, and Maya attempting to quell their laughter. Kathy was sneakily snapping a picture of Jon and Damian in their position, since the words that accompanied  had been less than platonic.

It tapered off into a quieter buzz, most of them being occupied by a phone balancing on the drivers headrest and playing a random movie.

By the time they arrived at the Brandens’, all of them were either sleeping or half-asleep. Before Jason could stop the car and make the announcement, Maya hissed ”Wait!” silently and urgently.

In the backseat, Jon and Damian were curled into each other, Damian on Jon’s shoulder and Jon’s head on top of his, hands loosely intertwined.

”shit, SHIT, someone take pictures!!” Six phones were promptly whipped out, all taking care to turn off the flash and taking pictures from different angles. 

“Send all of those to me,” Jason instructed, turning off the car. At the motion, they stirred, everyone in the car whipping around to give some sense of normalcy as if they had not all been cooing over them.

“Oh.” Jon sprang away from him. “Sorry, sorry, did I crush you?”

“I’m not as weak as you innately believe me to be.” Damian grumbled, ears flushed pink as he looked out the window, their hands still resting together. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“oKay, on that note, we’ve arrived. Please disembark from the vehicle in an orderly fashion, and do not slam any of the doors or you will have a very unpleasant return.” Roy got out first, opening the driver’s seat door for a very pleased looking Jason.

They clambered over each other to get out, sighing dramatically as they all stepped out. “Freedom!” Colin shouted, jumping up and down a few times.

“My legs went numb.” Akira muttered, holding onto the side of the car. Skylar patted their arm sympathetically, backpack jangling.

“This is pretty big.” Maya looked at the surrounding farmland appreciatively. “How much of this is your folks?” 

“Bit farther down, I'll take you by the boundary line sometime, there’s a nice little place me ‘n Jon would go play as kids.” Kathy pointed to a place in the unseeable distance, coming a bit closer to her.

“That sounds nice.” Maya said, trailing off into a silence until Jon came running out of the car and slinging an arm around Kathy’s neck.

“Ooh, i have missed this place. Our treehouse still up?” 

“All of our hideouts are alive and kickin’.” Kathy said, “You should take your boy down to one of them sometime.”

Jon looked around, before dipping his head down and mumbling, “Not my boy.”

“Not yet .” Kathy poked him in the stomach, and as he doubled over, ruffled his hair, dashing off with a laugh.

“HEY!” He took off after her, the two of them laughing. Damian came up besides Maya, watching them chase each other.

“You know, I don't think I've really seen him act like this.” Maya remarked. Damian only smiled, mind flooding with flicks of moments and the sound of childlike laughter.

“It’s not something he had much reason to be like, I suppose.”

“It’s cute.” She nudged him. “Puppy-like.You like puppies, don’t you?”

“It is… endearing. ” The last part was much quieter. “It feels wrong. But right, at the same time. The feeling is…new, yet curious. And not entirely unpleasant.”

“You two will figure it out.” Maya smiled, pushing his shoulder a bit. “I’m gonna go and get ready, we’re going out to the fair today.”

“Okay.” He brushed his hair back, watching his small group of friends, eyes trailing after Jon’s form, his laughter keeping the soft smile on his lips. 

“You know, I think we have a history of this kind of thing.” A voice came from behind him, wiping the smile off of his face in place of a scowl. 

Jason came up behind him, Roy playfully putting the hat he was wearing onto Damian's head. 

Stupid older brothers.

“So I heard.” Damian drawled, turning to look pointedly at the both of them. “Tutoring, boy on the wrong path and a nerd. Except I was just better, not a nerd.”

“Fuck you, i was a cool nerd.” Jason crossed his arms. “Had an A in P.E. and everything.”

“You were also a scrawny little shit who carried books everywhere, had glasses for a short amount of time and could quote Jane Austen at the drop of a hat.” Roy set his chin on Jason’s shoulder. “Sorry, babe.”

“Well, you married this nerd.” Jason sniffed, before turning to Damian. “ You were like four, you can't tell me shit.”

Damian scowled. “You’ve simply come along to antagonize me, haven’t you?”

“That, to intimidate your friends and future boyfriend, and because ask yourself, would any of them have been any better?”

“Richard would have.” 

“Dickhead and Wallance would have played showtunes the whole time, been sickeningly in love, and would have shown all of your baby pictures and embarrassing stories within the first five minutes of the drive, especially if he saw you and Jon.”

“Whatever.” He huffed. “Will you both be escorting us to the fairgrounds?”

“Yeah, and we’re leaving in thirty minutes, so change if you want to, baby bat.” Jason took the hat off and ruffled his hair, causing Damian to squawk and swat at him, before glaring at them both and leaving.

They all met back up in front of the car, dressed in a new pair of clothes and eager. It was about 12:30 by the time that they managed to make it to the grounds, seeing as they’d left early in the morning.

“Okay, ground rules before I unlock this car.” Jason and Roy turned around, and everyone but Damian snapped to attention. 

“You have our numbers, I have yours, and if all else fails, you have a Damian. I don’t expect you to actually stay with us, but please try to stick together, if not a buddy system or something. Try not to get banned, maimed, or sick within the first four hours.”

He turned off the car and grinned. “Oh yeah, and have fun.”

That startled a cheer from them, and the doors unlocked, everyone filing out of the car. They elected to stick together as one big group until they found something that would separate them, Jason and Roy following behind before stopping at a concession stand and losing sight of them.

“Okay, so Colin, Kathy and I are gonna go check out the roller coasters,” Maya said. “Akira and Skylar are at the booths and Damian and Jon…”

“Are playing the games.” Jon finished.

“And I’m going to kick your ass, Kent.” Damian smirked.

“I’d like to see you try.” Jon shot back. Colin and Akira mimed gagging, the other three rolling their eyes.

“Take your weird flirting away from here, go, shoo.” Kathy pushed them away, both boys flushing as her words caught up to them.

As they left, their hands swung between them, just barely touching. They all shared a looked, the thought of absolutely hopeless running through their minds.

“I can't take this anymore.” Maya sighed. “I give, what time are those fireworks?”

This was driving them both insane . Jon glanced down, Damian’s hand brushing up against his for the millionth time. He wanted to reach out and grab it, but how would the other react?

He’d done it before, but now it felt different . He wasn’t leading him anywhere, and he wasn't gonna do the platonic hand holding thing he and Kathy had researched in middle school.

His eye caught on a shooting game, and grinned. There we go, he could challenge Damian, they’d chill, and bam, awkwardness diffused. 

“Hey, D, betcha I can get a higher score.” He pointed to the game, watching as Damian’s gaze went directly to the plush puppy hanging on the side of the booth.

Perfect.

“You’re on, Kent.” 

They raced to the game, slapping down their payment. The worker at the booth seemed rather amused by their playfulness, starting up the game.

“What the hell?” Jon squeaked as Damian began shooting with an insane accuracy, looking over to the side to grin, still getting the target.

“This is unfair !” He pouted. Plan foiled . 

“Tough luck, J.” Damian pointed to the plush he wanted, shoving it at Jon. “Carry. Let’s go find another thing for me to kick your ass at.”

He huffed, accepting it anyways. The booth worker laughed, shaking their head. “Wow, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you’re whipped.”

Jon sighed wistfully. “If only he knew that, too.”

He chased after Damian, the both of them challenging each other to various games. Jon managed to win a small kitten, presenting it to Damian, who looked away laughing.

“I’ve already won several, Jon. I don’t think you should add more.”

“You should win something for me, then.” He said, half playing. “Then you'll have less.”

“Okay.” Damian looked surprisingly serious, taking his hand and pulling him down the aisle. “Your wish is my command, my Prince.”

Jon flushed at the sincerity, giddy at the hand-holding. “Would this make you my Knight?”

“I suppose I would.” 

“Then, onwards, brave Knight, and pick your prince the most delightful of plushes.”

After a few minutes, Jon had a white puppy plush that he affectionately named Krypto. They fell back into the silence, dropping off the rest of the plushies at the car, before looking at the sky.

“It’s sunset. The fireworks will be starting soon. We should probably find the others.” Jon said, the puppy plush still under one arm. The kitten he’d won for Damian was peeking out of the bag the other boy had over one shoulder.

“Probably.” Damian threaded his fingers with Jon’s, swinging them idly between them. It had seemed completely natural, and suddenly, something clicked.

He needed to do something about this, and he needed to do something about it now. It was terrifying, the very thought, but if he really thought about it, nothing they’d done for weeks, months by now, really qualified as strictly platonic. 

Damian was blunt, unclear with his emotions, and a jumbled mess on the inside of his cool, put together and prickly persona. 

He could do this. Anxiety would not best him.

They met up in front of a picnic bench by the ferris wheel, the sun dipping deeper and the dark night coming to overtake it.

“All of you gremlins accounted for?” Roy asked, Jason besides him as they shared cotton candy.

“Yes sir!” Akira and Skylar had a large bag of kettle corn between them, Colin sneaking handfuls every few minutes.

“You guys empty every booth or what?” Maya grinned, Kathy poking her in the side to subtly motion to their intertwined hands.

“Dami here kicked my ass in almost everything.” Jon grumbled.

“Could have warned you against that.” Jason grinned, also taking note. “Anything interesting happen? Life changing developments we should know?”

“No.” Damian scowled, following his gaze and attempting to hide their joined hands. “What are we doing now?”

“Well, I think the ferris wheel is still open. We could catch that before the fireworks begin,” Colin began, everyone catching on.

“Yeah, sounds like fun!”

“You two should go ahead of us,” 

Damian and Jon were ushered onto a cart, and strapped in before they could say anything, being shot thumbs up and teasing grins. 

“What the hell?” Jon squawked as they were lifted into the air. “Jesus Christ, you swear the world was going to end if we didn’t get on this thing.”

“We’re friends with imbeciles.”

“Oh, have I been elevated to not-an-imbecile?” 

“Ugh.”

Damian shoved him playfully, and the silence settled in. Suddenly, they were much more aware of the atmosphere, high up on a creaky metal wheel, spinning them into the darkening night sky.

“The stars are nice. You can’t see them this clearly from the city.” He said quietly. Their hands found each other again, and tentatively, Jon leaned his head on Damian’s shoulder. 

“I’ll bring you down here again, we can go stargazing and you can tell me your smart people stuff.”

“It’s basic astronomy, Jon.”

“There are a bunch of things that I don't have the patience to memorize.”

Damian laughed, resting his head on Jon’s. “Hey, Dami?”

Jon’s voice came in a shaky whisper, his hand growing clammy. This had been building all day, and Jon was sure he’d explode if he didn’t say something soon.

“Yeah?”

“Gotta tell you something.”

Damian lifted his head up, and bit his lip. “I have something to say to you as well.”

“You can go first.” Jon squeaked, looking down and suddenly finding the railing of the cart extremely fascinating.

“Wouldn’t you prefer to go?” the pitch of Damian’s voice began rising and he coughed, willing it back down. “You began, of course.” 

Shit.

“Ah, um, okay.” Jon breathed in. “So, we’re like, friends, right? And uh, gonna be real, at first, I don’t think we like each other much? Well, i mean, i definitely liked you, or like, the look of you which explains a lot when we think about cause holy shit i was a douche-”

Damian’s quiet laughter startled him from his ramblings, and with pink cheeks he looked up, seeing the light of the ride shine on his face, ears tinged pink. 

“You are…very cute.” 

Jon made a noise that in any other situation, would have severely wounded his pride, but right now the words were playing on repeat in his mind. 

“That-that’s not fair!” He whined, taking his hand from Damian’s to use both to cover his burning face. “You can’t do this to me!”

“I think I can.” Damian whispered into his ear. “Might I pick up where you left off?”

Jon only nodded, still hiding his face in his hands. Damian shook his head, just slightly, and shut his eyes. 

Okay. Don’t chicken out, Wayne. You’ve been waiting. You can do this.

“Hm. You were correct, with your earlier statements. We did not like each other very much. But we’re friends now, and every new thing that I find out about you draws me closer. A bit back, I believe that my affections may have begun to stretch a bit further than, say, strictly platonic.”

He paused, exhaling and attempting to quell his thoughts in a way that made sense. Jon lifted his face from his hands, eyes wide and hopeful.

Jon was dreaming, right? Was this some kind of dream?

"Judging by your poorly thought out speech, I was wondering if you might return the sentiments. Of course, it's perfectly acceptable if you don’t, i do not wish to force you into something or make you feel obligated-"

He was the one rambling now, but for the love of all that was holy, Damian could not shut himself up . He had one hand rubbing the back of his neck, the other still resting in his lap. The ride came to a stop at that moment, a whistling noise signaling the start of the fireworks began sounding. They were at the top, swinging a bit.

Jon grabbed his free hand, giving an affectionate, “Damian, shut up .”

Damian clicked his jaw shut and Jon cupped his face with his other hand. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Okay.” he whispered, shutting his eyes. Their lips met as the night sky burst into an array of color, hand in hand. Damian’s arm went around Jon’s neck, and his hand dropped to the smaller boy’s waist, bringing them closer together.

It was clearly inexperienced, but as they broke apart, stupid grins on their faces, that couldn’t have mattered more.

Jon leaned down, forehead resting on Damian’s, the sky still exploding behind them as the wheel cracked, signaling their movement.

“If that wasn’t clear, I really like you.”

“I ‘really like’ you too.” Damian hesitantly leaned up, pressing his lips to Jon’s again in a chaste kiss, pulling away and covering his mouth, quiet laughter escaping him.

Jon caught it, pulling it away from his face and into his own. “I keep telling you to stop doing that; it’s adorable and you shouldn’t hide it.”

Damian huffed, looking away but squeezing his hand gently. They got off the ride, walking towards the hill where the rest of their friends and Damian’s family were seated, gasping over the fireworks. They came up behind them, quiet enough not to disturb them. Jason noticed them, however, sending a subtle wink and smirk their way.

They were all seated under a tree, and Jon leaned against it, sitting down and opening his arms. Domain leaned back against his chest, Jon’s folded hands resting on Damian's stomach as the show went on. 

Once it began winding down, the others took notice of their presence, and their positioning. Upon asking the question, Damian pulled Jon down by the collar of his tshirt and kissed him, letting go just as quick. 

A cheer came up between all of them, whoops and jeers being thrown playfully at them. “Operation Damijon is a success!” 

The two chose to ignore that last statement, settling into each other. They had their friends, each other, and a blossoming relationship.

Really, what more could they ask for?

[joysmercer]

post-season 3

Terri will freely admit that she wasn’t overly enthusiastic about her daughter suddenly deciding (with less than a month’s notice) to spend two weeks of summer at a camp run by her boyfriend and otherwise minimal adult supervision. Yes, a lot of it was because she (selfishly) wanted her daughter to spend that time with her after not being together for half a year, but she was also concerned on a more general level: across the country with no cell phones? The summer before her junior year? Terri would much rather she stay home, focus on SAT prep if anything, and prepare for her future—not go to some theatre workshop where she’s unlikely to learn anything of value. 

It did help to find out that Gina has been cast as the lead in the first-ever stage production of a wildly popular Disney movie and will also be starring in the associated documentary. This is a novel experience, can go on her college apps and résumé, and really, who is she to judge when all expenses are paid in exchange for signing a few release forms? 

Still, she misses the days she could hear about each rehearsal straight from the source instead of random teasers dropped on the Disney+ twitter account, and she especially hates that she has to work and miss Gina’s big debut. By the time intermission is called on the livestream, Terri (ever-so-grateful for the weekend off) is already en-route to California. 

Terri pulls into the Shallow Lake parking lot and spots Gina immediately among the throng of campers checking out and saying their goodbyes. She’s grown at least an inch, Terri realizes with a jolt. Gina is nearly seventeen now, on the brink of adulthood, and the way she’s carrying herself now demonstrates a demeanor entirely different from the teenager she’d dropped off at MSY just a few months ago. Why does time always move so fast with these kids? 

Gina whips around as soon as Terri slams the car door shut, as if she was able to hear it from all the way across the yard, letting out a loud squeal of delight that sends Terri’s heart melting before launching herself straight into her mother’s arms. Terri is instantly reminded of a five-year-old Gina doing the exact same thing at kindergarten pickup.

“Hey, sweet pea,” she whispers, returning her daughter’s tight hug. Some things never change. 

“Mom? What are you even doing here? I thought you were closing on the house? Oh my god, I had no idea—"

“I finished all that yesterday, and since I have a free weekend, I thought we could take a mother-daughter road-trip back home – just like old times.” While their last few moves had been too far apart to drive, she and Gina used to spent nearly every school holiday or long weekend transporting their lives across state lines while eating their fill of fast food and pancakes, touring random obscure roadside attractions, and making some of their fondest memories. 

Gina beams. “I’d love that,” she says, bouncing on her heels excitedly. “I finished packing, actually, so I just need to take care of one thing real quick and we can head out.”

Then she smiles big and wide again, an expression she saves for truly special occasions (like, apparently, 10 hours with her mother in a car), and quickly kisses Terri’s cheek. “Love you, mommy. Be back in a bit.” 

Gina sprints off in the direction of, according to a nearby sign, a “Yurt Locker”. Strange name, Terri thinks. She doesn’t have a chance muse on it (or what the hell it even means) further, though, because someone bellows GENEVIEVE MARIE! so loudly that both Gina and Terri, now at least 20 feet apart, jump at the sound. 

The source of the voice appears a second later—or at least Terri assumes that’s who the curly-haired boy with a shit-eating grin on his face now standing in front of Gina is, given her daughter’s currently crossed arms, flushed cheeks, and, surprisingly, equally playful smile. Terri eyes the boy curiously. Gina doesn’t give out her full name to just anyone and rarely allows anyone to use it (Terri can’t remember the last time she herself even said the word Genevieve, let alone added her middle name to the mix). But Gina seems entirely unfazed now, as if having this boy yell it for all to hear is a regular occurrence. Who is he?

Then she notices the acoustic guitar he’s clutching, and it hits her. Kristoff: Ricky Bowen.

It had been a while since Gina had mentioned Ricky in their weekly FaceTimes. His name had only ever come up in relation to Ashlen’s role of Belle in the spring musical, and even then, it was mostly to complain about his two left feet. If it weren’t for a panicked text conversation on Valentine’s Day (Gina’s teddy bear got lost in transit, long story), Terri would have entirely forgotten about him.

Clearly, not only has his dancing greatly improved this summer (if yesterday was any evidence), but so has his friendship with her daughter.  

Ricky pulls out a set of keys and gestures to the parking lot, fanning his face with his free hand, and that’s when Terri realizes he’s wearing…a pink-and-blue snowsuit. Gina laughs and rolls her eyes at him, clearly teasing him about his ridiculous attire for an LA summer, but when he says something else, Gina suddenly shakes her head, pointing straight at Terri. 

Terri gives a small wave to the kids, and Ricky immediately waves back excitedly.  Okay, then. 

Turning back to Gina, Ricky says something else and Gina smiles shyly and nods. Terri watches as the pair hugs goodbye, a motion that is simultaneously so natural neither think twice about it—falling into a tight embrace that nearly lifts Gina off the ground—but so awkward when they separate that Terri can feel the tension from all the way over here. Okay, then, indeed. 

Ricky meanders toward the bright orange bug almost double-parked in the last slot of the lot. Terri recognizes the car from her driveway last fall – but also remembers Gina mentioning that Ashlen’s boyfriend also drives an orange bug that the three of them and EJ would carpool to school in, leaving Terri to wonder which possibility is weirder: that Ricky and his friend got matching ugly vehicles together, or that Ricky transported his friend’s car across state lines for two weeks and his friend actually agreed to it. 

There isn’t much she knows about Ricky Bowen, actually, except that he has an apparent penchant for nabbing lead roles out from under everyone else’s noses and—surprisingly—actually justifying those casting choices. Gina’s scene partners are often so dry she has to work double-time to make the chemistry believable. Last night, however, Ricky showed a level of talent that nearly matched her own daughter’s in the way he was able to hold the audience captive even without Gina on stage with him. There was one solo of his in particular that had actually caught Terri’s attention (she had taken the opportunity to answer some emails) when, right at the end, he suddenly directed the final line of the song away from the audience and into the wings: you’re what I know about love, he sang, straight to Ana. Straight to Gina. It was not only a genius move but one she doubted he was directed to do—he must have come up with it himself. 

Still, something about him sets Terri on edge. Questionable decisions (seriously, snowsuit?) aside, he has the demeanor of a class clown, someone who stays while it’s fun but bolts when things get hard. It makes Terri uneasy, especially since it’s clear that this is someone Gina cares deeply about. 

“Sorry about that.” Gina’s back, suitcases in hand, shaking Terri out of her reverie. “I had to tell Ricky I didn’t need a ride first.” 

“Oh, I thought EJ was giving you a ride home,” Terri says, taking one of the suitcases from Gina. 

A tense silence. “Mom, I told you we broke up, remember?” 

“I know, sweetheart,” Terri quickly assures her. Gina had called early yesterday morning from Kourtney’s phone, relating the news with a quick “it was a long time coming, we’re still friends, prom was super fun otherwise, see you soon” and hanging up before Terri could even get an I’m sorry out. “I just assumed you’d keep the same arrangement since Ashlen and your other friends are there, too.” She winces. “I see how silly that sounds out loud, though.” 

“Yeah.” More silence. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Terri asks gently. 

Gina shakes her head no emphatically. “I told you, it wasn’t really a surprise. I’m fine.”

“Okay, okay, got the hint.” Terri laughs, sighing internally with relief when Gina gives her a (albeit watery) smile. She opens the car trunk and shoves the suitcase inside.

“So, why was Ricky wearing a snowsuit?” Terri asks as they settle in and buckle up, unable to keep the question to herself any longer. 

“Oh, he wasn’t supposed to be at camp at all, and showed up without a ton of clothes, so he mostly borrowed from others I think, and got pizza all over his laundry yesterday, too.” she giggles slightly, then continues, “plus the guys dumped ice water on themselves last night and he put is wet towel on top of his open suitcase, like an idiot.” She says all this with the nonchalance of someone explaining 1+1=2, not…whatever she just said about sudden enrollment, pizza, and ice water. 

“That doesn’t explain the snowsuit,” Terri says, now even more confused. 

“Rumor has it he was supposed to go skiing with his ex? he didn’t say, though." Gina shrugs. 

“that girl Jamie’s working with?” 

“No.” Gina doesn’t elaborate. 

“Well, regardless, he’s very talented,” Terri supplies. “I did enjoy that one ballad of his yesterday, the one with the guitar and lights.” 

“Oh.” Gina smiles softly, almost to herself. “I liked that one too.” 

Terri’s stomach twists, like they’re about to go barreling off a cliff they can’t see and can’t stop. 

“Is he doing the fall musical as well?”

“I dunno. Probably. It’s his senior year, he won’t have many more chances.” 

“I didn’t realize he’s a year ahead of you,” Terri says, surprised. “How are his college apps coming along?”

“Mom,” Gina groans. “It’s literally summer vacation, and believe it or not, I didn’t ask. He probably hasn’t even started thinking about them yet.” 

“Fair,” Terri says, although, internally, she disagrees. if Ricky were truly serious about his future, he would have had his summer plans set in place long ago, and a solid school list by now. 

I can tell you like him, Gigi, she thinks. And then, suddenly, I wish you didn’t. 

It’s a strange thought, and a foreign one—Gina has yet to make a friend that Terri straight-up disapproves of.  What Ricky does with his life is really none of her business, and Gina’s a smart girl—she won’t go rushing into poor decisions even if her friends are walking bundles of chaos. Plus, from the little she’s seen, it’s clear he cares about Gina, too. Maybe as much as she does him. 

But Gina in a relationship is…different. Gina in a relationship was more carefree, a little less focused. She begged to go to prom despite having an exam the next Monday, she shifted her summer plans around for a camp she showed no interest in before, and she prioritized FaceTimes and texting every night over reading or sleeping. there were no lasting negative repercussions for any of this, but if there was ever a time for Gina to conserve her extra energy for something worthwhile, it’s now. 

Ricky a good friend, Terri decides. As friends, he keeps her grounded—but anything more than that? She’s just not sure. 

[bonesandthebees]

No Rose asks yet, but I did promise a life update. So here it is:

- work is kinda rough right now. Like it feels like it’s less busy than it was a few weeks ago, but I just notice I’m making more mistakes due to being tired. Not like big fuck-ups or anything, but just enough to be annoyed at having to find a solution.

- similarly, general mood was down. I think everyone needed a break, so I hope things will be better in 2 weeks. But like it’s the last stretch of the school year. So worst case scenario I just have to do a countdown. I am hopeful that things are improving. I just think the general state of the world is also affecting the atmosphere.

- I got an electrical bike! So I now cycle to work. Which doesn’t really gain me that much more time compared to taking the bus, BUT! It does give me more flexibility since I’m not depended on departing hours. Also I am free from the constant delays, which did up travel time by at least 5 min everyday, but more like 10 or 20.

- Also! I did not expect to like cycling so much. I was so apprehensive because I’ve always preferred walking, but it’s just the best option I have. I only ever liked cycling when in a big group (like our school trip to Amsterdam where we spend 3 days cycling everywhere and I did similar distances I do now daily on just a regular bike). I don’t listen to music either (gotta stay aware of your surroundings), but it’s just nice and peaceful when you get away from the main roads.

- I am doing well on my reading challenge! I wanna say I’m at 3 books now. Cuz I finished one I started in December. Then read Fallen Night. Then Animal Farm. And Death and the penguin a few days ago, which I had started, I think 2 years ago and just never finished (and going back for that was not worth it, past me was right for DNFing).

- which brings me to: I have started ‘Project Hail Mary’! I both hate that I do sorta understand the science, but also not really understand the science. Like I instantly got the physics in the first chapter and now I have war flashbacks to high school (physics is the only exam I ever failed, and I suck at French). I’ve only read 3 chapters (started today), but I am intrigued. And I like the format. The humour with the parentheses reminds me of the Princess Bride.

- Also, I did my last Waterstones haul right before Sunrise on the Reaping came out (bad timing on my part), and since I bought 5 books that time (more than my regular 3) I’ve decided I don’t get to buy books until summer. Which means I am dodging spoilers everywhere. I had to block the ‘hunger games’ tags because Eily (<3) reading it.

- I’m going away next week for some peace and quiet (and reading time), so I hope to have Rose asks done by then, but we’ll see. I’m taking a lot of time for all my non-online/digital hobbies, which is fun, but I do miss all my online friends

Anyway, hope everyone is doing well! Have a nice day, Bee! I hope all the life planning isn’t too exhausting.

-🌲

spruceeeeee

oh that's so annoying. when you know exactly why you're making so many more mistakes and they aren't horrible but you still have to spend time to fix them and it's because you're tired and making more work to do for yourself only makes you more tired but there's nothing you can do about it. vicious cycle right there :( and yeah I'm sure the state of the world isn't helping either

oooo that's so nice that you can bike to work! it's probably also a great way to get some fresh air before you start your day and after you end it. I personally am really bad at cycling so even though I technically know how to ride a bike, I never really do it especially not on roads. you're so brave for that spruce

3 books so far that's great!! it can be so difficult to make time to read these days so that's fantastic that you've gotten a huge book like adofn nailed already. and YES project hail mary is so fun I'm so glad you're enjoying it so far. andy weir is so good at writing humor and likeable protagonists. the science is really fascinating too, especially as you get into the more fantastical scientific concepts.

oh godspeed with avoiding the sotr spoilers. that's a big part of why I started reading it the day it came out. I didn't want to get spoiled for anything so I just had to read it as fast as possible because I'm really bad at avoiding spoilers for things.

it's important to do irl hobbies! it helps keep your brain healthy!

and ty ty the life planning is kind of exhausting especially with the current economic climate right now but my stuff should all work out regardless thankfully

[crow-raven-crow]

𝟐𝟎 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

Tagged by @weemssapphic - thank you, dovey 🤍

𝟏. 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑?

16.. I cross-post everything, but i also just started like three months ago now SO

𝟐. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐎𝟑 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭?

79,333 (i've been seeing this damn angel number everywhere)

𝟑. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫?

Mostly Wednesday right now. I'm getting into Game of Thrones and there are Resident Evil 8 fics in the works ! I want to get into RE8 writing more because I miss our Lady Dimitrescu ;)

𝟒. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝟓 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐤𝐮𝐝𝐨𝐬?

The Protector (series)

I Know You Will.. (lyric fic)

Slow Down, I'm Not Going Anywhere

I'd Hate To Repeat Myself

Monser (series)

𝟓. 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬? 𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭?

Yes! I try to respond to every comment I get on all platforms. I remember when I would comment on works before I started posting my own. It would feel so cool when I got to talk to the writer/artist about the work or anything to do with their process. It feels amazing being on the other side of that now. Like someone read something I did or saw something I drew and took the time out of their day to say something about it.. It's crazy to me and keeps me eternally grateful

𝟔. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠?

Monster Ch.3 - Retrograde (~4.1k words) - THIS CHAPTER HURT LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER DUDE. The flashbacks, the hopelessness, the deep emptiness that I felt while writing everything in Larissa's point of view literally made me cry. This whole series is just a miserable slap in the face with angst. The final chapter of this fic is a little over 10k words, and I wrote it all in one sitting LMAO. I went insane, but there is angst all over it.

𝟕. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠?

Most of my fics are happy endings because even though i LOVE angst and I'm so drawn to dark fics and things like that, they're so painful to read and write. The pain in angst fics is not for the lighthearted, especially hurt/no comfort. The happiest I think would be the last chapter of The Protector - To Be Found.. This whole series is a bit of a cliche, but it was my first series and post on here.. It's got a special place in my heart

𝟖. 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬?

Thankfully, no! It was definately something I was nervous about. I think that my writing isn't the best every now and then;;;; But I know that I'm only growing and challenging myself to improve with each step. It pushes me back up and makes me so grateful to everyone who does like what I put out, especially when they're not as popular categories or a bit of a different idea than what has been seen.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do, yes. Always wlw. They're mostly due to the requests I get in my inbox, but that doesn't mean I enjoy them any less. I dip into most things now and probably more as I get more comfortable writing them. I have no issues with it, I just want to translate it well if you know what i mean ;)

𝟏𝟎. 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬? 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧?

I'm not a big fan of writing them.. I don't think I'd really know what to do if I were to write one. They can be a really hard thing to write, but it makes me look up to the ones who can write them super well. If that's your thing and you love to read them, I'd check out @daydream-cement if you haven't already. They did a really good crossover with Gwen's characters called The Road Trip

𝟏𝟏. 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧?

Not that I am aware of, no.. If this ever happens, please bring it to my attention. I spend hours creating and it's always like a punch in the gut when something so personal and meaningful to me gets stolen

𝟏𝟐. 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝?

Nope

𝟏𝟑. 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨-𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞?

Not yet. I haven't been asked about it before, but my current schedule is too packed for me to even contemplate the idea. One day!

𝟏𝟒. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩?

I'm very much on the x reader train. I basically only write and read that as well. Don't know if I'd write anything else, but there are a few Lady D x Larissa Weems ones that I've seen a bit ago that caught my eye

𝟏𝟓. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥?

Lover Academia.. Literally my next series LMAOOO. Guys.. It's been sitting in my notes since I wrote The Protector....... I changed a big part of it in early September and basically merged two ideas, but I haven't had the motivation to go in and rewrite them to fit together. It's like pages of notes.. AND I DON'T KNOW HOW IT'LL END SO THERES THAT TOO AHAH

𝟏𝟔. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡𝐬?

Setting of time and place. I've always loved describing things. I could write pages to just describe a room alone. I always loved reading stuff like that because it really helped me visualize what was happening, so I guess it translated into my own writing.

𝟏𝟕. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬?

I'm much slower than I would like to be. A big part of that is now balancing school, work, and a social life. I'm thankful enough to consider doing this and interacting with my mutuals as a bigger part of my life. It's crazy to think that I followed these people months ago, and now I talk to and write alongside them. I do so much with school and work that there are days where I could write but I allow my body to recharge for a bit and then pick it up later in the day.

But this also taught me a good lesson because I am not a consumable artist. I don't want to push out mediocure works, I don't want to operate like a machine, I don't want to put works out only for them to be swiped over everyones heads. I want my work to be savored, to be reread, to be saved in folders because "ohmygod that was amazing." As artists in this social world, we are pushed to create as much as we can, but I don't want to be lost within that.

𝟏𝟖. 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐜?

I've never done this before? I think I would when it comes to anything related to Lady Dimitrescu or Donna Beneviento, but I would make sure to get it checked before releasing it. It's a risky game to play sometimes.

𝟏𝟗. 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫?

Wednesday (Larissa x Reader)

𝟐𝟎. 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧?

Monster (series) - It's the way I loved breaking my own heart. It's the way I loved making you all suffer along with me. It's the way the ending was so long but provided closure after the shit show that Larissa and Reader had gone through. I'd love to write one-shots for this universe. I loved it so much and feel like I can write their happier moments that way.

I Know You Will.. - THE LYRIC FICS YOU GUYS REQUEST LITERALLY HAVE ME IN A CHOKEHOLD. This one hurt so good. This is a part of Larissa that I will always want to love and protect. She needs to be reminded of how amazing she is - we all understand this part. But being allowed to feel those emotions and have someone stick with you through them is also oh so special.

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IGNORE THE FACT THAT I FUCKED UP THIS POST SORRY

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Tags (no pressure <33) - @sapphos-ode @i-write-sometimes-maybe

consider yourself tagged if you see this

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x,

~ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[nothwell]

Hello! I was wondering if you could share any tips on outlining, if you do so? I'm trying my second manuscript and I haven't found anything that really helps yet.

Hi there! So my outlining process has evolved over the past ten years since I first started writing Mr Warren's Profession. But the short version is: I write a book like sewing a quilt or patching a rip. I have a few key cathartic emotional beats I want to bring to life and I fill in the gaps between them with whatever is necessary to make the story make sense.

Beyond that, most of my outlining is just rapidly writing in brackets the absolutely necessary things a scene needs to get across and then going back and expanding on that in actual prose.

Examples from Mr Warren's Profession under the cut.

THIS SUMMARY:

[aubrey hits the pavement for new mills, old mills, counting houses, customs offices, considers moving to Liverpool, forgets to eat, etc., then gets a telegram from lindsey being like “miss ur faice” and goes to visit in london, telling himself he can also use the trip to look for london work; in reality he relishes every moment spent with lindsey, who lets him forget his troubles and relax.]

BECOMES THIS SCENE:

In Manchester the next morning, Aubrey shaved, dressed, and opened the door to go out before he remembered he’d been sacked. He stared into the empty hallway with unseeing eyes. Then he shut the door to put his head in his hands and think the problem over.

He had the whole day to himself. No responsibilities, no appointments, no schedule of any kind.

And he hadn’t the first idea what to do with it.

The day yawned before him, empty hour upon empty hour gaping into infinity. The thought of it made his stomach knot. His savings wouldn’t last forever.

One short trip out to buy a newspaper later, he pored over the help-wanted advertisements. There weren’t as many as he’d hoped. Still, he circled in pencil every business seeking a clerk. Tucking the paper under his arm, he ventured out into the city.

The first mill seemed promising. Its manager, Mr. Dobson, listened attentively as Aubrey recounted his relevant work experience.

“What did you say your name was?” Mr. Dobson asked when he’d finished. “Warren?”

“Yes, sir.”

Mr. Dobson frowned thoughtfully. “One moment.”

Aubrey waited as Mr. Dobson flipped through the documents on his desk. At length he produced a telegram and brought it close to his nose. His eyes flicked over the words. His frown deepened. He glanced back and forth between the telegram and Aubrey’s face. Then he put the telegram down on his desk, his hand over the text.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m afraid the position’s been filled.”

Aubrey mirrored his frown, confused, but thanked him for his time all the same.

Similar scenes played out in every subsequent office Aubrey visited. One manager shut the door in his face the moment he said his name. Another was less careful than Mr. Dobson in keeping his telegram’s contents secret. The body of the message remained hidden, but Aubrey caught the sender’s name. Block capitals spelt out SMITH.

Aubrey’s eyes widened. He corrected his expression and returned his gaze to the manager’s face in time to see a responsive flicker of fear in the man’s eyes.

The contents of the telegram were easy enough for Aubrey to guess. He forced a smile and cut the interview short. No sense in wasting the manager’s time, much less his own.

As he walked down the road away from the office, it took considerable effort to keep his chin up. Internally, his emotions volleyed between despair and rage. And yet, for all his anger, he knew he had no one to blame for his predicament but himself. Smith didn’t need to stretch the truth to give any prospective employer more than enough reason not to want Aubrey in their office.

When Aubrey reached the next business on his list, he stared up at the door and found he couldn’t muster the will to knock. He turned and started back for home. A hot packet of chips from a stall along the way improved his mood somewhat, but his mind remained overset by hopeless dread. Soon he wouldn’t be able to afford food at all.

Aubrey trudged up the stairs to his garret well after seven. He made a game attempt at reading The Engineer as he finished off his chips, but couldn’t focus. With a frustrated huff, he crumpled up the empty, greasy newsprint wrapper and chucked it into his wastepaper bin. Then he went to bed and lay staring up into the darkness.

Smith had destroyed all Aubrey’s hopes of future employment in Manchester. Aubrey didn’t want to leave the center of the industrial revolution, the home of Mechanics’ Institutes and engineering schools and the rush and roar of iron and steam. But Manchester was hardly the only city in England.

London, for example. London had hundreds of offices and counting-houses and businesses who’d never heard of Smith, much less received his telegram.

It also had Lindsey.

~

THIS SUMMARY:

[aubrey falls into a routine of go out, look for work, come home, eat a hot meal, retire to a warm bed, fuck his handsome boyfriend, and get up the next day to do it all over again. When the weekend arrives, lindsey invites him out to the theatre again. Aubrey points out he’s hardly dressed for it, lindsey offers to loan him clothes again or buy him a new suit outright.]

BECOMES THIS SCENE:

The next day, Aubrey boarded the train to London. The ride took up most of the morning. Aubrey spent it combing The London Star for potential leads. By the time he arrived at his destination, he had a list of offices to visit, sorted by neighborhood, arranged in a loop through the city which would bring him back to the station by seven and home in Manchester by midnight. Before he visited any of them, he stopped at the Post Office to mail a letter.

As he’d supposed, no one in London had heard of Smith. They’d also never heard of Mr. Jennings or Rook Mill. Despite this handicap, Aubrey made some favorable impressions. He felt much better about his prospects than he had the previous evening, and relaxed enough to nap on the train back to Manchester.

When he returned to his garret, he found a letter shoved under the considerable crack between the bottom of the door and the threshold. He picked it up with a smile, which widened as he opened the envelope and saw it was exactly what he’d hoped—a reply to the letter he’d sent Lindsey that morning.

The day after that, he made another trip to London, reading the same paper and making a similar list. But the labyrinthine route he planned didn’t return him to the train station. Instead, after walking the city from noon to dusk, he turned towards Belgrave Square and landed on Lindsey’s doorstep.

Mr. Hudson raised an eyebrow at his appearance—the mud and soot and smog hadn’t been kind to his only suit—but led him in to the library regardless. There, Lindsey sat reading a fat leatherbound volume. When he saw who stood in the doorway, he broke into a grin and leapt out of his chair.

“Aubrey!”

Relief washed over Aubrey as he returned Lindsey’s grin. He’d felt conflicted about inviting himself over Lindsey’s house. He hated to be presumptuous. Yet it gnawed at him to spend so much time in London and none of it seeing Lindsey. The letter he’d received in reply, while affirmative, retained the perfunctory tone required to give the impression that their relationship remained businesslike. As such, Aubrey couldn’t quite convince himself his presence was truly welcome.

Now, however, with Lindsey pulling him into a strong embrace, Aubrey had to admit he might be wanted.

Aubrey leaned into Lindsey’s shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his body, the secure hold of his arms across his back, and the gentle nudge of his chin against the top of Aubrey’s head. Lindsey loosened his grip to brush his fingers through Aubrey’s hair. Aubrey tilted his face up for a kiss, which Lindsey provided with enthusiasm.

“Did you have any luck?” Lindsey asked when he broke it off. “Are you hungry at all? Thirsty?”

“Tired,” said Aubrey, but he did so with a smile. “You?”

“Oh, fine as ever,” said Lindsey. “Please, sit—”

And Aubrey found himself ushered into a plush armchair with a glass of brandy by his elbow.

“Really,” Aubrey began, “you don’t have to—”

“Nonsense,” said Lindsey, dragging his own chair close to Aubrey’s. “Now, tell me everything.”

He put a hand over Aubrey’s, thumb rubbing across his knuckles. Aubrey turned his palm up to squeeze Lindsey’s in return, and told all. Lindsey’s hand clenched his as he described what Smith had done to his reputation in Manchester, but relaxed as he moved on to his greater success in London. Just as he finished, Charles arrived and announced dinner was ready.

“Dinner?” said Aubrey after Lindsey sent Charles on his way.

“Dinner,” Lindsey confirmed with a smile. It waned when Aubrey didn’t return it. “Is that not amenable to you?”

Aubrey, recalling his last dinner at Lindsey’s house, hesitated. “Won’t your sister mind?”

“She’s visiting Lady Pelham in Yorkshire. There’s no one here tonight but us.”

And the servants, Aubrey didn’t say.

But when he followed Lindsey to the dining room, the only servant there was Charles. The table was set far more simply than at the dinner party, with fewer courses and more familiar fare. Lindsey watched Aubrey carefully as the latter took his first spoonful of soup.

“Is it…?” Lindsey began after Aubrey swallowed.

Aubrey smiled. “It’s delicious. Thank you.”

Lindsey relaxed and dug into his own bowl with a fascinating combination of relish and decorum.

“What were you reading when I came in?” asked Aubrey.

Lindsey swallowed. “Poe. Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque. Are you familiar with him?”

Aubrey hated to disappoint Lindsey with his ignorance, but he couldn’t pretend to know what he didn’t. “What sort of stories does he write?”

Far from looking disappointed, Lindsey perked up. “Promise you’ll stop me if I bore you.”

Aubrey nodded, and Lindsey launched into a passionate explanation lasting through dessert. He had his dessert spoon in hand, and had used to to poke at his sorbet no fewer than three times, but hadn’t brought any of it to his mouth—he kept pulling it away to throw his arms out wide in broad, emphatic gestures. Aubrey held back a fond smile at the sight.

“Doyle owes Poe a greater debt than he realizes,” Lindsey concluded. “No matter what Holmes would say on the matter.”

Aubrey supposed he ought to read it for himself, and said as much. Lindsey, who’d finally managed to sneak in a mouthful of sorbet, gulped it down to grin at him.

“What have you been reading?” Lindsey asked.

“Nothing so fantastical as Poe,” said Aubrey. “Just The Engineer.”

Lindsey shrugged. “I’m interested.” When Aubrey continued to hesitate, he added, “You’ve listened to me prattle on about Poe for the better part of two hours.”

But Aubrey, glimpsing the clock on the wall behind Lindsey, shook his head. “I ought to return to Manchester.”

Lindsey’s face fell. “What? Why?”

“Because that’s where I live.”

“Well, yes, but—it seems dashed inconvenient for you to travel all the way back there, just to return to London in the morning.”

Privately, Aubrey agreed. Aloud, he said, “What else can I do?”

Lindsey stared at him. “Stay here, of course.”

The offer lifted Aubrey’s heart to new heights. He swallowed hard to put it back in its place. “I don’t want to impose.”

“It’s hardly an imposition if I invite you.”

“After I’ve already invited myself over for dinner.”

Lindsey scoffed. “That’s not—dash it, surely you know you’re welcome here at any hour?”

Aubrey didn’t, actually. Such a notion hadn’t entered into his wildest fantasies. He knew he ought to respond with gratitude, but shock trapped the words in his throat.

When Aubrey failed to reply, Lindsey added, “I’m happy to host you for as long as you remain in London. Perpetually, if need be. It’d be my pleasure.”

Aubrey coughed. “Not perpetually. Just until I find employment. And a place of my own. Shouldn’t take more than a week.”

“It could take a decade for all I care,” Lindsey said with a laugh. It died when he saw Aubrey’s face at the thought of remaining unemployed for so long.

“A week,” Aubrey insisted.

Lindsey’s smile returned, weaker than before. “As you wish.”

Aubrey mirrored it more sincerely. “Thank you.”

They retired to the library after dinner. Lindsey happily handed his book over to Aubrey and selected another from the well-stocked shelves. Aubrey settled on one end of a long sofa. Lindsey stretched out on the remainder of it, the back of his head coming to rest on Aubrey’s thigh. Aubrey cast a bemused look down at him. It took Lindsey a moment to catch it.

“This all right?” he asked, peering up from his book with wide eyes, all the more ridiculous for being upside-down.

Aubrey bit back a laugh and nodded. Lindsey gave him a concerned frown in return.

“Are you sure?” he said, starting to sit up. “Do you need more room?”

But Aubrey put a hand on his forehead and gently pushed him back down. Lindsey acquiesced, his head rubbing against Aubrey’s thigh as he re-settled. Aubrey kept his hand on Lindsey’s curls and trailed his fingers through them as he read.

Aubrey hadn’t read fiction since he’d been a boy in the workhouse, piecing together scraps of improving penny literature donated to the Sunday schoolhouse years before. Poe proved leagues above anything churned out by the authors of Jessica’s First Prayer and Froggy’s Little Brother. Yet even the tension of The Fall of the House of Usher couldn’t keep Aubrey awake after the day—the week—he’d had. His eyes burned with exhaustion. He’d just made up his mind to soldier on without complaint when his half-stifled yawn caught Lindsey’s attention.

“Sorry,” Aubrey said in response to Lindsey’s quirked eyebrow. “It’s not the book, it’s—”

“—staying up past eleven after rising at five to tramp all over London on foot?” Lindsey ventured a self-deprecating smile.

Aubrey blinked at him, chuckled, then bowed his head in defeat.

Lindsey shut his own book, plucked Poe from Aubrey’s hands, and marked the page with a red ribbon from the library table drawer. Then he tugged the weary Aubrey up from the sofa, put an arm around his waist, and led him down the hall to bed.

The soft, warm bed began lulling Aubrey to sleep as soon as he crawled between its sheets. He stayed awake just long enough to feel Lindsey’s lean limbs curl around him. Then he was out.

He awoke the next morning with his cheek on Lindsey’s breastbone. He lifted his head from the steady rise and fall of Lindsey’s chest to gaze upon his sleeping face. The temptation of his parted lips proved too much for Aubrey. He crawled up to kiss them. Lindsey, half-waking, gave a hum of pleasure. Aubrey pulled away to watch his blue eyes flutter open.

“Good morning,” said Aubrey, unable to suppress a self-satisfied grin.

Lindsey echoed the sentiment and leaned in for another kiss. Aubrey happily complied, rearranging his hips to line up with Lindsey’s. As he’d suspected, Lindsey’s prick stood as ready as his own. They’d both gone to bed naked, which made it easy for Aubrey to frot their cocks together between their bellies. He grinned wickedly down at Lindsey as the latter’s throat bobbed in a swallow of eager anticipation. Then Aubrey rolled his hips. Lindsey arched his back and spent in short order. Aubrey’s crisis followed close behind.

An hour or so after a more drawn-out encore, Aubrey rose, washed, and dressed to hunt for work again. Lindsey, still abed and watching throughout, persuaded him to stay just long enough to gulp down a hot cup of tea and a biscuit. He couldn’t, however, persuade him to come back to bed, or to take a holiday from his quest.

Even after rising late and leaving Lindsey’s house later still, waking up in London rather than Manchester gave Aubrey an early start on his search for employment. He covered more ground than the two preceding days, following up on the more promising offices he’d visited on his first trip into the city.

When he returned to Belgrave Square that evening, Lindsey awaited him with a ready smile, a hot meal, and hours of fascinating conversation interspersed with quiet leisure. That night, Aubrey slept better than ever before, no doubt aided by the sweet release that came with clenching Lindsey’s cock between his own slick thighs.

The rest of the week fell into the same routine; Aubrey woke in Lindsey’s bed, marched all over London, and returned to Lindsey in the evening. Throughout the day, the thought of his Lindsey kept his chin up and a smile on his lips. He could happily spend forever like this—provided he found employment soon.

Saturday arrived. Aubrey rose at half-past six and began to dress. A low grumble from Lindsey stopped him.

“Where’re you going?” Lindsey mumbled, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

Aubrey, who’d bent to put on stockings, abandoned the effort with one off and one on. “To look for work.”

“On a Saturday?” Lindsey sat up and blinked at him. “Who’ll be hiring on a Saturday?”

“Plenty of people, or so I’m hoping. Most offices should be open for half the day.”

“Good God,” Lindsey groaned.

Aubrey bristled. “We can’t all afford to live on five days’ pay.”

“No, I know, it’s just—it doesn’t seem fair.”

“It isn’t. And yet, here we are.”

Lindsey sighed. “You’ll be back in the afternoon, then? We could attend the theatre tonight. Or the opera.”

Aubrey preferred the theatre, but a more pressing concern pushed itself to the forefront of his mind. “I haven’t anything to wear.”

“Borrow something of mine. Or if you return early enough, have a tailor come ‘round and take your measurements. It wouldn’t be ready for another few days, but you’d have it by next Saturday, and then we could…” He trailed off at the look on Aubrey’s face.

“I should probably find work before I buy a new suit,” said Aubrey.

Lindsey frowned in confusion. “I meant I would buy it for you.”

Aubrey had suspected as much. His eyes flicked over to his only jacket, hanging off the back of one of Lindsey’s chairs. Its battered, dusty elbows and frayed cuffs looked even more worn in the midst of all Lindsey’s luxuries. Aubrey couldn’t deny it needed replacing. A new suit might even better his employment prospects. And yet the thought of Lindsey spending so much tied Aubrey’s guts into knots. Knowing Lindsey was rich as any Rothschild did nothing to ease Aubrey’s conscience. The money might be meaningless to Lindsey, but it meant everything to Aubrey.

Rather than voicing any of his actual concerns, Aubrey replied, “I had a notion we might visit the Crystal Palace. They’ve got an electrical exhibition on.”

Lindsey would likely be terribly bored, but Aubrey wouldn’t need a new suit to attend.

To Aubrey’s surprise, Lindsey didn’t seem at all bored by the prospect. On the contrary, his face lit up as if it, too, were powered by electricity. He announced his delight at Aubrey’s suggestion and shrugged on a dressing gown to cross the room and give Aubrey a celebratory kiss. Aubrey found himself smiling in return as Lindsey ran a hand through his hair and on down his cheek.

~

THESE SUMMARIES:

[Aubrey finds a great clerking job at some kind of office and is about to start when he gets the telegram from mr. Jennings (goes back to Manchester to pack up his stuff? Which is still there because he’s paid up through the end of the month?). Aubrey is torn between the sensible option of clerking and the fantastical possibility of getting started on his dream job. Lindsey is like “FOLLOW YOUR HEART!” because he’s too rich to ever have to deal with reality. Still, the lure of engineering is too much for aubrey to resist, and so he returns to manchester]

[aubrey explains he doesn’t want to work under lindsey again; lindsey offers to sell the mill back to clarence; aubrey says that’s not fair to the rest of the workforce, plus he probably wouldn’t keep even a coal-passing job under clarence; explains that this London clerking gig is the first job he’s acquired without personal connections; feels he hasn’t ever really earned anything in life; lindsey’s like “okay sure let’s pretend your friendship with certain individuals gave you employment advantages; those advantages wouldn’t have done shit for you if you weren’t a hard worker. Would Smith have done half so well in your place?” and aubrey points out smith is doing exactly as well as him; better, in fact. Lindsey doesn’t have much to say to that, apart from: “Seems like your mind’s already made up; no coal-passing for you.” And aubrey’s like “yeah but…. Engineering…” and lindsey’s like “ah.” And aubrey falls all over himself trying to explain his reasoning and apologize to lindsey at the same time but lindsey’s just like “whatevs, FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS~!” and aubrey can’t quite believe anyone would say that and mean it sincerely but if anyone would it’d be his precious puppy lindsey. The dolt.]

[lindsey is like “never let someone else stop you from going for what you want most” and aubrey is like “oh yeah like ur dad and school” and lindsey’s like “well, yeah, that, and also…” and aubrey is confused about what else lindsey could want most that anyone would try to keep him away from and then he’s like “oh wait his friends and sister tried to keep him away from me” and then aubrey is overcome by the realization that he is what lindsey wants most and doesn’t really know what to do with this information—quick, cover up your emotions with physical displays of affection!]

BECOME THIS SCENE:

Despite spending most of the night and all the next morning’s train ride considering the problem, Aubrey came no closer to a solution by the time he reached Lindsey’s doorstep. He found Lindsey at breakfast, surprised at his early arrival but delighted to see him. Aubrey sat beside Lindsey as he was bid and made a valiant effort at returning Lindsey’s joyful expression, but could do little more than push his bacon around his plate.

“Is there anything else you’d prefer?” Lindsey asked.

Aubrey jerked to attention. “No, sorry, it’s—I haven’t any appetite.”

“Everything all right?” said Lindsey, frowning. A handsome frown, but the sight cause a pang in Aubrey’s chest regardless.

“Fine,” Aubrey hurried to reassure him.

Lindsey hesitated, then spoke again. “Forgive me, it isn’t that I don’t believe you, it’s just…”

“…you don’t believe me?” A wistful smile tugged the corners of Aubrey’s mouth.

Lindsey mirrored his expression. “If there’s anything I can do…”

“I’ll ask,” said Aubrey, the lie coming to his lips even easier the second time.

Lindsey’s forced smile did nothing to alleviate Aubrey’s guilt. Aubrey sighed and set down his fork.

“I received a letter from Mr. Jennings,” he said. Lindsey’s eyebrows rose against his reluctance to explain further, so he added, “He’s offered me a job as a coal-passer.”

“Excellent!” said Lindsey. “What’s a coal-passer?”

“The person responsible for keeping the engine fed.”

“Ah,” said Lindsey. “And this… distresses you?”

“I have to refuse,” said Aubrey. “A coal-passer doesn’t earn near so much as a clerk. And I can’t return to Manchester. Not when I’ve everything waiting for me in London.”

Lindsey nodded along, but his brows remained knitted. Aubrey returned to his plate. He poked a few morsels, then dared another glance at Lindsey, whose expression hadn’t changed.

“What?” said Aubrey.

“You don’t seem entirely at peace with that decision.”

Aubrey, unused to being so transparent, hurriedly dropped his gaze and replied to the table rather than to Lindsey. “It doesn’t matter.  I’m moving to London. I’ve a new job. A good job. I’d be an idiot to turn it down to shovel coal.”

The room fell silent, save for the tines of Aubrey’s fork scraping his plate as he stabbed at his eggs.

“Is it because coal-passing has more to do with engineering than clerking?” Lindsey asked.

Aubrey brought his head up sharp to regard Lindsey, whose confused frown had given way to concern.

“It does,” Aubrey admitted. “But that’s irrelevant.”

“But if you’d prefer it—”

“—then I’m an ass, and deserve to starve in the gutter, which is where I’ll end up if I—” Aubrey swallowed. “And besides, if I return to Rook Mill, I become your employee again.”

“I could sell it back to Clarence.”

Aubrey blinked. “What?”

“Clarence Rook,” said Lindsey. “If I return the mill to him, then you’d be his employee, not mine.”

Aubrey stared at him, unable to comprehend the notion of a massive property transfer for no other purpose than his personal comfort. “Mr. Rook would slash wages back to where they were when you acquired the mill. And he’d sack me again in the bargain.”

Lindsey appeared shocked. “Why would he do that?”

In lieu of explaining exactly what Lindsey’s dearest friend had imparted to Aubrey during their meeting, Aubrey replied, “Because I’ve a habit of violence towards my fellow staff.”

“Only under duress.”

Aubrey shook his head. “This clerking job—it’s the only one I’ve ever earned. Every other position I’ve held has resulted from personal connections. My—” Aubrey scrambled for the correct word. “—friendship with Mr. Jennings convinced him to hire me on as an office boy, and before that—the Post Office didn’t hire me for my brains.”

“Then they were fools,” Lindsey replied with conviction. “You’re brilliant.”

Aubrey’s instinctive protest stuck in his throat.

Lindsey spoke on. “Let’s pretend your friendship with certain individuals provided an advantage in seeking employment. What good would this advantage have done if you hadn’t proved yourself worthy of the positions you held? Would Smith have done half as well in your place?”

“Smith still has the job I was sacked from. I’d say he’s done better.”

Lindsey, who’d opened his mouth to continue, choked off whatever he’d intended to say.

Aubrey supposed he ought to feel victorious. He’d made his point and silenced his opponent. By the rules of logical debate, he’d won. Yet all he felt was a growing, gaping void in his chest. His soul threatened to sink into it.

Lindsey’s grimace became a sad smile. “Your mind’s made up, then. Clerking over coal-passing.”

“Yes, but—” Aubrey stopped himself.

“But what?”

“Nothing. It’s not rational.”

“To the devil with rational,” said Lindsey. “What is it?”

Aubrey forced the words out in a rush. “Clerking in London would be a step away from engineering. Likely forever. If I start as a coal-passer, I could learn on the job and advance to fireman, second engineer, engineer—”

“So become a coal-passer.”

“At what cost?” said Aubrey. “It wouldn’t be fair to Mr. Lawson. I’ve promised to start first thing on Wednesday.”

“What do you owe him? Write an apologetic letter and wash your hands of it.”

“It wouldn’t be fair to you!” Aubrey blurted.

Lindsey sat back and stared at him. “What?”

“If I return to Manchester, it’s farther from you—and we’ve already planned that I’d move to London so we might be—” Aubrey cleared his throat and looked to his plate, stabbing his eggs again. “It’s not fair to you to have me run off, not after you’ve been so obliging. Putting up with my nonsense.”

“What nonsense?”

“This,” Aubrey didn’t say. Instead, he replied, “You wanted to go to the theatre, and I dragged you all over the electrical exhibition.”

“I suggested we attend the theatre,” said Lindsey, enunciating each word with careful patience. “You suggested we visit the Palace. I agreed, and had a wonderful time. We both did. That’s not nonsense. You listen to my prattling about Poe and Braddon and Doyle and heaven knows what else. You overlook my blunders—”

Aubrey lifted his head. “What blunders?”

Lindsey half-smiled. “I asked you if you rode horses.”

“That’s—” Aubrey coughed. “Anyone could make that mistake.”

Lindsey’s sheepish smile broadened. “I gave you a calling-card case.”

Aubrey, who hadn’t realized Lindsey recognized his error, flushed scarlet. “And I cherish it!”

“You do?” Lindsey sounded genuinely surprised.

Aubrey thrust a determined hand into his jacket pocket and produced the object in question. Silver flashed in the morning sunlight. Lindsey stared at it. Then a tentative grin appeared on his face, and he closed his hands over both the case and Aubrey’s palm.

“My point,” he said softly, gazing into Aubrey’s eyes, “is I’m delighted to see you happy. And stricken to see you miserable. Engineering—if you could’ve seen your face at the exhibition!—it makes you so—” He shook his head. “I can’t bear to watch you throw that away. You shouldn’t let anyone stop you from striving for what you want most. Least of all me.”

Aubrey’s reply—that Lindsey was what he wanted most—stilled on his tongue at Lindsey’s tone. It sounded as though Lindsey knew precisely how it felt to be kept from his most heartfelt desires. What could prevent one of England’s richest, handsomest bachelors from having everything he wanted, Aubrey couldn’t fathom. He thought back on what Miller and Graves had told him of Lindsey’s school days. That must be what Lindsey meant; his father keeping him from school, and his friends shielding him from romantic developments.

Then Aubrey recalled why Graves and Miller had wanted to speak with him in the first place. Why Rook and Miss Althorp had done the same. Every person in Lindsey’s life wanted Aubrey out of it. And Lindsey wanted—

Aubrey.

Lindsey wanted Aubrey most of all.

The revelation swept over Aubrey, flooding his mind with panic.

“Are you all right?” Lindsey asked.

Aubrey didn’t trust himself to speak. He stood and closed the short distance to Lindsey’s chair. Lindsey looked up at him, his stunning blue eyes wide in confusion. Aubrey closed his own and swooped down to press a ferocious kiss on Lindsey’s parted lips. Lindsey returned it with equal passion. When the awkward position grew too much to bear, Aubrey pulled back to rest his forehead against Lindsey’s.

“I suppose I’ll be an engineer,” said Aubrey, still not daring to open his eyes.

Lindsey kissed him again. “A brilliant one.”

Aubrey laughed and nuzzled Lindsey’s throat.

~

Nowadays my outline looks like writing out almost the entire scene in brackets, then going back and editing out the brackets, fixing the tenses, and cleaning it up until it's prose.

I'd compare it to learning to draw. At first the sketch and the final drawing look wildly different. But if you put the hours into sketching, eventually the sketches themselves become final drawings and you have to do very little to "finish" them.

Hoping any of this was helpful to you, and thank you for asking!

[onetouchparadise]

Lost ~ Sheldini

For @blaugrana-blues, hope you like it❤️

Too many memories came back to him as he strolled through those empty alleys, those narrow streets where they once hid fleeing retreat, to be free for a few hours, just the two of them, how hard it was to hold back those tears that had been threatening to escape for so long. That's why Paolo hadn't been back to Kiev since they… his heart refused to say it, his mind to think it, but that little voice that haunted his dreams at night had no problem doing it: 'You abandoned him can't you see? He came home and you never looked for him again, it's your fault! He must have already forgotten you…'.

He sat down on a bench, it was cold, like everything that day, maybe to warm up, maybe to cheer himself up he reached into his pocket and took out a pack of cigarettes, he took one and lit it, he didn't like smoking and he didn't most of the times but it had almost become a habit every time he thought about him, he took a drag and tried to distract himself by watching the smoke being blown by the cold wind and reflected on what he was doing there. He honestly didn't know why he had arrived in Kiev, he usually refused trips to the East in places that reminded him of his beloved (he didn't have the strength to say his name), but, since all the scouts were already active elsewhere, Maldini was sent to look for talents in the Ukrainian league, when he had finished his work and reports to send home, however, late at night, he decided to take a walk around the city, as he had done so many other times when they were still together.

He knew that seeing Kiev alone in the night would only bring him regrets, but he couldn't help it, he had an urgent need, and perhaps the small hope of finding him and fixing everything continued to throb in his chest.

Without even thinking about it, by dint of thinking about his former love, his feet left and he walked into the only Ukrainian road he knew by heart, the stones crunching as he walked there again, he left the park and went more towards the suburbs.

It didn't take long before arriving in front of the familiar house, the one where he had lived for a while during the summer season, the white walls, which had once been clean and perfect, now had lost a bit of colour, the garden seemed less well-kept, but there were some flowers and a swimming pool, which had not yet been brought when Paolo visited the house for the last time.

Suddenly the wind got colder and a part of him wanted to go back to the hotel, continue his scouting work and, when the time came, go back to Milan and pretend like nothing ever happened (although he knew this trip had already opened a wound inside). He continued to observe the house when he noticed a light on in the living room, someone was there and who else could it be if not ... Maldini wanted to escape but ended up coming face to face with the window, he could almost see inside: a burning fireplace, a cup of hot chocolate and a chair, turned towards the fire, yes, it was him. "Sheva..." He found himself whispering nostalgically, and then covering his mouth, but by now the damage had been done, and he would no longer be able to run away as he once would have done in a situation like this, he watched apprehensively as Andriy closed the book and placed it on the desk, got up from the armchair and went into the corridor, it was still as beautiful as the first time.

By now Paolo could no longer hold back and decided that he would see him, he was missing and this was his only chance, he pulled up the sleeves of his jacket and looked at the two bracelets he kept on his right wrist, next to a red and black one there was a gold chain "It reminds me of wheat, my home... and you are the only thing I love more than my home" he still had Sheva's words clear in his mind when he gave the chain to him, he holds it tight every day .

He moved closer to the door when the handle moved and the head of his beloved popped out of the door, his hazel eyes shone with disbelief and he immediately went to embrace that unexpected guest: "Paolo...I missed you so much.. ." he said in a subdued voice, whose words were hidden by the now wet jacket on the collar, and Maldini cried, cried out loud "I love you Andriy, but I couldn't have come sooner, I couldn't do it... I love you" and they stood there locked in an embrace that lasted centuries that broke when their heads lifted and their noses touched, they kissed briefly, as if it was forbidden for them, and then Sheva stroked Paolo's hair, remembering fondly the curls that adorned them, the other meanwhile was still crying and the Ukrainian whispered in his ear: "Come on, let's go inside." and they entered the house holding hands. The first thing Paolo saw was a ticket for Milan, the plane was going to fly in a week.

Maybe…the fate wanted them to be together again.

[ellies-cycling-notes]

Post-Ride Notes

This is my final post for the foreseeable future. This is just a place for me to give my final thoughts about the ride, as well as some general statistics about the ride.

Thoughts

I don't really know where to start. I have already gathered a bunch of statistics from the trip, but actually talking about the trip itself has a kind of finality that I don't know if I'm totally prepped for. The trip is over, but I'm still in a weird state where every day feels like a rest day, where I'll have to bike another 80 miles tomorrow.

I've biked a few times since the trip ended, obviously much shorter rides. It was difficult at first adjusting to not having so much weight on the back of my bike, but it's nice now. It's also extremely relaxing not having to constantly worry about possibly getting a flat tire when I go over a bump. It's also been great not having to eat nothing but PB&Js all day. Despite typically really enjoying bread in general, I've actually been eating a lot less of it than normal, just because I no longer really have to eat it 3 meals a day.

My bike needs a lot of work done on it now, and I need some of my additional equipment replaced (specifically my gloves and shoes). However, I do still feel like this whole trip was worth it. It was a great palate cleanser for me, even if it was stressful and tiring at times.

I definitely probably have a bunch more things I could say, but I don't want to spend too much time thinking about how to say them.

Statistics

I made a spreadsheet here with various statistics for the ride. Here are some of the highlights:

Total Distance Traveled: 1432.78 miles

Average Distance Traveled Per Day: 79.599 miles

Average Distance Traveled (Including Rest Days): 62.29 miles

Longest Ride: 102.09 miles (Day 4)

Shortest Ride: 50 miles (Day 8)

Total Time Spent Riding: 120 hours, 7 minutes

Average Time Per Day Spent on the Road (Including breaks): 8 hours, 22 minutes

Earliest Morning Departure: 6:36AM (Day 4)

Latest Evening Arrival: 5:58PM (Also Day 4 - a 100+ mile ride tends to do that)

Average Speed: 11.95 mph

Fastest Speed Reached: 37.4mph (on Day 7)

Number of Apples Eaten: 71 (Average of 3.09 per day)

7 different types of apples eaten, not counting the several apples I ate I didn't know the type of

Apple type with the highest average rating: Honeycrisp, with an average of 7.1

Apple type with the lowest average rating: Zestar, as the only zestar apple I ate I gave a rating of 5

I took an average of 2.1 breaks on a given day's ride

Number of flats: 13, with all 13 occurring in the first 12 days of the trip.

The spreadsheet also includes some additional information and organization if you want to look at it, such as the minor point of whether or not I saw any deer on a given day, as well as a very brief overview of what topics I discussed that day. Thus, if anyone is interested in a specific topic (say, my design notes on Time Loop), they might have an easier time finding all the posts they want.

And that's it! I'll be posting a picture timeline later, with every pic taken of me by friends/family during the ride, but apart from that, I do not expect to be posting anymore (and yes, I know I said basically the same thing at the end of last post, about how I was going to only make 1 more post).

[the-jury-room]

“That’s the LEAST expected from any father.”

Funny how you say that, especially when these are the exact words you pulled from what you called the "long, sanctimonious essay/journals paying glowing tribute." "It’s the LEAST he can do after her sacrifices. Otherwise, all responsibility for extracurriculars would fall on one parent, which isn’t fair."

"There are lots of parents doing far more and fighting against HUMONGOUS ODDS every single day."

And? Why are you..shifting the goalposts 😉? How do the efforts of less fortunate parents invalidate his? Let’s not forget, as someone else pointed out, this is the same man who once had to steal diapers for his child when he had nothing. Did you really expect him, instead of just flying to Cleveland, to drive across the entire country—or worse, walk—just to make it a bigger challenge for you?

And yes, leaving California on a Friday night, landing in Ohio, spending hours on the road from the airport to downtown (or wherever he has a place—he only shared it recently, but I’ve heard he’s had it for a while), picking up your child from their mother’s house, taking them to tournaments (sometimes 2-3 hours away from the school—I know, because my mutual complains about how draining and tolling these games are), doing it again the next day, taking every available moment to spend quality time with them while also taking care, protecting, supporting, and reassuring them, and then having to say goodbye in less than 48 hours and fly across the country again—this, almost every week—is a huge challenge. Bet YOU wouldn’t last a month doing that. It’s a challenge, just like when he had to do over 300 lives a year across North America, Europe, and Australia on coach flights and buses just to feed his daughter. How does flying on a private jet now suddenly make him a worse parent by your standards?

There are plenty of people who could easily drive a short distance to visit their kids, but instead, they’ve shown they’d rather exploit their partner’s business trips as an excuse to avoid their responsibilities 🦟.

But don’t worry. Soon enough, you’ll see for yourself. He’ll show you exactly how far he’s willing to go for a child that is his, no matter the "HUMONGOUS ODDS." Every obstacle thrown his way by a bitter baby mama, every scorned ex running their mouth with lies, every smear campaign, every attempt to make his life a living hell, can only motivate him even more to fight for his parental rights. You can be humongously sure of that, you odd anon.

Also, who in their right mind would describe something challenging as ''HUMONGOUS ODDS" and expect to be taken seriously? You're not being sarcastic, but hey, you are being absolutely ridiculous.

.

[brywrites]

Every Side | Reid x Reader

Summary: When work cuts their reunion short, Spencer Reid tries to memorize every side of the Reader in the few hours they have together. Reid x fem!Reader, ✨soft smut (non-graphic but still 18+)✨

Author’s Note: I was listening to Vance Joy’s newest album and I heard this song that was just so Spencer I had to sit down and write this!  

........

The summer evening air is sticky sweet and she is the only thing on his mind. After a week and a half on the road with Rossi leading trainings for local law enforcement, Spencer Reid can’t stand to be away from her another minute. When she opens her apartment door and he runs straight into her arms it’s like he’s whole again. Breathing in the smell of her perfume and burying his face in the familiar soft skin of her neck as her hands smooth over his back.

“God, I missed you,” she sighs.

“Missed you more,” he replies without missing a beat, pressing his lips to that soft skin. He peppers a trail up to her jaw before capturing her mouth in an overdue kiss.

Their fingers are twined together when she leads him over to the couch and he can’t seem to look away from her smiling face. “I’ve got a whole weekend with no plans,” he tells her. “We’re doing anything and everything you want to do.”

“Anything?” she asks, eyebrows raised. “Careful, love, you might regret that.”

“I won’t. Anything you want to do, you name it. Park picnics, fancy dinners, museums visits, road trips –”

“You?”

A laugh escapes his lips, heat rising in his cheeks. “I - well, yes. I’m certainly an option.” 

The ability to catch him off guard like this is just one of the many things he adores about her. In some ways their love still feels so new, so much still to be discovered and experienced. At the same time the last eight months have been a lifetime with the way she fits into a space in his heart he thinks she must have always occupied. She brings out the best in him, sees sides of him he wasn’t even sure existed. And he’s hopelessly head over heels for her.

The first thing she asks for is to have dinner together. After a week on the road a home-cooked meal sounds divine, so he sits on the counter chopping vegetables for the curry she’s making and regales her with tales of Rossi’s expensive taste in dining and hotels during their trip. They eat warm naan fresh out of the oven and she pours them both chai lattes and they’re grinning all the way through dinner as they sketch out their plans for the remarkable weekend before them. It’s blissful and silly and right - until they’re doing the dishes together and she’s flicking water at him as he tries to dodge the aim of the soapy suds and suddenly his phone rings.

Her hands freeze and his heart sinks because they both know that ringtone. Sure enough, Garcia is on the other end of the line to explain that a case has escalated while he and Rossi were away. The Bureau wants them out there as soon as possible.

“I’m sorry,” he says the moment he hangs up the phone.

She shrugs, drying her hands on the dishtowel. “I know. But there are lives to save. Where are they sending you?”

“Denver. Serial arson. We fly out at 8 AM tomorrow.” It’s unbearable already, the thought of another few days spent in unfamiliar, empty hotel rooms. Takeout dinners and police station coffee and people that aren’t her. Aren’t the one he loves, the only one he wants to see right now.

“I guess you gotta go home and pack then, huh?” It’s less of a question than a resignation, an understanding admission of defeat. Deferring her own desires to his duties so easily.

That surrender something stirs in his chest and he shakes his head. There’s only one thing he needs right now. “No.” She looks up at him, eyes wide. “No, I have a go-bag ready at the office. I might not be able to give you everything you wanted this weekend. But I can give you one thing.” Reid cups her face, pulling her to him. Those wide eyes of hers search his as he leans in to kiss her, his teeth grazing over her bottom lip. “And you can give me something to remember you by.”

Her breath catches and her hand traces up his chest. “When did you get so smooth, Doctor Reid?”

“Around the time I realized how much I liked the sound of you calling me doctor.”

They meander their way into her bedroom, giggling like teenagers as they undo buttons and remove layers, fingertips wandering every which way. When he finally gets his shirt off, she places the softest of kisses to his collarbone, her touch warm against his chest. “Are you sure you’re okay spending the night here?” she asks.

“Very. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” He sinks down onto the bed and wraps his arms around her waist. From there it’s easy to press his face to her chest. He can hear her heartbeat as he presses his mouth to the valley between her breasts. “All I want is to be with you. All I ever want is you.”

That confirmation is all she needs to join him on the mattress, straddling his hips as she tangles her hands in his hair. Pulls just a little bit, just enough to elicit a groan she catches in a kiss. The taste of tea still lingers on her lips and he wants to savor it, drink in the way she feels and the warmth of her tongue.

When she leans back to catch her breath her eyes find his, so full of longing. The way she looks at him makes him melt on the spot. It’s the way she sees him, the way she knows him, a gaze that leaves no room for misunderstanding. He can feel it, feel her, and he needs more of her. His greedy hands roam over her body, down the plane of her back before finding the curve of her ass. A soft squeeze before his touch travels across her hips and he pushes her panties down her legs. She whimpers at the brush of his fingers over her heat and god, he’s so hard already.

Being with her is like nothing he’s ever felt before. Every touch is so loud, every sensation amplified, but it’s never too much, not when it’s her. With her, every second of passion is laced with something stronger. He realized it early in their relationship - the way he felt more connected to her than he ever had with anyone else before. It’s that love that makes it all feel so much more. How she trusts him so completely, how he finds himself telling her all his secrets without any fear, how she makes him feel so safe. So loved. So enough.

“You’re sure taking your time,” she murmurs, hands clutching bedsheets.

He looks up from between her legs, tongue swiping over the wetness on his lips. “It’s a luxury I don’t have enough of,” he tells her.

He bows his head once more and she cries his name. “I miss you already. Miss you so much.” A tear slips down her cheek and he crawls up close to her to wipe it away.

“You have me now.” He kisses the corner of her eye, tasting saltwater. “I’m right here.”

It’s intimacy in every sense of the word, he thinks, that turns the heat of arousal into a forest fire. Sets all of him ablaze beneath her lips, makes every single motion feel so magnificent.

He loves her. He loves her so much he cannot fully tell her in words. Only in closeness, in contact, in the fine, tender frenzy of the flesh.

The summer night unfolds outside her window as she lays back on the bed and opens herself to him like a gift. A perfect, pretty offering. He treats her with the proper reverence such a sacred thing deserves. Devotes himself to every inch of her in an attempt to make up for lost time. While he has been blessed with an eidetic memory, Reid has come to find that no memory quite does her justice. Nevertheless he commits himself to finding and kissing every spot, every scar, every square inch of her skin. Tries to hold on to every sound she makes, each moan or mewl, each time her breath hitches and she begs for him by name. He will memorize every side of her to stave off the loneliness the road demands.

In a hotel room alone he will close his eyes and replace every monster of the criminal abyss with replays of these moments. Her eyes shining like stars as she looks up at him through her lashes, the way her lips part in a gasp, the softness of her hand on his cheek and her kisses sprinkled across his jaw. These memories will be his solace in the days to come, but he tries not to get too lost in holding on when he can simply hold her; and so he tries to be present in the now without worrying about tomorrow.

Tonight, he is all hers, and she holds him so tight as he buries himself between her thighs again and again and again.

The air is sticky and sweet as they find new ways to say I love you without words. And when they are both thoroughly spent he goes to open her window, letting the late night breeze cool the bedroom. She falls asleep quickly, which takes him by surprise until he notices the clock on her nightstand signifies that tomorrow is today now. In just a few hours the sun will rise and he will be crossing time zones once more.

Despite the early start to his day, he stays awake a little longer just to look at her. He listens to the symphony of her breathing, watches her shoulders rise and fall. Sweat still paints her face, her hair is wild on the pillowcase, and even in her sleep she smiles. And he loves every side of her. The sighing lover who licks a stripe down his belly, the laughing girl who splashes him at the kitchen sink, the patient listener of his many rambles, the knowing smirker glancing at him from behind a book, the love of his life fast asleep under the moonlight looking as peaceful as he has ever seen. Every piece of her has a place in his heart and tonight he just wants to love all of her for a little bit longer.

“I love you,” he whispers as dreamland calls to him. Hoping that somehow she’ll hear him.

His sleep is brief. An alarm on his watch is muffled by the pillow he stuffed it under. Reid rises slowly and quietly in the dim morning light. He dresses haphazardly and writes her a quick love note. In the bathroom he finds the t-shirt she sleeps in next to a bottle of her perfume. He snags the shirt and spritzes it with the fragrance, knowing she won’t mind if he borrows it for just a few days.

Something else to remember her by, to keep her close to him.

The train to Quantico is mostly empty. He holds his messenger bag tight in his arms, daydreaming of her still. He’s not quite sure when he’ll be back, but what he’s sure of is this: when he comes home, he will ask her to move in with him. Because he can’t stand the thought of being away from her for a second more than he absolutely must. Without her, his world won’t quite be whole. In a matter of months, she’s become his whole world.

Sitting on the jet, his phone buzzes with a text from her. I love you too, it reads.

He smiles. Leaning back in the seat, he puts it back into his pocket as start their journey up into the sky. The sun is high in the early morning sky, painting the world orange and gold on every side and he closes his eyes, playing back in his mind every moment with her that he’ll miss until she is in his arms again.

.

✨

[lookbluesoup]

Writing US Military Characters

This is a non-exhaustive list of some common ‘quirks’ or habits that can give away a character’s military experience. Wrote it up for myself and it’s particularly useful when I want to show instead of tell. These are based on first person accounts from several vets! Thought others might like to use it too for a reference :D Ones with * or ** came up particularly often.

Like any guide, it’s just that - a guide, not a set of rules! A character is unlikely to do all of these, and other factors like ADHD, trauma, or just personality might effect what sticks. People are endlessly diverse! 

Eat, Drink, Dress, and Rest

* High tolerance for physical discomfort

** Eat very fast, and aren’t picky about the taste

** Can sleep anywhere - on a helicopter, in enemy territory, up high, underground, when it’s loud, when it’s quiet

* Can operate effectively without sleep for over 24hrs, or with erratic and limited sleep for days

** Wake up early, 0500-0700; Wake up quickly and ready for action

* Hair cut regularly. Beards stay clean shaven (alternatively some may avoid shaving when out of uniform)

** Dress practically and neatly, jackets buttoned/zipped up, ironed, polished

Take hat off indoors 

Organization and Talents

Gearhead

Gun nut

Detail oriented

** Pockets are meticulous. The same thing always goes into the same pocket, for easy reach. Pockets never full to bulging. Carry multitool.

** Hands stay out of pockets - ready. (Hands in pockets is forbidden in the military. Some Special Forces may keep their hands in pockets, as their ‘grooming’ rules are less enforced. Because they can)

Always carry things with left hand (and ”southpaws” must learn to use standard right-handed weapons)

** Know how to clean house and keep it organized (may choose not to out of uniform)

** Can make bed and shower fast

Organize clothes to be able to dress and maneuver their own space in pitch black (Navy specifically)

Know how to sew basic repairs (i.e. a button)

Layout items before packing. Tight roll clothes. Pack efficiently

** Can read maps effectively, may prefer them to a GPS, use landmarks

Deadlines not always considered concrete (There is a military mantra, “Hurry up and wait.” Often one would be told to complete something or arrive somewhere at a certain time, but nothing would happen due to someone else’s task meant to be finished earlier still being incomplete)

** Alternatively (or in tandem), arrive 5-30 minutes early to every event

Things kept packed securely in the car, “ready for sea” and “heavy rolls” (Navy specifically)

Routines and Social

** Respect for the “Other” or “Them” - other religions, cultures, races, and ethnicities - had to work crammed together with a diverse group that may have strongly opposing viewpoints, and learn to trust each other to have their backs in dangerous situations (For many, military is their first real experience with different cultures and beliefs)

* Respect ≠ Like. Will go above and beyond for a respected leader, even if they are disliked

Deeply suspicious of red tape, bureaucracy, and bosses on power trips, and will only do the minimum required for these

** Low tolerance for slacking/job skirting

* Volunteer other people for tasks, and willing to be volunteered for things

Don’t ask people to do things they aren’t willing to do themselves

Still follow orders of bosses they dislike. Still have the backs of coworkers they dislike

** Like clear orders, responsibilities, chain of command, and penalties

* Have Plan A, Plan B, and Plan C

Actions matter more than ceremony; definite respect for processions, but excessive reverence for the flag/anthem/etc viewed as posturing rather than true patriotism

High tolerance for boredom

** Adaptable, high stress tolerance, work efficiently, self reliant

** Avoid having their back to an opening (windows/doors/etc) or sitting anywhere someone can sneak up on them from

* Avoid loud, crowded areas, check perimeters, barricade doors, sleep last in a group (may coincide with PTSD)

Always walk on the right side of a road/grocery aisle/etc

Stand at parade rest, walk cadence, walk fast

* Walk quietly, even in boots, sneak quickly (military crouch run)

De-escalation in violence - in protective armed situations the standard is: 1) multiple warnings, 2) warning shots, 3) shoot to incapacitate. Shoot to kill is a last resort. (not following these steps could get an ally or potential ally killed) In verbal disagreement, resolve an issue before it escalates

* Wariness toward and tendency to feel Other’ed by civilians

* Immediate acceptance toward other military, expectation of shared values

Vernacular

Observe before speaking in a situation, only speak if it seems significantly important to

Refer to people as “Sir” or “Ma’am”

Giving out nicknames

** Speak directly, make direct eye contact (sometimes comes off as rude, often intimidates)

* Don’t take criticism or disagreement personally, expect others not to, either, and will point out flaws even to superiors (but again, orders are respected)

** Clear communication, acknowledge messages by replying, even if that’s just a thumbs up or down

** Swearing. Lots of swearing. Every other word is swearing

** Dark sense of humor, and racist/sexist jokes - not indicative of individual’s actual belief system or violent tendencies

Unbothered by angry yelling, angry quiet people are more concerning

** Point with ‘knife hands’, not just a single finger

** Use a 24 hour clock instead of a 12 am/pm; i.e. 0800 hours, not 8am (Called ”Military Time” in the US) 

Describe locations by o’clock directions, i.e. dog standing at 6 o’clock

* Write out dates as day-month-year (US usually does month-day-year) i.e. 21Oct57

** Use phonetic alphabet to spell things out, or at least have it memorized

** Habitually use military terms or sayings, including:

Good to go - Mission ready, ready to proceed

Squared away - Compliment indicating exemplary service

Popping a smoke - Need to get out of here [From using smoke grenades to call helicopters for extraction]

“Sir yes sir” [A ‘sir sandwich’] 

FUBAR - F*cked up beyond all recognition

SNAFU -  Situation normal, all f*cked up

TARFU -  Things are really f*cked up

BOLO - Be on the lookout

ATL - Attempt to locate

IAW - In accordance with

Civilian - Non-military person

Roger - Message received and understood

“Say again your last.” - What?

Firearm- Gun

Ruck - backpack

March - walk

Double time - running

PT - working out

Rally point - meetup

Field day - Spring Cleaning (Navy specifically)

Get smoked - Laps, pushups, etc as punishment