#just have that bouncy childlike ‘we really get to do this!!!!’ moment but have it happen like every episode

[reyesstrand]

You know, I’m very excited about the obvious wedding and rings and planning BUT I’m also VERY VERY excited for the disgustingly cute dialogue and scenes of them telling each other how excited and ready to marry each other that is def coming

LITERALLY LIKE….them having to deal with getting through a heat wave and (another) unpredictable storm and the thought of their parents helping with wedding planning….but still finding the unimaginable joy in just waking up to one another. sure there’s tk’s alarm going off and the promise of another hectic week of contrasting shifts ahead, but they have these few moments to themselves: moments where they can run fingers through bedhead and press closed-mouth kisses to warm skin and come to the same realization that they get this, forever. carlos will lovingly jostle tk, pulling him closer. “six months today,” he’ll whisper, mostly into tk’s hair, and tk will bring carlos’ hand to his mouth, placing careful kisses to each of his knuckles, pausing on the fourth finger to imagine the feeling of a ring.

or tk coming home to carlos flipping through one of the wedding magazines someone dropped off to them and tk feeling the weight of the day easing from his shoulders as carlos calls out to him, asking about his shift, and, after getting a response, bringing the conversation to an article he saw about colour schemes, and another about the merits of paper versus digital save-the-dates. and tk wants nothing more than the day to be perfect but he’s always so worried about making the wrong choices, so he says, “you should ask my dad, i didn’t inherit his eye for design.” and he picks at a cuticle, and out of his peripheral watches carlos frown and put down the magazine and move over to where he’s leaning against the counter. he feels carlos cup his face and tk looks at him, gently reaching up to remove carlos’ glasses and carefully put them on the counter before curling his fingers in the back of carlos’ shirt. “babe,” carlos will start, moving his thumb back and forth along tk’s jaw. “i don’t care about any of that. i just care about marrying you.”

or there being a close call and they end up in the hospital again, ignoring the beeping of heart monitors and the careful observation of nurses, tk squeezing carlos’ hand and reminding him he has to wake up so they can get married. or they’re doing anything, really, and that feeling they experienced at three in the morning…it never fades. it just ebbs into something stronger, something resilient. they’ll go pick out their rings, or go to cake tastings, or bicker over something stupid due to stress, or cry through the list of rom-coms they’re determined to get through in anticipation of getting their own happy ending, and it always comes back to spending together forever and the excitement never goes away.

or carlos strolling into the firehouse after getting tk’s beckoning text, smiling at the sight of his fiancé and his team milling about the kitchen. carlos suddenly thinking back to sadie at the sight of their lunch and remembering her speech about his belief in destiny and realizing that, once his eyes fall to tk—who is already watching him—she read him like an open-book. the two of them standing with their shoulders pressed together, a quiet form of connection. they’ll eat and joke around with the team and eventually carlos will pull out his phone and send an exasperated glance at tk over yet another paragraph of a text added to his family’s groupchat: this one a piece of advice from his mother, who heard it from lucy, who heard it from a friend of a friend. tk reads over his shoulder and hums, and carlos will say something about tk choosing this, to which tk will squeeze carlos around the middle and tell him: “and i’d do it again, because it means i get to marry you.”

or the night before the wedding, the two of them giddy and unable to sleep, surprisingly not worried about a thing because their friends have promised it’ll be perfect and at this point they’d stroll into a courthouse to make it happen. “i love you,” they’ll promise, a vow of their own before they say the real ones in front of everyone they’ve come to consider family. “this time tomorrow, you’ll be my husband,” tk will say, a smile overtaking his whole face, and carlos will kiss him again and again.

[paperpeacock]

Loid Forger x Yor Forger - Falling for you

Summary - A Christmas special with the Forger family, where Loid finds himself catching feelings for his fake wife. (Merry Christmas you guys! have an awesome Holiday : D)

The streets of Berlint lay coated in sugary snow fresh from the sky, dressing each roof in a brilliant white. It was Christmas time in Ostania, meaning the whole country was buzzing with giddy excitement. The capital especially, decorated in colorful lights and warm smiles. It was a dream. A dream that could take a nightmarish turn if one was not prepared. 

Loid peered down at the letter in his hands, face stoic but heart pounding.  

“Oooh, Anya also wants a bondman figure!” she cheered, cheeks rosey from smiling. Being from an orphanage, she never got the childlike wonder of Christmas, instead having to spend it huddled up next to other children just for warmth. Upon hearing how saddening her experience had been, the spy and assassin hyped up Christmas a lot, getting her excited for the holidays. But also forgetting who would have to fulfill all the fantasies they spewed out. 

“Do you think Santa knows who Mr. Bondman is?” She beamed, her fondant locks bouncy up and down. OfCourse Loid was familiar with Christmas, but never did he have to stress buying the presents for a child. 

“of course he does” he smiled, picking her up into his lap. He’s gonna have to. Anya quirked a brow. But before she could unravel the truth, her mother stepped in. 

“Are you ready to go send your letter to Mr. Santa?” She asked. Loid appreciated her lack of stress, her voice always gentle with Anya. 

“Mhm!”  

She grabbed Yor’s hand, skipping her way out the door. The coal-haired women lent Loid a smile before leaving. Loid felt himself smile on his own, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest. What is this? He paused for moment. Shaking his head. No, this was for the mission. She was for the mission. 

The morning was buried in fresh snow, air crisp and cold, each breath like a puff of smoke. The forger family were getting ready for a busy day, with Anya getting ready for Christmas activities at school and her present ready for the shopping trip of their lives. 

“By now I’m sure your letter has made it to the North Pole” Yor smiled, fixing her daughters coat.  

“Really!?”  

A few moments later the bus had arrived in time, sweeping Anya with it. Leaving the Spy and Assassin to discuss their plan.\ 

“Okay, I’ll head to the shops in Carving Lane and you’ll go to Oliver Street?” She recited the schedule back to loid. “And then we’ll meet and the Museum ready with Miss Anya’s gifts!” She grinned. The blonde only nodded, thinking over his own plan. 

She checked her watch. “Well, I guess I should get go-” 

“Actually” 

Actually? Wait, what am I saying? This is the best plan. There is no actually. 

“Yes?” he met her gaze. Ruby eyes twinkling into his own, putting him on the spot. 

“Actually, I think it would be better if we both go at the same time, so we can both pick out what's best” 

What's best? What's best would be if you stopped talking. 

“Thats a great idea!”  

“Really? okay let's do that then” he smiled at her, cheeks tinted slightly rose. 

The two set off in the same direction, with loid trying to justify his change in plans to himself. 

The capital of Ostania was truly stunning in winter, the canvas for thousands of postcards and the setting of the long-awaited Christmas special of Berlint in love, considered by Becky Blackbell to be a national treasure. But anyway, the couple made their way towards the first shop, admiring the well decorated display cases of each store. One in particular caught Yor’s eye. Loid noticed her ruby gaze staring adoringly upon a pink knitted scarf in the window. Loid made a mental note to return here...for the mission ofcourse, He had to keep his fake wife happy so she would stay with him. 

“This is it” He announced. The two were met with a large building, within it in laid a maze of never-ending toys and crowds. 

Jeez, this looks like hell. Loid thought to himself, the energy slowly draining from him. 

“This is going to be a nightmare” The sound of her laughter filled his ears, he turned towards Yor, cracking a smile. At least she felt the same. 

“Let's see what they have” He smiled at her, preparing to shove and or kick any parent within the shop's doors. 

The building was lined in gold, scarlet and wood, boasting a tremendous number of toys and people within its walls. But the pair were unfazed, knowing the floor they had to go to. Floor 5, dedicated to action figures and tv shows. They nodded at each other, making haste pace against the marble floors, shoes clacking along with the hundreds of other parents. 

Together they squished in an elevator, overflowing just like the rest of the building. Due to the amount of bodies, Yor was forced to press her chest against a wall and against her back pinned Loids chest, a compromising position to say the least. The night haired women felt her heart drum against the wall Infront, trying her best to stay normal and still, whenever Loid got too close she couldn't control her fluster. While she struggled beneath him, Loid couldn't help but breathe in the scent of her perfume. He recognized the smell to be Lily of the valley, a pleasant scent to be near to. 

Finally, the elevator had arrived on the fifth floor, relieving the both of them. 

“Now, where might they have Mr. Bondman” Yor puzzled, scanning the store. Loid watched her. Scarlet gaze shimmering about the store. 

“Loid?”  

He was pulled from his thoughts, faced with her gentle looks. He had caught himself daydreaming too often. 

“Sorry, I think that we’ll find him in over there” He coughed, moving towards the action section of the room. He lately found himself growing soft. More open towards his phony wife than any girl he ever dated. She was different, hard to read and quick to react. And despite his confidence to woo any women he was assigned to, Yor often rejected his affections and yet still blushed near him. She was far more Stange than any girl he’d met. 

They managed to gather all of Anya’s gifts before Christmas, all wrapped with pretty paper and charming bows. Bondman figure’s, peanuts, stuffed animals and more. She was going to love it. 

Finally the morning had arrived, outside the window lay a city awash in white and inside a family cozy and warm. The floor was flooded in wrapping paper, even Bond had paper in his fur. Anya was giggling about the Christmas tree, excitedly unraveling each gift brought by Santa. The couple watched their daughter with smiles on their faces, thoughts filled with happiness, ones which Anya enjoyed reading. 

“Look! Santa brought presents for Mama and Papa!” She cheered, brining over the two boxes over to the couch. 

Hm?  

What this? 

As they each held the boxes in their laps, Loid and Yor faced each other. She lent the blonde a smile, rose painting her cheeks. 

“Merry Christmas, Loid-san" 

[animeyanderelover]

Can we get Yandere Mafia Levi going after the naive Starbucks barista?

Mafia Levi? Alright, modern AU then.

Tw: Yandere themes, stalking, possessiveness, obsessiveness, threatening, manipulating, killing, kidnapping

Mafia Levi going after the naive Starbucks barista s/o

⚔️Do you ever notice the handsome man who keeps visiting your shop? You might, who doesn’t notice a handsome man with sharp features. But besides that, do you ever notice the other things? Do you notice how he always only seems to come when it’s your shift? Do you ever question yourself why he only gives you a huge tip? That he always stares at you? And this scary and intense look he gives everyone who touches you or flirts with you? And do you ever notice that all of them only shortly after either get in huge financial problems or die due to an “accident”. Do you notice how he keeps squeezing himself in your life?

⚔️First of all, who is this man even? It’s Levi Ackerman, the man who is feared in the whole country and worldwide known. A face and name who only very few people saw and heard and even less who came out alive after seeing him. He has a huge number of pawns working under him even though most of them don’t even know his real face. Only the most loyal people, people he trusts know under him, also known as his personal squad. He’s known to be merciless to his enemies, brutal and vicious to everyone who stands in his way. But is that true?

⚔️Whilst many call him a “devil”, there are also some who label him as a modern “Robin Hood”. Because what many don’t know is that Levi donates on a daily base a huge amount of money to poor cities and people who were left behind by society. He himself was abandoned by the rich, often had to beg in order to get at least a bit of money. But in the end he couldn’t save his mother, dying from starvation and terrible hygiene, drinking dirty water and often eating thrown away food. He knows how these people feel, living in such a modern world and still having to suffer like this. And he wants to help such people because he knows that no one else will. Despite being a mafia there are also many things he doesn’t want to interact with, leading to many criminals calling him a honorable man. He witnessed the impact of drugs back in his childhood, how it ruined people and decided to never do business involving this slow killer. Whilst very cruel with police men and every task force going after him, he also always tries to not get too many innocent involved because he also knows that not all people are bad, back in the day remembering that some people bought for him and his mother food, some more than just once.

⚔️He also, despite being very harsh, also made sure that people who worked under him, most likely people who had gone to similar shit in their pasts like him, were taken care of as well as their families, making him desired, many people wanting to work for him. But there were special conditions that someone had to fulfill. No drugs, body hygiene and undying loyalty. Because if you betrayed him, he would finish you off mercilessly and stop caring for your family. That was the dark side of him.

⚔️So how managed Levi, a man who had the blood of tons of people on his hands, to fall for you, a rather naive Starbucks barista? Call him crazy because you most likely don’t remember, but you two actually met before back in childhood. You were one of those people who often bought him stuff, be that pastries, sweets or other take away food, letting him choose what he wanted and paying with your own money. Levi never forgot such a kind act, especially not since at that time it was so rare for him to experience friendliness. He never forgot your name, having asked personally for it. And whilst he admitted that he didn’t recognize you at first when one day walking just in the shop, the lightbulb went on in his head when hearing one of the co-workers calling your name, the nagging suspicion that he had seen you somewhere before suddenly making sense. So you were that child from back then!

⚔️Levi wanted to thank you, but couldn’t. There was no guarantee that you even remembered him and there was also the danger that if people would find out that you knew him they would be after you, meaning troubles for him and that would made you a threat he would have to remove, something he didn’t want to do. So instead of thanking you, he just set for transferring a not small amount of money to your account as a kind of payback for your kindness.

⚔️But there was also this certain curiosity in him. Had you changed during all this time? Or were you still the same? You were the first person he had ever met who he still remembered so clearly. It was supposed to be just another small visit to observe you a bit, that was all it should have been.

⚔️So the next time he visited, he sat down, planning to stay for a bit longer and to observe you a bit closer. And in a way he felt relieved that you still were such a unaffected and innocent person, of course a bit too naive, but still the same. In a way Levi was impressed that you really hadn’t changed a bit, still this same childlike grin and more bouncy personality.

⚔️Everything went well, it was just supposed to be a small visit. And that’s all it had been to Levi. That was until he planned to go, but just about as he was to go, you suddenly called after him to wait and give you a moment of his time. At first he was a bit confused to why you wanted to talk to him, but turned around nevertheless, asking you confused what you wanted. And that’s when you said something that shocked him. You asked if you knew him from somewhere, after rubbing your head embarrassed admitting that you reminded him of a kid back then, he might look healthier and have more weight than the child you were referring to, but there were still a lot of similarities. You had never forgotten about that child and just wanted to know if he was by now alright or not, knowing that he had lived under poor conditions.

⚔️For a short second Levi was too shocked to reply, not believing that you still remembered him before mentally slapping himself and declining your offer, telling you that you must confuse him with someone, making you laugh embarrassed and apologize for the sudden interruption, storming back to the store. And Levi watched you for a while longer before continuing his own way, but his mind was in that moment by you. You remembered him! Remembered an insignificant kid for whom many person hadn’t given a care. But after so many years you still remembered and you still cared, making a warm and fuzzy feeling erupt in Levi’s chest. Maybe another visit wouldn’t be too bad?

⚔️One more visit became two, two became three, three became four and very soon he was referred to you as your “loyal guest” since he always came when you were working, Levi having gotten access to your work plans in no time. You two often chatted a bit with each other, Levi often coming when you were about to close to walk a bit with you and get to know you better before having to go his separate way. And you never failed to make his heart flutter, Levi found himself often stunned by how childish you really had remained, often throwing childish tantrums and pouting and sulking when something didn’t go your way. It led Levi to often scolding you slightly that you should start acting like a grownup when in reality he actually liked this behavior of yours. It gave him a feeling of ease, to know that you hadn’t changed at all.

⚔️Levi knew that he wasn’t supposed to enjoy this as much as he did, knew that if the wrong people would find out that you had a connection to him, you would get in huge danger. And he had tried one time before to stop, he really had. But two things had changed his mind. First of all his mind had killed him, his emotions screaming at him to go back. And when he had come back you had nudged him playfully and afterwards poured, saying in a hurt tone that you had missed him. You really were feeding his dark desires, weren’t you? Did you even know who he really was? That he could turn your whole life upside down?

⚔️The more Levi was pulled into this sinister rabbit hole called obsession, the more possessive and stricter he got with you. He started showing his dislike when he saw other people talking to you, walked you now home and even started telling you that you should stay away from certain persons since he got a bad feeling about them. Secretly he felt bad for manipulating you like this, but he couldn’t help. You were his! He wouldn’t let anyone else have you!

⚔️Of course there were moments where he couldn’t be with you due to personal business, but in such moments one it two of his most talented and trusted members were always watching you, knowing too well about their boss’s obsession with you since it was always their job to collect information about you plus they had seen the happiness and love in Levi’s eyes whenever he had spent time with you.

⚔️Levi knows that you two are like lion and mouse, he’s dangerous for you and found endanger your whole life. So at first he would try to start a normal relationship with you, removing every potential rival and gaining all informations on your likings and how to properly court you, even going as far as setting scenarios up where he’ll save you from dangerous situations and make himself look like a hero and if you fall naturally for him, at least at first nothing might look wrong.

⚔️But there are a couple of possibilities to why he could kidnap you. If someone on who’s bad dude he got finds out about you, if you yourself figure it out, reject him or when his possessiveness and paranoia that something might happen to you even after you were willing to start a relationship with him. There will come a time where Levi will take you away from your safe and secure home. He knows that isn’t right, he knows that he shouldn’t do this. But if he would leave you behind and something might happen to you, he would make the world burn.

⚔️If you already know that he’s a mafia, Levi would also tell you that he actually lied to you and is the kid from back then, shattering most likely all your trust in him and causing you to not believe that the small and helpless boy turned into such a powerful and cruel man, even you having heard from this famous and mysterious mafia.

⚔️Levi would never leave your side and if he does, he always has some members of his squad with you which would be the only ones who are allowed to know about your existence. He has a couple of trackers on you, so small that the human eye can’t see them, but deadly affective. He will find you, no matter how far away you are.

⚔️Prepare yourself to often move around, the life of the mafia including to change destination quite often, Levi always making sure to keep a tight security around you. He’s more understanding if you should distance yourself from him after finding out the truth, accepting it to give you more space and let you calm down. But do remember that he hasn’t the best string of patience and at one point will become more aggressive with his behavior. You brat want to act like a child? Fine then, he’ll treat you like one!

⚔️Despite all of this you would be his biggest weakness, his soft spot which can and will break him if you would die. Because Levi would be totally devastated, bottling his emotions up before exploding at one point. It’s better if no one even dares to hurt his darling because Levi will not only strangle this person barehanded, but also wipe out every single person they loved. Only so they know how he would feel if someone would take you away from him.

[fluttering-by]

I'mma be that gremlin that says Jin.

Mostly bc I want to complain about Jin. ^^;

Aah okay let's vent about Jin together then DX

Favourite thing about them: The fact that he is an AI child and acts like it!! Oh my god because listen, I have written papers comparing AI to humans from a psychological point of view and the conclusion I always arrived at was that, because an AI's learning process so closely matches a human child's learning process, that means an AI who gains self awareness would likely be more akin to a child than an adult, and it's the responsibility of the people who create said AI to be aware of that. So the fact that we had Jin as a character who was bouncy (which is really hard to program into an AI, that's why you've got all those Boston Dynamic dancing videos and stuff, because movement is bloody hard, so props to Horobi seriously) and had childlike curiosity was just so fun and I honestly miss it so much. Baby Jin used to question things, he used to be so smart and aware of things, he used to be so caring, what happened???

Least favourite thing about them: The fact that he was suddenly replaced with a weird facade of himself in a Jugglus Juggler cosplay. We had something so special and he was replaced with someone so... ordinary. And I think we all knew Jin wasn't really dead, so I was never really sad when he died because I knew he'd be back, but then he came back... like that? And it was like... all that excitement... You know what else I hate? The fact that Horobi's escape from the basement was overshadowed by Jin's return, like... Horobi cannot have anything to himself, can he? We couldn't be happy that he was free and could do stuff finally (hahahahahahahaha) because it was overshadowed by not-Jin. He couldn't cry for Jin on his own because Aruto had to cut in. He couldn't break free from the Ark on his own because Aruto had to cut in. He isn't allowed a single moment to himself. Anyway this is about Jin, not Horobi, but I just... I don't like Juggler Jin as I used to call him back then because just... What happened?

Favourite line: Okay having just complained about Neo Jin, I have to say now that my favourite line is probably the one where he's dying and says about Horobi being his dad, just because it felt so satisfying to finally give Horobi that. And it was like... the one time Neo Jin was nice to his dad.

BrOTP: Ikazuchi? Is the only person I can think of?

OTP: Nothing, none, absolutely nobody, he's a baby!

NOTP: Literally everyone, he's a baby.

Random headcanon: Jin's new affinity for gardening came from Horobi. I always associated Horobi with gentle nature things, and I seem to remember that Nakagawa and Sunagawa themselves have the hc that Horobi was actually the one that decorated their hideout, so it makes sense that that kind of decoration and stuff would come from Horobi, and Horobi seemed to care more about how things looked than Jin, and he's just... very flowery? So my hc is that Jin's stolen interest in gardening actually came from Horobi and it's something they could have shared.

Unpopular opinion: The thing that makes Jin special is Horobi, and the fact that Yua can apparently revive him from the data in his earpiece was the final straw that completely ruined his character. Sensorimotor abilities are very difficult, and Horobi did it perfectly with Jin, Jin having been made by another AI and clearly more advanced than the average HumaGear is what makes him special, so Yua should not have been able to do anything with him and it absolutely infuriates me that she could. Not only does it just make Jin as a character make no sense anymore, but it also completely disrespects Horobi's character as his dad who created him.

Favourite picture of them:

Hehe

Okay maybe my actual favourite photo would be from a photobook, one of the ones where he and Ansatsu-chan are messing with Horobi, but this was easier to get and angst hehe.

[bauslut]

ii. what makes a man?

pairing: aaron hotchner x rowan rivers

word count: 3.840k

warnings: canon typical violence -- blood, gore, mentions of murder, discussion of murder, discussion of weapons, cursing, trauma, dealing with trauma, death of children

prev. | next

“here you are,” jj bore a kind smile as she slid a manila folder towards the brunette, “here’s your official welcome to the bau. i’m sorry it wasn’t on more.. positive terms.”

“oh,.it’s quite all right,” rowan’s eyes widened, “this is what we’re here--”

“she’s sitting in my spot,” rossi chuckled, “but i don’t mind.”

“are you sure?” rowan stammered, a rosy blush painting her cheeks, “i-i can get up and move--”

“don’t sweat it,” rossi nodded curtly, “there are plenty of open seats.”

“hey baby girl,” a wide, jovial, grin painted morgan’s lips as a woman entered the room, her blonde locks intricately woven into an up-do, “don’t you look delicious today?”

“as always,” the woman scrunched her nose, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose, “how are you this morning baby-cakes?”

“hey there!” a chirp startled rowan, sounding from her left, “i’m emily, but around here, i’m referred to as prentiss.”

she was met with kind eyes, a warm mocha hue. they were bright, glimmering as they followed every minute movement as rowan studied her features. the woman was gorgeous without a doubt, with full lips and an oblong face. her hair was luscious, parted down the middle, styled into bouncy curls.

“hi,” rowan breathed, sticking out a hand, “i’m rowan riv--”

“i am afraid we do not have time for introductions,” a stern voice echoed through the space, “we are fbi agents, not kindergartners. we can have icebreakers or whatever it is you’re doing on the jet.”

rowan choked back a sharp retort as hotch strode towards a whiteboard, his spine straightened, chest puffed out slightly. sliding into her seat, her hands settled on the armrests, a puff of air exhaling from her lips. she was sandwiched between two seasoned agents, as morgan was munching on a bag of cookies on her left, prentiss sifting through papers to her right.

maybe if she just shut her mouth, she would blend in and he wouldn’t pay any sort of attention to her. which, wasn’t such a bad idea in the moment. the less he focused on her and berated her, the better.

“cookie?” morgan rattled the bag.

“not right now. thank you though,” rowan whispered, lips curving into a small smile.

“i’m about to begin discussing the case,” hotch shot rowan a glare, words barbed with venom, “so listen up.”

he pinned several images on the board, bile rising in rowan’s throat as her focus transitioned to the pictures. prentiss sucked in a shaky breath, while morgan muttered a strand of incoherent sentences.

the images progressively became more grotesque as they spanned across the board. mangled, beaten, and bloodied corpses were presented, the bile approaching the back of her mouth as she realized the age range.

the bodies were children, their jugulars slashed, lacerations and bruises littering their tiny frames.

“there has been a surge of murders in the rural farm town of homer, illinois. in the past week, there have been a total of five. all of the victims were children, with no specific physical attributes,” hotch cleared his throat, “however, all of them bear one aspect in common.”

“they’re all boys,” reid murmured, “from the images it appears as if they’re about ages eleven or twelve.”

“then they are pre-pubescent boys,” rowan’s voice was clear, pairs of eyes falling on her as she spoke, “i’ve seen something like this before, when i was working in columbus. we had a ring of traffickers who preferred this age range.”

“and?” morgan arched a brow, “why pre-pubescent boys?”

“hotch,” rowan nearly trembled as the supervisor’s cold gaze shifted on her, “i-if i may ask, were there any signs of assault or rape?”

“the severity of sexual assault varied on each victim.”

“you said that they have no physical attributes in common but looking at these photos,” reid shook his head slightly, “the brunettes are the only ones who have lacerations covering their entire bodies. the blondes, the only sign of violence demonstrated is the murder itself, the incision along the jugular.”

“could it be that our unsub has something against brunettes?” morgan inquired.

“potentially,” rowan blinked, scanning over the text, “it also says here in the autospies that the only boys who were sexually assaulted were the brunettes. i may be going on a whim here, but i think our unsub is lashing out on the brunettes for a reason. it could be power, dominance, you name it. perhaps the hair color is a stressor, or was the initial stressor. he might be reliving a traumatic event from his childhood.”

rossi whistled, “look at you, rivers. already building a profile and we’ve only met for five minutes.”

“sadly i’ve seen a lot of this before,” rowan let out a sigh, rustling through papers, “it also says here that the bodies were all found at homer lake forest preserve. i have a strong premonition that our unsub is male.”

“and what makes you say that?” hotch countered.

“by the way the bodies were handled,” rowan shrugged, “they were beaten, mutilated, and dragged through the woods. the amount of physical strength to do that is just an inherent trait males have."

“how were the bodies discovered?” jj bit her lip, a trace of fear glimmering in her icy blue depths.

“they were found by a new fisherman every morning around dawn, in the same location. they were located about half a mile from the entrance of the preserve,” hotch tossed the file onto the table, “our unsub is bold.”

“he wanted the bodies to be found,” rossi added, “he’s arrogant.”

“or he’s sloppy,” rowan remarked, “he’s devolving. he could be killing just on that need burning within him, with no remorse or any sort of emotion within him at all--”

“we need to get to homer as soon as possible,” hotch interrupted, glancing at his phone, “it’s ten o’clock in the morning. it’s only a matter of time before another body is found.”

“where’s the closest airport?” jj folded her arms across her chest.

“willard airport in champaign-urbana,” reid piped up, “other than that, the other closest one is in bloomington-normal.”

“and how do you know that?” morgan’s eyes widened.

“champaign-urbana is the home of the university of illinois,” reid swallowed thickly, “i’ve been there a few times. it’s an exceptional school for engineering, truly one of the greatest in the country--”

“all right, all right,” morgan stuck out a hand, “you answered my question.”

“wheels up in thirty,” hotch announced, plucking the file off the shiny wood.

rowan followed the others in suit, filing out of the space. trailing reid, she was the second last to leave the room, hotch right behind her, deep, smooth, voice filling her ears.

“i need to speak with you agent rivers.”

“yes?” she swiveled on her heel, facing the supervisor, folding her arms across her chest.

“i hope you’re aware that i do not tolerate any sort of childlike behavior. we’re not teenagers reuniting on the first day of class. i did not appreciate the interruptions in my conference room. you can socialize on your own time.”

“you’ve never once interrupted anything in your entire life? wow, you really must be mr. perfect. i mean look at you, all put together. i doubt you’ve even done anything wrong in your life you’re so per--”

“you realize you’re speaking to your boss with this tone, right?”

“i don’t fucking care,” tears brimmed rowan’s eyes, “this is my first day and it’s even worse than i could have ever imagined.”

“excuse me?”

“you’ve really made sure i’ve had a warm welcome to the bau, mr. perfect,” rowan scoffed, rolling her eyes, “it’s been an amazing first day, i’ll tell you that.”

for just a moment, hotch’s tough exterior cracked, a flicker of sympathy flashing in his gaze, “i’m sorry.”

“‘i’m sorry’?”

hotch paused, inhaling a deep breath, “i was going to write you up. however, i may have been a little too harsh on you. after all, this is your first day. strauss put in a good word for you, and i want to see your skill set out in the field. come on, we’re going to be left behind.”

******

“gotta love the midwest,” morgan placed his hands on his hips, chest rising and falling.

“you love it?” reid’s lips curled in disgust, “it smells like manure.”

“it smells like home,” rowan giggled, shouldering her way through the men, “c’mon, let’s go.”

“well she’s eager,” rossi chuckled, turning to hotch, “where are we setting up?”

“there’s the local p.d. in homer,” hotch slung his bag over his shoulder, “the station is only about four miles from the forest preserve.”

“i was doing some reading on the village of homer,” reid stated, “there’s only about one thousand people who live there. it’s such a tiny place, and as hotch mentioned, it’s only four miles from the preserve, surely the unsub lives there.”

“or he lives close to the lake,” rowan pointed out, “there are so many homes out there surrounding the lake in the countryside. with these rural communities, your neighbors could be a mile down the road, or miles away. it gives him the perfect opportunity to make frequent trips to the lake without being noticed.”

“you make a good point rivers,” hotch remarked, “we’ll have to keep that in mind when we investigate the lake and the surrounding woods.”

“this murder isn’t going to solve itself,” rossi cleared his throat, nodding his head towards the cluster of suvs, “we need to get to the police department and we’re losing time.”

stepping into the vehicle, rowan slid into the back seats, figuring that hotch would take the wheel, while rossi would sit shotgun. yet, curiosity buzzed in her mind as rossi took the wheel, while reid settled into the passenger seat.

“you’ve got to be shitting me,” she muttered as hotch thrust open the door, “rossi, are you usually the one who drives?”

“typically, no,” in the rearview mirror, rowan snorted when she noticed the shit-eating grin plastered on the agent’s face, “but i figured that you and hotch would love to get to know one another on the way there.”

“can i pick the station?” reid bounced in the seat, hands flying to the knobs and levers.

“pick something good, find an oldies station or something. maybe they’ll play back in black,” within seconds, the suburban was in motion, rossi revving the engine, “i plan on racing morgan, jj, and prentiss to the station. whoever loses has to buy dinner.”

“this is ridiculous,” hotch rolled his eyes, the vibration of his phone piquing rowan’s curiosity.

“by the way,” reid turned in his seat, facing hotch, “who’s been calling you so frequently today?”

“haley,” rowan tilted her head as the name spat from hotch’s mouth, “it’s not important.”

haley. from the sound of it, she was hotch’s significant other, girlfriend, fiancee, even a spouse, maybe. rowan’s eyes drifted downwards to his lap, where his hands rested on his knees. in the light, a golden band gleamed on his left ring finger.

so, hotch was married. he had a wife.

but there was something in his tone that was unsettling. were they fighting? having the typical lover’s quarrel? maybe that’s why hotch was so distant and cruel, he was constantly dealing with his marriage.

“so tell us a little about you, rowan,” rossi was far ahead of the other suburban, shades resting on the bridge of his nose, “i never got an icebreaker.”

rowan scoffed, fidgeting in the leather seat, “there’s not anything too riveting, i can spare you guys the details.”

in the corner of her eye, rowan felt his eyes pierce through her, digging deeps within the confines of her psyche. he was profiling her, desperate to get some sort of read. perhaps he was well aware of how uncomfortable she was by rossi’s query. the way her palms were slick against her pants, sweat prints clinging to the fabric. the way her cheeks were tainted pink, her jaw tightened, throat dry.

“didn’t you go to ohio state for undergrad?” reid licked his thumb, scouring through some novel or book.

“yeah,” she nodded, “i’m from a tiny town in ohio, called tiffin. i went to ohio state for an undergrad in psychology, along with a few minors in criminal justice, linguistics, spanish, so on. i stayed there for grad school since i loved the city, and the university. from there, the bureau picked me up from the academy, and i was thrown into the infamous case.”

“the child sex-trafficking bust,” hotch murmured, “i remember glancing over that in your file.”

“how long did that case go on?” rossi turned the radio dial, lowering the volume.

“longer than it should’ve been,” rowan brought a hand to her temple, a dull pain seeping into her skull, “hey, does anyone have ibuprofen?”

hotch’s eyes softened, concern painting his features, “i think i have some in my briefcase. hang on.”

rowan brought a bottle of water to her lips, sipping as hotch placed a couple of pills in her open palm. as he set them in her hand, skin grazed skin, her heart skipping a beat.

for someone as rough and callused as hotch, his hands were so utterly soft.

“thank you,” she whispered, “i appreciate it.”

“of course,” he murmured, “do you usually get frequent headaches?”

“yeah,” rowan admitted, a new wave of blush spreading, “i’m just prone to them i guess.”

“the humidity is also high today,” reid remarked, “and from the way the wind just picked up, along with the darkness of the clouds, i think it’s going to storm. your headache could be from the low pressure.”

“fantastic,” rowan threw her head back, squeezing her eyes shut, “you know reid, that’s kinda a myth.”

“actually research has been inconclusive.”

“how many did you take?” hotch nudged rowan, inflections of concern within his inquisition.

“six.”

“jesus christ,” rossi’s lips pursed, “are you trying to kill your liver?”

“we’ll see about that,” a giggle bubbled up in rowan’s throat.

as the suburban sailed down the interstate, her lashes fluttered, sleep threatening to pull her into its clutches. she blinked, rubbing soothing circles onto her temple, lips falling to a frown as a dull pain seeped into her forehead.

biting her lip, she fought back tears, inhaling a shaky breath. this was no place to show any weakness.

not with him around.

*****

“good afternoon, chief sellers. i’m supervisory special agent hotchner with the fbi,” hotch stated, his voice ringing with authority as he shook an officer’s hand, “and these are my colleagues.”

“thank god you’re here,” the officer’s voice was hoarse, wavering as he spoke, “it’s been a living nightmare these past few days.”

“i can only imagine,” jj murmured under her breath, “there’s someone out there killing little boys.”

“he looks so shaken up,” prentiss exhaled, folding her arms across her chest.

“we had most of the state p.d. flock out here once the second body was discovered,” chief sellers cleared his throat, his focus directed on hotch, “we’re all doing the best we can, but of course, as other duties call, we tend to be short-handed at times.”

“we’re going to do everything in our power to help,” rossi’s words were warm, brimmed with sincerity, “we’ll catch this guy, i promise.”

“and we’ll help you all in every way we can,” chief sellers nodded curtly, “anything you folks need, let us know.”

“should we start by heading out to the crime scene?” hotch inquired, “it might also be best to split some of us up.”

“of course,” chief sellers strode over to a pair of state officers, “these men will escort you to the scene. what else do you need?”

hotch’s eyes flickered over to his team, “i want morgan, reid, and rossi to go investigate the scene. prentiss and jj, would you speak with some of the locals? we need to gather as much information as possible in order to rule out anyone or gain essential details about our unsub.”

“what about me?” rowan coughed.

“you’re staying with me here at the station,” he commanded, “and you’re going to answer every phone call we get from garcia.”

“good luck newbie,” rowan rolled her eyes as morgan teased her, his breath hot against her ear.

“you might want to listen to morgan,” rossi shot her a wink, “you’re going to need it.”

“thanks,” the reply was a deadpan, the agent’s shoulders slumping as hotch approached her, “putting me on a short leash, are we?”

“you’re the one who understands the profile of our unsub the best,” he retorted, “and before you fire back with another verbal assault, think before you speak. this is your big girl job now. act like it.”

“don’t you think it’s interesting that the unsub stopped killing?” hotch murmured a few words of gratitude to an officer who handed him a coffee, cocking his head as he took a sip.

“do you think that there’s a reason behind that?”

“possibly,” rowan shrugged, denying the same styrofoam cup, “hey, where’s the closest gas station?”

“about half a mile away,” the officer replied coolly, “would you like a ride? a few of the guys and i are going to pick up pizzas for lunch.”

“i’m okay,” she paused, running a hand through her hair, “thank you, though.’

“you don’t like hot coffee?”

“i prefer iced,” the agent muttered, surveying the empty desks, “i assume they cleared some space for us?”

“indeed,” hotch huffed, “if your phone rings, assume it’s garcia.”

“i feel like i’m at columbus p.d. all over again,” the brunette slid into the seat, rolling a few inches as she plucked the file out of her briefcase.

“well this is nowhere near that,” hotch rolled his eyes, leaning against the wooden surface.

“well it sure feels like it,” his throat tightened as her eyes drifted upwards, locking with his, “it sure fucking feels like it. now, if you don’t mind, i’m going to look over the file.”

“would you like some company, agent rivers?”

“i’m sure you have ‘unit chief’ matters to tend to,” the words were barbed, hot and venomous as she spat them out, “hovering around your new recruit like she’s some child is quite ridiculous don’t you think?”

“i should have you turn in your badge right now.”

“you seem like you’re all bark and no bite. you scolded me only only hours ago about the conference room, threatening to write me up. that tough exterior of yours is only an act. or at least, i think it is. you’re not going to write me up until you have a valid reason to. also, like you claimed earlier, ‘strauss put in a good word for me.’ i know you won’t terminate me. plus, you just went through all of that paperwork to get me here. do you really want to go through all of that again?”

“you piss me off.”

“good,” she puckered her lips, “maybe you should chat about that with strauss hmm? she’d probably just tell you to suck it up and that i’m here to stay.”

hotch’s jaw clenched, prepared to retaliate, yet the vibration in his pocket distracted him momentarily, the shrill ringtone piercing through the air, “yes?”

biting her tongue, rowan glanced back at the file, bringing her hand to her cheek. part of her was wailing, screaming and kicking, fighting the urge to study those horrid images. but the other part was driven, adrenaline coursing through her veins, pumping into her body.

even the slightest detail that she hadn’t noticed initially would be immensely helpful to building the profile, piecing together who this deranged individual was. flipping through the photos, rowan’s eyes narrowed.

although the team held a short briefing before departing from headquarters, there was one minor aspect about the way the bodies were laying in the shrubbery. the boys were all on their backs, dried blood coating sliced flesh. not a single article of clothing framed their bodies, just the thin layer of briefs or boxers.

her heart lurched as one arm was pressed tightly against their sides, while the other was raised. right hands pointed upwards, three fingers: the index, middle, and ring. yet, the pinky connected with the thumb, almost as if the children were purposely holding up three fingers.

“garcia called with an update,” his voice floated into her ears, “with the bits and pieces fed to her from jj and prentiss, we still have a lot of ground to cover. are you up for a drive?”

“wait,” rowan held up a hand, “hotch, were you ever a member of the boy scouts?”

his brow furrowed, confusion settling across his features, “what?”

“just look,” she huffed, gesturing to the images, “look at the way the unsub left their bodies. it’s a clear message, almost like how he dumped the bodies in clear sight. his arrogance blinded him, goading him to taunt us. but little did he know i would see right through his bluff. i think he stopped the killing spree because he knew we’d be looking for him. it’s like he wants us to find him.”

leaning over, hotch’s chest hovered above her shoulder blade, a hand settling on the desk. the ghost of his badge hung over her cheek, a speck of white in her peripheral vision. a hum rose in his throat, “you’re onto something here. let me call garcia.”

“did i make a break in the case?”

“perhaps, but don’t let that get to your head,” the supervisor brought his phone to his ear, “hey, garcia, i need you to run something for me. how many boy scout troops are in champaign county?”

*****

“you up for some drinks tonight?” prentiss giggled, wrapping her jacket around her shoulders, “it’s all on me, especially since we should be celebrating your first case with the bau!”

“i’m fine,but thank you,” rowan beamed, “i still have a forty minute drive ahead of me. i shouldn’t stay out too late.”

“oh come on,” jj groaned, “we won’t be out for long. just a couple rounds.”

“pleaseeee?” garcia practically pranced over to rowan, jutting her bottom lip out, “we don’t know a single thing about you. hotch had you under his watch all day.”

“okay,” she exhaled, “a few drinks, and then i need to get to my apartment. i’ve barely finished unpacking so i’ll have to rummage for my towels and pajamas when i get back.”

“you have an apartment?” prentiss queried, “do you have a roommate or do you live alone? did you bring a boyfriend with you, by chance?”

rowan blinked, “uh, no. i live alone.”

“good thing you’re a fbi agent huh?” garcia winked, “c’mon, we know the perfect bar.”

“maybe we’ll get you loosened up and you can spill some secrets,” jj chuckled, the sound airy and light.

“sometimes,” rowan felt the corner of her lips tug into a wide grin, “sometimes i truly wonder what i’m getting myself into working with all these other profilers.”

*****

{feel free to ask for a tag or let me know what you think! :))}

tagging: @tempus-ut-luceant @daffodin @kleinbluu @inlovewithaaronhotchner @spencerreidsbitch @art-and-thoughts @criminallminds @ethade3

[shadow--writer]

She Lives in Daydreams With me

Song title. 

Maeve x Lucas. Let’s try this again, from the top. 3.7k

TW: none!

@dela-png​

She didn’t know why she decided to walk to the beach to read. She had a perfectly good nook in her house by the windows. Perfect for reading with a little tea. Unbothered. By herself. No risk of seeing Lucas. 

But nooo she was walking to the beach. To read. Because she totally didn’t have other motives or hopes. Not her, no sir. She was only going out to get fresh air and read a little on the beach far away from the docks and any prying eyes. 

Wasn’t going to see if she could make amends with a certain someone. 

Absolutely not. 

The sun was hidden by dark clouds, and the smell of saltwater and fish overpowered the smell of rain.

She felt herself light up a little at the prospect of rain. It was always a nice change of pace from how hot it got in Vesuvia. 

Pausing her walk at the edge of the beach, she looked up at the sky once more. Though she hoped it would start later. She didn’t plan on getting rained on while she read on the beach. 

Chewing on her lower lip she lowered her gaze, picking up her skirt with her book in her hands. The sound of laughter filled the air, making her turn to locate the sound. 

Lucas. 

She flinched away. Oh no. No. He was here (of course he was, idiot, he worked here). 

The laughter paused, she peeked over through her lashes. She and Lucas locked eyes. 

They stared at one another for a moment before she quickly turned away, and started walking down the beach at a brisk pace. 

Her heels sunk into the soft surf as she walked, nose buried in her book. 

Oh no no no no-

“So, what are you doing here?” someone asked, making her jump. 

“I-Isn’t it obvious?” she replied (curse her stuttering), not looking up from her book. She knew his voice. “I’m reading. Peacefully. Not bothering anyone. On the beach since I need fresh air.”

He kept her pace, she didn’t bother looking up at him. Sure she was mad at him for taking her words out of context, and he was still mad at her for breaking things off. And of course Amani was pissed at the both of them. And this was turning into a real mess. 

Granted she wasn’t really mad. She was just annoyed. She didn’t have any right to be mad at him. 

She just wondered if she waited too long to say that.

“Why the beach of all places? You knew I’d be here. Did you just want to see me?” He poked her side. She swatted his hand away with her book, shooting him an unimpressed glare. 

“Am I not allowed to come to the beach for some quality time alone?” she asked with a tiny huff and an eye roll. “It’s going to rain soon anyways, I thought I’d come out here before it did.”

His face fell. “Rain?” His tone made it very clear he was not happy about it. 

“The rain is lovely!”

“Well maybe I don’t like it!”

“Well, we’re going to disagree on this one.”

“We’re going to disagree on a lot of things.”

Her back straightened a little. That sounded almost like a promise. Some little part of her hoped it was. 

“This is one battle you aren’t gonna win,” she said, tucking her book under her arm so she could look up at him. “The rain is wonderful. You clearly haven’t gone exploring in it. Or done anything fun.”

He made a face. “It’s dreary, lazy and makes everything seem sad.”

“Mmm but have you ever danced with someone in it? Played in the mud? Just stare up at the clouds and let it wash over your face?”

“What fantasy are you living in? The rain is sad weather. You can’t go out and do anything. You’re stuck at home with whatever thoughts you have.”

“And I thought you were the fun one,” she said, pushing back her hair a little. “But you just sound like a downer.”

“Downers don’t get sick from playing around in the rain.”

“But downers don’t get to really live.”

He paused. “You aren’t going to change my mind on this one. The rain keeps people cooped up. Sometimes it lasts for a long time. It’s miserable.”

“You clearly haven’t spent the day with someone you loved then. Rainy days are much better with people you love.” She smiled a little at the thought of her dad tackling her into the mud and then sliding down a hill. They gave her aunt a fright when they came home like that. 

“Are...rainy days better?”

“Yes. Very much so.” She turned to look out at the water, spotting a nice place to sit. She would get sand in her dress but she really didn’t care. Some sand flew up around her skirt when she sat down. 

“The view is lovely without the sun,” he offered. 

She let out a tiny sigh from where she sat. “Aren’t you mad at me?”

He stared at her in disbelief. “Mad? No. More like annoyed. What gave you the idea I was mad?”

Well...annoyed was better than mad at least. She winced, she did reject his attempt at a kiss. That had come back to bite her many times. She turned away from him. “Uh huh. Don’t you have work to do?”

He sat in the sand beside her. “Nope! Taking my break early.” He looked at her. “Hm, feels like you’re trying to get rid of me. Ouch.”

She let out a tiny chuff, crossing her legs and resting her elbow on her right knee (furthest away from him). She rested her cheek on her fist, the skin squishing a bit. “Hmph, what if I am?” She looked at him from the corner of her eye. 

He scooted closer to her, sitting in the same way but with a smile. “Well then I’ll just keep bothering you.”

She looked away again. “What if I ignore you until you have to go back to work?”

“I’ll just keep bugging you until you talk to me.”

She let out a tiny huff. “If you’re on break why are you spending it with me?”

He imitated her huff with a little grin. “Well maybe I missed you.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Maybe I missed you too.” He flicked the tip of her nose gently, she wrinkled it at the touch, making him crack a tiny smile. 

As annoyed with him as she was in that moment, she could admit she did miss him.

She wondered if Amani talked to him about what happened. 

Letting out a tiny sigh, she gave into him. She leaned into his shoulder, him leaning back. They sat there, looking at the water, pressed against one another in a small silence. It sent her heart racing a little, with heat rising to her face in a comfortable way. 

Okay yeah, maybe she missed him way more than she thought she did. 

“So...did you read the book I gave you?” he asked softly, shifting his hand over to cover hers. Her heart startled, body warming even more at the touch. It was a weird feeling, like she was cold but hot at the same time. 

“Thumbelina?”

“Mmhmm.” 

“I did.”

“Well?”

She smiled to herself. “I did enjoy it.” She looked at him, resting her chin on his shoulder. “You gave me an ugly nickname?”

His face reddened. “Look, I thought it was pretty.”

She raised her voice in pitch. “‘You shall not be called Thumbelina!’ said the spirit of the flower to her. ‘That is an ugly name, and you are much too pretty for that,” she quoted back to him. “Ugly name.”

He made a face at her, she made one back. 

“...so you just have that memorized?”

She felt her cheeks warm. “I um. I...read it?”

“You can memorize things from reading it once?!”

“N-No.”

“Then how?”

“I read it...a lot,” she muttered, turning to look away from him again. Her hair fell in a curtain around her face, disguising her red cheeks. Fine she’d admit to herself. She read it because of him. She would’ve never picked it up otherwise.

“T-Though the ending was a bit strange. It was so...happy.”

“...what’s wrong with a happy ending?”

“Sometimes they aren’t realistic.”

“...it’s a fairy tale. What fairy tales are you reading?”

“I haven’t read one since I was a kid. Why do you like fairy tales so much anyways?” she asked, staring out at the water. Anything to not meet his eyes while she fought her blush. 

She could feel him staring at her, and then he let out a little sigh. His hand was still clasped over hers. “It’s what we grew up listening to. I like them a lot because of my mom. Sometimes my aunts would read them to us, that is, if they didn’t pick fights on politics before bed.”

“Mmm, that's fun.”

“What? You didn’t get stuff read to you? Any fairy tales you like?” He prodded her side gently. She let out a tiny squeak, trying to swat him away.

“Well there’s one my momma would read to us.”

“Is it good?”

She smiled with a tiny hum. “The best.”

He pretended to settle down, she turned her head slightly to look at him again. 

He nodded at her with a smile. It made the corners of his eyes crinkle. Each of his smiles was a bit different, this one had a childlike wonder to it. “Well then, you have the stage.” 

“It’s called Tír na nÓg.”

He blinked. “Uh. Sorry I’m not familiar in uh…”

“Gaelic?” she said with an affectionate smile. The awkwardness of their situation was slowly melting away. “Most aren’t. It means uh...Land of the…” she pursed her lips. Gods what was that word? She snapped her fingers, trying to think. “Opposite of old. It’s not youth uhhh…”

“...young?”

She snapped again, grinning. “Yeah! Land of the Young. Tír na nÓg, land of the young. One of our oldest tales.”

“How does it go?”

“The most famous tale with Tír na nÓg is the story of Oisín and Niamh. Oisín was out hunting with his father when they saw something in the ocean. They feared invasion so they prepared but came to find the most beautiful woman emerge from the sea. Her name was Niamh, a fairy from the famed lands of Tír na nÓg. She was the daughter of the sea god.”

Lucas was a bit bouncy with excitement beside her, watching her intensely. She blushed, turning away. She was so very not used to the excitement. 

“T-The men were afraid of her due to her great powers. But Oisín introduced himself and they fell in love.” Her eyes softened a little as she relaxed. Her mom got so animated when she told this one. “Niamh was bound to go home, but she invited the great warrior to come with her to Tír na nÓg. No mortals could enter the fairy realm unless invited, so he bid farewell to his family and warriors and went with her.”

“Oisín was offered the wealth of treasures from Tír na nÓg. Eternal youth, everlasting beauty, health and happiness with his true love. But time came when he missed his family. Niamh gave him her horse but warned him he must not touch mortal ground or he would become mortal again and never be able to return to her.”

Lucas was starting to look...well not less interested, but a little more concerned. She liked how easy it was to read him. He was like an open book, and she wanted to read more on those pages. 

He was...a story she didn’t understand but wanted to. She always thought eyes were the windows to the soul, just like the old saying. You could tell a lot about someone based on their eyes and the way he was looking at her now sent the butterflies fluttering.

She pursed her lips to keep from stuttering again. “When he came home, he could not find his family nor his fellow warriors. Everyone had simply vanished. Eventually, he came across three men and asked where they had all gone. The three men said the same thing. His family was long since dead. Time moved much slower in Tír na nÓg, and realizing this Oisín fell to the ground in despair, immediately turning into an old man. He died later of a broken heart, never seeing Niamh or his family again.”

Lucas stopped moving and was dead silent for a moment.

Then another. 

“...that’s it?”

“Uh yeah! My mom would tell that one to us a lot.”

His words were slow as he thought them over, a frown pulling at his mouth. “Did she...ever tell you other stories? Ones with happier endings?”

“Well there was the one about Changelings. Fairies would come into homes, steal babies and replace them with something that almost was exactly like the baby but something was usually off. It usually was the eyes or teeth. They had sharp teeth. I think one she told us was how when the parents found out about the changeling it tore them to pieces. She usually told that one to get us to behave though…so no?”

He shifted closer to her, letting go of her hand to rest his hand behind her back. She missed his touch almost immediately. “How about I tell a story instead?”

She feigned offense. “What, mine not good enough?”

“No! No it was great but um...how about something without someone falling over and dying?”

She giggled. “So no stories without happy endings?”

“Life is unhappy enough,” he said with a lopsided smile. “Why should fiction be the same?”

She let out a tiny hum, resting her head on his shoulder. “Fair enough. Do go on, my good sir.”

He dramatically cleared his throat. “Once upon a time.”

“Oh wow that’s unique.”

He poked her side, making her let out a tiny squeak. “I’m telling the story,” he joked, arm going around her waist, tapping lightly on her hip. 

“Once upon a time, there lived a masked princess. She lived up high in her ivory tower, and was content with living her life alone all up high. The princess wore a mask of purple and blue, the only thing it revealed were her eyes. They were a brilliant dark blue that reflected everything she was looking at. Like mirrors. Usually they reflected a book or the stars at night.”

She chewed on her lower lip as she listened. He was a good storyteller, it came with hearing so many as a child she guessed. 

“Once upon a time there lived a knight,” he continued on. “The knight came from a proud family as well, growing up hearing stories about the masked princess in the ivory tower. The knight grew up to be a very threatening man, with a full suit of armour.”

“But he had a big heart and defended the people he loved?” she asked softly, making him jolt beside her. 

“Y-Yes,” he stuttered, not meeting her eyes as she looked up at him. He cleared his throat again, the sound more nervous this time. The tips of his ears were red. “The knight traveled far and wide to find the masked princess, for he wanted to be her protector. He had heard stories of the princess and people trying to get to her tower. But when he found the princess he was surprised to find she was in no need, or want, to be rescued or protected by the knight.”

“How rude,” she joked, making him laugh. 

“He called up to the masked lady, asking what he could possibly do to be able to protect her. He was willing to try anything. She said she wanted to be able to take her mask off around her knights, so she sent him on trials to prove himself. He did things he hadn’t done in years, shedding the armour he wore to protect himself along the way.”

“What kind of trials?”

“Stuff that made him let his guard down. Once he even stood outside her tower and just talked to her, opening up like he never had. But once he had shed all the armour weighing him down, he climbed the tower to see the princess face to face, only wearing his helmet. Seeing her up close shocked the knight for even masked, she was the loveliest thing he had seen. The legends had failed to share about her beauty.”

“Her hair was pure silver, falling over her shoulders and back. Her eyes, just like the stories said, were like blue mirrors. His final trial was just like the one on the other side of the tower, but this time he was light enough to come up to visit her. He visited her every day when he could, bringing her little gifts from his journey there. She in return shared with him her little secrets.”

“One day, he climbed the tower and the masked princess wasn’t there. The room was a mess, her bed ruined and her things thrown about. He left, panicked about the lady he was training to protect. He worried about failing her before even passing his trials. For weeks he searched for her, but he did not find her.”

His voice was a bit heavy as he spoke. He stumbled over some of his words and paused around others. 

“Then one day he did find her. All alone in the forest, dress torn and mask broken at her feet. She had been taken in the night, but the princess was a great warrior and defeated them. She was just avoiding the knight since she did not have her mask, and was scared of being vulnerable with him like he had been with her.”

“Did he take off his helmet when he saw her?” she asked, fiddling with her skirt. She was terrible to tell stories to. Asking too many questions instead of listening.

But he didn’t seem to mind. 

He nodded. “In the time separated from her the knight realized he had fallen in love with the masked princess. He just didn’t know it until she was gone. So he took off his helmet, the final piece of armour he had to shed, and asked her to come with him. Away from the forest. Away from her tower.”

“And?”

“Well, she did say yes. Eventually.” Maeve snorted. “The knight was very persuasive.”

“Oh I’m sure.”

“But he took her home with him, away from the thieves, and her isolation.”

“And they lived happily ever after?”

He laughed. “Well, something like that.”

“So did someone read that to you? Can’t say I’ve heard of it.”

His cheeks grew rosy. “My uh...mom read it to me.” 

He was lying. 

His voice got reedier when he lied. 

But why was he even lying?

There was a lull of silence. “Look...Thumbelina.” She stiffened at the nickname, looking back over at him. He let go of her waist. “I’m...sorry for getting so mad at you over the whole language misunderstanding.”

“Did Amani talk to you?”

His neck flushed as he rubbed the bandages on his hands. “...yeah. Says she talked to you too.”

“Did she...say what we talked about?”

“Nothing much. Just told me we should apologize to one another. So I thought...if I saw you at the beach it would be a good time to talk. Didn’t realize I’d see you so soon after making that promise to myself.”

“I’m sorry for trying to...well distance myself. I don’t…” She pursed her lips, looking away from him. Her voice was breathy and soft. “I’m sorry.”

“Can I...get a reason why?” 

“You got...close. And it scared me.”

“Was I too much?”

Her head snapped up. “No, no! You were fine. I was the problem.”

“I know...Gaelic is used for more than insults, I’m sorry for…”

“Jumping off a cliff to a conclusion?”

He snorted, bumping their shoulders together. “Yeah.”

She stared up at the clouds. “You’ll...come to see me again, right?”

“I want to. Do you want me to?”

“...yes. Please.” Her voice was soft even to her ears. “I would...really like to keep seeing you.”

“Then why’d you stop?”

She looked away from him, drawing in the sand with a finger. “Story for another time.”

His eyes widened in understanding. “Ah, I see. That’s okay. I’m...glad you’re talking to me again. I um...wasn’t lying when I said I missed you.”

“Me neither.”

“Amani was right,” he said with a chuckle. “We’re uhh...”

“Hopeless?”

“Exactly.”

They both looked up. “It’s going to rain soon. You can smell it,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

She opened them as she looked back at him. He seemed deep in thought. “I should get home before it starts pouring.” She got to her feet, rocking back onto her heels as she dusted some of the sand off her skirt. 

He made a face. “Yeah and I’ll be stuck in it. Working.”

She smiled. “Aww that’s too bad. Not my fault you took a job working outside by the ocean.”

He made a face, making her giggle. “I probably won’t work in the days after. Not much we can do in the rain unless we’re on boats. So, spend the day with me maybe? Without all the hostility and depressingly grim fairy tales?”

“As...friends?” she asked, holding out a hand to help him up. 

There was a flare of emotions in his eyes. Different ones. She couldn’t place them. 

“Yeah.” He almost sounded disappointed, but he covered it with a smile. He took her hand, she helped him stand. Not that he needed much help. He didn’t let go of her hand for a moment, the bandages around his palms soft against her skin. They must’ve been new. 

He let his hand drop, and offered her another smile. Lopsided. Made her heart flop in weird ways. Friends, Maeve. Friends. “As friends.”

Only as friends. 

That was more than she could’ve hoped for.

But she was glad all the same. 

[we-always-hit-our-ass]

I just read your fluffy headcannons with Toye and they are p e r f e c t. Made me realise how much I needed this and I was hoping if you could do one with Ron Speirs. 😔✊

anon, im incredibly happy that you think my Toye hcs were perfect- i also totally get you, anon. we all need some soft speirs hcs in our lives and i will do exactly that! 😩👌💞💕

btw im incredibly sorry that i took so long to write these hcs but hopefully you enjoy them!

Taglist: @floydtab, @deldontplay, @thatsonefishyboi, @noneofurbusinez, @meteora-fc, @hufflepuffpancakes​, @hihosilvers​, @rayleighshughes

shoutout to my wifey @floydtab for helping me on these hcs, this probably wouldn’t have existed without you- you gave me so much inspo i love you ma’am 💞💕

Fluffy/General Ronald Speirs HCs

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Let’s get one thing clear here- Ron is a cold bitch but is ACTUALLY a big softie.

Only for you anyway, but no one else except you two need to know that-

Like Ron will subtly do things to impress you, and you’re just like, 'You dont have to do that I love you too fucking much already, stop tryna make me fall for you again-'

But you always appreciate it anyways because you know that this boy just wants the best for you-

Ron is straightforward and makes it his daily goal to make you happy-

If you’ve had a bad day, Ron will literally go and get your favorite food/drink/thing to immediately make you feel better, and it works 100% of the time.

Aaah- This man lowkey cares a lot in the relationship and he’s just but a bit worried and is self conscious.

But you just tell him that he's enough and that you'll love him no matter what.

After that he'll just immediately hug you and you would press kisses on his jawline while softly rubbing his back to reassure him that you’re there.

Soft declarations of love are always said and done between the two of you and you knew that you couldn’t live without it.

It was practically essential at this point and you’d never ever get tired of Ron saying ‘I love you’.

Ron is also very protective of you but he’s embarrassed to admit it.

The amount of times he almost yeeted someone because they either made you mad/uncomfortable have been endless.

Like they better HOPE that Speirs doesn’t find their address-

Ron isn’t really big on PDA but he will not hesitate to wrap an arm around your waist, and even sometimes he’ll sit you on his lap while he nuzzles his face on the side of your neck.

It’s just a personal preference of Ron’s and he just doesn’t want people to exactly see something that is intimate, you feel?

Even though he prefers to keep your relationship private, he would always softly call you endearing terms in your ear in public.

He prefers to love you in private, and he thinks that it feels more special that way.

Ron acts the complete opposite when you two are alone or behind closed doors. He’s extremely passionate and every single touch light yet intense.

Ron cannot keep his hands off you and he cherishes every moment he shares with you. 

He just loves the fact that you feel so right in his hold, like you two were always meant to be.

He loves everything about you and wouldn’t change a single thing about yourself, I promise you that.

Ron is also a MAJOR worrywart, like if he even heard you whisper ‘ow’, you better bet that he’s going to ZOOM his ass to you.

He also doesn’t express his worries verbally- oh no- his actions speak for him. He’ll hold you in his arms and will ACTUALLY kiss the area where you hurt yourself.

Ron just wants you to be alright and will fret over you even if it’s just a papercut.

Ron is also very discreet about your relationship and God forbid anyone from seeing him being soft towards you. (And God help them even more if they decide to bring it up.)

Ron constantly thinks how amazing you are while you’re right next to him with your hands in his.

He’s always extremely happy around you and he absolutely loves playing with your hair and it’s so cute.

Soft forehead kisses for this man are a must and he can’t help but smile when you press your lips softly against his skin.

Ron is definitely an athletic man and he adores swimming.

There have been countless times where Ron would take you to a lake just so he can swim with you.

When you’re done changing Ron will scoop you up and just straight up jump into the water.

Cue the WHOLESOME AS FUCK experience, thank you very much.

It’s always serene and the air is always filled with laughs as you and Ron splash each other endlessly.

Kisses are always pressed against your wet cheek whenever you two go swimming 

You’d also cradle his face in your hands as you’d stare lovingly into his eyes.

But you’d always finish swimming before him though and you’d admire him as he’d do laps.

Like Ron’s so beautiful, look at that man, he’s so fucking out of this world- 

He might or might not have been trying to impress you by doing laps, but that's a secret we'll never know-

When you’re finally dry, Ron comes up behind you as he just got out of the water and hugs you, causing you to be wet all over again.

Ron also has a special spot in his heart that is reserved for playgrounds. Like when he’s walking with you and he spots one his eyes LIGHT up and you don’t need words to tell what he was thinking.

Ron loves pushing you on the swings and your laugh and smile just keep him GOIN-

He’ll also wrap his arms around your waist as he’s behind you when you’re sliding on the slides-

The childlike wonder in Ron comes out whenever he sees a playground and that’s one of Ron’s many quirks that you loved-

Like literally the main reason he likes going to playgrounds more now is so he can just see your joyful expressions and sweet laugh-

Okokok, Ron Speirs might seem like a cat, but please believe me when I say that he adores dogs!

You could see the absolute love in his eyes when he sees Trigger and you just had the most perfect idea on what to get him for Christmas.

You fell in love with a little Bernese Mountain Dog puppy (please, please, please search them up- they’re adorable) and your plan was set in motion.

You immediately knew that Ron would love him too.

The lil pup was a pure fluffball of sunshine and this boy was bound to bring lots of joy during the holidays-

BUT HOLY SHIT YOU DID NOT EXPECT YOUR BOYFRIEND’S REACTION TO BE SO CUTE WTF-

When you presented the tiny bundle of fluff to Ron, you could see waves of euphoria emitting off of him-

You knew that Ron was already a man of a few words but he was just rendered speechless (in a good way, of course) when his eyes laid upon the Bernese puppy.

“Milo.”

“Ron- What?”

“His name is going to be Milo.”

You have caught Ron multiple times with Milo on his lap and it’s fucking adorable.

Ron would also fall asleep with Milo in his arms and you swore you were going to take a picture of that and frame it-

Milo’s energetic and bouncy personality somehow complimented Ron’s steady and calm one.

 It’s a beautiful dynamic and it just works in the best way possible.

Okokok I’ve rambled enough, but have I mentioned how caring and amazing Ron is? Yeah? Well screw it, here’s more-

Ron is a little spoon half of the time but he’ll never admit it like the stubborn cutie that he is-

You love holding him in your arms and he loves it all the same too!

But Ron is such a good fucking boyfriend, it’s making me ascend-

When you’d fall asleep in your desk while doing work, Ron would ALWAYS carry you back to your shared bedroom and lay you down gently on the bed.

Ron will get on the bed and he’d be the big spoon as he’d crawl into bed with you. 

But then you’d turn to face him in your sleep and you’d instinctively pull him closer and your cheek would be resting on chest 

Oml- I can’t the scene is too goddamn wholesome-

Buuuut if you fall asleep on the couch, Ron would bring a nice fluffy blanket to cover you and he’d sit next to you and he’d fall asleep while making sure you were ok-

You never liked waking up or mornings before, but mornings with Ron? Oh yeah, you were DOWN for that-

Ron’s fluffy tousled hair in the morning is GOLDEN and when you’d push it back to reveal his sleepy but hella handsome face, it’s fucking over I swear-

Ron also feels the same when he wakes up next to you and he genuinely thinks that it’s like waking up to an angel-

But Ron’s husky voice when he wakes up is 😩👌💕, is there anymore to say???

You’d two would just stay in bed cuddling with Milo by your side during the few hours of the morning and you couldn’t ask for anything better.

Ron was known and cemented as a hardened, scary, and stern soldier, but you didn’t mind one bit. 

Because to you... Ron was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to your life, and you couldn’t care less as to what other people thought of him. 💞

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oooooh i’m probably deceased by now, so boo- but the afterlife can wait im proud of writing these hcs!

i hope you enjoyed these hcs lovely anon and i also hope that it was good enough!

but thank you for reading, everybody, i appreciate it so much- 💞💞😩

[kyber-kisses]

She Burns

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: cursing. . . Maybe? It’s pretty much fluff.

Summary: Dean remembers being 16 years old and meeting the reader, and how she changed his life and became his first love. . . His only love.

A/N: got this idea from the song She Burns by Foy Vance. I highly recommend listening to the song before reading, but of course you don’t have to. Please enjoy this sweet childlike innocence! (GIF credit goes to owners)

Dean didn’t know exactly what sparked the memory. Maybe it was the whiskey burning through his system- or maybe it was your laughter echoing down the hallway of the bunker. All he knew was that one moment he was living in the moment, buried in the usual research and the next? He was drowning in a sea of memories.

One specific memory was the day he had met you, all those many years ago. Long before heaven and hell were normal conversation topics and before everyone was decorated with scars, showing a long and tiring life.

Your parents had been Bobby’s neighbors. The only other hunters besides the old drunk residing in Sioux Falls. Bobby had never told him about you until one day you just causally came waltzing through his front door, waving an old tattered book around and successfully knocking one Dean Winchester off his feet.

“Bobby, I’m here to bring that book back that my dad borrowed for that Rugaru hunt!” You called, stepping into the front entrance and shutting the door firmly behind you. You paused, waiting for an answer- only to be met with silence. “Bobby!”

“He’s around here somewhere. Don’t know where specially.” A sudden voice echoed from around the corner, the sound slightly making you jump before venturing forward.

When you stepped into the front room you definitely weren’t expecting what you saw. A boy probably about your age was seated on the couch, hands bound in cuffs. Your face almost immediately turning up in confusion. The boy raised a hand, waving his fingers in your direction, sealing it with an amused smirk.

There was a pause before you opened your mouth again, calling over your shoulder. “Bobby, why is there a handcuffed teenager on your couch?”

“Cause this idjit kept poking around where he shouldn’t be.” The old hunter sighed, finally stepping into the room to join you, taking the book you passed him.

You bit down on your tongue, trying to suppress your laugh along with your grin. Even you knew that it was a bad idea to go snooping around in Bobby’s house. ”so you handcuffed him?”

“Well unlike you, I can’t drag him over to your spitfire of a mother for a scolding. So yeah, I handcuffed him.”

At this point you had to purse your lips in hopes of hiding your smile, but the boy caught on, narrowing his eyes at you. “It’s not funny.”

Dropping the mask, you grinned, letting out a light laugh as you spoke. “It kinda is though.”

“It’s really not.”

“Oh but it is.”

The boy rolled his eyes, shoulder dropping as he gestured to you, eyes now on Bobby. “Bobby , who is this chick?”

“Dean, This is Y/N, her parents are my neighbors. Also damn good hunters it turns out. She sometimes comes around to help out around here.” The hunter explained, throwing the returned book onto his desk.

Dean turned his gaze back to you in which you acknowledged him by mimicking his fingered wave, a cocky smirk resting on your features.

Dean knew in that moment that you weren’t going to be like other girls. And he was more than okay with that.

The day after that first meeting, Dean was surprised by your reappearance. He quickly found out that you’re pretty handy when it comes to cars and that you knew how to kill almost anything that went bump in the night. He wasn’t the type to make friends so quickly. . . Let alone make friends at all, yet there you were, turning his whole world upside down. Usually when dropped off at Bobby’s he would happily go with his dad when he came back for him, but after meeting you, Dean found it harder to walk away.

She is a little explosion of hope

Never turns the lights down low

She can go there if you want to though

There are no markings on her country roads

No signs that show the way back home

But when you get there, you won't wanna go

It was around a year later that Dean realized (with slight surprise.) that he may or may not have developed a a slight crush on the vibrant and crazy girl that was Y/N Y/L/N. Seeing that their dad wouldn’t be back for a few more days, you had dragged Sam and Dean away from Bobby’s for a few hours along with a box of fireworks your dad had gotten for you while in Indiana.

“Dean, I’m tellin you, this is gonna be fricken awesome. Do you really have so little faith in me?” You quipped, sitting crisscross on the floor of your garage, surrounded by firecrackers. Hand reaching out for the bouncy ball Sam had passed you.

“Do you know how badly this could backfire?” He grinned, folding his arms as he leaned on your dads old work bench, watching you drill a hole into the rubber ball.

“Uh duh. Why do you think I came up with it?” You paused, reaching forward for a firecracker. “Plus, Sam thinks it’s a cool idea too.”

“C’mon Dean, we never get to have fun on Fourth of July. Please?” Sam begged, giving his brother his famous doe eyes and smiling when Deans shoulder sagged in defeat.

“Fine, but we do not speak about this to dad. Ever. You got that?”

“Got it.”

It turned out to be one of the best nights of his life. Sam was happy. His dad wasn't breathing down his neck for once. He got to act his age. . . And he owed it all to you and your firecracker filled bouncy balls that had the three of you roaring with laughter as you ricocheted them around your garage, the suspense of not knowing where it would explode giving him a new sort of adrenaline. One that wasn’t fueled by monsters. Somehow you were managing to give Dean his childhood in handfuls. . . Along with Sams. And he was grateful.

I've frozen over my desires

Covered up in virgin snow

But when I stand beside her

She burns, yeah, she burns

Like petrol soaked paper and fireworks

And I'm burning, I'm burning

I'm burning so deep that just breathing hurts

I'm melting darling and I can't let go

His damn crush on you stuck like glue. He tried to shake it off. He tried telling himself he only liked you as a friend, but each and every time you would come sauntering back in and derail his entire thought process. It was especially hard during the times when you stayed at Bobby’s while your parents were hunting.

“This is gonna be so much fun! It’s gonna be like a sleepover!” You exclaimed, shifting to drape an old blanket over your shoulders, which semi protected your body from the cool of the living room due to your only pajamas being sleep shorts and an old novelty t-shirt.

It was nearly 9:00 at night and somehow you were still full of energy. Dean had no clue as to where you got it. “What are you, twelve?” He mused, a grin taking over his face as he watched you.

You swiveled your head, sending him a glare over your shoulder. “What are you, boring?”

“Woah hey, I am not boring!”

You raised an eyebrow, looking over at Sam who was perched on the other end of the couch. “Hey Sam, is your brother boring?”

“Yeah. He’s totally boring.” He stated clearly. There was no pause before his answer nor did he even glance up from his comic, the younger Winchester just quick to side with you.

“See?” You gestured at Dean. “Boring.”

“You’re delusional.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned back to fiddle with the dials on Bobby’s old radio, quick to find a station that actually played good music. You kept it at a reasonable volume as not to disturb Bobby who was undoubtedly working away in his study. It was only when you gave Dean your devilish grin that he knew what you were about to do.

Slightly bouncing your shoulders to the tune you held out your hands for him, raising your eyebrows.

“No. No. I am not dancing with you. Nice try though.” He laughed, seeing you roll your eyes before dancing closer to him, yanking him to his feet.

“Oh come on, I’m a great dancer.” You mused, pulling him along with you as you danced.

“I don’t think any of what you’re doing would be considered dance moves.”

Even though the whole scenario was embarrassing he was grateful that it wasn’t a slow song playing because then he really would have been a stumbling and blushing mess. It was when you started dramatically singing along to the song that he realized one very crucial thing.

All he wanted to do was kiss you.

She likes to lay under the covers, oh

Pretend that everywhere's our home

Keeps me warm right to my very soul

We get so tangled up, it's hard to know

What is hers and what my own

Vines at the bottom of an olive grove

It was only when your dad and his decided to work a job together that anything happened. Sam had stayed behind at Bobby’s while you and Dean had tagged along with your fathers, hoping to learn something new. But it ended with both of them ditching you and him at the crappy motel on main street while they went out to the nearest bar.

“Is there even a heater in this place?” Dean mused, zipping his hoodie up further as he wrapped his arms around himself, hoping to generate some warmth as he sat on the edge of the bed the two of you had been forced to share. (Not that he minded though.)

A light grin tugged on your lips as you shoved the deck of cards back into the box, dropping it down on the small table. “Stopping being a baby. It’s not that cold.”

In a matter of seconds Dean was whipping around to stare daggers into you. “You’re one to talk.” His eyes taking in your form that was wrapped completely in one of the beds comforters, part of it pulled over your head like a hood.

At that you smiled again, shuffling across the cold tile before stepping up onto the mattress and walking across it towards his shivering form. “Aw, poor baby.” You cooed, plopping down behind him before wrapping your comforter clad arms around him, pulling him backwards into your embrace.

“I’m not baby.” He grumbled, the noise muffled by the comforter making you laugh lightly.

“Whatever you say, Deanie.”

In that moment Dean sent out a silent prayer of thanks for his face being concealed or you would have seen the blush creeping across his face. You were turning him into a love sick school boy.

“Alright, you asked for it.” He sighed, leaning all his weight into your arms and making you fall backwards, his torso crushing you against the bed. You let out a light oof which made him roll off you slightly, finally being able to see your face.

God. You were so pretty. So, so pretty. Sometimes he was still amazed that he was able to call you his friend. His first real friend. His only friend. His best friend.

“Whatcha lookin at?”

Damn. Had he been staring? He had been staring. “Um, nothing.”

“That’s a lie. You were looking at my lips.” You grinned, twisting the comforter around the two of you like a burrito, successfully pulling him closer to you.

“What? No! No I wasn’t!” He tried, trying to fend off the heat rising in his cheeks. “You’re crazy.”

There was a pause of silence from your end before your eyes narrowed, almost like you were trying to read him. “If I’m crazy, then I guess you won’t mind if I do this-“ and with one swift movement you closed the gap between the two of you and slammed your lips against his.

The kiss was exactly romantic like Dean hoped it would be. He hadn’t kissed anyone before and neither had you. It was a mess of teeth knocking against each other and mumbling against each others lips. But he was glad this his first kiss was with you. He didn’t want it to be with anyone else.

But when I stand beside her

She burns, yeah she burns

Like petrol soaked paper and fireworks

And I'm burning, I'm burning

I'm burning so deep that just breathing hurts

I'm melting darling and I can't let go

Dean never let you go after that. Sam eventually left for Stanford and when he did, he told you to pack your bags and go with him. You didn’t hesitate. He was your best friend. Your first love. How could you ever say no to him? And from that moment and every day after, you never left each others sides.

“Woah, Dean. Are you okay?”

Your voice snapping Dean out of his thought and back into reality. Back into the uncomfortable wooden seat of the chair in the bunkers library. Good god, he had been deep in thought.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He nodded, reaching for his glass of whiskey still slightly in the zone. “Just thinkin.”

“Oh?” You mused, perching yourself on the edge of the table and prying the drink from his hands, and taking a sip for yourself. “What about?”

“Just how you were a terrible kisser the first time we kissed.” He said plainly, tiring to shoot you a cocky grin, resulting in you lightly smacking the side of his head.

“You weren’t any better if I recall.”

It was hard to play serious around each other. You were still so childlike and Dean matched your mayhem. Sam constantly said the two of you were perfect for each other. . . And Dean wasn’t going to argue that.

A sincere smile took over his features as he looked up at you, still seeing the faint glimpses of teenage you in your eyes. “Love you, Y/N.”

“Love you too, Dean.”

End.

Taglist: (Still Open)

@familybusinesswritingbro​​​​​​​@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @music-is-all-i-need​ @agusdoti​​​​​​​ @callmekda​​​​​​​ @jordangdelacruz​​​​​​​ @orphiceseum​​​​​​​ @andthatsmyworld​​​​​​​ @marvelfangirllll​​​​​​​ @fandomnerdespressourself​​​​​​​ @gladiosamicitias​​​​​​​ @castielsangelsx​​​​​​​ @lxstgxrl-ck​​​​​​​ @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit​​​​​​​ @amendoise​​​​​​​ @phoenixuprisingsstuff​​​​​​​ @ericalynne007​​ @kaitlaitlaitl​​​​​​​ @neerness​​​​​​​ @totallyluciferr​​​​​​​ @supernaturalenchanted​​​​​​​​ @dolanfivsosxox​​​​​​@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts​​​ @akshi8278​​ @defenderrosetyler​​​ @heyyy-hey-babyyy​​

[magicstar16]

A cruel joke

NOTICE: This is a fanfic based on Spectralreplicas Puella magi au, I do not own the au. I also do not own the Puella magi madoka magica franchise or the Danganronpa franchise.

Summary: After a nasty fight and being kicked off of Shuichi’s team, Kokichi sets off on his own to fight a witch himself. He later discovers how disturbingly appropriate the witch and it’s labyrinth seem to be, given his situation

 Third and also kinda second person narration, mostly second.

TW Character death

Also may or may not be slightly OOC but Kokichi’s going through a lot and he needs time to be an actual human being with feelies and not just a lying little shit nugget. 

Kokichi ran through the labyrinth, panting heavily, knocking out familiars who got to close. The familiars were just little fuzzballs balancing on top of bouncy balls, so he could just knock them away as he would with the little balls that came with his mallet. He’d use one of the balls on his outfit, but that took magic, and with his soul gem already pretty murky, he couldn’t risk it. Besides, even if he could afford to take that risk, there weren’t many walls, the labyrinth took the form of an outdoor, cheap county carnival, so there wouldn’t be much to bounce on. In the distance he saw the witch, it was a black ball with cartoonish arms and legs, with a large, cartoony mouth for a face, riding a colorful unicycle. The witch’s cacophonous laughter echoed throughout the labyrinth. Kokichi ran towards the witch without hesitation, pushing off the familiars. The witch pedaled away, still laughing. “Stop running away, You stupid witch!” Kokichi yelled, in between breaths. “This would be so much easier if I was still on a team” he said to himself.

He stopped in his tracks

“Oh wait...” he muttered, his voice trailing off

“That’s right...”

*Flashback*

Kokichi jumped from platform to platform, knocking around his croquet balls as they bounced around as carelessly as he did, with a childlike laughter that only he could produce, while smashing the occasional familiar. The giant witch’s slow, rusty, mechanical wire-like arms kept trying to squash him, like a slow bear trying to squash an annoying little fly. “Come on, you overgrown toy! Give me your best shot!” He laughed, taunting the witch. Shuichi, Kaito, and Gonta, however, were not amused with Kokichi’s jokes at the witch. 

“Stop screwing around Kokichi” Kaito yelled, trying to shoot away the rusty familiars in a nearly blind panic. Kaito’s arrows kept flying towards different directions, sometimes at the familiars, who kept getting closer and closer towards him as Kaito tried to distance himself. 

Shuichi ducked the arrows and croquet balls that flew around the labyrinth. “Would Everyone stop screwing around?! PLEASE?!” Shuichi asked, desperately trying to find some sort of week point.

“Shuichi! Over here! Gonta may have found weak point!” Gonta called out to Shuichi, near the base of the witch. Near the base of the gigantic mechanical body, in a mess of wires and gears, Gonta seemed to have found a large, beating mechanical heart. Shuichi lit up! “Thanks Gonta!” Shuichi replied, Shuichi shot at the heart rapidly, the witch didn’t seem to notice, as it was busy with Kokichi.

Kokichi panted,”Is that all you got, rust bucket?” He asked, Now face to face wtih the witch. It’s glowing eyes glared right at him. It slowly opened it’s mouth, revealing what appeared to be a second mouth with a large cannon inside. Kokichi stared blankly. “Is that supposed to be a no?” he asked. 

As Gonta was wailing on the witch’s heart with his butterfly net, he looked up at the witch, seeing if it had noticed him and Shuichi yet. 

Good news: The witch didn’t notice them!

Bad news: It sure had noticed Kokichi.

Gonta saw the cannon emerging from it’s mouth, it started heating up, about to fire any second. In a moment of impulse, Gonta leaped away from the heart, and onto the platforms to where Kokichi was. 

“Kokichiiiiiii!”

Kokichi stumbled back and looked up at Gonta, who taking the bright, fire like blast for the smaller boy. Kokichi was even more dumbfounded by larger boys action. “Why” Kokichi muttered. “Why are you doing this? You should be helping Shuichi.” Gonta grunted, trying to ground himself in place. “Because” Gonta replied, through pained grunts. “Gonta... g-gentleman. G-gentlemen... protect... others...” Gonta looked back at Kokichi and smiled, even though Gonta could feel his soul gem cracking. “Becoming... gentleman... was... G-gonta’s... wish... after... all...”

Two tortured screams echoed throughout the labyrinth, both followed by a crash and a crack as the labyrinth disappeared. It all happened so quickly. Kokichi fell onto the ground, feet first, not a perfect landing, but still a landing. Gonta was not so lucky, as he fell onto the ground limply, like a ragdoll dropped by a child.

Kokichi chuckled at the bug-lover, who had seemed to suddenly detransformed for some reason. “Klutz” He teased, trying to shove Gonta’s words in the back of his mind. Kokichi detransformed. “Come on ya big lug, we gotta meet with the others!” Gonta just laid there. “Don’t be so dramatic, I know your soul gem took a crapload of damage, but Shumai and Kaito will definitely share the grief seed if you beg enough!” Kokichi joked, trying to laugh, but all he could muster was a chuckle. 

“C-come on idiot” Kokichi murmured, trying to maintain his carefree tone. “T-this isn’t funny” Kokichi kicked the body a little, with no response. “Is this payback for that time I pretended to be dead, and laughed when I saw you crying? Well, I get the point you’re trying to make now.” He said, trying to hold back a couple of tears that seemed to have pricked up. “It’s not very funny on the other end! Ya got me Gonta! You can get up and laugh at me now!” Still no response. Kokichi got on his knees, in an apologetic position “I-i-if you want an apology, I’m sorry! I really am! I understand that it’s not funny! I won’t do it again! Now Please! get! up!!” He cried as he banged his fists on the pavement. Kokichi felt some tears fall down his face, he just couldn’t hold back anymore.

Kaito and Shuichi, now back in their civilian forms, looked around for the grief seed from the witch Kaito looked under some parked cars, “Come on, stupid seed, stop screwing around. My sidekick needs you so he can clear his soul gem.” He said, frustrated. He looked under some more cars, hoping that nobody would be driving out to see four schoolboys (allegedly) screwing around in a parking lot. He REALLY wasn’t in the mood to get scolded by some stranger for playing in a parking lot in the middle of the evening, as he was already mentally preparing himself from the scolding he’d surely get from his grandparents for staying out way past dinner. That and hoping someone wouldn’t run over the seed if it was near a car wheel or something. Kaito ducked under a pickup truck and lit up as he saw a small, black glimmer. “There you are” He chuckled. He looked at the black seed with the gear-like design on it. He found it kinda cool that all grief seeds seemed to have their own symbol. He reached into the underside of the truck and grabbed it. He got up and waved to the others! “found it!” Kaito called out. Shuichi got up from looking under another car, dusting off his uniform and ran over to Kaito. “Alright, good work Kaito! Now we need to tell the others!” Shuichi and Kaito both walked to the side of the lot to avoid any cars, and the two began their search for Gonta and Kokichi.

Kokichi sobbed on his knees quietly, clutching his scarf tightly, begging Gonta to wake up. “P-please Gonta...” He whispered. “I’m sorry for tricking you, I’m sorry...” Kokichi looked up to see Shuichi and Kaito running back. “Shit they might have seen me” Kokichi thought. He turned away and wiped his tears and pulled himself together, and then leaned on a nearby car with his hands behind his head and his elbows up. Trying to look as relaxed as possible. “Took ya long enough.” Kokichi chuckled as they approached. Shuichi, being shuichi, seemed to immediately notice something was off. “What happend to Gonta?’” Shuichi asked. Kokichi, Shuichi, and Kaito looked down at Gonta, who wasn’t moving an inch. “Probably tired, he took a lot of damage after all, let’s help him up” Kaito suggested. Shuichi, and Kaito grabbed Gonta by the arms and lifted him up. Kokichi helped, uncomfortably pulling Gonta up by the feet. The trio took their green-haired teammate to a grassy area on the side of the lot. They laid Gonta on his back. Gonta’s eyes were closed, he had a pained expression stuck on his face. He was unmoving, and cold, like a statue. Shuichi checked the side of Gonta’s neck for a pulse. “H-his heart isn’t beating” Shuichi said worryingly.

Kokichi choked back some tears. This couldn’t be happening. Gonta couldn’t eb dead, and not because of him, right? Sure Kokichi may have lied, manipulated and took advantage of the gentle giant’s kindness and stupidity so he wouldn’t have to do as much work fighting witches, but Gonta always pulled through. He’d bounce back again right? This was just payback!

“It’s completely shattered” Kaito muttered.

“What is?” Shuichi asked

“Gonta’s soul gem... It’s completely destroyed!”

Those words sent a chill up Kokichi’s spine. Kaito held the light green soul gem in his hand. Pieces were scattered around in his palm. 

Kaito looked down at his shaking palm. “You...” He muttered, clutching the remains of the gem. “YOU!” Katio shouted at Kokichi, as slammed his empty fist against another car, making Kokichi unknowingly flinch. “GONTA’S DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU! HE’S DEAD BECAUSE YOU SCREWED AROUND AND HE HAD TO SAVE YOU FROM YOUR OWN STUPIDITY! YOU! KILLED! GONTA!” Kaito screamed in between sobs, Slamming his fist against the car for emphasis on the last 3 words.

Kokichi looked down, not wanting to look up at the enraged taller boy, he’d rather die show himself in such a sorry state. Kokichi choked back tears, and he defeneded himself the only way he knew how.

“It was his fault” Kokichi lied. “He was being stupid again. All he does is waste time trying to save us indvidualy, or be selfless at all” Another lie. “We’re not friends, we’re teammates. We’re colleagues, hinting witches is our job, you don’t need to save teammates” Kokichi spewed out another lie. Kokichi looked up, with a fake smile on his face and a twisted feeling in his guts as he said the following words. “I don’t need him! I never needed him or any of you morons!” He could feel his heart shatter as he spewed out the lie. Like venom that he spit out and swallowed at the same time. 

Kaito baweled with rage and punched the car, choking back sobs. “You monster” He whispered. “You lying, heartless, little monster” Kokichi maintained his smile despite that it felt like glass shards were being stabbed into his heart. “I don’t know why we ever let you on the team, all you do is make everything harder for us!” Kokichi maintained his composure, even though the words felt like knives in his chest. Kaito stormed off. Shuichi, who had been silently mourning over Gonta as the fight when down, approached Kokichi with a lump in his throat. “I’m sorry Kokichi, but Kaito’s right. You don’t corporate with are plans, aside from being a distraction to witches, you also not only take advantage of Gonta, but...” Shuichi hesitated, and choked out a sob “You’re not even grateful for his sacrifice” Shuichi wiped back his tears and looked at Kokichi, right in the eyes. “You’re kicked off the team Kokichi. We can’t be with you if you’re going to be like this” Shuichi looked away, “And, I don’t think we should speak for a while” Shuichi muttered, in a way that was clearly putting it lightly. Kokichi could tell that Shuichi meant that they didn’t want to be friends anymore. He could tell when someone was lying. That was his personal magic after all. Even then he didn’t need magic to know what Shuichi meant. This wasn’t the first that some told Kokichi that they didn’t want to be friends anymore. As Shuichi dragged Gonta’s body away, Kokichi held back his overwhelming amount of tears and yelled out one more lie, without any thought

“FINE! I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP! I DON’T NEED ANYONE’S HELP!”

Kokichi ran off, wishing that Shuichi would at least call out to him, but of course he didn’t.

Nobody would call out his name now

*End of flashback*

Kokichi aimlessly ran throughout the labyrinth as the painful memory flashed through his mind, tears blurred his vision. He could still hear the witch cackling in the labyrinth, the sound pulsed through his head, it almost hurt to listen to. “Shut up!” Kokichi yelled, as if the witch would listen. He batted away at more familiars, it almost seemed as if they were laughing too. In the distance he saw the witch, it seemed as though it was gesturing Kokichi to come towards it. Kokichi ran towards it with whatever strength he somehow had left. “GET! BACK! HERE!” Kokichi screamed, in between tired, stressed breaths. The witch kept laughing as it pedaled away, fast enough to keep away from Kokichi, but slow enough to stay in Kokichi’s sight. Kokichi chased the witch all the way into what seemed like a funhouse. Kokichi walked around the funhouse cautiously, in case the witch could have set up a surprise attack. He heard a little giggle from behind him, Kokichi turned around, to his surprise, there was nothing there. He kept walking through the funhouse, looking around at it’s seemingly endless maze of mirrors. Kokichi felt something tap on his shoulder, he turned around again, nothing.

Nothing but faint giggling

As he looked at all the mirrors in the funhouse, he could hear more giggling, trying to figure out where it was coming from. The mirrors frames seemed to be locked to wide, goofy smiles, in a similar  to comedy masks, it was as if they were about to burst into laughter at any minute. He quickly walked through the halls of the the funhouse until he saw a single mirror in his way, surrounded by giggling familiars. Kokichi stopped and stared at what the mirror displayed.

It was him, crying and knocking around familiars, like he had been earlier. It was like the familiars had recorded him or something. There were even some mirrors laughing at it. (It seemed the mirrors were also familiars.) were all laughing at the “footage” (For lack of a better word) of Kokichi crying and knocking away at familiars with his mallet, like a bunch of children laughing at a funny clown on tv.

Kokichi picked a ball off of his hat and placed it on the floor. He lined up his mallet near the ball. He glared at the mirror playing the footage of him in such a sorry state. He hit the ball with all his might watching it crash into the mirror playing the footage of him, and then bounce from mirror to mirror, breaking them upon each impact. He smirked to himself as he watched the ball smash the mirrors into pieces. He left the hallway proud of himself, there wasn’t really a need to get the ball back, he could always summon more, the balls on his outfit grew back over a certain period of time. 

However, as Kokichi walked away, he felt a blunt impact on the back of his head, causing him to stumble forward onto his stomach. He picked himself, back up, rubbing the back of his head. He looked down to see the ball he had hit earlier. He chuckled to himself, “At least nobody saw that”.

He realized what he said. He plopped the ball back onto his hat and walked away casually. (Sure he didn’t HAVE to retrieve his balls after hitting them, but it was still good to get them back whenever he could, every bounce made his mallet hits stronger after all). Hoping none of the mirrors recorded that. His hopes started to diminish as he went further into the funhouse, hearing more and more laughter as he got deeper. He could even see some of the mirror familiars laughing at him, writing insults on lower leveled mirrors for Kokichi to read, and  even playing the footage of him getting hit by his own ball. Kokichi kept looking forward, he needed to preserve his magic to fight the witch, or any familiars that decided to gang up on him.  

He trudged up to a large door with laughing mouths on it. He opened the door to see what appeared to be a circus ring, with the witch in the center, the seats were filled with familiars. They cheered as Kokichi entered, as if they were excited to see him. Kokichi glared at the witch, it bounced gleefully and gestured Kokichi to come towards it. Kokichi sprinted after the witch with his mallet. Kokichi swung with all his might, but the witch dodged. Kokichi kept trying to hit the witch, but it kept dodging. As Kokichi kept trying to hit the witch, the laughter from it and it’s familiars got louder and louder. Kokichi, stumbled around, desperately trying to hit the witch. Eventually Kokichi collapsed onto the ground, it was like he could barely be able to hear his own breathing over the laughter from the labyrinth. The witch rolled up to his pathetic form. 

“Why?” Kokichi asked, more to himself to the witch. “Why would it bring me to the center of it’s own labyrinth?”

As if to answer his question, the witch opened it’s gaping mouth in a rectangular shape, like a tv screen. The familiars all went silent. Kokichi stared at the mouth in shock. It was a mirror playing footage of him, but not just any footage. 

It was footage of his fight with Kaito.

It almost hurt to watch the recording, but the strange (Or worst) part was that the recording paused in between Kaito’s sentences, to give time for the familiars in the audience to laugh, like a sitcom.

“GONTA’S DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!” There was Laughter from the audience “HE’S DEAD BECAUSE YOU SCREWED AROUND AND HE HAD TO SAVE YOU FROM YOUR OWN STUPIDITY!” again, there was laughter. ”YOU! KILLED! GONTA!” There was not only laughter, but cheering from the crowd, almost as if the familiars were all saying “You tell him” in response. Kokichi watched his response in the recording. Wishing he could say how he really felt. Wishing he had the courage to say the truth.

The truth was, It was Kokichi’s fault.

The truth was, Kokichi was the stupid one, in a way

The truth was, Kokichi really did see them as friends.

The truth was the truth was the truth was the truth was the truth was the truth was the truth was the truth was the truth was the truth was the truth was the truth was the truth was the truth was the truth was the truth was the truth was the truth was the truth was the truth was the truth was...

“I need you” Kokichi whispered, pleadingly, “I need you” 

Kokichi kept his head down as he tried to hold back tears. The recording continued the play, with the occasional laughter from the familiars. Until the recording finally ended, with the last scene. Himself, running away while crying. 

As the recording stopped and the witch’s mouth returned to normal size, there was silence. Much to Kokichi’s relief. He looked up to face the witch.

The witch began to faintly giggle, the giggle grew into a mocking laughter, and then grew into a hysterical cackle, even pointing at Kokichi. It’s voice became deeper, and gained a demented echo to it. It’s familiars began to laugh to, the fuzzy ball balancing familiars pointed their tiny arms at Kokichi, while the mirror familiars wrote insults on their reflective surfaces, the on their frames now animated with laughter. With insults such as Crybaby, fool, liar, weakling, monster, and others. Kokichi stared at the at the crowd of familiars, all while tears poured out of his eyes. It all seemed so funny to them, his struggle, his misery, his despair, it was all so funny to these sick beings. It was all so funny that...

He started laughing too.

“Oh I get it now!” He shouted. “I get the joke now!” He yelled out to the crowd, crying and laughing at the same time. He turned to the witch, as if it could understand him.

“This is all a big joke!” He said. “This is a joke and I’m the punchline!” Kokichi laughed, feeling a little dumb that he didn’t get it sooner. “You’re some kind of a clown or circus witch” He explained. “You’re entire thing is making people laugh, or more accurately, making people do things to make YOU laugh!” He gestured towards is outfit. “My costume is basically a clown costume, and clowns make people laugh. One of the most common types of humor is seeing other people get hurt, like slapstick!” Kokichi felt kinda stupid for explaining the witch’s own gimmick to itself, but the explanation was more for his own benefit, it would be impossible to hear himself think with the cacophony of laughter from the witch and it’s familiars. “It all makes sense, the cheap carnival theme, the familiars, the funhouse, the circus tent center, The witch leading me here, the familiars being excited to see me.” He let out a deranged laugh, almost on par with the witch’s laughter. “This is all an act and I’m the main event! I’m the hilarious main event! This is all slapstick to you all! To you all, I’m just a clown putting on a show!” He picked up is mallet. “And the best part is, it’s kinda true in a way. It really is kinda funny!” He picked up his mallet and pounced onto the witch, smashing his mallet right on to unicycle, making sure it couldn’t get away. “So go ahead! Laugh at me!” Kokichi smashed his mallet on the witch, who was still laughing at him. “Laugh at the funny clown!” He smashed the mallet onto the witch again, knocking a few teeth out of it’s giant face- mouth. 

“Laugh at the pathetic, crybaby, lying, heartless clown who can’t hold on to a single friend!” Kokichi than rapidly mashed his hammer on the witch, his laughing now indistinguishable to his gross sobbing. 

Finally, after for what seemed like eternity of laughing, crying, and smashing, the witch was finally dead. The labyrinth disappeared, revealing the empty city crosswalk where it had spawned. Kokichi detransformed and collapsed onto the sidewalk, he panted, he could barely breathe. He picked up the grief seed and  crawled onto a nearby bench at an empty bus stop and sighed. He looked at the grief seed’s pattern, it was a laughing mouth, just like the one on the witch. It was like even after defeat, the witch still laughed at Kokichi. The purple haired boy could still hear the witches laughter in his mind. Kokichi took his sould gem and placed the grief seed on it, watching a the murky blackness fade away. Kokichi felt as if a giant weight that had been left on his chest for hours and had finally been lifted. Kokichi took a deep breath in relief.

But why did he still hurt? He had no injuries (At least no major ones) and his soul gem was squeaky clean. Plus, how would he get home? It was almost 9:00, he should have been home an hour ago.

Kokichi didn’t really care anymore. He figured he’d just take the next bus, it would only be arriving in about ten minutes anyway. He could just say he got lost or something, It had happened before.

Kokichi stared at his soul gem, now in ring form, feeling tears prick up in his eyes. He curled up into a ball.

And finally cried.

[sadienita]

To Date Seventeen

This one is a little different. I think a lot about the kinds of people I think would make good partner’s for Seventeen. Below is a short blurb for each member on what I think would be really important for them in their partner. I tried to think as realistically as possible and obviously I don’t know them this is just a best guess. (Also shout out to @captain-brie for being excited for this idea)

Seungcheol

He likes to take care of people. He does it a lot. I really think he needs someone who sort of strikes a balance. You have to be independent enough that he knows he doesn’t have to worry when he’s away, but he needs to feel needed. He wants you to just be a bit dependent on him. So you’ll have to be okay with him babying you from time to time. You also need to learn when he wants to be taken care of. I think he needs that care turned around on him from time to time and He’s not always aware of it so you have to learn him well enough to know when he needs to be taken care of and handled gently. He’s also a very cuddly person o really if you’re not touchy at all, it would be difficult for him. He wants to show his love through touch.

Jeonghan

Jeonghan is at once very mischievous and very caring. He won’t hesitate to poke fun at you and while I think he’d be very good at reading you, he would appreciate it if you’re straight up with him. I don’t think he wants to guess at things so if you know where your boundaries are, the things that are off limits to make fun of for ne reason or another, tell him. He will learn on his own but he prefers you just tell him and he’ll never joke about those things again. I do think you have to be able to keep up with him and laugh at yourself. He’ll want you to poke fun at him too and joke around with him. Also above all you have to love his members as much as he does. They’re important to him and if they don’t like you? Yikes.

Joshua

I think Joshua’s appreciation is very quiet. He doesn’t say out loud how beautiful or wonderful or amazing you are very much. So if you need to hear those things you’ll have to tell him. And notice it in the way he looks at you and how gentle he is with you and the way he has a bigger soft spot for you than for anyone else and how he’s always on your side. A perceptive partner is a good thing for him because I think he’d have a habit of leaving things unsaid. Also, someone who brings that normalcy into his life. A place he can go to get away from the hectic that doesn’t expect Joshua of Seventeen from him all the time.

Junhui

Jun is a fun loving bean and I think he needs someone who can keep up with his energy. He can be more bouncy and boisterous but I also think he has his quiet moments. A partner who can follow that is important. If he’s at a state of high energy he’ll want you to be too. But I think he can go from that to a state of rest very quickly and if  you can keep up with those changes and match them it’ll be something really special. Being able to switch from silly to serious relatively quickly falls in line with this. I really think a deep conversation with him could be a bit of a roller coaster but if you can keep up a very worthwhile one. This boy also loves his food. You have to be willing to eat with him and cook with him. Not just to learn each other’s favourite recipes for later but truly as a bonding experience.

Soonyoung

Whereas Jun needs an equal, Soonyoung needs an opposite. That man is high energy and while it’s a public persona I think it’s also an extension of who he is as a person and just how he is. I think if you’re relatively calm with him it will help him to come down from those high energy states and relax. When he’s with you he really just wants to be himself and I think even more than his other members, you have to allow him to just be Kwon Soonyoung for a while and not Hoshi. He is also extremely cuddly and that’s how he will show his love so if you’re not, I don’t think it’ll sore out all that well.

Wonwoo

I think if you’re confident he’ll find that pretty attractive. That doesn’t mean you have to love every part of yourself but if you carry yourself with confidence, even when you’re not feeling it, he’ll really admire that. Wonwoo is really a smart man. I think that above a lot of other things he needs to be able to have an intelligent conversation with you. If you’re interested in something or work in a field he knows nothing about he’ll be fascinated and want to learn more about it from you. You don’t have to be on like that all the time and he can appreciate silliness, but if you can’t hold a conversation and show interest in topics bigger than yourself and your immediate world it won’t work.

Jihoon

The man is shy, you’re going to have to make the first move. But like, I highkey think if you’re really intimidating you might actually scare him off. It’s a delicate balance. This is important with all of them but so much so with Jihoon that music and Seventeen are his life. You have to be at peace with the fact that at first you will not be that high on his priority list. Things shift over time but you have to appreciate his work and understand that it’s important to him and it will affect his ability to be with you and pay attention to you. Honestly he’d do really well with a relaxed and low maintenance partner. Also a bonus if you’re interested in music and can talk about it with him, or are at least willing to listen while he tells you about it.

Seokmin

He is very kind and sensitive and trusting so he really does need someone who does not take advantage of that and hurt him. He needs to be handled with care. He will do anything in his power to make you smile and that means two things. Firstly, he needs a partner that can laugh at themselves but even more than Jeonghan he needs you to tell him your boundaries. I think very few things are off limits to him and he deals with humor so if you’re not comfy with that you have to say so or he won’t realize that he’s upsetting you at fsirt. Secondly, he’ll do well with someone who laughs along but if you don’t want to laugh, be honest with him. Some days we don’t but it will be his go to. Honesty and communication are here. I think he really does also need a safe haven in a partner. Someone who reassures and comforts him and reminds him to relax and not be DK for a while.

Mingyu

Do not hurt him part 2. Mingyu is kind and helpful. If he visits you and something is broke nor you’re cooking or cleaning up he will offer to help you out. He really needs someone who won’t take advantage of his kindness and willingness to help. I think the biggest thing for him is someone with a heart as big as his. If you can match him in caring and kindness that’s important. He probably won’t realize right away if you are taking advantage of him but when he did it would hurt him more than anything. Someone with a willingness to listen and let him bring them his issues. He’ll do the same for you but I think he’d really appreciate having your shoulder to lean on.

Minghao

He’ll be blunt. If he really cares about you he will be blunt with you. That’s not to say he would be unkind, but he values your opinion and assumes that if you’re with him you value his as well. He won’t throw lots of unsolicited advice your way, but if you do ask for his opinion he will he honest with you. He won’t sugarcoat hos words for you so if you can’t handle sometimes blunt (or harsh if need be) opinions or advice then it probably won’t work. Also just communication and honesty. Don’t lie to him, tell him what’s on your mind and be honest with him. I don’t think he had much patience for someone who says “I’m fine” and wants him to read their mind and know that something is wrong.

Seungkwan

Listen if his mom doesn’t like you then you might as well give up now. His family is important and this extends to his members but it’s a very big thing with his family. If they hate you then it ain’t gonna work out. He likes to sass and joke around and much like some of the others he may not pick up on it if he crosses a line and jokes about something you don’t want made into a joke. You will have to tell him your boundaries on those sorts of things. I think he’d do really well with a reassuring partner. Someone who is his own personal cheerleader, just knowing that he has you in his corner is going to make him feel ten times more confident and assured than he already is.

Hansol

He needs a relatively easy going partner that’s good at talking things out. He isn’t into arguments and even a debate that gets too heated will have him feeling uncomfortable. He’d be very good at talking things out with you but if you’re argumentative or you get easily heated and turn things into an argument too quickly he’ll shut down. He’ll want to give you space and talk about it when you can be calm so he really needs someone calm who doesn’t get worked up easily. Like Joshua he needs prompting to express his feelings out loud at times. And he’ll take an “I’m fine” at face value, or at least as an “I don’t wanna talk about it.” He’d be very good at giving what you need but you’ll have to be able to tell him what that is.

Chan

The not so baby baby of the group. He needs someone who doesn’t baby him. He wants to be seen as an adult and he needs that in his relationship. I feel for him that a relationship is really a partnership. He’ll be a little slow to lean on you and be vulnerable with you but he does want to and he wants you to do that same with him. He needs to know that you realize he’s an adult and can handle himself and in turn he’ll see you the same way. At the same time, he is still youthful. The best partner is the one that makes him feel secure enough in his place as an adult, that he lets go and let’s himself be silly and childish with them from time to time. He would really appreciate that outlet and someone who knows how to balance out being an adult and being thoughtful with the silliness of childlike wonder would have a wonderful relationship with him.

[butt-lore]

Here’s something that will prolly make you sad.

Paring: PCY x Black non binary/ambiguous OC (I’m telling you that cuz I don’t know if there will be more chapters n it’s first person)

Words: 12905

Warnings: past abuse/abused/trauma mention, semi graphic (one detail). Pcy is NOT the antagonist/perpertrator!!!!

Rating: Loose fluff, loose hurt/comfort, building a relationship, soulmates sorta.

He’s been doing it all day. In between bites of the expensive dinner he insisted on, while sitting idly in traffic, while walking on the street (my hand in his coat pocket of course), everywhere we went his eyes would lazily drag across the ground or table to watch me. Never did he mean malice, I don’t think, as unnerving as it was Chanyeol appeared amused. The longer the night got the more sideshow I felt to the pleasant evening, from the private viewing of a quickly rising artist, to the picnic lunch complimented by an expansive garden, and especially at dinner, a (again) private room that overlooked the Yellow Sea. He claims he enjoys looking at me, I take him at face value. But now…

It’s not a kiss that increases my pulse, but he does kiss me in the middle of me talking. It wasn’t anything grand, just my favorite flower, which he asked for. I was caught off guard, wide-eyed, alarmed to say the least. It’s not a spectacular “soulmates meant to be'' kiss, yet I can’t call it unwelcomed. As slowly as he took his time to motion The Kiss I could have backed away. Soft as Chanyeol gently cupped each check in his large palms offset the chilly January breeze, as gentle as he leaned into my lips rather than pull me closer. Everything about The Kiss was right, the timing odd, but if this were “The One,” wouldn’t the earthquake beneath me or stars shatter from the sky? No rush of blood comes when he backs away, no fireworks form in my throat, I’m left speechless in a secluded cabin on a mountain very very very far from home. Danger doesn’t bang on pots and pans, anxiety refuses to acknowledge my behavior as any type of red flag, my body acts feels quite heavy as my head crumbles into his expectant hands. It’s so quiet in the woods.

Chanyeol’s brown eyes seemed concerned at my response— or rather the non response as an answer. We never break eye contact, even as my lungs impatiently pull air back into my chest. I need to think quickly, tell him whatever wouldn’t discourage his feelings, reassure him I just have no idea how to process the situation. Then he says something dumb— because they always say something dumb.

“It’s just..” the rapper is first to break eye contact, measuring his words with each drum of a finger against respective cheeks. “When we first spoke I thought to myself, ‘this person has the prettiest lips I’ve ever seen,’ I’ve been thinking that.” I’m not immediately offended, it’s not a compliment I’m new to, it just irritated the fuck out of me. “But just now, when you were speaking, the way you said flower was really pretty and I interrupted you, so I’m sorry for that.” I don’t process what he said immediately, so he goes on, still refusing to look me in the eye. “And when I kissed you just now I thought to myself, ‘I can’t date a person who makes me want to kiss them because they said flower’.”

Absurd. Near laughable. I knock his arms to the side to get his attention, head snapping back down towards me. “You bring me millions of miles from home, make me uncomfortable all day, interrupt me while I’m answering your question just because I have pretty lips?” Yes, the whole ordeal is hard to contain, I want to bark into fits of laughter. If it weren’t for the aggravated look he threw at me moments after my abrupt movements… I go the direct path, keeping my tone light and even, I hope I soften my eyes enough that shock has faded, even if I was still unsure what to do now.

“Yes.” I stay silent, perhaps there’s more to the story. Maybe I’m so funny I split his sides when we’re texting, a slight chance I make the best pork katsu he’s ever had, that my company was so enjoyable he took me to a cabin in the middle of the woods where no one can hear my screams no matter how loud they bounce off the walls. The warning bells I didn’t feel before punch me in the gut and I’m attentive to each move he makes now. Tiny ticks in his fingers, the frown, how he backed away.

When his rich baritone goes unspoken, I stay friendly. “Okay.” I look around the cabin unassuming, the fireplace surely has a stick or two, the kitchen isn’t far but his legs are longer than mine. I can’t drive in the snow either. Did I ever tell him that?

Chanyeol sighs, walking away from me entirely to sit on the couch. “I thought you would like it.” He sounded upset. I stay where I am by the dining table close to the entrance of the home. “Would you have preferred the city? Or a city abroad?” I inch a little further away. Small movements. “You said you hated busy places so I figured a cabin would be fun, we could go skiing or something, but I see I should have asked.”

Blinking back the alarm bells, I managed a small giggle. “I like it.” Which is the truth, this is my idea of a nice vacation. But I met Chanyeol a week ago. He’s yet to make me uncomfortable like he has today, however. “I just didn’t expect you to kiss me is all. Or for that to be the only reason you brought me here.”

The way his head jerks causes all the strands he so carefully tied into an incredibly messy bun to fall suspiciously around his face. I’m not frightened, his eyes are wide and lips parting and closing like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Just? Just? Well that’s just stupid, Rolo.” I’m not sure where I've offended him but I need to leave. “We just met a week ago. Do you think this is the norm for me? That I throw money around for people I barely even know just because they have pretty lips. I told you I thought that when we met. Would you like to know what I think now?”

I’m almost too afraid to nod, I expect him to yell, throw something, force me into submission. It’s irrational, because I don’t know this man, I’ve never spent an extensive amount of time with him alone, I know what I’ve seen and heard on television, there’s no logical explanation to my fear, but it takes me to my knees figuratively, and I’m almost audibly whimpering. Whatever he wants a soft, comforting voice whispers, you can get out alive if you do whatever he wants. I think he wants me to answer yes, so I answer yes. Dry and my throat is, he hears me.

Rising to his feet and placing his eyes back on me, this time with annoyance, Chanyeol puts his hand out. The gesture means nothing to me, was he calling me over or asking me to come over? Did he want my hand? There are too many wrong answers in these situations. I go to walk over but he puts his hand palm up, stopping me before I start. “I’m asking to approach you.” He does the gesture again, this time it clicks. He is gesturing towards me, asking respectfully without words if he can come over. I nod. He inspects me again before approaching, now holding out his hand for mine. “I have made you uncomfortable. All day?” Chanyeol is away from me, watching from outside his body as it attempts awkward contact with mine. “I was watching because you fascinate me.” I keep my arms rooted at my side, if I could wrap them around my person, comfort myself, or disappear into myself, I would.

As best as a tall and broad man can, Chanyeol shrinks himself before me, kneeling on his left knee before falling to the other. It’s a display, a situation I’ve never seen or been in before. Was he apologizing? “Oh, it’s okay-“

Chanyeol hangs his head gently, a chuckle on his lips. “Ro, hear me when I say my intention was only to learn you. What you like. How you do things. What makes you smile most and what turns your face up in that cute scrunched up almost piggy-like pout. I can’t help it, forgive me. You entrance me.” My head is spinning… maybe the room was spinning— the next thing I know I’m sitting on the bouncy and my date is kneeling by my lap, hands to himself. “May I ask you something before I tell you my answer?”

I know what he’s going to ask. It’s not the first time. I’m so used to these situations I had given up on dating entirely. The pity in their eyes after you tell them about the Trauma, about the pain. I’m no longer an individual but rather something fragile, almost childlike; someone to easily be manipulated. I can’t say I am ‘easy’ but I’m swayed if convinced enough. So eager to please. Even if I was healing, this was exhausting.

“Yes. All the time in fact. So often I had to get a socket reconstructed.” Chanyeol is slow to process my words. I should have waited for the question. “That’s why I’m nervous. I have no reason to be but I am. It’s been a long time since I’ve been alone with a man.”

“Why’d you come?” When I look down, shining brown eyes are looking back, “I never want you uncomfortable.”

“I assumed this is how you kpop stars do.” I can’t help but wonder if he knows just how breathtaking he can be. Even just sitting before me was adorable. Shaggy brown hair touching at his shoulders, a light pink dabbed over rounded cheeks, each beauty mark (but especially the one on the bridge of his nose) are charming me off the ledge. Slowly, unknowingly at first, I’m growing more comfortable. “But you said you don’t do this, so now I would like your answer. I came because I think you’re funny and kind. I wanted to get to know you better whatever the cost, I’m sorry.” I don’t know why I’m apologizing, neither does Chanyeol, who is smiling so softly, pity etched in umber irises. I felt so small even if I had to look down at him. This isn’t what I want. “But earlier—“ big cheeks drop, concern is all he can give me at this moment. I’m too unpredictable. “When you kissed me, I felt nothing.”

That doesn’t shock him, her who is standing to his full height and giggling his way to a cabinet in the kitchen. “Do you like white or red wine?” He knows the answer to this one, only does he ask to make obvious why he would go to the kitchen. He’s not gonna kill me, a simple drink order is all. He’s not mad we are meant to just be friends. What if he hates that idea though? “Here.” Chanyeol insists I open the bottle, another reassuring measure his brain must have cooked up. It’s working. I’m relaxing. Yet he is acting like I hadn’t rejected him, should I make myself more clear and high tail it down the hill and back on a plane? Would he search high and low for whispers on me? Panic is settling all around my ears, alarms blaring, his thin lips move and I can read them, but I can’t hear his voice at all. Curious.

Taking a steadying breath, “so if I tell you right now, I want to go home, home home, and never see you again?” I have to strain my eyes to read his words, a genuine yes, he even takes the wine bottle from my trembling hands and gathers my things. He’s halfway to the door when I hear a suitcase click, and then the ac unit, and some low electronic rumbling. Perhaps I can hear the rustling of birds outside, or some other animal lurking by. “I want to stay. Just. May I use the bathroom?”

“It’s negative twenty out. If you want to leave let me drive you.” It’s stern but not a command, like he’s inviting me to challenge him, like it’s a game for him.

I rise up to the occasion. “What makes you think I don’t have an escape plan?” At first, the joke was even morbid for me, I think it’s too far, this isn’t someone you just casually say to another human. Especially when they think you’re terrified of them.

Chanyeol surprises me again with a shrug. “Not practical enough your phone is in your bag by the door.”

“Lucky for you I just need to pee and recollect my thoughts.”

“I do my best thinking in the bathroom, go.”

The rest of the night isn’t nearly as uncomfortable. When he looks at me I’m not on display, but rather, there’s a look he gives me, one I’m well acquainted with. I hadn’t seen it in so long I had almost missed it. My dad used to look at me like this when I would bring him dinner after a long day at work. My mother would look at me like this after tucking me in at night. This very same look a man who was never this kind gave me. How do you differentiate between love and fiction? How do you know if the love that is there is made up of malicious intent or if you are soulmates?

It’s very late by the time Chanyeol announces there are three rooms in the house and that I can pick from any of them. He never intended we share a bed, something that shocks me yet again. Why bring me all the way to a cabin in the middle of the woods during winter? Is that not the point of cabin vacations? Cozying up to the one you love?

“You want to know what I think of you now?” My head had fallen prey to his strong shoulder, cheek squished on a bicep, a strong bicep. Shapely too. I wonder if he works out daily or just a few times a week. Humming for him to continue I stay in my musings, what a wonderfully sculpted man. “I think you’re weird as hell and you match me exactly.” Shifting so I can look at him incredulously, Chanyeol is carefully putting my face back in his hands. “That first kiss was just because I liked the way your lips moved when you said flower. Nothing more nothing less.” If this was a love confession it’s the cheesiest one I’ve heard. “I will not kiss you again until you let me. I need to hear you say, ‘Chanyeol, I want you to kiss me.’ And I will no hesitation. Because— while you might not feel anything, I feel everything for the both of us right now and it’s overwhelming. Tell me if or when you’re ready, for now I will shoulder the burden.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Mimicking his earlier sentence, my teeth poke out from my lips, I’m trying so hard to not laugh. “There’s no way in hell me saying ‘flower’ has any effect on you at all… see I just said it and you’re still there and I’m still here.” Chanyeol just watches, pressing his palms into my cheeks, he licks at his lips while watching mine. “Chanyeol… kiss me.” And he does, immediately pressing his lips to mine.

A star collapsing at seven solar masses doesn’t begin to compare. It’s almost criminal when he does it again to say goodnight. I lay away, heart in my throat, replaying all three kisses in my head like a giddy school aged kid with their first boyfriend. The first one: off guard and alarming. The second: spectacular and dawning. The third: nostalgic and longing.

Holding up my left hand I look at the word embedded on my ring finger; “pretty.” Plain, blockly black text mocks me. A friend of mine in high school had “your eyes- fuck, excuse me I’m sorry, your eyes are stunning, I’m Melo,” appear on my thigh during swim practice at pe junior year. All I get is “pretty”. A tried and true compliment but one I hear so often. One that is almost never accompanied by other nouns. “Pretty”.

Chanyeol called me pretty the moment we met. Out of breath and slightly dazed, his tongue twisted loops just to force out a measly “pretty.” I laughed of course, a famous man told me I was pretty, to which I complimented him back. He asked me on a date that minute and I said yes. He could be the one. The one whose handwriting is scrawled unceremoniously on my marriage hand. God is so funny like that sometimes. Kiss one, kiss two, and kiss three… I wonder if “your smile takes all the air out my lungs,” is neatly scribbled on his tanned skin somewhere, if that’s why we’re in a secluded cabin.

Mom told me not everyone finds the owner of the words, and not everyone ends up in love with the owner of the words. Some stay friends, some become enemies, others simply live life never searching. I remember the day mama’s words left her, she didn’t leave bed for a week. I never met the person, but daddy says she was kind, and the light of my mom's life. A part of me wishes the words would just leave me, but then I remember why words suddenly disappear and feel guilty. Searching for the owner of these words has placed me in vicarious situations, ones I almost never got out of. I should just give up. Who cares if kiss one wasn’t special, the other two still had me reeling. I’m so giddy, I can’t wait to see him in the morning, to speak with him all day, to kiss him goodnight again.

Soulmate or not, one thing is for sure, I am falling for Park Chanyeol.

[lumiereswig]

hey all so i just saw ‘hadestown’ and feel duty bound to tell you fools everything about it because i, too, remember what it is to be lonely and on the internet and too poor to see some snazzy broadway shit

there’s no fanfare or anything. the show opens with all the cast coming on—and obviously the audience is going buckwild, especially with amber gray. (u can tell there’s a lot of great comet fans in the audience.) only once everybody is settled does hermes really TAKE THE STAGE.

and boy does he take it. sassy lil shit knows he owns it and just stands there taking in his audience, before flipping his jacket back with dramatic flare (to show his SNAZZY-ASS SILVER THREADED VEST) and starting to sing. (cue noisy wah-wah trombone.)

the setting is p. clearly a bar; orpheus p. clearly works there. he’s like being artsy with the napkins and shit, blossoming them into roses. eurydice is a traveler; she carries with her, wrapped in brown silk, an alter candle that she lights. (after sassing hermes into giving her a match to light it with.) eurydice balances her candle with the paper rose orpheus later makes and gives to her.

orpheus is pretty childlike and dreaming in this version. (not the cocky boy from the off broadway production.) he comes off as kind of lanky and awkward and not quite there; naive is definitely a defining adjective for him. everything about him is soft and gentle and in a dreaming world.

eurydice is kind of a classic tough girl but she’s got a strand of helplessness to her. she puts on a show of not being impressed by orpheus until he sings her the song he’s working on, and manages to bring a rose into his palm.

environmental collapse is a HUGE theme thru this—bigger than i thought it would be. eurydice’s first lines are about how there’s no spring or autumn anymore; everything is winter or summer, too hot or cold to live. the fates sing of the winds—the fates sort of torment her throughout this—but climate change looms as a dread through the show. orpheus hopes his song will bring back summer, put the seasons back in tune.

anyway, everyone’s hanging out at a new orleans style bar. even hades and persephone are there, though above it all in a balcony of their own

did i mention bradley king is a god among lighting designers?

because that will come back a lot

anyway hermes is sort of an uncle figure to orpheus; he was friends with orpheus’s mother, a muse. as soon as orpheus sees eurydice he wants to talk to her, and hermes advices him not to ‘come on too strong’—

and well that plan goes immediately out the window : ‘come home with me!’ [eurydice: ’what?’]

orpheus is just intensely awkward. skinny pale child doesn’t know how to interact with the world

they have kind of an argumentative relationship from the start—they don’t face each other very often; there’s a push and pull as he longs for her and she, kneejerk tough girl, tries not to go for this. but the rose from his palm enchants her, and she holds on to it. ‘you have to finish your song.’

GODDDD AMBER GRAY IS JUST LIIIIIIIFE. her persephone is a total lush and frequently staggers through act 1. she also has a fabulous white coat that gradients to green at the sleeves. when she dances you can’t tell if she’s about to pass out or float up to the ceiling.

when orpheus gives the toast he’s just so awkward it’s appalling

(and everyone toasts except eurydice)

hades wears sunglasses when he comes to the world above to bring persephone back to the world below. he descends from his balcony to get her, and brings her to the center of the stage—and then, oh, SHIT, there’s a fucking perfect round trap door right where they’re standing, and they descend below. (amber gray looking up to the slowly disappearing sky with the face of a martyr who’s used to the gig.)

winter’s hard. eurydice has to bust back out her old ass coat (instead of the winsome black slip thing and brown vest thing she was wearing), and the Fates, bitches as they be, try to fuckin rip it off her. (and succeed. the choreography looks like wind! also chairs and tables looked like they were floating earlier but i forgot to mention that.)

eurydice is trying to get ORPHEUS’S FUCKIN ATTENTION bout the fact they got no food and, uh, three bitchy old ladies dressed all in gray just took her coat, but he’s submerged in writing his song to bring back the weather. and while this is all going on, hades and persephone are having their age-old argument about how hell is too hot and too loud and IT AIN’T RIGHT, IT AIN’T NATURAL.

because, get this, after descending to hell they descended /back up/ into it, and u can tell cuz the lighting is fuckin genius. i’ll explain later except i won’t.

orpheus is just OUT OF IT and not hearing anything at all eurydice is tryin to fuckin say. (the tune keeps going wrong.) hades is sick of persephone not being with his electric shiny no-good shittiness and lays his eyes on eurydice as easy prey.

he puts on his sunglasses again and u know it’s bad news.

he talks her over and gives her her ‘ticket’—two silver coins that she momentarily holds up over her eyes as she looks at us, letting us know that this is some death imagery. she holds both hades��� coins and orpheus’s flower—and, making up her mind, calls out orpheus’s name one last time and descends into the underworld through that same miraculous trap.

and then, fuck me, the trap comes back up but just the red flower is on it. fuuuuuck meeeeeeee i may have wept.

orpheus finishes his damn song and hermes lets him know that hE FUCKED UP HIS WHOLE DAMN LIFE SHE GONE, BITCH, and orpheus sees the flower on the trap door and then he’s weeping, too.

and then we get to ‘wait for me’ and holy shit, y’all, i never been so fully into something in my life? it was so physically intoxicating i almost wanted to throw up. like, wonder as a liquid beverage. tHE LIGHTING? ? i fuckin felt awe on this earth today, i saw god and he’s lit by bradley king.

because! hades’ workers bring on these industrial metal lamps, and they hook them to the wires in the ceiling, and they SEND THEM SWINGING OUT INTO THE FUCKIGN AUDIENCE. they fuckin—they—they they they!—they fucking did! that! sent them swinging out in perfect rhythm and time, fully lit, swinging around orpheus and into the audience. and tHEN! THE FUCKIN SET! BEGINS TO GROW!!!

remember the first time u saw the nutcracker as a child and the growing christmas tree fuckin ripped ur world apart? it’s like that except times ten thousand

like it felt like. like the fuckin world was coming apart. the bar set is slowly ripping open and golden light is just searing into your eyeballs and the golden lamps are still swinging around orpheus and it literally felt like god had opened up a cold one and was just singing something horrible into being. it was wonder. i want to see it again.

like. stagecraft, babyyy

and u think act 1 will end on that because why would it nOT but no, we get ‘why we build the wall,’ which is a sort of chilling propoganda thing where everybody is facing forward and just telling back to hades whatever he’s yelling about, and persephone is there and i’m not sure why (like does she believe this? is she the unwilling consort? what’s the deal?)

and at the end eurydice comes in, and sort of picks up on the gestures everybody is doing—in that way everyone does when they come into a room and they want to vaguely pass as with it so they try to sync in to the general vibe. ‘uhh sure everyone’s waving their hands and talkin about walls so i guess i will too’, that kind of thing

hades shows her up to his office (the balcony door) to sign the papers. as soon as he’s gone, amber gray whips round to face the audience. ‘anybody want a drink?’

it’s intermission and i’m still trying to catch up on all the gasp-crying i started during ‘wait for me’

we also get an overpriced hadestown cup cuz get while the getting’s good, right?

back in act 2 and it’s our lady of the underground, ie amber gray in her exact outfit from above except instead of lurid green it’s savage black. (and instead of a bouncy curly brown wig it’s a black sparkly snood.) she dances and pivots and rivets her way through it, introducing the band, being winsome savage bite-your-face-off-and-offer-to-share-it-with-you amber gray. she’s got a neat little ring-shaped silver flask that hangs from her hand like a purse, and i want one.

eurydice emerges from the office dressed in the same overalls as the other workers—though she looks sexy af in them, ngl—and sings ‘flowers,’ and talks about how nobody down here looks at her, and how it’s like they don’t even see her. the underworld is not what she thought it would be. she wants to go home but can’t. she can’t remember orpheus’s name.

uNTIL HE SHOWS UP! Punk ass bitch made it, somehow, and stumbles onto the stage with guitar in hand. she knows his name immediately. but she can’t leave, because she signed her soul away.

u knew all this. it’s classic myth. did i mention patrick page as hades sounds like the combined harmonics of every rumbling truck on the george washington bridge every time he decides to sing?

orpheus has A Moment™ where it’s like, if this is what the world is, if people sign their names up for shit and i can’t save them, i guess i’ll just go home. but he talks himself out of it (apparently his magic vocal cords work on him, too), and actually talks himself (and the stone workers of the underworld!) into activism.

amber gray and patrick page share a duet i’ve never heard before, and it’s fine, and i think it still needs fine tuning cuz im not sure exactly how persephone feels about hades in this bit. it’s fine. what matters is that at the end of it, hades is FUCKED because rebellion is brewing.

he gets orpheus to sing his song. and holy shit, is it a doozy. holy shit, but were we all crying. hooooolyyy shiiiiiit.

holy shit.

when hades sings the refrain at the end, amber gray looks like she’s experiencing the most visceral, exquisite, heartfelt, heartbroken pain of her life. she literally bends as if she’s felt this pain in her stomach—this pain, this anguish over the song she hasn’t heard for so long from this one man she loved so well.

and when a rose blossoms from hades’s palm, persephone is both crying and laughing. it’s like the old times have bloomed again.

and then they dance.

also, should have mentioned earlier, it’s implied it’s not an og song orpheus is singing; he’s actually stumbled on an ancient one, perhaps one hades used to sing, and THAT’S why it’s so devastating—not just his talent and voice, but the memory of it, the memories it brings back. it’s an ancient song, almost a spell, that can heal the seasons.

hades and persephone hold each other close, nuzzling almost, and eurydice faces orpheus, and for a second u think it’s going to be ok because eurydice is so joyful and persephone and hades have healed. o & e  think they’re gonna leave. they think everybody can leave.

but nope, hades can’t have that. damned if he does, damned if he don’t—so he sets the test for orpheus, but u really get the sense that he’s not doing it from a sense of cruelty any more. it almost pains him to do this shit. but the rivet of steel in his character won’t let himself become king of nothing.

hermes presents the challenge: ‘ive got good news, and bad.’ orpheus keeps asking hermes if it’s a trick; hermes keeps saying it’s a test, a trial. (it’s really a TRAGEDY.)

persephone is wooed by the fact that hades even let them try.

ugh, doubt comes in is. devastating. every single person in the audience audibly gasped—u FELT the air leave the room—when he turned around. we all genuinely believed it would end differently this time. we thought it would. i knew it was coming and i still was DEVASTATED.

eurydice is, too. she started as the doubter, and she had so much BELIEF they were gonna get out of this. ‘it’s you—it’s me—’ she says. she’s already sinking through the trap. fuckin hell, they were on the last few steps. i’m still fuckin emotional about it

orpheus just crashes to the edge of the trap, staring down into the abyss. hermes is singing, softly, about how it’s an old song—it’s an old tale—it’s a tragedy. and then he roars—in a way that cheers me up—WE’RE GONNA SING IT AGAIN.

because that’s the power of it! it happened, it was horrible, but we’re going to SING about it—and maybe change the ending this time—the way orpheus tried to, when he sang his way to hades and sang his way to the stones. it’s the singing of the event that matters, that might matter.

and eurydice is back at the bar, wanting matches—orpheus is back at the bar, seeing her for the first time across the room—and the story goes on, like the seasons .fuckin incredible. everybody in the auditiorium now is tear-stained.

APPLAUSE APPLAUSE APPLAUSE

lasted for like.....seven minutes?? it took ages and the actors were just soaking it up, looking exhausted, because DAMN it is exhausting to chart anguish and joy and victory and determination and love in two hours and 25 minutes

and then hermes shushes the house—because of course he does—and amber gray leads the final toast. it’s acoustic—it sounded to me like she wasn’t even using her microphone? it wasn’t brash at all, just raw—and a simple, honest, kind of homespun way to end the show. and it finally ended, and we cheered one last time, and then we went home sobbing and shaking and wanting to do the whole damn thing again

it was great and the stagecraft was some of the best i’ve ever seen and i’ve literally felt maybe only 3 productions like this, where this emotional shit is actually sitting in your lungs, and u should go, the end

[cherryhobis]

see you next year ☆ min yoongi/reader

word count: 1479 ☆ gen rating ☆  ao3 mirror

Hello everybody! I’ve been pretty quiet today as I’ve been steadily chipping away at a birthday gift for the lovely @bloomsuga​! I know it’s a little late, but I hope you like it all the same. Happy birthday, homie!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

It happens every year.

 Every year, on this exact day, Min Yoongi finds himself in some godforsaken elevator, and in that elevator, he meets you. He’s gotten to know you somewhat, in the time he’s spent with you. You only gave him trivial things at first, like the type of weather you preferred and your favorite color, but eventually he learned that you’ve tried every flavor at Baskin-Robbins and why you’re not allowed to drive your friend’s car anymore.

You told him your stories and he told you his, each time with a bit less detail, if only to see what you’d fill into the blanks he’d left you. You remembered something once. Red. The color of his shirt when he’d snagged the answers to a quiz from his teacher’s desk in middle school. It was a lame story, and Yoongi got caught at the end, but he told you that one for a while because you laughed lightheartedly at his plight and left the exchange with a smile on your face.

He’s on the elevator early today, leaning against the railing with the buttons in arm’s reach. Phone in hand and mask pulled beneath his chin, Yoongi waits patiently for you to arrive in the place you’re both so destined to meet. Or rather, he waits as patiently as he can. You’re not due for another five minutes and he’s already ridden to every floor twice. As it turns out, the novelty of having pressed every button wears off by the third floor, but by the time Yoongi had realized that, he figured he may as well accept his fate.

 It’s 3:30 on the nose when you show up, searching through an open backpack slung awkwardly over your shoulder with your phone hovering above it as a flashlight. You’re sporting that tired-but-not-willing-to-show-it look he’s come to expect from you, though today you’re wearing it exceptionally well in the form of blue jeans and a lightweight hoodie.

And, you’re wearing the button he gave you.

 “Top floor, please,” you say to him as you board, finding whatever it was you were looking for and placing it into a pocket at the front of your bag.

Yoongi looks at you, observing you for just a moment, before pressing the button.

 There’s a round button pinned to your chest, the pearlescent blue shimmering against the pink fabric it rests upon. He notes it’s the same one he gave you a few cycles ago, right down to the teeny bit of sticker residue at the edge that you never bothered getting rid of.

 It’s a few years old now, with faint wear and tear etched into its surface, but it undoubtedly looks brand new to you. It always does.

 “Happy birthday,” he tells you, tapping his chest referentially when you look at him with mild concern. Yoongi remembers not-so-fondly the year when his well wishes had scared you out of your wits—you’d armed yourself with a ballpoint pen and told him you weren’t afraid to use it. The year after that, he said nothing of the sort and bade you a good day, but he left you with a single breadcrumb the year after: the birthday button.

 “Thanks, Yoongi.” You respond, catching him quite off guard. Ice runs through his veins at the sound of his name – when did you start remembering? You’re usually bouncy, or distracted, but now you’re smug, almost, and you know who he is.

 You tilt your head at him, ponytail swaying slightly in its scrunchie. “How long have I known you?”

Correction: you sort of know who he is.

 *

 It takes a bit of convincing that he’s neither crazy nor stalking you, but eventually Yoongi whittles down your encounters into barebones detail that you accept with a steady nod. From what you can remember – and it’s very little – you once tried breaking the loop by leaving your phone with him, but despite your careful assurance that he’d had it tucked away, it somehow reappeared in your pocket once the two of you separated. It was frustrating for both you and him, though your feelings registered as more of a dull throb of forgetfulness than the roaring upset Yoongi had felt.

 “I remember every single time I’ve met you,” he tells you. “It was ridiculously humid one year and you’d spent half the ride up trying to brush it into submission.”

Something about his story feels familiar enough to laugh at – something about not having a hair tie the whole time? – So you do, and the sound makes Yoongi regard you with a measured softness.

 You decide you like how it feels.

 *

 It’s after a hard think that you come up with a solution, excited and childlike as you fish out your phone. “Gimme your number! I’ll call you once I get off and this should all be over, yeah?” hope tints your voice and it’s almost too much for Yoongi to handle.

 “Can’t.” he says, stretching a sudden tension from his muscles. The black of his t-shirt rides up a little as he does, revealing a little sliver of tummy that’s got you biting back a grin. “We’ve tried. It’s like some weird eraser passes over you as soon as you leave this damn thing.” You flick your gaze up to find his eyes trained on you, a knowing smirk at the corner of his lip.

Embarrassment hues your cheeks, but instead of addressing whatever moment the two of you had, you reroute to the dilemma at hand. Your floor’s just a few stops away.

“Question.”

“Answer.”

“Have we ever tried the emergency stop?”

 Yoongi’s smirk morphs into a pensive expression, before finally falling into a surprised little ‘o’. “No,” he says in pure surprise. “No we have not.” Though you laugh, you gesture somewhat impatiently to the elevator panel. You’ve only got so much time.

Quickly, and with probably a little too much force, Yoongi slams his thumb into the emergency stop and steels himself as the elevator whines its way into a slow, squeaky stop. Wincing through the noise, you wonder halfheartedly if one of you is destined to grease the mechanisms, and if the weird time warp is punishment for shirking your duties – a ridiculous notion you find yourself making a mental note of to bring up later.

 “So.” Yoongi says, turning to you. “What now?”

You shrug, slipping your bag off your shoulders and sitting cross-legged on the floor. “We wait. What time do I usually leave?”

 Yoongi joins you on the floor, back against the wall. “Around 3:45. It’s a slow elevator.”

 You check the time with a quick glance at your phone, worrying your lip after. “It’s almost four o’clock. That’s… that’s a good sign, right?”

 Yoongi nods, idly mussing up his hair. “I’d say so. How long you wanna stay in here? My calendar’s all clear for today.” Like it always is.

 “Maybe a couple hours, just to be on the safe side. I wanna remember you for real this time.”

 “Ditto. I mean, I already remember all the stuff you’ve told me, but like. I’d like you to know I exist.”

“I getcha. We should go out after. Grab a bite to eat or somethin’.”

 Yoongi quirks a brow. “You mean like a date?”

“As a matter of fact, Min Yoongi, it’s my birthday,” you say, gesturing dramatically to the button adorning your hoodie. “I’d like to go out and celebrate. But, if your birthday gift for me happens to be a date, I wouldn’t object.”

 The way you’re batting your eyes at him can only be interpreted as humorous, but regardless, Yoongi finds his heart skipping a beat. “Where would you want to go? Hypothetically speaking.”

 You waste no time in responding. “Hypothetically? Home. I just want a big bowl of cereal and a nap. You’re more than welcome to come over and nap with me. I’ve got really cozy blankets.”

 Yoongi pouts a bit, mulling the offer over. He’d never really planned that you’d get this far. “A nap sounds nice. But be warned, I talk in my sleep.”

 “I can handle that.”

 *

 Nervousness keeps you there as six o’clock turns into seven, and as seven blurs into midnight.  You’re tired, and your muscles ache like hell from being in such a confined space, but you will the feeling back into your limbs just long enough to carry you to bed.

It’s a long bus ride home, but Yoongi embarks on the journey with you, and he carries your backpack for you on the short walk to your building.

Inside, you kick off your shoes and direct him to your bedroom, neither of you bothering to shuck off your jeans before you climb into bed.

In the morning, you will see if he’s still there.

 *

 In the morning, you wake up in his arms.

[hypnokinkwithmrdream]

Down We Go With Trevor Sharp

(prompted by Gleeful Abandon’s MCStory Premise Generator) 

(I am taking the opportunity to do quick mc porn writing using the excellent and weird contraption Gleeful Abandon (GleefulAbandon@Twitter) has created. These are relatively unedited in the tradition of @hypno-sandwich‘s 20 minute porn)

As you clicked the link to Trevor Sharp’s “SharpNews” feed, the familiar green video image opened up, the nightvision camera that Trevor always used for his more clandestine missions. His deep smooth voice already narrating his actions softly. As the view shifted to a storm door, typical in every way, you could see his hands grabbing the handles.

“Literally on the threshold of the greatest discovery mankind has made, this is the moment we have all been waiting for.”

The doors opened easily, leading to steps seemingly carved into the bedrock itself, steps that lead down so far that there was no sign of the bottom. As Trevor quietly stepped down into the earth, he looked from side to side, examining any sign of construction, but it was as if the walls were perfectly smooth, each step precisely shaped.

“Unnaturally smooth. I don’t know if you can hear it but there is a humming. Maybe just some sort of vibration from the ground.”

The humming became both more audible as Trevor went further, but it was overshadowed by strange noises from below. A clapping sound, and then strange high pitched speech, indecipherable. It would repeat intermittently.

“They are talking. Scientists will be studying these recordings in hope of translating the unknown language of these interstellar invaders.”

The moment that Trevor reached the bottom of the stairs, a flare of light blinded the camera until he switched it to regular mode.

“Ow, that hurt, but as you can see this is a well lit..”

“Hi Trevyyyyy!!!”

The camera shook in shock and focused on a woman sitting at a plain metal table with a strange glowing ball that seemed to hover a bit above the surface. All of a sudden it jiggled and bounced and a big smiling face winked from its surface before it went back to normal. The woman clapped her hands happily and laughed in a ridiculously childlike giggle.

“Barbara! Damn it... I mean... Well I see you have accidentally stumbled upon this discovery.”

“Trevy! You came! Come play!!!”

The women looked like Barbara Bright, but her normally rich and serious voice was now high pitched and silly. She started to stand up but almost immediately the little ball smiled at her again and she giggled and clapped like a one year old.

“What is going on here, Barbara. You told me you had a lead in Tulsa...”

“Tulsa is a funny word. Tulsatulsatulsatul sa tul sa.” She continued to babble finally distracted again by the ball.

Trevor whispered, “What is that thing, Bright?”

“It is my bouncy bounce bounce friend, duh!”

Trevor searched around the room, seeing no sign of a door, and infact the door he entered through was gone. The soft humming continued and felt somewhat reassuring, a sign that there was something mechanical somewhere. The room itself was uncluttered, but he noticed a satchel laying at the far wall. As he approached it, he began to slow down.

“This is strange, but I am not worried. I know that we are safe, it is just a matter of figuring out how to move forward, to get...”

He picked up the satchel and found the notebook and video camera of his competitor in news hunting. The camera was still on and as he viewed the footage, he could see nothing unusual. Once Barbara reached this wall she had put her bag down to try and examine something she saw, but the camera did not pick up.

Barbara’s voice came from the small speaker “It was there, for a moment, a symbol, or picture. I don’t know. I can tell you this, that since I have entered this room I have felt sure that I am finally where I need to be. This is amazing, and I know we are on the edge of um... like... that humming just is so nice, don’t you think? I mean it is like a little bit of a vibrating.. Well never mind. I am... it does feel good. I really should sit down. Um. Oh look what is that it is a ball.

Her voice faded away leaving nothing but the sound of the humming.

Trevor laughed and looked back towards the table before a flash of light from the wall distracted him.

“I definitely saw something, a picture or some sort of... Is it warm in here. Mmm it is warm. Too much clothing.”

As he walked back towards Barbara, she squeeled “Trevy why are you taking off your clothing? Oooh Barbie likee” The sound of clapping and her giggling faded slightly as the camera fell to the ground along with the jacket, pants and nightvision goggles Trevor was wearing. The camera now sideways showed him in nothing but his blue boxer briefs walking to the chair that you didn’t remember from when you first saw the table. The ball bounced and Trevor giggled childishly.

A few moments later, both reporters now clapping and giggling, Barbara Bright now discarding her blouse and sliding out of her slacks, throwing her boots to the side. “Too hot. Nudienudienude,” the humming became louder. It almost felt like a voice.

Then there were four of them. They were like shimmers and then the entire room changed. Transparent windows that didn’t seem like glass but some sort of metallic liquid shimmered showing scenes of humans in various sexual poses. At first it looked as if they were manikins but as you stared in horror, it became apparent that they were simply moving very slowly. As you watched, Barbara and Trevor were lead to an empty one, that suddenly took on the look of a high school girls bedroom. Barbara giggled at the pink wall paper, while Trevor slid his underwear off. Barbara giggled and then slipped her panties off and layed back into the bed. The shimmers seemed to move about them, and as they did the two of them began to fuck, with each stroke slowing them down until the shimmers seemed to glow at once.

Barbara’s face became nearly frozen, mouth open, eyes wide, as Trevor very very slowly pounded away. It was as if they were in a different time dimension. The shimmers moved out of the diorama and approached the camera, forming into a symbol. For a moment you had a flash of understanding. The two reporters now believed they were a high school couple sneaking an afternoon fuck while the house was empty, playing hooky and losing their virginity. They would be doing this for a very long time, and the shimmers would feed off the sexual energy, the emotional energy. The competitive dynamic between the two once intelligent reporters was now converted into nearly animal lust of rutting teenagers, their previous lives wiped away, replaced by the minimal amount of conscious necessary to allow their perpetual lust.

Even as this realization flashes into your mind another one slowly becomes apparent, that you will forget you saw this, and forget Trevor Sharp and Barbara Bright. Instead you will look at the pornographic pictures and masturbate, generating more energy for the shimmering beings. The thought of it seems comforting as the hum throbs in you. You know you cannot resist so why bother. Once you orgasm you won’t ever think about it again.

(Prompt: An alien uses subliminal messaging to make two nosy reporters dumb and they're posed and put on display.)  

@diaryofasnowflake, @the-perfect-monster, @h-sleepingirl, @wildnutmeg, @zanydanger

[littlelovelyspiderling]

A Wonderful, Incredible, Imperfect Human Being

Thanks @a-bad-actor for this adorable prompt!! Hope you enjoy it!

Peter feels useless, like he’s failing everyone he cares about. While trying to comfort the kid, Tony Stark discovers the perfect way to cheer him up.

word count: 2,350

“You okay, Pete?”

When the kid didn’t answer him, Tony gave his shoulder a shake. Peter started, nearly knocking his web-shooters to the floor, and looked up at him.

“Huh? What?”

“Are you okay?” he asked again. “You seem, I don’t know, distracted. Tired. Less bouncy and hyperactive than normal.” He patted his head. “I thought you were excited about this. You’re the one who wasn’t satisfied with my work and decided you just had to add your own upgrades to your web-shooters, remember?”

Peter looked stung by his words, which surprised him. He turned back to the devices on the table, his expression clouding over.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry.” He fiddled absentmindedly with the triggers. “Just not really feeling it today.”

Not really feeling it today. By now Tony knew that was code for something very bad. He had not, however, learned the perfect approach to situations like this just yet. The whole ‘mentoring-a-super-powered-protege-but-also-having-to-deal-with-him-being-a-15-year-old-teenager’ was still a bit of a gray area for him, with new challenges to face around every corner. Peter Parker was an amazingly smart and hard-working mentee, but he was still a kid. A kid in high school. That was the part that always tripped Stark up.

But he cared for the young hero. Tony hated seeing him down in the dumps. So, ever since half the universe had disintegrated then come back to life, Stark had tasked himself to do what he could to lift Peter’s spirits whenever they were dampened, despite how out of character it felt. He stood beside him, tilting his head to the side.

“Is there…a reason for that?” he asked cautiously. Peter swallowed, not looking up from the table.

“I…” he began. He rubbed at his forearm and bit his lip. “I don’t know. I’ve just been feeling kind of useless lately.”

“Useless?” Tony repeated. “A kid that can climb walls and write a research paper on thermonuclear astrophysics like it’s fourth grade science—useless?”

“I forgot Ned’s birthday,” he said, voice breaking. He bent his head towards the ground. “I’ve missed four Decathlon practices in the past two months. I let a stupid rookie burglar get away last night after he hurt two boys. May asked me to get groceries on Tuesday, but I forgot the milk. I can’t even pick up groceries right, Mr. Stark. I feel like I’m failing everybody I care about. I’m useless. I keep disappointing all the people who depend on me, and I don’t know what to…I can’t…”

Tears welled in his eyes. He breathed in sharp, raspy breaths. Tony felt his heart split in two. These were the times when he was supposed to have the right answer, the perfect thing to say to make everything better. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders, guiding him out of the stool.

“Hey, come here. Come on.”

Sniffling, Peter slid out of the seat. He let Stark walk him to the couch by the wall, hating himself for crying in front of his idol, hating himself for coming up short on all of his responsibilities, hating himself for not being enough. He sat, and Tony sat beside him, resting a palm on his back.

“Listen to me, okay?” Peter looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes, tears slipping down his cheeks. “You, Mr. Parker, are an amazing little person. You’ve got more goodness and bravery in you than all of the Avengers combined, and the biggest heart for helping others I’ve ever seen.”  After a small hesitation, he started running his hand up and down his back, trying his best to calm the troubled teen. “But even the greatest of heroes aren’t perfect. You know that. Everybody fails, especially after going through everything you’ve dealt with. And if the people you care about can’t forgive you for making a few mistakes, then they don’t deserve you.”

Peter dropped his gaze, burning with a mixture of shame and gratitude, wiping messily at his eyes.

“Don’t ever call yourself useless, Peter. Nobody who knows you ever thinks that. You are a wonderful, incredible, imperfect human being. Own the mistakes you make, learn from them, and move on. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said quietly. He combed a hand through his hair, puffing out his cheeks. “I—I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.”

“Don’t apologize,” Tony insisted. “I get it. It’s tough.”

“It’s just weirder now, after everything. I feel so out of sync with the world. Stuff that used to come so naturally to me now just—”

Out of nowhere, Peter flinched, jolting upright, as if he’d been electrocuted. Tony blinked in surprise.

“Whoa, what’s wrong?” he asked, moving his hand to his shoulder. “You just jumped, like, a foot off the couch.”

Peter shook his head, looking a tad startled. “N-nothing, nothing, sorry.” He rolled his shoulders and arched his spine, as if he had a crick in his back. “Just, um, a little sore.”

“Did you take a big hit recently?” Stark applied gentle pressure to his shoulder blades, feeling for any bumps or knots. “I have a masseuse lady who can turn all your muscles to jelly. She’s approved by every Avenger except Banner, but he claims massages make him anxious.”

“No, that’s okay,” Peter said, jerking away from his touch. “I just need to stretch more.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Why are you so twitchy all of sudden? Am I hurting you? Where were you hit?” He gave his lower back a small squeeze, and Peter squeaked.

“Stohop it!” he yelped, hopping to his feet. “I’m—I’m fine, okay?”

“Well obviously you’re not. What’s your problem?”

A hint of pink rose in the young hero’s cheeks. “I just—I don’t like people touching my back is all. It feels…weird.”

“Weird? Weird how?”

Peter shrugged, crossing his arms. “I…I don’t know. Weird. I can’t explain it. It’s no big deal.”

Tony studied the kid amusedly, the way he was staring off to the side and flushing redder and redder and guarding himself with both arms. Gradually, the pieces clicked together in his mind.

“Weird like you’re ticklish?” he inquired. Peter looked up sharply, eyes flashing wide.

“What?” he stammered. “Oh, n-no, not like that. Something else. Definitely something else.”

“So you’re not ticklish?” Tony said. After a tiny pause, Peter shook his head. Tony smiled.

“Well, then this certainly is peculiar.” He stood from the couch, causing the kid to wince back just barely. “But don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Peter blinked. “The bottom of what?” he asked, pressing his arms a little bit tighter to chest.

“Of what’s wrong with your back, of course.” Tony reached out and gripped Peter’s shoulder. “We have to figure out what’s making it feel weird so we can fix it.”

The red in his cheeks bled into his ears. “No. We really don’t. I’m fine, Mr. Stark.”

“But something could be seriously wrong.” he insisted. He turned him around. “Making peace with yourself means admitting that you have flaws. And then telling others so they can help you overcome them. I know this seems small, but trust me: taking some time to improve something little about yourself is a great first step towards overall happiness.”

“Mr. Stark…” Peter protested sheepishly, but it was too late. Tony started rubbing all over his back, squeezing his shoulders and sides, causing him to cringe.

“Now, be honest with me, kid: what feels weird and why?”

A huge bubble of giggles immediately swelled inside his throat. Peter pursed his lips and held his eyes shut, fighting the urge to wrench away.

“Ihit…f-feels reheally…” A squeal escaped him when Stark tweaked his hip. He spun around before he could stop himself, batting his hands away. “Quihit it!”

“Peter, I’m trying to help you,” Tony huffed impatiently, but by now the facade was long broken. A mischievous flicker gleamed in his eyes, and a playful smirk pulled at his lips. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

The two were at a standoff. Peter stood frozen a moment longer before bolting in the opposite direction. Strangely, Tony anticipated this. He snagged his arm before he could escape, yanking him back and catching him around the middle. High-pitched giggles started pouring from the kid’s lips before Stark even laid a finger on him, which he thought was quite adorable.

“Nohoho! Mr. Stahark! Plehease don’t!” He kicked and shrieked like a little kid. Tony snorted.

“Nobody solves their problems by running away from them, Peter.” He dumped the young hero on the couch, curling his hands into claws. “You’ve got to learn to face them head-on.”

With that, Tony pounced on him, scurrying his fingers up and down the kid’s sides. Immediately, Peter burst into hysterical laughter, scrunching into a ball and squirming like crazy. Stark chuckled along with the giggly teen, endeared by his childlike response. He never knew Spider-Man was so ticklish, and now he was curious how he didn’t realize it sooner.

“Wahahahait! Plehehease! Ahahahaha!” He bucked and twitched and laughed helplessly, burying his face between the cushions.

“I’m confused here, Pete,” Stark said, squeezing his ribs and poking at his underarms. “I thought you said you weren’t ticklish. If being ticklish isn’t what’s causing this, what else could it be?”

“Stohohahahap it!” he squealed, voice muffled. The teasing only made him blush more.

“But look how happy you are. This is the exact kind of cheering up you need!” Tony changed his approach, wrapping both hands around the kid’s scrawny torso and drilling his entire midsection with tickles. Peter screeched, trying desperately to guard himself, but failing miserably.

“Ehehehahahaha shihihihihit!” he cried, quaking with laughter. If the embarrassment didn’t kill him, the unstoppable giggling certainly would. “Oh gohohohod, ohokahahay! You wihihihihihin, Mr. Stahahahark! I’m tihihihihicklish! Now stohohohahahahap it! Pleasepleasepleaseplehehehehehehehease!”

Tony chuckled. “Really? You think so? No way!” He shoved his hands through the kid’s defenses and scribbled his fingers against his belly. “I can’t believe you lied to me, after all I’ve done to brighten your mood. Now you’re really gonna get it.”

Peter rolled on to his side, laughing wildly. “Nohohohohaha! I tohohohold the truhuhuth! You’re suhupposed to lehehet me gohohahahahAHAHAHAHA!”

The kid’s frantic movements had left him vulnerable, and Stark made him pay for it. He snaked a hand up his shirt and started clawing at his defenseless tummy and sides, sending Peter into an instant frenzy. He thrashed and squirmed, grappling at Tony’s wrist, shrieking with laughter, which only exposed more of his tickle spots to his mentor’s evils fingers. Stark liked being playful with the kid. It brought out sides of both of them that had grown increasingly scarce.

“AHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHAHAHAHA! EHEHEHAHAHAHA!” When Tony slipped his other hand up to his armpit, Peter was pretty much down for. All he could do was laugh and twitch, face beat-red and eyes brimming with tears.

“I’ll stop on one condition,” Stark said, wrecking the kid with the most sinister tickle tactics he knew, chuckling at how easy it was to render him a giggly, helpless blob. “I want you to say, out loud, that you’re a wonderful, incredible, imperfect human being who deserves all the happiness in the world. Say that, and I’ll stop.”

Peter laughed and squeaked, hiccups jumping from his lips and wracking his entire frame. He shook his head, eyes squeezed shut. “I C-CAHAHAHAHAN’T!  PLEHEHEHEHEASE! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Tony shrugged. “Well, then I guess I’m never stopping. This is your life now, kid.” He switched between tickling every one of Peter’s ribs and grinding his knuckles into his entire ribcage. The kid was worn into giggly shambles. His entire body was tinted pink.

“AHAHAHAHAAA HEHEHEHEHELP!” he pleaded. “OHOHOKAHAHAY AHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHIHI’M EHEHAHAHA WAHAHANDERFUHUHUHAHAHAHA!” He whipped his head from side to side, every word sputtering from his lips swallowed up by uncontrollable laughter. This was actual torture.

“You’ve got this! You can do it!” Stark moved his tickle attack back down to his sides, teasing them with no less enthusiasm but knowing that if he stayed on Peter’s more ticklish spots, the poor kid might never get the words out. Peter jumped and yelped at his every touch like his fingers were full of sparks.

“SHUHUHUHUT UHUHUHUP!” he laughed. “O-OHOKAHAY, I—IHIHIHIHI’M AHA WAHAHAHANDERFUHUHUL IHIHIHIMPERFECT THIHIHIHIHING WHOOHOO HAHAHAS—WHOOHOO WAHAHAHANTS—WAHAHAHAHAIT—THEEHEE WOHOHOHORLD’S HAHAHAHAHAPPINEHESS, OR—?” Peter pealed into a fit of delirious giggling. “OHOHO GOHOHAHAHAHAD! I CAHAHAHAN’T REMEHEHEHEMBER! EHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Tony smiled at the winded teenager. “Close enough,” he said. For the finale, right before letting him off the hook, Stark pulled up his shirt and blew a big, fat, monstrous raspberry into his exposed tummy. Peter all but screamed, flailing like a fish out of water, wrenching away and burrowing deep into the corner of the couch. He continued to giggle long after Tony had stopped tickling him.

“You know, I told you before that you’re never useless. But we both have to admit—tickling kinda makes you a little bit useless. You go from a big strong superhero to a puddle of giggles in seconds.” He patted his head, chuckling softly. “But in every other aspect, you’re anything but useless. I hope you know that. Except cooking. Your aunt says you suck at that, too.”

“Ihihi can’t breheheheathe…” Peter wheezed, flopping on to his back. “Ugh. Y-you’re ehehehevil, Mr. Stark…”

Tony snapped his fingers. “Oh, good point. If I ever want you to stay away from a top-tier bad guy, I’ll make sure to to tell them your weakness to ensure you steer clear of them.” He stood and poked him in the side to punctuate his threat, making the kid flinch and squeal. “See? You’re so useful. Keep up the great work, bud. I’ll be in the lab if you need me.”

Stark left the room, working for thirty minutes. For that whole chunk of time, the kid never showed. Perhaps he was mad at him. When Tony went back up to check on Peter, he was in the exact same spot he had left him. Bundled up on the couch, knees pulled to his chest, except now he was sleeping. He walked up to him, watching his chest rise and fall with slow, steady breaths, a smile lifting the corners of his lips.

Peter Parker, everyone. A wonderful, incredible, perfect human being.

[tmarie82]

Best Christmas Ever

Pairing: Damien x MC (Camille Park)

Book: Perfect Match (Future)

Word Count: ~2,300

Rating:  PG

Author’s Note:  Camille Park is definitely my spirit animal … the girl loves the holidays, enjoys a good pun and she has excellent taste in Damien men.  This is a little fluffy holiday fic that also documents a very special occasion for Damien and Cami.  I hope you enjoy. 😚

This also is my first submission for @dancetothestoriesinyoursoul’s wonderful idea for Fluffy Friday and fulfills a very old fic request.

Please let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list.  You can find all of my fics in my Masterlist on my homepage.

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“A little to the left … no, too far!” Camille spouted out commands to her live-in boyfriend, eliciting a muffled groan of frustration from Damien as he adjusted the tree on its base in their tiny New York apartment living room.  “Okay, steady … perfect!” Camille bounced up and down excitedly clapping her hands when Damien shifted the tree to just the right angle, centering it perfectly in the corner of their soon-to-be extremely festive room.  “Ah, it looks great, D!”  She sidled up against his side when he finally stood upright to observe his handiwork, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he admired the seven-foot fir tree he’d just lugged up three flights of stairs.  

“Yeah, it doesn’t look half bad.”  He released a long exhale of relief, thankful to finally have a moment to relax after their strenuous morning.  Although it was still November, Camille always insisted on beginning their Christmas preparations on the Saturday following Thanksgiving.  So the pair had woken up at 6am to drive to the Christmas tree lot just outside the city (thankfully making a pit stop at the coffee shop to get caffeine for the extremely groggy non-morning person Damien first), then spent over an hour marching up and down the rows of freshly delivered fir trees until Cami found the “perfect one.”  After trekking back into the city with the tree fastened to the top of Damien’s car Griswold-family-style, carrying it up to their apartment (with little help from the petite Camille, but don’t tell her that!), then twenty minutes of situating the tree in their living room … well, it wasn’t even lunch time yet and Damien was already exhausted.  While he thought Camille’s extreme affinity for the holiday season was adorable, he sometimes missed the days when he had been able to enjoy her holiday spirit as an observer and not a key contributor.  

“Yes, it really does …” Camille beamed up at the lush green tree, a wide smile of childlike awe spread across her face, “just think how gorgeous it’s gonna look after you string the lights on it!”

“Yeah, I bet it will be- wait, what?!?  After I string the lights?”  Damien shook his head in dismay as he realized what Camille had just said.  “Why am I stringing the lights?”

“Well I have to go bake the gingerbread to make the gingerbread house, so … “ Camille gave him a nonchalant look and a shrug, before jutting out a hip and tilting her head defiantly.  “Unless you’d like to do the baking …” she asked in a mocking tone.

Damien grumbled again, his face falling into a scowl. “No … I’ll do it.”  He let out a long sigh, turning to go retrieve the box of twinkling lights from the top shelf in their hall closet.  He returned a few minutes later, arms filled with a worn cardboard box full of Christmas lights, to an empty room.  The sounds of Camille clanking around in the kitchen signaled to him that he was officially on his own in this endeavor.  He sighed before opening the box of lights, begrudgingly pulling out a tangled mass of wires and bulbs.   “Cami?”  He called to the kitchen, studying the jumbled mess with a frown.  She poked her head around the corner as she tied an apron around her waist, eyebrows raised in question.  “Check out this tangled mess!  Do I really have to do the lights today?  I mean, what’s the rush?”  He dangled the ball of wires and chaos in her direction, making his most pathetic pleading face at her.

Camille grunted and stomped over to where her boyfriend was whining, grabbing the lights from him and quickly weaving them untangled with her tiny hands.  After a few short minutes, she handed him back rows of neatly folded string lights with a satisfied look on her face, then cocked her hip and folded her arms across her chest.  “Of course we need to do the lights today, Damien.  You can’t half-ass Christmas!  Now stop complaining and get to work so we can actually enjoy this, you curmudgeon!!!”  

Damien’s eyes widened at his girlfriend’s playful outburst.  “Sorry, a Kermit the wha???”

Cami chuckled, leaning forward while waggling a finger at him before poking him in the chest.  “I said a curmudgeon!  Cur-mudg-eon.” She repeated, exaggeratedly slow.  “You know, a huge grump, a crusty old miser … like the Grinch.  Do you want to be a grinch, D?”  She quirked her brows at him, waiting for his reply with a coy smirk on her lips.

“Uhhhh …” Damien fumbled, dropping his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.  “No, I guess not.”  

“Good.”  Cami replied in a sing-song voice, a smug smile pulling at her lips.  She raised up on her tip-toes and placed a single kiss to his cheek with a loud smack.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to go finish this gingerbread while you work on the lights.”  She turned on her heel and skipped back to the kitchen.

Damien watched as the bouncy blonde sashayed away, unable to fight the triumphant smirk tugging the corners of his mouth upwards.  “Curmudgeon, indeed.”  He mumbled with a low chuckle before turning back to the task at hand.

~~~

An hour and a half, two beers and a tuna fish sandwich later, Damien stood back to survey the glistening Christmas tree.  Despite the rocky start, the time had surprisingly flown by quicker than he’d expected.  It definitely helped that Cami had started busting out lyrics to her favorite Christmas tunes, singing along to the music and swaying to the rhythm as she stirred and rolled and then proceed to clean up her gingerbread.  The beer helped too, but the occasional peek of his giddy holiday-loving girlfriend in the kitchen gave him a happy sense of pride in his work.  Damn if that woman didn’t bring out the goofy side of him … and make him enjoy it along the way.

He heard the clatter of a pan and slamming of the oven door in the background before the soft footsteps approached.  “Oh wow …” he heard Camille murmur as she came up behind him, tucking her arm into his as she stared at the tree.  “Great job, Detective … are you ready to decorate now?”

Damien groaned audibly, glancing over his shoulder to the couch calling his name.  “I’m guessing that can’t wait until tomorrow?”

“Damien …” Camille’s voice dipped as she gave him a look.  The look.

“Alright, alright … I kind of figured.”  He exhaled a long sigh.  “I went ahead and grabbed all the ornaments anyway, just in case.”  

“See, you know the routine.  But nice try anyway.”  Camille gave him a quick peck on the cheek and a wink before she started digging through the boxes of ornaments sitting on the coffee table.  

“You know, I think I’m gonna need another beer for this.”  Damien tried to escape to the kitchen swiftly, but was caught by a hand on his forearm before he could make it.

“Absolutely not … I got us some egg nog.  You can’t drink beer while you trim the Christmas tree.”

“But Cami-“ Damien started to argue.

“And I got you a big bottle of spiced rum to go with it.”  Camille gave him a knowing grin.  

Damien chuckled deep in his throat, nodding his head in assent.  “Fine, deal … it’s almost like you know me or something.”

The pair worked together to hang all their ornaments, Camille continuing to sing along to the Christmas carols and both of them drinking several glasses of egg nog along the way.  By the end of their decorating, they were both feeling the holiday spirit in more ways than one.  After hanging the last ornament, Camille took a step back and nestled into Damien’s arms as they gave their finished product a once-over.  She let out a breath slowly, her jaw opened wide in amazement.  “D, it looks amazing!”

Damien grinned proudly as he glanced over to her beside him, his heart warming at the sight of her eyes sparkling as they reflected the lights.  “Yeah … not bad if I do say so myself.  But I think we can do better.”

Cami furrowed her brow in confusion and looked over to him.  “What?  What are you talking about?  It looks great.”

He gave her an amused look, gesturing towards the top of the tree, bare and unadorned.  “You forgot the best part, didn’t you?”  

Her mouth formed a tight “O” as it dawned on her.  “Of course, the star!  Will you help me put it on?”  She scurried over to the last remaining box, Damien’s eyes following intently as she delicately unwrapped the layers of tissue paper.  When she reached the last layer and tugged it away, delving her hand into the box- “Hhh!”  she gasped, tugging her hand away quickly as if frightened.  She stood still for a moment, her gaze never leaving the contents hidden in the shadows of the box.  Finally, she dipped her hand back in and curled her fingers around the tiny blue velvet box, holding it precariously in the palm of her hand as she swiveled to face him.  “Damien?”  Her eyes, filled with hope and shock and a joy unlike anything he’d ever seen before, flitted upwards to meet his.

Damien stepped forward nervously, his heart beating loudly in his chest.  He had pictured this moment so many times in his mind, never a doubt in his mind since the first moment his lips had met hers almost two years ago … but now that it was here, now that it was actually happening, it was more intense than he could have imagined.  “I hope you like it.”  That was all he could think to say as he reached into her hand to grip the small box, prying open the lid to expose a modest engagement ring.  

Camille didn’t respond, just exhaled softly while she processed the gravity of this moment.  She studied the ring, a simple princess cut solitaire on a white gold band embedded with tiny diamonds along the sides … perfectly classic, perfectly her, perfectly them.  “Damien, I … I …” she shook her head, trying to focus her fleeting thoughts until one obscure thought nestled into her conscious mind.  “But, you were being such a grump today?” She asked quizzically, still unsure how this day had taken such a turn.  

Damien’s head fell back as he laughed, a deep rumbling laugh that made Camille giggle in return.  “Yes, well … I had to keep you on your toes, you know.  I wanted this to be a surprise.”  He grinned wide, relieved to see a relaxed smile on her face.

“You definitely surprised me!” She chuckled, nudging him roughly on the shoulder.  “And here I was giving you shit about being a curmudgeon!”

Damien caught her hand and pulled her close, wrapping his other arm around her lower back.  “Well I guess now you’ll just have to call me Curmudgeon Claus …” he smirked and dipped his head, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss.  Camille snaked one hand around his neck, lacing her fingers in his hair as the other one held tightly to the blue velvet box nestled between them.

Damien stopped mid-kiss, arching his neck to peer down at her face.  “So was that a yes?”

Camille giggled happily, pulling him down to press his forehead against hers, her eyes closed as she basked in the beauty of this moment.  “I don’t think I ever heard a question.”

Damien guffawed, stepping back with an embarrassed smile on his face as he ran his hand across his jaw.  “Right, you’re right.”  He reached down to grasp the box from her hand, retrieving the ring between his thumb and index finger before tucking the box in his pocket.  He stepped forward and held the ring directly in front of her face, ducking his head to gaze into her eyes and tracing her cheekbone softly with the thumb of his other hand.  “Camille Park, I never in a million years thought I’d be lucky enough to find one person I’d want to spend the rest of my life with.  But when I met you, I knew I had met my match and I never wanted to let you go.  Will you do me the great honor of being my wife?”  

Camille placed her hand on top of his, nuzzling her face against the palm of his hand as the happy tears began welling in her eyes.  “Damien Nazario, there is nothing in this world that would make me happier than being your wife.”  She let out a gleeful sob and felt the tears begin falling down her cheeks as Damien released a relieved laugh.  They both watched in awe as he slid the ring onto her left hand, beaming at each other before he reached down to wrap his arms tightly around her in a warm embrace.  He picked her up and twirled her around, the joyous sound of their laughter mingling with the chords of “White Christmas” playing in the background.

When he finally set her down, after tucking a loose strand of blond hair behind her ear and gently pressing his lips to her temple, he leaned back to observe her basking in the afterglow.  “So what now?”

Camille shrugged, her light eyes dancing with glee.  “I don’t know, honestly. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.  But for now … “ she nodded towards the empty treetop, “I think you owe me a star and a boost.”

“Yes ma’am.”  Damien said with a wink.  It may still only be November, but this was already the best Christmas ever.

END

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