#it feels a bit like the 'touch starved' trope in practice?

[ainulindaelynn]

Extremely random thought for your Wednesday (or Thursday, depending): I just encountered the term alexinomia for the first time and now I'm so so fascinated (and also laughing about the fact that there's unintentionally a name in the term for apprehension of speaking names).

But I've always felt that way? I RARELY use people's names. Rarely. It effects both talking to people and talking about them, but usually only the former. And its more pronounced with people I care deeply about - the more deeply, the less likely I am to use it. As an example, I don't remember the last time I said my partner's name to them and I think the total instances could probably be counted on one hand in the entirety of our ten year relationship.

It's not always a good indicator of affection though, because sometimes I'll push past that deliberately as a mark of emotion. But that's like.... terrifying lmao

There's just something so bizarrely intimate about names??

Since reading it I've been confounded by that element of it being more difficult the closer the person is. I read a few articles and it seems like there are widely ranging opinions on the topic as a whole (wide enough to toss the lot out imo) and for me at least, I don't think it's social anxiety. It doesn't feel trauma based. It's not my shotty memory. It's just... very specific. And it feels about connection.

I was explaining this to my partner and I think I figured it out, at least for me:

Names (any name a person feels intense connection with, given or chosen) feel intimate to me. Period.

And using one feels like striking that intimacy intentionally.

And I'm careful about that.

But I also think (and maybe in weird for this), the way you feel about a person is usually evident in the way you say their name. Not necessarily the inflection or circumstance, although sometimes. Something about the syllables? I don't know. It feels transparent most of the time.

Which, if true for other people, means saying someone else's name is revealing about my own feelings toward them and however much affection is (or isn't) behind it. Which is why people who are closer are often harder. It's more vulnerable. It's easy to say someone's name when, in my mind, they are at arms length, when I don't care about how they receive or how much they reciprocate.

Idk, that's such a strange social phenomenon and now I'm curious if other people experience this too and if it's for the same reason?

Such a bizarre thing.

[yourpenpaldee]

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ WRITEBLR INTRODUCTION.

I don't usually put myself out there as it makes me nervous. But I've been a lurker for way too long, and it's about time I step out of my comfort zone. So, hello! I'm Dee (she/her), twenty-two, and have found my voice with storytelling.

Writing has always been a passion of mine, and continues to be the tool I turn to when I need an outlet to freely express myself. I have, unfortunately, hit a rough patch with consistency, and I'm here to bring all of that motivation and inspiration back. Especially since there are one too many WIPs sitting on the backburner, and they're all calling my name.

As someone who loves to dip their toes into every genre of fiction, I will read anything that peaks my interest. However, when it comes to creating, my works usually fall under romance and mystery. With practice, I intend on branching out into other genres I don't write often. There's a lot to explore in the world of writing, and I don't want to limit myself to only two categories.

Creating this blog provides me the space I need to accomplish the many goals I often dream of achieving. I acknowledge that it all starts with the ability to hold myself accountable. To show up for myself. To become comfortable with the uncomfortable. Putting myself and my projects out into the world is only the first of many steps, and it feels quite liberating.

I aim to use the voice I've found to not only contribute to the progression of POC representation, but to touch on several topics that remain heavily stigmatized in today's media. There’s a joy that runs through my veins every time I see someone like me on my screen or in a book. I feel seen, heard, and proud. I feel important. But as a creator, there’s that itch that can only be scratched when I create. When I make something that lets the next person know that they’re not invisible. That they're valued, loved, and appreciated. That's what I hope for when someone reads a project of mine. For them to feel the same rush of joy flowing through them as it does me.

Wow, I’m a yapper. I'd like to close this intro off with some fun facts, so here are some of my top five favorites with sidenotes because I still want to yap a bit more about the things I adore.

SOLO ARTISTS:

ARI LENNOX ✧ ˚ · . CHOCOLATE POMEGRANATE — GET CLOSE — GOAT — POF — UP LATE

HALSEY ✧ ˚ · . 100 LETTERS — I HATE EVERYBODY — NIGHTMARE — ROMAN HOLIDAY — THE LIGHTHOUSE

HOPE TALA ✧ ˚ · . CHERRIES — EDEN — I CAN'T EVEN CRY — LEAVE IT ON THE DANCEFLOOR — SUNBURN

MELANIE MARTINEZ ✧ ˚ · . ALPHABET BOY — DEAD TO ME — EVIL — NOTEBOOK — STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE

HALIMA ✧ ˚ · . DOWNTOWN — FORD CARDINAL — IF LOVE WAS GREEN — SAMANTHA — TALK

BANDS:

5 SECONDS OF SUMMER ✧ ˚ · . AIRPLANES — BETTER MAN — KILL MY TIME — LONG WAY HOME — TEARS!

FALL OUT BOY ✧ ˚ · . BANG THE DOLDRUMS — CHICAGO IS SO TWO YEARS AGO — HEADFIRST SLIDE INTO COOPERSTOWN ON A BAD BET — NOBODY PUTS BABY IN THE CORNER — WHERE DID THE PARTY GO

FLO ✧ ˚ · . CARDBOARD BOX — FLY GIRL — IMMATURE — SUITE LIFE (FAMILIAR) — WALK LIKE THIS

PARAMORE ✧ ˚ · . BIG MAN, LITTLE DIGNITY — CAUGHT IN THE MIDDLE — FRANKLIN — MISGUIDED GHOST — PART II

THE INTERNET ✧ ˚ · . DONTCHA — HOLD ON — LOOK WHAT U STARTED — SOMTHING'S MISSING — SPECIAL AFFAIR

GAMES:

CORAL ISLAND ✧ ˚ · . IF I START LISTING NAMES, I'M GOING TO MENTION EVERYONE. BUT I'M A LOYAL MARK GIRL. AND NOAH... AND MILLIE, EVA, BEN, Y—

DISNEY DREAMLIGHT VALLEY ✧ ˚ · . THIS IS SUCH A COMFORT GAME THAT SOOTHES MY INNER CHILD.

DON'T STARVE [TOGETHER] ✧ ˚ · . I MAY OR MAY NOT STILL SUCK AT THIS GAME AFTER A SOLID THREE YEARS, BUT I'M A WIGFRID MAIN.

STARDEW VALLEY ✧ ˚ · . I LOVE SEBASTIAN AND LEAH, AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL IF I HAVE TO.

THE SIMS 4 ✧ ˚ · . WHERE I SPEND A LOT MORE TIME IN CREATE-A-SIM AND BUILD MODE COMPARED TO PLAYING THE ACTUAL GAME.

TROPES:

FAKE RELATIONSHIP ✧ ˚ · . MHM... JUST SAY YOU LIKE EACH OTHER ALREADY.

FATED MATE ✧ ˚ · . I'M A BIT PICKY ABOUT THIS TROPE THOUGH. THINGS TEND TO MOVE VERY QUICKLY BUT I ENJOY IT NONETHELESS.

FRIENDS TO LOVERS ✧ ˚ · . A CLASSIC THAT DOESN'T NEED AN EXPLANATION.

REUNION ✧ ˚ · . ESPECIALLY IF THEY WERE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AND THEY REMINISCE OLD MEMORIES, OH MY GOODNESS. I EAT THIS TROPE UP EVERY TIME.

SLOWBURN ✧ ˚ · . NO DOUBT THIS IS MY MOST FAVORITE TROPE. THE BUILDUP TO EVEN THE TINIEST PIVOTAL MOMENT ALWAYS MAKES MY HEART THUMP.

TV SHOWS:

CRIMINAL MINDS ✧ ˚ · . YES, I’LL WATCH ALL 16 SEASONS FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME AND FALL IN LOVE WITH PRENTISS EACH TIME. WE WERE ALSO ROBBED OF BEARDED HOTCH CONTENT.

BRIDGERTON ✧ ˚ · . DO I CRY EVERY TIME I WATCH GEORGE AND CHARLOTTE'S STORY? YES. WILL I CONTINUE TO REWATCH IT AND RECITE THE LINES EVERY TIME SOMETHING REMINDS ME OF IT? ASOLUTELY.

THE BEAR ✧ ˚ · . I WISH I KNEW OF AYO EDEBIRI BEFORE THIS SHOW BECAUSE THAT WOMAN IS AMAZING??? LIKE, HELLO???

THE EQUALIZER ✧ ˚ · . *mini spoiler* STILL CAN'T STOP THINKING OF DANTE'S GRIN WHEN HE GOT TO SEE MEL, ROB, AND HARRY'S LITTLE WORK SPOT FOUR SEASONS LATER.

SWEET MAGNOLIAS ✧ ˚ · . HELEN, MADDIE, AND DANA SUE IS HOW I PICTURE MY FRIENDS AND I IN THE FUTURE. MARGARITA NIGHTS, BEING AUNTIES TO EACH OTHER'S CHILDREN, UGH. I LOVE THEM WHOLEHEARTEDLY.

And that concludes this introduction on me and this blog. I would love to connect and befriend other authors, so please don't hesitate to reach out as my DMs will always be open! I'd love to support and read your works, so don't be hesitant to share them with me if you'd like.

I hope you all will enjoy reading my works as much as I enjoy the process of bringing my ideas to life.

divider creds to strangergraphics ♡

[cloudcountry]

bird brain

Genre/Tropes: Fluffy bird brain behavior & Established relationship.

Summary: Crowley has a bird brain, but you love him anyway.

Author's Comments: I just think that this is canon. Also I feel like I don't have to say this but just in case Reader is not Yuu. They teach at NRC. I think this turned out pretty well even though it was first time writing for a staff member? I don't think I'll do this often since I literally don't know how to write anyone except for Crowley so if there are any Crowley likers out there let me know LMAO I might write more of him idk yet.

~~~~~

It was no secret to you and the other faculty at Night Raven College that Crowley had a bit of a bird brain. He liked to spoil you in his own special way, with shiny rocks and pretty feathers and seashells presented to you with lovesick eyes. That man would do anything for your approval, and while it was endearing, it did get obnoxious sometimes.

Like, for example, when he slammed open your classroom doors with a rock in hand, setting it on your desk where you had been organizing papers. There were always little flecks of dirt that fell off onto the pristine white papers, but you sucked it up as he gloated. Or when you’d be in the middle of a lecture and he’d bust down your classroom doors again, holding a shimmering multicolored feather that he picked up off the ground somewhere. Your students would try to hide their laughter, and some, their exasperation, when he acted like you were the only person in the room. All he ever wanted was praise, and maybe a smooch if you were feeling generous (but you always refused the latter in front of the students. They did not need to see that, and the gall of Crowley to even ask was beyond you.)

It had left you flustered and reeling too many times to count, the little shoebox in the bottom drawer of your desk slowly growing full with his gifts.

And speak of the devil, he was here again.

The telltale fast paced footsteps outside your classroom had you rolling your eyes as you set down your pen. A loud thump at the door made you try to hold back laughter—that lovable idiot had run into the door again.

The door flung open with a strong gust of air, and standing there was Headmage Crowley in the flesh.

“Beloved!” he yelled enthusiastically, making a beeline for your desk.

“Yes, dear?” you looked up at him, an amused grin on your face.

“Here.” he beamed, placing a dented bottle cap on your desk.

Despite the grime, you had to give him credit. It was pretty shiny, and the design over the metal featured mostly your favorite color. It wasn’t hard to see why he’d picked it up for you.

“What do you want in return for it?” you shook your head, picking up the bottle cap and twirling it over your fingers.

“Nothing, of course! It's a gift out of my infinite kindness!” he gloated.

“That’s what you always say. Now come on, what would you like?” you stood up, walking around your desk to face him.

“...A kiss?” he chuckled, pointing at his lips excitedly.

“Of course.” you laughed, setting the bottle cap down on your desk.

Crowley was practically vibrating on the spot from how excited he was, the goofy grin on his face making your heart squeeze. He never failed to be absolutely adorable whenever you offered up affection—it made you wonder if the esteemed headmage of Night Raven College was secretly touch starved. Gently, you placed your hands on his shoulders and pressed your lips against his. Crowley’s hand found its way to the back of your head, the claws scratching against the skin tenderly. He really made for the best head massager sometimes.

You pulled away but he chased you, stumbling over his feet before he finally let you go. You were flustered once again as he smiled, seemingly satisfied with the state he’d left you in.

“Thank you, my dear.” Crowley cupped your face, kissing your forehead for good measure, “Would you mind if I made myself at home here for a while?”

“Of course not. I was grading papers though, so I won’t be able to pay you my full attention.” you hummed, turning away from him.

“That’s fine! I can help! After all, I am very kind. Oh, I’m so benevolent!” he beamed, radiating smugness.

“Naturally. Thank you, dearest.” you sat down to begin your work once again, the bottlecap glinting cheerfully in the candlelight of your classroom.

[stargazeraldroth]

hear me out: soulmate errink where you share your dreams with your soulmate- you can talk to them, just hang out cuddle, go on little dream dates, the like. and of course, this holds true for error! and his strangely unnamed soulmate. it’s practically the only thing keeping him sane, really- those little nighttime visits to a tiny, almost unfinished looking skeleton. it’s the only time he can talk to someone that isn’t the voices, the only time he can hug someone and touch them, and sure, things aren’t always perfect but they’re all the other has- error’s been told about the blank, awful whiteness and sketched figures his soulmate is stuck with, and he’s shared his own experiences in turn.

and error intended for his slowly emerging power to travel between aus to be a surprise for his little soulmate! he’d hate to get their hopes up, to promise something he couldn’t fulfill, but he’s sure he’s almost got it down- just a bit more practice and he can finally, finally find them, can get them out of there, and even if things aren’t great from there they’ll have each other, right? neither of them will be alone.

so of course error freaks out when the dreams stop coming and his soul aches.

of course he forgoes being careful and tears his way through whatever worlds may have been between him and his soulmate because they don’t matter right now.

and of course he loses it when he finally, finally gets to their awful cage of scribbles and whiteness and finds only dust and shredded remains of a soul behind.

basically: i’m curious where you’d go with something like this, where past!ink starts to think the soulmate dreams are just him going insane and can’t take it anymore (the creators, perhaps?), and error snaps when his soulmate seemingly isn’t there at all, suddenly. may or may not be yandere, now. oops!

RAAAAAAAAAAAH SOULMATE AU 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

I LOVE A GOOD SOULMATE AU but unfortunately, my commentary is gonna be complete garbage. Because it's getting late, I'm tired, and I'm slightly hungry. But nothing's appealing and I don't wanna make anything. So I guess I'll starve

ALSO YANDERE MENTION??? YES PLEASE??? I don't know why, but the yandere trope is one of my favorites to use. Maybe I need mental help

Anyway, this is already pretty angst-focused, so I'll just keep following that trend. Like I said, my commentary's gonna be crappy, and I feel bad because this such??? A well-written thing??? I'm so sorry Anon :(

I thiiiiink it's canon that Ink doesn't remember anything from his unfinished AU, since he destroyed his soul, but I could be wrong about it. I'm only like 50% sure about that one, but for the sake of being consistent and not wasting your time, I'll say that he doesn't remember his past. Meaning he doesn't remember any of the dreams he had or even his soulmate, or that soulmates are even a thing. He doesn't relearn this until he finds out while observing some AUs, and he even gets... a bit envious sometimes. He knows that being soulless has many advantages when it comes to combat, such as his regenerative abilities, but the lack of a soulmate is... glaring. He knows some of the others pity him for it, too. He doesn't want their pity. It feels so... belittling...

Meanwhile, Error's turned cold and calloused from the death of his soulmate. He's adopted an "If I can't have (blank), then no one can" mentality when it comes to soulmates, which is part of why he destroys AUs here. He still feels a constant ache because of his frayed bond. Sometimes, he looks at Ink and wonders if he feels anything, but then argues that he's soulless- meaning he didn't have a soulmate to begin with (if only you knew, Error). And yet... sometimes, he can't help but see his lost soulmate when he looks at Ink. Their faces... their body structure... their voices... it's uncanny how similar they are, but it... it can't be him, right? How could it possibly be? It's just a hopeless dream of his, surely...

Now, this can lead into the yandere elements. If Error keeps making the connection, he juuuust might start believing what he's seeing. Maybe... maybe Ink is his soulmate reincarnated, or something like that. And if he is, then... Error can't afford to lose him again. If he loses him a second time, then he's really going to break. He can't go through that again! He knows Ink doesn't have a soul, but that's okay.

He's more than willing to remind Ink of what they used to have. What they should have had, and what they will have together.

[sukunasun]

Do you think you would ever write more of ghost face Geto and gojo? Something about the predator and prey aspect...😤🖤🖤🖤

(scrambles to hug my ghost face fics) ...who told you about my secret stash...hahaha i'd like to write more ghost face fics, maybe one day if i ever come up with an idea and actually write it instead of just...imagining it in my head.

ugh i do love a stalker/killer with yandere tendencies. predator and prey tropes get me every single time...something about geto being touch-starved and frantic too. the thrill and anticipation he feels when he's got you teetering on the edge of a knife that would surely sink into your neck if not for geto who decides instead to slither it right beneath the fabric of your panties, slicing through cotton, lace, satin. all with swift and practiced ease, you don't even realize how exposed you are until the iron presses into your skin and it feels so cold, so sharp, but he promises he won't hurt you, not when he finally has you to himself.

this is love he thinks because 'no one looks at me the way you do...' your wide eyes brimming with tears, with fear. it's been so long since he felt warm skin against his cheek, so used to covering himself up. yet you reach out a hand towards him like you just knew he'd crumble at your touch. turns into a whining, whimpering mess.

to be pinned below him, a large hand wrapped around your throat, sniffing at the deepest crooks of your skin, licking you. he's snarling and seething when you try to squirm away. "please, please let me have this," he begs, when he doesn't really need to, he's made it clear you won't escape, be it by your own strength or will. what do you have against his fervor, his need. tugging and fighting to keep your legs open, his pants chafing the already sensitive skin, right where he keeps rubbing his hard-on against your thighs raw from his incessant rutting.

sigh .. and gojo is so sinister isn't he...geto at the very least has that bit of tenderness in his chokehold, that bit of fondness for you, but when in gojo's arms, he tests you just to see how far he can go, rigorous and relentless as he watches you struggle and whine. "you cryin'?" he taunts and there's something merciless there when he's been pent up for so long, he just needs a release, and another one after that.

[swampstew]

Thank you @thus-spoke-lo for the tag in this fun self-recommendation game! I always feel a bit awkward posting reminders and announcements when chapters are ready for reading, but I'll take a moment to hype myself and the words of my labor up. Here are my 5 favorite things I've written so far!

What's the Magic Word? - So I love how One Piece is this giant fantastical world where pirates are a real threat and mermaids, dragons, and magic quite literally exist. I thought it was odd that there wasn't a witch character at all, especially with how well it would fit into the universe, and what type of role/responsibility power like that would look like. Rowena my baby was born. It's everything I've ever learned while practicing the craft, enjoyed seeing in pop culture media, and inspired by cultural lores that I participate in or have great respect for. I wanted to create a character that could believably exist in the One Piece world and then have her do a bunch of fun and cathartic things (that may or may not be a reflection of real life). Falling in love with Eustass Kid was not on my radar (is falling in love ever?) - in fact the first draft of the story didn't have the Kid Pirates at all. Nope, just my witchy girl and the Straw Hats having adventures. Then I got to the Sabaody Archipelago and I saw him. I thought it would be fun to put these characters in a situation where they weren't friends or enemies but rather temporary witness protection body guards with a powerful ass witch as their protectee. Plus the smut. Love the smut and romance always. Its my first writng project I've done since college and I'm so happy to be back in the writing sphere. This book will have a sequel :)

Turn Back Time - This was a random dream that turned into a 20+ multichapter fic and I'm not even mad about it. In this one I took a fun approach to the story by centering it not just on the OCs but the Kid Pirates themselves. My first fic didn't really acknowledge many of them until the editing stage but this fic is entirely about the Kid Pirates and what it's like being in their crew. Especially as the love interests of some of the scariest, beefiest dudes that end up just being touch-starved men who are fully capable of vulnerability and love. It's been fun and I am excited for the upcoming themes and trials they'll go through! There will only be the one book but it will follow the journey of the Kid Pirates up until the very recent events in the manga.

At First Sight - this was a one shot that turned into a mini-series and I surprised myself with how much I packed into it. I didn't want to or expect to make it into a series but after giving it maybe a whole day's worth of thought and effort, I feel like I pulled a pretty good fic out of what was originally a stand-alone porn trope collab story!! This one is also on the Kid Pirates cause they're my comfort characters and again its been a fun way to put a spin on these murderous pirates when they're engaging with someone who's neither foe nor friend. Not a frenemy but a familiar with benefits! I lowkey based Y/N's badassery on Beidou from Genshin Impact.

KillerCook - I saw a hot dude make brownies on Instagram and thought 'what if Killer.' That's it. I wasn't sure how I was going to present it so I settled for creating a social media experience and I'm pretty sure I delivered. I'm a Kid Pirates loyalist, if you want something else you can check my Swampstew Bedtime Stories but my bread and butter are these anarchist psychos. Now comes with accessories such as: baker's hat and apron, and also a set of gold body piercings! The response has been supportive and excitable, and it's inspired me to do another modern social media influencer monetization fic, coming soon 😏 on Friday actually!

Oh Yandere! series - I wanted to give myself an opportunity to play around with some dark content and found myself really enjoying it. Especially in the noncon/dubcon vein. I've been too meek to do anything more than head canons but I have recently been inspired to explore some truly deplorable characters if I pick this series up again. If not, I might do a short series on Yandere Eustass Kid that has some...inspiration from another popular fandom that may or may not piss some people off. ANYWAYS! Live Laugh DarkContent

Tagging for funsies but def no pressure - I just think every author should get a chance to fluff themselves up and talk about their works that make them proud!

@abysscronica @cebwrites @goldenandhappy @zoros-sheath @kenruu @creamsickle-writes

[muleumpyo]

Hello! Your secret santa would like to know if you have any particular hurt/comfort scenarios that you enjoy or any other tropes that you like to read?

hi!! of course I read this and forgot every trope I've ever known 😂 (im going to assume this is for chanbig) so for h/c I like the idea of Chan being the one taken care of, for once, and he has to guide Big through whatever care he has to administer because even though Big is normally very composed and competent, something about seeing Chan like this (hurt, or thinking he might die, maybe) throws him off, and he can't keep his hands from shaking. I also like when a character is so focused on helping the other person with their injuries, they don't realize until after that they're also injured. they sit down for a moment and the adrenaline wears off a little bit and then they're like actually I can't move...

I think for chanbig I like them taking care of each other in subtle ways, or privately, like neither of them likes admitting they're in pain but they need help (like they're in pain or need assistance in changing bandages or they're hurt and trying to hide it) and so the other will notice somehow and be like I'll help you and they both treat it so professionally at first even though it's outside of the bounds of their professional relationship, but every time they keep pushing that line a little further, both of them wanting more but neither being able to quite take the final step (chan because he thinks Big still loves Kinn, or can't be the one to cross the line because he's above Big in the work hierarchy and doesn't want to pressure him; Big because he thinks Chan doesn't feel anything for him, and he's been burned by his one-sided love for kinn, so does anyone even want him like that? no) until finally one of them does and thinks they've ruined everything (but of course they havent)

idk I love the idea of them sparring after hours because they're both the best at their jobs so obviously to get better they need to fight each other, but of course it also riles them up 😏 I also love them bathing together (non-sexual or sexual) like ways of treating each other gently when neither of them is very practiced at it and neither is good at receiving it. I like them both being touch-starved, where at first it almost hurts to receive a non-violent touch, because the desire for more then surfaces, the kind of desire that makes your chest ache, intense and ungentle and it feels bad to ask for more but such a relief when they get it. I like when they have to wear the other's clothes for some reason, the scent of someone's skin/clothes calming them down/making them feel safe.

I do love Chan being a soft Dom, of being a place where Big can feel safe for once, because he's already seen all the ugly sides of Big, and for Chan to feel comfortable opening up to Big, to sharing his burden with someone who understands him, who trusts him, who is loyal like he is. I LOVE them yearning for each other before they get together, like that terrible feeling of loving someone who you're close to in one way but think will never look your way romantically.

this is not really helpful for tropes I'm so sorry!!! 🤔 I really forget everything... I do really like it when one person is injured in front of the other but then for some reason they're not able to get to the other at first so they have to watch them in pain for what feels like forever before they can go get them.

I don't really enjoy torture, drowning, or extremely bad injuries for h/c, but I feel like Chan and Big have plenty of opportunities in their regular jobs to get injured in other ways anyway 😂

[damagedintellect]

Trafalgar Law x reader

💌 Fake it till you make it: Chapter 3  💌  

Summary:  To avoid an arranged marriage set up by Doflamingo, Law needs to bring home a girlfriend during the Christmas break and you just so happen to be a theatre major in the same dorm at One Piece University. What could possibly go wrong?  

Tropes: College AU, Fake Dating, Idiots in love, [Later chapters have🍋]

💌 Word count: 3,938 💌  <= Previous Chapter | Next Chapter =>

At some point sitting turned into laying down and the next thing you knew your eyes slipped shut. As the credits rolled Law finally looked away from the screen. He didn’t even realize that you had fallen asleep let alone were using him as a pillow. He was perplexed on what to do. He was already surprised how comforting he found your presence. While the two of you were alone like this he actually felt at ease. He began to take notice when his hand sought yours out all day. Despite knowing you were being followed and that he should, the act of holding your hand was unintentional. He looked back at you sound asleep before moving the laptop away. He didn't want to wake you up. Slowly but surely Law managed to move you enough for him to lay down next to you. His mind was still lost at the prospect that he was not repulsed by your physical contact.

In fact part of him seemingly craved it. He couldn't tell if this was due to the fact that Doflamingo wants him to marry someone else or if he genuinely has latent romantic feelings he should address. His levels of stress could be causing the touch starved-ness but he never thought his love language was physical touch. Quality time sure but you were already practically joined at the hip and have been for the past two weeks. Law closed his eyes. There was no sense thinking himself in circles on the matter. He just needed to be prepared for whatever Doflamingo throws at him. His relationship query could wait, he had self control.

The next morning Law woke up first. His head was a mess but he often had trouble quieting down his thoughts. He slowly opened his eyes to see you laying on top of him cuddled into his chest. Adorable. He was about to move you when you started to stir. He closed his eyes enough for you to think he was asleep but open just enough for him to watch what you do. What he wasn’t expecting was for you to look at him, smile and go back to snuggling into him. Was he really that comfy? Suddenly you bolted upright with so much force you fell backwards tumbling off the bed. Law couldn’t help but laugh at the clear display of grace.

"Y-you were awake!" You stuttered out from the spot on the floor. Blood rushing to your face in embarrassment. "Who wouldn't wake up to that. You weren’t exactly quiet, you know." Law stretched while you picked yourself up off the floor. You grabbed your phone and remembered "Oh!" You shuffled through the presents you wrapped to find Law’s.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!" You jumped back on the bed shoving the gift in his face. "Merry Christmas, you didn’t have to get me anything, I just assumed we weren't going to." He spent his time delicately peeling back the wrapping as you snickered "Well you thought wrong. Just hurry up already!" Law stared at the coin in his hands and looked back up at you completely at a loss for words. Your smile was blinding with how bright it was. "How did you know I wanted this? (Y/N)-ya they only printed 50 of these when did you-" Law paused, narrowing his eyes at you "That’s why you wanted takoyaki."

"Bingo, you were staring at it with heart eyes, it wasn't that hard to guess."

Law frowned "I was not."

"You totally were. You're little obsession with Sora warrior of the sea is cute. I'm just surprised you've never asked Sanji for an autograph." Law quirked an eyebrow at you "Why black leg-ya?"

"Oh, you didn't know? Sanji is a Vinsmoke."

"He's Germa!?" Law shouted in disbelief "Yeah he doesn't like people knowing about it but I just assumed since you were a big fan of the comic you would have known."

After breaking Law for a bit you both decided to see if anyone else was awake. All the kids were up, most of the adults were still waking up grabbing coffee. You used this time to put your gifts by the tree. As soon as Lao G woke up everyone gathered around the tree and started opening gifts. Yesterday you asked Baby 5 to help you pick out things people would like and for the most part you think at the very least people had a good laugh. Sugar got a mountain of plushies and luckily the one you got her she didn't have yet. Monet scowled but the blush on her face told you she really liked her new harpy shirt. Ever the tsundere. You got Baby 5 a heart locket. Whenever she does find love she can put their picture in it.

For Corazon you actually had his present made prior to coming. With the help of Bepo, Penguin and Shachi you made a photo album of all the candid photos of Law anyone in your dorm had on their camera roll. Personally your favorite ones were of him asleep at his desk when his bed was not more than two feet away. The blonde actually picked you up and spun you around meanwhile Law was sending some angry texts to his self proclaimed "former friends."

Doflamingo ever the methodical bastard saved opening your gift until he was the last one with a present. His expression was hard to interpret but everyone else got a kick out of it saying it was perfect for him. He chuckled darkly before getting out of his seat disappearing into the other room. When he returned he had one last present to give. You could feel Law tense beside you as Doffy handed it to you.

Upon opening it you were in awe. Inside was a gorgeous elegant pastel pink evening gown complete with a white capelet shawl, matching heels and jewelry. This was something you’d only seen people wear to a ball or some other high society event. You were speechless. "This is beautiful, thank you Doffy. I have no idea where I'm going to wear this."

"My business partners and I are hosting a charity Gala on New Year's eve. I doubt Law has said anything about it. Consider this a bribe to make sure Law will be in attendance. He tends to skip these events."

You could see sparks fly from Law and Doflamingo as they stare at each other neither backing down from the challenge. The situation was only diffused by Corazon's big family group hug. The rest of the day was spent playing more games, watching more Christmas movies and keeping Law from blowing a gasket everytime Doffy purposely sabotaged his chances at winning.

When evening rolled around everyone got dressed to go take this year's photo by the tree. After the photo was taken Monet snickered and pointed above your head. "Ooo~ Mistletoe." You and Law looked up and sure enough on the branch above your head someone had tied a mistletoe to it. You're pretty sure it was a set up by Monet but it also could have been Doflamingo. Heck it could have even been Corazon who knows. You and Law only stare at each other for a brief moment before he cups your cheek pulling you in as you rise on your tippy toes to meet him in the middle. You could feel your stomach flip in a pleasant way. His lips were softer than you thought they would be and when you pulled away you could see how red Law’s face became. As short and sweet as the kiss was, Corazon still managed to snap a picture of it. You laughed as Law complained and tried to grab for Corazon's phone but the Taller man held it just out of reach as he texted it to you.

On the way back to the house everyone was making fun of Law for being embarrassed over the slight PDA. Calling him "Lover boy" and "Casanova" causing him to pull his hat down further over his face. You were holding his hand one because it was warm and two because you were trying to make sure he didn't run into anything with his hat covering his eyes. After you got back to the manor dinner was served and the kiss was dropped from conversation. Although you'd catch Law stealing glances at you every now and then but he'd turn away as soon as you caught him.

Once dinner was done you stayed to help Corazon clean up. This time Law didn’t stop you claiming he wanted to take a shower and go to bed since he was exhausted from being around his family for such an extended period of time. Fair enough, you could imagine him throwing himself on his bed like the past few days. "Law is cute when he's flustered." You giggled as the aforementioned surgeon left the room.

Corazon grinned "In case you were wondering, that was a joint effort but it was Doflamingo's idea." You were shocked. "Really I would have guessed it was Monet."

"I think Doffy's warming up to the idea that Law can make decisions about his future for himself." Corazon paused to wink at you "Or you won him over and this is his way of approving your relationship." You hummed whatever the case you're silently thanking him. When this is all over and done you wouldn't have to think about what it would have felt like. You smiled as Corazon handed you the last dish.

"Oh, that reminds me. Do you know how to waltz?"

—

Law threw himself on the bed once again. He thought the shower would help calm his thoughts. He wasn't sure before but now he's definitely certain he developed a crush on you. He aggressively dried his hair with a towel. When he kissed you it just felt right. He melted into the touch and the whole way back home all he could think about was doing it again. To his defense he never had a horny teenage phase. He was too busy studying and defying Doflamingo for it to even be on the forefront of his mind. He always thought he had no interest in such things but now? He groaned in frustration. He had half a mind to ask if you'd even be interested. He noticed the way you stared at him when he was changing there could be a mutual benefit here. Truly he just didn't want to come off as creepy lest he make the rest of the trip unbearably awkward. There were too many cons that drastically outweighed the pros in this situation. He'll wait to see if you bring it up, repeating to himself that he has self control. He drifted to sleep

When you walked into the room Law was passed the fuck out. You couldn’t blame him honestly, you were surprised that he lasted so long spending time with his family. You were going to ask him if he could teach you to waltz since Corazon has two left feet but you guess that'll have to wait until tomorrow. As a musical theater major you were no strangers to partner dancing but it was all very choreographed and not a classic waltz. Once you changed, without thinking about it, you kissed Law goodnight on the forehead and fell asleep.

—

The next morning you woke up to the feeling of being suffocated. Law had you pressed into his chest. You didn't want to wake him up but you wanted air. You tried to shimmy out of his grasp but only got so far. Now your faces were inches apart and you were screaming internally. Feeling his breath on your face made you want so desperately to close the distance. Thinking back to that short lived kiss it was driving you mad. God you wanted Law to kiss you again, amongst other things. Fuck this is not what you should be thinking about right now. Not with him pressed firmly against you. Your head was spinning, you wonder if you could get him to kiss you if you claimed it was practice for…something. God no that was stupid, practice for what? A midnight kiss on New year's?

You were so lost in thought you didn't realize Law opened his eyes and was watching you mentally have a conversation with yourself. He didn't know what to say and clearly you didn't realize he was awake but he also didn't want to move. It was cold outside of the blanket and you were nice and warm. Law cleared his throat, snapping you back to reality.

"Oh God, how long have you been awake?"

"Long enough to know you're panicking about something, is it about the kiss?" Law was hoping you would say yes so he could say that maybe you guys needed to practice more to get comfortable. You know, to make it more believable and for absolutely no other reason.

On the other hand your inner voice was screaming to lie, DEAR GOD LIE, anything but the kiss but all you could do was stutter "N-no it's uh t-that's not. I, God, this is embarrassing but can you teach me to waltz?" Good, topic averted you could live another day. Law raised an eyebrow curiously and shifted to sit up "You've gotta be kidding me. You are a dance major!" You sat upright defending yourself. "Yeah, I'm trained in musical theater and Tap not ballroom!"

Law sighed in fake annoyance, at least this was an excuse to be close to you. As he keeps reminding himself he has self control but he still wanted to run some tests on how much your contact affects him. "It can't be helped. Did you pack a long dress or skirt with you?"

"Not really. Do you think Baby 5 or Monet would have? I mean worse case I could try on my new dress but I'd hate to ruin it before I get to wear it out."

Law choked, coughing to cover up his reaction knowing the only long dresses either of them have were maid outfits. "Yes they do."

You grabbed the heels Doffy gave you and made your way to Baby 5's room who gladly lent you a dress. With a sparkle in her eye she rushed to put it on you. She was so fast you didn't know it was a maid outfit until you looked in the mirror. She even managed to put the headpiece on you. You flushed at your reflection, you were so cute.

"Hey, Baby 5 have you seen (Y/N)-ya." You heard Law from outside the door before your eyes met he trailed off and froze. You smirked.

"Okaerinasai goshujin-sama~" you curtseyed for good measure, bowing your head slightly but continued to stare at Law. He used his hand to cover the lower half of his face as he turned around sharply. "If you have time to make jokes then you have time to practice." He started walking away to one of the many open rooms in the manor. You bounced to his side the four inch heels not slowing you down in the slightest. "Ooo~ did I strike a cord? Is your nose bleeding? Aw come on Law you can tell me I'm cute!" He pulled you in by the waist dipping you effortlessly, halting your teasing immediately as you stare into his eyes like a deer in headlights. "You're playing a dangerous game (Y/N)-ya" your heart was hammering in your chest. He had you literally swooning. This time Law smirked, satisfied with himself as he pulled you back upright.

As he explained how to waltz you realized you're an idiot. You do know how to waltz. Every pas de bourree, every step ball change was essentially a waltz. You ended up waltzing around the room as Law roasts you for not realizing sooner. The mockery fades away as Law lowers the hand on your back slightly pulling you in closer. You can feel your breath hitch. Since when was Law so nimble? You twirled with him effortlessly taken aback by how in sync you were with reading each other's movements. When he went in for the dip you were breathless, eyes half lidded Law wearing a similar expression. Just as he started leaning in to close the distance you heard a slow clap from the corner of the room breaking the spell you were seemingly under. You didn't realize you had an audience.

"Bravissima, such grace." Doflamingo complimented your performance. Despite Law tensing up you bow "Thank you." Now that he has your attention he stops clapping "I have business to attend to at Smile factory and was wondering if you wanted to show (Y/N) around the facility, maybe take the tour?"

Law turns to you "Do you want to see the over glorified build a bear?" You could tell he wanted you to say no but you'd rather jump ship than address your almost kiss from a few seconds ago.

"Sure, why not! Let me change first." You forced a laugh as you passed Doflamingo "Wouldn't want a maid running around the factory." You scampered off. Part of you thinks it was a bad idea to leave Law with him but it was too late to go back. You grabbed the first thing you saw and hurried back down.

When you joined the two, Law did a double take pulling his hat down once again. Doffy smiled at you and you both followed him out. You shot a quizzical look at Law as he gestured to what you were wearing. You didn't pay attention to what you grabbed, you just wanted something warm and comfy. You were wearing Law’s hoodie. Despite your blushing you remained composed "What it's warm and cozy."

Arriving at the factory you were surprised that Law wasn't kidding, it was just an over glorified build a bear. The tour consisted of you going to different parts of the factory to, by the end of it, complete your own toy. The idea was super cute so naturally you forced Law to sit through it. Other than the bear sewing pattern you had control over all the personal details of the bear and after staring at a certain grumpy surgeon you snickered to yourself. You chose a white bear, gave him real tired done with the world kind of eyes, with the staple dark rings underneath, a slight frown, and nearly matching tattoos. That's when Law gave you a disapproving glare "Really?" You only laughed. When you got to the voice box station you begged him to say something for the bear. Gave him big ol puppy dog eyes and everything but he continued to ignore you playing games on his phone. You snatched it from him and as he grabbed it back he shouted "Oi, (Y/N)-ya" before he realized his mistake. Now you were on to the clothing. You had to give him the surgeon's standard jeans, hoodie and the iconic hat. You contemplated putting a surgical mask and scalpel but decided against it opting for just his earring and it was perfect the way it was. You held it next to him and gave the bear a squeeze.

"Oi, (Y/N)-ya"

Law only rolled his eyes at you. You were very proud of yourself. You were hugging the bear for the rest of the day to the point where you could tell he was getting annoyed.

"Seriously?"

You snickered as you walked into the manor "What?"

"When are you going to stop hugging that thing?" Law grumbled as you joined the rest of his family in the living room. You hummed, glancing around the room deciding to play it up a bit. "Hmmm, dunno. Why is the real one jealous?" You elbowed him, not giving him time to answer as you sat down by Baby 5 and Sugar "So who's winning?"

"Lao G but we're playing by different rules. Lao G has to be first at all times. If you pass him you start over so the real winner is second place." Sugar explained while Baby 5 gasped "Did you make a little Law, that's so cute!"

You snuggled it into your face and heard Law suck his teeth in irritation "tsk" you know you're playing with fire but it was too fun. "I named him Trafalgrrr B. Water Paw, the B obviously stands for bear, but lil Law sounds good too." You kissed him on the nose for good measure and you could feel Law glaring daggers at you getting up from his seat. You giggled until you felt your chair tip back. You didn't have anytime to react as Law captured your lips with his. It only lasted for a second but it still flustered you. You were going to hug Lil Law again when you noticed he wasn't in your lap.

"Oi, (Y/N)-ya"

You snapped back at Law to see his smug ass expression holding the bear hostage "Shit it was a trap!" You hastily got out of your seat but he already disappeared upstairs.

Monet rolled her eyes "Again sickening."

—

You burst through the door to see Law reading on his bed. He looked up at you like nothing happened "What?" Your eyes dart around the room "You know what you did, that was a good trick by the way. Didn't think you had it in ya. Now where is he?"

Law put his book down and folded his arms across his chest, decidingly stalling "What's that supposed to mean."

"Well I have a natural flirty personality and you get all weird about pda." You started by looking under the bed. There weren't too many places he could hide the bear. "I don't get weird, I just don't understand how it's anyone's business." Law retorted going back to his book. You've looked through most of the room and you still haven’t located the bear you stare at Law. "Still didn't answer my question. Where's lil Law?" He didn't answer, just turned the page of his book. You filter through the drawers of his desk still kicking up dirt. You stare back at Law once more. "You're sitting on him." You accuse, trying to think of where else the bear could be. Standing at his side you were about to feel underneath the pillow he was laying on when he grabbed your wrist. "I knew it!" You tried to use your other hand but surprise surprise he grabbed your other wrist too. Desperate times call for desperate measures. You throw your leg over his lap straddling him. Trying to use your leverage to break your wrists free and feel behind him. It doesn't work. He's too strong; he turns the tables easily pinning you to the bed. You heard one knock and you both freeze as the door opens "Corazon says dinners ready." Sugar trails off before shouting "Oh God, my eyes lock the door next time!" She didn't even close the door before she ran off.

You laughed as Law rubbed his temples. He lived with a bunch of idiots he swears. It was only then that you realized the position you were in. "Honestly I don't know what they were expecting by bursting into the room after our show downstairs." Law murmured as he released his hold on you. That's right all of this was fake. None of this means anything. You shake the thought out of your head and carry on.

___

Chapter Navigation: [1] [2] [You are here] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]

[seoafin]

Bruvvvv, nobody come after me please but i am in fact a proud virgin Gojo truther and i will stand by it! Virgin Gojo who's not innocent at all that you wouldn't actually even see it coming even after you've done it with him? The fact that he can do anything he tries... bye

Anyways, i just wanna brainrot here a bit because you're lovely and your takes are always correct. I know for a fact that that man doesn't know how to properly handle touch, he's touch starved and is cynical about intimacy, unless it just so happens to be with someone he loves and trusts, yes yes, friends that are lovers i will forever treasure this ok? I've seen your fic where he and reader did it at age of 23 and it all came crashing down on me, it makes sense??? Like this can be interpreted in so many ways and i love how you openly leave it like that unlike some fics which almost always have to mention how Gojo was fucking around 🙄 -- anyway, i love how he was playing it cool and laughing, making lighthearted atmosphere, this is Gojo afterall, he is smug, and confident and has every right to be but internally?? He's burning, and only focused on giving reader the pleasure, he just couldn't bear doing it with anyone that he didn't know properly and was finally glad to be able to do something he wanted to in like forever. Again he's confident, but he also wants to make sure she feels good no matter what, all those interal combustions are being hidden and played by his light comments, questions, jokes. So she practically could never even guess it, but even if she later found out, she wouldn't find it that surprising.

With all that said i just wanna add a mini-analysis here based on my understanding and interpretation of Gojo.

So i don't think that he would openly wanna show this side of him to just anyone, sure he appreciates beauty and all but i think he draws the line somewhere, plus, the fact that connection and love is actually important to this man, yeah no, i simply don't see him fooling around like that with anyone, he afterall doesn't do anything without a reason. If anything i think that in hs he probably explored the topic but got embarassed af and Shoko was making fun of him for trying to sound lewd on the account of his lacking experience lmaooo also there's no way Gojo could even get a girl remotely interested in anything firsthand before she turns tail and leave while Geto was scoring

So yeah, he needs a form of closeness and a bond before anything, also i briefly talked about this in the previous ask but i like to think that he and reader got back onto it a few times after aswell because why not? they do love each other after all, platonic or romantic or both? who th cares!

Conclusion: Virgin Gojo & Chad Geto <3 <3 <3

I appreciate you for leaving people to interpretate these how they want, though in truth i stand by this one the most because it makes sense to me the most heheh 🥰

FRIENDS TO LOVERS FRIENDS TO LOVERS FRIENDS TO LOVERS>>>>>> aka morgan's favorite favorite trope. it is also the reason why i neither like nor can write enemies to lovers (i can read it tho but it needs to be done excellently)

honestly as someone who slides between either he's a virgin or he probably does it once a while w/ a fwb (stress reliever + gojo's ability to detach himself from people and situations) i would rather just leave it up to whatever people want to think LOL a part of me also thinks gojo would have done it once for the novelty of it all in hs and then never again bc geto leaving crushed his heart 💔. but also i am so soft for friends to lovers and ppl having their firsts with someone they trust and love bc of the intimacy involved it's just soooooooooo *chef's kiss

shoko WOULD make fun of loser virgin gojo. shoko is getting numbers and dates. shoko is more popular than gojo AND geto combined just like she deserves.

[softboywriting]

Sunflower | Nathan Bateman | Ex Machina

Summary: You’re the opposite of everything Nathan is, and he adores you. [fluff][female!readerxNathan] [Plus size/curvy Reader] [Mild NSFW themes] [Light love at first sight trope] 

Word Count: 1.8k

|Masterlist In Bio|

The day you walked into the living area of the facility Nathan knew you were going to change his life. From the sunshine yellow dress to the neon orange luggage, your soft round thighs in bumble bee striped tights and your round face beaming at him from behind a pair of round glasses. Everything about you was the opposite of everything he knew and loved. Nathan was a man of simple things, neutral and natural tones, quiet and practical. How had you managed to end up here? Well. To put it simply you were the top programmer in the Blue Book internship and Nathan had noticed your work almost immediately. He wanted to meet you. How better than to allow you a month long internship with himself?

The first week provided much information for him. You liked to talk. You liked to share. You liked to touch. Oh the first time you touched Nathan he just about went berserk. It was nothing inappropriate, just a simple arm touch. But Nathan had been so starved for human affection it just about short circuited his brain. Not to mention you're the most adorable, beautiful, dorky woman he's ever met. You're so very much the opposite of everything he ever thought he wanted. You're perfect.

"Good morning." You say as you walk into his lab on the dawn of the second week. You've made yourself comfortable, familiar with everything he does. "No sleep?"

"Few hours." Nathan looks up from his work table and raises his eyebrows. "That's a new dress."

"It is. I wasn't sure if I'd like it. I got it before I left and I thought maybe it was too short." You pull down the back a bit. It sits just above mid thigh but your butt makes it lift a bit higher. "I think it's okay?"

"Turn?"

You turn around slowly and Nathan hums. "It's too revealing isn't it?"

"No, I like it." He smirks and you flush hard. "Don't tell me you didn't wear that on purpose. I know you're not that shy."

"Of course I wore it on purpose, I picked it out."

"You know I meant for me." Nathan sets his work aside and circles the end of the table to stand before you.

You swallow hard and he looks at you over his glasses. "What? Stop staring at me."

He hums. "You're hard not to stare at in a bright red dress. I feel so distracted. How ever will I work?"

"Maybe get your head out of your ass?"

"Oh you know I like when you talk dirty." He teases and you shove his chest making him giggle. This is how it's been since day one. Nathan made sure of that. He said fuck the employee employer relationship and just be people. Just be two people hanging out and doing cool shit. It wasn't too hard. You and him have a lot of the same type of humor and thought processes. Teasing came naturally.

"What am I doing today? Coding something? Programming some wetware?"

Nathan looks over at his work table. "I've got something else to do. Let's take a day off."

"A day off? I'm an intern. I don't really get days off. I'm supposed to-"

"Yeah yeah." He raises his hand to cut you off. "I wanna watch a movie with you."

"That doesn't take all day."

"A few movies." He takes your hand and pulls you along to the hall. "I'll even make dinner later. Lunch first and some breakfast. Whatever. We'll snack or something."

"Is this a date? Nathan, are you asking me on a date?"

Nathan looks back sheepishly. "Maybe?"

"How long has it been since you went out with someone?"

"A while."

"I figured." You thread your fingers into his. "Usually people ask each other out on a date, not just say they're gonna go on one with them."

"Right." Nathan spins you around with your guidance and you giggle. "What are you doing?"

"Dunno, just wanted to see if you'd spin me."

"You're so strange." He pulls you in and your heart stops as you press against his chest. Suddenly you're nervous because surely he can feel your tummy against him. He's so fit and you're not nearly as such. "Would you mind if I ask you on a date?"

"You're sure?"

"I don't mince my words, you know that."

"I mean even though I'm not like...your AI?"

Nathan looks confused. "What?"

"You make them how you prefer women right? Skinny? Small chest?"

"Oh, oh I see." He lays his hand on your arm, thumb rubbing just under the sleeve of your dress. "Let me tell you a secret."

"Uh huh?"

"I make them like that not because it's what I prefer, but because it's easier to fit the synthetic skin on the body frames. Sure I could make the frames larger but I don't need to because they're just prototypes based on a standard human muscular and bone structure and I use them for parts when I decommission them. It's easier to reuse the same size parts over and over. My finished product will come in all sizes."

You nod. "So, you still wanna date me, or rather go on a date with me?"

"I'd like to do much more than that but one step at a time." He chuckles and pulls away from you. "We'll start with breakfast and a movie. Deal?"

"Deal."

___________________

Another week passes and you're not sure where along the lines you went from internship to relationship with Nathan. All you know is that in a week you're supposed to leave, return to your life in New York and right now you're laid out on his bed while he works at his computer a few feet away.

You shift, the soft sheets slide against your bare skin. It feels so good, warm and safe. Nathan even has the lights down low, the tint on the windows set to evening mode. It seems to be early morning, the sun just barely rising.

"You're up early."

Nathan turns and looks at you, stretching his legs out. He's got on a pair of shorts and that's all. "Good morning, Sunflower."

"Sunflower?" You giggle. "That's my new nickname?"

"Absolutely."

"I don't hate it."

"Good." He turns back to his computer. "Go back to sleep. It's too early for you."

You stretch and curl into his pillow. "Come back to bed with me. You look exhausted."

"I'm working."

"I'm cold."

He scoffs. "No you're not, the bed is heated."

You huff softly. "Nathan, I'm only here one more week. You shouldn't waste time."

That gets him to stop. He doesn't turn but just stares at the screen.

"What's wrong?"

Then he turns and crawls on the bed, lifting the blankets to get in with you. He doesn't stop until he's on top of you, holding himself up on his elbows, knees bracketing your hips.

You run a hand over his short buzzed hair. It's so soft. "Use your words Nathan."

"One week?"

"Mmhmm. I'm only supposed to be here until the fifteen of this month."

"Do you want to stay longer?"

"Do you want me to?"

Nathan drops his head to your shoulder, kissing down until he's mouthing at the soft flesh above your boob. "I definitely don't want you to leave yet. I'm not done exploring."

"So I'm an experiment now?" You giggle as he presses his nose between your boobs, pushing them up with his hands.

He hums. "Maybe. If I were doing an experiment in falling hard and fast for a woman who is my polar opposite."

"Are you serious?" You grab his face and pull him up to look at you. "Nathan, do you really like me that much?"

"It kills me how much I like you. I thought maybe it was just because I haven't been with anyone or even been around someone in a long time. Maybe that still is part of it, but I can't get enough of you. You're so sweet, and smart and cute."

You pull him close and kiss him softly. "Everyone told me you were a hardass, a real stuck up piece of shit. That I shouldn't take this internship, that your last intern went home in tears. So you must really really like me."

"Well that's not very nice." He ducks his head and kisses along your shoulder to bury his face into your boobs again. "I do really like you though. I like your soft skin, and your soft tummy." He pushes your boobs up, filling both hands. "And these tits. Fuck I love them." He latches on to your left nipple with his lips and you squirm. After a moment he releases you and crawls lower, kissing down your chest as his beard tickles your skin. "I like your bright clothes and your soft hands and your sweet pu-"

"Nathan!"

"Yes, Sunflower?" He looks up, kissing gently along your bare navel.

You push the blanket back to expose him to the cool room. "Promise me that you want me to stay."

"I promise." He moves back up and lays his cheek on your boob and rubs his beard against it. His weight against your body is warm, comforting as he settles into you. "I want you to stay with me and be a part of the greatest thing I've ever made. I want you to stay and make me think, make me question everything I thought I knew."

"You're such a softie."

"Just for you. Everyone else can fuck off."

"That sounds more like the Nathan I first met."

He grabs the blanket and pulls it back over his head before taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking hard. His beard tickles against your skin again and you squeal, squirming under his affection. "Did I mention I love these?" He mutters and you hum in response.

"Only every time you touch them."

"Can't let these babies go." Nathan changes to your other nipple and you arch up against him. "So responsive." He looks up from under the blankets and you take his glasses off, setting them on the pillows above your head. "You should be proud of these."

"They weren't my favorite until you got ahold of them honestly."

He clicks his tongue. "They're nothing short of perfect."

You shove his face and he laughs, resting his head against your chest once more. "You seem tired. Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Not much. Couldn't get my mind to settle down."

You rub over his soft short hairs, massing along his temple. "Then let's sleep together. You don't have to worry about me leaving in a week. We've got all the time in the world to build AI. Close your eyes and go to sleep."

Nathan nuzzles his face against you, sighing softly. "My soft Sunflower."

"Mmm all yours."

"All mine."

end 

---------

Header by delicate-venus

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you read or enjoyed and support content creators like myself - A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

[chipper-smol]

Vanilla 1 Chain

Prompt: The Aftermath of Ghost banishing the Grimm Troupe from the Troupe’s perspective.

lAST ONE!

( https://twitter.com/BerryCannibal )

Grimm let out a hum as he danced with himself, going through yet another imaginary routine as he allowed his thoughts to drift. The tent was unusually quiet without Brumm around - he was still surprised that his worried conduit had offered to take up a torch and pass out some of the scarlet flame this time around, perhaps he was finally warming up to the ritual? - allowing the perfect space for him to practice his final audience with The Pale King’s vessel.

He chuckled to himself at the memory of that wyrm... Always so frazzled, with his thoughts scattered all about, never in one place. He never did get to teach that fool how to relax before he up and disappeared, leaving this kingdom to be ravaged by Her incurable sickness. What a shame...

He was just coming out of a twirl when he felt a sharp pain in his chest. His knees buckled. He fell. Where were the Grimmkin when he needed them?

Letting out a faint growl, he tried to get back onto his feet as he clutched his- His... He looked down to where his hand was ​supposed ​to be touching the smooth, red carapace of his chest, horrified at the sight that greeted him. An open wound, leaking with bright, scarlet flame where the heart of any normal bug was supposed to be located. It was only after that first moment of shock that the pain set in.

Collapsing to the ground once more, Grimm let out a roar of misery and shock and anguish and pure, unfiltered ​agony​. It felt as if the fires that once kept him fed and warm as a child was now burning him up from the inside, taking every part of his body with them. Under his claws he felt his body coming apart, leaving less and less shell to grip on to as he was consumed by what once kept him alive. ​What was happening? This was not how the ritual went. This was not ​supposed ​to happen-

~ Curtains closed. Lights out. Our lead actor has disappeared. ~

Grimm jerked up into a sitting position, breath laboured and raspy as he clutched his chest. It was solid now. Ok. He wasn’t dead, at least. The legacy didn’t end with him as he had feared when... Wait.

He glanced around the room, feeling his metaphorical heart sink when he saw the stitched-together crimson and plum and wine-coloured fabrics that covered the floor, the ever-gently pulsing veins, the scarlet, firelit lanterns... He wasn’t in the physical realm anymore, he quickly realized.

Rolling over, he grabbed a small hand mirror from beside the bed, frantically checking his physical appearance. The ritual hadn’t failed, had it? No. It was still going if the coal colouring of his crescent-shaped horns was anything to go by. Then that must’ve meant...

Oh. Oh, that ​traitor.​

Grimm could feel a growl bubbling up from his chest as he considered what might’ve happened. He must’ve tried to stop the ritual ​early,​ perhaps even tried to ​kill​ the troupe as a whole by banishing them back to the dream realm. He must’ve manipulated Grimms poor co-actor in this important play into following him, they seemed so glad to help out with the ritual, after all...

Wait. The ritual. The child. Where was the child? Why hadn’t it called out to him yet? Where was the child?

Frantically, and yet gently, he began searching through the satin sheets of the bed he had woken up in. If the child wasn’t dead, it had to be there somewhere, right? Right? Ri- Ah. There it was...

He carefully picked up the limp grimmchild, studying it for a moment. It worried him how he could only barely see it’s chest move, and it wasn’t chirping or making any other kind of noise at him like it usually would, even in its sleep. Not that one could truly sleep in the dream realm.

“My child...” He rasped, quietly, holding it close to his chest, still feeling the gentle pulse of fire inside it. It was still alive, that much was true, but it would not remain that way for long at this stage of the ritual. It would need more flame, and quickly, but finding it could be difficult without his grimmkin to scour the vast wastelands between kingdoms for something worthy of the presence of the troupe in its entirety. Sighing, he cradled his child close as he sat for a long moment in hopelessness, considering his options.

“Marintide...” A voice murmured in his mind, the rasp undoubtedly belonging to The Nightmare King himself.

Right. Of course. They had received another call while performing their ritual in Hallownest. The other kingdom was far geographically, but travelling large distances had never been

much of a problem for the troupe. But then again, the troupe hadn’t been in this situation for several centuries. Last time they were banished was way back in-

A soft cough and whine of complaint sounded from the starving child. Right. Best not to dwell on that with a starving grimmchild in his arms.

Slowly, Grimm laid back down on the satin bed, still holding the child close to his chest as he focused on the brief glimpses he had been given of the kingdom when they had received their call. He admittedly struggled a little with remembering the less interesting details, such as the dying corals and thick bramble forests, but he managed none the less.

--

Waking up on cold, hard stone was not a welcome experience, but it was the best way to tell that they had arrived. Huffing as he got up, Grimm took a moment to look around. Without the Grimmkin to go before him and set up a comfortably warm tent, he was immediately exposed to the cold breeze coming in from the ocean and the sight of the beautifully ruined architecture that once was this great kingdom.

The stone beneath his feet was a brilliant cobalt blue, and he could see the sunlight reflecting off something gold in the distance. Sunlight? Ah. An aboveground kingdom, then. Something that looked like a lighthouse of sorts was off in the distance as well, just barely visible if he squinted through the gleam of gold from fallen pillars and monuments. The sun was glinting off the sea as well, the water so reflective that he almost missed the large, pale form that smoothly broke the surface and went back under in the same movement. A seawyrm, perhaps. He had been told of these before, though he couldn’t recall much...

Shaking his head to clear his mind of thought and clutching the grimmchild closer still, he made his way through the ruins towards the woods he had seen. Extracting flame from living creatures was a painful process for both him and the second party, but in this case, it would have to be done. The Grimm lineage would not end with him.

Stepping into the woods, there was immediate rustling to his left. He barely had time to think before a large, hunter-esque creature had him pinned to the ground, teeth bared, ready to end him.

He remained calm, though, reaching up and firmly placing his open palm over its eyes as he focused, sending into a deep, nightmare-ridden sleep... Sighing, Grimm nudged the large creature off of him, finally untucking the grimmchild from his cape. His expression quickly dropped when he saw the state they were in, flopping over limply in his hands instead of flying up and readily feasting on the nightmares of the sleeping hunter.

This was bad. This was really bad.

Quickly, he crouched down by the sleeping hunter, carefully placing his child upon their head. “Sorry about this...” He murmured, though he knew his apology would never be heard, though he knew there was no forgiveness to be had for what he was about to do.

Then, he started chanting.

The words that spilt from his lips made the fire inside him roar back to life. It was painful, but he had to endure. For his child. For the troupe. He gritted his teeth together to keep himself from screaming, wanting so dearly not to distress his child...

“Ngahhh...”

Grimm glanced up at the noise, finally stopping his chanting, smiling when he saw his child just as lively as ever. But...

He brought his hand up, gently touching his left horn, quickly finding a large patch missing, replaced by openly roaring scarlet fire. He was weakening, he realized, tucking the child close once more. They would need to finish the ritual soon. He’d just need to find Brumm so-

Right. Brumm wasn’t part of the troupe anymore. That traitor.

He didn’t have a conduit now. And he didn’t have a helper either. As sure as he was that he could get the vessel to meet him outside Hallownest, the banishment ritual would not allow him within several miles of the place.

He’d have to wait.

Slowly wasting away into a fire ghost, he’d have to wait.

He’d be willing to make that sacrifice for his child, yes.

He’d keep them alive and safe until a proper ritual could be conducted again, or until he finally grew unable to help it and it’d have to starve.

He just hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

( donotgogently )

( @wasabi-arts​ )

Grimm pets the small creature in his arms, looking over Dirtmouth from the cliff. “What a shame for our little friend to abandon you in such a place,” he cooed, starting his descent down king’s pass, “ and a place so dangerous and cold. To think that vessel didn't even bring you back to our Trope.” The child purred in his arms, content with the situation despite the abandonment.

The trek back to the troupe wasn’t long, and Grimm made his way into the tent. “Good evening, Master.” Brumm said, already offering to take the torch from Grimm’s hands, surprised by the sight of the child, as well as Grimm’s damaged horn. “Master, why do you hold the child? And may I ask what happened to your right horn?” Grimm simply smiled at Brumm, dismissing Brumm’s second question while petting the child. “I hate to admit such a circumstance, but I do believe our little visitor has abandoned the child. Brumm was silent for a moment, looking at the child. He didn’t like the idea of Grimm dying for the sake of a ritual, and would much rather let the ritual die. At least for a bit longer, if it must continue.

“Why do you think they abandoned it?” Brumm asked, curious. “The traveler seems attached to it.” With a thoughtful nod from Grimm, he pet the child once more to hear it purr. “Maybe it has something to do with the roar heard earlier?”

“Roar?” Grimm asked, cocking his head with curiosity. “I heard no such thing.”

Brumm was surprised at this comment, stopping his music at the thought. “But Master, the roar was quite loud. It rattled the tents of our troupe and the homes of this here town. The bug near the bench described it as something akin to a cry.”

“I see...”

Grimm looked out of the tent in the direction of the crossroads. The abandoned Vessel of the Pale King himself had likely gone down below, Grimm thought. That ​was the location of the black egg that the king set up long ago to contain the infection. And since The Knight was a vessel themself, that is likely where they went.

“I don't think we’ll see them for a while, my dear Brumm.” The child snored in his arms. “May I ask why not?” “Well, do believe our small friend has gone to fight the creature inside the

crossroads.” “...”

Brumm looked back at Grimm’s shattered horn. “Master,”he asked,resuming his music,”May I ask what happened to your horn?”

Grimm turned away from the tent’s entrance to face Brumm.

“Ah, I almost forgot.” He stated, touching the broken spot with his hand.”I had gotten into a bit of a scuffle with the creatures up in the cliffs trying to obtain the child.” The spot hurt, yes, however Grimm paid it no mind. It was merely a minor injury, he was far more concerned about the child in his arms.

“Well, Brumm, we should take care of the child in the knight’s absence, hm?”

Brumm nodded in agreement. “I do think we should take care of your injury too, Master.”

( @ouliarts​ )

( @null-icon )

It is the dead of night and the big top is quiet with the whispers of a phantomly audience. Your Master had told you to keep watch before he had rushed out in a hurry - the fastest you’ve seen him move outside of performance - but it is still the same dark, dreary town at the base of the looming cliffs off to the left. Winds still whipped about and crept underneath the tent fabrics, the scarlet haze of an ethereal presence flickers with the chill, and with a rumbling sigh gathered from the depths of your chest, you reach behind you to pull out your trusty accordions and begin to play a slow melody from something beyond your time as a Troupe member. It’s a delicate number though sharp and stuttered even to your skilled hands, suggesting that the you of another lifetime had not gotten to learn it well, but you are alone with your thoughts and the mumble of an uncaring audience so you practice and improvise in hopes of making it something worth playing for someone beyond deserving.

The tent flaps flutter open long after you’ve sat down with your legs crossed and your instrument falls silent. The winds outside had gotten stronger, but it was hardly an observation relevant when shortly after the flaps are sealed you feel your fur near singing from the blast of furious heat. Where you previously would have no need to look up at the looming figure that storms past, you can’t help but to draw your gaze upon him. His stance is proud and he glides elegantly through the entrance chamber, nodding to you his curt greeting as he adjusts something under his thin cloak. You would have assumed nothing was off if he wasn’t radiating the hellish heat of his rage, and when he exited into the main ring, one of the heads of his curving black horns snapped clean off bleeding an otherworldly vermillion that trickled into his wiry fabrics.

Sometime when the sun should have broken over the peaks, you decide to pay your Master a visit, your curiosity and concern uncharacteristically getting the best of you. You don’t get much more than a few strides into his secluded part of the big top when the maroon walls shudder despite his quiet rasp, “I do not believe I summoned you, Brumm.” 

“Mmmrr… So it may be. You are not well.”

“Is that so? What makes you question my state of being? What is it you find in the need to bother my rest?”

“The tent still simmers with your anger. My sight did not deceive me when I spotted your-” You are interrupted when the soft grizzle sounds, the pale pink of small irises blinking through where your Master is concealed. “... If that is all you dare approach me for, be on your way, Brumm. You have disturbed me, and now my child. Let us sleep.”

“Have you bandaged yourself, Master?” The hesitance you are greeted with tells you all you need to know, and you go digging in your fur for the roll of fabric you sew onto the shreds of your patchy sleeves. “Mmmh. Let me cover the wound, then I will leave.”

“I do not remember giving you permission.” “I do not require it for this.” Grimm uncovering himself enough for cat-like eyes to stare into your mask is simply affirmation to your statement. His horn had stopped oozing, now simply glowing dimly, but still you settle beside him to begin carefully swathing his horn in gray linen. “Did you fight, Master?” “Yes.”

“What for?” “My child. You must understand, the child is the future of this troupe. Of us.”

“Hrm. Why was the Grimmchild beyond the big top?”

“I do not know, Brumm, but it does not matter. Our caller approaches us soon, and the ritual will soon begin. That is what’s most important.” After the timbre of his voice falls out, you have nothing left to say and so you shift the rest of your energy into securing the wrap you have now made. “It will grow back, but thank you regardless, Brumm.” And when you turn to leave as promised, Grimm speaks up again. 

“Will you play me a song, musician?”

( https://twitter.com/Heck_Yena )

( tfwhynot)

The troupe was always on the move. When the ritual wasn’t in the picture they, for the most part, had to travel the old fashion way. The tents could be instantly packed and unpacked with a snap of Grimm’s fingers, coming in and out of the Nightmare realm with ease. The Grimmkin were a similar story, though they themselves were in control of which realm they were in at any time. It was the more unique bugs that couldn’t though, Brumm, Divine, and the Grimmsteads were anchored to the waking realm.

Grimm led the caravan on a wagon all his own. It held everything he needed to plan, maps, lists of supplies they had or needed, and written plans for performances of future and past. Brumm followed in the wagon behind. It carried all the other things that didn’t originate from the nightmare heart; containing currencies from lands of all sorts. Things to trade away for other things they may need or want, rations of food and water, and nicknacks collected for sentimental purposes.  In the very back, the strongest and most loyal steed followed, wheeling Divine’s wagon with them. Jars of the various substances she excreted were stashed, herbs, and remedies, each with their own uses.

Brumm’s music floated around the caravan, the familiar tunes of his accordion helping fight off complete boredom. Grimmkin popped in and out, joking and chatting among themselves. The newest of them excited to be on the road again, the long darkness to come not quite setting in on them yet.

The road they traveled slowly grew rough, the wagon wheels bouncing slightly on the rocks that were sprinkled across the road. Two mountains off in the distance came into view, a thin and winding path was carved through, old and uncared for; it was made a mess by time. It had been made by a kingdom long gone and forgotten. 

He waved down a few Kin that was chatting above him, “Explore the hills we are to tread,” He rasped out, “Report any dangers or curiosities you come across.” They nodded and dashed off, nothing but a rapidly disappearing blaze of scarlet fire left behind.

Time passed as Grimm waited, the steed pulling his wagon huffed at them, silently asking to rest soon. The road was still uneven, each wagon still bouncing off the occasional rock, tilting to and fro at the uneven path.

The Grimmkin still hadn’t returned as the wagons began to pull through the mountains. The walls of rock were high on each side, holes were mirrored on each side. A few old corpses could barely be seen, legs and arms of bugs both wild and sentient lay idle, their chests gaping open, innards long eaten by what lived here. He placed a hand on the child’s back where they were curled by his side in worry. They murmured in their sleep, still so small and weak. It’d be a while till the next ritual.

The walls were close together, they only just let the wagons pass without the worry of scraping the sides. There was no way to turn around once the caravan walked past the entrance, let alone run the other way if something happened.

“The path through should be short,” Grimm thought, “We’ll stop for rest and food on the other side,” he waved down more kin, a dozen more than last time, “If something happens we can deal with it,” He instructed them to carry torches and light the path, and most importantly, report back if they saw something, “We’ll always make it through.”

Music seeped through the artificial canon, echoing through the caves along each side. The old familiar tune felt uneasy, the vague feeling of nervousness permeating through the troupe enough to effect Brumm. The steeds began to slow, the sounds of their marching quieting as they pushed through the fatigue encasing their shells.

A puff of red smoke and a small novice was sitting beside Grimm. Their shrill and panicked voice woke the child, their words were spoken quickly, half slurred together, and hard to understand.

A sharp scree cut through all the noise, leaving a deafening quiet in its wake.

The Grimmkin immediately started to panic, “That’s the noise! Tha-”

A kin was slammed against the wall with a loud crack, their shell breaking on impact as a creature dug into them, shredding their garments as they fell, the Grimmkin wailing.

Jumping up Grimm tossed the reins to a nightmare kin. As he got on top of the wagon another scree rang out; the grimkin this time successfully dodging. Brumm’s wagon shook as the creature collided with it, the steed leading it letting out a panicked whimper.

The creature hissed on the ground, mandibles and legs flailing as for a moment before righting itself. It crouched down, ready to strike again when the wheels of Divine’s cart rolled over, only pinning it at first,  the steed struggling to pull over the living speedbump. A squeak and a squelch and their rigid shell shattered, Divine letting out a startled yelp as the wheel suddenly dropped back to ground level.

Another screech, Grim immediately aimed to intercept it when yet another rang out. 

It was like a domino effect, one after another after another screaming before leaping at the caravan. Grimm dashed, intercepting as many as he could before they hit, the air was just as full of fire as it was the creature as the kin attempted to help kill their attackers.

Still more kept coming, “Take them through as fast as possible,” Grimm barked at the nightmare leading them.

“Master?” Brumm called out, worry lacing his voice as much as panic.

“I’ll meet up with you on the other side, just go!”

They didn’t need to be told twice, the steeds immediately attempting to move as fast as their tired legs could carry them. 

Flinging himself into the air Grim puffed up with a loud scream, doing his best to draw all of their attention. Fire flung from around him, lighting the small canyon with fire. 

It worked, the beasts focusing on the largest threat. The wagons now having to deal with fewer things under their wheels could actually hurry, fear coursing through the steeds giving them new energy. The sound of Grimm’s fight growing more and more distant till it was nothing but an echo on the other side.

Once out the steeds couldn’t go any further if they tried. Their shells heaved as they drew breath, legs shaking as they unhitched themselves, collapsing on the ground with exhaustion. They huffed at the kin who immediately checked on them, shaking any attempts to get them to stand up, just wanting to be left alone.

With a grunt Brumm hopped out of the cart, afraid of what he might see. 

It looked like the fuckers had attempted to burrow through the wagons. Shallow divots in the repurposed shells that made the walls and ceilings were spread across all the wagons. 

He made his way to the front, seeing the nightmare doing their best to comfort Grimmchild as they cried.

“Mrmmm. Is the child hurt?”

They shook their head no, rubbing their back as they clung to the kin, “scared and worried for their father, but completely unharmed,” they rumbled.

Brumm nodded as he looked to the other kin. A few quickly busied themselves but most were unsure, not knowing what to do without instruction from the master. No one could properly hunker down for the night without him and there wasn’t really a second in command for situations like this.

“Try and get some to start repairs on the wagons,” Brumm told the nightmare. He shifted in place trying to figure out what to do, he wasn’t a leader, he hated giving directions to others. There was a reason he was the only musician, as the sole bug who composed the music he just could never direct others to play something right.

Walking back to Divine he could hear her talking, her airy voice louder and sharper than usual.

“Aaaah! Where’s the master? He said he’d meet us! I can’t smell him here! Where is he?” The kin outside her wagon shrugged.

“Mrmmm. How are you fairing Divine?” Brumm asked, already knowing the answer.

“Aaaahhhhh! Just terribly! What are we supposed to do? The master said he’d be here!”

“All we can do is wait. Master will come with time.”

Divine hissed in worry, she shifted and wiggled as much as she could, “But couldn’t he just puff back in any second? Why isn’t he here!” Her face was in a deep frown, something no one saw often, it made her smiling mask half look out of place and strange.

“Mrmmm. He may still be trying to buy time, he can’t see how far we are.”

“Aaahhhhh! But what if! What if…” She trailed off, not wanting to say what she thought. If she said it, what if it came true?

“Impossible, it’s never happened before. He’ll return. Master may come back hurt, but he will come back.” Brumm reassured.

Divine still wasn’t sure about that but dropped it, “What are we supposed to do till he comes back?”

“Mrmm,” Brumm had to think for a moment, “I don’t know. I’ll start getting food ready I guess. Keep medical supplies at the ready when he returns.”

“Ahh… But what am I supposed to do? I’ll worry myself into knots if I don’t do something!”

“You can watch the child. The nightmare caring for them now has more important things they can do. Just make sure they’re calm, try to get them to sleep.” Divine nodded at Brumm and he set off to try and put things together. 

As time passed though Brumm couldn’t stop worry from clouding his head. He kept a bag of medical supplies on him while he cooked while doing his best to focus on the task at hand, making a basic soup from what they had. Though the spot they were at wasn't the best, the kin were able to find a river, grabbing buckets to add to the cauldron and give to the steeds. There wasn’t any promise of something that tasted amazing but everyone would appreciate having something in their stomachs for now.

There was little conversation as food was passed around. Not even the novices, often cheerful and mischievous, found it in them to crack jokes. Brumm at least took the chance to fully get what damages were. The wheels would need to be replaced, many cracks and deformations from the blasted things would make it risky to set off too soon, they’d need some material to make some final repairs but the wagons were still okay enough that there wasn’t worry of them falling apart or rain seeping through, the steeds were tired and a bit scratched up but would be okay with rest, and while a few Grimmkin had been lost the majority were okay, shaken up, but okay.

The tents appeared in a flash, faster and more sudden than Brumm had seen in a long time. It was almost dizzying, everyone having to be moved and placed within different rooms.

“Master!” Brumm realized. He had to find him, figure out what happened, make sure he was okay.

Where was he even? A quick turn around and he was in the main stage with a few other confused kin, a few mourning over dropping their meal in their daze.

Master’s room, Grimm had to be there. He was quick to shuffle as best as he could in the darkened stage. 

“Master?” Brumm called.

“Come in Brumm.” 

Brumm tentatively moved the curtain, peering in. His mast was sprawled out on a fainting couch. 

“Master! Your horn-”

“I know Brumm, it looks worse than it feels.” 

Brumm couldn’t believe that. One of Grimm’s horns had been torn off, the thick shell left was jagged and cracked around it. The soft flesh within weeping blood now that it was exposed. 

Grimm had been injured before but this… This had never happened. Maybe a crack or scratch, but even during the ritual Brumm had never seen a piece of Grimm torn off.

“You-You need to get that cleaned immediately!” Brumm moved closer, trying his best to see if there was anything else.

Grimm chuckled, “I haven’t heard you order someone around in a long time.”

That made Brumm freeze, “I… Mrmm. I’m sorry master that wasn’t my intent.”

Finally, Grimm turned to face him, “There is no need to apologize, my friend, I was only teasing.”

Grimm had a tired smile, blood slowly winding its way down the side of his face. There were a few other scratches and cuts, small tears in his cloak, but nothing nearly as bad as his horn.

“I’m just glad everyone is okay,” He turned back looking down to what Brumm could now see was the Grimmchild. They rested their head on their father's arm, purring softly as Grimm’s other hand lightly scratched their head.

“Please master, let me dress your wounds. Even if it’s not as bad as you say it still needs to be taken care of soon rather than later.”

Grimm looked back at Brumm, seeing him fidget with worry, “Very well.”

He shifted into a better position, sitting upright with his cloak completely out of the way, much to the complaint of Grimmchild. Grimm shushed them as Brumm moved in front of him. Even sitting on a couch this low to the ground Grim was still at eye level with Brumm.

Brumm had to take a deep breath to calm his nerves as he pulled out supplies to clean his master, “Mrmm. This is probably going to sting,” he warned. 

He poured a cleaning acid on a clean towel, it wasn’t strong enough to do much more than sting, but it still cleaned. He carefully dabbed at the wound, waiting to see if there was any reaction. Grimm’s eye twitched slightly but he kept calm as Brumm thoroughly cleaned his head. 

Placing the used rag aside, pulling a large pair of tweezers out. Grimm bowed his head slightly, allowing Brumm easier access. Carefully Brumm pulled bits of shell that had embedded themself in the wound. Grimm huffing as a large piece, roughly the size of a piece of geo, was taken out.

After cleaning it again Brumm placed a layer of protective shell over it, a large circular disk of shell cleaned and cut to help cover a wound till it healed so nothing got in. It was a bit big but it did the job. With some adhesive strips, it was secured.

Brumm stepped back, “It’s done, master. Mrmm.”

That same tired smile from before appeared again, “Thank you for caring for me, my friend. Tell me, was the rest of the troupe okay?”

“Yes, a few kin were lost but given some time to rest everyone will be okay. The wagons will likely need to be replaced soon though.”

Grimm nodded, “Rest, that certainly sounds nice. Would the troupe be okay if I rested for now?”

“Mrm. I believe so, though it would be a good idea to talk to everyone and address what happened.”

“Of course, of course,” Grim, let out a slow sigh, looking down as the child got comfortable again. “Could you leave me to rest then?”

Brumm nodded silently and left. As he lifted the curtain he turned again, taking one final look at his master. He was too tired to hang as he usually slept, instead opting to curl around the child on the fainting couch.

“Rest well master.”

( @kiwikoala​ )

( @vibeseeker​ ) 

Crimson flames slowly licked up the draping curtains, draining away all color except the ocean of red that surrounded the young king and the visage of the ever beating Nightmare Heart. The ever present silence within the realm was only pierced by the steady thump of the constantly beating object, joined soon by the child's own pulse.

That is until a sharp crack echoed through the red hued abyss, quickly following the noise the growing troupe master had been blinded by a bright light. He quickly beat his wings in an adrenaline fueled struggle to wipe away the blazing heat that seared into his retinas, only to be met by a new presence that felt somewhat familiar. However the very energy called out to him, drawing him to cautiously approach.

"So I see the mewling cub shows its strength, choosing to find me within my own realm," The figure slightly turned and with a snap set their hand alight with a crimson flame, unveiling the form of the Nightmare King "It's almost cute, though that won't prove you as a worthy enough vessel alone."

"I... I just... I wasn't trying too..." Grimmchild nervously spoke as he pushed off the larger beings baited words, fanning out his wings and drifting to the floor below "my... my father, he... where is he? I... I was just with him..." panic started to grip at the small things words, as his eyes darted around and finally took in the lack of a landscape around the pair "...where am I? Who are you? What did you do?"

"Hah, poor thing, did your father never tell you of your purpose?" The Nightmare spoke with a chuckle and slowly bent down to be a little closer to the child's level, the pinkish red of his eyes burning deep within "a shame then, a kin not properly warned will make the process far more difficult than it should be..."

"...kin? My... my purpose? Wh..what do you mean?" Grimmchild asked with a slight hitch to his voice, pulling his wings back as worry tugged at the edges of his mind "I... I really want to go home... where is home?" He asked again, not expecting a real answer but hoping that the strange 'kin' would take pity upon him.

The larger figure let off a deep sigh as it drew back up to its full height, looking away with an almost bored expression adorning their face.

"Fine, perhaps you were simply dragged here out of pure luck then, as I doubt a weakling could get here of skill alone..." The Nightmare King then lifted one of his hands before giving a simple snap that caused the child to burst into crimson flames, almost immediately cooking them inside and out as their skin was charred and reduced to ash.

Grimmchild awoke with a start, jolting up upon the soft sheets of a fine bed deep within the maze of tents that was the troupe. His breathing was laboured and irregular, and a tear was starting to build up on the edge of his eyes, that is until a black wing gently pulled him back into a kind embrace.

"Is everything alright little one?" Grimm spoke out with a softer tone, moving himself a little closer in order to better comfort his son.

"A... a nightmare... it... it felt s..so..." the child stuttered for a while, struggling to form words until Grimm tightened the hug a little further and carefully wrapped his wing around them. Laying the both of them back into the bed.

"Its okay little one, nightmares are just that, nightmares. Just try and get back to sleep, alright?"

"A..alright..."

( @doodle-chris​ )

[comeonpeters]

new instincts 

also on ao3

@troped-fanfic-challenge round 1 contribution

Theme: Angst 

Trope 1: Character discovers that they are a Mythical Creature 

Trope 2: Coffee Shop AU 

Trope 3: Poorly timed confession 

Trope 4: Character A catches Character B crying

Clocking in shouldn't be so much of a familiar relief as it is. He hasn’t even worked here that long, and he’s known his friends forever, really, even if he hasn’t known Julie or Flynn or Willie that long but it’s - well. It's easier to have a counter between himself and the familiarity of his friends, the repeated warmth of them, their incessant need to include him in everything that they do - he appreciates it! He does! He loves how much they love him, how much they want to make sure he doesn't feel left out, but... he wishes they wouldn't, to put it simply. He's fine with being the only single member of the band, really, and it doesn't bother him. He doesn't need to fifth wheel on every single double date they go on. Even if he can't find it within himself to tell any of them no when they ask. He loves them! Saying no isn’t really his strong suit where people he loves are involved. 

Even besides being the only single member of Julie and the Phantoms, he also has to deal with being the only human member of the band, which shouldn't be that big of a deal, but sometimes... sometimes, it does feel like an even more exclusive club than the romance brigade. He had been the only human member of Sunset Curve too, and that didn’t bother him either. He doesn't take any of it personally. Alex deserves to be happy with Willie (who is human too, so Reggie should be able to commiserate with him, even if he does have the vampire thing lined up), but anyway, he's glad that the two of them found each other. And Julie... she deserves to be happy with Luke. No matter how much... no matter how much Reggie sometimes wishes... 

Anyway. Clocking in is a welcome distraction. Coffee beans and cleaning solution is a familiar, comforting smell. None of that to say he's absolutely in love with working - there's a reason he clings to his bass instead of, say, a carafe of coffee - but it pays for his share of the gas and keeps him out of their shared apartment (which he had started to regret somewhat, but not really) when they’re not practicing, so he doesn't hate it. He doesn't really mind it at all. That, and Flynn started working here after he did, and that's nice too. She's Julie's best friend, but she's his friend too now too. They have this little thing that no one else shares in when they work together, and Reggie appreciates that; he's always liked having an individual thing with each of his friends, and it's cool to finally have one with Flynn. 

His personal thing with Luke used to be writing the notes for the songs. Luke could write lyrics with anyone, it wasn't personal as far as Reggie was concerned, but the notes and melodies were for them. Now, he writes the whole song with Julie sometimes. He doesn't take it personally at all. He knows that Luke doesn't see things the same way that he does, and that he never clarified that he saw stuff in that light. He's aware of how things are in a mature light. He's just also hurt. 

He knows that no one thinks he thinks of things in a mature way because most of the time, he likes to see the best in people, and things, and situations. But he knows himself and he knows his friends. He knows who they are. Just like he knows that - yep. 

It's been five minutes since he clocked in, which means that the other three members of Julie and the Phantoms have just walked in, Willie holding onto Alex’s hand like a lifeline. Ever since Reggie started working, he hasn't been able to go two shifts in a row without the four of them camping out in the coffee shop, Julie and Luke writing songs at the bar and Willie and Alex pretending to help, but really sitting in the back corner somewhat nearby and flirting. At least Reggie has the distraction of customers while being on a double date he didn't ask to be on. He still can't help lighting up whenever they come in the room, though, even if he only saw them a couple of hours ago. 

"Hey guys. You want your usuals?" he asks, smiling brightly. It’s not even fake. Luke grins back at him, arm around Julie's shoulders - it's raining outside and Luke Patterson could never be so lame as to own his own umbrella. However, if he doesn't remain dry, no matter what form he's in, the entire building is gonna smell like wet dog, an unfortunate consequence of the werewolf physiology. Julie closes their umbrella and puts it behind the counter, smiling at Reggie gratefully. 

"Please, Reg, and could you grab me an extra scone? I had to do an enlarging spell on my umbrella because someone doesn't know how to carry his own, so I'm kinda starving," she says, looking at him with those big pleading eyes when she isn’t cutting them at Luke, and he gives her a sympathetic smile. 

"Sure will, and I'll put it on the Patterson tab since he sucks," he says, sticking his tongue out at Luke, making the werewolf squawk at him and throw a random projectile out of his pocket at Reggie. Reggie catches it and finds a piece of paper, unravelling it to find... a song? Not one he’s ever seen before, but he knows what Luke’s songs look like when he sees them. Julie snatches it from his fingers before he can read all that much of it. 

"I don't think he meant to throw that. It's not done yet. Could you grab us our stuff? I'll just cover it," Julie rushes out like she always does when she’s nervous, and Reggie frowns. He doesn't like how much it feels like they're keeping a secret from him, but it happens when you're the odd man out of the group, he supposes. He nods and... gets to work. He's at work. This is his job. Serving his friends.

He makes the drinks for all of them, even gets the packet of synthetic courage that he sometimes puts in Alex's drinks (just for luck!), and gets Julie her scone, putting all of the refreshments out damn near silently before going to his next customer. Luke and Alex both try to talk to him, but he brushes them off. Well, he brushes Luke off. Alex, he replies to as shortly as he can without actually being short, because Alex doesn't deserve any of his shortness (his bitterness, which he didn't have before all of this unrequited nonsense, he could swear), before going back to the counter and addressing his next customer. Julie and Luke engage him for input on a song (not the one that Luke threw at him, he just knows), and he slowly relaxes back into their usual easy banter. He doesn't stay awkward or angry well. Especially not with Julie, and not even with Luke, even if Luke does drag out some of his more extreme emotions, his passions and problems and all of the things that he doesn't really talk about even with Alex. He… he says a lot of the wrong things around Luke, even if Luke is the best friend he’s ever had. Alex is too, but Luke. Luke is something else. 

He's so far in his head that he doesn't notice that he's messing with the espresso machine with his bare hands until Flynn, newly clocked in, comes up behind him. 

"Reggie, what the hell are you doing?" she asks, breaking his concentration, and he drops the tiny espresso cup he's holding onto the floor, cracking it open against the tile. The sound of the ceramic breaking fills him with a sense of dread and he can feel tears welling up in his eyes before he can stop them, stupid tears at the stupid reminder that he's an idiot who can't even hold a cup right if he's not focusing on it. The espresso machine tilts from where his other hand has been holding onto it too tightly and he uses both hands to keep it steady on the counter, then moving back to grab a towel to clean up the coffee and ceramic. It's not the first time he's cleaned up one of his own messes. 

"Just making a coffee, Flynn. What did it look like I was doing?" he asks, keeping his voice steady and light as he cleans the rest of the mess. He barely notices as a teensy bit of his blood adds to the mess. He'll clean that up too, and bleach it besides. 

"Touching the espresso machine with your bare hands, Reg. Are you okay?" they ask, grabbing one of his hands, which are fine except for one new nick from the ceramic, and then looking at his face. He knows that she would have healed him if he needed it - she’s a faerie, and it’s one of the many strange things he’s seen her do - but he doesn’t need anything. He shakes his head to make sure they don’t even heal the cut. He’s fine. 

"Go take a break, okay? I think you might need a break, Reg,” Flynn insists softly, softer than her voice typically gets with anyone but Julie, and Reggie finally looks away from his own hands. He would protest, remind her that he is fine, but when he looks up, Luke and Julie are looking at him too, their concern plain as well. He doesn't want to deal with everyone at the same time, and the breakroom is employees only. Everything is going to be fine. He'll go to the breakroom and he won't question why he was able to touch the espresso machine with his bare hands in the middle of his shift when it's already fully warmed up (it must be all of his experience, he just has the calluses already, huh? between the work and his bass, he has calluses to spare), he'll just sit down and take a break. Everything'll be fine, right? The breaking ceramic didn’t remind him of his parents at all. Everything is fine. 

Flynn lets Luke back into the breakroom, because of course she does, and everything is a little less fine. Everything breaks down around Luke, all of Reggie’s walls. Reggie hates how glad he is that he comes alone. He loves Julie. She’s one of his closest friends. There’s no way that anyone but Luke or Alex could come in here and talk to him and make him feel safe in the way that he needs to feel safe right now. He misses having them alone. He misses having Luke alone. There was once a time, he remembers, when he had all of Luke’s attention. The bitterest parts of him miss it terribly. 

"Dude, are you okay? Flynn said you were bleeding," Luke says, holding up a box of bandaids. The cut on Reggie’s hand is still bleeding lazily, but not too bad. It’s nearly stopped on it’s own. Reggie had nearly forgotten about it. He holds it up for Luke to see anyway. 

“I’m fine,” he says, giving Luke a weak smile. Luke snorts. 

“Sure, Reg. Let me handle it anyway,” he replies, smiling that stupid Luke smile that makes Reggie do whatever he wants. And so Reggie shrugs. 

“Yeah, okay,” he says. Luke pats the counter behind Reggie. 

“Hop up.” Reggie looks at it and looks back at Luke, squinting. 

“I don’t really think I need to-” Luke laughs and shoves at Reggie’s chest, tipping him back against the counter. 

“Hop onto the counter, Reginald, I’m not asking,” he repeats, and Reggie rolls his eyes, but he hops onto the counter, giving a falsely put upon sigh. Luke takes his hand and inspects it for burns that aren’t there, wiping off what little blood remains and putting on one of those little finger bandages - Julie or Carrie or Bobby or someone had replaced the work bandaids a week after Reggie started working here, exasperated by the one-size-fits-all cheap, off brand bandages and willing to throw in their own money if it meant they didn’t have to be worried about it. There’s something terribly intimate about someone else putting a bandaid on your skin, and Reggie feels the need to ramble bubble up in his chest as Luke stands between his legs. 

“It’s- um- it’s funny because I didn’t even realize I was touching the espresso machine until Flynn walked up, you know? It’s not like it hurt. I’ve gotten burns from it before, but it wasn’t hot at all this time, even though it normally would be, and I don’t know why it’s not- something might be wrong with it? I’ve already broken a cup today, I can’t really afford to break the entire espresso machine, Lu, that would cost me at least an entire shift, dude, and I might not have many bills, but I still like having money sometimes and-” He doesn’t really realize he’s spiraling until Luke grabs him by the shoulder, his face way too close to Reggie’s own as he grabs Reggie’s attention with a gentle smile.

“Dude, I need you to breathe,” Luke says, the hand on Reggie’s shoulder sliding to the side of his neck, and Luke’s other hand is still holding Reggie’s hand, and Reggie’s legs are sort of around Luke’s hips in a way and the intimacy is overwhelming. He and Luke have always been way too close (codependent, hanging all over each other, too much, everyone has always had something to say about it), and it never used to bother him before. He needs to breathe. Luke needs him to breathe. He copies Luke’s breathing like they get Alex to do when he’s freaking out (like Willie has mostly taken over getting Alex to do when he’s freaking out, but if he compares something he’s doing with Luke to Willie and Alex, he might lose the plot a little), and it does help him calm down. He talks when he’s better to talk, pushing Luke away a little for the betterment of his mental health. 

“I’m okay. Breaking the cup kinda… reminded me of things. Wasn’t good, you know?” he says, giving Luke a weak smile. That’s part of it, really. He can’t think about it too much, or he’ll think about his parents too much and he’ll- no. Nope. Not doing that. No, thank you. He’s focussing on Luke, even though that’s it’s own rabbit hole of panicking thoughts, at least this rabbit hole comes with comforting hands and a pretty face to keep him from falling into his own head too terribly. 

“You’re here with me. You’re safe, Reg. I’ll keep you safe,” Luke says. Reggie’s moves to look at him immediately and has to break the tension. 

“You my knight in shining armor, Patterson?” he ribs, slipping into a loose smile. Luke shrugs, keeping up his bluster. 

“Whenever you need one, Peters. You might wanna go back to work soon, though. I can hear Flynn, and she’s talking to Julie, and they sound like they might be starting to get worried,” Luke says, and Reggie remembers everything all at once. He’s at work. Luke has a girlfriend. Luke’s girlfriend is one of Reggie’s best friends, and Reggie shouldn’t be doing this at all. He puts a hand against Luke’s chest because the werewolf is still standing between his legs, and lords and ladies, he never should have let things get this far. This is a little more than codependence isn’t it? He pushes Luke backwards gently, hopping off the counter as soon as the other boy is back far enough, completely unconscious of his own facial expression, the panic that has returned to it, and the return of Luke’s worry. He pushes off Luke’s hand when it grips his shoulder again. 

“Gotta get back to work,” he reminds him, pushing a smile back onto his face, and he pushes Luke out of the room in front of him. “You’re not even supposed to be back here, Patterson, so you better get out,” he says, injecting laughter into his voice. Luke contemplates him for a second but smiles, relenting and letting himself be pushed out of the room, out from behind the counter, and back onto his stool next to Julie. Where he belongs. 

Next to Julie. 

“Hey Reg! You okay? You didn’t burn yourself, did you?” Julie asks, grabbing the hand with a bandaid on it as soon as Reggie comes within grabbing range. He allows it, and it’s pathetic that he’s a little proud of himself for not flinching. 

“Yeah, Reg, I didn’t see what happened, but Luke ran back there pretty quick, so we were pretty worried,” Alex contributes, walking closer with Willie attached to him with a hand in his. They really are disgustingly cute. Anyway, Reggie shakes his head. 

“I’m really fine, guys. There was no reason to freak out. Dog boy didn’t even have to come back there, really. No burns, no big cuts, just a small little nick from the cup breaking when I dropped it. I’m fine, and I gotta get back to work. I don’t get paid just to look pretty, you know,” he says, giving his friends a grin. Alex rolls his eyes, pushing Reggie’s head before going to sit back down, worries alleviated. Luke, meanwhile, has his lips pursed. Reggie goes back behind the counter, washing up. 

“I don’t appreciate being called dog boy,” Luke tells him, which is something that Reggie already knows, because it’s something that he and Luke have talked about before; it’s not an offensive thing, Reggie always makes sure, but Luke does feel teased by it, so Reggie only brings it out sometimes. He takes an order before replying to Luke, taking the customer’s name as well and writing it on the cup because otherwise he would have immediately forgotten it entirely, as occupied as he is with Luke. Even on the other side of the counter, supposedly occupied with songwriting himself, Luke is distracting him at work, as he often does. The boy is a menace. 

“That’s the point, Lucas,” Reggie teases, continuing simply because Luke is distracting him at work. If anyone besides he and Flynn were working right now, he could get in trouble. Well, except that he and Flynn (and their friends being in all the time) bring in a lot of business, being semi-famous in the local area, and no one really wants to fire him, but it’s the principle of the thing, isn’t it? He goes through the motions of making a relatively simple drink, putting in the faerie packets that Flynn makes. Everyone just loves a little bit of extra charisma, don’t they? Must be nice. 

“I don’t like being called Lucas either. I was just worried about you. You don’t have to be so mean about it,” Luke says, pouting fully now. Reggie actually feels a little bad about it, flashing back to when they invited Julie to the band and Luke got all pouty then too. He pauses briefly in making a drink and then resumes. 

“I know, Lu. I’m sorry. It was nice of you to check on me,” he says, and that’s all it takes for Luke to perk up again, because he really is a puppy. Lu is one of his favorite things to be called, not like Reggie has a chart in his head of all of the things he calls Luke or anything, but he knows. Only he, Julie, Alex and Bobby really call him Lu, and it always puts him in a better mood. It also always makes Reggie want to do something stupid, like kiss him on the forehead or something, but Luke’s really the only one who can get away with that, so he doesn’t do that. Luke had started doing things like that when things got worse with his parents, before Sunset Curve had even really begun, let alone broken up, and he had told them that it felt like even if they were just his friends, it still felt like family. 

There are a lot of reason he can’t fuck things up with Luke Patterson, and being a member of his pack is only like three thousand of them. 

Luke and Julie go back to songwriting after that, which is good for Reggie from a workplace standpoint, but it makes his chest burn. He loves Julie. He does. He loves her and he loves the relationship that she has with Luke because they make each other happy, but. Sometimes, he feels like an inarguably horrible person because he’s thinking about two of the people he’s closest to and he’s thinking about how happy they make each other, and there’s still a but. Julie Molina, more than most people he’s ever known, deserves to be happy. He doesn’t want to stand in the way of that. He shouldn’t stand in the way of that. So he won’t. 

But he looks at Luke and he wants. Luke Patterson makes him want in a way that he’s never wanted anyone before, makes him ache, makes him feel like he’s swallowed his tongue. He wants to grab Luke and keep him, he wants to take- feelings like this have been getting worse lately. It’s a problem. It’s a pretty big problem. He has no idea how to handle it, and that’s a worse problem. 

After his shift, he goes over to Bobby’s. Ever since Bobby quit the band (“I want to produce music, I still love you guys and we’re still a family, I just want to do something different.” / “We still love you, and we still want to support you.”), he and Bobby have only become closer, and he thinks that’s pretty much true with everyone and Bobby. No one wants him to be left behind. No one wants him to feel that way either, even if he’s making more money than them producing music for his little sister and making his own label and generally being a thousand times more practical than them, he’s still their Bobby. This is evidenced by the way that Reggie climbs in through his fire escape instead of buzzing in through his apartment complex, because who has time to be a normal person when you know how to pick a window lock? 

“Reg, you have a key to the apartment. Come on, man,” Bobby says as he hauls Reggie in through the window, even if Reggie was more than prepared to climb in through it himself. He lets the siren carry him to the couch, content to ragdoll on Bobby if the other guy wants to be anal retentive about Reggie’s boots on his entertainment center (as if it hasn’t happened a million times before). 

“Yeah, but if I come in like this, 50/50 shot that I don’t have to carry myself to the couch,” Reggie says, even if that’s not really a mitigating factor for him, he just likes to get on Bobby’s nerves. True to fact, Bobby rolls his eyes and huffs, holding him out little so that he can look at him (how did Bobby get so strong? Going to the gym should be illegal.)

“50/50 shot I drop you on your ass, Peters,” Bobby says, but he drops Reggie on the couch anyway, because he loves Reggie and thinks he’s charming and adorable and all of that fun stuff. Reggie says as much aloud and gets swatted at for his troubles. 

“What do you even want, dude? Are you here to hang out or are you here to talk about the massive thing you have for Luke, because I need to know the emotional toll you’re about to have on yourself,” the siren says plainly, almost blase, and Reggie has to swallow, eyes widening. He knows he has a thing for Luke. He just didn’t know that Bobby- does Luke- Luke can’t know about it, because if Luke knows, Julie knows, or if Julie knows, Luke knows, right, because keeping secrets from your partner, that’s kinda shitty, right? But having a thing for your friend’s boyfriend, that’s really shitty, and Reggie feels like he’s going to spontaneously combust, maybe.

“I-” he starts, blinking rapidly and having to clear his throat suddenly, panic shooting up from his chest and gathering beneath his Adam’s apple in a pool. Bobby sits down next to him on the couch, grabbing his hand to steady him. It works, slightly, not nearly so much as it normally would. It doesn’t help that Bobby is making a face, looking much more nervous, regretful, than he typically does. 

“That wasn’t the best way to bring that up. I should have gone with more tact there. Okay. Alright. Tact isn’t really my wheelhouse. But we’re already here. It’s okay, Reg. It’s okay. Everything is okay.” Bobby pulls Reggie in against his chest, humming, and Reggie feels nearly instantly calmed by the beginning of the siren song. Without the intent of seduction, it’s almost sedative in effect, calming and clean, something that they discovered when Alex was having really bad anxiety when they were fourteen. The four of them discovered a lot of things about sirens, about elves, about werewolves together, because their parents never explained much and neither did school, and Reggie had only ever wanted to help his friends learn. So, he had let Alex use elfen charms on him, and let Bobby siren sing him to sleep, and let Luke scent him, and they’d learned together. 

He can’t break their family. 

“Bobby, if I ever tell him, I’ll fuck everything up,” he says, and even through the calm of the siren song, he’s crying. The calm breaks, because Bobby stops singing, because Bobby presses a kiss to the top of his head and then he hauls Reggie away from his chest. 

“You will never fuck anything up, Reg. Everything is gonna be fine,” Bobby says again, firmer this time, his hands firm on Reggie’s face. In another life, he would be in love with Bobby Wilson. In this one, he’s sobbing, and his claws are buried in Bobby’s jacket and-

His what? 

“Bobby, what’s going on with my hands?” he asks, and then a few things happen at once. He’s still crying, because he’s never been able to turn that off and freaking out about having claws isn’t going to make him stop crying, and Bobby is looking down at Reggie’s hands and he’s trying to keep his cool, but he’s obviously also freaking out a little, and that’s when Luke fucking Patterson chooses to walk into the living room like he owns the place, probably having used his own key to make it in the front door. He looks at Reggie and Bobby for exactly one second, taking in the scene, before he falls to his knees next to Reggie, looking for the cause of Reggie’s distress. 

“What’s going on? Why are we crying?” he asks, looking up at Reggie with his big, stupid eyes (and he always phrases it like that, always makes sure Reggie doesn’t feel alone, and Reggie hates him, but not even nearly so much as he loves him), and Reggie remembers that he’s freaking out, not just looking at Luke Patterson. Shit. Claws. Fuck. He has no idea what to do. 

“I don’t know,” he admits, showing one of his shaking hands to Luke, his shaking hands where claws still protrude where his fingernails should be. They look like something between claws and talons, half an inch past his fingertip, and he’s surprised he didn’t rip Bobby’s jacket, really. Luke holds his hand delicately, and then pokes at the- the scales. There are scales going up Reggie’s hand now, and he hadn’t even noticed. The tears still trying to well up in his eyes try to get closer, probably because he’s freaking out. Reggie sniffles, breaking both Bobby and Luke’s steadfast fascinations with his hand and claws, and Bobby puts his arm back around Reggie’s shoulder. 

“This is okay, too, Reg. We’ll figure it out,” Bobby promises, and Luke nods, climbing onto the other side of the couch and holding his hand. He kisses the top of Reggie’s head, and Reggie is nearly asleep before Bobby starts humming again. 

After a week of minorly freaking out and going about his life, Reggie is just trying to do his job (okay, so he’s wiping a counter and talking to Luke, but half of that is his job), when a manila folder for the IPC drops onto his newly wiped (and newly dry, thankfully) counter. He turns to Flynn. 

“What’s this? Why do I need a folder from the Inhuman Persons Council?” he asks, making sure that he hasn’t sprouted claws again as he looks down at his hands. He’s been doing his best to ignore it, really. Bobby has been researching it mildly, making a few phone calls, but he said he would take care of it, so Reggie decided to let him take care of it. He doesn’t really want to know, to be honest. 

“It’s your species folder. Bobby sent me a photo of your hands when you-” Flynn gets closer so that they can whisper the next part “sprouted claws and scales in the middle of his apartment, so that I could do the research when he got stumped. He also sent me the results of that Ancestry test you nerds did together a few years ago so that I wouldn’t be barking up the wrong trees. It’s been a fun project! This is what I’ve got,” they explain, tapping the folder. Reggie doesn’t want to open it. Flynn takes in the look on his face and gives him a smile of her own. 

“I’m scared,” he admits quietly, because Flynn is easy to talk to when they want to be, and because they’re his friend. She’s a good friend, seeing as she did all this for him, really. There’s someone else working with them today, so he doesn’t feel too bad when he asks her to take a break with him, and feels even better when they accept. 

“Let me make you something real quick, and I’ll meet you in the breakroom, okay?” she says, and he nods, grabbing the folder. Luke looks at him with concern, but he needs to do this without all of their friends in the vicinity, he thinks. He waves him off and heads to the breakroom. All of his anxiety hits him as soon as he sits down at the little table in there, and he wishes he had brought Luke. He could probably say his name at a normal speaking level and get him back here, but he won’t. He needs to do this without him. He doesn’t know why, but it’s just… what if he doesn’t like what’s in there? What if he doesn’t like what he is? Flynn comes into the breakroom with a cup and a smile. 

“Little liquid courage, anybody?” she asks, tilting the cup back and forth just a little. He knows that they mean it literally, that she had just brewed actual courage, and he loves them all the more for it; it’s not like he can even stand the smell of alcohol. He takes a sip of it when she hands it to him and instantly feels it thrumming within him. Okay. Okay, he can do this. He can do this. She sits down next to him and inclines her head to the folder. Oh god. 

“I can’t do this,” he says, biting his lip. She gives him a look. “Okay, I’m doing it,” he rectifies, opening the folder. 

What. 

“I- What? A- a what?” he asks, turning to look at Flynn. She looks at him dead on, not faltering a bit. “I’m only a sixteenth Czech! I can’t be a Slavic dragon! I don’t even know anything about the Czech Republic. Are they even Slavic?” He’s rambling, a little, but a dragon? He can’t be a dragon. That’s too much. Flynn grabs the papers in the folder, obvious in her familiarity with them that she’s looked through them before. 

“It’s a Western Slavic subgroup, I don’t know that much about it, but according to your ancestry results, the IPC representation of the Slavic Dragons, and the fact that you have dragon scales and claws that were recognizable to the dragon I showed them to, one sixteenth seems to be enough,” Flynn says, which is pretty irrefutable, now that he thinks about it. He’s caught on something, though. 

“You met a dragon for me?” he asks, strangely touched. Flynn grins up at him. 

“Well, I figured if you’re a dragon, another one couldn’t be too intimidating, so yeah,” they say, shrugging a shoulder like it’s no big deal. He throws his arms around her, overcome by how much he loves his friend. He’s also really, really glad that the (other?) dragon turned out to be helpful, because he would hate to have to get into a fight with a dragon. Especially when he’s just figuring this stuff out. 

“You’re the best, Flynn. Seriously. I owe you so big for this,” he promises, hugging her a little tighter before releasing her. The faerie just shrugs again, unbothered. 

“Just do me a favor and read over that stuff. I added my own research too, just in case. We’re here for you, you know. Everybody else has always known what we were, and you’re just now figuring it out. We want to be able to support you, Reg,” she explains, and Reggie definitely doesn’t get a little misty, he’s not sensitive, that’s Alex. Alex is the sensitive one. He’s a guy’s guy, he plays bass, he doesn’t get misty. He’s fine. Flynn rolls their eyes anyway and walks out of the breakroom, and it’s less than a minute before Luke Patterson walks his happy ass right back into an employee’s only space. 

“You know you don’t work here, right? It’s important to me that you know that,” Reggie reminds him, even though he knows that Flynn probably sent him back here themself. Luke grins at him. 

“Yeah, I know,” Luke says, but he doesn’t leave the breakroom either, so it’s not like he cares. Reggie’s smile lags a little. 

“I guess you heard all that,” he says, looking down at the folder and thinking about closing it, but Luke sits down with a nod, bumping their shoulders, and he just doesn’t close it. Luke’s slender fingers flick through the pages a little, eyes scanning over a bit that Reggie hasn’t even gone over yet, but Reggie doesn’t mind. Anything that he knows, Luke is going to know anyway. Flynn wouldn’t have delved into anything too personal anyway, right? 

“Hoards? Those are real?” Luke asks, pulling out an article (the pages of the article paper clipped together for convenience sake) titled Hoarding and Its Effects Upon Interpersonal Relationships. Immediately, something within Reggie wants to curl up and find somewhere to hide. Pretty much everyone learned about hoards in what little was covered about dragons in Study of Other Cultures in school, and Luke had taken that before he dropped out, but hoards are- a lot of people make jokes about them, right? There’s an instinct in Reggie to be offended by that, but he doesn’t even know where it comes from; it’s not like he even has a hoard! It’s not like he even knows how to make one! Anxiety is humming beneath his skin again, and something must change in how he smells or maybe he makes a noise or maybe Luke just has a feeling, because Luke lifts his head. 

“I’m fine, Lu,” Reggie says, even if he might not be, because he doesn’t know why he wouldn’t be. Luke slips their fingers together. 

“It’s okay if you’re not. This is kinda huge, dude. You’re allowed to not be okay,” Luke replies, which, despite phrasing, is incredibly emotionally intelligent, and kinda exactly what Reggie needed to hear. It’s basically what Bobby said a week or so ago, but that was before he found out that he’s a dragon, so forgive him if he needed to hear it again. 

“You know, we should probably get back out there at some point,” Reggie says, letting go of Luke’s hand. They have to stop doing that. Girlfriend. Luke has one. Luke frowns at the change of pace, but nods, damnably biting his lip. Reggie looks away, putting all of the articles back into the folder for him to look through later, just for something else for him to do. He has to go back to work. He’s taken too many breaks lately, crisis aside. 

“Hey, before you go back to work. Come here,” Luke says, and then he pulls Reggie in for a bone-crushing hug whether he wants to come here or not. Luke’s arm is around his waist, and his other hand is cupping the back of Reggie’s head, pulling him against Luke’s neck, and the feeling is overwhelming. His senses might be getting stronger with this whole coming-of-age as a dragon thing, because Luke smells really strong, and really, really good. Not that Luke doesn’t usually smell good, but. It’s distracting. It doesn’t help that Luke is also nosing at his throat in that way he does sometimes, the way he always has because he’s got his wolfy excuses and Reggie has the impulse to nip at his ear to get him to stop (a new impulse, one he blames on other new things), but he markedly does not, because that would definitely make things weird. 

Weirder than suddenly developing dragonic traits when you’ve thought you were human your entire life, of course. Because apparently that’s an option. 

“I really do have a job to get back to, you know,” he says, interrupting Luke’s sincere investigation of his throat and collarbones, to which the werewolf whines. 

“But I’m so much cooler than your job.” Reggie rolls his eyes, even as he silently agrees, and gently pushes Luke away. 

“Get out of the breakroom, Patterson,” he says, resisting the urge to kiss Luke on the forehead or something stupid like that. 

“You’re so mean to me,” Luke says, leaving the breakroom while Reggie trails after him, manila folder in hand. “Julie, Reggie is mean to me,” he says once he reaches the girl in question, flopping onto the stool next to her. Julie laughs and pats his head. 

“How is that my business?” she asks, taking her hand off of his head to sip at her drink. Reggie would think that it would be someone’s girlfriend’s business to care about someone being mean to them, but he hasn’t dated anyone since high school, so how would he know? He gets clocked back in and gets washed up, taking an order from Flynn as soon as she gets it, falling directly back into the workflow as soon as he can. The rest of his shift goes as smoothly as it possibly can, given that all of his friends are populating the coffeeshop, he’s a dragon, he has to deal with customers, he’s a dragon, he gets paid a dollar over minimum wage, and he just found out he’s a dragon. 

So, well, smooth is relative, right? 

He goes to Bobby’s again after his shift, but he drags Alex with him, which means he also drags Willie. He’s okay with that, honestly. He likes Willie, and Willie is a voice of reason, like Bobby and Alex are, but different from Bobby and Alex. He doesn’t know what it says about him as a person that he needs so many voice of reason in his life: Bobby, Julie and Alex as full time voices of reason, Flynn, Willie and Carrie as part timers, and even Nick pitching in when he comes to parties and keeps him and Luke from doing something stupid like getting stoned and trying to jump a firepit again. He likes to think that he manages himself sometimes, but with so many people also involved in managing him (and Luke), who really knows? 

But, on the other side of that coin, maybe they all manage each other, in their own ways. Maybe he shouldn’t think about it so much. Maybe he’s just trying to distract himself. 

“I think I’m ready to talk about the Luke thing,” he says when they’re all gathered in Bobby’s living room, him practically in Bobby’s lap on one side and Willie in the same position (though more settled) in Alex’s lap on the other. Bobby presses his face into the side of Reggie’s neck. 

“Oh thank God. You guys have been killing me for years.” Alex nods his agreement. Reggie tilts his head. 

“Both of us?” he asks, and he can actually hear Bobby swallow. Alex makes eye contact with Bobby over Reggie’s shoulder, and he can’t see the face that Bobby is making, but from Alex’s expression, he can guess that Bobby’s is probably mild panic. 

“Ignore that part. Anyway, talk about the Luke thing. Tell us about it,” Bobby says, insists really, and Reggie decides to let it go. He really does want to talk about the Luke thing after all. He’s kept it under wraps for a couple of years, since, well, high school, and that’s why he hasn’t dated anyone. He just… doesn’t want to lead anyone else on when he knows what he wants. What he wants just isn’t available. 

“Well, Flynn gave me the folder today on what she thinks I am- a dragon by the way- and I’ve dealt with this whole having feelings for Luke thing for a long time, but now I’m also dealing with dragon instincts or whatever the fuck, so mixing how I feel about him with that is not going great, I’m not gonna lie!” he rambles, limiting how much he gesticulates so that he doesn’t accidentally hit Bobby in the face or something. He doesn’t feel too bad about just dropping in the fact that he’s a dragon; nothing lasts too long as a secret with the Sunset Curve/JATP/Dirty Candy amalgam friend group, and he knows that Flynn probably told Julie and Carrie before she brought the folder to him, and Carrie probably told Bobby, who told Alex, and so on and so forth, so there’s nothing to feel bad about. 

“Oh no,” Alex says, and Reggie’s gaze flicks to him instantly. The elf winces. 

“What?” Reggie asks, anxiety creeping up his spine. Bobby strokes a hand over his tense shoulders. 

“Someone with a key signature just hit the warding, and given that you and me are both here, and Carrie is with Dirty Candy in San Francisco…” Alex trails off. Oh no. Alex had done the warding on Bobby’s apartment, given that elves have strong attachments to homes and places of significance, so he feels it when someone hits the warding, let alone someone with a key signature. The only people with key signatures are Bobby, Alex, Reggie, Carrie and… Luke. Who has the enhanced hearing of a werewolf, and who has probably heard everything that’s been said for the past minute or two. 

“Couldn’t have picked a worse time to actually open up about this, huh?” he says, and then he stands up, batting off Bobby’s hands when the siren tries to keep his arms around Reggie’s waist. He’s across the room before anyone can stop him (probably because Bobby doesn’t actually want to grab him, doesn’t want to remind him of his dad, and that’s sweet, but overall, ineffective), and opens the fire escape window. 

“Reggie, come on, just talk to him,” Willie says, out of Alex’s lap (he’d have to be, if he didn’t want to get dumped out when Alex rushed up to try and keep Reggie from climbing out the window), and at the window like everyone else. Reggie shakes his head. 

“Yeah, no, believe it or not, this isn’t really a conversation I want to have,” he says, and there are tears welling up, and he’s cried a lot lately and he hates it, so he just climbs out the window, sliding the fire escape rail rather than climbing down it, even if it is more dangerous to do it this way. At least it’s faster. His phone is ringing before he even makes it to the bottom floor, and he knows it’s Luke because he has a stupid personalized ringer, which Luke set when he also set his own contact name when Reggie got his new phone, and he asked Reggie to keep his phone with the sound on just for him so that he’d always hear it. God, that’s stupid. He’s so stupid for Luke Patterson. 

He doesn’t answer the phone, but when he’s made it to the bus (just to make sure that Luke won’t catch up to him), he texts Luke, just to let Luke know he’s okay. Even if Luke doesn’t feel the same way, he knows that he cares. Luke has always made sure that Reggie knows that he cares. So, he sits at the bus station and waits the fifteen minutes for the next bus because he doesn’t want to get into a cab at this hour, and he texts Luke. 

Reggie: I’m fine. We don’t have to talk about it. I’ll see you in a little while. 

Lu💙: what if i wanna talk about it?

Reggie: Idk if that’s a good idea. 

Lu💙: y not? 

Reggie contemplates it for a moment, but he sends what he’s thinking. It’s easier to be brave over text. Besides, Luke already knows how he feels. Might as well just say it. 

Reggie: Because I’m in love with you and you have a girlfriend. 

Incoming call from: Lu💙

Accept or Decline? 

He accepts it this time. What’s the worst that could happen? 

“I don’t have a girlfriend and I think you might be an idiot,” Luke says before Reggie can even get out a cautionary hello, and it’s enough that Reggie feels like he might stop breathing. He can barely string a thought together for a second. 

“You- I- what?” he asks, suddenly sitting in a bus station unable to get enough air into his lungs, but possibly in the best way. He can hear Luke growl under his breath. 

“You went into the bus station, right? I tracked you, but there are too many people in there, and I lost you. Come outside, okay? We can actually talk,” Luke says, and then he hangs up, like an asshole. Even though Luke is an asshole, Reggie still finds himself standing up. Luke… doesn’t have a girlfriend? But he and Julie- did they break up? Did something happen? Was it Reggie’s fault, somehow? He walks outside the exact way he came in, because if he’s right- yeah. Luke is waiting at the entrance he came in at, looking exactly like a puppy left tied to a tree, pouting and then smiley and relieved as soon as he catches sight of Reggie. Reggie gives a cautious smile of his own unbidden, unable to resist the pull of smiling back at Luke Patterson. 

“So…” Reggie says as he walks up to Luke, swallowing nervously. He can’t stand being nervous around Luke. It’s unnatural. Luke, for his part, keeps his grin. 

“I don’t have a girlfriend. And I haven’t had once since before I dropped out. And I don’t want one. I actually have feelings for a guy,” Luke says, pausing for a brief second in which Reggie sucks in a breath, and then continuing, “he’s about yea high,” he says, putting his hand at Reggie’s height, “and he has these killer eyes, makes you feel like you’re gonna drown in them, can shred both bass guitar and a banjo, but don’t tell him I said that second one, and most importantly, he’s my favorite person in the world. We’ve got the most chemistry of anyone I’ve ever sang with, I think. Certainly the most I feel. What do you think, Reg?” He caps it off by cupping Reggie’s jaw with his rough fingertips, his sweet smile a little lascivious, and Reggie feels weak in the goddamn knees. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty hot,” he says, echoing himself from a few years ago now, except now, it’s him who leans forward instead of Luke backing away, and he kisses Luke. He kisses Luke and he holds him close, grabbing him by the flannel (it used to be Reggie’s anyway, didn’t it?), and Luke falls into him like he’s been waiting to do it for as long as Reggie has. The kiss doesn’t last too long (doesn’t last long enough, but they’re in public), before they’re breaking apart, but really getting closer together, Luke pulling him into a hug. Having Luke against him, knowing that Luke feels the same way, feels better than anything Reggie ever thought he could have. He wants this moment forever, maybe, wants to have Luke Patterson in his life for the rest of his, and he’s always known that, but this… this is something new and terrifying and it feels just like home. 

Speaking of which. 

“We should probably go home at some point. We are in public,” he says, even though he knows it will kill Luke’s vibe. He holds in his laughter when Luke swats at him. 

“Can we have a moment, Reginald? Just one moment?” He’s laughing, though, so how bad can it be? He also doesn’t pull out of the hug, and neither does Reggie, he just leans closer to Luke’s ear, kissing above it before speaking. 

“I’m in love with you, you know,” he says, because he may have said it over text, but that was spite fueled and less than what he meant, and he wants a do-over. Luke shivers against him. 

“Hell of a moment to pick, Peters. I love you too,” he replies, nosing at Reggie’s throat again before pulling back. He looks… pink and sweet and beautiful and a thousand other things that maybe a young, upstart punk rock guitarist and werewolf shouldn’t choose to look like, but he looks like Luke, and Reggie loves him so much. He kisses Luke again, just a peck, and pulls away before he can let himself get sucked into his best friend’s orbit too much. 

“We need to go home, dog boy. It’s getting a little late to be loitering outside a bus station,” he says, leaning his forehead against Luke’s, who scowls at him. 

“Don’t call me dog boy, scales,” Luke replies, though his voice takes on a teasing of his own. Reggie’s eyes widen, a grin taking over his face. 

“Scales? It’s like that?” he asks, strangely charmed by Luke teasing him about his new features. It makes them feel more… normal. Better. Luke smiles back, and nips at Reggie’s jawline. Reggie retaliates by giving into the impulse of nipping at Luke’s ear, making Luke look scandalized, and then delighted. 

“You’ve never bit me back before!” he says, hands firm on Reggie’s waist. Reggie shrugs, though his grin is a little wilder. 

“Must some new instincts, Lu. Got all kinds, now. You good with that?” he asks, insecurity just barely creeping into his voice. Luke kisses his cheek. 

“Anything you’ve got, I’m here for it. New instincts too.” 

[normal-thoughts-official]

If it’s alright that I spin off a little on your last ask, regarding that we know touch isn’t a big thing in shadowhunter culture. That just... kinda kills me a little bit? Because in the show Alec is so tactile?? Even with himself in always wringing his hands together (big mood tbh) and with Izzy and the fact that he always carefully touches Magnus’ shoulder whenever he wants to comfort him?? Like he’s so willing to be close and hug people to show appreciation and we KNOW they’re both so touch starved and they’ve both had to hold themselves back for different yet palpable reasons and like,,, UGH, then healing from the abuse together but without it being unhealthy codependency or necessarily trauma bonding but rather, they work out what it is they each need to heal from and they support each other through it and in that support they find so much comfort from just touching. Which leads me to your theory about how much intimacy there must be in hand holding for Magnus since that’s where he expresses his magic? And I feel like, maybe sometimes it’s almost a little too much and Alec notices because of course he does, so he just gives a little affirming squeeze before letting go and Magnus being kind of stunned cuz like?? Wow he noticed that I can’t handle this intimacy right now and that’s okay apparently?? Wow imagine that. Like I just andhnsg I love their love and understanding of each other and I love that Alec doesn’t even seem to care that he initiates everything because he gets it!!! He knows Magnus might be ready one day but until then he’ll take the reigns and Magnus feels so safe in knowing he doesn’t HAVE to do anything!! Because he’s enough regardless!! Wow I’m a puddle

yes!! yes!!!! you absolutely get it!!!!!!! honestly alec and magnus have struggled with very similar things, and even have some similar tropes in how that affected their psyche (like they both obviously feel like they have to be useful and put themselves in a position where they have to solve other people's problems and be their caretakers in a way), i think the main difference between them is that magnus internalized it while alec not so much internalized it as understood that that's the safest way he would get to live. like of course there is stuff alec internalized but... with stuff like touch, we see how tactile he is, like u said. he is always touching magnus! grabbing his hand, his shoulder, going for kisses, getting into his personal space, chest poke, etc etc etc.

i think a part of that is thanks to izzy? like again mandatory disclaimer that i know izzy did a lot of shit and was extremely unhelpful to alec, but the fact is that izzy is very tactile and way less into obeying everything about shadowhunter culture. like we saw the way she was playing with max, then immediately stopped when she saw her mom, she knows she's not supposed to, but instead of alec who tries to play by the rules, she allows herself to rebel and do what she wants. partially, of course, because alec is already taking the role of the obedient child, and we know that he took most of the pressure from the lightwoods unto his own back so he could protect his younger siblings from it. so partially izzy "gets" to rebel (altho of course she faces a lot of abuse for it) because alec doesn't. but i also think that, beyond the eldest sibling syndrome, alec just... is very practical in that sense and if he's learnt that that is the way he should act, he's gonna follow it. the fact that izzy is very tactile and questioned all that stuff helped alec not internalize it as much by a lot, imo. also, like, he got to at least have one (1) person he could be tactile with, because we know that the lightwood sibs are all over each other (good for them!)

and i totally get what you mean about their relationship and the healing! it's one of the things i find very interesting about their relationship, because while they have SO much in common, including the abuse and suicidal ideation history, and have managed to help each other through the worst of it plenty of times... that wasn't really a big thing in how they bonded and built their relationship? which is SO great, because that balance isn't easy to pull off. like the main reason they are together is because they are FRIENDS and they have fun together and they are supportive and they are compatible, it's not built on their trauma at ALL, but it also doesn't ignore it. like they managed to make that something they can relate to the other without making it a pillar of their relationship, which almost inevitably leads to codependency or toxicity. and i just fucking love that for them

and again they are not really trying to fix each other (their talk about suicide and all was SO great, like... magnus didn't ask alec to live for him, or to stop hurting himself, or any other thing that would most definitely not work and just lead to alec hiding from him, he just made sure to open that channel of communication and ask alec to be open to him about it, ya know? and the same when magnus told alec about his past, alec didn't try to fix it or make magnus forget it or anything of the sort, he just made sure that channel was open and that magnus knew he would always support him and be on his side and wouldn't judge him for his past and aaa) but they actually have a dynamic that does them good? particularly i think exactly that i was talking about, with magnus being always scared of making the first move and thinking he's too much, and alec genuinely just wanting to shout from the rooftops and do everything he had been denying himself so far. like again i want to see magnus grow confident enough to love unapologetically and make the first move, but the fact that alec is so confident and open about what he feels does magnus so much good. and it's not something alec is trying to do - which is good, because that's not his job - it's just something that really works between them because it's how alec genuinely wants to be. you know what i mean??

or the way alec is always willing to have difficult conversations and is always so honest about how he feels and does not play any kind of games... like magnus is so used to navigating conversations and relationships like it's chess, because he needs to be careful to protect himself, but alec is just... not interested in being anything other than himself. and again he's not trying to do something that makes magnus feel more at ease and second-guess himself less, it just happens to be how he is and it happens to be really good for magnus

or the way neither of them expect the other to fix their problems is good because they both think they have to fix everyone's problems, preferably on their own, which is not good for them OR their relationships. and i could go on forever tbh. my point is: they do each other good, not because they are constantly trying to help each other, but because their dynamic is good and they are compatible in that way

and god yeah that thing you said about intimacy like!!! i think most of the time magnus needs and craves intimacy and just doesn't know how to ask for it, but they are also just so respectful of boundaries and pay so much attention to each other in that sense, you know? and yeah alec realizing that magnus might feel too vulnerable and letting go while also reassuring him that it's ok and he's not angry or disappointed is just... good shit. and like not to project but magnus being genuinely so shocked that alec even realized that something was too hard for him without him having to even say it? fucking imagine that. it lowkey blows his mind

but also all the vulnerability and implicit trust of handholding when hands mean so much for warlock culture and the fact that to him it's both an act of sharing and of trusting, because like - canonically, if you hold a warlock's hands down, they can't use their magic. so it's such a vulnerable act, both due to that and the fact that he is literally giving alec access to his own strength and magic source, and alec is doing the same too! just aaaaaa it means so much and i KNOW i've talked about this already but i lose my mind!!!

also alec being so fucking happy whenever magnus initiates those touches?? especially handholding? knowing how much that means for magnus and also just because he loves it and we know that? like again i can't get over the way he just grabbed magnus' hand and started towing him along to that locker thing (LET'S GO MAGNISS). or the way he smiled up at magnus when they held hands during lorenzo's party? chef's kiss. 10/10

so like him being genuinely happy both for himself because he gets to hold a man's hand (magnus' hand!!) to his heart's content and for magnus because he knows how much that means for him. honestly i think at the beginning alec didn't even realize he was always the one initiating stuff because he was just so drunk on getting to do everything he wanted and he was just like Must Hold Magnus' Hand all the goddamn time but of course eventually he's gonna notice, especially as he gets to realize the extent of magnus' insecurities, which i think he lowkey doesn't because the idea that magnus doesn't know how he feels about him just sounds RIDICULOUS when it's like, overwhelming to him sometimes, and not something he ever second guessed. but anyway, once he does realize he just... gets it and is mostly sad for magnus but he doesn't mind initiating it most of the time, on the contrary, he loves getting to do it after so long of holding himself back. but he's also happy for magnus' every step you know

also eventually magnus is gonna reach the point where he is just drunk on the fact that he GETS to express how he feels without fear and he is kind of all over alec the way alec is all over him and i bet alec loves it doahdsah he's just smiling or even laughing all the time when magnus touches him and they are both just so happy to have each other and aaa im dying

[currywaifu]

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: the sims 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: settsu banri/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 2.1k words

𝐚𝐧: banri and reader? using the Sims as an excuse to flirt? more likely than you think. been playing Sims 4, and I got a surge of inspiration at like 1 am. also, friends to lovers is one of my faves, goes hand in hand w/ many tropes (fake dating cough cough)

A laptop with no mouse, you’re such a pro-gamer.” Banri teases you, lifting the blankets slightly to let you settle in beside him. Fixing your position on the bed, you let out a laugh as he yelped from the skin contact.

“Your feet are fucking cold!”

You stick your tongue out at him, before turning on your laptop. “Then don’t make fun of my set-up, e-boy! You’re the one who wanted to game in bed.”

“I was expecting gacha-“

“I have event burnout,” you whine in protest, “I need a break from my eternal suffering, so we’re playing the Sims 4.”

Shuffling closer to you, his thighs now beside yours, he watches you load up an unfinished sim from your gallery. He snickers as he looks at the avatar closely.

“Oh, so we’re making each other then?” Banri asks, noting the various clothes that looked incredibly similar to stuff he actually owns. Clearly, you already got a head start. “My face looks kind of fucked though.”

Giggling, you turn to face him. “Obviously it’s hard to do your gorgeous, one of a kind face justice, have pity on my average sim-making skills.” You joked, observing Banri’s expression for a comeback. Whatever he throws at you, you’ll be prepared to throw back.

“Then I’ll let you look at my face as a reference, for as long as you want,” he replies, the quirk of his lips letting you know he had more to say. “Just like how you’re looking at me right now,” he continues, a little softer this time.

Caught off-guard, you force yourself to turn back to the bright blue screen as Banri’s sim lets out various sounds of Simlish non-sense. Did joining theatre make him even more smooth or something?

And here you thought you could avoid the feelings continuously sprouting in your chest. You supposed inviting the object of your affections over to your place didn’t help your case; with your friend spending more and more time as an actor, you secretly longed for and cherished the time you spent together.

Still, with how he grew and bloomed as a person it was hard not to catch feelings.

With a boyish grin set on his face, he found himself revelling in your cute embarrassment. “Made ya speechless?”

“Something like that,” you said half-heartedly.

You always found him attractive, bowl-cut, dumb animal print and all. Of course, as if you would ever tell him seriously lest his ego gets bigger. Yet when you were looking at a picture of him for reference, your thoughts weren’t ‘yeah my friend is attractive, what a good reference for this sim’.

Instead, it was more along the lines of, ‘I’d like to punch his mouth, with my mouth.’

Slightly concerned by your lacklustre response, Banri looks at your face for a sign of discomfort or anger. Lips slightly pouted, eyebrows somewhat furrowed, and eyes completely focused on the screen.

Wait, what were you doing?

“Yo what are you doing to my face! Stop stretching it out!” You were smiling again, so he wasn’t all that bothered by your petty retaliation really, plus it was nice to know he hadn’t said anything that was out of line with you.

“Fine, fine. I wanna get Banny’s face right.” You say.

Banri opens his mouth, then closes it, then lets out a huff of laughter. “You have a nickname for the sim now?” He was about to say more until one of your hands takes hold of his face.

Settsu Banri was not easily flustered, nor did his face turn red from small, insignificant touches. The tingling feeling rendered within him as your fingers brush against his skin, however, was present no matter how much he denied it.

This weird silence wasn’t really his thing, but if he spoke up now or teased you back, there was a chance you would stop. Why didn’t he want you to stop?

Your index finger traces his jawline, the pad briefly meeting his cheek before sliding upwards to the bridge of his nose. He didn’t close his eyes, but with your intense stare piercing through him, his gaze shifts towards somewhere, anywhere else.

The wall was a nice place to set his eyes on. Not so plain that his thoughts would wander but not so cluttered that he wouldn’t know where to start. There was a time when your room was littered with posters from different shows, games, bands- he could remember it pretty well, having made fun of you for it.

At the present a choice few posters still there, but now there was also the addition of photos of you and other people on the wall. Some were polaroids, others were pictures you printed out yourself and taped on.

From afar, he spots several photos with him in it- when you went thrift shopping together, the cultural festivals you dragged him to and the music festivals he visited with you. A part of him is pleased, smug even, to know that he’s important enough to you have his pictures up there.

He hadn’t really thought about it before, but when did the two of you get so close to hang out all the time? You had always been chill with him even when he was a delinquent, but after joining Mankai the two of you had grown closer.

“Oi, Banri. Look at this!”

Huh, when did you stop touching his face?

When Banri looked at the screen appraisingly, his sim version- Banny, you called him, looked a lot more like him. You even dressed him in clothes he would’ve chosen for himself.

“Like the animal print? Downloaded a bunch for you.”

He whistled, looking at the different outfits you chose. “You did pretty good, I guess. Could probably do better though.”

You scoff, looking a little doubtful. Sure, Banri excelled in many things, but making a good sim look-a-like isn’t a common talent, especially without any practice.

“Have you even played the Sims 4 before?”

Shrugging, Banri pulled the device onto his lap from yours. “2 and 3. Never touched 4, should be easy enough.”

He plays around with the options for a bit. After entering your name and gender, he looks through the possible aspirations and traits he could give your sim, which was easy enough. He briefly wondered if you would protest being given a mismatched trait, but when he hovers the cursor over one you don’t react at all. 

Calling out your name, he eyes you from his peripheral. This wasn’t the first time you spaced out today. One arm went in front of you as he waved his hand to catch your attention.

“You can… also,” you paused, chewing on your lip for a few seconds, “for reference. If you wanted.”

He whips his head to face you completely, looking a little shell-shocked.

‘If I wanted?’

He paused, figuring out how to phrase his response. Honestly, he probably didn’t need to- he already has your face mapped out and memorised in his brain at this point, but there was no way he was admitting that.

Besides, if you offered it wouldn’t be wrong wanting to accept.

“Not that I need it, but I’m just making sure, ya hear?” His voice was the same as always, not a sign of wavering to hint at his anticipation or nervousness. “Bet you just want my hands all over ya or something.” He said, doing his best to manage a playful tone but not quite making the cut.

If someone else had said it you would have felt called out, or at worst offended, but you knew he was merely slipping into the language he most felt comfortable using.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Your voice came out a little shaky at the start, but thankfully he doesn’t out you for it. “Just don’t be weird about it.” There was no doubt in your mind that your cheeks were hotter than the sun, but you were curious about how it felt.

“No pressure,” Banri said, hoping his face is still the picture of nonchalance despite the erratic thumping of his heart in his chest defying it. “You can back out anytime.”

You don’t answer, steadily avoiding his gaze by observing the hand hovering near your face. It twitched.

The blanket shifts as Banri sits in a way where he could look at you properly, putting the laptop aside.

As soon as you felt his fingers come in contact with your face you immediately shut your eyes, unable to bear the embarrassment. A multitude of questions ran through your head, unable to concentrate on a single one.

Why did you offer? Why did he accept? You did the same, so why was it such a big deal if he touched your face? Why did you touch his face in the first place? Why were you so touch-starved? Why did he it feel so nice?

You hoped closing your eyes hid the self-consciousness and pleasure you felt at this moment, enjoying his knuckles glide against your skin.

Banri narrows his eyes, stomach twisting at how overwhelmingly adorable you looked and how soft you were. Hell, you were turning him all soft and sappy and disgusting but that was the least of his worries right now. At least your eyes were closed, he doesn’t have to put on a facade— that this was just a friendly thing, because if he was reading the signs right you were both venturing somewhere beyond that.

His thumbs press against your cheekbones, so featherlight the sensation might as well be from a ghost. You stay still, unable— or perhaps unwilling— to move, and as much as you try to hold it in your breaths grow more and more uneven the longer Banri’s hand lingers on your skin.

You wonder if this is as intimate for him as it was for you.

Your skin is warm and soft, he’s a little conscious if the callousness of his fingertips feels uncomfortable to you.

Even with the slight roughness, his fingers felt infinitely tender as they swept through your cheeks.

Following your cheekbone, he moves to your jaw, to your chin, and with his fingers up again to his forehead, learning the planes of your face. He’s had you memorised visually, but it wouldn’t hurt to familiarise himself with the feeling of you. Banri stretches out his fingers before fully cupping your face with his palms, swallowing when you lean your head into one of them.

“Do you know,” Banri hesitates, “what you’re doing to me?”

His courage wanes, he wants to say more but it’s so difficult sorting out the emotions overflowing within. His head hurts a bit from figuring out what to focus on, the anxiety and panic or the joy and euphoria. The only constant right now was you.

One hand falls to your arm, slowly sliding up and down while leaving goosebumps in its wake. The other continues to rest on the side of your face, thumb inching closer and closer. As the pad brushes against the corner of your lip, your eyes open wide and gaze directly at the familiar pools of blue.

The first thought that flies through your mind is that he’s close enough now to kiss you. Everything about him, the air around them, feels warm and humming with an energy you’ve never felt from anyone before— other than Banri.

“This isn’t easy for me,” Banri lets out a breath, both of you doing your best to not disturb the feeling in the room. His hair falling loose but his eyes never leave yours for a second. “I’ve never… Look, I like being around you. You matter to me. A lot.”

You can’t help the smile that makes its way on your face, the utter adoration, and fondness and love you had for him escaping all at once. With what little space you had between, you pressed your forehead against his.

“You matter to me too. A lot.” You muttered, repeating his confession, closing your eyes again before ever so gently pushing your lips to his.

You’ve imagined how it would be like to kiss Banri before, rough and a little harsh, but as you felt his hand through the baby hairs at the bottom of your head you were more than content at his gentle kissing.

Banri continues kissing you slowly, unsure if the sun had already set, but all that mattered was this moment.

want to order again?

[monomonomagines]

E, R, X, and Z for taka?

Of course, Anon! Thanks for giving me one last Taka request to have looked forward to writing during my long absence. I hope that my enthusiasm will make up for the wait!

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Due to his minimal social experience, Taka is surprisingly a bit more passive than dominant in a relationship. He is sure to always try to take into account both of your opinions on most things but there are times that he will solely rely on you to take the lead and show him how to do some of the more “inappropriate” things that he doesn’t know about (he may think things like kissing more than small pecks are inappropriate at first.) though he’ll try to learn some of the things you show him to use himself. He really focuses on being equals to the best of his ability in nearly every way asides from these few occasions though and will always be sure to try his hardest to do his part in a relationship.

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Taka is very new and equally enthusiastic about being able to try out all the cliche relationship tropes that he’s seen when researching how to be in a relationship. Whether he needs to or not he’ll want to hold open doors, bring you gifts, and give good night and good morning text messages. He’ll stick to being rather strict about studying but he’ll often try to find some creative ways to make study dates as enjoyable as he can, even if it’s just by doing the cliche thing of giving you compliments and affection for every answer you get right when you two practice (though he may just fluster himself in the process at times.)

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Taka has always been rather touch starved so when it comes to affections like kisses and cuddling he ends up enjoying it quite a bit. He doesn’t approve of being too handsy or showy in public, but behind closed doors would enjoy getting just to feel your warmth on his skin in any way you’ll allow him to. He doesn’t care so long as he can be close and feel the comfort he’s been missing out on most of his life whether it’s just by holding your hand, resting his leg against your own, or even embracing you. Though, it is worth noting once again that he may just still get a bit flustered even after the first few times you get close or affectionate with him.

Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Taka is willing to go through any lengths to keep you happy and your relationship healthy. He only wants the best for you and will do his hardest to provide in the ways he thinks are most helpful. It may sometimes be something only he thinks is useful but he does try his hardest to help you keep your grade up, to keep you healthy, encourage you, and provide affection when he thinks you may need it. No stretch is too far for him as even if his family isn’t wealthy or as influential as it was before, he’ll still find a way using his efforts to allow you to always find a solution.

[thatesqcrush]

The Speech

Rafael Barba x Reader. CW: language, implied sex. WC: 1110

***

“Cariño, I am home,” Rafael announced as he entered the apartment you both shared. He set his attaché down by the console adjacent to the door and dropped his keys in the turquoise punch bowl you had repurposed when you moved in. When he received no response, he called out your name once more.

The lights to the apartment were on, your purse was strewn haphazardly on the couch. The apartment smelled faintly of roasted chicken. Sure enough, there were a few pots in the sink that were soaking. On the kitchen counter was plastic Tupperware that was still warm to touch along with a note that simply read, ‘dinner.’

Rafael loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves. Dinner would have to wait. The door to the bedroom was opened a crack and the light was shining through. He could hear you muttering to yourself. When he opened the door fully, he found you pacing, reading outloud to yourself. Your hair was tied up in a messy bun and you wore a lace camisole and loose knit pajama bottoms which were rolled up by the waist. Your glasses were perched on your head.

“Y/N,” Rafael greeted you once more. “I’m home.” You looked up from the paper you were studying intently and gave him a weary smile.

“Rafi – I wasn’t expecting you home for another few hours. You’re early,” you greeted. You put your paper down on the bed and walked up to him, giving him a small kiss. “How was your day?”

“La misma mierda, como siempre,” Rafael replied. A single digit traced the spaghetti strap of your camisole. “And your day?”

You tensed. “I have to give a speech tomorrow; I am so nervous. You know how I feel about public speaking.”

“I know,” Rafael sympathized. “But you’ll do great. I know it.”

“Easy for you to say,” you replied, slightly annoyed. You rolled your eyes for emphasis. “You are mister prosecutor, it’s part of your day to day.”

“It took practice,” Rafael replied. “Even Carisi had to practice my summations in the mirror.”

You threw yourself dramatically on the bed. “I hate this.”

“Practice on me,” Rafael replied, removing his shirt and pants. He folded his clothes and placed them on the armchair in the corner along with the rest of the clothes that needed to be sent to the cleaners.

“I’d be too embarrassed,” you replied now sitting fully up.

“Nonsense,” Rafael replied matter-of-factly, slipping on a pair of his ratty but beloved Harvard sweatpants. “Come to the kitchen. I’m starving. You practice, I’ll eat and listen.”

Groaning, you nodded and followed Rafael in the kitchen. “I am going to need a drink,” you replied.

“Same.”

Rafael opened the Tupperware and inhaled the wafting smell. He plucked a diced carrot from the dinner you had prepared and threw the container into the microwave to reheat it. You walked over to the bar cart and removed two glasses. You poured an equal amount of scotch into each glass and then handed Rafael one.

Rafael cocked a brow at you and cocked his head slightly, waiting for you to begin. You nodded and swallowed your drink in one shot before beginning. Rafael wondered if he was going deaf in his older age – he could barely hear you.

“Louder,” he encouraged. “Can’t hear you.”

You gave him a pointed look. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you if I cannot hear you.”

You continued, this time a bit louder, but still on the quiet end. “Is that better?” you asked.

Rafael crinkled his nose and shrugged. “Not really.”

You threw your hands up exasperatedly. “This is pointless.”

The microwave beeped loudly, signaling its completion. Rafael hopped off the barstool he was sitting on and turned off the microwave. He approached you. “You are so tense,” he noted.

“No me digas,” you replied sardonically.

“Relax,” Rafael replied, turning you around, so you were to his back. His rubbed your shoulders before running his hands down your arms. “You want to project yourself,” he continued. His hands moved from your arms to your belly. “I will help you. You can use breathing in order to speak with confidence and power – just like your favorite ADA.”

“You mean Carisi?” you teased.

“Y/N.” Rafael rumbled your name quietly, ignoring your comment. “Stand so your feet are shoulder width apart, shoulders back.” You adjusted your stance. Rafael raised your arms up and over your head. “Take a deep breath and exhale slowly, keeping your ribcage where it is.”

You did as he instructed. He slowly lowered your arms to your sides and placed one hand on your belly, the other on your chest. “Breathe in again and notice which hand moves. Keep your chest steady and think about breathing into your stomach as you take in a breath. Then exhale slowly, like letting air out of a balloon. Lets do this a few times,” Rafael instructed.

By the seventh or eighth time, you were acutely aware that Rafael’s hands were on your waist but slowly moving down to your hips. Rafael’s breath was warm on your ear. Whatever this exercise was, was turning you on. You felt almost lightheaded.

Rafael held your speech in front of you. “Now, speak on that breath,” he instructed.

You began once more. You were struck on how immediate your voice had changed. Your voice sounded richer, fuller. Automatically you began to speak even louder as your voice resonated with supported sound. “Muy bien,” Rafael murmured against your ear. His five o’clock shadow tickled your skin.

Finally, you finished your speech. Rafael rubbed concentric circles on your hip. The air in the room felt thick. Slowly you turned around to face Rafael and you met his eyes. “How was I… Professor Barba?” you teased.

Rafael swallowed hard. “Un estudiante perfecta.”

You wrapped a hand around the nape of Rafael’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. Your lips mashed against his. His tongue slid into your mouth, licking and nibbling. His hands caressed your body, running up your sides to the swell of your breasts. His hands slipped under your camisole and cupped your breasts, tweaking your nipples. His intent was clear and you were more than in agreement. Your hand reached down to the front of his legs and cupped his hardened cock. You pulled away breathlessly and bit your lip.

You squealed as Rafael picked you up, so your legs were wrapped around his waist. He gripped your thighs tightly as he carried you back to the bedroom. What Rafael said next, sent shivers up your spine in excitement.

“Lets see how loud you can really get.”

FIN

***

Tags: @melsquared79 @madpanda75 @tropes-and-tales @neely1177 @amirightcounselor @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @delia26 @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @garturbo @lovebennycolon @imjustreallynosy @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @sweetsummertime99 @evee87 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandblacktea @redlipstickandplaid @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @letty-o @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoollike @fanficfaeriesrafaelbarbalibrary @theenchantedgalleryofstories @thefanficfaerie @trekinthruthestarwars - anyone else just ask! 💋