#it was a birthday gift from a coworker though so we’ll try it

[betterhomesandhozie]

started reading my first ‘for fun’ german book and i actually understand it so much better than I expected I’m excited

[marvel-ous-m]

Time Will Tell

WC: 3260 | Rating: Teen and Up | Tags: Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, The Unrelenting Anxiety of Gift-Giving | AO3 Link

Summary: It's Eddie's 21st Birthday, and Steve's not sure what gift he should get him, what would show the man how much he loves him, how glad he is that they've been able to share the last six months together. That indecisiveness is made worse by the fact he's known since he was six: people are never honest about whether or not they actually appreciate the gift they've been given- and Steve can't stand the idea of Eddie not liking the gift but pretending for Steve's sake. Steve ends up choosing a gift that he knows Eddie won't like in an effort to save everyone pain. That decision sparks a much-needed conversation, and helps Steve understand that his parent's relationship really isn't the blueprint.

Fic Below the Cut!

“-An emerald, I mean, really, could that man at least try to act like he knows me?” 

Steve’s eyebrows knit together in confusion at his mother’s exclamation, and he tilted his head. His eyes remained trained on his feet, wrapped in small leather loafers that hung off the side of his parent’s bed. “But Mama, I thought you said you loved it earlier? That it was pretty?” 

His mother gave a great, put-upon sigh and turned to face where Steve was seated on the bed. “You’ll understand when you’re older, baby.” Her arms stretched awkwardly around her neck while she spoke, her hands struggling with the clasp of the necklace Steve’s father had presented to her that morning, a gift for her birthday. 

Steve huffed in annoyance and crossed his arms. “But wanna und’stand now.” 

“You’re a big boy now, Steven. You’re six, enunciate your words, and don’t whine.” Her reprimand came stern, and was juxtaposed by the soft “Aha!” moments later, when the clasp of the necklace finally closed. She turned back towards the vanity and rested her precisely manicured hands over the pendant, a gleaming emerald wrapped in gold, then smiled sadly at herself in the mirror. 

“Gifts are rarely about what you actually want, Steven. More often than not, they’re about the monetary value, or meeting a need, or subtly showing the recipient that you have the upper hand. They’re… strategic. I needed a new piece of jewelry for the party tonight, your father delivered- even though the gem he gave me clashes with my eyes, and my skin tone is more complemented by platinum than gold. He gave me this necklace because it makes him look good. It would’ve been nice if he put thought into it- but, well, it would be rude not to be grateful.”

“But… Mama, couldn’t Daddy do both? Get you something you need, and make it something you like?” 

His mother’s smile wavered and her eyes softened from where they were now gazing at Steve through his reflection in the vanity mirror. “He could, yes, but it’s like you said- I told him I loved it. As far as your father is concerned, he’s done exactly that- gotten me something I like and need. I’m not going to tell him otherwise. Does that make sense?”

No. In Steve’s six-year-old brain, it really, really didn’t. “I guess so.”

His mother nodded at him from the mirror, then began to put on her earrings. “Good. Now, do you remember what to say when one of your father’s coworkers asks you what you want to be when you grow up?” 

This was something that Steve could understand, a response his mother had been teaching him for the last few weeks. Steve beamed. “I want to be an attorney like my Daddy!” 

“Good job, baby. Now, go and brush your teeth- we’ll be leaving in a few minutes. It’s your first time joining us at dinner, I want to make sure you’re absolutely perfect.”

“Okay Mama!” Steve scooted off the edge of the bed and toddled towards his parent’s bedroom door, being careful to walk with flat feet so he wouldn’t crease the leather of his loafers, just how his Mama taught him.

“Oh, and Stevie? Don’t tell your father how I feel about the necklace, okay? That’s a just for us conversation.” 

Steve nodded, familiar with the concept of keeping certain conversations he had with his mother or father a secret from the other. “Alright, Mama.” 

Eddie didn’t like his gift, and Steve knew that. Had prepared for that exact outcome, in fact.

He wasn’t sure what would be good enough to get Eddie for his birthday. They’d been dating for almost six months already, had been flirting around each other for even longer, and Steve was at a loss. 

What do you get for the person who you fought hell with? For the person who beat the odds and lived despite everything, for the person you’ve seen at their lowest- the person who saw you at your lowest? What item could possibly express how much Steve adores Eddie, could say how happy he is that Eddie even made it to his 21st birthday after everything that happened? What could serve as a physical testament to the truth of all of their ‘I love you’s and all of the ‘I’m so glad you’re here’s?  

Steve got Eddie a watch. 

It was the backup gift of the backup gift of the backup gift. A decision made entirely out of cowardice, his mother’s words ringing in his ear. 

He had wanted to get Eddie a new battle vest initially- then decided against it, because he was worried it would serve as too much of a reminder of what had happened last Spring. 

He’d thought about a guitar case next, an idea that sprung up when he was walking by the music shop downtown. He literally face-palmed moments later, gaining a strange look from a passerby, when he realized that Eddie’s guitar had been left in the Upside Down, that he still didn’t have a new electric guitar, and he already had a case for his acoustic. 

Naturally, a new guitar came to mind as a gift idea next, but he nixed that immediately too. The whole reason Eddie hadn’t bought a new guitar yet was because he was very particular about the instrument- and Steve had no idea about all of the different things to consider in guitar buying, so he’d probably just fuck it up. He considered some other stuff, too- new materials to play D&D, concert tickets- but his mind just kept screaming at him, telling him that he didn’t know Eddie well enough to give him any of those gifts.

Really, all he could think about was how badly he would fuck up giving Eddie any meaningful gift- how he’d probably never know if Eddie didn’t like it, because people always pretended that they liked a gift even if they didn’t, so it was basically impossible to tell whether something was actually appreciated. 

At the end of the day, it was just easier to abide by the words his mother told him at six and get something that would look nice. Steve wouldn’t be putting his emotions on the line by getting a risky gift, something that Eddie would either love more than anything or absolutely despise. 

It was a gift that didn’t match Eddie’s personality at all, and Steve knew that. Eddie was always running late to things, but that’s just how he was. It was endearing, a trait that was lovable, not something to be fixed by having a watch on his wrist. 

Steve had, in fact, only realized the negative connotation of the gift after he’d decided to buy it, but it was too late to decide on something else, so he tried to ignore the way his stomach hurt throughout the process of purchasing the thing, and hoped for the best. 

Eddie didn’t care about showings of wealth either, so it was pretty pointless for Steve to get him such a nice watch. It wasn’t, like, a Rolex, but he had to save up a bit to buy it. It was made up of dark gray metal with a black leather band, a decision that was made out of Steve trying his best to at least make the gift something that wouldn’t clash with Eddie’s usual attire. 

He put a bow on the box it came in and added it to the pile of gifts at Eddie’s birthday party. He tried to stop himself from looking at Eddie when he was going through the process of opening presents, ignored the way his hackles rose when Eddie opened up the watch and gave a tight smile, then a forced-out “Thanks” to Steve, and moved on to opening the next gift wordlessly. 

Every other gift elicited a dramatic response from Eddie- a drawing from Will, new dice and minifigures from the kids, a mixtape from Robin, some sci-fi books from Nancy, homemade brownies (yes, *those* brownies) from Jon and Argyle- 

And Steve got Eddie a watch. 

The rest of the guests to Eddie’s birthday party slowly filtered out of the trailer after all the presents were opened, that having been the close of the party’s festivities. Steve stuck around, cleaning up the trash and dirty dishes strewn around the surrounding area. 

Steve and Eddie danced around each other wordlessly- Steve cleaning up while Eddie moved the various gifts from the living room to his bedroom. When all of the leftover paper plates, napkins, and cups were thrown away, and Steve couldn’t find any other dishes to wash in the kitchen, he returned to the living room. 

Eddie was seated on the couch by that point, and the watch- in its box, the lid propped open to display the thing- was resting on the coffee table in front of him. “Are you mad at me, Steve? Because, if you are, we could’ve just- I don’t know, talked, instead of you embarrassing me in front of all of our friends on my birthday.” 

Steve felt the familiar burn of tears and ducked his head so that Eddie wouldn’t see how his words had affected him.

Eddie wasn’t following the script. 

The script which said, no matter what, just pretend to like the present so you don’t appear ungrateful. The script that Steve had been raised on, the script that taught him how to play his part. The script that had motivated him to get the gift in the first place. 

“I didn’t mean to be late to Party movie night last week, or to our date three weeks ago, it’s just hard for me to realize what time it is when I’m stuck in my head about something. I didn’t realize that it was bothering you so much- you could’ve told me, y’know? I just feel like shit now, and I’m not even angry- not at you, I’m mad at myself and I’m upset that you didn’t just tell me, and-” 

“-I’m sorry.” Steve’s apology came whispered, barely audible due to his head still hanging, staring down at his feet. 

His feet, which were wrapped in white, scuffed tennis shoes. 

A far cry from the loafers he’d worn at six. 

Steve wrapped his arms around himself and focused on taking measured breaths. 

He was so clearly detached from the life of his parents, from the unhealthy ideology that stemmed from having too much money and being in a practical relationship rather than one that was built on love. 

His relationship with Eddie couldn’t be more different, yet he’d slipped back into that familiar, thinly-veiled selfishness the second he felt anxiety over getting Eddie the wrong thing. Eddie had always been honest with him, so how could Steve ever think that he’d pull the same passive-aggressive misrepresentation of love that his mother so often portrayed to his father?

“Steve?” 

It seemed Eddie had crossed the room while Steve had been distracted by his own thoughts, seeing as the man was now cupping Steve’s jaw with his hand, a concerned look in his eyes. “Where’d you go, sweetheart?” 

“S-sorry. I’m sorry, I just- I don’t think I’m good at it.” Steve’s words came quicker than his thoughts, and his breath hitched as he spoke due to his steady crying.

“Good at what, Stevie?”

“Gifts.”

Eddie hummed under his breath, his thumb gently swiping against Steve’s cheekbone in an effort to wipe away his tears. “Care to expand on that, baby? Because the Stevie I know just gave Robin a weekend trip to Chicago for her birthday a month ago, and it made her cry so hard she almost threw up.”

“It’s different.”

“What’s different?”

“We-we’re together, and- shit, Eds, I had a ton of ideas of things I thought you’d like, but I just kept thinking I’d get it wrong, but you wouldn’t- look, you love me too, right?” 

Eddie huffed out a soft breath of confusion, and his other hand moved to rest on the small of Steve’s back, pulling him into a hug. “Of course I love you, I tell you everyday”

“Yeah, I know.” Steve’s voice was near pleading, wobbling with renewed emotion while fresh tears slipped down his cheeks. “So even if I got you the wrong thing, I’d never know that, and then I’d just keep fucking up, and next thing you know, we’d resent each other and disguise that hatred in things that are supposed to be displays of love, like gifts, and we’d end up like my parents, and I can’t do that to you, you never deserve to feel that way-” 

“Hold on- sorry to cut you off, sweetheart, but I feel like I got a little lost there. C’mon, let’s sit.” Eddie wrapped his hand around Steve’s and tugged him towards the couch, then gently shoved Steve onto a cushion and curled up next to him, keeping their hands linked. “Okay, I have three questions. One, why do you think you’d get me the ‘wrong thing’; two, why wouldn’t you know if I didn’t like something; and three, if I love you so much- which you know I do, why do you think we’d end up like your parents?” 

Steve sniffed, scrubbing his eyes with the palm of his free hand to try and wipe the tears away. “It’s- okay, so, I wanted to get you a new vest, right? But that would just be a reminder of what happened back in the Upside Down, and then I wanted to get you a guitar case, but that wouldn’t work for obvious reasons- then I thought of a new guitar, but I’d definitely fuck that up because I don’t know the first thing about guitars. I thought about some other stuff, like for D&D or whatever, but I didn’t think that would be enough- and I just kept psyching myself out, right? Because my whole childhood, my dad got my mom these gifts, but they weren’t things she actually wanted, and all I could think about is how I could accidentally do that for you. 

“My mom, she always told him how happy she was, then would turn around and tell me or her friends how much she hated the thing and- I couldn’t stomach the idea of that happening, of not knowing that I upset you, so I just- I defaulted to something that would look nice, right? A strategic gift, rather than something special. I honestly didn’t even think about you being late to things until after I decided to buy it, and then I hated that I’d made that decision, because I don’t think you being late to stuff is something that needs to change, I actually kinda love it about you because it means that you were so wrapped up in something else, something you love. 

“Anyways- I just went through with it, bought the thing because I didn’t know what else to do, because knowing that you wouldn’t like it honestly made it easier than getting my hopes up about you liking something and then always questioning whether you actually liked it because people never really say what they think, but then you just came out and said what you thought about the frankly shit gift I got you, and I can’t believe it took that to make me realize how fuckin’ stupid I was being by just falling back into the toxic shit my parents taught me growing up. I’m so sorry, Eds. You didn’t deserve that. We’re obviously not going to end up like my parents, stuck together and hating each other- but sometimes, when I navigate us, I can’t help but go back to them, because they were my blueprint. Does that make sense?” 

Eddie’s hold on his hand hadn’t waned throughout Steve’s rambling explanation, and only grew tighter, more supportive, at the close of Steve’s question. “Yeah, sweetheart, that makes sense. I hate that you found yourself going down that line of thinking, but I understand that that’s where you’d go if your parents created that atmosphere for you.” 

The two sat in silence for a few minutes, Steve’s attention having turned towards the rings on Eddie’s hand that was tangled with his own, while Eddie used his other hand to gently card through Steve’s hair. Steve’s tears had slowed throughout his expounding and had become the occasional sniffle, joined by a shuddering breath. 

Eddie eventually broke their silence, his voice soft and his tone careful. “For what it’s worth, I can tell you put a lot of thought into it. Even if it’s not really something I was hoping for, you chose a gift that would go with my outfits, chose my favorite colors. I can tell how much it mattered to you to get something I’d like, even if you defaulted to making it something that you knew wouldn’t mean, y’know, the world to me.” 

Steve huffed, shifting so that he could burrow his face in the crook of Eddie’s neck. “You don’t have to try and make it not shitty, Eds, I know it sucks. I knew that going in.” 

“I’m being honest, I still appreciate the good intentions behind it.” 

“I’m sorry that it made you feel so shitty- sorry that now you have to deal with all this on top of it, on your fucking birthday-” 

“Stevie, baby, it’s okay. Being with you- that alone means the world to me. You could’ve gotten me nothing and I would’ve been grateful to be with you, because in my opinion, you are the greatest gift I’ve ever received. As for working through childhood shit on my birthday, that’s not, like, a chore for me. I’m happy to be here, to talk about these things with you, because I love you, and that’s part of our love. Okay?”

Eddie pressed a kiss to Steve’s temple, and Steve melted underneath him, letting out a soft sigh. “Yeah, okay.” 

Steve shifted closer and kissed the dip of Eddie’s shoulder, then wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist to pull the man closer. “I still wanna do something to apologize, something to celebrate you rather than make us fight.”

“You didn’t make us fight, baby. I was just confused. We talked, we figured stuff out, we’re holding each other, everything is good. You don’t have to make it up to me, because there’s nothing to make up.” 

Steve hummed against Eddie’s neck, his hand moving up to brush through his curls. “I don’t have to, but I still want to. Maybe not tonight, because I kinda think we should just cuddle and eat leftover cake and watch a movie, but tomorrow I wanna take you out, just drive for a few hours, we can find a place to grab some food together. After that, maybe we can come back here, hold each other a while. We can do that thing you like so much with your belt and my hands…” Steve trailed off, his tone lilting into something flirtatious. 

Eddie gave a giddy chuckle in response, flicking Steve’s bicep playfully. “Yeah, alright loverboy. As long as you’re feeling up for it, and not doing it because you feel like you have to do it- I think that I would love that.” 

“Then consider it done.” Steve sat back slightly to press a kiss to Eddie’s lips, then returned to his spot against Eddie’s shoulder. 

“Sounds like an outstanding gift. I’ll be counting down the seconds ‘til then, sweetheart.” 

[thenightfolknetwork]

I am in an awkward position. It had started when my parents had arranged my marriage as part of a contract. I learnt of this about six months ago when on the morning of my thirtieth birthday, I opened the front door to head to my parent’s for a family lunch, only to run into the wedding parties.

Now, I understand arranged marriages still happen, and it can be ‘healthy’ when those involve have agency. Though in my case there are some factors. For starters, no one had told me, which I think would have been needed when I had first gotten married five years back (widowed now). Two, it seemed my parents had arranged this as they had gotten certain… payments, which did explain certain things. And thirdly, they had arranged more than one marriage for me.

So it was a bit awkward going to my parents place with my son and my nine (9) new partners, especially with even them having not been informed that I had been ‘promised’ to others. And to add insult to injury, the ‘contracts’ don’t exclude multiple marriages which I was told my parents had suggested on some guise or other, when really just so they get more ‘dowry’. Which ironically had to then go into buying a new residence as my then current flat couldn’t accommodate *Deep breath* Highlands Minotaur, Mediterranean Sharkmer, Siberian Orc Chief, Oni warrior, American Wereboar, Vampiric Lord, Djinn Librarian, Cerberi Guard (though they have three heads and different personalities, they say are one), The Prince of the Arslani Giants, Bringer of the Sun and Vanquisher of the Old One nonamehere (He insisted I include his full title), and two sapios (me and my son).

My partners(?) were at least understanding helping send the marriage documents to a family solicitor. Unfortunately, the marriages can’t be annulled for some time due to a variety of intrinsic rituals, oaths to unknowable entities, and vague languages making them legally air tight. Because it seemed despite not being aware of the other, each contract effectively patches potential loopholes in another. And I doubt anyone here wants me to try and kick off the apocalypse since that is one of the few methods which can null all contracts. Still have to sort out guardianship for my son, as I’m sure you can guess my parents are no longer an option.

Now, this isn’t the thing I need advice with, though if you have any suggestions for a good gift I wouldn’t say no, as I’m sure this paradoxical Gordian Knot will haunt my lawyer’s nightmare for the remainder of her days.

Nor did I send this simply to vent, I have been doing that with my friends and cousins. Although, I assume you wouldn’t try to joke saying ‘At least you don’t have to worry about the dating market”, or offer me a book for my toddler called “Daddy, Papa, Pops, Pater, Dada, Baba, Papi, Bo, Chichi, Missieri, and Me”.

I am more asking for advice on… well, is it appropriate that I really like them.

I mean, sure the move and circumstances weren’t ideal. And it’s not easy for ten adults and one kid in the same home with everyone having different sleep schedules, dietary restrictions, physical requirements and cultural clashes. I still have mornings where I wake up and think there’s an earthquake happening before my sleep deprived brain remembers the size of certain partners who decide to go for morning jogs. Or that I have to triple check food in the fridges as blood sausages safe for me to eat are different to those that others eat and vice versa. Or how most electronics are sequestered to an office room due to their thaumaturgically reactions.

But these minor annoyances don’t really stay on mind when having long talks at night, discussing things like who’ll be doing pick up from daycare tomorrow. How we’ll be complaining to each other about rubbish coworkers and the council changing trash pick up days whilst preparing dinner. The headed debates on origins of certain feasts and whose pack fought whose coven. Even the relaxed silence when not commenting on the sudden disappearance of a Neo-Nazi who showed up in town a few days ago and how there seemed to be suddenly more blood and offal based foods in the fridges.

We have gotten to… i guess dating, a bit weird since we are married, and even gotten rather intimate (I will not elaborate). But still, I worry if I am leading them on considering the circumstances and how we had been looking to get the marriages annulled, or that most had basically upended their own lives to move here so I’m not sure if right to just kick them out. Not to mention my son, since they have been good with him over the past months and I worry about the loss of a support system.

It’s just… I worry a bit that I am just overthinking this all. Am I?

(Sorry so long, just realised

Goodness me, reader. You certainly have a lot on your plate! I'm very glad to hear that you're sharing your feelings with friends and venting to them as necessary. Everyone involved seems to be handling the situation about as well as can be expected. Apart from your parents, of course, who sound, if you don't mind my saying, like a pair of quite astonishingly inconsiderate grifters.

I don't think you're overthinking things, either. This would be a tricky enough situation even if there were not a child at the centre of it. As it is, I think it only right that you should want to consider your options before embarking on a course of action that could disrupt your son's happiness and well-being.

That said, I am struggling to see the real downsides here. You say you've already started dating your partners, and shared some intimate time with them. They sound a kind and caring bunch, who respect you and your son. And you all seem to be enjoying life together.

If I am reading your letter correctly, it sounds as if the biggest problem here is overcoming societal norms and expectations around what a family “should” look like. Yes, you are all already married. Yes, you are trying to annul those marriages. But that is only a matter of paperwork and technicality.

The relationships you have with each of your partners, and which they have with each other and with your son, are not binary states to be decided based on whether or not a contract somewhere says you are bound to one another. They are living, growing, organic connections between real, complicated people, and need to be treated as such.

The circumstances that brought you all together are certainly… unusual. But what does that signify, as long as you are enjoying the relationships you're developing together? Similarly, there's no reason you can't at once want to get your marriages annulled, and want to keep living together and exploring what life together might look like.

Ultimately, this isn't an issue that can be solved by worrying about it. You need to talk to your partners and hear their feelings on the issue. But please, don't be constrained by old-fashioned, ill-fitting ideas of how you “ought” to behave. There is no reason you can't have your cake (annulment) and eat it (sleep with all 9 of your heroic demi-god partners at once)

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[notmrskennedy]

Bites and Bullet Holes

(Spencer Reid x Female leaning but sorta GN! Reader)

Summary: Spencer, during college, was bitten by a dog. Working a case involving dogs brings back old memories and friends...

W/C: 3,384

Warnings: Dog bites, bullet holes, bad writing? 

A/N: Guess what I found y’all? I haven’t edited it one single bit but I hope it goes over well anyway. When I was working at the kennel I kept having anxiety over one of my kids getting into a fight so I made this. Be a little extra gentle with this one. 

---

As he leaned over the victim, he made the mistake of thinking about you. Spencer thought he’d gotten over it. The whole randomly thinking about you thing—the thing that’s happened too many times before. He’d chalked it up to you being best friends 15 years ago. Told himself that it’s normal to miss your friends from college. 

But over a dead body? This was new. 

Though he supposes the dead girl could’ve looked like you in another timeline. There’s facial structure similarities—at least to you 15 years ago at 19. She’s been strangled with her dog’s leash and there’s some unspoken quality about her that just…jerks him into nostalgia over you. 

(You are probably the one that got away, but if he’s being honest, you live in DC. He could go see you right now if he wanted to.)

Morgan leans over Spencer and points at the dog leash. “It had to be someone she knew if the dog went off with our un-sub.”

Spencer nods, fidgeting with the 15 year old scars on the inside of his wrist. Whether or not Morgan noticed, he thankfully doesn’t press. Spencer is having enough trouble stamping down that knee-jerk reaction to think about you, let alone if Derek thinks to point out the magical, ‘hey weren’t you bitten by a dog?’

Spencer doesn’t remember the incidence well enough to comment. He wonders if you do. 

“We’ll have to check shelters for the dog,” Spencer remarks. “3.3 million dogs enter shelters every year in the US.” 

Morgan nods, pulls off a glove, pulls out his phone. Spencer looks around the park. Behind the police tape are plenty of people walking their dogs. The sorts of breeds that you’ve gushed about 15 years ago. His brain knew too much about dobermans, shepherds, mallinois—he could even hear that pretty little gasp you had when you’d point out a particularly well trained monster of a pet. 

Spencer wonders if you ever did anything with your finance degree, if you even ended up finishing college at all. You’d come close to dropping out over calculus—he hadn’t been around long enough to help you through the even harder stuff. This wasn’t the first time he’d wanted Garcia to look you up, but it was the first time he’d considered it. 

“Music to my ears, mama,” Morgan laughs into the phone and Spencer tunes back in. 

“I’ll get that puppy BOLO out,” Garcia chirps back. Spencer can imagine her wringing a fluffy pencils through her fingers. “We’re going to find this doggie and make sure that psycho didn’t get him too.”

Spencer smiles despite himself. Penelope would’ve liked you. 

#

JJ sets coffee down in front of his stack of files. She smiles, gracefully sits down next to him. Spencer tries his best to ignore her insistence. Tries to ignore the ever prominent eye contact screaming ‘We’re going to talk about something uncomfortable!’ 

“So, Spence,” she says, pausing for his attention with a sip of her own coffee. He looks up for half a glance before going back to the files. He doesn’t know why, but he’s sure there’s something in this stack of work the first victim had brought home with her. They all knew the un-sub, he had to be somewhere. 

“Spencer,” she says more insistently. He makes the mistake of looking up, of letting her place a hand on his. She gently turns the wrist over and pointedly glances towards the teeth marks. “Are you doing okay?”

He opens his mouth, but decides some things are better kept to himself. He thinks about saying that no, he wasn’t alright, that being plagued by thoughts of the first-love-of-his-life is haunting him more than the dog fight. 

That he can see your face in each of these victims. In their dogs. In the places they died. 

Dogs didn’t like him. They never did. The dog bite wasn’t the big deal out of the altercation. 

JJ won’t understand, so he offers her a truthful smile and says, “I’m okay. Seriously. More than 4.5 million people are bitten by dogs each year. I’m not special.”

JJ nods. Spencer goes back to his files. He forgets to hide his lovesick agony. JJ forgets not to notice. 

#

It’s 4AM and he knows he’s remembering it wrong. That the dog hadn’t been that big. That the teeth hadn’t really gotten him that bad. The bright red devil eyes and thousand yards of slobber were more than grossly incorrect. 

He sits up in bed and forces himself to remember the parts that were real. How real you had been. Before and after. 

Your car had broken down as you were leaving for work—already late—and you’d begged him for a ride. Promised calculus homework on your boss’s couch and only having to let the dogs out. No shit. No bleaching crates. No nothing. Just you, him, and some calculus homework. 

He’d caved. Now, running his hands over his eyes, he laughs at how obvious he had to have been. A skinny little 19 year old pimple of a boy majorly crushing on the first person to pick him out of a crowd and decide they’d be friends. The first friend who’d forced him to a tailgate at a football game. The only person he’d do absolutely anything for. 

And it was just like you promised. Your cute little nose wrinkle. Your horribly frustrated glares. Your over dramatic ‘I’m dropping out!’s every fifteen minutes. And it’d been great until you both heard a thunderous snap of a wooden fence and the wildest, most murderous howling he’d ever heard. 

You’d both bolted for the door, scrambling to get through the gates into the back. There’d been a moment of calm. Another beat. Another. And…you both had stumbled around the corner to find the next door neighbour’s dog, broken chain, trying to kill one of the kennel’s dogs. 

There had been no moment’s hesitation on Spencer’s part. He’d stupidly rushed forward, lodged his hand between the neighbour’s mutt and the sweetest dog he’d ever met. He’d yanked her free from the mutt’s jaws, only to find his own wrist dragging along the teeth. 

(He realised later that he’d always had a propensity to run head first into danger. No calculations needed.)

There’d been two beats for the dog to process it’s chew toy was in Spencer’s arms. To process that Spencer made a better victim. That Spencer’s throat and limbs were softer and easier to tear. Thankfully, he’d scrambled back enough that when the dog launched, it didn’t catch flesh. It chomped on air. Less than three inches from him. 

Fangs. Tightened lips. Black gums. Slobber. 

The mutt could be equated to Stephen King’s The Sun Dog. Always hesitant to process his trauma, it’s the one book—gifted by you during a Halloween birthday for him—that sits untouched on his bookshelves. There’s too much of you in the inscription in the cover. Too much of that horrible mutt in the pages. 

The next part of the night blurred in his memories. In his near perfect memory, it blurred. Trauma, right? 

You’d screamed. You were in front of him. You had the dog’s chain in your hands. He was running. The dog was heavy in his arms. His arm stung. You were screaming. He should’ve gone back. 

Five god-awful minutes later, you’d come into the house. Limping. Clutching onto your arm. You’d taken one look at Spencer running his wrist under the tap and forgotten about your own injuries. Despite the blood dripping off your arm. Or the quiet yelp every time you stretched. You’d barely taken ‘I’m fine, you’re the one bleeding’ as a reason to not bandage him up first. 

The only thing that calmed down the dream every time he had it was the memory of holding your hand while you got stitches. How your face pinched with the pain. How you’d said, ‘next time, it’s your turn to take the bullet.’ How he’d smiled and promised. 

Spencer watches the clock tick by and decides it’s too late to go back to sleep. Hotch’ll be up in an hour. No need to delay his start. Women were dying. Women you would’ve been friends with.

#

“Okay, crime-fighters, I found our connection,” Garcia chirps over the speaker phone. “All of our victims attended very specialised dog training courses at a facility just outside of DC. The owner said they’d send in one of their trainers to talk to you. Should be there anytime now.”

“What kind of specialised training?” Emily asks. Spencer feels like he should be contributing, should be processing any of this, but his head is pounding. He doesn’t have a hangover, but god does it feel like it. 

Garcia hums as she types. “It’s a military facility. Awww, they’ve got puppy pictures on their website!”

“Garcia—���

“Right, right. It’s a top notch facility and oh! A bunch of the FBI dogs graduate from there. I wonder if they get little caps and gowns and—“

“Hey, baby girl, the trainer’s here. We gotta run,” Morgan interrupts, though he’s all smiles to stare at whomever is plaguing his interest. 

There’s another squeal of please get puppy pictures before the call cuts and Spencer finally has the self preservation to look. And god does he look. 

15 years has made no difference on your skin and he can’t believe he’s not staring at you from across a lecture hall. The only indication you’ve changed is the nervous smile you’ve plastered on and the dog at your side. Every fun fact about german shepherds instantly crosses his mind and he can’t help but drop his jaw a little further. 

It sinks to the floor when you spot him and wave. You wave. At him. In front of coworkers. 

He’s out of his seat before he can stop himself. That easy smile reserved for movie nights falls back into place on your lips. Twinkles in your eyes. 15 years haven’t passed. Maybe he needs to check for pimples again. 

“Y/n,” he croaks and the same time his name leaves your lips. The dog at your side stands and you correct the gesture with a harsh word in what he’s sure is German. 

“FBI, huh?” Your eyes trail over every inch of him, crossing your arms in a relaxed, familiar kind of way. “I expected more math, Mr. I Like Derivatives.”

“The shepherd there doesn’t look like finance either, y/n,” he teases back like no time has passed. Like he doesn’t immediately feel incredibly guilty for ditching you for the academy. 

“Oh come on,” you huff, “you really think that I was cut out for an office job? I lasted six months.”

And before he can warn you, even think about warning you about the team that’s slowly creeping up behind him, they are all suddenly there. Very keen on knowing the ins and outs of how you know Dr. Spencer Reid. 

“Reid, you gonna introduce us?” Morgan smirks, clapping a painful hand on Spencer’s shoulder. You busy yourself with petting the dog at your hip, looking everywhere but Morgan’s insistent gaze. 

“Guys, this is my friend y/n from college.” 

JJ raises an eyebrow at the lack of explanation, but plows ahead with introductions. Takes charge of guiding you to an interview room. Gets through the entire interview without once asking about your relationship with him. 

Morgan watches Spencer rubbing the scars and makes the leap. “You okay, kid?” 

Spencer breaks from staring at your face as you talk about getting your start in Germany—Germany—and swallows. This was fine. It’s okay to tell his friend—his brother—about the story he’s never really talked about. 

“I stupidly put myself in the middle of a dog fight,” Spencer grits out, flexing and un-flexing his fingers. Every scar burns and he can’t help but stare at your smile again. “Y/n saved my life. She choked out the dog, Morgan, before he got a hold of me. Left the hospital with 12 stitches.”

“Oh,” was his all too helpful response. They both turned back to the interview. How everything jovial about your entire countenance shifted once JJ started mentioning the victims. 

“Look, Agent Jareau,” you say, leaning dangerously far away from the conversation, “They are—they were really smart women with some dangerous dogs. I don’t know—I just—there’s a lot of sickos out there.”

Every profiler within a 20 mile radius can hear the change in tone, can hear the fear. Spencer knows a lot can change in 15 years, but he thought for sure you’d never become a serial killer. He doesn’t know if it’s all his years in the bureau or if he’s still too attached to you, but you don’t seem like the killer. Not like JJ seems to think so. Sure, you’re terrified, but the dog you have is nosing your arm. Giving you big ole puppy eyes. Spencer doesn’t think a serial killer can pour that much into a relationship with an animal. 

“What do you mean?” JJ clocks the movement and switches to a maternal type of body language, tone. “Is there something going on?”

Your hand pauses on the dog’s head, and it noses your hand into action. “I, uh, just got a weird letter two weeks ago. It wasn’t—it was just weird. Off-putting.”

“Right before the first victim,” Spencer mutters. Weird letters indicated stalking. Victims with you as a central point meant stalking. Stalking meant you were probably next. Oh, god, you were next. 

JJ stretched a hand across the table and took yours. “You’ll get through this. You’ll get through this, y/n.”

#

Spencer didn’t know what to do with his hands. It was so much worse than normal. Should he stand? But what should he do with his hands because crossing them seemed too defensive? Or should he just sit down? But where? And was that rude?

Instead, he just took the cup of tea you offered and followed you like a lost puppy. Granted, it was your house and he was definitely lost. He also felt vaguely at home—there were a decent amount of bookshelves by his standards and even more mismatched furniture than he had. The house was well cared for and when you sat him down on your couch, you swept away a stack of training manuals, all sporting worn covers. 

Was it wrong to feel like he was settling onto your old apartment couch for movie nights?

You puff out a breath of air and lean your head dramatically into the back of the couch. “So, since you’re my FBI escort, is it wrong to ask if you still like cheesy 90s movies?”

He shakes his head. Grins. “You still have Legally Blonde?”

You just giggle as you head for a stack of movies. You strike up some conversation as you rummage and he knows he’s hooked all over again. It’s going to take weeks to get over you again. It’d taken months the last time, and he feels slightly less attached this time. But did he really think it would take more than a simple question about the latest thing he’s read? He wishes he knew you better, just as well as you seem to still know him. 

Though by the end of the movie, you’ve both returned to your college days. Practically curled into each other’s side. You still have horrible commentary about the movie, peppered in with Spencer’s annoying movie trivia. If it was anyone else, he figures, he would’ve been kicked out long ago. 

You still distinctly smell of vanilla, flailing the scent around as you move closer and further and closer again. You wear enthusiasm with your whole body and if you aren’t turning rapidly between facing Spencer and the movie, how could you possibly begin to explain correctly? 

Your shoulder keeps a constant pressure against his, your knees half over his thigh. There’s too many instances of hollering and laughing that you grab onto his knee to steady yourself. If this hadn’t been a protective detail, he might’ve lost his mind. 

Thank god for focus. Work. Work. Work. Not your hands on his knee. Definitely not your smile as you declare your affection for scented resume stationary. Totally not how hot it’s getting under your too affectionate gaze. 

“Spence, I really missed this,” you whisper, nudging your shoulder with his. “I know it’s weird to be thrown together after 15 years, but I—I missed you.”

“I—“ missed you too; fell in love with you in college; think I love you now. 

But there’s no time for heartfelt declarations when someone’s incessantly banging on the door. Spencer’s got half a mind to get the door for you, holster his gun, focus on keeping you safe. The banging doesn’t soften as he calls out that he’s on his way. If anything it gets worse. 

And it should’ve been the first red flag of the night. 

Spencer opens the door and thinks very loudly, “why the fuck do I always run headfirst into danger?” 

Their un-sub, a buzzcut that looks more Army that not, shakes a pistol at Spencer and demands to be let inside. There’s only so many ways to defuse the situation, so he back ups, tucks you behind him. Their un-sub winds a little tighter, shaking like one of those monkeys with cymbals. 

“McLaggen?” you whimper behind Spencer and the Army man fires a shot into the floor. You grip tighter onto Spencer’s shirt, digging in your fingers dangerously close to his skin. 

The buzzcut is red, boiling over with rage, words bubbling out of his throat. “Y/n, I just can’t stand to see you with them. You never notice me. You’re always working, so I thought I’d get your attention. Cut the competition. I just—you mean so much to me, y/n. You mean too much.”

Spencer is sure he won’t remember this day accurately as he pushes you just a little further behind him. He’s about to do something so incredibly stupid. Dear lord, why the fuck is he like this? And he lunges. 

The gun’s trapped in both of their hands. There’s one more bullet fired—at the ground he’s sure. There’s a squeak of fear. Just enough of a distraction. One more ounce of weight thrown around. One more lasting punch. McLaggen lands on the floor. The gun skitters away. McLaggen groans as he’s handcuffed.

You gasp and he realises immediately that he’s bleeding. That he’s on the floor. That there is a bullet lodged in his thigh. Again. 

One string of swears later, you’re on the phone with 911. Yes, he’s shot. Yes, there’s another in handcuffs. No, I’m not a whore, send the damn ambulance.  

You take his hand as he lays there, much like he did in the hospital 15 years ago. Unlike then, you’ve got tears pricking at your eyes. You’re sniffling like a school girl, and he’s not sure if you’ve said that aloud. 

“Spencer!” You wipe a stray tear. Squeeze his hand too tightly. “Why the hell, you freakin’ moron, did you take a bullet for me?”

He laughs, bubbling up out of his chest before he can stop it. You are too pretty to be this upset at his laughter. You are too lovely to be worried about him. To still be worried, like nothing has changed one bit. 

Every inch of him is trembling. Blood loss and bullets are bitches.

“Y/n,” he wheezes through dry lungs and more leg pain than he remembers there being, “I promised.”

You blink your eyes. What the hell are you talking about, Spencer Reid, you absolute idiot?

“I promised I’d take the next bullet. In the hospital.” He grins, groans as he moves to drag you into a hug. “I’m a man of my word, y/n, and I promise that if I keep the leg, we’re going out. Properly.”

“You’re lucky I like you,” you grumble into his ear and squeeze his neck tighter. If the paramedics don’t bother to pull you off, who’s to say you won’t stay like that forever? Attached to the loveable, danger prone idiot, who traded dog bites for bullet holes?

[love-and-monsters]

Siren Song

M monster X F human, 4,660 words

I initially had other plans for the story I was posting today, but inspiration really struck for this one, and I decided to write it as an early birthday gift to both myself and this blog! My birthday’s tomorrow and this blog turned three last week! Thanks everyone who follows me, it’s really nice to have so many people appreciating this little space with me. 

Anyway, this story involves a mysterious siren calling to you at night. But is he friend or foe? And can he really give you what you desire?

There was something singing in the depths of the castle.

You had been in the castle for only a few days. It was a job, a fairly unique job and one you took with no small amount of pride. The castle was undergoing restoration and you, along with several other people, had been called in to carefully restore different aspects of the castle.

You were repairing the beautifully embroidered tapestries that hung throughout the castle. For a couple of days, it had even been nice. The work was interesting, there were other craftspeople around the castle to talk to, and the pay was decent. Admittedly, the castle was warm (it was the middle of summer and there was obviously no air conditioning) but other than that, it was overall a great stroke of fortune that you’d gotten this job.

And then the singing had started.

At first, you’d thought it was something you were just dreaming about. You’d wake in the morning with the last notes echoing in your mind and the fading remnants of music-filled dreams. Exhaustion had followed you throughout the day, like your sleep had been restless. No matter how early you went to bed, you woke with a foggy head.

And then the sleepwalking started.

It started small, though that hadn’t really been that much less concerning. You’d woken up standing across your room, staring at a wall. For a time, you’d chalked it up to the stress of a new job and a new location and hadn’t told anyone.

But the longer you stayed in the castle, the worse it became. You started waking up in the hall. In other rooms. Waking up became a slower and more difficult process. You would become aware that you were up and out of bed, but the soothing, wordless singing that surrounded you prompted you to keep dreamily moving forward. There was usually a full minute of gradual awakening before you grew aware enough to stop yourself.

It really started to worry you when you woke up in a part of the castle you didn’t recognize. Technically, there were no areas that were off limits, but there were places that you just didn’t regularly go in the course of your job. And the dank, slightly moldy basement was one of them. There had been a moment of awful, gut-wrenching panic when you realized that you were in pitch-blackness, so dark that there was no difference between closing your eyes and opening them. Panic had seized you for a moment and you’d turned, fumbling in blind panic, and sprinted from the basement.

In hindsight, bolting down a damp stone hallway in pitch blackness wasn’t the smartest move you could have made. Really, it was lucky you didn’t slip and break a leg, or worse. After you got through your bolt of panic, you’d calmed enough to slow down and, a few seconds later, you’d come across the stairs. They’d led up out of a trapdoor and into a part of the castle you’d recognized.

It was relieving that you had found your way back, but the experience had rattled you. At the dinner you and some of your coworkers shared, you told them your problem.

“Dude,” said Monica, who was focused in furniture restoration, “that’s fucked up.”

“I know.” You slumped back, picking listlessly at your food. “I have no idea why it’s happening.”

Bennet, who was reorganizing the castle library, shrugged. “I heard that sometimes you can sleepwalk if you’re in an unusual location and really stressed. Are you really stressed?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t feel that stressed out.”

“It’s a big responsibility,” Cory said. You’d worked with him a couple times, restoring some of the old clothing in the castle. “Maybe you’re more stressed than you realize?”

“How can I be that stressed without realizing it?” you asked. “Look, I don’t know why it’s happening, I just want it to stop.”

“There’s a doctor in town,” Bennet said helpfully. “I got the number of the office when we got here. I don’t know how soon you can get an appointment, but it’s something.”

“Thanks,” you said. “Send me the number.”

“And,” Monica added, “we can keep an eye out for you, if you want. If we see you wandering around, we’ll wake you up.”

Admittedly, you didn’t have a lot of hope in that solution. Everyone was usually asleep when you were wandering around. But you smiled at her anyway. “Thanks. That’d be nice.”

“Could you move something in front of your door?” Cory suggested. “A big piece of furniture? Maybe if it’s hard to get out of your room, you’ll at least stay put.”

You shrugged. “I can try, I guess.”

There was a wardrobe in your room that you managed to pull in front of the door before bed. It was difficult enough to move that you figured you’d wake up before you managed to actually get out of the room. It was only a temporary solution, but given that the doctor’s office couldn’t even see you until next week, you didn’t have much of a choice.

You felt more secure as you got into bed, but there was still a nervous twist in your stomach as you got into bed.

Dimly, you were aware that you were moving. It felt like you were floating under the surface of a black lake, bobbing peacefully. Distantly, you could hear wordless song. It was mournful, but beautiful and utterly heart-wrenching. You moved toward it, the haunting sound of it tugging at your chest.

A voice whispered in the back of your mind. Shhh, it murmured. Come to me. It’s all right. Shhh.

The voice was soft and soothing, but you could feel that something was wrong. You weren’t supposed to be here. Where were you? Relax, the voice murmured. Just relax. It’s all right.

No, this wasn’t right. This wasn’t right! Panic surged through you and you blinked your eyes open, jerking out of your stupor. The voice started to speak, but as you woke, it grew faint and garbled before vanishing entirely.

You were in the basement again. The walls were still damp and stone, with a slightly fuzzy substance on them you really hoped was moss. You could hear water flowing from somewhere nearby. Behind you was completely dark, but in front of you, there was a faint bluish glow.

You had no idea where you were, but you were reluctant to head back into the gloom behind you. Hesitantly, you started forward into the faint glow.

The noise of running water got louder as you headed toward the light. The hall ended, stretching out into a long, perpendicular tunnel. A river ran through it, with only a thin bit of solid ground on either side. The walls were covered with some kind of glowing lichen. It would have been beautiful, if you had known where you were.

There was a loud splash from nearby. Your head snapped toward the sound, but all you saw was something slender and dark slipping under the surface. Worry tightened around your stomach and you started backing toward the hall.

One of your feet landed in a puddle of water and you felt your balance shift. You whirled your arms frantically, but you overbalanced and slammed down on the ground, hard. Nothing was broken, but something was definitely bruised and the wind had been knocked out of you. Groaning, you pushed yourself up.

Something was watching you from the water. You could see the upper half of its head poking up above the surface, dark eyes focused on you. It moved toward the edge of the water, shape growing clearer as it approached.

You were pretty sure you were still asleep. You didn’t feel asleep. You felt achy and cold and terrified. But there was no way you could be awake. Because the thing that was watching you from the water was a merman.

He had dark skin, but a sort of bluish-black rather than the brownish black of human skin. His tail swished through the water behind him, sleek and black. A long fin ran down the top of his tail, spreading into the long, surprisingly delicate-looking fin at the end of his tail. One of his hands slipped out of the water and you saw that it had short, sharp claws and webbing spread between each finger. His hair was long and, at closer inspection, probably not actual hair. It looked like the long, thin tentacles of a jellyfish, and you could see them twitching slightly in the water.

A thrill somewhere between excitement and terror passed through your stomach. You could feel your breath coming in shallow, quiet gasps. The merman looked at you for a moment, apparently sizing you up, then hummed a few notes.

The noise was ringing and bell-like, resonating in the hollow of your chest. “You were the person I heard singing,” you said, almost whispering. “You drew me here, didn’t you? It was your voice I heard in my head.”

The merman smiled. His teeth were all needle-sharp. Your breath caught in your chest. In a single, smooth motion, he placed both his hands on the edge of the stone side and heaved himself up out of the water.

You barely had time to register what you were doing before you were on your feet and fleeing down the hall.

You weren’t entirely sure how you managed to get out of the basement. It was a blur of skidding around turns and running down twisting halls. Eventually, you found a doorway and bolted up it into the castle.

When you got back to your room, you saw the wardrobe shoved haphazardly off to the side. Apparently, moving it aside had failed to wake you after all. Or perhaps you’d been awake the whole time and just been under some sort of spell. Either way, it didn’t seem like there was anything you could do to stop yourself from leaving your room.

You spent the rest of the day trying to think of a new plan. Just leaving was, technically, a solution, but it was one that made you sort of nervous. If you ditched this project, your employers would almost certainly trash you to others in the community, and embroidery restoration was niche enough that if you failed this job, you would probably never work again in the field.

Admittedly, weighing that against the possibility of dying and being eaten shouldn’t have been much of a contest, but you’d spent practically your entire life trying to get a job in a field you were passionate about. The fact that you were going to have to run from it because of some weird creature skulking in the basement of the castle was frustrating. You attempted to pack your bags several times, only for sour disappointment to stop you.

By the time evening rolled around, you had a different plan.

This thing was trying to draw you in for some reason. You were going to make it regret that.

The kitchen had a whole bunch of knives, because you were expected to make your own food. You took one of the smaller ones, wrapped it in some cloth that you stitched together in a sort of makeshift sheath, and returned to your room.

You’d always woken up around the same time at night. Tucking the sheath around your waist with another piece of cloth, you grabbed your phone and set an alarm for about 3 A.M. You weren’t sure if it was going to entirely wake you up, but it was something. Maybe it would at least be loud enough to shock you out of it.

Even with all that, you didn’t feel comfortable sleeping. You sat on your bed, legs tucked underneath you, staring out the window. The moon rose, nearly full, over the trees in the distance. The moments ticked slowly by. Drowsiness lapped at you, threatening to pull you under. Your blinks grew longer. Your thoughts slowed. You were so tired. You could feel your body falling asleep around you, drifting between sleep and wakefulness.

There was music coming from somewhere. Beautiful, wordless singing that rang like a bell. It was full of longing and desperation and a deep, endless sorrow. It drew you inexorably. You were moving before you even realized what was happening.

A distant part of your mind recognized that this, regardless of the knife, was a bad idea. But you couldn’t stop. The music pulled you in and dulled your conscious mind until all that was left was the desire to go toward that beautiful song.

Down the halls, through a partially-hidden passage, and into the basement. Your mind came and went like waves on a shore. A few times, you nearly woke up entirely, but then a swell of notes would push your thoughts back into sleep.

The deeper you got into the basement, the harder you fought against it. One of your hands slipped to the knife at your waist. Even with your hand on the knife, you were nervous. The song slowed your movements significantly. There was a solid chance you wouldn’t be able to actually use the knife before he got to you.

The sound of water grew louder and you stepped into the glowing blue hall. In the middle of the water. His mouth was open and from it issued the song that was ringing in your head. It was almost a physical presence this close, a weight you could feel wrapping around you.

A voice whispered in the back of your mind. Welcome back. Come to me. Join me.

You felt yourself kneel next to the water, bending over the edge. He swam up to you, pulling himself out of the water. One of his hands came up and cradled your cheek and chin. His skin was cool and smooth and his claws pricked against your skin like needles. The way he was holding your head made you feel like he was seconds from kissing you.

The song was still there, but it was fainter. Your will was seeping back into your limbs. Your fingers tightened on the knife and, in one swift motion, you pulled it out and pressed the tip of it to his throat.

He froze. The song stopped entirely and your head cleared. The knife pressed a little more firmly against his neck. “Let me go.”

He made an odd clicking noise in the back of his throat. I think I could say the same to you, no?

You’d heard the voice before, but this was the first time you really registered it as coming from him. It was almost as musical as his song, though it echoed exclusively in your head, not in your ears.

“If you don’t let go of me,” you said in a tense voice, “I will cut your throat right now.”

The hand against your face slipped away. You sat back. He eased his head back from your knife, then turned and plunged sinuously into the water.

He swam a short distance away, then poked his head up again to watch you. When he saw that you hadn’t left, he emerged further, watching you with clear interest. You stared back at him. There was a part of you that wanted to run, to get away from this obviously dangerous creature. But a larger part of you felt you had the upper hand, at least temporarily, and you wanted to end this. “You keep calling me here. Why?”

He plunged under the water, tail rippling after him. For a moment, you thought he had simply left, then his head broke the surface. There have not been people living in my castle for many years.

“Your castle?” you repeated, unable to keep incredulity out of your voice.

He moved closer with a powerful stroke of his tail. My castle. It is my home. My territory. He rolled onto his back, revealing a slim, muscular torso.

“Are you drawing us down here to get rid of us?” you asked. Your hand tightened on your knife handle. The merman looked at you, then plunged under the surface. If you focused you eyes very carefully, you could just barely see him swimming, long, powerful tail flexing and twisting like an eel’s.

Abruptly, he sprang from the water in front of you. With his hands splayed on the stone, heaving his upper body above the waves, he was taller than your kneeling form. You could see the individual filaments of his hair. The sharp, oddly pretty structure of his bones. The intelligent gleam in his dark eyes.

You are an interesting human. Such desires… Are you unique in your kind?

“What are you talking about?”

The merman slouched back into the water, still watching you carefully. I am a siren, my dear. We can sense your deepest desires and dreams.

“You’re psychic?” you asked, with cautious skepticism. The siren made a clicking noise again. You were pretty sure it was him laughing.

To an extent. I can sense your desires. They guide my song, help draw you in. He eyeballed you from the water, expression inscrutable. You are of interest to me.

“In what way?” you asked. The siren lifted his head close to yours. You hesitated. You weren’t sure how fast he could move and if he could get his teeth into your throat before you could swing the blade. Slowly, you pulled the blade forward. If he was going to try and take you out, he would come with you.

He didn’t seem to notice. I have seen many humans in my time here, though few stay for long. Human desires are often similar to one another. Accomplishment. Affection. Admiration. Simple things at their base. But yours… He squinted at you, tail swishing back and forth. You differ.

You sort of wished that was more surprising to you. But you were aware that you were somewhat different from other people. You were a loner. You preferred being in nature, separate from people. Sometimes, you felt something pulse through your veins, something wild, and you wanted more than anything to slip into the trees and shed your skin and be one with the world around you.

The siren’s eyelids fluttered and he tilted his head back. Yes. That desire. It’s unusual. It… intrigues me.

“And that’s why you called me down here?” you asked. The siren pulled himself closer to the shore, folding his elbows over the stone lip.

I saw your dreams for days. And I found them… attractive. Shimmering, pearly lights glowed along his side for a moment in a striking display. I have been here for a long time. But I have not had a companion. I have been wishing for another to hunt with. To be with. His hand moved out of the water and caught your face, holding it. The tips of his claws scratched lightly along your cheek, sending a pleasant tingling through your body. Your breath caught. I can sense your desire even now. I can sense your longing.

You sucked in a short breath. His face was so close to yours. He was handsome, oddly enough. And the sensual sound of his voice in your head was attractive. “How do I know you’re not going to draw me into the water and kill me?”

One of his hands struck out, seizing your wrist. The knife twisted from your grip. His body surged out of the water, other hand seizing your shoulder. His weight against you made it hard to move. But more than that, you were aware of his mouth at your throat.

His lips brushed your skin. You froze. For a moment, his lips worked at your throat, like he was nibbling without teeth. You felt yourself tremble.

If I wanted to kill you, I would have. You could not stop me. I could rip your throat out, pull you under and drown you. He pulled back. But I have no desire to do so. I wish for a companion. And in you, I sense a kindred spirit. One who belongs to the fierceness of the waves and the hunt. This is what you desire, is it not? A release from the restrictive human life? You need not worry about the minutia humans fret over. You can be free.

Desire welled inside you. You pressed your lips together, trying to keep your good sense in charge. “I can’t just… I can’t just decide that. I need time to think.”

Of course. Think on it. I will sing again tomorrow night. Come to me with your decision. With that, he turned and vanished into the water.

You seized the knife and stood. There was already no sign of him. With apprehension and desire fighting in the hollow of your chest, you turned and left the water.

Luckily, you remembered the way out. You climbed out of the basement and sat against the wall. Your legs were trembling. Already, what you had just experienced seemed unreal. But it had been real. You were sure of it.

“Hey, are you okay?” You looked up. Monica was peering down at you, concern written over her face. “Were you sleepwalking?”

“Yes,” you said. “Pretty much.” Monica offered you a hand and you took it, letting her haul you to your feet. You leaned on her a little bit as you headed back up to your room.

Monica walked with you all the way back to your room. “Are you sure you’re doing okay?” she asked you, looking cautiously into your face. You nodded. “You’ve got a doctor’s appointment about this, right? It’s probably not good to be wandering around the castle all the time. It’s not the safest place ever.”

You glanced up at her. “Can I ask you something that’s maybe a little weird?”

She nodded, sitting on your bed next to you. “What’s up?”

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s… okay, I know there’s not a lot of details here, but if you suddenly got this opportunity to do something you’ve always kind of wanted to do, but it was something you didn’t really have any experience with and it also means you have to leave everything you know behind, what would you do?”

Monica blinked at you. “Woah. That’s a lot. Did you get a new job offer or something?”

“Uh,” you said. “Yeah, I guess it’s something like that.”

Monica sat down on the bed next to you. “I mean, we don’t know each other that well, so I don’t think I can totally tell you what to do here. But I mean, maybe you should think about what you really want. If this is something that you really want, even if it means you’re giving up a lot, maybe that means something. If you think it’s really worth going, even if you’re losing a lot, I think you should at least go for it.”

“Even if it means leaving everything behind? And knowing you might never get any of it back?” you said cautiously.

Monica thought for a moment, tilting her head back. “Hm. That’s a really big decision. You can’t try it out for a little bit, see how it goes?” You shook your head. “Well… Like I said, I can’t tell you what to do. But I kind of think that maybe… if it’s something you really want, something you think you might never have another shot at, you should go for it. I mean, I think it’s better to regret a shot you did take than a shot you didn’t, right? You’ll never spend your life wondering what could have happened if you didn’t take it.”

You nodded. “Thank you.” She smiled and stood up, sensing that the conversation was over.

“No problem. I’ll see you later.”

You stayed in your room most of the day, fussing with your belonging. There wasn’t much in the way of things you could actually bring underwater, but you weren’t overly attached to most of it anyway. You hadn’t spoken to your living family in years, and the few objects you owned from them weren’t things you were all that inclined to keep.

The only thing left to do was to wait for night.

It was approaching midnight when you heard the singing echo through the castle again. There was no need to fight it this time. You let the music overwhelm your mind and followed it down into the basement.

The siren was there, waiting for you when you stepped into the glowing hall. He dipped his head slightly at you, eyes gleaming. I wasn’t sure you were going to show up. But I am glad you did.

You knelt next to the water. “You were right. I want to be… something else. I don’t think I belong in this world.”

No. You were built like me. For the swiftness and precision of the hunt. For the simple pleasure of moving with the current. For a life without the overcomplicated structure of humanity. He bobbed closer to you, stretching a hand up out of the water. You reached down to take it. His scaled skin was cool against yours. He tugged at your arm, gently but insistently pulling you toward the water.

“Hold on.” You stripped down to your underwear and carefully slipped into the water. It was a cold shock and you shuddered. The siren swam around you. His tail fins brushed against your bare legs and you felt his hand trail down your back.

Relax. His voice was soothing, echoing through every corner of your brain. Shh. Go under and I will help you.

He pulled at you abruptly and you sank under the water. It was too dark too see. You could only feel him swimming around you. His mouth pressed abruptly to your neck and you felt a thrill of fear. For a moment, you were sure he had lied, that he was going to tear out your throat and kill you.

His teeth, needle-sharp, sank into your neck. Something cold flowed from him into your veins. Your head spun. His voice echoed through your mind, musical as his song. Shh. Don’t fight. Sleep now.

There was no fighting it. You sank into oblivion.

You grew slowly aware of the world around you. Your eyes flickered, trying to open. Shh. No need to struggle. Let it happen.

You tried to move your legs, but they felt wrong. They were long, oddly long, and wouldn’t move separately. As you grew more aware of your body, you realized they weren’t legs anymore. It was a tail. A long, powerful tail.

You looked down at yourself. Not only could you see, but you could see fairly well in the dark water. Your entire body felt like powerful, corded muscle. Your mouth was full of teeth and you were super aware of the way the water shifted around you.

Awake, so soon? You are tough, aren’t you? You shifted to look at the siren and stopped. Beautiful iridescent lines and stripes ran along his body. It was beautiful. You couldn’t stop staring. The siren gave a clicking laugh. Like what you see?

I didn’t notice that when I was human, you said. Speaking was almost instinctive, as easy as pushing the words toward him.

No, I don’t think humans can see very well. He reached out, resting his hand on your hips. Were they still considered hips if you had a tail? You are striking yourself. He lowered his head, pressing your foreheads together. I was about to show you how to hunt. But perhaps that can wait for a bit.

We have time, you agreed. You wondered if he could feel what desires you had now. The motion of his mouth against your neck suggested that he could.

[magical-girl-coral]

 Birthday Surprises

Nanao Ise has found a new low for herself. It was eight in the morning, the sun was barely rising, and she was already on her fourth cup of Sake. And from how she was feeling, she wasn’t going to stop any time soon.

It all started when she and her friends decided to do something nice for Rangiku. For the last few months, she had been oddly active, taking fewer naps at the office, doing her paperwork, drinking less in the afternoon, and actually showing up to lieutenants' meetings on time. So as a small reward, all her female coworkers thought of giving her a small birthday surprise, showing up at her door with booze and persimmon sweets for a good morning gift. Since almost everyone takes a day off on their birthday, they wouldn't have to worry about her being somewhere else. Nanao took the lead since it was her idea and opened the bedroom to wake Rangiku up.

And there were no words that could describe her shock when she saw her best friend with a bedmate. Nanao was just thankful her instincts shut the door before anyone else could peek in.

Now she, along with the rest of the Shinigami Women's Association, drank in one of their many secret hiding spots (thanks to president Yachiru) as they took in the new information. 

Rukia looked at Nanao worriedly. "Ise-san, don't you think you should slow down a bit?"

Kiyone grimaced. "I don't think she's drinking enough. I would have drunk myself under the table by now if I were in her place. Just thinking about finding Isane like that gives me chills."

"I still can't get over how she had a secret boyfriend and didn't tell us," Momo said before Nanao could correct Kiyone's assumption for her "sisterly" feelings towards Rangiku, “She almost never keeps secrets like this. Sometimes she tells us too much!”

Soi Fon poured Nanao and herself another cup. "And are you sure you didn't see his face?"

Nanao dropped her face on the table. "No," she mumbled out, "I could only see the back of his head." Although the silver hair, the scar across the chest, and the fucking missing right arm were enough to tell who he was.

Oh, gods, she was starting to curse now mentally. She should stop before the words begin to come out.

Isane smiled awkwardly at the scene. "Well, at least now we know why she's been in such a good mood lately. Remember when she turned down lunch break drinking with captain Kyoraku, and we all thought she was dying?"

Retsu smiled at that. "I remember that. You tied her up and sent her to me directly to get an emergency check. Even I was too scared of the possibilities to turn down the request. Rangiku was fairly upset with all of us."

"....I've just realized something," Nemu said suddenly, "it's impossible for her mystery bedfellow to be one of the seated officers, lieutenants, or captains."

Nanao raised her head from the table. "What do you mean?"

"Rangiku has a lieutenant-level spiritual power that has only grown stronger since she has taken her Shikai training more seriously," Nemu explained, "only people around her levels can be detected while standing in her presence. Since Rangiku's spiritual mass would cloak anyone weaker, none of us could sense his presence, which means whoever she is with has to be weaker than her."

Nanao's eyebrows went up to her hairline. His restrictions. They must have hidden his spiritual powers. Nanao thanked the gods and swallowed the irony of Nemu's last sentence.

"Now that is a big relief," Soin Fon said, "Can you imagine how awkward it would be if she dated someone we all knew?"

"Oh, yeah, I haven't thought about that," Momo said to herself, "With how intermingled everyone already is, adding a romantic relationship to the mix would be more than messy, especially since most of us are still getting used to how everything's changed."

Nanao's heart fell to her stomach as everyone agreed.

"I feel a bit proud now, even more so than I have before," Retsu said as she put a hand over her heart, and it was at that moment that Nanao had forsaken the cup and went straight to the bottle.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * 

Three hours and two bottles later, Nanao found herself in front of Rangiku's apartment. While she did declare she was ready to go home to take a last-minute day off, she found herself in front of Rangiku's door instead. This is why one shouldn't drink and Shunpo.

After knocking on her door on a lost rhyme, Rangiku opened her door with a surprised expression. "Nanao-chan, What are you doing here? And why do you smell like your captain?"

Nanao swayed as she answered with her own question. "Can he extend his penis like his sword?"

Rangiku openly gaped at her. "What?"

"You know, he says shoot to kill, and it gets longer." Nanao wished she could shut her mouth, but the words kept flowing out. "Or do his restrictions stop that from happening? No, wait, does his hollowfication do something during sex? Like, can it transform his di-"

Rangiku slapped her palm over Nanao's mouth, to which Nanao was grateful. "Okay, since you're obviously hammered and won't listen to common sense, how about I'll pour you a glass of water, some tea, and we'll continue this conversation inside where my neighbors can't hear you."

Nanao nodded her head in agreement, and Rangiku released her mouth. She quickly pulled them both inside and sat Nanao down before going to the kitchen to prepare the aforementioned tea.

Rangiku sat a teacup in front of Nanao and took a deep breath. "So, why have you been drinking with Nemu at eleven in the morning?"

Nanao shrunk in her seat. It didn’t feel great to be on the other side of the table. “Because I found you and captain Ichimaru in bed together. We wanted to surprise you because it’s your birthday and I panicked, but no one else has seen his face!” She added the last part quickly after noticing her ever-paling face. "Wait, how did you know I drank with Nemu?"

"I learned the hard way not to get her too drunk, or I start asking the same things from her influence." Rangiku chuckled softly to herself. "Your next question?"

"How long have you two been together?"

Rangiku put her finger on her chin in thought. "We got togther around the last winter festival, so about nine months."

Now it was Nanao's turn to gape. "Nine months?! You've been in a secret relationship for nine months, and you didn't tell me?! I thought you trusted me in these kinds of things! What changed?"

"No, no, I still do, I swear!" Rangiku assured as she rose her hands in defense. "I wanted to tell you, I really did. It was just... well..." Rangiku sighed deeply and sat back in her chair. "Do you remember when Gin first came back, people broke into the third's barracks and graffitied their offices?"

"Yes, I remember. It was painful watching Kira go through that-" Nanao's eyes widened in realization. "Oh."

"Yeah," Rangiku said as she rubbed her neck, "It took forever for things to settle down. Just yesterday, Gin mentioned how relieved he was that no one harassed his men in six months. So when we first got together, he wanted to keep it a secret so-"

"So that none of those poor excuses of breathing beings would start troubling you," Nanao finished the sentence for her.

Rangiku let out a small laugh. "You know, Gin called them something similar, except a lot more vulgar."

"Trust me, the only reason I haven't said anything worse is because your tea is magic, and it's sobering me up quickly." Nanao took another sip and rubbed her forehead. A hangover is coming already; she could feel it.

Rangiku's eyes shone brightly. "I know, right? It took me forever to come up with this special blend. It cures me right away! And don't forget to drink your water; the tea itself isn't enough. You also need some actual hydration."

Nanao drank the water, and her headache went away. She honestly wanted to get this straight to the Twelve Division to be analyzed, but her phone buzzed before she could joke about that. "It looks like president Kusajishi wants us to have an emergency meeting at Kuchiki manor."

"Awww," Rangiku complained loudly, "but it's my day off."

"We might as well get there just to get it over with." Nanao stood up and went to pull on Rangiku's arm. "It's probably about her spending all of our fundings on another failed pool."

Rangiku let out one last grumble as she was pulled to her feet. Unfortunately, they had to walk there, with Nanao still slightly drunk and Rangiku being sleepy from her constant napping. By the time they got there, it was one in the afternoon. Though, they would have arrived sooner if it wasn’t for an unplanned coffee stop.

Nanao and Rangiku both sensed more people than there should be. Thinking it was a trap or a cruel prank, they drew out their swords just in case. What they didn't expect was confetti, most of the high-ranked Shinigami, and a large banner in the middle of the room that said "Happy Birthday, Rangiku!".

All the attendants in the room wished Rangiku happy birthday in one giant shout as captain Ichimaru blew a party horn. Nanao turned her head towards Rangiku with an open mouth. "I did not know this was planned."

"Trust me, I believe you," Rangiku said before letting out a big laugh and walking up to hug her friends. "How were you able to pull this off at the last minute? And with Byakuya's approval to use one of his party rooms?"

"I used the "you tried to kill me for an entire week" card, and he gave it to us without issues," Rukia explained with a shrug, but Nanao knew what this meant. She only used this card during very dire situations, and coming up with a last-minute birthday surprise fit that criteria. And Rangiku seemed to notice this too with how she was trying to suffocate Rukia in a boob bear hug.

Gin stood next to the Rangiku. "Is this surprise party a hit?"

Rangiku nodded her head tearfully.

"Cool, I'm gonna go lurk in the shadows now. See ya."

Gin gave one last peace before disappearing into thin air. Rangiku released Rukia with an angry "don't you dare" and ran after him, only to come back empty-handed with a huff. However, her frown soon changed to a giddy smile when people started to hand her alcohol.

Nanao felt herself relax when the music began to play. People were talking, some were laughing, others were eating, and there was a large stack of gifts in one of the corners of the room. Maybe this day can end on a sober high note after all-.

Her phone buzzed. 

Unknown number : If you wanted to know how long I was, you could've just ask ;)

Nanao threw her phone at the wall and went straight to the punch bowl.

[a-singleboat]

Green-Eyed Valentine

Word Count: 1.7k

Request: Hey! I really liked what you did with my last request, so I was wondering if you could do one where Damien (or Shayne) get jealous because reader gets a valentine's day gift from someone else, please? - @lula132

A/N: We’re getting into all those Shayne requests!

Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, mentions of cheating, swearing

Valentine’s Day. Objectively the worst holiday in your eyes. On top of still having to go to work, it’s only really socially acceptable to give another person a box of chocolates as a gift. Where was the variety? The flavor? 

Additionally, you and your long-term boyfriend, Shayne, had decided to forego gifts that year in favor of saving up for a house together. That meant birthdays, Christmas, and yes, Valentine’s Day gifts, were off the table because you both spend an outrageous amount of money on each other each year. So imagine your surprise upon seeing a gift neatly wrapped in the same red gift wrap the two of you had in your apartment sitting on your desk early Valentine’s Day morning. 

“I thought we agreed on no gifts, Shayne.” You picked up the wrapped item, turning it over in search of a tag. When you found there was none, it only made you more suspicious of your boyfriend. 

“That wasn’t me,” he said, eyebrows furrowed as he watched you fiddle with a loose piece of wrapping paper on the side. While he recognized the wrapping paper, he was one-hundred percent sure that he hadn’t bought you anything. You could check his bank statement if you didn’t believe him. 

“Yeah, I’m sure thousands of people have that exact same wrapping paper,” Courtney chimed in. You had no idea where she had come from but judging by the still-steaming coffee in her hands, you were willing to bet from the office kitchen. “I’m pretty sure Ian has that wrapping paper, too.” 

You blinked, unsure on how to process that information. “So you think Ian got me a Valentine’s Day gift?” 

“Why would Ian--?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Courtney cut Shayne off with a laugh, settling her coffee on your desk. She took the gift from your hands, smoothing back the bit of wrapping paper you had been playing with. “I’m just making a point. This could have been literally anyone in the office.”

You gave her a smirk. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Uh, a who-dunnit in which we figure out who put this present there?”

Shayne looked a little more than peeved at that. “And when you find out who left the gift there, you can tell them that you’re in a loving relationship and have been for the past eight years.” 

You pinched his cheeks, making kissy faces at your boyfriend. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to tell them that my incredibly handsome, loving, and amazing boyfriend didn’t appreciate their gift, bubba.”

Shayne’s cheeks reddened at the nickname, eyes rolling as you leaned in to pepper his face in butterfly kisses. He could be as jealous or as grumpy as he wanted but as long as he knew you were his, all was well. You trusted him and you were sure as hell that he trusted you as well. 

“Go find out who sent you the gift.” He moved his face out of range of your constant kisses, taking one of your hands in his and pressing a soft kiss of his own to your knuckles to let you know he wasn’t mad. “And don’t call me bubba at work, that’s reserved for home and home only.” 

With a laugh, you agreed. The nickname ‘bubba’ would stay home from thereon out. You turned to Courtney, who had taken to shaking the box in an attempt to figure out what was inside. The item rattled slightly, most likely having been swaddled tightly by tissue paper within the cardboard casing. 

“It sounds like pottery,” Courtney deduced, giving it another firm shake. The rattling, similar to the sound of a metal spoon hitting the side of a ceramic bowl, made you wary of the way your friend was manhandling the gift. 

“Maybe someone left it here on accident and it’s not actually for me,” you suggested. “After all, there’s no note or anything. I think even if it was from a secret admirer--which it’s not--” you gave Shayne a pointed look-- “I still think there’d be a note of some kind.” 

“But we still can’t strike one out,” Courtney pointed out, setting the box down. The shiny red paper sparkled under the shitty office lights, the glitter already wearing off on, well, everything. “Okay, maybe if we start by eliminating people in the office we’ll find who the gift came from faster.”

“Good idea,” you said, pulling out a spare sheet of paper from your desk. Your fingers sought out a pen, yanking the cap off with your teeth. Quickly, you scribbled down the names of all the coworkers you can into regular contact with“So we already know it’s not from Shayne or you--that’s two people down already. And despite the fact that Ian also has this same wrapping paper, I really don’t think he would have left this for you.” 

“Okay that’s three people down,” you crossed the names out, marking a heart next to Shayne’s name. You flipped the paper over, showing him the little heart you’d drawn. He frowned but caught the kiss you blew his way anyhow. 

“Here’s an idea,” Shayne said, rolling his chair closer to you. Courtney took a noisy sip of her iced coffee, looking between the two of you like a tennis match. “Maybe, someone accidentally left it on your desk. Like any second now, someone’s gonna come by looking for that thing.”

You glanced at the neatly wrapped box, a little battered from Courtney’s thorough examination. It was possible that it wasn’t supposed to be meant for you. It was half-on-half-off your desk originally, the original cart it had shared had been pushed away by now, moved to the other side of the room. 

You pulled the box toward you, running your finger along the middle and feeling for the sticky residue that would be a tell-tale sign of the tape that had once been there. Once you found it, you tapped the pad of your finger a few times watching as the paper clung to your skin before separating. 

“The label’s fallen off,” you voiced your observation, looking around the floor for it. “If we find that, we’ll find who this was addressed to and who sent this in the first place.”

Courtney immediately set her drink down, getting on her hands and knees in search of the label. You set the box back down on your desk and got on your hands and knees as well, tying your hair out of your line of sight. You pushed Shayne away, laughing as he rolled back a bit further than you thought he would. 

“Do you see it?” you asked, using your phone’s flashlight to look in the dark shadows under your desk. You squinted as the flashlight caught on something shiny, frowning when you saw that it was only a scrap piece of laminate. You picked it up anyways, disposing of it correctly and sitting back on your heels. 

Courtney’s arm was halfway under your desk on the other end, reaching for something. You watched as she extracted a thin piece of cardstock. She waved the paper around, blowing off the bit of dust clinging to the corner. 

“To, Jessica… who’s Jessica?” 

You crowded over her shoulder to read the label. “I have no clue who Jessica is, but if we know the sender we can get it back to them.”

She unfolded the paper a bit more. “From… Ian? Is Ian dating?”

“This is way more exciting than me having a secret admirer, oh my God!” You took the label from Courtney, taping the label back down onto the box. “We should really get this back to Ian though.” 

Courtney took the box from you, subtly glancing over your shoulder at your still-pouting boyfriend. He was trying to be sneaky, looking over at the two of you when he thought you weren’t looking. You rolled your eyes, laughing as you realized what was happening. 

“He’ll get over it,” you said. “He’s just a little embarrassed. I’ll talk to him.”

Courtney nodded, wishing you luck. 

You turned on your heel, looking at your ridiculous boyfriend and giving him a smile. You chuckled, sitting in your seat and sliding over to him and forcing his seat to spin so that you could slot your knees between his. You took his hands in yours, pressing soft kisses to his knuckles. Instantly, he relaxed, unclenching his fists and lowering his shoulders. 

“You know that you have nothing to be afraid of, right? I love you and only you,” you reassured him. “Ten years and counting, remember?” 

You pressed another kiss to his knuckles. This was nothing new, the extremely light PDA at work. Everyone had gotten used to the two of you by now, not caring as long as you weren’t fucking on the desks. 

“Yeah,” he said, distracted. His thumb traced over where your ring finger met your palm. It wasn’t difficult for you to guess what he was thinking about. You waited for him to say the words, which you would inevitably reject. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry him because you did. It was just that growing up around parents that fought all the time made you wary of the idea of marriage. At the beginning, your parents had been the most in-love people you’d ever known but as the years drug on, you watched as their “love” disappeared into booze for your mom and other women for your dad. 

But sitting here in the office setting, as mundane and most likely cliches as it sounded, you wouldn’t hate the idea of marrying him. He reminded you of everything your parents weren’t and he managed to remind you every day that the two of you were not your parents and never would be, though the fear lingered. 

“You’ve got work to do, lover boy,” you teased, pressing one last kiss to his knuckles. “And I have a video of your dorky ass to edit.” 

Shayne sighed so lightly that if the printer had been running copies you would have missed it. But he let you get back to work, this wasn’t the time or place for that kind of conversation. 

“I love you,” you reminded him. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“I love you, too.”

TAGLISTS

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Smosh

@andreasworlsboring101 

[dc41896]

Inside Jokes

Happy New Year guys🎊☺️!! I hope it’s filled with much happiness and positivity! So this was another idea I was gonna do for Christmas, but I already had other stuff and the holiday had then passed so I figured hey why not do it for New Years🤷🏽‍♀️? Hope you guys like it!

Pairing: Chris EvansxBlack Reader

⚠️: None, all fluffy feels☺️!

Sounding the bright charm of the doorbell, a smile spreads on your lips hearing the familiar excited barks from Dodger as he scurries to the front door.

“I know bubba, I’m coming. I heard it too,” you hear Chris’ muffled chuckles as his footsteps lightly thud against the hardwood the closer he came. He doesn’t have time to properly greet you before brown and white fur dashes past him circling around your legs before peering up at you with soft brown eyes as his front paws push on your abdomen making you laugh.

“Dodge let her come in the house first bud.”

“It’s okay. I know I haven’t visit you in a while, I promise I’ll do better,” you smile scratching behind his ears as he drops to all fours helping his dad guide you in the warm, faintly pine scented home. Pulling you into his chest, your arms wrap around each other in the most comforting hug you’ve received in a while. His lips against your temple after his low “hi sweetheart,” makes you giddy with stomach doing tiny flips before quickly trying to push those feelings away.

“Y/N!,” Scott shouts.

“Scott!” Pulling away, you meet him halfway for a hug as he spins you around causing an eruption of giggles.

“I didn’t know you were back in town, how are you? I haven’t seen you in...what? A year?!”

“And what are you doing bringing us gifts on your birthday?,” Chris adds taking the respective snowman and reindeer covered gift bags from your hand.

“That’s right, Happy birthday! Have anything special planned?”

“No, I’m just gonna stay in and watch a few movies until I probably fall asleep. And the gifts are late Christmas presents since I couldn’t get them to you sooner.”

“Aww you didn’t have to do that, thank you so much,” Scott smiles hugging you again. “And you hear that Chris? She’s not doing anything tonight.” There’s a brief silence as the two brothers peer at each other as if telepathically speaking some secret language.

You weren’t quite sure what was going on, but from Chris’ pleading yet serious eyes and Scott fluttering his lashes with innocent smile on his face you thought maybe it might be your cue to leave.

“Well um I don’t want to take up too much of your time-,”

“You’re not!,” Chris interrupts, a bit too enthusiastic for his liking from his growing blush. “Um in fact if you want to stay and hang out here, that’s completely fine. We’re having a few friends over later for a last minute New Year’s Eve party, which you’re more than welcome to join.”

Your heart screamed yes, wanting you to kick off your shoes and get comfy on his sectional couch. However, your brain kept picturing you sitting off to yourself for the majority of the night with drink in hand as they laughed and mingled with their childhood friends.

“Thanks, but I uh think I’m gonna just head home.”

“You sure? I know this dud is gonna be there, but I promise it’ll be fun!,” Scott says, soon receiving an arm smack from his brother that makes it hard to hide your laugh.

“Yea, I’m sure. Maybe we can all meet up later sometime and do something?”

“Of course, and if you change your mind just give us a call or come over.”

Giving you a final hug and happy birthday, you squat down saying your goodbyes to Dodger who had yet to leave your side since you walked through the door. Being the gentleman he was, Chris insisted on walking you to your car even though you tried to tell him it wasn’t necessary since it was still light out and that you’d be fine.

“Thanks again for the gifts. That was really sweet.”

“You’re welcome. Sorry if it’s something you already have, I tried to think of things you guys might like.”

“Anything you get, we’ll appreciate,” he smiles. You could tell there was something more he wanted to say as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. And it was as if you could see with your own eyes the conflict in his brain trying to figure out how to say whatever he was attempting.

“Hey, you okay? You kinda seem in your head a bit.”

“Yea, yea I’m fine. Just uh, thinking about how you shouldn’t be alone on your birthday. Not trying to pressure you or anything, but seriously we don’t mind you staying.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” you wave him off dismissively giving him a sure smile. “And if I change my mind, I’ll let you know.”

“Alright, and call if you need anything at all okay?”

“Okay,” you giggle, feeling his arms bring you closer again in one of his famous hugs.

———

“Why didn’t you stay?! It would’ve been better than being alone. Plus you’ve said before how fun they are, so I’m sure you would’ve enjoyed yourself,” your mom states, clearly in the kitchen from the pots and silverware clanking in the back.

“I don’t know, I didn’t want to be the odd one out I guess. The one person majority of people didn’t know and end up by myself.”

“Well being the stranger shouldn’t stop you from going to a party that you’re invited to by your friend. And if those boys are really your friends, I’m sure they would’ve tried to include you in stuff and made sure you were comfortable.”

“Yea that’s true. I also wondered if it was a pity invite too, you know? Like being invited because it accidentally slipped?,” you admit fiddling with the string on your pajama shorts.

“No I don’t think so. Chris himself told you about it when he could’ve just kept quiet. I think you’re overthinking a bit honey.”

“You’re probably right about that too,” you sigh watching the scene currently playing on the screen in front of you.

“And I know you’re upset about not being able to come home like you planned, but don’t let that stop you from having a good time. Live your life, we’ll all still be here the next time you can come.” Although you had a tear rolling down your face, a soft laugh escapes your mouth surprised by her words hitting the nail on the head. Why you’d think your own mother wouldn’t be able to tell how you were feeling even over the phone miles away, you didn’t know.

Just as you set your mouth for your reply, a knock on your door slightly startles you diverting your attention to the door across the room.

“Hey, I’ll call you back. Someone’s at the door.”

“Okay, well be safe and remember what I said! Love you.”

“I will, and love you too.” Hanging up, you peek out the peephole to see Chris switching from one leg to the other as he looks down at his phone waiting for your answer.

“Chris, what are you doing here?”

Dark jeans and white sneakers below his forest green crewneck sweatshirt, a build a bear box comes into view from behind his back to rest on your kitchen counter.

“I too came to give you a present,” he smiles hands showcasing the box.

“T-Thank you. You didn’t need to go out and get me something, especially with everyone being out for New Years.”

“What makes you think I just bought this?,” he smirks.

“Because if you had it earlier, then you would’ve handed it over when I came by.”

“What if I held onto it so I could deliver it myself?”

Eyeing him suspiciously, a grin breaks your expression as your hands begin to roam the box beginning to open it. “Then I’d ask what about your party? The host really isn’t supposed to leave.”

“Well that’s why it’s good to have your brother as your other host so he can watch over everything. And the host can leave if it’s for an important reason.”

“Fair point, but still-,”

“Y/N, open your present please?,” he grins as you hold up your hands in surrender before finally pulling the stuffed brown teddy bear with jeans and a pullover hoodie from the box making you gasp as a soft “aww” leaves your lips. You read the card attached that says “a new friend to be independent together with” instantly causing a rush of memories and you to smile.

It was an inside joke between the two of you ever since your first week of meeting each other. You were his makeup artist while on set of his last project, and noticing that you seemed bored sitting outside the makeup trailer one day, invited you to get lunch with him.

Conversation came surprisingly easy as you walked side by side to a nearby cafe. Not that you expected him to be the snobby, stuck up type to look at everyone on set who wasn’t a fellow actor as less than and undeserving of his time. You’d heard before how nice he was ultimately being loved by those who had the chance to interact with him. As a fellow introvert though, you could tell from your first couple of talks how it took a while for him to warm up to someone.

And from your experience, typically with two introverts together, there could be a bit more silence than talking.

You can’t remember exactly what the both of you laughed about standing near the front of the line, but that was cut short when the older lady behind you complimented on how cute of a couple you were.

“Oh no, we’re not together,” he corrected with a light chuckle, before quickly feeling guilty that you might take offense. “I mean not that I’m not attracted or anything because you are pretty. Beautiful in fact. A-And not that I’ve thought about it or that’s why I invited you because I promise it didn’t cross my mind! Not that it would be a bad thought either! I just..um..”

At this point both you, the lady behind you, the waiting barista, and everyone within earshot of his rambling were watching making up from his neck to his ears tint red.

“...we’re just coworkers getting lunch,” you smile trying to ease any further embarrassment. Or confusion at this point.

“Yea together, but independently. Independently together,” he adds as she nods, a light laugh leaving her lips.

“Words weren’t really your strong suit today huh?,” you giggle making it back to the lot as he shakes his head silently laughing at himself.

“I-I was trying to correct her without potentially offending you.”

“Thank you for thinking about my feelings, but I was fine, you didn’t have to worry. Now if you were like utterly disgusted and started gagging or something-,”

“Noo, no I’d never do that. And if I did, I’d definitely understand if you punched me in the face repeatedly. Honestly probably encourage it.”

Both of your laughters dying down, it’s the first moment of silence you’ve experienced with him today. It’s doesn’t feel awkward at all though, and you may just be strolling along with the summer sun on your skin, but you don’t want to leave.

Little did you know he didn’t want to either.

“Um well I guess I’ll see you later then,” you shyly smile reaching the steps of the makeup trailer with Chris’ hand resting on the railing.

“See you later Y/N.”

“Oh, and be sure to get your words together when you’re in front of the camera. That’s kinda important.”

“I’ll try my best,” he deeply chuckles with hand over his chest. “If you don’t see me tomorrow though you know what happened.”

“Oh man, then who’d I get lunch independently together with?”

“You’re not gonna let me live that down are you?”

“Maybe. Eventually.”

His lips slightly part for his next remark, but the director calling his name steals his attention, yelling about changes to the script. Turning back to you, you both said a quick goodbye before he jogs off.

Not before thanking you for walking ‘independently together’ with him and flashing you his gorgeous smile.

“I know it’s kinda kiddish, but-,”

“No it’s perfect Chris. Thank you.” Arms wrapped around his middle, a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as his arms seem to naturally fit around your body. You can’t help but to feel those flips and tingles from earlier, this time though opting to bask a bit in the feeling versus ridding it away.

“You’re welcome.”

Soon you’re both startled from the sound of poppers and party horns coming through your walls from the surrounding apartments as voices shouted “Happy New Year!,” and cheered.

“I didn’t realize it was already midnight. You should uh probably head back to your party,” you speak pulling away to set down your new, smaller friend.

“Yea you’re right,” he states following behind as you unlock your front door seeing the hall littered with confetti and glitter. Nearly stepping over the threshold, he pauses before turning back around to meet your eyes, which were now scanning outside wondering why he stopped.

“What is it?”

“N-Nothing, I just...uh, t-there’s actually another reason why I came by.”

“Um...okay. What’s up?”

Inching closer and closer until you could smell the mint from his gum, his larger hand finds your cheek and thumb grazes along the bone briefly looking down at your lips before meeting your eyes again.

“I’m guessing this is the other reason?,” you whisper, nervously tucking part of your bottom lip between your teeth.

“It is. If there’s someone, or you say no that’s fine though. I-I jus-,”

Your lips on his muffle his next couple words as his other hand gently grabs your side pulling you as close as you both could be. His soft lips paired with their equally forceful yet careful movement leave your head dizzy, in the best way, and hands clasping onto his sweatshirt to steady your now wobbly legs. Separating to catch your breath, your swollen lips stay hovering anticipating a repeat.

“There’s no one, and I think I just gave you a definite yes.”

“Looks like no more independent together then,” you both chuckle before your lips resume their previous actions.

Taglist: @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @themyscxiras @lady-olive-oil @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @maxcullen @literaturefeen @damnitaa @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @jojolu @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @scoop93535 @secretmysteriousperson

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for (can be found on my masterlist), or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know 🤓!

[originlist]

myroom lines - seimei

summon: Hello, travelers from Chaldea. I hope you don’t mind my dropping by. My name is — actually, would it be more fitting for the story to say I’m ‘Ashiya Douman’? Haha, no, I jest. Abe no Seimei, pleased to be at your service.

bond 1: Mm? Run along now, your hands are plenty full with more than just chitchatting with any old passersby.

bond 2: If I had to choose, I would take court service over military direction at any chance. But, Chaldea is a special case. I don’t mind joining the military here.

bond 3: Here, come help me with my work. If you’re going to chat, perhaps we’ll see what spells you can learn. Is your penmanship any good?

bond 4: I really thought you would have gotten scared off by now. Ahaha. Really, I don’t exactly know what to do with you.

bond 5: It’s a little strange to be around so many people and have connections to them. I’m not used to it. Do you think I should change my image? Of all people, I don’t want you to find me unsettling.

bond 5 (after heian-kyo): Yes, perhaps I was a little rude having you run about in the Heian-kyo, but I’m sure you understand I was not the best suited for affairs of that nature, and I suppose I didn’t think things would get that out of hand…. Well, you did wonderfully, so let’s let bygones be bygones.

dialogue: Master, if I were you, I might want to avoid things in that direction. Simply speaking as an advisor.

dialogue: Today’s fortune for you is… hmm, haha, let’s not say that aloud! Never mind.

dialogue (murasaki): Murasaki! I truly am glad to see you here. Master can’t be led astray with talented Casters like yourself. Now, I’d like to see what’s new in the library….

dialogue (tamamo): There should be familiarity among foxes here, no? Ahaha. Eh? What did I say wrong? Don’t look like that!

dialogue (Koyanskaya, Kiara, Kama): …Master, there’s a limit to what bad luck my services can help you avoid. Some Servants just invite it, and it would be better to steer clear. I say this for your own safety, you know.

dialogue (shuten): Her form is so delicate, but her expressions are of something that misses the taste of human flesh. Ahah, how unbecoming of something in the shape of a young lady.

dialogue (raikou): Another talented general walks by. Chaldea certainly is well-supplied. I’d like to have madam Raikou on the lines more often.

dialogue (douman): ….. haha, never mind.

dialogue (kiichi hogen): Oh, you’ve invited Kiichi Hogen here as well. You have a good eye for commanders. They’re very talented in warfare and that sort of thing. Please feel free to rely on them.

dialogue (bei @bonmotx ): I’m glad the correct Ashiya Douman came here. Though they’ve gotten more nervous than before… I hope my student hasn’t caused you too much concern.

master and servant: Master and Servant? Hm, I’ve worked for plenty of lords before, it’s no different. Though I have always preferred thinking of it as ‘coworkers’, I will admit.

about the grail: Haha. Something like an all-powerful wish granter, if it’s too good to be true, then it probably is. You should be careful. As for wishes, I can grant all of my own, so why worry?

likes: I like things in neat and logical order. It’s easier to manage anything going on when you can organize it simply.

dislikes: Grudges held past death are honestly confusing to me. I’ve been told I’m insensitive and callous, but aren’t emotions far too fragile on some people? Messy, messy… please try to remain coolheaded and logical, Master.

event: Something’s going on! For your own sake, you should go check it out. Would you like me to tell your fortune to see if you’ll be lucky?

birthday: Happy birthday, Master. Here, I’ll give you a gift. It’s one of my shikigami, it’ll help you out a little here and there.

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Eighty-Three

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: fluff

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

You wake up to Harry’s crushing weight on you. You had no idea how you could have possible ended up like this since you thought you fell asleep on him. Your eyes slowly open, and you’re met with the headache you figured you’d have. You look around and see everyone else still fast asleep. Harry rolls over and you feel the air come back to your lungs. You were cozy and didn’t feel like getting up just yet so you decide to spoon Harry for a bit.

Eventually you all sit up and try to come back to life. Harry sits up and smiles at you.

“Happy birthday, angel.” He says into your ear and kisses your cheek.

Before you can say thank you, Rachel and Sarah dog pile on you and scream happy birthday. You giggle and playfully tell them to get off you.

“We’re gonna make pancakes for breakfast.” Rachel says.

“And mimosas. Need new alcohol to flush out the old.”

“Good idea.” You smile.

They go into the kitchen while the rest of you clean up the living room. You go upstairs just to brush your teeth and wash your face. You didn’t feel like getting dressed yet. Harry did the same. You both plop on the couch while you wait for breakfast to be made. He throws his arm around you and you snuggle in close.

“So, that was your ex at the bar last night?” Harry’s face goes pale.

“Surprised you remember.”

“I was fucked up, but I certainly wouldn’t forget threatening someone.”

“That was pretty cool.” Niall says.

“That was the girl you saw before me though?”

“You make it sound like I was with her and then with you right away. It was like three years ago.” He groans. “I have no idea why she got so mad either.”

Sarah comes over with a plate of pancakes, topped with plenty of butter and a little syrup, just how you like it.

“I’m so spoiled, thank you.”

“You’re the baby of the group, you deserve to be a little spoiled.”

She laughs and sits with Niall with their breakfast. Rachel and Mariah sit down as well. Rachel hands Harry the banana he requested for his own breakfast.

“Seems like it must have been a bad break up if she was so aggravated to be running into you.” Mariah says.

“There wasn’t much to break, honestly.”

“Harry.” You look at him. “You were with that girl for seven months, come on.”

“Wasn’t in love, didn’t see it goin’ in that direction, and she thought it was more than it was. Remember, I told you I ended it when she wanted a key to my place? Didn’t want it with her.” He shrugs and bites into his banana. “Clearly she found someone else, good for her.”

“She said you only liked being called by your name.”

“I did, at the time. Pet names would have just led her on more.” Everyone’s looking at him. “I…was not a very nice person back then, okay? Can we drop it?”

You place a hand on his knee and give him a little squeeze.

“I thought she was going to wet herself when you got in her face.” Rachel laughs. “I love when you get feisty.”

“She was disrespecting my man! What could I do?” You shrug and finish up your pancakes. “That was so yummy, thanks guys.”

“What time do we need to be at the ferry?” Harry asks Sarah.

“In like an hour and a half. It won’t take long to get there, but we should all probably get dressed.”

You all go upstairs to get dressed. Harry watches you take a pair of spandex shorts out, along with a pair of shorts to wear over them, ones you would wear to the gym. You pull out a sports bra, and a tank top you would also wear to the gym. You look up at him.

“We’re gonna be doing a lot of walking, might get sweaty.”

Harry nods, and picks out a pair of shorts a graphic t. You flip your hair over and put it up into a messy bun. Your phone goes off after you get dressed and your face lights up.

“Hello?” You put the phone on speaker so he can hear your Nannie sing happy birthday to you. Your eyes fill with happy tears. You take it off speaker once she’s done. “Thank you.” You giggle.

“How are you, baby?”

“I’m great!”

“What are you up to?”

“I’m at the Cape with all my friends, and Harry. We’re going to the Vineyard in a bit.”

“Oh how nice! Good weather?”

“Mhm, it’s been beautiful all weekend so far. We got lucky.”

“Oh, I’m so glad honey. Well, I’ll let you get back to it. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Thanks Nannie, I love you.”

“I love you too, precious.”

You hang up and smile.

“That was really cute.” Harry says.

“She’s done it forever.” He kisses you on to top of your head and you both head downstairs.

You all pile into Sarah’s car, and Niall drives to the ferry. You get on and take pictures with your friends. You all find places to sit, and Harry puts his arm around you. When you get off you walk around for a while. There was a neighborhood with all of these brightly colored homes, and later you come to the house with all of the Betty Boop stuff out front. You and your friends all pose like her and Harry takes your pictures. Him and Niall pose too, causing you all to laugh.

None of you wanted to eat too heavily since you’d be going out to eat later, but you had to stop into the ice cream shop that seemed to have a million flavors. Plus, sitting for a bit didn’t sound like a bad idea. You get cookies and cream in a dish with some whip cream. Harry gets a strawberry cone. You all sit down outside the ice cream shop.

“How about a walk on the beach after?” Mariah asks.

“Great idea.” Niall says. “Work off this heavy ice cream.”

It was super hot out, and all the ice cream was melting quickly. That’s why you opted out of getting a cone. You look over to see Harry trying to lick at his ice cream so it doesn’t make a mess, but a little drips onto his hand. You giggle and lean down to lick it off him. He raises both his eyebrows.

“Should have grabbed more napkins.” You say with a smile. “Thought I’d improvise.”

“Like where your head’s at.” He chuckles.

All of your friends had seen you and Harry interact plenty of times, but never for this long of a stretch. This was almost a trial weekend for Sarah and Rachel. Rachel had told Sarah about the deeper conversation her and Harry had when painting. Sarah knew Harry wanted to marry you. Your friends were very over protective, and this was a great way to just really make sure he was right for you.

Your phone blows up with texts from friends and family wishing you a happy birthday. Sarah and Rachel had posted cute things on Instagram earlier in the day. Even Harry made a post, using some pictures you didn’t even know he had. It made you tear up when you first looked at it.

When you’re all done with your ice cream, you all make your way to the beach. You all carry your shoes so you can walk along the water.

“Sarah, what time do we have to check out tomorrow? Will we be able to go to the beach in the morning?” You ask.

“Yeah! We don’t have to be out until like 1PM, so plenty of time.”

“Perfect! I’d like to get a little more sun in before we have to leave.”

“Agreed.”

You all agree it’s been a great day, but you’re exhausted and wouldn’t mind just chilling out before going out to dinner later, so you make your way back to the ferry. Harry stands off to the side with you as you make your way back to the main land. You have an arm around his waist and he has one around your shoulders.

“Quick get a picture of them.” Rachel says.

Niall takes his phone out and snaps a couple of pictures of you two looking off. Harry tilts your chin up to look at him and he puckers his lips. You smile up at him and kiss him. Niall gets a shot of that too. You all hang out in the living room for a bit, just watching some TV. You were sitting up against the arm rest of the couch with Harry laying at your side, his head in the crook of your neck. Your baby was tired. You stroke your hand through his hair as you hear his soft snores. Sarah takes your picture with him and you giggle quietly.

“So, we’re gonna go to that seafood place you really like, and then we’ll come back here to do cake and gifts and stuff.” Sarah explains to you as she flips through a magazine.

“Sounds good, I hope you guys didn’t go too crazy with gifts, this has been gift enough.”

“No, just some small things like we usually do.” She smiles and looks at Harry. “How can he sleep like that? Niall and I have to sleep butt to butt to be comfortable.” She laughs.

“Hey, you make it sound like we don’t cuddle at all.” He says with a frown, putting a hand on her thigh.

“No! We cuddle all the time, but we never sleep like that.” She points at Harry who is absolutely passed out.

“He’s always been like this.” You look down at him and smile. “Sometimes I wake up and he’s all the way on top of me. If I’m not sleeping next to him, like if he’s napping he sleeps with his arms crossed. I think he likes having something to hold onto.”

“It’s true, if he fell asleep on the couch in school he’d either be cross armed or spooning one of the cushions.” Niall laughs. “When we were campin’-“

“Niall, I swear to god.” Harry groans against your neck.

“Ohhh, I love when there’s something Harry doesn’t wanna share.” Mariah says. “Go on Niall.”

“It was really funny. Harry and Lou had to share a tent because Lou didn’t have one, so-“

“Niall.” Harry turns over onto his back and sits up slightly. “Here I am havin’ a nice nap, and you have to go and bring up campin’?”

“I’m gonna end up embarrassin’ myself just as much.” He laughs.

“Please, I need to hear this.” You say. “What happened?”

“I woke up cuddling Louis both mornings.” Harry says. “And both mornings, Niall came into the tent and joined us, so there.” You and the girls all look at each other with soft faces.

“That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.” Sarah says.

“Yeah, we cuddle all the time.” Rachel says. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“You’re such a snugly sleeper Harry, it’s cute.” You poke one of his dimples. “I personally really like it, it makes me feel safe.” He looks up at you and smiles.

//

Later you all go upstairs and get ready for dinner. You pick out a flowy yellow sundress, and put your hair up into a high pony. You pull some pieces out like always to frame your face, and you put a little makeup on.

“You look so pretty.” Harry practically squeals. You giggle as he kisses your cheek.

You step back to look at him. He has a pair of tan capri-style pants on with a pair of loafers, and a salmon pink silk shirt.

“So do you.” You smile, and grab his hand to go down the stairs.

You all weren’t sure if you’d be drinking a lot, but you’d be drinking nonetheless at dinner, so you uber to the restaurant. You’re seated at a nice size round table when you get there. Harry was off speaking to one of the waiter’s quick, but you didn’t notice. He sits down next to you, and Niall is on your other side.

You all order your drinks and a few apps for the table before deciding on what you actually want.

“What are yeh thinkin’, sweetheart?” Harry asks you.

“I’m dying for a lobster roll to be honest.”

“Then you should have it.” He smiles. “Think I’m gonna get this veggie burger, it’s an avocado aioli, sounds good.”

You pick at the calamari that’s on the table when the waiter comes back over to take your dinner orders. You all talk about how you’re dreading to going back to reality soon.

“This seriously has been the best trip. As much as I miss Buster, it was so nice to get away.”

“You act like you weren’t just in London like three weeks ago.” Rachel laughs.

“Yeah, I suppose that sounded stupid.” You laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “But that wasn’t a beach getaway.”

“Very true.”

“And we only have to go back to reality for like a week and half until we’re off to Ireland.” Niall says, squeezing Sarah’s hand.

“I’m so excited, what a perfect thing to do before school starts back up.”

“God, I’m not looking forward to getting into a hot and stuffy classroom that smells like old paint.” Rachel laughs. “Although, I have missed my students a little.”

“Same, I can’t wait to meet my new kids.”

“My next class starts in September, this’ll be my fourth one. It’s already flying by, thank god.” The waiter brings all the food over and you lick your lips before diving into the lobster. “Mm, oh my god, now I remember why I liked it here so much last time. This is a damn good lobster roll.”

You all enjoy your meals and more drinks. When you think the night couldn’t get better, you start to hear the restaurant’s birthday song, and your mouth falls open. All your friends were filming you and you smile and laugh as you’re sung to by everyone. You had no idea when someone had the time to bring your cake to the restaurant ahead of time, but you didn’t question it. It was beautiful.

“Thank you everyone!”

One of the waiters leaves a knife at the table, and Harry cuts the came for everyone.

“This was all Harry’s idea, but the way.” Sarah says and you smile at him as he takes a bite of cake.

“Thank you sweetie, this was so nice.”

“He had the cake made at this really nice bakery too.” Rachel says.

“It was all the two of you would let me control out of this whole weekend, I had to do something big.”

You all enjoy the cake and pack up the leftovers. You uber back to the house and your friends have you sit on the couch while they all grab their gifts for you.

“You guys really didn’t have to do anything more for me, honestly.”

“Oh stop it.” Rachel hands you a drink and you smile. “Of course we did.”

Sarah hands you her gift first.

“I’ve been working on this for months so I hope you like it.”

You tear open the wrapping paper and gasp when you see the homemade scarf she knitted.

“Oh my god, I love it! This is beautiful! I love the patterns.”

“I know you can’t wear it for a while, obviously, but you wore so many this winter, I thought I could add to your collection.”

“Thank you so much, I can’t wait to…hold on.” You wrap the scarf around your neck. “Well?”

“It’s perfect!” You hug your friend and giggle.

Rachel hands you a big, and you dig into it. You laugh immediately, and pull out the t-shirt she got you.

“You can only wear that for a year.”

It was a white t-shirt with a picture of that episode of Spongebob, and the caption says, “I thought of something better than being 24…25!”

“I got it off Etsy, I just couldn’t resist.”

“I love it! I’m gonna wear it all the time, this is hilarious, Rach.” You slip it on over your dress and scarf. “I’m really feeling this vibe.”

Mariah hands you a card.

“It’s just a gift card…” She blushes.

“Thank you so much!” You open it up and smile at the card. “I’m glad we’ve become such good friends too. Wouldn’t want anyone else as my boyfriend’s work-wife.” You both laugh.

Niall looks at you and hands you his gift. You smile and unwrap it. You had no idea what it could be. You tear open the wrapping paper, the same Sarah used so she must know what he got you. You gasp and look at him in shock.

“You got me a Stranger Things version of monopoly?”

“For the next game night.”

“I love it! Thank you.” You hug him.

“Okay, Harry, your turn.” Sarah says to him and he sits next to you.

“I had a tough time with this. I’ve gotten yeh earrings, a chain, and even that watch.” Your heart starts to race. The only other piece of jewelry he could possibly give you was a ring. Was he going to propose in front of your closest friends? How sweet! “And we already went to the concert, but I still wanted to get you a little something.” He slips a card out from his back pocket and hands it to you. You open it up and see an itinerary for a round trip ticket. You look up at him confused.

“Another trip?”

“Not for you…you were really sad that your Nan couldn’t come up for our house warmin’, even though you had gotten to see her in Aruba…and you always talk about how much you miss havin’ her around for your Jewish holidays, so I’m flyin’ her up for the New Year in September. And she’s goin’ to stay with us so you don’t have to share any of your time with her, cause I know you hate that.”

Tears well up in your eyes, and you start sobbing. You covers your eyes with your hands. Harry isn’t sure what to do, and neither is anyone else.

“That is…” You say in a high pitched voice between your tears. “The sweetest things anyone’s ever done for me.” You lunge on top of him to hug him. He chuckles and rubs your back. “I love you, thank you so much.” You kiss him.

“You’re welcome, happy birthday.”

You look at everyone and wipe your tears away.

“Thank you all so much, this all means so much to me. I’m so lucky to have all of you.” You all share a group hug.

You had thought to use the fire-pit tonight, but it was drizzling outside, so you all opt for getting cozy in pj’s, drinks, and another movie. You went to call your Nannie again to tell her how good she was at being sneaky. You talked with your mom for a few minutes too so she could wish you a happy birthday. Your siblings had all texted you during the day.

You were all hanging out and just being cozy, and you loved it. Sarah had made frozen margaritas, your favorite. You also dove into a much needed second piece of cake.

“So we’ll go to the beach for a bit in the mornin’?” Niall asks.

“Yeah, if it’s not still raining.” Sarah says. “Then we can come back and pack everything up. The kitchen is all cleaned up, and the air bnb people said they would send a service in to clean out the fridge and what not. We don’t even need to make the beds up.”

“Love when they make things so convenient.” Rachel says. “Harry, don’t you use air bnb for your flat in London?”

“Yeah, my sister is the cleanin’ crew though.” He laughs. “We just tell the people to strip the bed and take out all their trash. She’ll do some of the easier things, but will hire a maid if she thinks the mess is too much for her to take care of.”

You all decide to watch I Love You, Man, another one of your favorites, before going to bed. There were a few times you laughed so hard you cried.

“It’s just the way he says Jobin, it kills me.” You wipe some tears away.

“Nice that both of your boyfriends are in this movie together.” Harry jokes.

“I regret ever telling you I liked them.” You shake your head.

“Honestly, as gay as I am, I would fuck Paul Rudd.” Rachel says and you all burst out laughing. “I mean, look at him!”

“That’s what I’m saying! And look at baby Andy, he still had the curls! Oh my god, next movie night we have to watch Hot Rod, please, we have to.”

“Yes! I haven’t watched that in years.” Sarah says.

When the movie ends you all go up to bed. You couldn’t wait to just wrap your arms around Harry. He lays his head on your chest.

“I love you so much, thank you for everything.” You kiss the top of his head.

“I love you too, you’re more than welcome.”

“How did you even pull all that off?”

“Asked your mum for her phone number. It was a bitch gettin’ her to let me buy the plane ticket, she started yellin’ at me, but I yelled back, I stood my ground. She started laughin’ and gave in. She was really excited.”

“It’ll be so great, she and I can make her brisket together. We used to have the New Year at my house growing up, it was so much fun.”

“I’m glad I could do this for you then.”

“My boss is gonna think I don’t like working anymore with how much time off I’ve been taking. I’ll definitely take a few days while Nannie’s here.”

“You won’t need too much, just Friday and Monday.” You hum your response.

Harry had another reason for wanting your grandmother there around that time…but that would be revealed to you later.

[javier-djarin]

Como Me Duele: Chapter 2

Ship: Javi x Reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 3,385 words

Warnings: Language, Sexual Innuendos, fluff, Dad!Steve (sorta)

Masterlist

Summary: You’ve started getting comfortable in Colombia. Connie and Steve decide to take you out on the town to meet up with some of your new coworkers. Javier can’t help but tag along once he sees you dressed to kill.

A/N: Ahh! I got such an amazing outpour of love and support for chapter 1. Thank you to everyone that has read it! I love you all! Here’s chapter 2!! So, please let me know what you think. Please let me know if you want to be on my taglist! Also, translations are at the bottom.

Your POV

You’d been living comfortably in your apartment for a week now and weren’t scheduled to start working at the hospital until the end of the month. However, thanks to Connie, you had gotten to know several of the staff members that worked there because you had gone out with them last Friday. Connie had invited you to go out with her and some colleagues tonight. They decided to go dancing down at a club in the middle of the city. You were a little nervous to go out dancing with people you hardly knew, but she reassured you that she and Steve would both be there if you needed anything. 

You spent hours trying to find something to wear, when you had reached back into the far corner of your closet and found the ONE dancing dress you owned. It was a tight, body-con red dress with a deep V-neck you had worn only once before. Michael didn’t take you dancing very often; it wasn’t really his scene, but you loved it. As a birthday gift a few years ago, he broke down and took you dancing. He even bought this dress for you. You felt your heart crack a little as you looked at it on the hanger. It was all you had to wear though. You set it on your bed and went into the bathroom to do your hair and make-up. You popped your contacts in and began the long process of getting ready.

Connie and Steve were supposed to arrive at your place in about fifteen minutes. You put the final touch - hairspray - on your loose curls that flowed down your back and shoulders. You smiled at yourself in the mirror. This was the first time you felt beautiful in a long time. You knew it was small, but you felt like this was your actual first step you were taking to move on. There was a knock on your door. You hurried out of your bathroom, grabbing your small clutch. You fixed your hair and dress one final time before opening the door. Connie and Steve were standing there, astonished. “Y/N, you look great!” Connie exclaimed. She was wearing her own dress, but not quite as tight and low cut as yours.

You felt the sudden urge to cover yourself as Steve’s eyes grew wide. “I guess this is a giant ‘fuck you’ to Michael,” he laughed.

You tried to smile at him. “This is the dress he bought me for my birthday a few years ago.”

Connie wrapped her arm through yours. “Perfect. We’ll find you someone that will happily defile that dress for him.”

You laughed this time and felt more confident than ever. Steve led the way down the stairs as you locked the door behind you. “Murphy,” you heard a familiar baritone voice just down the stairwell say, “you clean up nice for a fucking hillbilly.”

“Fuck you, Peña.”

Your heart raced a little, but you couldn’t explain why. You did your best to hide it and held your head high as you walked with Connie down the stairs.

“Where are you headed?”

“I’m taking the girls out to meet some friends.”

“You don’t have any friends,” Peña laughed.

“Again. Fuck you, Peña.”

He continued to laugh, but stopped when he saw you descending the stairs. You weren’t sure if he was aware that his mouth fell open when he looked at you, but he was definitely aware of the blush on your cheeks. He smiled as soon as you tried to look away from him. “Alguien está vestida para matar,” he said, still looking at you, clearly trying to imagine what that dress would look like on his floor. Any time you heard him speak in Spanish, you wanted to melt into the floor, especially when he rolled his r’s. 

“Tú, si no tienes cuidado,” you said quickly.

Impressed, he nodded his head towards you. “I guess I need to watch what I say in both languages.”

You glanced over at him through your long eyelashes and gave him the same devilish grin he gave you the first time you met. You tried to maintain your cool composure, but his black button down shirt clung to his broad chest and stretched over his arms, making your knees even weaker. You didn’t see Connie and Steve share a look as they tried to stifle a laugh. They both knew that Javier was going to have his hands full if he made any moves on you. He tore his eyes away from yours and cleared his throat. “Well, since you’re meeting with friends, I better come along.”

“Peña, don’t I get enough of you at the office?” Steve prodded.

Javier tossed his arm around Steve. “Oh, come on, partner. We’re friends.”

Connie and you covered your mouths to mask your smiles and quiet laughs. Javier shot a glance over at you, raking his eyes up and down your body. You wanted to feel self-conscious, but you’d never felt so desired before. Michael hadn’t looked at you like that in a long time, so it was refreshing to know you still had - better yet, you never lost it. You wrapped your arm through Connie’s as you both followed Steve out of the building. Javier, stumbling, was walking behind you. Instinctively, and just to torture him, you moved your hips just a tad more seductively. You glanced over your shoulder at him, catching him stopping on the top step to watch you walk away. “¡Muévete, Peña!” you shouted, startling him out of the trance your hips put him in. 

Connie laughed again and leaned closer to your ear. “I know I said to ignore him, but this is so much more entertaining,” she whispered.

“He’s not even trying to be subtle,” you laughed, looking back at him.

“Hey, now, ladies. Secrets don’t make friends,” he replied as he jogged down the stairs.

“They do when they’re about someone else,” you grinned.

He raised his eyebrow in curiosity. You guys made it the stoop of your building as you waited for Steve to pull his car around. “Care to share?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No.”

Javier looked to Connie for help, but she just laughed. Steve pulled the car around and hopped out. Javier beat you to the door and held it open for you. “So, you’re a gentleman too?” you chided. 

“Tengo m��s sorpresas si me dejas enseñarte,” he whispered to you as you slid past him. His breath tickled the back of your neck, sending chills up and down your spine. 

“No espere mucho,” you said back, once he took the seat next to you.

You saw Steve shake his head and look at Connie, rolling his eyes. She gave him a look back that you guessed only meant, “At least she’s having fun. Just let it be.”

You tried to find the best way to sit in such a tight dress. The hem slid up your legs just a tad, but enough that you knew it would drive Javier wild. You crossed your legs, revealing more of your thigh as you pretended to look out the window - using your peripheral vision to watch Javier salivate all over himself.

His POV

He threw his arm over the back of the seat and rested the other on the door, looking at her poised so perfectly in the back seat with him. He knew she was doing everything on purpose, because he wasn’t good at hiding his emotions around a very beautiful woman. Honestly, they were his kryptonite. One glance his way, and Y/N had him. He vaguely remembered his promise to Steve, but if she was playing along with this little game, he couldn’t not give her what she wanted. After all, she would tell him to leave her alone, if she wasn’t interested. He picked up on that just by her fiery personality. Javi glanced up at Steve for a millisecond, and he could see him watching him in the rearview mirror. Peña flipped him off subtly and continued to watch her. Steve and Connie were lost in their own conversation, so Javi turned to her to start his own. He lightly cleared his throat to get her attention. She slowly, gracefully turned to look at him - her curls moving across her bare shoulder and bouncing next to her arm. “Cat got your tongue?” she asks with a smile that just about killed him on the spot.

“Nope,” he grinned, shooting another glance at Steve, who was still occasionally looking back at them. “Mia hermosa.”

She rolled her eyes at the cheesy nickname he coined for her. She turned to look back out the window. “Where are you from?” he asked, leaning closer to her. 

She changed positions, crossing her other leg to face Javi. His eyes couldn’t help but drop to the deep V in her dress. “Los ojos arriba,” she said, glaring at him. 

Javi moved his other hand to the middle seat, closer to her thigh. “You didn’t answer the question,” he grinned.

“Texas,” she replied.

He smirked. “Yo soy de Texas tambien.” His hand on the seat moved a little to play with one of her curls.

“What part?” she asked.

“Laredo.”

“Ah, El Paso.” She gestures to herself. 

His grin widens a little as he moves his hand closer to her.

“Peña!” Steve exclaims from the front seat.

Y/N covers her mouth and laughs, as Javier moves back a little from her. “Sorry, Dad.”

“She doesn’t want you groping her,” Steve says through his teeth.

Connie slapped her husband’s shoulder. “Steve!”

“What! Do you want him back there harassing your best friend?”

“She’s a big girl,” he says, turning his attention back to Y/N, “Me dirá si no quiere la toque.”

He saw her try not to swoon over his Spanish. “He’s harmless, Steve,” she said, looking Javier in the eyes. “I was about to slap him away if you didn’t.”

Javier thought he saw her wink at him, but it was so fast he thought he imagined it 

***

Steve parked the car just outside of the club. Javier jumped out fast to get the door for her. Her small, soft hand fit perfectly into his as she held on to him to stand up. “Gracias, hermoso,” She said in a sarcastic, seductive tone.

He placed his hand in the small of her back as they followed Steve and Connie to the door. “Don’t get ahead of yourself there, cowboy,” she whispered.

He grinned. Once inside, Connie grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the table where several doctors and nurses were waiting for them. Javier stood next to Steve and sighed. He watched her sit next to an attractive young doctor, who had his arm draped over the back of the booth just above her. “Who’s that guy?” Javier asked.

“Some doctor Connie works with.”

“Oh, so it’s fine if Connie’s colleagues hit on her, but if I do, the world ends.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “That’s exactly what will happen.”

“Then what is it?” Peña pleaded.

His partner led him to the bar, where they sat down away from the group. “You remind Connie and I of her ex,” he sighed, “and if you remind us of him, you’re definitely a reminder for her.”

Peña grabbed the glass of whisky the bartender dropped off. “Well, I’m not her ex. I’m not a piece of shit that will cheat on her.”

Steve choked on his drink. “You’re kidding, right?” Peña looked at him, offended, “Look, you can hardly keep the same woman in your bed for more than two weeks, and aren’t you a regular down at the brothel?”

He knew Steve was right, and he hardly knew her enough to say he’d give all of that up. For all he knew, he just wanted her to be another notch on his bedpost.  He turned in his chair and leaned his back against the bar. “But look at her.” He saw her glancing over at him with a smile, and his heart stopped. “I think you need to let her make that decision.”

“Peña,” he said, “Connie already warned her about you. She loves you, but she doesn’t think you’re right for her best friend.”

“I think Y/N disagrees, because here she comes,” he grinned, finishing his drink and setting it on the bar.

“Secrets don’t make friends,” she said to him.

“They do when they’re about someone else,” he replied, giving her a taste of her own medicine.

She laughed, and he felt his heart start again. It was the most angelic sound he’d ever heard. “There’s plenty of room for both of you at the table,” she said.

The young doctor came up from behind her and placed a hand on her back. Javi tensed up and clenched his jaw, instantly jealous of this doctor. “¿Quieres bailar conmigo?” he said in her ear.

She grinned and turned to face him. “Sí. Uno momento, por favor.”

She turned back to Javi. “Lo siento. Anyway, Connie told me to tell you both to stop being fuddy duddies and come to the table.”

Steve sighed and resigned to doing his wife’s wishes. Javi held back for a moment. “¿Quien es ese cabrón?”

Y/N blushed and looked over to her dance partner. “Dr. Rodriguez. He’s new to the hospital too. Kinda cute, don’t you think?” She nudged Javi in the side.

Javi let out a disgruntled growl. “Yeah, if you’re into the lost puppy look.”

“Oh, you mean like the look you’re always giving me?” She walked away with the same gait she had at the apartment complex. 

He was only pulled out of his trance when he heard Steve yell for him from across the bar. “Peña, get your ass over here!”

He rolled his eyes and joined them, taking Dr. Rodriguez’s seat next to a cute, young nurse. On any normal night, he would be making his moves on the nurse, but not with Y/N distracting him. He looked out at the dance floor and saw the cabrón holding her closer than he would have liked. She spun around so she was facing him, but continued dancing with the doctor. Rodriguez wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in closer as his hand rested on her lower abdomen. Javi’s hand balled into a fist. He turned to the nurse next to him and smiled. “¿Quieres bailar conmigo?” he whispered delicately in her ear.

She smiled at him and involuntarily licked her bottom lip. She daintily held her hand out for him to take and lead her to the dance floor. More people flooded the dance floor, including Steve and Connie. He grabbed the nurse, holding her close to him so he could look over her shoulder at Y/N.

Your POV

You watched Javi dance and move against Lolita, the nurse, and you felt your face turn red. You haven't dated in a while, but you knew this feeling. You were jealous, and you knew just how to get him back. You placed Rodriguez’s hands on your hips, letting him pull you closer as you moved to his rhythm. Despite you doing this to annoy Javi, this felt good. You hadn’t been touched by a man in months. You were so touch starved that you were borderline desperate. 

His POV

Javi felt his face flush, so he buried his face in the nurse’s hair and let his hands travel down her body. Lolita pulled away and rested her forehead on his as she smiled. He tried looking around her so he could still watch Y/N. He felt like shit using this poor woman to get to her, but she had left him no other choice. He saw her reach up a hand behind her and place it on Rodriguez’s face as she laid her head back on his chest. Rodriguez then buried his face in the base of her neck. At that point, Javi had enough. “Lo siento. No puedo hacer esto.” He dropped his hands from the nurse and started to approach Y/N and Rodriguez.

Your POV

You had closed your eyes as soon as Rodriguez started kissing your neck. Thank god for the loud music, because you were pretty sure you let out a small moan. You were on cloud nine when you suddenly heard a loud baritone voice boom over you, “¡Oye, cabrón! Ella esta conmigo.” You opened your eyes and saw a very flushed Javi standing in front of you.

“Javi!” you exclaimed, it’s the first time you had called him by a nickname.

“Dance with me,” he demanded.

You turned to Dr. Rodriguez who was looking very confused at the two of you. “¿Estás con él?” he asked.

“Vine con él pero no estoy con él.”

“Ella esta conmigo,” Javi growled.

His growl turned something in you, and you leapt out of Rodriguez’s arms into Javi’s without a second thought. Rodriguez held his hands up in defeat and dutifully bowed out of the dance. “What the fuck!” You exclaimed.

“Javi…?” he grinned at the use of a nickname.

“What? Connie calls you that.”

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close. “If anyone gets to dance with you like that, it’s me.”

“That’s if I want to dance with you,” you replied, throwing your arms around his neck, playing with the small curls at the base of his skull.

“Then walk away.” His breath on your skin sent more chills down your spine. 

“I also don’t like being told what to do.” You felt his hands rest on your hips. “Just because I let you dance with me, doesn’t mean I’m going to let you take me home.”

He laughed. You could listen to him laugh forever. “Are you going to dance with me, or just stand there trying to see down my dress?”

“I can do both at the same time if you’d like,” he grinned.

“I knew you’d be trouble when I first met you.”

“Por siempre y para siempre, hermosa.”

***

It was at least three in the morning when everyone stumbled back to the apartment. Connie had had too much to drink, and so Steve was carrying her up to their apartment leaving you and Javi alone in the stairwell. “So…?” he started, raising an eyebrow at you suggestively. 

You put a hand on his chest, preventing him from joining you on the same step. “Hold on there, cowboy. I may be drunk, but not too drunk to remember telling you that you’re not taking me home tonight.”

He grinned. “Tonight? So you’re saying there’s a chance later.”

You leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for a fun night, Javi. I haven’t had this much fun since…” You paused.

You wanted to explain, but you felt like he already knew. He rubbed your arm to console you and nodded. “Any time, Y/N. That’s what friends are for.”

Smiling, you replied, “So we’re friends now? Five seconds ago, I do believe you were trying to look down my dress again.”

Javi blushed. “We’re friends, until you decide to change that.” He returned the kiss on your cheek and walked into his apartment.

You felt butterflies in your stomach as you watched him close his door for the night. This was not how you were expecting this interaction to end, but you couldn’t feel happier. Javi made you feel sexy, wanted, and since Michael cheated on you, you never felt like you were enough. You craved to have Javi look at you, like he did when he first saw you walk down the stairs. He made you feel like a beautiful woman again who deserved every bit of attention he was giving her. However, your wounds were still too fresh. You weren’t ready for anything like that. On top of that, Javi reminded you too much of the early days when you and Michael were together. A few times, while you were dancing, that’s who you pictured was holding you. But Michael had stopped being that man long before he cheated. Men like him were always the same. Restless. Unfaithful. Just looking for another notch on their bedpost. 

Translations

Hermoso/Hermosa - Handsome/Beautiful

Alguien está vestida para matar. - Someone is dressed to kill.

Tú, si no tienes cuidado. - You, if you’re not careful.

¡Muévete! - Look alive! or Hurry up!

Tengo más sorpresas si me dejas enseñarte. - I have more surprises if you’ll let me show you.

No espere mucho. - Literally: Don’t wait long. It’s another way to say “Don’t hold your breath.”

Los ojos arriba. - Eyes up here.

Yo soy de Texas tambien. - I’m from Texas too.

Me dirá si no quiere la toque. - She’ll tell me if she doesn’t want me to touch her.

¿Quieres bailar conmigo? - Do you want to dance with me?

Sí. Uno momento, por favor. - Yes, just one minute, please.

Lo siento. - I’m sorry.

¿Quien es ese cabrón? - Who is that asshole?

 No puedo hacer esto. - I can’t do this.

¡Oye, cabrón! Ella esta conmigo. - Hey, asshole! She’s with me.

¿Estás con él? - Are you with him?

Vine con él pero no estoy con él. - I came with him, but I’m not with him.

Por siempre y para siempre, hermosa. - Forever and for always, beautiful.

Taglist

@magneticbucky

@larakasser

[winifredsandersonsbitch]

Stripper with a Heart of Gold

Spike x Reader, BTVS

Warnings: minor spoilers for S5, cursing, PG-13 action but nothing else.

Description: Spike promised you he’d get the money, so he picks up a job. You’re out with your coworkers when you catch him in the middle of his shift at the Sunnydale Strip. It’s more than a little awkward.

Clearly, I have a thing for bad boys who offer financial security 😫

When you come in for the night, Spike’s waiting. He’s been slipping twenties in your pocket lately like you wouldn’t notice (who else but Giles has that kind of cash?) and you haven’t brought it up despite your guilt. You really need the help. Keeping the three people in your household fed + all of your frequent visitors is expensive, especially because Buffy burns through so many calories daily. Plus the water bill, the electric bill, and all of the crazy damages that you have to somehow try to budget for in your monthly expenses...

Tonight he follows you up to your bedroom while the girls are downstairs watching TV and closes the door behind you.

“Spike, if you think—”

There’s a huge wad of cash in the hand he holds out to you. For a moment, you can only blink at it, mystified.

“Take it. It’s for you.”

You reach out for it as if in a trance, then recoil like you’ve touched something scalding.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing at, but I can’t accept this,” you say, but it comes out quiet and not at all assertive.

“I want you to have it.”

There’s a little furrow between his eyebrows that deepens when you pull away. He doesn’t understand you. He’s seen you at the diner, working yourself to the bone, plastering on a smile for all of the customers even when they cross a line. You hate it there, but you do it for the money. Now he’s offering you enough to get through the whole month, as long as there are no surprise visitors, and you won’t take it.

“I don’t like to be indebted to anyone.” You’re shaking slightly from exhaustion and the unexpected gift, so you lower yourself onto your bed and clasp your hands in your lap.

“No, you’re worried about where I got it from. Isn’t that right, pet?” He sits down next to you, placing the money on your nightstand and patting it twice. “There. Now it’s passive. You don’t have to take anything, I just left you an early birthday present.”

“Spike.”

“I got a job, all right?” He turns your face to his, examines the bags under your eyes. “You’re not the only one with a work ethic around here.”

“I can’t support you going back into smuggling. Or gambling. Or—”

“It’s an honest job. I work the night shift. That’s why I haven’t been around so much lately.”

You hadn’t noticed, if you were being honest. You were too busy trying to keep everyone you loved alive and fed. Maybe that was his point.

He strokes the side of your cheek with his thumb and it’s an effort not to lean in, to pick up where the two of you left off only the week before.

Was this what he had been like with Drusilla?

You force yourself to pull away, removing his hand from your face and threading your fingers through his to keep him still. He’s been so touchy recently. You can’t trust your reaction to it.

“If that’s true, it’s still not right of me to take it from you if you’re under any impression about—” You swallow. Your palm starts to sweat under his. “We’re not— I mean, I can’t ever— I know we’ve been close recently and if that’s the reason why you’re giving me this, because you think it’s going to make us... if you think what happened last time is going to be some kind of recurring thing—”

He’s watching you stumble with open amusement, without any indication that he’s going to come in and save you from yourself.

“If this money is meant romantically, I can’t accept it,” you say finally. “I don’t want the strings attached.”

“Full of ourselves, are we?” he asks, slipping his hand out of yours. The loss of contact seems to bother you more than him.

He heads for the door, leaving the money next to you. You skim the bills with your fingers as if possessed, almost salivating at the thought of relative financial security. You could get your friends real presents for Christmas and focus on paying off your loans with your next paycheck. Maybe even—

He catches you in the act and you jerk back guiltily. Spike only shakes his head. Then he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jacket and his smile slips.

“You and I both know that money is the last thing you need to be worrying about right now, what with Glory after the little bit.”

He’s right, but you’re not happy about it. You make up your mind. You try to keep your expression neutral as you hand him back the bills. He can’t know what it’s costing you to turn this down.

“I can take care of it,” you say. You look him in the eye. “I will take care of it. Thank you, Spike, but I don’t want your help.”

“It’s hard for you to lower yourself to my level when you don’t know how long I’ll be around.”

The observation makes you blink and the cash crumples as you ball up your fists. He’s right, but how dare he say it?

Spike places his hands on your shoulders to keep you from charging. You have the same look on your face that Buffy gets right before she slams him up against the wall and rattles his brains.

“I get it. I’m still the same old evil Spike who’s tried to kill you and your friends so many times we’ve lost count. But I’ve got this chip in my head and I’m bloody bored anyway, so let me do something for the one person in this house I can stand, all right?”

You’re wavering, but it’s not enough. Your hand just opens and closes on the cash robotically as you try to process what you’re hearing, calculate the odds of this self-destructing, decide what the right thing means in a situation like this. Before you can revise your morals to fit, Spike goes in for the kill.

“You said once that we were friends for now. That as long as I wasn’t killing people and wanted to hang out, you’d be there, because you thought everyone had the capability to do good. You thought you could change me.” He’s fond of this memory. You can hear it in his voice that he still thinks it’s bullshit, but it gives him the warm fuzzies anyway. “I don’t care about the world or the superfriends or the ethics of vampirism. I care about you. If we’re friends like you say, let me do this for you.”

You open your mouth and then close it, like a very stupid fish. Spike chuckles and pats you on the head the way you might soothe a puppy.

“If it would help you to believe this is the first step in me developing some kind of moral compass, go right on ahead, love.”

——

You had only started your day job about a month ago and you were only working part time, but you know how important it is to make friends in the workplace. So when they finally invited you out for the night, you were ecstatic.

They told you there was a bar just off the highway that they liked to frequent. We’ll carpool, they said. You’ll love it, they said.

It’s a strip club.

Fluorescent lights stripe across the top of the building, supporting a flashing sign with a topless girl with tasteful silver stars over her nipples. The bouncer at the door has definitely done hard drugs at some point and the music blasting from inside is deafening even out in the parking lot.

After a moment’s hesitation, you roll with it. You know how to relax, even if everyone else thinks otherwise. You can play the necessarily part, share giggles with the others as you watch the show. You can slam back tequila shots and find it in you to order a round for the table. This is an opportunity, you tell yourself, to pretend everything’s normal for a night.

The “bouncer,” who is probably only there to flatter the older customers by checking their ID, lets you all through and your coworkers drag you to seats in the front. There are poles at various stages sprinkled casually throughout the main area and scantily clad men and women are visiting tables. Every so often, they lead a patron into the back for a private dance.

You’re not a total innocent, but it’s still hard to keep yourself from blushing as you walk past them, unsure if you should make eye contact or not. It’s been awhile since you were anywhere remotely as recreational as this. It’s harder than you thought to shake off your big sibling persona, so you head to the bar with Marie and bring the first round of drinks back to the table.

“This place is special,” she tells you, sipping her Cosmo. She pats your hand in a way that’s near maternal, though she’s only older by two years. “It takes a little getting used to at first, but don’t be scared.”

“Scared?” you laugh. The scariest thing you see is a guy sitting in the back corner trying to coax over a stripper who clearly knows better. You could take him, if it comes to it. Easy.

“It’s a Sunnydale special, that’s all. But it’s a clean business. Perfectly safe, as long as you follow the rules.”

You’re about to ask what those would be when one of the dancers slips off the pole and bites a customer. You bolt from your seat, searching for anything stake-like, but Cara rises to put a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, relax. It’s okay. Watch.”

Watch? That vamp is going to drain that girl dry, you can’t just sit back and—

The dancer removes herself after about thirty seconds, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and blowing her partner a kiss. The girl’s table congratulates her with wolf whistles, slamming back another round of drinks.

“See?” Cara says. You sink down slowly, still watching wide-eyed. “You have to pay extra for biting, but it’s worth it.”

Gina puts a cool hand to your forehead. “Are you feeling all right, sweets? I know it’s a little different, but you said you’d lived in Sunnydale for years. We figured you were familiar with the undead populace.”

“I was.” You’re a little dazed. Mentally beating back your fight-or-flight reflex with a shovel. “I mean, I am. Only not like this.”

“Capitalism at its finest,” Marie sighs.

“Yeah, it’s regular symbiosis,” you agree absent-mindedly.

Things were so much easier when you were helping Buffy kill demons outright. All this moral gray is confusing as hell.

“Everything all right, ladies?”

Oh, shit.

The lighting is low so you duck your head and pray that he doesn’t see you cowering behind Gina, but luck is not on your side today. Cara has decided you’re being too uptight.

“I’d like to buy a private dance for my friend,” she purrs, pointing a manicured finger to you. “They’re new, so be gentle.”

“I’ll do my best,” he says with a wink, making the girls giggle. “What’s your name, love?”

Then his eyes meet yours and you inhale a breath that catches in your throat. Gina elbows you, like Hot, right? You elbow her back and pray he chooses not to embarrass you.

Spike’s pupils are blown. He’s tucked into nothing but tight black briefs and a tie that hangs down to his navel. The rest of him is laid bare for your view and you are really, really trying not to look.

After a beat of surprise, he takes your hand and pulls you out of your seat to lead you to the VIP area in the back. The girls are calling out behind you to have fun, already chatting up another stripper.

He sits you down in an open booth. On the other side of this smaller, darker room, there’s another vampire with a customer. She waves at Spike and then continues gyrating on her guy’s lap as he pours out all of his problems about his ex-girlfriend.

“I didn’t know you worked here, I swear,” you whisper, turning your attention back to him. “I wouldn’t have come if I did.”

“I don’t mind, pet.” He lowers himself onto you before you can protest, leaning in close. You swallow hard. “Your friends seem fun.”

“They’re coworkers, really. This is the first time we’ve been out together. I didn’t know we were coming to a, um, club.”

“I believe you.”

He’s steadying himself with his hands on your shoulders now, his breath ghosting over your face. He’s been surprisingly sweet about this so far, but there’s a bite to him. He’s still, as he frequently reminds you, evil. He’s taking this opportunity to demonstrate it.

“You’re tense, love.” His knees spread to either side of you and he rises up on them so that his chest is level with your face. You have to tilt your chin up to look at him. To make sure you look at nothing else. “Let me help. After all, we want your friend to get her money’s worth.”

He’s so close that he’s practically on top of you as he moves, swaying his hips back and forth, squeezing his knees to the outside of your thighs to keep him steady. It doesn’t matter that nothing below the waist actually come into contact with your skin. You can feel it. Him. Tremors shoot through your nerves as he leaves behind any semblance of stuffy British politeness and grinds down on you, grinning wickedly the whole time, like all roads lead to him and this club, like he somehow planned the whole thing. Then he leans back and holds out the end of his tie to you and you make a decision. You tug him towards you.

He’s everywhere, insistently parting your lips to slip his tongue in, knotting his hands in your hair, making you moan in a way that’s still completely indecent, despite the setting. Your eyes close and you briefly wonder if the other vampire and her client are still here, if they’re enjoying the show, but then you can’t think of anything except him.

His fingers begin to massage your lower thigh, creeping upward to trace the sensitive skin left exposed by your very short shorts. He’s drawing hearts, but you’re certain it’s not love he’s thinking of. It’s about blood. Isn’t it always?

“Wear these to tease me?”

“You wish,” you pant. You keep your palm wrapped around his tie like it’s the lifeline between the two of you, the only thing keeping you from drifting off into space. He presses back into you, this time giving you a taste of the show everyone else comes to see.

There’s nothing tender about this part. It’s gasping and bruising and pent-up frustration, maybe on your side more than his. It’s harsh, consuming. It feels like you’re being swept out to sea by a riptide. There’s no life vest in sight.

Then you’re coming down from your high and he’s working you through it, murmuring to you about how rightly jealous your friends are going to be at the bright hickey on your neck. He’s taking care of you, just like he said he would.

He smells like graveyard dirt and cinnamon. You’d make some quip about it being the cologne of the season among undead strippers, but you have to focus on breathing.

You’re disgusted with yourself. You’re elated. It’s confusing, but there’s no doubt that you’re disappointed when he takes his thumb to swipe away a strand of saliva that’s been left hanging and pulls away.

He untangles himself from you, leaving your lips pink and swollen and glistening, and tugs you out of the booth.

“Your friends will be wondering where you are,” Spike says. He’s sweating a little. You can see it beading on his chest. You’re proud. You caused that.

“And you need to get back to work.” You straighten your top, combing through your hair with your fingers, trying to compose yourself when you don’t know if you’ll ever be fully coherent again. You don’t know the etiquette for situations like this anymore, so you offer him a half-smile and stuff your hands in your pockets. “I’m sure the club’s missing their best dancer.”

He’s never been one for humility, so he just nods. He can’t help biting his cheek in satisfaction as you walk past him, all hot and bothered, hair mussed and cheeks pinkened. He did that.

When you get back to your table, your coworkers demand to know all the dirty details, although they’re busying themselves with throwing money at one of the pole dancers.

Spike stops by on his way to another table with some excuse about returning your bracelet, which he no doubt stole off your wrist during your “dance” for this exact purpose. He folds it into your palm, then bends to whisper in your ear.

“I’ll come by the house after my shift.”

Your friends practically swoon.

[bluezey]

Inside Onward - Dream Duty

I think you guys are going to like this one.  So far the emotions are following what happens in the movie.  But this chapter, this doesn’t happen in the movie.  That’s right, this chapter is 100% original to the story.  Consider it a deleted scene from Onward, all thanks to Ian’s emotions.  And I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did, cause after I was done writing this, I needed a good cry and the biggest hug from both my Fear and Ian dolls.

Thankfully, and finally, things were becoming uneventful.  Ian and Barley were driving down a bumpy, unpaved road into an untamed wilderness that’s been hardly touched for decades in the darkness of night, but other than that, uneventful.  They’ll be safe inside Guinevere, right?

Fear was overlooking the short term memory shelves, a task he ritually does every night before Ian falls asleep.  He was jotting down notes in his little notepad, noting and checking the memories of key events throughout Ian’s day.  He also made a note of how there were a lot of purple memories at the start of Ian’s day, but throughout the evening it became less and less.  Sure, he was in charge a lot, he still as a job to do.  But seeing more colors, more signs that his coworkers have helped Ian, maybe this is a sign that he’s on the right track.

“Hey Fear?” Disgust asked, approaching the purple emotion from behind.

“Whuh!”  Fear fumbled to grab his notepad in midair, but had to bend over for his pen.

Disgust couldn’t help but cross his arms and roll his eyes.  “Hmph, you are so jumpy.”

“Heh heh, thanks?” Fear said as he stood up, holding his notepad in front of him like a security blanket.

“Speaking of that,” Disgust continued,” that’s what I wanted to say… thanks.”

Fear was taken aback by that.  Disgust was being nice to him?  Well, he was still snarky, but the green emotion’s tone was less snippy.  “Thanks?”

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Disgust smirked, brushing a loose stand of hair back in place.  “But seriously, I’ve noticed you’ve been acting different tonight.  Okay, you’re still a frightened little scaredy dragon, but I’ve noticed you trying to hold back and let us on the console some more.  You’re even letting us share it sometimes.  You’re still not good at it, but you’re doing better.  So, my point is, keep at it.”  Disgust leaned in and smoothed out a wrinkle on Fear’s sweat shirt.  “And try fabric softener next time.”

Fear was silent as he watched Disgust walk away on that prideful saunter of his.  Disgust was still acting like Disgust, but he almost said a compliment to Fear!  Maybe… maybe things are getting better.  As he thought this, Fear caught Anger walking by.  “Hey, Anger,” he smiled and waved.

Anger gave the most judgmental sneer as he stormed by.  “grrrrrrrr……..”

Fear nearly sank as he stepped back in fright.  Okay, maybe things aren’t getting better.

“Uh oh,” Joy reported playfully, noting the vitals on the console.  “Looks like sleepyhead can’t keep his eyes open any longer.”

“Okay gang,” Fear announced. “Let’s get Ian somewhere safe to sleep. We need him well rested for when he meets dad tomorrow.”

“Ugh, how is going to sleep in this dirty old van?” Disgust thought aloud.  “And he has no comb or toothbrush.  He’s going to be a total mess tomorrow.  I can’t let that happen!”

Sadness helped Ian into the back of the van as Joy pointed out a small bench in the back they can sleep on.  Joy patted Sadness’s back and left the console, Sadness alone to help Ian settle in on the narrow plank as best as he could.  Joy approached Fear as he was passing by the recall tube.  “Hey, great birthday so far, right?” Joy said to Fear cheerfully.

Fear chuckled nervously, but his smile was genuine.  “Yeah. Unforgettable.”

“Hey, don’t give the forgetters down in long term any ideas,” Joy joked.

“Oh they better not forget these memories,” Fear replied, his fearful side showing through more. “These are very good memories we made today.”

“Dang right, they are,” Joy said before asking, “So, you’re on dream duty tonight, right?”

“Yup, Ian should be hitting R.E.M. any minute now,” Fear commented as he looked up at the screen, watching as Ian’s eyelids fall heavier with every blink.  “You guys should go get ready for bed.”

“Actually,” Joy replied, “the other emotions and I have been talking, and we think we should sleep on the floor tonight.”

Fear’s face fell, his nerves rising.  “You’ve… been talking about me?”

“No, not you,” Joy replied, trying to calm Fear’s worries.  “We’ve just been thinking that today has been pretty eventful, and we should be nearby so we can get back to work when Ian wakes up.  Don’t worry, we’ll be right on those couches over there,” Joy pointed to the couches.  “We’ll be right there if you need us.”

“Okay,” was all Fear could manage as Joy ran off.  But, inside, he was feeling less okay than he felt just moments ago.

Sadness watched as Ian’s eyes closed and remained closed, leaving the screen blank.  “We’re asleep,” Sadness reported.

“Good job, gang,” Fear said as he tapped his foot on a button by the recall tube, sending the memories cascading from their shelves and rolling into the various recall tubes into long term memory.  “Let’s get some sleep.  Ian has an even bigger day ahead tomorrow.”

The other emotions chatted to each other as they both settled in on the couches.  Fear took that moment to leave for the break room, making a quick cup of soothing tea to enjoy during dream duty.  When he returned, he found Headquarters was quiet and dormant.  The short term memory shelves were empty, and the memories were flying off into long term memory through the recall tubes.  Anger, Joy, Sadness and Disgust were curled up together on the couches.  Sadness lying flat on his back, Anger sleeping in a sitting position with his hands folded over his abdomen, Disgust with his head and legs propped up on some pillows, and Joy curled up in a cherub like fetal position, his hands tucked under his grinning face.  Fear crossed the floor and gently placed his mug on the edge of the console.

Fear then took that moment to quietly panic to himself.  What am I doing, he practically screamed inside his head.  He threw his head back, his knees practically buckled as he shoved the palms of his hands against his tightened shut eyes, his nerve twisted up into a ball nestled into his blue hair.  After giving a big, irate, terrified groan through his grit teeth, Fear finally broke from his melodramatic stance and began to ritualistically pace back and forth by the console, his hands gripping tightly at his sides.

Things couldn’t be falling apart any further if they tried!  Ian had the worst birthday ever, and let’s not forget how his birth night has been!  Magic gifts! Half a dad!  Fiery Manticores!  Car chases!  Blood thirsty pixie dusters!  And who was the liar??  Was Joy the liar?  How could that be possible?  Joy must be the only emotion in Ian’s head who loves Barley the most, and can genuinely tolerate him.  What about Disgust, or Anger?  Even Sadness doesn’t like Barley that much.  But, none of them were at the console when the spell failed.  And why was Family Island lit up?  Ian tolerates his big brother too, and the yellow core memory powering Family Island, including the statue of Ian and Barley, proves it.  So why was it lit up?  And what was Fear thinking??  Agreeing to take the Path of Peril??  For crying out loud, it’s called the Path of Peril!!  It couldn’t be more blatant of a stop sign if the name was emblazoned on a bright red octagon!!

Fear froze in his tracks as the projector whirred to life from the console, displaying a live broadcast from Dream Productions.  Well, looks like Fear can focus on dream duty instead, for now.  Fear took a sip of his tea as he watched from behind the console.

Onscreen began one of the usual dreams Ian commonly had.  It was nighttime, the sky was clear and littered with bright stars.  Ian was on a cliff that was overlooking a steep drop into the sea.  Okay, not literally on a cliff, Ian was safely away from the cliff so all he could hear was the ocean waves.  As well as crickets, the crickets sounded a little louder than the waves tonight. Sound mixing must be getting their act together down in Dream Productions.

Ian was busying himself with a telescope, overlooking the stars.  After looking into the telescope for a brief moment, Ian adjusted the focus, looked again, adjusted the tracking, looked again.  He caught a shooting star flash by, so fast he could have missed it if he blinked.  He stood up and made a note in his notebook before going to the front of the telescope to check on a few things.

Fear smiled, he took another sip of his tea.  He liked these stargazing dreams.  Relaxing, uneventful.  And they didn’t easily turn into nightmares like those dreams at school usually do.

Ian turned and left his telescope so he can bend over and pick up a star atlas out of his book bag. As he turned back to approach his telescope, he paused, his eyes slowly grew in wonder.  Instead of the telescope, there stood a wizard staff. It was sticking humbly out of the ground, but stood straight and proud, as the warm glow of an orange gem began to light the night around them.  Though it was still night, the sky began to illuminate like the recent dusk of sunset.

Fear looked at the screen, both curious and worried of where this is going.

Random selection of stars began to glow and drift slowly yet gracefully from the night sky.  They floated both aimlessly like feathers, but with direction like fireflies.  One by one, the stars gathered in the open between Ian and the wizard staff, as Ian silently watched in awe.  The stars gathered into a collective of light, which gradually took shape, and faded into the form of a familiar stranger.

Dad.

Fear was in as much wonder as Ian was, both praying that it wasn’t a dream.  Fear slowly approached the screen, as slowly as Ian approached his dad.  With each step, it as if Fear could feel their wish that this was real growing, as if he was stepping ever nearer to reality, with the burdened truth that he would never reach it.  But in the dream world, anything could happen.  Thankfully, the miraculous, graceful and forgiving side of the dream world was unfolding tonight.

Fear stopped just inches from the screen, looking as if he was standing in the field right beside Ian, as Ian was standing just inches from his dad.  After the longest pause, it felt like a minute short of eternity, Ian collapsed into dad’s welcoming, loving hug.  Ian squeezed tight as he could, never wanting to let go, letting his tears fall if they must and stain dad’s sleeve.

A little sniffle was heard, but Fear knew that sound didn’t come from the dream.  He gave Ian the biggest smile as he placed his hand on the screen, looking like he placed his hand on Ian’s shoulder.  

“Not much longer, Ian,” Fear whispered to Ian.  “Tomorrow, you’ll finally see your dad.  And you’ll finally be the person you were meant to be.” Fear gave a smile with the least amount of worry and timidness that he ever gave in his life.  “I promise.”

In the van, Ian rolled over into a more comfortable position on the narrow bench.  It appeared a small smile was on his face.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #349

“we’ll meet again, when both our cars collide”

When was the last time you had a PopTart? It's been many, many months. Do you like hot chocolate? Well duh. Who made you laugh the hardest today? I haven't really laughed today. Who was the last person to promise you something, and what was it? Hmph. Would you ever jump into a fire to save your bestfriend? I know I would. Do you have a callus from writing too much? No, I only have calluses on my feet from when I used to walk for hours on end. They just never permanently went away, even with grooming. Who is someone you’ve made a bad first impression on? I dread to guess what the girl Jason dated after me was told about me. I shouldn't care at all, but I do. I have every reason to accurately be defined as "the crazy ex," and I fucking hate it. Who is your best guy friend? Girt, a friend from high school. Do you read cereal boxes while you’re eating? I did as a kid, but now I don't. I just kinda stand and eat. What’s the last thing you accidentally (or purposely) burnt? I kinda burnt the roof of my mouth on pizza the other night. Do you know anyone with a lip piercing? Me, haha. I know others, too. What did the last tattoo you saw, look like? I don't remember. Have you ever given birth? NO FUCKING THANK YOU. Do you enjoy making out? I mean if I'm in the mood to and I love you, yeah. Why exactly do you take surveys? "I genuinely like doing them and they’re great for venting and sorting out thoughts and whatnot. I can just ramble and get things off my chest." <<<< This right here covers it. As well, it's just a boredom killer. And I happen to be bored very, very often. Rockband or Gutair Hero? Both are great, why choose just one? What are you listening to right now? Halocene's cover of "Helena" by My Chemical Romance. It's beautiful. What kind of energy drinks do you drink, if any? None, because I just can't do energy drinks. They taste like pure poison to me. Have you ever been swimming in a river? No. Swimming in a river sounds pretty dangerous... Does your alarm clock wake you with music, or with an annoying buzz sound? Music. When you broke stuff in the house as a child, did you blame it on siblings? I'm hoping you don't mean breaking deliberately, 'cuz I wasn't that kind of kid. But anyway, I don't believe I did. Did you make it all the way through the Oregon Trail game? Yes. I was obSESSED with those games as a kid. Lions and tigers and bears, oh my! Which one are you more scared of? Tigers, probably. They're so stealthy and, while I may be entirely wrong, seem like the top candidate of the three to attack a human, be it for food or defense. And have you SEEN the muscles on a tiger? Christ. Describe the best use that you’ve found for duct tape: Uh, taping things lmao. Do you wrap gifts or use gift bags? I use gift bags, because I can't wrap for shit. What fast food place do you avoid at all costs? Arby's is really gross to me. Are you afraid of deep sea creatures? Just giant squid... *shudders* Have you ever agreed to purchase something on Ebay and got scammed somehow? No. I did, however, purchase something on deviantART and never got the product. It was going to be a present for Jason. In dA's defense though, I've bought like... two or three other things from there, and there were zero issues. It's really about the people you trust. If you get a call that says “Unknown”, do you answer it? Nnnnope. Do you have any bobble head figures? No. Have your parents ever left you somewhere without realizing it? I don't think so. Have you ever been in a tanning bed? No. Did your last kiss mean anything to you? Well yeah, I wouldn't have kissed her otherwise. Would you say that you have a nice smile? No; I've been self-conscious of it since I was a kid, mostly because one of my eyes looks more squinty than the other, but they both are to me. I've always said I look high when I smile lmao. Is there an ex you want to make up with? My mind immediately screams "Jason," but I know that's a horrendous idea. Our last talk ended peacefully and even with care and good wishes, and I need my fucking impenetrable head to accept that's where it needs to end. He does NOT need to re-enter my life. It would be so bad for me. Do you remember how you felt on 9/11? I have no memory of it, if I'm being honest. What outfit makes you feel the most attractive? None. Other than yourself, who knows you the best? Really? Whoever reads these lmao. What’s one complaint that you have about school? Common Core and how every student's school experience was not tailored towards their unique goals. Like they try to cram a shitload of identical and usually useless information into a kid's brain to make them a jack of all trades, you could say, but not enough information they need to properly pursue their career future. It causes such an unnecessary amount of frustration and stress. I have many, many complaints about the education system, but this one tops the list. What do you do while you’re on campus but not in class? Back in college, I would just do stuff on my laptop. Do you know anyone who has Autism/Asperger’s syndrome? Yes. Are you open to a same-sex relationship and why or why not? Well, considering I'm bisexual... Do you remember life without the internet? No. Have you ever found yourself to be ugly? I've gone my entire life thinking I'm ugly, if I'm being real. What is your state’s minimum wage? $7.25 a fucking hour. :'''''') Is there something you want to say to someone but can’t/won’t? There's a few people. What is your first memory of being in a hospital? Considering my mom worked at the local hospital when I was a kid, I remember being there quite, quite young, playing with my older sister in Mom's and her coworkers' room. I think Nicole was too young to really "play." Do you have any relatives with red hair? No. What is something good that has happened to you in the past week? I got my first Covid vaccine. My arm hurts like a motherfucker now, but to protect my mom, it's worth it. Please get vaccinated. How much was the rent/mortgage at the cheapest place you’ve ever lived? That's never been my business. Have you ever been to a gay pride parade? No, but I would go to a local one if I could actually walk five feet without being in serious pain and sweating like a pig. Do you still keep in touch with your very first best friend? We're friends on Facebook, but that's it. What was the topic of the last conversation you had with your dad? I can't remember, but it was recent, because we all met at Ashley's house for Nicole's birthday celebration. How often did you visit your grandparents when you were growing up? Pretty much never, given they all lived no less than like, 10 hours (via car) from where we lived. My immediate family are the only people in NC. When two family members are fighting, what do you usually do? Stay out of it, but admittedly try to listen just to know what's going on. Do you like the smell of men’s cologne? Yeah. What’s your all time FAVORITE freezer food? Do you eat that a lot? I survive off of microwaveable freezer food, so this is very hard... uhhhhh... perhaps this Banquet bowl meal that's mac 'n cheese with spicy chicken. It's absolutely delicious, like you'd never guess that sucker was just popped in the microwave. I'd say I eat it a moderate amount; it's a reliable option if Mom's not cooking and I'm really hungry, because it's super filling. Do you like documentaries? Have you ever watched one and find it boring? I enjoy them, particularly when they're about animals. Were you ever a fan of macaroni & cheese? Do you like Kraft dinner? Ha, speak of mac 'n cheese. I love it, and Kraft makes it fine. Do you burn incense? Not as much as I used to. I love the smell and just general vibe, though. What would you consider an unacceptable first date? Going to a bar or something. Have you ever been so sick you had to be taken to the hospital? In the head, anyway. Is there anything currently bothering you? Multiple things. Would you say that you’ve got something ‘special’ about you? No. Do you like things vampire-related? I don't really have an opinion on vampire stuff. Are you the kind of person who does not like talking about their past? I don't care. Have you ever been to a casino? No. What’s the last thing you wore a costume for besides Halloween related events? Back when I still took dance classes and we had the yearly recital. What does your father do for a living? He's a mailman. What’s the last app you downloaded on your phone? Haha, I re-downloaded this ollllldddd game I had before, Nyan Cat: Lost in Space (or something like that?) for my niece to play. She's hooked on it now. Are you in any discomfort right now? Yeah; as I mentioned, my arm really hurts. What do you know the most about? Of all things I know, almost certainly meerkats. Are you seeing anyone? No. Have you ever hooked back up with an ex, just for sex? Was it a mistake or no? No. Have you ever gotten in trouble for using a phone in class? No, because I didn't use my phone in class. Have you seen all the Shrek movies? No, which is a fucking crime. I need to see the last one. Have you ever finished a whole video game? Plenty plenty plenty. Do you know anyone with a pet snake? Yeah, myself included. If you had to live in an extreme environment — think Sahara, Antarctica, under the sea, on the Moon— where would you want to live? Why? Probably Antarctica. I'm sure it would be unpleasant, being that cold, but I feel there's more you can do about being cold than being in the scalding heat of, say, the Sahara. Living on the moon or in the deep ocean sounds super sucky. How was your day overall? It's been okay. Not as bored as usual, at least. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust? Like... zero. I want to say my dad, and I almost do, just... nightmares make that very, very difficult. Plus his past. What does your mom call you? Normally just "Britt." Write a sentence in another language: Oh god, my German is so rusty... uhhhh... Hallo, ich heiße Brittany, und ich bin 25 Jahre alt und wohne in North Carolina. I think I got the grammar right? Have you ever sent an X-Rated picture to someone? No. Even if I was comfortable with my body, I would be way too paranoid to at any point have a naked picture on my phone, even if I deleted it. Like, hello blackmail, but also, nothing you delete is ever really gone permanently. What big city do you live near? Raleigh is like an hour away. Do you like breaded chicken sandwiches? omg YES Is there a Sonic in your area? Yes, it's my favorite fast food joint. You have GOT to try the pretzel twists with cheese dip. Have you ever gone to a thrift store? Yeah, I love 'em. Do you think Johnny Depp is attractive? I do. Are you happy with the state you live in? No, not at all. I hate this place. Bunch of homophobic, racist rednecks. How many times have you seen the opposite sex naked? It's not like I counted every time I saw my ex naked over three and half years lmao. How many times have you seen the same sex naked? A few times. When days go by, do you cross them off on the calendar? I don't use a calendar. Are you currently counting down to something? If so, what? MY TATTOO APPOINTMENT!!!!! :''') I know I can't stop talking about it, but ugh I'm so excited. May 19th, c'mon already. Do you pay rent to your parents? No. Do you dye eggs for Easter? I used to as a kid. Not so much anymore. Are you in debt right now? For what? Oh god, I don't want to think of this. Would you ever work night crew? I really, really wouldn't want to. Humans are diurnal for a reason. Being awake in constant darkness would depress the fuck outta me, and it'd feel so lonely, with everyone I know asleep. Who was the last person that lied to you, or that you can recall lying to you? What did they lie about? How did you find out they were lying? I don't remember. Has anyone ever called you ugly, straight up, before? How did you react to this? No, not to my face. Who is the most stubborn person you know {excluding yourself}? MY MOTHER.

[angesaurus]

What is the office culture like at your employer?

🤔 is this a trick question trying to get me to talk about how much I make from the post I reblogged earlier? 😉

I truly enjoy where I work, many of my coworkers have become friends. It’s a casual office, we can wear (almost) whatever we want (managers tend to dress nicer). Sometimes they do fun little games or lunches. We throw baby showers and wedding showers for people. Everyone gets a thanksgiving and Christmas gift (cash - this is different than our end of year bonus) and everyone gets a birthday card with a crisp $20 bill in it (I’m not sure if they have been doing it while we are remote though. Guess I’ll find out soon). However we are super super super busy so sometimes people are stressed. Some of the older people are MISERABLE but the younger people tend to have a good time. I am pretty social at work and talk to a lot of people. A lot of people stay there for a looooong time. I won’t be surprised if I end up there “forever”. We’ll see what happens.

[brokebuckkmountain]

Today was the worst

(long rant ahead, mostly about workplace politics with irl problems sprinkled in for flavor)

So. I’ve already been in my feelings lately due to like: life sucking, it’s the plague times, I am struggling to find a psychiatrist despite being told it was imperative I get help immediately, it’s winter and winter makes me sad, I’m losing friendships left and right thx to Miss Rona, I hate my job, yesterday was the one year anniversary of my breakup, there’s tons of gossip about me at work for things I genuinely did not say, and some of my work buddies are ignoring me for no apparent reason (including my best friend who has been ignoring me since my literal birthday a month ago? It’s all her friends that are ignoring me to it’s hard not to think it’s something related to that). Also, those PMS mood swings are a bitch.

I wanted today to be a good day. I wanted to get up early. I wore my new clothes and new perfume and was excited to train a coworker I genuinely like who was never trained when she was hired a year ago and struggles to get through her shifts. I mean I volunteered to do it for free because she deserves the help. But no no. Today was not a good one.

-I was woken up at 3 am to a litany of text messages from an ex asking to hook up again. Promptly fell back asleep and missed my later alarm, causing me to have to skip my workout this am and rush my shower.

-My boss didn’t assign my trainee online learning or make a schedule, told me I was a “strong enough trainer” to just do what I felt needed to be done. That was all he said to me, no further instruction. This is important later. Trainers and trainees are considered non-coverage and I run into an issue with this everytime I train- shifts want us on the floor doing different tasks than what I’m actually teaching. I personally think being a little backed up for 30 minutes is preferable to new hires not knowing how to do things because they never got one on one time, but most supervisors think otherwise.

-My trainee and I had about 25 minutes until our joint lunch break. She had expressed to me that knowing more about the mechanics of coffee- what is the body of a shot, why does it expire, what’s the difference between blonde and regular- was helping her, so I decided 25 minutes whizzing through that part of training before lunch was fine. I was immediately chastised by someone we’ll call Manager 1 because that “isn’t part of the training”. It very much is, and is available on every training resource, it just never gets taught because of time constraints and corporate not really caring about coffee quality. Manager 1 has consistently made a scene every time I train a new hire over us doing training and not just whatever she wants to get done. Manager 1 is also known for berating almost every one, and has lied about altercations that never happened between me and customers before to our manager. So she’s not exactly a fan favorite of mine. I maintained that the coffee basics was part of training and returned to the back, planning to use that time to do coffee basics and more memory games for drink recipes.

-After about 5 minutes, my coworker came to the back and told me the two managers wanted us out there helping. I went out alone to tell Manager 2 (who was technically in charge and generally less awful) what we were working on and asked if they really needed us or if they’d be okay. She said they needed us and Manager 2 began snapping that we were floor coverage, that my trainee was supposed to be on the floor all day, and that she had no business in the back “staring at a computer screen” (which we were not doing, but I digress). Since this is about the fourth time I’ve had this issue with this particular manager, I responded that we were supposed to be doing whatever I felt needed to be done, not working the floor. When they maintained that they were “under the impression” from our boss that my trainee and I were to remain on the floor all day, and we were coverage, I said “I guess I got confused by the dashed lines on the schedule that signify non-coverage as us being non-coverage” and went to get my trainee.

-My trainee knew the situation because she had overheard, got super nervous, and started making drinks wrong that she had been making correctly all day. During this time I overheard Manager 1 and Manager 2 not-quietly discussing them both texting our boss to complain about me. Fair, I guess, since I planned on doing the same when I was on my lunch. At one point they both left the bar area to send their texts and squat by the safe while waiting for it to unlock (it’s on a timer and beeps when it’s ready, no need to hover) which only infuriated me more- they moved us to bar so they could leave it. When it was finally our lunch time I sent my trainee and was pulled aside by Manager 2. I tried to move the conversation to the break room (something I have always been adamant about- not publicly berating coworkers in front of others) but she stayed on the floor where multiple people were and reprimanded me for my bad attitude. I told her I was never instructed to stay on the floor, had a schedule, and would’ve been more flexible if they had actually spoken to me rather than yelling and demanding. She maintained that I had a bad attitude and needed to follow orders. I said, once again, “mutual respect goes both ways, if you want me to incorporate things into my training schedule then you need to have an actual conversation with me about it and not demand it at random”. She said that as my superior I wasn’t allowed to “talk back” (ignoring my point that they had both, indeed, begun yelling at me) and told me my bad attitude “wasn’t a good look” and that she didn’t feel I was understanding. I said I understood perfectly that I shouldn’t be rude, but that they shouldn’t yell at me either, and I wasn’t going to take unprofessional yelling to pull me off my job as a trainer. Manager 2 didn’t listen to a word I said and kept going “you can’t have an attitude, do you understand?” so after a period of staring at her silently I said “Can I clock out for my lunch now and proceed with training?” and walked away.

-After lunch I was able to continue training, only because that part of the training constituted us being on the floor helping. I apologized profusely to my trainee for putting her in that situation, reassuring her that regardless of who was in the “right” or the personal issues of the people on the floor, my first priority was her being able to successfully learn and feel comfortable. She told me she had a hard time focusing on drinks and was anxious after the scene, and that she felt the public reprimanding I received was far out of line and unprofessional. I told her I knew that, but being as it was two managers against one me, I would probably still receive a write up tomorrow morning and not to let it worry her when it did go down (tomorrow is our final day of training and my last day before a long break from work, so I know it’s going to happen in front of her). She said she would talk to my boss on my behalf and I told her not to worry, I didn’t want her pulled into workplace drama, but she insisted it wasn’t right (she is considerably older than everyone in the workplace and I think a little protective of me since we volunteered together and I’m the only one who doesn’t chastise her for small mistakes). We’ll see if she says anything tomorrow but I don’t want her to feel like she has to “go to bat” for me and involve herself in unnecessary drama against people who will lash out at her.

-While trying to clock out, I overheard Manager 2 trying to get other coworkers of mine to give accounts against our boss to his superior over not liking their scheduling. Perhaps I’m biased, because I am friends with my boss and literally vacationed with him this summer, but he is the type to listen to concerns and always give people the benefit of the doubt. I’ve never seen him give a write up and he bends over backwards to accommodate people. So whatever their issues are, something tells me they haven’t brought it up to him. Manager 2 frequently breaks safety protocols because she “doesn’t care if she gets Covid” and has vacationed out of state many times resulting in us not allowing her to come back to work and being short staffed. Despite this, I’ve never given my boss her name when he asks who is breaking safety protocols. Manager 2 is well known for being deeply unpleasant, her and my boss have been at odds for years from working together at another location, and has frequently tried to egg on other employees to get our boss in trouble while refusing to make any formal complaints herself. If you’ve been following for a while, she’s the same ass-kisser who used to say my old boss could break any rules she wanted and allowed herself to be constantly demeaned in hopes of a promotion (10 years without a promotion and she thinks it’s unfair rather than realizing she’s mean and unpleasant, chooses to attack the people who do get the promotions she wants). I know there’s a way to spin those two plotting against my boss as a way to cast some doubt on their accounts of me, but no way to do it without being a blatant shit disturber who’s just retaliating. Which is not how I want to live my life. But he deserves a heads up.

-Now I’m sitting at home with an arts and craft project I came up with to give my coworkers all a gift before the New Year and no desire to do it. Like, fuck these people, why should I do something nice for them? Even though I know the majority are good people, just not the ones in management. No energy, completely lethargic (yay depressive episode and still no antidepressants because I can’t get ahold of a goddamn psychiatrist even though my GP okayed the antidepressants herself), wishing I just could get a better job but I need the insurance at mine. It’s one thing to be constantly belittled and insulted by customers (and a very big thing, at that), but to get it from coworkers too just makes me feel awful, day in and day out. I know I’ve hated my job for the entire 3 and a half years I’ve been there and bemoaned how much less interwork drama I’ve had at every other job I’ve had (so I don’t think it’s all me, many agree it’s a toxic environment likened to a high school), but quitting a job you’re great at, passionate about (at times), live super close to, that gives you insurance, during a pandemic? Harder than it looks.

Life sux. Super anxious for tomorrow. Thanks for reading. Pls don’t reblog.