#let yourself be uncomfortable until you can figure out what is a real problem and what just squicks you out GOD

[windvexer]

dealing with a nonthreatening entity in your home, if you can't easily communicate with spirits

just how I'd do it, the flowchart I'd personally work with, UPG ahead, etc; take what you like and leave the rest behind.

Nonthreatening: An entity which hasn't harmed you or tried to harm you, or isn't an active threat to you or your household, even if they may have acted in unpleasant or disruptive ways.

Dealing with: Sorting out the situation so that you feel comfortable with what's going on.

This post is about resolving a spirit situation in your home that you're uncomfortable with. It's not a general guide on spirit work, and it's not a recommendation for how to treat all spirits in all situations.

Banishing should probably not be a first step when dealing with an unwanted/surprise/unexpected spirit, or learning that a spirit exists where you didn't expect to be one.

Ideally, for the diplomatic spirit worker who wants to be regarded well by the otherworlds, several other steps come first.

Decide what you'd ideally like to do

Ideally, do you want the spirit to leave completely?

Never interact with you or make its presence known?

Hang around as long as it doesn't bother room mates or pets?

Integrate into the household and be a spirit room mate?

Become a part of your spirit family?

Etc!

Not saying you'll get your wish but it's a good idea to sit down and figure yourself out before you go and start moderating the life of an entity.

Like if your actual feeling is, "I do not want this guy here and I won't be comfortable in my home unless he leaves," then don't set out on purpose to make the guy a spirit home and give him house rules. Skip to the endgame step of asking him to leave.

Check on wards and protections before you take action

Not trying to be an alarmist but every now and then a random guy ends up being a big jerk, and in that situation the preferable option is to have just checked up on what tools you have on hand.

If you can communicate with spirits

Talk it out 👍 you may have to make compromises, especially if you're working with Big Guys who have a say in things, but by and large I find that if you can make the spirit a nice little house in a place they like and some solid house rules, a lot of situations are going to be resolved real fast.

If things go tits up, banishing.

If you can't easily perceive/2-way communicate with spirits

When perception isn't easy/possible, take reasonable steps and wait to see what happens.

If the stuff that was bothering you is resolved, count that as a win 👍

If you're still encountering problems, take the next step; do this until you've exhausted all options, and then move to banishing.

When you take actions, clearly affirm your intentions and expectations. Do not invite open-ended conversations that you can't participate in.

🛑 "If this spirit house isn't suitable for you, please try to let me know. I'll see what I can do to change it."

✅ "I've made this spirit house for you. Please make use of it according to your desires, but move on to another property if it isn't to your liking."

Set or review house rules

This isn't a comprehensive guide, but all you've really got to do is write down a list of rules, ritually read it off, and then stick the list somewhere you won't lose it.

A lot of spirit problems can be resolved by establishing solid house rules

A lot of panic about powerful spirits and faulty wards can be resolved by fixing accidental loopholes

Get your rules lawyer friend to help troubleshoot

E.g., "uninvited spirits aren't welcome here." Is a spirit still uninvited if you carry it in while it's inside of an object? It can get a bit tedious but it's a miracle spirits can understand human language at all, much less the miles between what you actually desire to occur versus what gets codified.

If a new spirit arrives or behavior occurs that you think is against your house rules, review your rules to see if there could be a loophole. Then, 'set' them again by re-reading them in a ritual setting. During that time, specifically ask the spirit to stop its bothersome behavior.

Divination or consulting with other practitioner friends can really help troubleshoot house rules.

Popular house rules include things like:

Don't mess with my dreams or sleep

Don't scare or make yourself known to house members or pets

Never go into my bedroom

Don't interfere with my spells or ritual workings, even if you're trying to help or protect me

Wait for a little while and see if that resolves things.

Make the guy his own little house

A spirit bothering someone isn't always them just being mischievous. Active spirits who roam around the house bored as hell can accidentally make themselves known. And ordering a bored guy to never do anything fun isn't necessarily a recipe for a happy household.

Make the guy a nice little area with some things to enjoy, especially little fidget toys and shiny stuff, and invite him to dwell in that area and make use of the enjoyable things.

This doesn't need to be in the shape of an actual miniature house.

Crochet basket, thermos with the lid popped open, desk organizer, pile of little cloths, small box with or without a lid, old jar, plastic tub, books stacked to make a nice private corner, etc.

Include a soft bed, which can take the form of comfortable cloths or a nice little pillow you crochet, etc.

Include things the spirit might like or use, such as coins, a fidget spinner, a mini rubix cube, a sun catcher, etc.

Spice it up by decorating it all nicely and including pretty things, like a nice printed silk scarf, a paint job or facade on the container, or lovely objects placed nearby.

Focus on privacy - give the guy somewhere to go so he can relax and unwind, and not constantly be bothered by people.

Most vitally, ensure that the spirit house won't be disrupted. Don't place or design it so that children or unwitting partners might "tidy it up" or take it down and play with it.

You don't have to do a big ritual cleansing or consecration or whatever.

Invite the guy to dwell there. Enter magical headspace or initiate ritual communication in whatever method you prefer.

"My guy, I see you are a part of the household. I've made you this house to use if you want to. Either way, bothering my partner has got to stop. If I need to talk to you for anything, I'll come back to this location. Anything I leave right next to the house is for you."

If the guy is stuck to an object, take that object somewhere nice

Learning how to bind a spirit to an object is a valuable skill for a witch. Sometimes nature does the job for you and the spirit is bound to an object on arrival.

Move that bad boy to a nice location, possibly to a spirit house you build, or maybe outside, even at a faraway location (I've left a few spirit vessels up the mountain, myself).

Make sure to positively affirm that you are taking this action to help the spirit, and your goal is to put it in a nice location.

Sit down with the dude and tell him to knock that shit off regardless of house rules

Presumably we're at this point because the spirit is still around, you don't want to actually tell him to get out, but something is happening that isn't working for you.

Despite the sarcastic section header, it's actually probably wise for you to own up to your own role in the situation.

Most spirits aren't jerks or stupid. They may be trying their best to interpret your words and behaviors.

You may be being unintentionally confusing or contradictory.

You may be laying down rapidfire changes that's making the spirit nervous or confused.

Your own magic may be creating barriers or impossibilities in the spirit world that prevent them from doing what you're asking.

They may be reacting to unseen situations you're completely unaware of.

A little humility goes a long way in soothing the waters.

Go to the guy's spirit house, if he has one, or otherwise go to where he's known to dwell; or, go to your usual working area. Enter magical headspace or initiate ritual communication.

Say something like,

"Hey, I need these very specific things to change. I don't mind you staying here, but it's my responsibility to care for this household, and I can't have this happening. If you are unable to stop doing this, I must politely request that you leave this household and find a new place to dwell."

(Note: If you're trying to cultivate psychism and want to be a spirit worker and so on, this is a great juncture to actually invite communication in whatever form might come - even if that communication comes slowly over days or weeks. But if that's not your jam for the present situation, you don't have to.)

(Maybe a controversial take, but you have a responsibility to do your best to do right by the spirits. We all have our limits and you also have a duty to your household, but if the reality is "I can't perceive or get input from spirits," you're limited in what you can do. Acting fairly and taking reasonable, diplomatic steps can sometimes be the best you can do.)

Ask the guy to leave

Enter magical headspace or initiate ritual communication.

"I'm sorry, but this isn't working out. I hold no ill-will towards you, but you must now depart and find a new dwelling outside of this property and this home.

It might be a good idea to invite him into a little vessel and then take that somewhere nice, but far away.

You can cleanse and bless a river rock and invite the guy to move in there, and then go take that somewhere you think is nice, or even just near a new apartment complex where he could find other residences, etc. I often find the vibes when transporting a spirit vessel to be very strong and they can be very opinionated about where they want to be left.

If you transport a spirit vessel to a new location, consider bringing a small offering (like a pinch of tobacco, or some bottled water) and pouring them out near the vessel in dedication to the spirit.

Announce that you're parting ways in good faith, and if you should ever meet again, that it will be in peace.

If all that fails, banishing is next

[dunmeshichilchuck]

For That One Guy On Tumblr part 11

Chilchuck x !fem !halffoot reader

TW: suicidal ideation

The two of you sit in silence for a while. Half companionable, half just exhausted. You're warm and comfortable. Chilchucks thighs are, as to be expected, boney and wiry, but they're still much better than the floor. His arm is still resting across your waist, and you're snug against him. It's....nice, actually. It's been a while since someone touched you gently like this. The makeshift fire Chilchuck made is probably going to burn out soon. It looks like he just ripped a few torches off the walls. But it's cozy. It's nice. 

Finally, Chilchuck breaks the silence.

"Look, we've got bigger problems right now, but we're gonna talk about how we're gonna handle you doing magic at some point. You know what happens to halffoots who practice magic, and we've already got Marcille doing shady black magic shit."

You stiffen, both offended and a little scared. Whether he'd meant it or not, there was an implicit threat in his words. 

"I don't do black magic."

He snorted derisively. "Like that fucking matters to the elves."

"Well I don't see any elves down here. You gonna tattle on me?"

There is a pause, just a little too long for your liking, before Chilchuck says. "No, it'd get me and my party in even deeper shit if there was a fucking halffoot mage wrapped up with us." 

You scowl, your head still hurts like hell. "yeah sure that's the only reason you're gonna protect me, and I guess it's the same reason you made sure I ate slowly enough to keep it down when you first found me, and why you gave me those ankle wraps, and why you're cuddled up all sweet with me now." 

Chilchuck snatches his arm up from around your waist like he'd been burned. 

"I- I don't - I'm not- I had to cushion your head! YOU went and got yourself concussed and then used all your mana! I wasn't being....unprofessional!" 

You (slowly, carefully, painfully) sit up off his lap and look at him. He makes a movement like he wants to steady you, but stops himself. You raise an eyebrow. 

"Sure. Now let's figure out how we're going to survive this." 

There's not actually much to go over. You're trapped in a labyrinth. You need to find food and water. You're both banged up. You're out of mana for the foreseeable future.

Your best bet is to start walking. The dungeon will probably give you water, and maybe. Just maybe. You can put the skills Chilchuck picked up from Senshi to good use.

If you can find a monster that won't just kill you in your fucked up state. 

Neither of you talk about what to do long term. Either you figure a way out of the labyrinth, or your party (somehow) finds you, or you die. It's not worth discussing. 

Regardless, there's not much else to do. You pick a direction and start walking. 

There's the same ease of working with Chilchuck as previously. Even with your still somewhat foggy mind and his remaining injuries you manage to make it slowly and steadily through the labyrinth without triggering any traps. 

Eventually you find a room with a small fountain and chug water until your stomach feels a little less like it's trying to eat itself. 

You glance at Chilchuck, who is doing the same thing. "We're gonna need to stop and sleep, and this room would probably be the best to do it in." 

He nods. He looks as exhausted as you feel. 

"Yeah...no traps or other dangers I can see. Torches. A single door we can shut and lock. A water source. This'll be the best we can hope for." 

"Yup, I don't think we're gonna find better. I'm also gonna go ahead and wash the blood off me and clean out my wounds as best I can now we have a source of running water." 

Chilchuck nods again. "I'll step outside."

You snort. "Don't be stupid. We shouldn't separate. Just face the wall, I don't care."

He looks uncomfortable. "Are you....sure?" 

You say. "Yeah I'm sure, no real point to modesty now, and anyway, it's not like you've never seen tits before. I assume you'll want to go right after me anyway." 

He just shrugs. "Alright, let me just lock the door then if we're settling down."

Chilchuck gets the door shut and locked and then plops down, resolutely facing it. 

You give yourself a quick whores bath, wincing as the cold water hits the scrapes and cuts littering your body. You carefully clean out all of them, praying the water is safe. Itd be terrible to get an infection without any way of healing it. 

Once you're finished you feel a lot more like a person, although it feels terrible having to put your nasty clothes back on. 

You walk over to Chilchuck, still patiently facing the wall, and tap him on the shoulder. He jumps. 

"Your turn."

You take your place at the wall, and he goes through what you assume is the same process. You hear him swearing softly under his breath as the cold water hits the cuts and scrapes you know he has as well. 

You let your mind drift a bit. You're exhausted, body and soul. You wonder if this is it, if your luck has finally ran out. You'd thought that same thing way back when, but maybe being saved was just a reprieve from the inevitable. You'd always known it would end like this, dying bloody and broken in the thing that had eaten so much that was important to you. It was fitting, you were at peace with it. 

You would die and your body would rot and you would join the ghosts that haunted this place. You just hoped you could get a shot at the bastard that had started this whole thing first. After that, you didn't care. 

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[theshejen]

Casey Novak X Reader

Chapter 1

You had just been transferred as a detective to Manhattan’s SVU unit. After working for the FBI and as a lawyer for big corporations, I wanted to do something that would make a difference. It seemed the team had been there before your 9AM start. A tall, beautiful middle aged woman with shoulder hair and bronze skin was arguing with a man with short hair who looked upset, he was about the same age.

“We are going to need a warrant for this….if we can get a man for the steakout.” The man shouted, his hands thrown in the air.

“Perhaps I can help, I’m your new detective. What have we got?”

The woman stepped forward and you made a face at each other. You had a one night stand with her eons ago. You hoped your face did not show that.”

“I’m detective Olivia Benson, this is Detective Elliot Stabler” I shook both their hands.

“Nice to meet you, we need a man in this house until we can get that warrant. Our ADA, Novak, is a bit busy right now.”

“I’d love to. Give me the address and I will steak it out” Olivia looked at you up and down admiring your more formal outfit of a waistcoat and tie. You weren’t out to any of your departments, even though your sexuality was probably obvious with the ties.

………………………………………………………….

Hours went by at the address when Olivia called you. You had been reading files on your new precinct to gain information on your new colleagues. Your chest rose and your heart skipped a beat. You had wanted to be friends with her but had been so busy and did not want it to be unprofessional.

“Hello there”

“Hey it’s Olivia”

“Hey, yes, I know the work phone had everyone’s name in it. Can I help you with something?”

“We need fresh eyes on this work in order to get a warrant. Please come back to the station, a beat cop will replace your lookout.”

As you drove back, you kept looking at street signs, this is what real cops did but you knew your FBI trained brain could help the team and you were eager to prove yourself.

You walked into the bullpen with everyone looking at the board, including a new redhead.

“Any progress?” You asked

“We need to see if this is the same MO. If it is the damn Feds will get this case.” Elliot remarked

Olivia looked surprised at him, “She was a Fed before this, Elliot.”

“I understand your anger, the reason why the Feds step in is because for every case a great like yours has, there are a dozen horrible ones that but a dark mark on our jobs. Now, what comparisons do we have?”

The redhead stepped forward “These scars he leaves plus the ropes he ties them with, we also should look at the type of woman he gets, great tie, but the way.” She remarked in a deep, raspy voice.

“Thank you, and you are?”

She stuck out her hand, “Casey Novak, ADA.”

“Well nice to meet you Ms. Novak,” You said, shaking her hand

“Please, call me Casey” You smiled at each other. You turned back to the board only to see Olivia uncomfortable.

Stabler explained more of these things for you.

“I reckon it’s a copycat. The way the blade is dragged is in a different direction, like the original was left handed and this guy is right handed. The women are different two, this time there was no connection between them and last time there was and not just a physical one. I’m calling a copycat. Casey, let me know if the Feds try to take this, perhaps they will listen to one of their own.”

“One of their own?” Oliva asked.

“Yes, I was in the FBI for two years,”

“Well, I will try to get this warrant. If the evidence is just circumstantial they we have a problem, but 5 now 6 accounts is enough.”

“Is the perp left handed”

“Yes, honey, why don't you come with us to see what you can find during the raid?” Olivia asked, I nodded.

I drove with Olivia which started our silent then she asked, “ Did you tell anyone?”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Do they know?”

“Know what?” I enquired.

“Do they know…about you?” I held my breath for a minute. Since Olivia did not seem out to everyone, I figured I could confide in her.

“No, I never talk about these things, especially at work.”

“Me neither,”

There was a long silence then but you did admire the woman and had to tell her.

“I did think you were really cool and thought we would be good friends, if that’s possible after…everything we did together.”

“Considering we are partners, I wouldn't mind that,” She remarked with a smile and caressed your knee.

“Do people even date in the department? I should get back out there but was only planning on doing so outside of work,”

“Not sure,” Live replied before we got a passage on the radio. She sped up the 4 or so miles to the perps house.

They were arresting him and we put on gloves and began to roam the house. I began searching the whole house, trying to find Casey, I wanted to learn more about her. A young, bright attorney, we had a lot in common. I came back down toward the front when Olivia asked me for advice, that I advised and did the same for Stabler. I went back to Oliva and asked if anyone had seen Casey, louder than expected and she laughed and motioned to herself.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Just to see if you needed help, seems like you lead these things,”

“Ha! No it's more symbiotic, we get what we need, perhaps I’m the more needy one. You sure that was the only reason,” She enquired, you stuttered a bit.

“I wondered if you wanted to hang out, as I also have a background in law,”

“I thought you worked for the FBI,”

“I have done both, though, thought I worked with the bad guys before, helped big corporations screw other big corporations,”

Casey nodded. “Sure, I’d love to,”

……………………………………………………………………………………….

Our suspected perp had gone to a gay club or sorts. You held your breath when they mentioned the event as you had been there. Your team would find out. Olivia seemed to notice your fear because she took you aside into the overtime bedroom.

“Everything ok?”

“Um, yeah, how about you?”

“You can’t like to me hon, you have been there, haven’t you?”

You were about to nod, as only Olivia knew your secret, then Casey came in, quite intensely.

“We’re talking, Case,” Olvia exclaimed in a serious voice.

“I need to talk to our newest detective, alone preferably”

“It’s fine, what is it Casey?”

“Why did you tell us you were at the Swinging Scissor event?”

You blushed and stood up, your arms crossed over your chest.

“It’s none of your business,”

“Well I got the footage and looked over it before anyone else did so the rest of the team will know,”

You felt so weak, like you were made of lead. Casey crossed over to you and sat on the bed.

“Olivia please give us a minute,” She looked at me and I nodded for her to leave as it was just Casey and you.

You felt like you were going to cry. Casey looked conflicted. “I’ve always wanted to go to an event like this, I haven’t been to something similar in over a decade. You know I swing both ways, right?”

You looked at the redhead before looking down. “The less people know about me, the better, why can’t someone else do this?”

“Because you have experience in this field. Hell, even long term undercover FBI agents are chosen based on what they know about the context of each assignment,”

You turned away from Casey and put your hands on your face, leaning against the wall. Casey came up behind you and gently stroked your arm. You turned to the redhead and gently nodded.

……………………………………………………………………….

You felt tired as everything was explained, especially that you were at this event and would be a main part in the operation. You felt Liv staring at you even when you weren’t talking. The operation would take place in two days with that everyone left for the day, you first rushing out the door.

That night, you tossed and turned in bed. You had a dream about Olivia and not the kosher kind. She was beautiful, especially when you met her and made love to her. You woke up an hour and a half early, feeling unfulfilled and worked out to distract you.

You had your head in the clouds as you walked into the building when Casey came up behind you.

“Huh,” you muttered as your head came back down to earth. You had been thinking about your experience with Olivia all those years ago but now you needed your head in the game, not in your bed.

“We need to get your undercover outfit, it’s the best part of being undercover, so I’m told!” She beamed, the redhead seemed more excited about this that you did.

“Forgive my lack of enthusiasm, my coffee has yet to kick in. I’m glad you are excited for me,” you replied, striding over to your desk.

“I’m not just excited for me , I am excited for us! I was willing to go undercover as well. Most of the other women didn’t want to!”

“Way to go for lesbian stereotypes, I figured most of the women here were gay….until I found out most had boyfriends,” I sat down at the desk to check my emails.

“They could swing both ways,” Casey replied leaning over your desk, her hair swooped down, eyes on your, close to your face. You made your breath not hitch and raised an eyebrow.

“Let’s go look at those clothes, Case,”

…………………………………………………………….

As Cragen listed out everything that would happen. You felt Casey’s eyes on you and Olivia’s less so but hers had concern. There would be two extra cops there with Cragen and a few others with Stabler in a truck down the street. You would be given sunglasses with a camera and would drink milk and fatty food beforehand so if someone bought you a drink, it would not affect you much.

It was your job to give information on this event to everyone, which you weren’t fond of. “The event will be loud so only vision will be important. There are different balconies so I can see everyone, but I need to make it not look suspicious.” You saw Casey smirk, her arms crossed as she looked down. “Once I see the perp, I will briefly cover the camera. It will be hard to see and focus but you must follow her. Novak and I will leave roughly 30 minutes after, looking….frisky so that we have an excuse to leave. I reckon there will be security on the perp’s behalf so it’s important Casey and I look normal,”

“Perhaps you and I should go for a drink after this, to get to know each other a bit. You seem nervous that we won’t mesh,”

“Fine, I just want to make sure that this does not look like an operation from the perp’s perspective. This one especially knows police tactics.”

With that everyone dispersed to get ready for tomorrow evening. You spent the rest of the day researching the perp and staring at the blueprints of the place. One in particular when Casey came up to you. Despite the day being slow, you had spaced out.

“What a sexy blueprint!” She exclaimed. “Indeed,” you said haphazardly. “So you agree that that blueprint is sexy and it’s why you’ve been staring at it for 15 minutes. “What!” You say as you get up to get some water.

“I’m just teasing you, wanna go for that drink, it’s almost 5,” You looked at the computer, the clock read 4:32. “Not exactly 5 Casey,” “Close enough, technically this is a work thing to prepare us for tomorrow,” She said, shaking her shoulders. “You know, it'll look like I’m talking to you but I will be talking to the earpiece,” “So I’m just a body for you, or in the case of this mission, just a hot piece of ass.”

Your eyes bulged and you shook your head. “Such a feminist,” She walked over to you and crossed her arms, “Feminism is about choice,”

“Yes well, let’s continue this conversation elsewhere as I’m bored,” “Ah, I’m boring you, I see,”

“Not you, Casey, the work. Come on, let’s go have that drink!”

[rallentando1011]

Somnambulant Soulmates (rise Donnie x gn reader)

Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Word Count: 2833

“Where in the actual heck did you lead me?”

“Trying to figure that out right now. How many turns have you taken?”

“You mean to the left or right?” you inquired cautiously, steps splashing in the shallow water of the sewer tunnel you currently found yourself in. You thought that since you had taken this exact same path literally yesterday you might remember the way. Well, you thought wrong, which was why you called up the man you were on your way to meet for assistance.

Donnie huffed over the phone. “Both, preferably. Why would you go traversing through a complex labyrinth of a sewer system, not knowing where you’re going, and not keeping track of where you’ve gone?”

“Uhh, misguided faith in myself?”

“Eh. Fair enough. I’ll send auxiliary support your way.”

“‘Auxiliary support?’ What is that supposed to-”

Before you could even finish your thought, not to mention get a response, the call ended.

You gaped. Either the signal cut out, which was feasible in the sewers, or he ended the call. For Donnie’s sake, he’d better have hoped it was the former.

You froze in the eerie silence and dark, breathing tersely. Your hands hung uncomfortably off your sides, shoulders drawn tight.

What were you supposed to do now?

Well, retracing your steps seemed better than continuing further into uncharted territory. Following that logic, you pivoted and meandered cautiously back from where you came.

The tunnel came upon an especially dark section, so you turned on your phone’s flashlight. Your field of vision was small, but at least you could directly in front of you. Better than nothingness..

Suddenly, a strange noise entered your ears. Some sort of mechanical whirring. It sounded vaguely in front of you, though the reverberation from the tunnels made it hard to discern.

You tensed up again.

What if it was from those goons from last night? Or, even worse, what if it was-

As the source of the odd whirring sound came into view, you paused.

“Ohhhh my goodness…” Your startled reflexes swiftly softened as you registered the little purple drone levitating before you.

A very boop-able beak was on what you assumed to be its face, with petite propellers acting as limbs. Bottom line, it was adorable.

“Woah, how’s it hanging, dude?” the drone greeted. “D told me you got a bit turned around down here, but we’ll get you to the lair real quick.”

“Woah.” You admired the tech, tilting your head at it. “So, am I talking to Donnie or an algorithm right now?”

“Neither! The name’s S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. broski!” it- he introduced himself.

“Huh. Nice to meet you, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.,” you responded and gave your name in return. “Would you mind please showing me to Donnie?”

“No problem!” the drone floated higher excitedly before whipping around. “Follow me. We’ll be back to the lab in a jiff.”

“Thanks!”

You trailed along the polite drone in silence, weaving and wandering through dim channels until he spoke up.

“So, you and D are cool?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” You tipped your head down inquisitively. 

“I don’t know what you see in him.”

You barked out a laugh at how abrupt his sass was. “Oh?”

“Yeah! He can be super overbearing sometimes- like, won’t-even-let-me-out-of-the-lair overbearing, you know? He’s gotten better about it, but he can still be way protective.”

“Surely it can’t be that bad,” you offered. The drone did not seem to agree.

“Oh, it can, bro! One time, he padlocked my propellers and I ended up in, like, a gang almost-”

As your conversation trailed off and you two moved, the area around you grew lighter and you found yourself in the empty atrium of the lair. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. guided you up to the second floor, down a dim hallway, and to a stop in front of large, metallic doors as his rant about Donnie came to a close.

“Thanks, little guy. I appreciate the help.” You smiled, and the drone tilted his head and returned the gesture.

“Of course, bro! Just let me know if you get too bored with Donnie. Us cool people can hang out and do something less bogus.”

You chuckled. “I’ll let you know.”

With a small salute, you sent him whirring off.

You turned to face the sturdy-looking doors before you. Just as you moved to rap on them, the doors opened with a heavy sound of air. You took a confused glance to the right, left, before stepping into the lab.

The room consisted mostly of metallic silver hues with tables and shelves stacked up with a plethora of technological treasures. Purple mood lights illuminated the room softly, though it was still a lot more effective than your flashlight was.

Sounds of clinging and clanging proliferated from somewhere behind a shelf. You followed them, expecting to find your companion tinkering on something - perhaps the invention he was researching at the library?

Instead, you turned the corner to see him using the titanium arms that extended from his battle shell to swipe what was probably a literal ton of empty energy drinks off of his desk and into a trash can beside it.

You interrupted his tidying up with a cough to announce your presence.

Startled, he snapped his head back to look at you, his technology not ceasing to clear the irrelevant items from his desk.

“Oh. You made it. Congratulations,” he said, though his monotonous tone did not invoke any sentiment of felicitations.

“Yeah, I made it, little thanks to you.”

“I take it S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. behaved himself?”

“He was an angel.” You put a hand over your heart and walked up to him just as a thought struck you. “By the way, how did you know where to send S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.?”

“That is unimportant right now. What matters iiiis-” he paused to gesture to his desk, “-science! Engineering, to be more specific, but we can delve into that more later.”

“Hm.” You leaned over the desk, viewing a highly detailed blueprint and sheet of notes. The thought that he probably  definitely tracked your call faded as you immersed yourself in his work. “You mentioned a prototype of this yesterday?”

“I admire your tenacity, but would you not prefer to discuss the workings of the machine before seeing the results?” he queried.

“Is it not helpful to vary in learning techniques? I’m game for some visual learning.”

“Sigh, if you insist.”

Donnie turned around, delicately grabbed an object from a shelf beside him, set it down on the desk.

The metal object was spherical, for the most part, with some geometric patterns on the bottom to prop it up. It was sizable, though wieldy enough to be portable. On the side of it was an ingrained insignia you’d seen on his other tech, and beside that was an odd yet intentional divot in the side.

“About this prototype for the generator-” Donnie glanced to the side, “it’s been built, but I don’t have the juice for it yet.”

“So you don’t have the energy source for your energy source?”

He deadpanned at your teasing. “It’s a prototype for a reason.” 

“Is that dent where the mystic crystal or whatever is supposed to go?”

“Yes, it is intended to be for a crystal, though I’ll take any viable source I can get. Now, shall we discuss the behind the scenes?”

You nodded.

Before crashing into his own chair, he pulled up a stool for you. Oddly considerate, but you wouldn’t complain.

From talk of sinusoidal waves, frequencies, output and input responses from certain mystic crystals, the conversation went into a plenitude of tangentially related topics, the minutiae of which he had to explain to you, but you got the majority of it. However, such conversation came at a price, for one cannot blab and/or yap for an hour consecutively without obtaining a splitting headache and requiring sustenance.

Eventually, you cleared your throat to get his attention off of the blueprints for the energy source. The turtle met your gaze curiously.

“All this ‘being a genius’ stuff has left me positively parched,” you spoke up, popping the p’s. “You have anything to drink in here? Or is the lair’s kitchen better?”

It felt kind of weird to refer to his residence as a lair, but you were trying.

“This is a laboratory; it would be reprehensible to bring food or beverage in here.”

The two of you glanced down at the miniature trash can adjacent to his desk and the cans overflowing from it.

“Your trash begs to differ.”

He clicked his tongue. “Those cans are empty now, and I don’t have more. We probably have water in the fridge.”

“How about we go somewhere instead? Go for a walk, head to a cafe, get some fresh air. I would prefer not getting lost here again.”

Donnie hummed, tapped his chin.“Not a bad idea. You’re buying, though.”

“Sure!”

He blinked. “I was joking. Of course I’m going to buy my own beverage.”

“We’ll see,” you smiled, hopping up from your seat. “Do you want to grab a coat or something? The wind chill’s bad today.”

“Forcing me out of my lab for food, insisting I prepare for the weather, if I didn’t know better I might say you care about me.” Donnie raised a playful eyebrow.

“Don’t flatter yourself. And I haven’t forced you anywhere. For legal purposes.”

“You can wait here. I’ll be back in a moment.” Donnie hopped up and exited the lab, presumably to get some warmer clothes.

As he slipped out of the room, you traced a finger over the blueprints he had gushed over so adamantly. So much time and effort and knowledge had been poured into every aspect of this project, and that, not to mention the complexity of it, was enough to gain your respect. You pulled out your phone, snapped a quick picture of the paper, not the prototype for now, and slipped it back into your pocket.

You waited for an uncomfortable moment, literally twiddling your thumbs, trying to seem casual. There was a literal trove of things to check out or explore in the room, but you did not know how much time you had. 

And you couldn’t risk getting caught.

So you waited. And waited.

Okay, either Donnie ditched you or he just took forever to get ready.

Thinking back to how late he was to April’s party heavily implied the latter.

After another moment of just standing next to his desk, the sound of footsteps padding closer drew your attention up.

Lo and behold, in the doorway stood Donnie with crossed arms.

His mask and goggles remained the same, steadfast on his head, but he did put on some clothes. A snug black turtleneck and flowy lavender cargo pants had joined the ensemble, though there was still a severe lack of shoes.

“Okay, Steve Jobs.” The comment slipped out of your mouth before you could process it. It came across lightheartedly enough, though, based on Donnie’s grin.

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it, because that’s going straight up here.” He tapped his index to his temple and started walking out of the lab. You followed after.

“I guess with all that square footage something’s bound to go up there.”

He wrinkled his nose in distaste.

You elbowed

“I’m kidding. Your brain capacity is bound to be maxed out already with all that knowledge.”

“Thanks? That- wasn’t derogatory, right?”

“What do you think?”

“That you’re patronizing me?”

“Sort of. I was mostly calling you smart, in a roundabout way.”

“Huh. So, thanks?”

“Welcome.”

You two quickly made your way out of the lair and onto the surface’s streets.

You realized just as quickly that you had no idea where you were headed to.

“Uhh, D?”

“I know. Unless you have other suggestions, I know a place nearby.”

“Oh, yeah, please lead the way. I genuinely had no idea where to go.”

“Ha,” he grinned, taking the lead down a few streets and corridors and bringing you two to a quaint coffee shop. String lights, beige bricks, sleek tables and booths, the store was modern and comely.

Of course, with it being New York City, the line was huge, but this place was concealed well enough that it at least wasn’t down the road.

While waiting in line, you didn’t talk much, instead opting to either scroll on your phones or try to figure out which kind of coffee or tea you wanted.

As you neared the register, still having no idea what you wanted, you passed the small refrigerated shelf of items.

“Oh, I’ve seen these before!” Your attention caught on some bottles of Yakult, so you selected one of the original flavors. “Never tried it though. Want to try it together?”

“Why not?” he grinned uncertainly and flashed a couple of thumbs up.

“That’s the spirit!”

You two made it to the register and ended up buying the probiotic drinks along with a couple of baked goods. Before he could make a move to pay for at least his items, you swooped in and bought them all with an innocent grin.

His glare saw through your unassuming demeanor.

You got your confections and drinks before making your way to an available booth. You took up a seat across from him and tried the new drink.

“I like it.” You nodded. It was citrusy, smooth, overall pleasant to indulge in.

“Oh. Mmmm…” he shuddered, forcing it down with a queasy smile on his face.

“Huh. You hate it,” you observed bemusedly. You relished the panic that washed over him at your comment.

“What? Nooo. This- this is very… not bad,” he faltered under your smug stare.

“It’s fine!” you reassured as you slid his Yakult toward yourself. “You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it.”

“But-” he interjected, glancing down at the accursed drink, then back up to you. “But you bought it for me. I hardly consider it amiable to discard something that someone else purchased.”

“Well, luckily for us both, it’s not going to waste.”

Before he had the opportunity to ask you to elaborate, you took a long sip of the probiotic beverage. You smiled while doing so, coming face to face with a floored turtle when you set it back down on the table.

He stared numbly at you before stammering out, “I- you- do you have any idea how many germs we just shared?” 

“Oh well,” you shrugged. “Despite the atrocious things that come out of it, I think you have a fairly clean mouth. Now, how about we get you something else to drink? Something that you don’t find atrocious.”

“Fine, but I’ll be paying for it this time.”

You smiled knowingly, hand already fastened on your wallet. “We’ll see.”

The grin stayed smugly planted on your face as you made it to the front counter and slapped your payment down before he could.

“You’re just gonna have to settle with buying next time,” was your response to his scowl.

“Next time?” Donnie seemed taken aback.

You shrugged playfully. “Unless you don’t want to do this again. I’m good either way.”

“Um, no, n-next time’s on me,” he said hesitantly.

“Alright then. Do you want to tell the barista what you want?” you urged, indicating toward a visibly disinterested worker behind the counter.

“Right!” Donnie finally made it back onto this plane of reality and sprung into action, making his selection from the refrigerated section beside the counter.

“Flavorless juice?” Your jaw dropped as he slid it to the worker.

“Uh, yeah? They’ve got the good kind here. 50% less flavor…”

“Okay then…” you opted to judge him silently and let the man enjoy his juice, albeit an atrocious variety of juice.

You started walking back to the booth before a notification on your phone made you pause. Taking it out, your eyes widened.

“Oh, uh, I spent a lot longer with you than I thought I did. Um, I’ve got to go now, but I’ll catch you later?”

“Y-Yeah! Later!”

You left him standing there with a smile and a couple of finger guns before bounding off toward the exit and out of his view.

Once you left his field of vision, he looked back down at his drink. The drink you bought for him. The drink you spent additional time and money on to get for him just because he couldn’t texturally handle the other one you’d bought him.

What you mentioned earlier about doing this again sounded quite nice.

Perhaps, instead of waiting for fate or probability or whatever was at play to cause you to run into each other again, it could be a more active endeavor, something conscious.

That didn’t sound half bad to him.

(chapter artwork HERE)

Taglist~ @rottmntsimp

@envyjmoney

[onim5]

A Stormy Night

Portgas D. Ace x Reader

I hope you enjoy it, if you don't. Then that's you're problem.

-----------------------------

"Please onim5, give me some company. I don't wanna be alone while it's storming." You begged as you sat at the empty dinner table. Outside poured the rain in the pitch black night, and thunder echoed through the island. "I even accept a little bug to keep me company. Just please."

'Knock, knock.' You stared at the door. 'Knock, knock.' Was heard again. "I was just joking, I don't even know who onim5 is." You mumbled as you went up to the door. Looking out the peephole you saw a dark silhouette that seemed drenched. Knock, knock.' Echoed again. And before opening you begged again. Please don't be a murderer.

"Yes?" You whispered as you opened the door. "Excuse me, I know how late it is, but it's storming and I ain't very fond of getting wet. Could I perhaps come in?" The man asked. "Hmm, sure. Just take off your shoes and leave them at the door." You answered opening the door up s little more for the man. "Thank you."

You made your way to the light switch, and when it was finally on you got a much better look at your surprise guest. Oh, onim5 what have you sent me? You thought as you glared at the man's shirtless torso. Oh, he looked so fine in all his wet glory, oh right he's drenched. "I see if I have some spare clothes, you can take a shower in that room." You said while pointing at a door. "Thanks, but I be fine. Names Ace by the way." He introduced as he walked to the room you had said.

"Y/n." You answered as you glared at the tattoo on his back. Oh shit. When you heard the shower starting you got a towel for him. And then went to the kitchen. "He has manners and seems to be a real gentleman, which means he won't hurt me." You reassured as you cooked.

Ace held the towel. And then just placed it in the corner using his fire to dry it up instead. He dried his clothes, hat, and bag too. When he opens the bathroom door his nose immediately catches the scent of food. His stomach grumbled and he made his way to the kitchen. "I heard that. Give me some more time and I can make more." You said to Ace's delight.

"Can I help out with anything?" Ace asked. "You can always set the table." Due to the lack of drawers, Ace figured out on his own where the cutlery where. But the plates. "Where do you keep the plates?" He asked. "Above me." You answered as you cut the vegetables. Ace walked up next to you, and he was too damn close and still shirtless!

You're cheeks heated up as he reached for two plates. You have a partner's close view of them. "I thought you said you be fine about clothes," I asked. "I am, they are completely dry, so don't worry," Ace answered. "Um, do you not have a shirt?" You asked believing that be the best way to approach the topic. "Nope," Ace answered casually.

"Please Ace I feel uncomfortable with a shirtless man in my home." And horny. "Yeah I know, but don't you have anything else?" Ace asked as he held up the hoodie. "Not in your size." You answered. "Ugh, fine. Because you're showing such hospitality, why do you have this in such a big size anyway?" Ace asked as he put it on. "It was the only cat hoodie left, I needed it."

You thought the Whitebeard pirate would be annoyed for the rest of his stay, but he quickly got happy when you two sat down for dinner. And then it happened. Ace fell head first into the plate, unconscious. Was he dead? Had you poisoned him? And then you felt a weird relief wash over you as a snore filled the room.

What an interesting dinner. "From the looks of it, this storm won't stop until tomorrow at least. And I don't have a guest room or a couch. " You said mostly to yourself. "Don't worry I just sleep on the floor," Ace said as he stretched a little. "But I'm gonna feel bad." You whined. "Really?" Ace asked. "Yes, let's play a board game." You suggested to change the subject. "Wut?"

37 games later.

"He's asleep." You said out loud as you watched the man sleep on your bed. "Meh, future me's problem." You comment lying down next to him. When Ace's eyes adjusted to the light he found you on his chest sleeping and one of your legs in between his legs. Small flames flicker out of embarrassment. Ace stops them and starts blushing madly. Out of pure reaction, he tries to hide his face under his hat, but instead of his cool hat, he drags the cat hood down. Which just made him blush more. Is this how it is to have a lover?

[soft-girl-musings]

Last Night -- Chapter 2 (Shots Fired)

chapter 1 chapter 3

cross-posted to ao3

Jake Lockley x fem!Reader

tags: more angst, potential misuse of alcohol, author likes to say the fuck word, insensitive language toward the system

wc: 1.4k

fic summary: You're usually tight-lipped about your frustrations, especially when it comes to Jake. But a drink too many leaves you spilling your thoughts one by one.

You'd known you couldn't hide forever.

__________

"Hide" is a strong word. But as you'd knocked back your third, fourth, and fifth shots of the night, you'd realized that's exactly what you were doing. You were hiding.

Meaning it was only a matter of time before you were found.

And there was always a 1-in-3 chance you wouldn't like who did the finding.

If it'd been Steven, he would have doted on you, as always. He wouldn't pry or pester for details; he'd make sure you were comfortable and at ease before turning in for the night.

If it'd been Marc, he'd have likely let you sleep it off on your own. You never really discuss the hard stuff with him; you both get so uncomfortable, you tend to call it quits until you can regroup over something else.

You'd really hoped it wouldn't be Jake.

So of course it was him who had whisked you away from your pity party, zeroed in on your stress and wouldn't back down until he was satisfied.

The ride home is quiet, unbearably so. Not that you want to talk; your head is still spinning, and you're not sure you fully trust the thoughts that threaten to come out. But you can tell that Jake's itching to speak to you, his eyes flitting between the road and the rearview mirror to check on you every few seconds.

His anxious gaze would be bad enough without his refusal to break the silence. You shift in your seat, leaning against the window. "If you have something to say, just say it."

"I was hoping you'd take the lead, querida." You can't see his hands beneath his gloves, but you're sure his knuckles are white.

You let your eyes drift closed, your head now throbbing. "I have nothing to say." A boldfaced lie, but he doesn't need to know that. Knowing Jake, he's close to figuring it out anyway.

"Who's Evan?" There it is.

"Don't worry about it."

"Of course I'm going to worry, look at you. If he made you do this to yourself..." Jake clicks his tongue, and you're sure he's imagining ways to get back at him.

"I didn't 'do anything' to myself, Jake. I'm an adult who made an adult decision."

"An adult mistake," he chuckles dryly.

"Oh, real mature." You press yourself against the car door, eager to go home and put tonight behind you.

"....So you're not going to tell me about Evan?"

"No, Jake, I'm tired."

"Was it just that guy from work, or wherever? Or is there something else going on?" You feel his hand come over and rest on your knee, making your stomach lurch at the touch that's usually comforting. You push him away.

"It's nothing, Jake. Just drop it."

"Cariño, if you have a problem, I want to help-"

"I know, but I said drop it!" you shout. Something you've never done before.

Your outburst hangs heavy in the air between you. Jake's hand moves back to the wheel, gripping it with the same force as before.

"Bet you'd tell Marc or Steven." he mutters under his breath.

"What was that?" You turn in your seat, finally facing him.

Jake sets his jaw, eyes on the road. "I said, I bet you'd tell Marc or Steven whatever's bothering you."

You sit up. "You want to go there? Let's fucking go there, Jake. You're what's bothering me right now." You can feel your face heating up, your anger rushing to the surface once more.

"Marc and Steven would give me a chance to catch my goddamn breath. They wouldn't hound my friends for my location-"

"-She called me, I didn't-"

"-they wouldn't drag me home like a child, or jump down my fucking throat every time I have an off day."

"You didn't answer your phone, we had plans and-"

"And I forgot! Fucking sue me, Jake!" You throw your hands up in frustration and turn back toward the window. Whatever sober, sensible part of you that had remained was now drowned out by the broken emotional dam you couldn't shut off if you wanted to.

Shaking your head, you sigh. "Things were easier before." You don't know if you mean for him to catch that.

He does.

Drawing a deep breath, Jake turns so he can see your face when you answer. "Before what, cariño?" he asks quietly.

Your eyes are already closed as you lean against the glass. All the energy you'd spent venting left you exhausted, the alcohol finally staking its victory over you. You manage the strength to murmur a reply before you drift to sleep.

"Before I met you."

__________

The next morning hits you like a ton of bricks.

You struggle to move from beneath your blanket, you're so sore. Funny, you don't remember getting into bed.

As you reach for another pillow to block out the sunlight, you feel the soft sleeves of your sweatshirt shift against your arm. You pause. This isn't what you were wearing last night.

Last night...

The memories are slow to surface, all jumbled into one big mess of headache and chaos. What happened last night?

You open one eye to check the time. You wince; it's almost noon. Looks like you're calling in sick.

–the thought of which makes you gag, and you rush to the bathroom before you ruin your bedsheets. Thankfully you make it in time, hunching over the toilet with breakneck speed. You get a flash of a memory: who the hell let you order whiskey? And so much?

There was whiskey… and Jake. You definitely remember Jake being there.

“Jake?” you call out weakly. He had to still be around, especially if he was at the bar (ugh, you're never going back there) when you drank. He wouldn’t leave your side for a cold, let alone a hangover.

You groan as another wave of nausea hits. “Hey, Jake? Can you bring me a seltzer?” You’re going to be here for a while.

By the time you’ve emptied every possible ounce of your stomach, you realize you never got a response.

“Jake?” You lift yourself off the floor, gripping the bathroom counter. When you steady yourself, something seems off.

Half the counter is empty.

“Marc? Have you been cleaning again?” Taking stock, you see none of your favorite products have moved. The others are missing.

The silence in the apartment is now unsettling, your voice echoing a bit louder than usual with no reply.

Yelling. You remember yelling. Was that really you? That can’t be right, you never raise your voice–

Yet your throat smarts, indicating otherwise. Combined with the acidic punishment your stomach just put you through, your voice feels hoarse.

This isn’t right, something must have happened.

You decide to retrace your steps as best you can, jumping through the shower to clear your mind.

I got off work, the girls took me out. There was yelling, at some point. And Jake. We drank… no, he wasn’t there until the end. Right? He left me– no, brought me outside. And we drove…

The hot water does little to unscramble your memory; your head feels as foggy as the mirror you peer into as you brush your teeth. You put on clean pajamas and venture to the living area with caution.

On the kitchen counter, you find your favorite bagel and a banana arranged on a plate, a jar of peanut butter beside them. Your water bottle is full. Shivering, you turn to see the window is open. It’s chilly outside, but the fresh air does help clear your mind a bit more.

Steven must have set this up, you conclude. You beeline for the water and down most of the bottle before you notice there’s a note taped to the side.

When you read it, the bottle slips from your hand, spilling as it clatters to the ground.

You’re frozen in place as everything rushes back to your memory: every emotion, every word, the entire evening. Including the last thing you said to Jake in the car.

The words of the note bleed together from the spill, but you crouch down and pour over them again and again, too focused to notice the puddle you’re kneeling in.

Going back to mine for a bit. Let me know when you’re ready to talk about last night.

-Jake

You fucked up.

__________

A/N: one part to go! this was a trip to write, but I'm enjoying the process. tysm for reading! <3

tagging @lunar-ghoulie and @romanarose, as promised (ty for your support!)

[clotpolesonly]

i figured out why Declan is my go-to blorbo, and it's because he's one of those characters where i can find common emotional/experiential ground between him and practically every other significant character and that just makes him fascinating to me and so so versatile

Declan and Gansey: repression, repression, repression!! so much anxiety rolled up into a tiny little ball and stubbornly ignored because feelings are unseemly and have no place here. they will feel things when they're dead, thank you very much. responsible beyond their years, on their own/taking care of themselves long before they should have been. tending to other people or the practicalities of the moment take precedence over themselves, at all times. unfortunately, Ronan is very important to them and they will go out of their way to protect him. also the insomnia and the autism vibes.

Declan and Adam: ruthlessly practical people. hard working and ambitious but for a reason, not for its own sake (Adam to get out of the trailer park, Declan to camouflage his other activities). they would rather die than admit to weakness or vulnerability in front of another human being. Do Not Let The Emotions In Or You Will Never Stop. feeling alienated and fundamentally from their peers, and distrustful of/disillusioned by the idea of help from authority figures -- if you have a problem, solve it yourself. both very very accustomed to lying, constantly and about everything, in order to disguise their home situation and deflect attention from anything that might cause people to ask questions. complicated relationships with their mothers, at least partially rooted in negligence and not stepping in wrt the situation with their fathers. and of course, there's a difference in scale and severity, but feeling unsafe due to the aforementioned fathers.

Declan and Blue: the particular brand of resentment that comes with being the only unspecial member of a special family. being the sensible one and stubbornly proud of how well they manage to get by without any of the ✨ super specialness ✨ that everybody else has. torn between wishing and wondering what it would be like to be special too and being desperately grateful that they're not. wishing that somebody would understand how fucking lonely it is knowing that you and your loved ones will never truly understand each other. being too proud to ever admit as much out loud.

Declan and Noah: this one's more nebulous, but the idea of being not fully real, not fully a person, and definitely the idea of not being seen. of being invisible and looked through. Noah's is because he's a literal ghost, obviously, and it's through no fault of his, but Declan has gone out of his way to cultivate that experience, to make himself as overlookable and forgettable as possible, for safety and security. but it doesn't feel good. the erosion of the sense of self as time goes on, worn down by the life they're living. and a shared understanding of being the victim of extreme violence (Noah's murder and Declan's attack by the Grey Man, at least).

Declan and Henry: the children of criminals. burdened with the knowledge of a world -- two worlds tbh, the criminal and the magical -- that they can't speak about to anyone else. socially isolated and starved for emotional connection. uncomfortably comfortable with the violence that has permeated their lives and always acting under the assumption that it can and will find them again.

Declan and the Gray Man: business is as business does and it's not personal. ✨ depression ✨ and going through the motions because this is just their life and they don't have the emotional or mental capacity right now to think of how their life might be changed. making themselves as dull as possible and then not being able to find their way out of the hole they've dug themselves, at least not until someone comes along to remind them of what it feels like to feel things.

Declan and Jordan: repression of self and lack of identity. not being allowed the space to be their own person, always forced to cram themselves into a tiny box for the sake of others. bursting at the seams with dreams that they're not allowed to chase and feelings they're not allowed to express. feeling truly seen for the first time when they meet each other.

Declan and Hennessy: being preceded by the reputation of a parent they resent. living in Niall and JH's shadows, always compared to them, even when they suspect that they may actually be better than their parents at what they do. the struggle not to let that bitterness swallow them whole before they can grow into their own reputations and make names for themselves.

Declan and Farooq-Lane: young professions who have worked very hard, thank you very much, to be as competent as they are. logical thinkers with a brewing storm of emotion that they try not to let interfere with their logical thinking because they know it makes them impulsive and they don't like that loss of control. loss of control is the enemy. they are the only grown-ups in the room and they would rather die than acknowledge that they are actually scared kids in way over their heads. both with complicated feelings about dreamers and deep-seated issues related to their dreamer brothers. also they have very similar taste in women.

honestly, the only people that Declan doesn't have common ground with is his brothers, and that's what makes his relationships with them so interesting and so fraught. there's something to be explored between Declan and Ronan wrt their suicidal ideation (though they have very different flavors of it) and perhaps with them both feeling insecure compared to each other, but so much of their conflict is about just how different their experiences and perceptions and personalities are.

and Declan being unable to relate to Matthew on a personal, empathetic level is probably part of why he finds it so hard to really think of Matthew as a fully independent PERSON in his own right. though, if Declan's experiences with the bag of Niall's memories had gone a little differently, there could have been a connection over the experience of being denied full personhood by a well-meaning but ultimately overbearing and neglectful guardian. 🤔

anyway, these have been my musings on Declan and why he continues to fascinate me. he has the range, darling.

[vacantgodling]

i ask about art style because i'm currently trying to develop one myself. i can do realism well but that's not what i want to do, and it's harder to do that from imagination anyway (at least for me). i always need an exact reference, which really narrows down what i can draw. but i really can't figure out how to stylize things kajsfkjs.

AHHH i see what you mean lmao. it’s not really a problem i’ve fully dealt with (i’ve never been good with realism so i never tried 💀) but a couple of tips that i’ve found help me with drawing what i want to draw:

the first one is gonna sound sacrilegious in some circles but like hear me out tbh: reference / *trace / examine styles that you like or that are close to what you’re looking to go for in your art. directly reference them when you’re drawing and mimic them so you can get a feel and understanding for how the style itself operates. i say trace with an asterisk bc i know people are like OMG DONT TRACE but to me personally tracing is bad when you trace over someone’s art directly and claim it as your own. p shitty. tracing to understand style is a completely different thing bc you’re using it as a learning tool. i do it all the time tbh and i find learning from actual art vs real photos is super helpful in understanding how to stretch your limits artistically. it helps you think more in a “this is stylistic how are they capturing that” versus capturing the image as close to real as possible.

secondly, using reference isn’t bad, but use them like stepping stones—don’t be afraid to patch different references together so you can “see” something. it takes a good while to get to a point where you can just dream up whatever and have it happen lol. but i tend to use references more like “fill in the blanks” when i can’t figure things out. it’s gonna be uncomfortable but think of it like writing a scene or describing something — a place, a character, etc. you can’t “reference” that writing to life, you have to prod and poke and fiddle with it to get it sounding how you like in your head. drawing is very similar just with images. sometimes what helps me personally is i will list out what traits i want a drawing to have or i’ll discuss them with myself beforehand of what this character looks like (bc i mainly do character art lol) and what things i need or want to include. then i go reference hunting if there’s certain things i can’t picture just so i can make it a clearer visualization. then i start drawing. a kinda example is this picture here, where you see on the side i have a list of characteristics and then the finished oc (verin) in the middle lol.

or, in this i literally found a stylized wig to help me figure out how to draw the hair (the bun specifically) bc i was BUGGIN about it i could not figure it out and it was making me Angry

but that’s what i mean by using a piece of a reference. i didn’t use a ref for the rest of the drawing i kind of just said hey i want her to look like this this and this let’s go. that’s why first step of finding styles you like and trying to emulate them is important bc obvs i can’t just say ��oh yeah just write it down you’ll visualize it” like the more you practice drawing near a style you like the more it’ll help you build and branch on your own.

finally, tbh it takes a long time and a lot of practice to get to a point where you can say “yep this is my artstyle” and feel happy with it. like i draw a lot and i’m still not really sure what constitutes my own style but like. i can recognize my art. it’s just not where i want it to be yet. your art style will constantly be growing and changing just based on the media and art you consume no different than writing. you’ll notice yourself incorporating the most random shit you didn’t think had an impact on you but did. for instance, i used to have such a shit time drawing noses until i saw (1) artist draw that little line that i do under noses and i just assimilated that into how i draw now lmao.

idk if any of these are PARTICULARLY helpful bc i’m like. not good with skill and terminology terms my brain when i draw is literally “brrrrr” so much subconscious thinking when i draw tbh lol. i can definitely try giving you more pointers if it’d help?? or i can upload some of my drawing videos that my ipad records bc idk for me something that does help is when i watch other people draw i can see How they did something or built it up for the most part 💀

[soundlessmind]

before i write this out let me preface a little.

i can be pretty harsh sometimes, and largely the effortless and restricted cluster-fuck that is tweet threads along with the incentive to be as mean and hate driven as possible to up your exposure did not help me mentally all these years.

sometimes my character is meant to be someone that is just against the world because largely that has been my walk of life. i am not accepted by many, if any, and it really wasn't my choice i just kinda got driven here.

however-

i see this kind of content slop in my youtube feed more and more these days.

and it probably is actually more my fault than youtubes cause i fell down a rabbit hold and spiraled into a major depressive episode that i didn't even realize was happening- yknow what, it doesn't matter.

the point being is not if this is rage bait or not, the point is the attitude this kind of media carries. this entitlement to intrigue that most people ive met seem to have in that-

you are not that interesting.

and i don't necessarily mean that to be insulting, its just fact, people are not as interesting as they want to believe.

but you CAN be.

the problem i see with a lot of people that hit this wall in their social lives is that they have nothing to say to people, which is a problem i have too.

i currently experience that with basically everyone that i don't either have some parental or romantic drive to try and i guess "help"?

as for how to BECOME more interesting...

i haven't figured that out

but i have noticed a common mistake that people tend to make when say..

making new friends

going on dates

hitting social gatherings

hitting up the cashier at your local supermarket

and probably many many more!

the problem being

you aren't offering any real part of yourself first.

you just walk up to people and expect them to have a meticulously crafted buzzfeed-esque laundry list of questions memorized primed and ready to fire at any given point.

it doesn't help the other person for you to constrict the conversation to only things you think to talk about, you have to be open to the narrative that unfolds as you explore the uncommon path.

you have to indulge your intrusive thoughts and not think:

"i like talking about trains, so ill talk about trains, and if they mention anything other than trains ill just steer back to trains."

ive had three hours of sleep in the last two days, maybe 6 in the last 3, im running on fumes at this point so it's honestly very hard to put my thoughts into words at this exact moment.

but i see this kind of attitude a lot in my local area, especially with older people, or people that come from specific social cliques.

but that's the south for you.

the problem is its an internalized entitlement to the idea that everyone needs to take an interest in you specifically and must have something to say and if they don't they are a bad person.

no one has ever cared about me, people walk up in public and call me ugly to my face. people do not defend me, people do not stand up for me. my feelings are never considered in anyone's mind no matter what i do in most every case.

it's not until i fight back and make people scared to confront me that these things are considered, it doesn't matter how nice i try to be.

im just an ugly guy, so it must not matter, or i must deserve it.

so fine, im insane, im "unstable," but let me ask you something. if it were you, if you'd been the one outcast from pretty much everywhere you've ever gone, would you not be the same?

like people already don't like me on sight as someone that fucking sucks just visually, even if they've never met or heard of me before.

something about me just rubs people the wrong way.

when honestly im just generally uncomfortable outside of my home because people get this attitude with me out of nowhere because im an anxious person because people get this attitude with me out of nowhere because im anxious that someone might get this attitude with me out of nowhere and it has led me to become a very angry and distrusting person that would rather be hated than try to make friends.

and no matter how old i get this doesn't seem to change.

people want a character

i craft a character

they hate it

i change the character

they hate that

i stop playing a character

no one is comfortable around me

im not really sure how to end this post, i think i just wanted to straight face this and actually get it off my chest in a more serious and non exaggerated tone.

my point is im very tired of people, and i really don't mean to upset anyone, but no matter where i go or what i do- which options are limited- with my life, i cant seem to really get along with anyone without scaring the shit out of them first.

like presenting myself as a kind of threat that will never come.

or one that was never meant for you?

it's hard to say, im not really sure who i am around others anymore, i only know who i am when im alone.

[seriously-mike]

Midjourney Is Full Of Shit

Last December, some guys from the IEEE newsletter, IEEE Spectrum whined about "plagiarism problem" in generative AI. No shit, guys, what did you expect?

But, let's get specific for a moment: they noticed that Midjourney generated very specific images from very general keywords like "dune movie 2021 trailer screencap" or "the matrix, 1999, screenshot from a movie". You'd expect that the outcome would be some kind of random clusterfuck making no sense. See for yourself:

In most of the examples depicted, Midjourney takes the general composition of an existing image, which is interesting and troubling in its own right, but you can see that for example Thanos or Ellie were assembled from some other data. But the shot from Dune is too good. It's like you asked not Midjourney, but Google Images to pull it up.

Of course, when IEEE Spectrum started asking Midjourney uncomfortable questions, they got huffy and banned the researchers from the service. Great going, you dumb fucks, you're just proving yourself guilty here. But anyway, I tried the exact same set of keywords for the Matrix one, minus Midjourney-specific commands, in Stable Diffusion (setting aspect ratio given in the MJ prompt as well). I tried four or five different data models to be sure, including LAION's useless base models for SD 1.5. I got... things like this.

It's certainly curious, for the lack of a better word. Generated by one of newer SDXL models that apparently has several concepts related to The Matrix defined, like the color palette, digital patterns, bald people and leather coats. But none of the attempts, using none of the models, got anywhere near the quality or similarity to the real thing as Midjourney output. I got male characters with Neo hair but no similarity to Keanu Reeves whatsoever. I got weird blends of Neo and Trinity. I got multiplied low-detail Neo figures on black and green digital pattern background. I got high-resolution fucky hands from an user-built SDXL model, a scenario that should be highly unlikely. It's as if the data models were confused by the lack of a solid description of even the basics. So how does Midjourney avoid it?

IEEE Spectrum was more focused on crying over the obvious fact that the data models for all the fucking image generators out there were originally put together in a quick and dirty way that flagrantly disregarded intellectual property laws and weren't cleared and sanitized for public use. But what I want to know is the technical side: how the fuck Midjourney pulls an actual high-resolution screenshot from its database and keeps iterating on it without any deviation until it produces an exact copy? This should be impossible with only a few generic keywords, even treated as a group as I noticed Midjourney doing a few months ago. As you can see, Stable Diffusion is tripping absolute motherfucking balls in such a scenario, most probably due to having a lot of images described with those keywords and trying to fit elements of them into the output image. But, you can pull up Stable Diffusion's code and research papers any time if you wish. Midjourney violently refuses to reveal the inner workings of their algorithm - probably less because it's so state-of-the-art that it recreates existing images without distortions and more because recreating existing images exactly is some extra function coded outside of the main algorithm and aimed at reeling in more schmucks and their dollars. Otherwise, there wouldn't be that much of a quality jump between movie screenshots and original concepts that just fall apart into a pile of blorpy bits. Even more coherent images like the grocery store aisle still bear minor but noticeable imperfections caused by having the input images pounded into the mathemagical fairy dust of random noise. But the faces of Dora Milaje in the Infinity War screenshot recreations don't devolve into rounded, fractal blorps despite their low resolution. Tubes from nasal plugs in the Dune shot run like they should and don't get tangled with the hairlines and stitches on the hood. This has to be some kind of scam, some trick to serve the customers hot images they want and not the predictable train wrecks. And the reason is fairly transparent: money. Rig the game, turn people into unwitting shills, fleece the schmucks as they run to you with their money hoping that they'll always get something as good as the handful of rigged results.

[thepensivepost]

From Aches to Healthy Nails: Tips for Preventing and Treating Nail Disorders

Having strong, healthy nails is essential for everyone: men and women. But between life’s daily stressors and our busy schedules, many of us don’t pay attention to our nails until it’s too late – usually when something goes wrong. And if you're in Vegas? try to check out the Best Vegas Nail Salon and ask the experts! more info

Whether you notice pain or redness around your nail beds, experience uncomfortable hangnails, or just want to take preventative measures, now’s the time to get serious about taking care of your nails!

In this blog post, I'm going to give both men and women some professional tips on how to keep their nails the way they should be - from preventing major ailments to quick remedies for common issues click here. So let's dive in and learn together all there is to know about looking after our hands' beauty accessories!

Overview of common nail disorders

Nail disorders can be a real drag, both literally and figuratively! From brittleness to discoloration to thickening, these annoyances can make your manicures a nightmare.

Fortunately, most common nail disorders are treatable with the help of a physician or podiatrist. In the meantime, there are various solutions you can implement -- using customer-grade products such as nail strengtheners and moisturizers -– to ease some symptoms.

And by establishing a regular care routine, you can actively prevent its recurrence in the future!

Understanding the causes and symptoms of nail problems

From discoloration to fungus, the problems your nails may face can be daunting and seem unapproachable. Taking the time to understand what causes nail issues and being aware of potential symptoms can help you tackle any issue head-on.

Causes and symptoms of nail problems:

1. Nail problems can be caused by several different things, including infection, injury, and skin conditions.

2. The most common symptom of a nail problem is pain. Other symptoms can include redness, swelling, and discharge from the affected area.

3. Nail problems can often be treated at home with over-the-counter medications. However, more severe cases may require treatment from a doctor or dermatologist.

4. Some common home remedies for nail problems include soaking the affected area in warm water, applying an antibiotic ointment, and using a bandage to protect the area.

5. More severe cases of nail problems may require oral antibiotics or surgery. In some cases, the affected nail may need to be removed completely.

6. Nail problems are relatively common, and most people will experience at least one during their lifetime.

7. Nail problems can usually be prevented by keeping the nails clean and trimmed, and avoiding activities that can lead to injury.

8. Some people are more susceptible to nail problems than others, due to factors such as genetics or underlying health conditions.

9. Nail problems can be unsightly and painful, but they are usually not serious and can be treated effectively

When to seek professional help?

Regardless of how independent and self-sufficient we would like to appear, there are always times in life when professional help can make a big difference. It not only affects your feelings and well-being but also pushes you closer to your goals more quickly.

Seeking help doesn't mean you are weak or inferior; it just indicates that you understand the importance of getting appropriate assistance from an experienced person who is equipped with the right skills and knowledge.

Therefore, don’t feel ashamed or awkward, take a proactive step towards seeking assistance early on to save yourself time, energy, and future distress.

Maintaining good overall health for healthy nails

Taking good care of your nails involves taking good care of yourself. Keeping your body healthy is the key to strong, sturdy nails that can be grown out long or kept short.

Eating a balanced diet with plenty of fruit, vegetables, and protein will ensure your nails get all of the nutrients they need to compete in the modern world.

Exercise is important too – not only does it burn calories but it also increases blood flow which helps keep our bodies running like well-oiled machines.

Getting enough rest and sleep every night is essential for overall health and helps prevent breakage and splitting in our nails thanks to better mental clarity.

Lastly, don't forget hydration! Staying hydrated helps strengthen nails from the inside out, keeping them looking great no matter how often you change up your manicures!

Caring for your nails with occasional trimming and regular moisturizing, wearing gloves during household activities that put hands at risk, and consulting dermatologists about disorder recurrence or suspected changes in the nails should serve as common practices for avoiding major issues.

Furthermore, learning more on various topics from reputable sources and living a healthy lifestyle are two important aspects to aid in the prevention or symptom relief of nail disorders. For those looking for professional nail treatments from a reliable salon in Las Vegas, Best Vegas Nail Salon has years of experience providing excellent salon care that work to keep hands beautiful and healthy. So book your appointment today—you’ll be happy you did!

[prying-pandora666]

I weep for your reading comprehension. I blatantly said a platonic relationship would be great, simply not this creepy daddy/daughter crap. Stripping Maria of any authority?

My sibling in Dracula, what do you think positioning a strange man as her father is doing!?

A father figure isn’t a buddy. A father figure isn’t a good friend who sometimes mentors you. A father figure is explicitly someone who has authority over you! The very point being made is that demanding Alucard become Maria’s “father figure” as a way to remove any uncomfortable optics due to their age difference only makes the very situation they’re trying to correct worse!

Maria is not 6. She is 16. She has lived her whole life up until now without a father. After losing her mother so traumatically, what makes you think this girl is suddenly going to want to run to a strange man she’s never met to guide her and tell her what to do? Fathers don’t just hang out with you, they raise you, they have a hand in molding you. The Maria we meet in the show is independent and fights against authority—notably patriarchal authority too—and you’re telling me she’s suddenly going to rush to a stranger and want him to be her daddy?

The only way that makes any sense is if this adult man took advantage of her vulnerability after losing her mother to inappropriately insert himself. Something Alucard would never do and Richter would never allow. Why doesn’t the fandom want her trusted brother figure to play the role of father?

Tell me, what is the harm of a fantasy story about a fictional girl and a vampire anyway? They’re not real. So what is the issue? Is it actually harm to the fictional characters or to the audience who is watching and real? Is the problem that we are actually concerned about the well being of an imaginary drawing, or is it for the real girls who might have this sort of relationship normalized for them?

Because if it’s the latter then teaching them that strange men showing up to position themselves in an uneven power dynamic with you, such as in a “fatherly” relationship which requires you to be beholden to them to a certain extent without being able to question their authority on equal footing (because a parental and child relationship is inherently NOT an equal relationship), is a FAR worse example to set! This is how groomers operate. They present themselves as harmless and caring, often as peers or parental substitutes, and once they’ve slowly manipulated you into surrendering your sense of agency against them, once you’ve come to trust them rather than your own instincts, even learned to punish yourself for doubting them, that’s when they strike.

How in the world is that an acceptable dynamic for Alucard and Maria to have even if his intentions were 100% pure? How is it at all appropriate or healthy for this strange man—who she undoubtedly will find attractive because he’s a friggin dhampir designed to be—to be acting as an unquestionable authority figure in the life of this teen girl, even with those undertones of attraction? This is such a dangerous and exploitable dynamic.

And what irony to see you defend this crap on tumblr of all places! A website which has an unfortunate history of minors being groomed using these exact “I’ll be your dad” tactics! Seriously look it up!

Why is this better than them being friends? Friends who can be on equal footing. So Maria can stand up for herself and set her own boundaries rather than have Alucard decide them for her as her “dad”? What possible benefit is there to this strange, unequal but inappropriately intimate power dynamic between a strange man and a teen girl vs letting them be friends and colleagues who respect each other?

It’s not Bella Swan slander you ridiculous person. Edward stalks Bella long before she expressed interest in him and even sneaks into her room to watch her sleep at night. He’s controlling and holds all the power in their relationship, to the point Bella wanted to end herself when he left her because she had become so co-dependent on him. Hell, Edward removes the engine from her car—limiting her mobility against her will—because he decided this was best to “protect her”.

None of that is a healthy or equal power dynamic and if you think it is then that says everything about your judgement on this matter.

As I said in my original post, Alucard being a platonic friend with her is always an option. Nothing romantic will happen unless they commit to the time skip because that’s what happens in the games and there’s no way Netflix is going to do worse on this front than decades old games did. This was never an issue until the fandom made it one.

On Alucard and Maria

Are there actually fans advocating for Alucard to be written as Maria’s father figure in the new season of Nocturne? Like that would be a good thing and not infinitely creepier? I don’t think they’ve thought this through.

Alucard is the single most popular character in the franchise. He’s also probably the most shipped character. And yet he has only had one canon love interest in the decades since he’s existed. It’s Maria. And you’re telling me that you think that because he’s 300+ and she’s 17-18 when they started living together in the games, that it would be grooming. However, somehow him inserting himself into her life at age 16 when she’s just lost both her parents wouldn’t come off like grooming!?

Does this man look like he should be picking up random children!? He’s literally terrified of his own cursed blood. Maybe LISTEN TO HIM.

I’m convinced fandoms have forgotten what that word means. Grooming has specific features. It doesn’t just mean “older guy and younger girl.” A relationship with an age gap or an uneven power dynamic can be exploitative or abusive without being a case of grooming. Grooming specifically refers to the process of forming a relationship with a child with the intention of leveraging that relationship and trust to train and prepare (aka brainwash) your victim for the harmful activities the groomer wants to normalize. The relationship Alucard and Maria have in the games is in no way grooming. You know what would be grooming though?

Coming into a 16 year old’s life when she’s vulnerable, traumatized, and recently orphaned only to insinuate yourself as a new father figure. This is so highly inappropriate and a huge red flag. Consider what you’re actually asking for here. These characters do not exist in a a vacuum. They have a long history together as each other’s only canon love interests. You cannot fully extract them from the games, art, interviews, audio dramas, animations, and more where they’re depicted as a couple. There are decades of this precedent and you are asking Netflix to knowingly take the characters with an established romantic dynamic that the audience is already primed to see as romantic and instead portray their meeting as him trying to be her new daddy?

“Oh look! Alucard and his… daughter? Yikes.” This is an official advertisement btw.

THAT is grooming! Think about the optics of this! It would be abysmal! No it would NOT fix the problem of their age gap to make him act like a groomer and get in good with her as a dad. You just cannot completely extract them from the legacy of their relationship in the source materials. It will be incredibly creepy and textbook grooming if you get your way.

Is this really what you want to associate with an “adoptive father Alucard”? Because the art we create doesn’t exist in a vacuum. All the old content—official and fanmade—is still going to exist.

What is so objectionable about the original dynamic anyway? It’s a pretty fun subversion of the tired and problematic vampire trope of “vampire man stalks teen girl and coerces her into being his”. Instead in their original relationship, Maria is the one who pursues Alucard! It’s the young woman who takes initiative and is given the agency to go after what she wants. She courts and woos him. That’s part of the fun!

Yes, Alucard is 300+. He’s also a fictional creature that doesn’t actually exist IRL and stays eternally young. There are no actual people who will ever have his problem of staying 20 forever so it’s rather silly to say he can’t date any humans because of course he will have an age gap with any of them.

The only real problem I have seen people bring up is Maria’s age, but from what I can tell, the show’s already fixed this. Check it out.

In The Games

Rondo of Blood: Maria is 12. She and Alucard do not meet. Richter is a brother-figure and not romantic.

There is then a 5 year time skip.

Symphony of the Night: Maria is 17. She and Alucard meet to save Richter. At the end, Alucard says his goodbyes and intends to return to a life of solitude. Maria goes after him because she has developed feelings for him and doesn’t want him to suffer a life alone.

Maria is given agency to pursue what she wants and prove herself even against Alucard’s resistance and hesitance to let another person into his life.

They spend a year together before we get the audio drama.

Nocturne of Remembrance: Maria continues to try to get close to Alucard. They end up saving each other’s lives and in the end he finally confesses his romantic feelings for her. She is an adult and perfectly able to make her own choices. She chose him. He admits he returns her feelings.

How fandom can look at a story about a young woman subverting the trope and chasing the vampire to get what she wants—basically an anti-Bella Swan—and still find a way to disempower her just so they can pearl clutch? I couldn’t tell you.

So now let’s look at what the show did.

In The Show

Nocturne S1: Maria is 16. She’s been aged up from 12, probably to give her a more active and believable role. But this also means she’s within a normal age to start feeling attraction and expressing her wants. Within her society, she’s even considered of marriageable age. However we are spared the discomfort of our modern values clashing with her contemporaneous ones because Maria in this season isn’t interested in romance. She’s interested in revolution, equality, justice. They’ve portrayed her with so much love and strength. There is no indication they’d betray her by writing her as the child victim of a male suitor. In fact she only meets Alucard in the final few seconds of the season and the two do not even speak a single word to one another.

Now let’s remember the games had a five year time skip. The show only needs two years to get Maria to the adult age of 18, but assuming the follow through with the timeline and go for the full five?

Maria will be 21.

21.

Fan concept for adult Maria. Credit:@esp-art

Are you telling me a 21 year old woman is not old or mature enough to make her own decisions? How is this not a total infantilization of women? Do you think a 21 year old badass vampire hunter needs protection from the ace depressed dhampir boy who just wants to sleep and has in no way tried to pursue her until after she expressed consistent and persistent interest in him?

It is not “grooming” to meet someone when they were younger and then meet them again years later as an adult. That’s a thing that happens! In real life! Adults can still make decisions for themselves! It is only grooming if Alucard behaved in a way that would manipulate teen Maria and put her under his control and authority before she can consent. There is no indication that Alucard in the show is going to do this. And yet the fandom is basically demanding it by saying he should make her “his baby girl”?

And what of Maria’s feelings in all this? She just lost her mother and was betrayed by her father shortly after discovering he even existed. She has lived her whole life without a father. She is in no desperate need of a new one. And if she does need a family member, she already has one! Richter is 19 and is her trusted adoptive brother. Why wouldn’t she go to him over a total stranger she just met and who is half vampire - literally a predator creature that feeds on humans!?

Yeah, hi, Richter Belmont still exists. He and Maria consider each other family. Why would you want her relying on a strange man she just met as a “father figure” rather than her trusted and loving brother?

Have none of you even considered how Maria would feel if Alucard even tried to fill the paternal role? He’d have to force it on her through manipulation and coercion. No way she would want to view him that way. Especially considering she is 16 and likely to be as attracted to the sparkly 20 year old looking sculpted marble beauty as anyone else!

Don’t mind the beautiful eternally young man who looks made of pure porcelain and light. No teen girl has ever been attracted to this, right? No way it could be exploitative and creepy for him to present himself as her new daddy, giving himself authority and influence over her as his child to mold as he wishes, right? Oh yeah, this is MUCH better than Maria pursuing him of her own volition once she becomes an adult, right guys?

We are truly in the stupidest dark timeline.

Frankly, I don’t care if Netflix has them get together or not. They would work just fine as friends too. I just sure as hell hope they’ll ignore the fans clamoring for a creepy daddy/daughter dynamic. Dressing it up as “concern” won’t hide that for some it’s a fetish, and for others they’re just useful idiots who haven’t thought it through.

I implore you to think it through.

[dragonsareourfuture]

Ways the Death Note Cast Show They Trust You

I lost some inspiration towards the middle there, I’m sorry!!

L

- he will always have Watari make extra servings of food just for you. It’s a bit startling at first. So suddenly there’s just food in front of you that you think is for L, but when you push it towards him, he pushes it right back to you.

“You don’t want it?” He’d ask, leaving you confused until you finally put the pieces together.

“Oh, I…I guess I didn’t realize it was for me. My bad.” You begin eating. “Thank you.”

L simply hums and continues with whatever he was just up to.

- You know that thing cats do where they’re sitting perfectly still, eyes closed, guard slightly down, but still not quite asleep? I can picture L doing something like this during any moment of downtime he gets. Just sitting, scrunched up in his chair or wherever he happens to be, eyes closed but the cogs in his brain are still turning. You notice him doing this when it is only you and him in the room, simply thinking it’s because of the moment of rare solitude. Little do you know, it’s because he trusts that you won’t hurt him or let anything bad happen to him.

- L is a person who prefers to be in charge of his own life. He likes knowing what’s going on around him at all times and when things are out of his hands he can’t help but feel uncomfortable. However, with a person he’s developed a close relationship with and knows he can trust with everything he has, L will feel more comfortable leaving decisions up to them. You’ll have to start small though, like being the one to plan a surprise date. He might feel a bit uncomfy at the beginning, shifting around and possibly even insisting he sit so that he can see the exits clearly, but he eases into it eventually. Soon you both find yourselves joking around in the odd way that you do and gorging on cake and ice cream.

Mello

- being vulnerable is something Mello isn’t too keen on. He already feels vulnerable most of the time and would kick himself if he let that show through his actions. If Mello truly trusts you, he will feel as though he can be vulnerable around you without any judgement on your end. Small acts that show vulnerability such as asking you to help him with something he can’t quite handle on his own — even if it’s something as simple as not being able to reach something off a shelf or being unsure about how to fix something. Eventually, he’ll work his way up to the bigger stuff like being physically wounded in front of you or having a mental block.

- Sharing his clothes with you or letting you pick his outfit for him. Now, it sounds like he’s just being a little diva and that’s only partially true. But his clothes are important to him, they’re a factor that sets him aside from his plain-dressing rival and in his eyes they make him more interesting than him, visually at least. He’s happy to dress you up, and it is true that he has to have a close relationship with you to want to do so, but you should be especially proud if he lets you alter his appearance in any way.

- He likes to believe that he’s had his goals set out from the beginning. Surpass Near, become the next L, and go on from there. What he pushes to the back of his brain are the moments he’s been studying and he’s asked himself ‘What if I went down a different path?’. He quickly pushes these thoughts away, but they keep coming back. What would life be like if this wasn’t an option for him? What if he were a writer? What if he lived in the city with people he loves and went to the movies every Friday? Unwillingly, he has a whole list of possibilities. If he truly trusts you, he’ll share every single one with you. Whether it’s dropping hints or confessing them one by one late at night, he can’t help but feel that they’re safe with you.

Misa

- it seems a bit surface level, but it’s true — Misa will talk down on Light in front of you if she trusts you. But it’s not straight away. She had developed a lot of courage to actually break up with him, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t still doubt her decision to do so. It’s only when she finds out from you how loved ones are supposed to treat each other — with kindness and respect — that she feels her decision to ditch Light was the entirely right one. Slowly, she’ll start to admit to you all the things she hated about Light, starting with some of his mannerisms and building up to something like how he forced her to leave the entertainment business.

- Misa is…dramatic. She likes to go above and beyond for someone she’s infatuated with and make sure they’re the happiest they can be. If she trusts you enough to develop this kind of infatuation and, with some development, less of an obsession and more of a strong, bonding love, you will be doted on to the point where it’s almost ridiculous. You could be at home during one of her work days and you’ll get a delivery of lunch from your favorite takeout place because Misa was ‘thinking of you <3’, as she explains when you text her asking why food randomly showed up at your place. It’s rather sweet.

- Misa’s a pretty talkative person in general, that’s a well known fact. She’ll talk about clothes, a cute birdie she saw on her way home, really anything that comes to mind. But, she’ll do that with about anyone who’ll listen. It’s gradual, so it’s hard to notice, but if Misa grows to trust you she’ll start talking about some of the more serious things that have been on her mind for a while, those things that she thought would scare off anyone she liked because of how personal they are to her. Her family before they died, for example. It’s something that Misa thinks about. So much. But she doesn’t really talk about it. She wants to forget, put the past behind her but because she’s never talked about it with anyone it’s hard to do that. She’ll talk about her family to you, the little things her sister used to do and some things her parents did that she misses.

Matsuda

- Matsuda often begins to idolize those who he thinks are trustworthy and have a good heart. He starts to tell you how much he loves when you do x and that he wishes he could perform as well as you in that area. In a sense, he trusts you with his vulnerability, letting you know that he thinks of himself as less than satisfactory and how he wishes he could do better, only he channels it by pointing out good things about you. If…that makes sense.

- This sounds dire, but he’ll risk his life for the people he completely, without a doubt trusts. He was willing to do so with Chief Yagami, someone he saw as a father figure, and he would certainly be willing to do so with you, someone who he feels he has a deep emotional connection to. Whether you’re in a situation where he would need to or he’s just saying that he would, he means it.

- Matsuda trusts you to not make fun of him when he overshares or talks too much or anything his coworkers brush him off for. He feels that he can talk about things he finds funny and talk about his life without worrying about what you think of him when he does.

Matt

- he would drop everything to help you. Whether that’s dropping his game to help you kill a bug or leaving his duties behind to help you out of a life or death situation. Whichever scenario you happen to find yourself in he’s there no matter what.

- He’ll invite you into his personal life. I know this is kind of a given but Matt had the chance to become the next L. He had the chance to become something “great” and he said “ummm rather not” to it because it wasn’t something he wanted. If he shares this information with you, he trusts you not to leave him for something better when you discover the status he could have had and refused. He trusts you to appreciate him because of him and not the intelligence everyone but him cherishes.

- He leaves you alone around important technology and software he’s hacked. Unfortunately for him, betrayal comes with the business he’s got himself into and, if Matt really trusts you on both a professional and emotional level, he won’t have a problem worrying about whether or not you’ll take advantage of his coffee break to gather information for some other organization or something. He will literally just go “mkay babe I gotta go fuel up on caffeine real quick, you’re good watching the hacked government database right? Cool cya.”

Near

- Near trusts you to take him to public places. Sounds simple, yeah. But Near has never liked crowds, or even just too many strangers in a wide open place. It’s strange to everyone observing how one day he decides he needs a new toy, his old one having broken due to old age, and asks you to take him to the toy store. He’s questioned, people wondering why he wouldn’t rather you just go alone but Near insists. Apparently the toy that broke is special addition and he wants to make sure you get the right one. He stays close to you the whole way, not really saying much, but he’s there and that’s a big step for him.

- He helps you out with puzzles. Basically cheats for you. When he’s eyeing one specific empty slot, coughing lightly to get your attention, just know that he’s not helping you because he thinks you need it. Quite the opposite actually. With anyone else, he believes that they should be able to solve it on their own. He thinks that if they can’t, then that’s their fault. But with you…it’s as if he trusts that you’re intelligent enough without the puzzle being an indicator of that intelligence, so much so that he thinks the puzzle itself is obsolete when it comes to you. He doesn’t need a puzzle to know how smart you are.

- He’ll eat the foods you make him. Near’s picky eater-ness is above that of a child who only eats chicken tenders and pizza. He doesn’t eat that many people’s food because he knows it’s probably not he way he likes it. But with you, he trusts that you respect his eating habits and know him well enough to get it right the first time. Though he does check the food out for a bit, he’ll eat it. Sometimes all of it. Fuckin astonishing to Rester who had attempted many times to heat up microwave dinners for the guy.

[whiskehorange]

Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you but I’ve been feeling down lately and I really enjoy reading ur blog. Is it ok if you do Jason, micheal, bubba Thomas, Brahms ,pyramid head, asa and Harry warden if possible with an S/O who’s usually happy and willing and all of a sudden she breaks down one day bawling on the couch or something and she didn’t know they were there, not wanting to make them upset or sad? Sorry if it’s really sad, I just need a lil love, I love u and ur blog! Thank you! Take your time and drinks lots of water!

Jason

Uhm, excuse me bitch what in the fuck is going on? You gave you the right to scare the shit out of Jason like that?

When he first came home the weeping made him freeze. He was positive it wasn’t you, he had never even seen you frown before so this absolutely cannot be your crying. Yet, as he walked in to see you whip around, tears streaming down your face as you look at him in pure shock you almost send him falling backwards

He doesn’t even care what made you cry of feel this way he’s going to be up your ass the entire day. Coddling, kissing, rubbing, and doing any and all for of comforting that he knows how to do

Jason absolutely hates seeing you cry, especially as hard as you did. You’re more than welcome to talk to him about it for as long as you want whenever you want and all he will do is listen and comfort you

Jason is a very physically affectionate man, even though he is a bit hesitant at first, so when you feel yourself in a time like this, you bess’ believe that he’s going to be around you 24/7. Even a few days after that, he needs to be your therapist (which he’s real good at)

Michael

You won’t be able to see it, but Michael is panicking and sweating bullets underneath that mask. It’s an immediate fight or fight response

Michael, overall, isn’t too good with handling other peoples emotions, so don’t be surprised when he doesn’t come to you right away for any sort of comfort in those "typically ways"

Hugging, coddling, cuddling, and any typeof caressing is going to come later in the day when things have begun to quiet down. Not only is he completely unused to having to comfort you in anyway like this, but he's pretty pissed at whatever made you come to this point

The main thing Michael wants you to do is to talk to him, tell him what's wrong so that he knows just how to handle the situation: either to kill or to... not know what to do

It's very safe to say that he will get better with knowing how to comfort you if this does ever happen again, which he really hopes it won't.

Bubba

There is a lot that can make Bubba cry, at this is one of the times he wasn't expecting to. Everyday, no matter how hard it was for him, he knew he could count on your cheery face to great him when he comes running back inside

His first reaction is to panic; he's never been put in this sort of situation before with you and he really doesn't know how to approach you. He sort of just sits awkwardly next to you and whines

Comfort does eventually find your way with pets and hugs, there aren't really any verbal affirmations he can give you, but for what he lacks in communication he can make up with physical affection one way or another

A downside to Bubba, however, is that he almost has an out-of-sight-out-of-mind personality realistically. So don't get too upset if when you have some space from him that same day that he'll sort of forget you've been upset

In that case, be prepared for the exact same meltdown when he figures out how upset you've been for the second time

Thomas

Thomas' defense mode in immediately activated. Never would he have thought that he would have to be on the comforting side so you'll have to give him a minute, but it really isn't even that long

He's gentle and patient, he knows what its like to feel such extreme motions and most of all that they are pretty hard to get out, so take your time and he'll be here with you until you're back up on your feet. Literally

To say you scared him would be an understatement, but he pushes that aside to genuinely make sure that you are not physically hurt, because if that was the case whoever did it should be the one scared

Instead, Thomas has somewhere quiet for you to go with him, the least he would want is for Hoyt to complain about such "loud" crying in the house. It's better for him to give out physically comforting, too!

His go to's are hugs and petting/caressing, it's what he would want. It's comforting to say the least, but the fact that you can't even breath right doesn't go down well when he's crushing your spinal cord in a bear hug

Braham

However oblivious, he's oddly able to tell that you're acting different before you even get the chance to melt down. From all of the time spent watching you from within the walls, you can say that he knows you like the back of his hand

Brahms has absolutely no clue how to address you. Of course he's fended for himself for a long time but any sort of emotional help is foreign to him

He'll come around, of course, the moment that you do breakdown he's by your side and he's ready to do just about anything you tell him to do but he's on edge

However, the sort of comfort you will get from him will be physical, it's the best way he can quickly show any form of care for you that he thinks will work. Brahms absolutely hates seeing you this way because he want to be able to fix the problem and he just doesn't know how

He insists that you tell him whats wrong as he holds you, curled up, in his lap. Gently caressing your head and face as he listens to your soft cries and explanation. It's the best he can do for you and he knows that that he'll have to pay close attention to when you baby him next, that way he's prepared for whenever this might happen next

Pyramid Head

What the fuck even? Pyramid Head isn't going to catch on too soon, but the moment he hears your cries from anywhere he is by your side immediately

He hates it the most out everyone on this list, and I mean that heavily. Not only does he go on rampages because he doesn't know what's wrong, but it pisses him off to no end that he doesn't know how to handle it

Pyramid Head wants so bad to be able to comfort you and understand what's made you this upset that he can come across as a little overbearing, but mainly clingy. He doesn't leave your side well after you've stopped crying and makes sure to keep an eye on you from now on so that he can possibly be there before this happens again

While he isn't able to properly communicate to you, a lot of his body language displays signs of uncomforted alongside you. Just about any emotion you feel he absorbs and feels it right with you, mainly because its his way of showing you that you're not alone and he's here to spend this time with you

Just please don't ever do that again it's so stressful he likes seeing you bubbly not sad omfg-

Asa

Asa is the most unreadable, really. He's able to keep his composure the entire time as you bawl your eyes out before him, but inside he's shaking up a little. He doesn't like seeing you upset whens it's not for play of course, so it comes as a bit of a surprise for even him

He's a little hesitant to comfort you because he is surprised, but is also just one of the most distant when it comes to comfort in this way, While being used to your much brighter personality, eventually he'll get better at it for for the time being, you don't have to deal with much of him

There is some physical reassurance, so you're not completely neglected, but Asa does have other things to do. He gently takes you in his arms and leads you up to the bedroom where he lays you down, caressing your head and covering you up

He'll leave to get you water or a drink and some other small things like your phone or a small snack if you haven't eaten, but mostly your phone so that you can call or text him if you need him. From there he'll shut the lights iff and let you get a bit of sleep

Asa stays in the house and cancels any outside plans for the day and makes sure that his phone's ringer is on at all times. By the time you call him for something he'll be up to your room before the ringtone even ends

Harry

Harry is most definitely clueless and will feel like he's going to cry right alongside you. Harry is not good at handling his own emotions let alone yours

He adored being around your bright and shining face everyday, it was something that could regulate his own and he clung to you like a moth to a lamp. So, you can only image the confusion and terror Harry experiences when he comes home to you the complete opposite

It's a very frantic sort of comfort that he gives you, moving from one thing to another to try to figure out what's wrong and what do to. It's really almost as if Harry feels your emotions stronger than you do, but he wants to do everything in his power to fix you

He comes home extra aware in the future, always prepared to be there by your side in hopes to deal with your feelings better, but he still doesn't like it at all. He goes out of his way to do more things around the house of for you in general to lessen up any stress, even if there was none in the first place

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Hungry Eyes

masterlist

Summary: Spencer is tired of hiding your relationship. 

A/N: The idea for this fic came from a lovely anon that requested a fic based on She’s So Nice by Pink Guy. I also drew inspo from Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen (strange mix, but stay with me here.) So basically, a lot of Dom!Spencer goodness. I’d like to say a huge thank you for almost 1k followers, because wow. I never imagined 5 people would actually want to read my writing. I love you all, and I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future works!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing, jealousy, degradation, spitting, slapping, oral sex (male and female receiving), spanking, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex

Word Count: 5.5k

           “That is one fine piece of ass. Don’t think I could get any work done with a sweet little thing like that prancing around my precinct,” mutters yet another sleezeball detective, beady eyes trained on you like a lion might study their prospective prey. It’s moments like these that Spencer has to remind himself that patience is a virtue – that he must bite his tongue because he’s at work and that means he has to act professional. Even if those around him don’t seem capable of affording him the same luxury.

           So, it’s with a clenched jaw and all the self-restraint that he can muster that Spencer forces himself to focus on the task at hand. Because Spencer is a professional, and there are more pressing matters that demand his undivided attention. The detective could be dealt with later – in the form of a complaint to the higher ups. But for now, patience.

           Usually, this wouldn’t be a problem. Years on the job had taught Spencer to remain level headed no matter the circumstance. Usually, Spencer could tune out the locker room talk in favor of immersing himself into the case. But when it came to you, or rather, people who dared to look upon you with eyes laden with lustful intentions, Spencer had a rather short fuse.

           It happens often, and he supposes that he shouldn’t be surprised. You’d certainly turned his head the first time he was fortunate enough to lay eyes on you. He’d nearly broken his neck trying to steal another glimpse of you as you walked past him on your way to Emily’s office on your first day. No one would ever describe Spencer Reid as forward, but on that day, he was the most brazen he’d ever been.

           Throwing caution to the wind, Spencer made a split-second decision stop you and introduce himself.

           It was the best decision he would ever make.

           So, yes – he understood why the head of everyone you passed turned your way, eager to bask in your unparalleled beauty. But that didn’t mean that he had to like it. In fact, every time Spencer caught some imprudent bastard leering at you, he had to remind himself that enacting physical force on another person with no real reason could cost him his job. That, and he was above resorting to violence – or at least he was, until you came around.  

           Part of his anger was rooted in the obvious lack of respect. It didn’t matter if Spencer held your hand in his as the two of you walked down the street, or if he kissed you on the lips in the middle of a crowded restaurant. All the PDA in the world did nothing to assuage the lingering stares, and Spencer felt his sanity chip away with every passing day.

           In the beginning, keeping his relationship with you a secret from your colleagues seemed like a good enough idea. Both of you were in agreement that you didn’t want to your personal relationship to affect your professional one, so when the elevator doors opened up and the two of you stepped out into the bullpen, you both were on your best behavior. And it was okay at first – Spencer was able to put his romantic feelings aside and focus on his work, all while still being able to make eyes at you from across the room. It was the perfect arrangement.

           Until it wasn’t.

           Because it wasn’t enough that you were gorgeous – you were also the most selfless person that Spencer had ever met. Always eager to lend a hand to anyone in need – always seeing the best in everyone, regardless of if they deserve it or not. It was an admirable quality to have, and he loved you for it, but on days like today he wishes you were a little more perceptive.

           That, and he wishes you’d chosen to wear anything but the tight little skirt and low-cut top that you were currently sporting. Not that he didn’t love the way the fabric clung to your figure like it was tailor-made for you – because he did - it was just that every other male in the precinct seemed to enjoy it as much as he did. And that made Spencer’s blood boil.

           The tipping point comes when, just as Spencer is trying to hunt you down and propose a quick lunch break, he finds you engaging in conversation with the very same detective that had been spouting lewd comments about you all morning. You’re seated at the breakroom table, clutching a fresh cup of coffee in hand as you look up at the man, a polite smile upturning your lips as you listen to him drone on about how his amateur baseball team had won some stupid fucking tournament the previous weekend. He’s smiling down at you, endlessly smug and way too pleased with himself at having captured your attention.

           It makes Spencer sick.

           His reprieve comes when your eyes flit to the doorway and you flash him a breathtaking smile. It makes him warm from the inside out, and Spencer wants nothing more than to plant kiss after kiss on your lips. Unfortunately, he can’t, so he settles on returning your smile.

           “There you are,” Spencer greets as he crosses the room before coming to a stop next to you. “I was thinking we could go grab lunch.”

           “Is it really lunch time already?” you murmur as you glance down at your watch. “I guess I let the day get away from me. Detective Yarborough was just telling me about the baseball game his team won this weekend.”

           “Oh, was he now,” Spencer feigns interest as he turns to face the man.

           “Yup,” you say, completely oblivious to the uncomfortable tension. “Didn’t you tell me you played in a baseball game once?”

           This piques the interest of Yarborough and he raises an eyebrow at Spencer.

           “You play?” he asks, tone laden with disbelief.

           “Not exactly.”

           The detective merely harrumphs in response, and an uncomfortable silence falls on the room.

           Your eyes dart between the two men and your brows furrow adorably as you try to make sense of the almost palpable animosity.

           “Okay… So, lunch. Did you have anything in mind, Spence?”

           “There’s a really good pizza joint two blocks from here,” Yarborough chimes in. “I could show you, if you like.”

           He acts as if the offer extends to you both, but the way he looks only at you when he says it tells Spencer otherwise.

           “The hospitality is appreciated, but that won’t be necessary,” Spencer breezes, clipped and to the point. He’s able to see in his peripheral vision the way your eyebrows raise in shock, but he’s too busy glaring at the detective to care.

           “Uh, yeah. Thanks anyways, Detective,” you mutter confusedly as you stand.

           “Anything for a pretty lady such as yourself,” he replies. “And you can call me Trevor.”

           Spencer’s hands are clenched into fists and he has to actually bite down on his tongue to keep from doing something he’d surely regret later. You bid Trevor ado with a smile and a parting wave, and then Spencer’s ushering you out of the room and down the hall, hand placed firmly on your back. He can’t do much in regards to initiating physical contact, but he allows himself this miniscule act of PDA. The feeling of your warmth radiating through your blouse is the only thing keeping him from giving into his primal instincts. Instincts that are screaming at him to put that smarmy bastard in his place.

--

           The hours after lunch pass by rather uneventfully. You accompany Tara when she goes to interview the victim’s family, and for the first-time all-day Spencer is able to repress his frustration long enough to focus on piecing together a geographical profile. By the time you and Tara return, the sun has long since disappeared from the sky and fatigue is rolling off everyone in waves. When Emily finally announces the end of the day, she’s met with absolutely no resistance.

           Spencer immediately scans the room for you, only to frown when he sees that you’re nowhere in sight. In fact, he hasn’t set eyes on you in well over an hour, too busy wrapping up the days’ work to notice your absence until now.

           “Has anyone seen Y/N?” Spencer calls out. His question is met by several shaking heads.

           “I think she’s busy,” JJ sing-songs, eyebrows waggling suggestively. Spencer’s frown only deepens.

           “Busy?”

           JJ nods.

           “Yarborough has been chomping at the bit to ask her to dinner. My guess is he’s got her cornered somewhere.”

           Of fucking course.

           Spencer’s out of his seat and stomping through the precinct in second, oblivious to the way his coworkers exchange curious glances as he storms off.

           He finds the two of you in much the same way as before, only this time Trevor is blocking your path to the doorway, hand in the air as he moves to tuck a stray piece of your hair behind your ear.

           “– C’mon, babe. Say you’ll go to dinner with me,” Trevor croons in a way that’s supposed to come off as seductive. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

           You lean backwards in an attempt to evade his touch, and you barely get the chance to open your mouth when Spencer intervenes.

           “She’s not interested.”

           The detective whips around, snorting in annoyance when he sees Spencer standing in the doorway.

           “What are you, her fucking keeper?” Trevor sneers, before turning back to face you. “Who does this guy think he is?”

           Something in Spencer snaps, then – the same something that has been swelling inside him for months, threatening to spill over every time he had to pretend that the stares didn’t enrage him. He’s tired of pretending, tired of hiding, and so, so fucking tired of not putting assholes like Trevor Yarborough in their place.

           Fueled by months of suppressed anger, Spencer manages to cross the room in about two seconds. He has several inches on the detective, standing at an intimidating six-foot one inch in height, so when he comes to a stop right in front of the detective, he’s looming over him threateningly.

           “I’m her fucking boyfriend, and if you so much as try to touch her again, I’ll break your goddamn hand,” Spencer spits out, and he’d be lying if he said the way Trevor’s eyes widen in fear doesn’t thrill him. “Are we clear?”

           “Uh, yeah. Sorry, dude,” Trevor splutters, raising his hands in surrender. “Didn’t know she was taken. My bad.”

           Spencer tears his eyes away from the detective and takes in the way you’re watching on with an amused expression. He reaches out, and you’re quick to place your hand in his. Without speaking another word to the detective, Spencer leads you from the room and out the back entrance of the precinct.

           “What was that?” you tease, eyes glistening mischievously underneath the street lights. “I thought we agreed that we weren’t taking things public just yet?”

           Spencer crowds you against the brick wall of the building, pressing his body flush against yours. He ducks down swiftly, pulling you into a frenzied kiss. His lips drag against yours relentlessly, and all it takes is one breathy moan before he’s licking into your mouth possessively. Spencer slots his knee in between your legs, simultaneously groping at your chest with one hand as the other tangles in your hair.

           When Spencer pulls away, he doesn’t go far. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck as you writhe against him, hands clinging tightly to his dress shirt. You whimper when his teeth nip at the tender spot right under your ear, and you can’t help the way your hips cant up when Spencer’s tongue brushes against reddened skin.

           “I’m tired of pretending,” Spencer murmurs as his mouth continues to move against you, sucking purple bruises against your flesh. “Don’t fucking care about how it will affect the job. Tomorrow, everyone’s gonna know that you’re mine. Gonna mark every inch of you tonight – gonna fuck you until you can’t fucking walk.”

           “Please,” you slur as you guide Spencer’s hand down until his fingers graze the end of your skirt. Spencer chuckles darkly against your neck when his hand brushes against the soiled lace of your panties.

           “Didn’t mean I’d fuck you right here,” he laughs, prompting you to let out an impatient whine. The hand that was previously tangled in your hair slides down until it’s wrapped around your throat, and Spencer’s cock twitches eagerly in his pants when you push your throat harder into his palm. “Such a needy little slut for me. Ready and willing for me to fuck you out in the open, where anyone could walk by and see how fucking desperate you are for my cock.”

           “M’ your slut,” you pant as Spencer’s middle and index fingers ghost across your center. “Only yours, Spence. I don’t care who sees, just - please fuck me!”

           “I fucking own you,” Spencer growls against your lips as he tightens his hold on your throat. “And as much as I’d love to take you right against this wall, the things I have planned for you would elicit quite an audience. I know how loud you like to be.”

           Spencer pushes your panties to the side and you let out a low hiss as he drags a finger across where want him most. You cry out in frustration when he removes his hand to bring it up to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick his finger clean.

           “Just needed a little taste to tide me over,” Spencer murmurs, smirking devilishly at you as he steps back from you. “Let’s head back to the hotel. I’ve got lots I wanna do to you, pretty girl.”

--

           As soon as the door to the hotel room clicks shut, clothes are flying off as the two of you make your way to the bed. It’s a mad dash as you both undress, and as soon as the last garment leaves your body, Spencer pounces on you. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, and the way you immediately go pliant as Spencer’s mouth works against yours makes him hum appreciatively.

           “Don’t feel like being nice tonight. Are you gonna let me use that pretty little pussy however I want?” Spencer inquires, though he already knows the answer. He’s known how tonight would pan out ever since the first roll of your hips against his back at the police station.

           You nod fervently, hopelessly, and Spencer moves his hand up to grip your chin in his hand. The pad of his thumb traces over the swollen skin of your kiss bruised lips.

           “What about this?” he asks, tapping lightly against your lip. “Are you gonna let me fuck this slutty little mouth of yours?” Spencer slips his thumb into your mouth and you immediately close your lips around the digit, suckling lightly. Your eyes never leave his.

           “You’d do anything I asked you to, wouldn’t you, pet?” Spencer muses, pressing his thumb farther into your mouth until you gag around him. Spencer withdraws his thumb and his hand tugs hard on the hair at the back of your scalp. “Open.”

           You oblige immediately, and Spencer spits into your waiting mouth. You swallow without being instructed, and the visual of it makes Spencer let out a low groan.

           “Get on your knees,” Spencer barks out, and the way you scramble to follow his order makes him let out a chuckle. “So eager to have my cock in your mouth,” he hums as he taps his dick teasingly against your cheek. You open your mouth wide for him, and Spencer guides your mouth down onto his dick at a tantalizingly slow pace. You let out a moan as you hollow your cheeks around his head, tongue lapping greedily at the precum that gathered there before Spencer makes you take him deeper.

           “Everyone thinks you’re such an innocent little thing, but here you are, letting me use you like a cheap whore while you enjoy every minute of it,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as you moan wantonly around his cock. It isn’t until he’s halfway down your throat that your eyes begin to water, mascara running down your cheeks as he fucks into your mouth.

           Spencer lets out a choked sound when your nose brushes against the skin of his abdomen, and he has to fight the urge to throw his head back in pleasure. He doesn’t want to look away, not even for a moment. Not when you’re looking up at him like that, tears running down your face as you swallow around his length.

           He pulls you off him just the tiniest bit before he’s forcing you back down, a string of curses falling from his lips as your head bobs up and down.

           “You take my cock so well, pretty girl,” Spencer praises, prompting you to let out a muffled moan around him. The vibrations send a shock of pleasure through him and he can help the way his hips stutter. “Fuck, baby. You like it when I tell you what a perfect little whore you are, don’t you?”

           You’re unable to answer, because Spencer presses down on the back of your head until you’ve taken all of him again. The pressure he puts on you doesn’t relent, not even when you gag around him.

           “Fucking choke on it, slut,” Spencer grunts. “Don’t act like you don’t want this. You were just begging me to fuck you in an alley not twenty minutes ago, like some pathetic fucking tramp. You wanna act like a tramp, I’m gonna treat you like one.”

           Spencer’s lips curl into a debauched grin when your hands come up and grip the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer and further down your throat.

           “That’s what I fucking thought,” Spencer moans, giving several more harsh thrusts before pulling you off of him completely. Spencer reaches down to wipe at the spit that coats your lips as you look up at him with a shy smile.

           “You okay, pretty girl?” Spencer asks as he caresses the side of your face.

           “Mm,” you hum, nuzzling your face against his palm. “Keep going, please. Don’t hold back.”

           “God, I fucking love you,” Spencer sighs happily. “Get on the bed.”

           By the time Spencer fishes a tie out of his suitcase, you’re sprawled out across the bed, head resting against the pillows with your legs spread wide. Your teeth are nestled against your bottom lip as you watch him stalk towards you, eyes running up and down his naked figure appreciatively.

           Spencer crawls onto the bed until he’s settled in between your legs. You present your wrists to him, just like you’ve done a million times before, and Spencer feels that familiar thrum of excitement rush through his body. He fucking lives for moments like these – moments where all his problems melt away to nothing. Moments where he has no other thought than wrecking you, thoroughly and completely.

           Once your wrists are bound you hold them above you, and Spencer sits back on his heels, eyes raking up and down every inch of you.

           “M’ so fucking lucky to be the only one who gets to see you like this.”

           Spencer pinches your right nipple in between his fingers and you let out a squeak, hips bucking up, desperate for some friction. He kneads your breast in his hand as he lowers his mouth to the other one, tongue laving around you. A light nip from his teeth is all that it takes for you to cry out, eyelids fluttering closed.

           “Spence, please. Need you to touch me now, pl-”

           Spencer’s hand connecting with your cheek stops you from finishing your sentence.

           “Do not tell me what to do,” Spencer seethes, once again gripping your chin to keep you from looking away. “Ungrateful slut. I should just leave you here, fucking dripping and desperate for a release that you won’t get. Maybe then you’d learn to take what’s given to you.”

           “Please, no! I’ll be good, I swear. I’m sorry!”

           Spencer narrows his eyes at you, contemplative.

           “Open.”

           You do as he says, and without another word Spencer inserts two fingers into your mouth, pressing down hard on your tongue.

           “Get them nice and wet, and maybe I’ll think about using them on you.”

           You do as he tells you, and by the time Spencer removes his fingers from your mouth, you’re trembling underneath him from anticipation.

           “D-Did I do good?” you stutter out, batting your lashes at him as you squirm under his gaze.

           “So good, baby. I think you’ve earned my fingers,” Spencer hums. “Need you to be still, okay? You’re not gonna like what happens if you try to move.”

           You nod enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut when his fingers brush across your clit. Spencer spends ample time rubbing deliciously slow circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, relishing in every gasp and whimper that falls from your lips. Lips that he’d very much like to kiss, so he does, and you’re more than happy to reciprocate. Spencer lets out a happy sigh into your mouth.

           You get lost in the kiss, so lost in the way that Spencer licks into your mouth that it catches you completely off guard when he slides two fingers into you.

           “Oh, God,” you moan when Spencer curls his fingers against your walls, fucking them in and out of you, slow and unrelenting.

           “S’that feel good, princess?” Spencer asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Tell me how it feels.”

           Your head falls back against the pillows as you struggle to keep your hips firmly placed on the mattress.

           “Feels amazing, Spence. Always feels so good with you. Never want anyone else, only you.”

           And fuck, if that sentiment doesn’t shoot straight to his heart - amongst other places. Spencer places a tender kiss to your cheek before he’s moving down to your neck and sucking a bruise right under your jaw.

           “Yeah?” Spencer prompts. “Not even that stupid fucking detective? I’m sure he’d love a chance to see you like this.”

           “So, you were jealous,” you chuckle between moans, and Spencer bites down hard where your neck meets your shoulder.

           “F-Fuck, Spencer!”

           “Should I be jealous?” Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers, scissoring them at such an unforgiving pace that you can’t help but roll your hips against them.

           You regret this instantly, because Spencer’s fingers immediately pull out of you, leaving you empty and cold. Spencer tuts, shaking his head disappointedly.

           “Dumb little whore can’t even sit still long enough to cum on my fingers.”

           “Please, let me try again. I’ll do better, I promise!”

           Spencer shakes his head and scoots up until his back is rested against the pillows.

           “C’mere,” he commands. “Lay across my lap. Or can you not follow simple commands?”

           “I-I can,” you whisper as you crawl across him, splaying out so that you rest on your elbows with your ass in the air.

           Spencer grabs a handful of your ass and kneads it in his hands.

           “How many do you think you deserve?”

           You blush and smile shyly at him from over your shoulder.

           “However many you want to give me. I can take it.”

           Spencer returns your smile.

           “Good answer. I think you can handle fifteen. How does that sound?”

           “Sounds perfect. T-Thank you, Spencer,” you mumble, cheeks burning red. Spencer continues to caress the tender skin of your bare ass, admiring the way the skin is completely blank; the perfect canvas.

           You let out a whimper when his hand comes down hard on your ass before kneading the sensitive, reddening skin.

           “T-Thank you,” you gasp out, and Spencer is quick to follow up with another strike against the opposite cheek.

           It goes on like this until it’s time for the fifteenth strike, and by then you’ve devolved into garbled whines, ass bright red and marked up with the imprint of Spencer’s hands. His dick is painfully hard underneath you, and you’re in a similar state – arousal dripping onto Spencer’s thigh, coating it.

           “Last one, baby. Do you think you can handle it?”

          “Y-Yes,” you choke out. “Please, I need it. Hurt me, please.”

           The desperation in your voice does things to him, makes him practically feral with the need to fucking tear you apart, and Spencer is quick to deliver the final blow. You barely even have it in you to cry out anymore – a feeble sob is all that falls from your lips.

          Spencer’s hand ghosts down across your bruised skin until his fingertips trace over where you drip for him.

          “You like it when I punish you, don’t you, dirty girl?” Spencer hums as his fingers glide over your soaked folds. 

          “Y-Yes,” you mewl, shifting so that your cunt grinds back onto his hand. Spencer indulges you - allows you to rock your hips against his palm as he watches on in awe, soaking up every desperate sound that tumbles past your lips. 

          Spencer pulls his hand away after a moment and you keen in protest.

           “Can you sit up for me, sweet girl?” Spencer asks, and you nod, because of course you do – you’d do anything if you thought it’d please him. You struggle to pull yourself up with shaky limbs, and Spencer puts a hand on your lower back to steady you. “Can you straddle my leg? Yeah, just like that.” Spencer pulls you down and places a slow kiss to your lips, one hand coming up to wipe away the tears gliding down your face. After a moment of slow, sweet kisses are shared, Spencer unties your wrists.

           “I want you to ride my thigh – can you do that, princess?”

           You whimper as you lower yourself down onto his leg, eyes fluttering shut as you begin to rock against the hardened muscle of his leg.

           Spencer continues placing kisses on your lips, your face, your neck – worshipping every inch of skin he can reach with his mouth, all while whispering praises against you.

           “So perfect for me. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs as he grips your hips with steady hands, urging you to increase the speed of your hips. “Can’t wait to have that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock. Always so tight, yet you take it so well every time.”

           “S-Spence, m’ close,” you slur, hands clinging desperately to his shoulders.

           “Already? You usually last a bit longer than that, baby.”

           “P-Please, Spencer, I can’t-” you whimper, tears once again pricking at the corners of your eyes at the thought of having to wait a second longer.

           “Shh, baby. It’s okay, you can cum,” Spencer reassures you, and your shoulders visibly untense. “Cum for me, pretty girl.”

           It takes two more rolls of your hips for you to cum on Spencer’s thigh with a cry of his name. Spencer rubs soothing circles into your hips as you ride out your high, murmuring broken thank yous as you come down.

           Finally, you still, and your eyes open, pupils so dilated that your eyes look almost black in the dim light of the hotel room.

          “You okay, princess?”

           You give a weak nod.

           “M’great,” you smile, sounding as fucked out as he’s ever heard you. You lean down and slot your mouth against his, and the kiss is slow and languid – soft and unhurried.

            Spencer is the first to pull away.

           “Need you to get on all fours for me,” he instructs. “Don’t think you need to put any pressure on that pretty little ass of yours right now.”

           You giggle at that, before crawling off of Spencer’s lap. You assume the position, and Spencer places a pillow underneath your hips before trailing a line of kisses down your spine. By the time he reaches your ass, you’re writing against him, wiggling your hips eagerly. Spencer places a kiss to both of your bruised cheeks before pulling away.

           You let out a startled oh! when Spencer licks up your center, parting you with his fingers before fucking in and out of you with his tongue.

           “S-Spence, oh my God, yes!” you cry out, hands fisting in the sheets as he continues to work his mouth against your core.

           “Love your fucking pussy so much,” Spencer sighs against you, lapping at your clit hungrily. “Could fucking lick you out for hours. You taste so perfect, Y/N.”

            Spencer lets out a filthy groan against you, and that’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge, wrecked moans filling the otherwise silent hotel room. This orgasm hits you both quicker and harder than the first, and he can’t help but smile against you as you rock back against his face, desperate to prolong the sensation. Spencer continues to work you through your orgasm, stopping only when you cease to twitch underneath him.

           “Such a good girl for me. Think you can handle one more?”

            You raise up just enough that you can look at him from over your shoulder.

           “Yes, please,” you beg, voice scratchy and raw. “Please, fuck me.”

           “Yes, ma’am,” Spencer chuckles. “Do you think you can lay on your back? I wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum on my cock.”

           You answer by rolling over, wincing slightly when your ass comes in contact with the sheets. You look up at Spencer with wide, doe eyes. You have mascara smeared all down your cheeks and your lips are swollen, and to top it all off, deep, purple love bites are dusted across the entire expanse of your neck and chest. Spencer had set out to mark you as his – so that no one would be able to deny that you belonged to him – and he’d done a spectacular job, if he said so himself.

           “God, you’re so fucking pretty.”

           “Then come fuck me already,” you challenge, looking sated in every possible way – yet still, your eyes hold the same hunger that he’s sure is reflected in his own eyes.

           Spencer leans down and traps your lips in a bruising kiss, and without warning he thrusts in you to the hilt. You cry out into the kiss, startled by the sudden intrusion, but Spencer sets a brutal pace that leaves you no time to recover.

           “You said you wanted me to fuck you,” he growls against your lips. “Now fucking take it.”

           He’s fucking into you so hard that you can’t even manage a reply – you just tighten your legs around his waist and drag your nails across the expanse of his back, no doubt leaving bright red marks in your wake. Spencer can feel his own release fast approaching – honestly, he’s been close ever since the first drag of his tongue against your pussy. And now that he’s finally enveloped into your tight, wet heat, that all too familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach is threatening to consume him.

           Spencer’s hand descends from its place next to your head down to your clit, and your whole body jolts with the first swipe of his thumb. You clench around him as a litany of particularly filthy utterances escapes you, and Spencer’s hips stutter.

           “Fuck, princess,” he groans, head coming to rest on your shoulder as he struggles to regain his rhythm. “You don’t even know what you do to me. You’ve ruined me for anyone else. Never fucking want to lose you. Love you so much.”

           “I love you, I love you, I love you,” you chant into his ear, sounding like some kind of siren, luring him straight to his inevitable ruination. “I’m so close, Spence. Cum with me, please? I want to feel you. Please, baby.”

           “Y-Yeah, fuck,” Spencer chokes out. “Say my name when you cum, princess. Want everyone to know how good I fuck you.”

           And when you cum with a shout of his name, walls pulsating deliciously around his cock, Spencer is quick to join you. He continues to roll his hips against yours as you both ride it out, whispers of almost intelligible affirmations being shared between slow, loving kisses.

           After a moment of post-orgasm bliss, Spencer leaves and returns with a bottle of cocoa butter lotion and a warm, wet rag. You watch on with heavy lidded eyes as he cleans you up, and for a moment, he thinks you’ve fallen asleep. It’s not until he finishes slathering your reddened backside with lotion that you speak again.

           “You shouldn’t be jealous, by the way,” you murmur as he lays down beside you. “You’re it for me, Spencer Reid. I don’t ever want you to doubt that I’m anything less than crazy about you.”

           It’s everything that Spencer’s ever wanted to hear, and just like that, every fear – every insecurity that had plagued him in the past several months – fell away to nothing. Suddenly, he couldn’t remember why he’d ever been worried in the first place.

           “You’re it for me, too,” Spencer whispers as he pulls you until his arms and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

           “We’re going to have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow, you know,” you remark as you nuzzle into Spencer’s side.

           “Don’t care,” he sighs happily. “I’ll shout it from the roof tops if I have to. I want everyone to know you’re my girl.”

           “You’re a sap, Doctor Reid.”

           “Only for you.”

           A moment of blissful silence passes, before the sound of your growling stomach sets you both into a fit of giggles.

           “We never did get dinner, did we?” Spencer muses as he lightly runs his fingernails across your scalp. You hum appreciatively and a pleased shiver rolls through you.

           “Nope. You were a little too preoccupied with marking your territory to even offer to feed me,” you tease as you run your fingertips down the planes of his chest.

           “Well, now that that’s been taken care of - could I interest you in some takeout?”

          “Possibly,” you sigh, flattening your palm on his chest, right over his heart. “Do you think that pizza place Trevor mentioned delivers?”

          “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

          “Is that a no?”

          “... Look up the number.”

-

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[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Soft Breath, Beating Heart (1)

Billy Russo x Reader

Aaaah I had to spilt this into 2 parts aaaaaaa

Also, I made a creative choice with the nickname 'Sunshine' I hope that wasn't too cringe.

Warnings: Innocence kink, no real warnings for this part, just build up and plot.

Summary: You meet Billy by accident, but he’s so nice to you. Maybe he can help you with your problem?

Billy really hates rich kids. He hates having to work with them, he hates the snobby entitlement, he hates that they expect everything to be done their way.

When one of his employees call him at 11pm at night, he knows nothing good is going to come of this.

He's right. One of his clients is throwing an impromptu house party.

He knows he's being a little overdramatic by calling them kids, his client has got to be around twenty-five, but that's just what they act like, spoiled, self-involved, dicks.

Of course, with an unexpected amount of people comes and unexpected need for more security. On such a short notice, he struggles to get anyone out of their homes.

It's unacceptable, Billy thinks as he makes his way up to his client's door. He can hear the booming of music from outside the apartment. He's lucky that this kid owns the entire floor of this place, no need to worry about complaints from irate neighbours.

He tries to rein in his frustration when he knocks on the door, he waits a moment before knocking again.

This kid better answer the fucking door-

He hears the doorknob turn, and the door parts to reveal... you.

Oh.

He's never seen you before. Billy thinks he'd remember if he'd seen you around before.

"Hello?" You say meekly.

"Hey, I'm Billy, Billy Russo, I'm Mr. Carson's bodyguard, can you let me in?"

He watches the way your eyes skim down his figure and back up.

"I'll get Jamie for you." You say gently before closing the door in his face.

He smirks, smart girl, not just letting any random guy into the place. He definitely wishes he'd seen more of you.

He doesn't wait long before Jamie opens the door. The man reeks distinctly of cigarettes, his eyes are bloodshot red, telling Billy all he needs to know about the man’s state of mind.

"Heyyyyyyy, Mister Russo. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Carson," he greets coolly, "You're supposed to warn me if you have guests over."

Jamie opens the door wider to let Billy in.

"I know! But this just happened so fast! And look- you're here anyway, so do your job if you have to."

Billy takes a deep breath and fights the urge to wring the boy's head until it pops.

"I'm going to charge you extra for this Mr. Carson." He informs.

Jamie shoots him a wink, "You know I'm good for it Russo. Make yourself at home." Is the last thing he says before one of his girlfriends call him away.

Billy rolls his eyes and makes a quick headcount of the number of people present, he makes an assessment of any possible threats, but none rear their heads. He just has to keep an eye on Jamie and makes sure no-one kills him. Jamie might drive himself into an early grave though, with the amount of alcohol Billy has seen him drink on occasion. It looks like tonight will just be more of the same.

His eyes fall on you, and he can tell how uncomfortable you are in this crowd instantly. He briefly wonders what an obviously shy girl like you is doing in a den like this. He takes in the pale yellow dress you're wearing, with its flowing sleeves and lace up front. You look so beautiful, so innocent, your smile is like sunshine, and something sinister in Billy rears its head. He watches the shy way you interact with what he assumes are your friends, watches how you're more comfortable laughing along than actually saying anything. He does catch you looking at Jamie's friend every now and again. What was the boy's name again? Ravi? Ryan? Billy couldn't remember. He watches the boy slip away, and then he watches as you excuse yourself quietly, to follow him.

Damn.

His eyebrows draw together trying to decipher the exact reason he was disappointed.

He lets himself get distracted by the room once again, ensuring that Jamie is safe... from other people. He doesn't realise how much time has passed when he sees you walk past him with tears threatening to spill from your eyes, your arms wrapped tight around yourself. His eyes are drawn to you, and he watches as you collect your bag quietly and walk out the door without a word. Noone notices your departure, except for Jamie who watches with raised eyebrows.

Reese, whose name Billy had learned in the moments he was gone, reenters the room a minute later. He drops himself down next to Jamie and whispers something into the boy's ear with a laugh.

Although Jamie laughs along in the moment, Billy observes the look of worry that flits over his face.

Suddenly Jamie is making eye contact with Billy, and walks over.

What now? Billy thinks.

"Hey Mr. Russo, I know this is an off coloured request, but can you make sure my friend- the one that just left- gets home safely?"

Billy studies the boy for a second, wondering why he doesn't just go after her himself.

"Very well, I'll have one of my men-"

"-No. I'd rather it was you. I know you. I trust you." Jamie emphasizes.

"I don't think it's safe for me to leave-"

"I'll be fine Mr. Russo. Please, just... she lives far, and I don't want her taking the subway home in that state..."

Billy grits his teeth at the interruptions. He thinks about it for a moment before agreeing.

"What's her name?" He asks.

Jamie smiles and gives the older man a gentle punch to the shoulder, giving him the information he needs. Billy doesn't mask his irritation, but Jamie doesn't care.

"You're the best, Russo." He says, walking away.

Fucking rich kids.

Finding you wasn't hard, given that you did have a significant headstart on him.

He found you sitting on a street bench on the opposite side of the road, wiping at stray tears. He barely knew you, but he still vividly imagined grabbing Reese by the collar of his fancy shirt and punching him square in the face. You have a cigarette burning in the space between your fingers, the first indication that you're not as pure as he initially thought.

When you see him approaching, you drop the cigarette onto the ground, grinding into it with your foot to extinguish the stub.

"Those things will kill you." He says in greeting.

You sigh.

"Well something has to." You say wryly.

He huffs a small laugh and moves closer to you.

"Come on, I'll take you home."

A slow shake of your head.

"You don't have to, I'll be fine on my own."

"Please, Miss Y/L/N, I can't leave you here like this."

"I didn't tell you my name." You say softly, "Jamie sent you didn't he?"

You don't have to wait for Billy's nod of confirmation before you huff.

"Idiot sends someone else to do his dirty work."

Billy smiles at that. He watches the way you shiver with the cold.

"Here," he says, pulling off his coat to drape it over your shoulders. You barely get your mouth open to protest before you feel the warmth of his coat envelop you. Your heart picks up at his kindness and the subtle smell of his cologne. You briefly consider pulling the collar of the coat into your nose to catch more of his scent.

You look up at him, feeling your face heat at how beautiful he looks, a brief hope of the prospective of spending time with him blooms within you. That hope is quickly stomped on when you remember Reese's earlier words.

'No one wants a girl as inexperienced as you.'

You sigh and bury your face in your hands. Billy probably has loads of beautiful women- age appropriate women- lining up to please him. He'd want nothing to do with you.

"I don't want to go home yet." You say to him.

"Okay," he relents, moving to sit next to you on the bench, arm extended over the back comfortably, "We can sit here and mope, or we can go get somethin' to eat? Are you hungry?" 

You pause for a moment to make an assessment of your stomach.

"Yeah, I guess, I am a little hungry."

Billy nods, "Good, why don't we get something to eat then, Sunshine."

You turn to him in confusion,

"Sunshine?" You ask.

Shit, Billy thinks, he only meant to call you that in his head.

"Yeah, cause your dress is yellow like the sun." Nice save.

You smile at him, "A little unconventional, but I like it." You say, leaning toward him. You get to your feet, pulling his coat snugly around you, and extending your hand.

"I believe I was promised food?"

He laughs, and takes your smaller hand into his, raising to his full height. You swallow as you raise your eyes to look up at him.

What a man

You let go of his warm hands, aching to touch them again. He turns and starts leading you to his car.

You gasp when you see it.

"This is yours?" You ask incredulously.

"It sure is, Sunshine." He says, opening the passenger side door for you. You smile and quietly thank him, and slip into his car.

You heart beats faster as his scent engulfs you. You press your thighs together to grasp at some relief for the ache that fills you. The ache gets even worse as you watch him get into the driver's side, his body filling the space confidently. You look at him from the corner of your eyes as he starts up the car and puts on his seat belt. When he instructs you to do the same, you follow obediently.

When he puts his large hand on the centre console, you shift slightly in your seat. You think about what his warm paw would feel like, pressed into the skin of your thigh.

It's insane that he can elicit such a visceral reaction from you after only knowing for a couple of hours. If you had an opportunity, you would taste the bow of his lips without hesitation.

It's a shame that you'd never get that chance. A shame that no one really wants you that way.

Your thoughts send you into a spiral, and you press your face into your hands, trying to get a grip.

"You alright?" He asks gently, noticing the torment going through you.

"Yes..." you sigh, "No."

"Wanna talk about it?"

You sigh again.

"I guess you'll find out anyways, no doubt Reese has already told the lot of them. They're probably making jokes about me right now."

You spare a glance at him, watching the way he's focused on he road, but takes a moment to look at you.

"Quick background story.... I've never had any.... good sexual encounters in my life. The first time I gave a boy head, I used too much teeth and they called me 'Chompy' for a year." You shut your eyes in embarrassment, just trying to throw the story out there, "I mean, he could have just told me what I was doing wrong and we could have probably had a better time, but guys are dicks I guess....sorry." You apologise, noticing the angry breath he lets out and misreading it.

"The guy I lost my virginity to, didn't really have much of me in mind, and I'll admit, it may have been a bit of my fault too, I guess I should have put my standards a little bit higher, but I just wanted it overwith you know?"

"Which lead me to realise that I've never really had an orgasm before, and I was thinking, 'Hey, I heard Reese is really good in bed, maybe I can ask him to... you know... help me.'"

At this point you're talking more to yourself than Billy.

"But when I ask, he laughs in my face, tells me that he doesn't deal with inexperienced girls. Tells me that I'll always be chompy to him and nothing more."

You pause for a long moment, letting the words sink in, the tears come back, threatening to spill once more.

"Tells me that no guy's gonna want a girl as useless as me."

You breathe deeply, fighting the sorrow that comes up.

"And I think he might be right." You finally say, little sobs slipping from your mouth.

You don't even notice that Billy has pulled into the parking lot of a small diner. You do notice when he wraps his arms around you and pull you into his chest. His proximity feels so good, his breathing, his heartbeat, his warmth. You could get lost in him so easily. Your pitiful cries subside as you lean into Billy's chest. He holds you for long minutes until you're wiping at your eyes and giving him a watery smile in thanks.

"It's okay," you murmur, "It's like that sometimes I guess."

He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and offers it to you. You accept it gratefully and dab at your watery eyes.

Billy is angry enough to kill. He hates that some dumb boys made his beautiful sun feel this way about herself. He couldn't understand what was so repulsive about inexperience. The very knowledge that she had never experienced pleasure properly made him inappropriately tight in the pants. He vividly imagines the ways he could teach her, about herself, about her body, about his body. He thinks about the beautiful ways he could corrupt her, before getting a hold of himself.

He really should not be thinking about her like this, he's only just met her.

The diner is very warm, and cozy. You shed his coat and your jacket and place it into the seat next to you. Billy had also rid of his jacket, and removed his tie in the car, he looks a bit more comfortable now, with the top three buttons of his grey shirt undone. He looks like a man you'd want to make happy.

You order quickly and flow back into easier conversation. You ask him about his time working at Anvil, and he gives you some of his intense and funny job stories.

"So I'm hearing this guy, movin' through the vents, and I'm just following the sounds because I wanna meet the idiot that watched too many action movies and thinks that the vents are a good way to get around, and I have to stop myself from laughing, which was honestly the hardest thing I did that day."

He thanks the waitress when she brings out the food and so do you.

You're laughing too, with the retelling of his story.

"And when the guy finally gets down from the vent, it's this huge, I mean absolutely massive, Russian guy."

Your eyes widen.

"I probably should have called for backup or something, but I was too busy following the sound, expecting a skinny kid, not seven feet of muscle."

He takes a sip of his drink. Doesn't continue.

"Well?" You murmur excitedly, "What happened?"

He smiles and swallows his drink, licking at his lips.

"Well I lived didn't I?"

You giggle at his blasé tone.

He likes your laugh, the way you tilt your head a little, and scrunch your eyebrows, the way your shoulders shake with the force of the laughter. You're so pretty, and his growing affection for you hits him hard like a punch to the gut. He wants you. Badly.

He can't have you.

And his chest burns with the thought.

"Wanna split an ice cream sundae?" You ask shyly.

The only sweet thing I want on my tongue right now is you, sunshine.

Out loud, he simply smiles and says yes.

The waitress only brings out one spoon.

"Oh, um, should I ask for another?"

"We can share, can't we sunshine?" He says, taking a spoonful of ice cream with whipped cream and extending it to you.

You lean forward and take the spoon into your mouth, eyes locked on his, looking at his remarkable face. You feel the area warm up significantly when you moan around the spoon, appreciating the delicious cream.

You watch as he uses the same spoon to get himself some ice cream. He also hums in appreciation for the dessert.

Your panties are uncomfortably damp, watching the way he pulls his hand back when you reach for the spoon in his hands.

"Let me." He says, feeding you some more ice cream.

You get a little bit on the corner of your mouth and before you can react, his thumb is there, swiping at your mouth gently.

You bite down on your lip as you watch him press his thumb into his mouth, licking at the spilled cream before releasing his finger with a pop.

An idea rears its head. A dangerous, quite possibly embarrassing idea. He's taking you home now, and you're struggling to form the words you need to ask him something so dangerous.

"Billy?"

"Hmm?"

"You know how to please women... right?"

He feels his heart stutter in his chest.

"Yeah, I guess you can put it that way."

"Will you teach me?"

He shifts in his seat, hoping that the dark of the night will hide his straining erection from your eyes.

"You want me to teach you how to please women?" He says, half jokingly.

"Uh, no... I.." you sigh, eyes squeezed shut for an added boost of confidence.

"Want you to teach me how to please myself."

Fuck

"I'm not sure that's a good idea?"

"Why not? Are you secretly bad at it?"

He lets out a lengthy laugh.

"First of all, how dare you." His laughter continues, "I am very well versed in making women scream thank you very much."

"Then what's the problem, Billy?"

The use of his name makes him swallow.

"Am I.... not... attractive?" You say.

That's probably it.

"Because that's okay I guess, can't- can't please everyone. I'd totally understand if that was the reason. It's totally normal to-"

"Stop talking."

You look over at him, he looks angry, and you shrink in your seat, worried that you've said something to upset him.

"I'm sorry, I never should have- just forget I ever-"

"I said be quiet."

Your mouth closes shut. You both sit in tense silence for a while.

Billy's head was spinning. How dare she think she wasn't attractive? As if she wasn't responsible for the raging erection he was sporting at that very moment. As if her gentle smile and pretty dress wasn't enough, her obvious innocence was enough to make him desperate for just a taste of her. And she thought she wasn't attractive? He'd kill every man who ever made her feel that way.

"I'll do it."

You look up at him with wide eyes.

"Really?"

"Yes, sunshine, really."

You can't resist leaning across the centre console to place a kiss on his cheek.

"You're the best, Billy."

He was probably going to end up in hell for corrupting someone so pure, but for her, he'd gladly burn.