#let's visit grandma and watch her eat

[inkskinned]

she's singing in another room and my dog is asleep at my feet. my grandma asked me why i haven't found a man yet and i laughed. oh, you know. i like my house clean.

my girlfriend is also my man is also "my partner" if i'm in a professional setting. yesterday we went to a ren faire and a man mimed at me - you're together? and at my delighted nod, his baffled, you're gay? made me laugh. a woman with rainbow hair said i love the two of you together. you're both so beautiful it's absurd.

my dad introduced my partner as my "..... friend. or whatever" the other day. he knows we're dating. in the same way, i was never able to get my sister's husband to stop saying that's gay like it's 2008. he still uses the word fa***t, and my sister's defense of him has always been well, he's just kidding.

my lover and i dance to old music in a tiny kitchen. we judge new music together and take food critique very seriously. we watch love is blind before we fall asleep and agree that if they had a queer season, it would be bloody but also make for excellent tv. of fucking course queer people would know someone for only 2 weeks and agree to get married. what are you saying.

at a bar with friends, a man puts his hand on my wrist. got a boyfriend? and yes, i do have a boyfriend, she's amazing. i am texting her while i wander around a gas station named after geese. i am visiting a swing state for a wedding. in the candy aisle i overhear: she's actually like a lesbian it's disgusting. two teenage girls with packaged sandwiches in their hands, giggling. no literally, like. i'm not, like. okay with her being there while we're all, like, naked and changing.

my girlfriend and i tailgate, drink gin and cider out of cups. from the frat group beside us, a man corrects himself with one of his friends: bro, i mean, nonbinary entity, and it makes everyone around him laugh, myself included. he razzes his friend the same way i would have killed for at 19 years old - like nothing happened, he continues: you apply sunscreen like an alien. he does a little sassy (and fairly accurate) dance interpretation of the motion. his friend is laughing so hard they're crying.

i am lucky, i live in a safe neighborhood in a safe state. my masc passenger princess comes up from DC. i drive her for an hour to where all the leaves are a violent arrangement of color. we walk along the trails, letting autumn into our blood. in this part of the state, there's a lot of pickup trucks and trump signs. when we chastely kiss before getting into the car, i accidentally make eye contact with a woman holding her child's wrist. she looks disgusted. she looks fucking pissed.

two hours later my girl and i are eating dinner on a patio, soaking in the last warmth of new england sun before the chill of winter sets in. we are giggling and trying to talk through plastic vampire teeth. at another table, i see a young woman sit up straighter. i watch her watch us. she blushes and takes her partner's hand from across the table. shy, like the taste of evening has just become something deeper.

it's worth it for this moment, i think. my lover is still humming the same song she's been singing for four days straight and i don't want to kill her for it. her guitar is beside my bed. her toothbrush is in my bathroom. in a few moments i will make us lunch. we are lucky enough to have found each other. it is lucky enough to be in love.

[hunnieknight]

AU Sketch Ideas II

Series I, Series III Series IV

Sfw, gn!reader, mention of Crepus's death

Court (Ragbros + Jean)

The reader Kaeya's and Diluc's youngest sibling, Jean wants to propose but the reader misunderstands thinking Jean likes Diluc

Jean is a traditional woman, she believes she has to meet your guardians who else if not your brothers.

She asked for your brothers for a blessing, which caught them both off-guard. Of course, they give blessing.

The reader stays with Diluc in the Dawn Winery before and after Crepus's death. So Jean obviously often visits Dawn Winery just to see you.

But you are so oblivious you thought with Jean often dining with you and Diluc and sometimes Kaeya, she has a crush on your big brother.

Whenever she visits, you often hide away in your room or walk around the Dawn Winery, thinking you help her get close to your brother. On the other hand, Jean always slumped whenever you left.

It does infuriate the three of them, but who can be mad? Diluc is so protective he often shielded you from all this stuff. Kaeya always jabs Diluc for this. Jean always sees this naive side of you as a cute quirk.

It doesn't help that Kaeya often teasingly calls Jean "sister-in-law" in front of you. Diluc also called Jean that during dinner, when you are also at the table. It should be obvious but boy it makes you more sure she has a thing for your brothers.

Every time Jean greets you or gives you gift, you often passed it to your brothers, whilst Kaeya just smiling in defeat and Diluc just looking at you funny.

Barbara just prays to Venti Barbatos that her sister will have a smooth process in making you her spouse.

Also, Barbara will be the godmother for you both's future kids.

Well, it might take years for that to be a reality.

Until it happens, your brothers and this knight will keep trying to make you realize how bad Jean wants you to take her surname.

Adelinde can't wait to be a "grandma"

Little Dragon (Zhongli + Xiao)

There was a request i got before about Dad!Zhongli, i might do that in the future

Dad Zhongli and Big Bro Xiao!

PROTECTIVE AS FUCK.

oohhhhh every kid in the daycare somehow has a puppy crush on you.

Especially a certain ginger- It seems like Zhongli does not like you getting close to him.

Zhongli wants you to learn about his culture, so he often teaches you how to eat with chopsticks and with a chopstick helper. Obviously, you hate it, you just want to use your hand and eat your food. It doesn't help that Xiao really wants you to learn how to use chopsticks too.

Xiao adores you dearly and Zhongli loves you so much.

Despite spoiling you quite a lot, they also let you learn something by yourself but also watch closely for your safety. Like climbing stairs, peeling oranges, putting on socks, etc.

Dragon!Zhongli and Bird Xiao plushies!

Your outfit will consist of brown/yellow or earthy colours. Sometimes also purple and white so you and Xiao can have matching outfit.

[coriphallus]

DA: The Veilguard Spoiler review pt1 - Blood Magic

alright let's do this. let's write an in-depth review of veilguard. this will be long and this will be negative and i might eventually say some good things but everything i say will be undermined with a 'BUT'.

its now been around a week since i finished the game and had some time to parse my thoughts and this is why i didnt enjoy the game; NOT why you shouldnt.

so dragon age has a very special place in my heart and i am %100 the kind that has DAO as their favourite game. i have played these games religiously, and let me prefix this by saying i was not hyped for this game, i wont lie and say i wanted bw to succeed or i hoped the game would be good etc etc. if i liked the game, it would be a surprise. alas.

so theres multiple reasons for that, but the canary in the mine for me had been the announcement on blood magic, and yeah i was not shocked after DAI but i was still disappointed. so lets start with blood magic:

Blood Magic

DA lore has changed alot over time, and just like the media it took inspiration from (ASOIAF) i was under the impression that it used unreliable narrators deliberately, just as theyve poked fun at the concept with bethanys tits. it made sense then that the people telling these stories didnt know much about blood magic therefore they couldnt explain it fully but we've known some things for certain, from the text. blood magic uses blood as its source of power instead of lyrium (blood=life force), what constitutes as blood magic is open to interpretation (i.e phylacteries), multiple groups outside of the 'civilised society' such as chasind are not so staunchly against it, knowledge on it can be passed down from a mentor and that mentor usually happens to be a spirit. it can be used to enact control over people in a literal sense and thats considered by the narrative of all DA games to be more reprehensible than burning someone alive.

now i will derail this but i swear im going somewhere with it. i grew up in a country with majority white people, some blond, most with exposed hair who lived in big cities with cobblestone roads and snowy winters and starbuckses, and who would consider themselves westerners. some religious practices i know less about than most christians know about their holidays.

where my grandma lived was at the bottom of a high slope, and once a year when we went to visit her id see a thick trail of blood trickle down from the waterway to pool on her street, and at that dinner the family (and neighbours, sometimes) would bring a myriad of dishes and we'd feast. i would see butchers shops clean their curbs with buckets of water, mopping red tinted liquid down a drain. when i grew older and we were visiting my mothers village i watched the men subdue and kill a cow that we were going to eat that night. i watched them skin it and separate the meat from its bones, explaining what parts of an animal is used for which dishes because it was their craft and a young girl showed interest. as people we always live with the knowledge that our lives depend on death, whether it be a plant or an animal. existence is not moral and clean, and death is messy. getting blood stains out of a fabric once a month is the lived reality of more than half the human population.

i was not raised religious, nobody in my close family were, i didn't feel any sort of way when those men started to pray around the cow but i knew why they did it, even if it was performative for some, for the rest they had to show respect. the cow was meant to represent somebody you cared about, offering it in their stead symbolically. it needed to be respected, it needed to be butchered without pain. save from one serving of meat, as was tradition, were donated to the food banks.

now im sure some of you are thinking 'no matter how you slice it, its still a brutal act. made more brutal by the audience deriving some form of moral superiority' and yes, i used to think that too, because what is a religious practice for them is a show to me. but it is the norm where i grew up, and in the end a cow is dead regardless because we need to eat. and some people who needed to eat more than us got to eat too.

somewhere in germany news break out that some immigrants were practicing unethical and unsanitary butcherings, you see the footage of men in kufi and puffy pants and women covered completely in black sheets get ushered out by police. they shout some things in a foreign language, speaking the name of their foreign god. they show a censored room covered in blood and gore.

so i have to ask now, when you play veilguard and see venatori torturing and exploding a halla into a puff of red smoke which image does it bring to mind, what do you think of when you hear 'ritual sacrifice'? you may not have noticed this parallel but your brain sure did, as it has been noticing for your entire life and counting, the same reason you cringe at the barbarity of people consuming raw flesh, painting their foreheads with blood, killing animals you would pet. its alien, its gross, its wrong.

i cant play this game and take it seriously with its mask yanked off, gloating about its lack of nuance every step of the way. when you hit people red stuff comes out, red stuff bad. killing bad. murder bad. that it extends more sympathy to a fantasy deer than it ever allows for living breathing people of its universe, faceless and primitive.

in other DA games there were people over there somewhere who enslaved others, built their entire civilization on the ruins of gods they cannot comprehend, practiced bloody sacrifices and rituals that doomed the world for their own power, and even in their homeland they are nothing but canon fodder to be murdered and gawked at. their traditions, religion, entire culture is less than a set dressing, because whatever grosses you out are the bad apples, because the good ones cant be anything else and still derive sympathy from the audience.

and its true, you need to be an exceptional writer to make that work, especially if you dont have any real life experience to pull from. you need to stain your hands a little, and be prepared to be called dirty.

but i see it, i see those news reports everywhere i look in the game, i see the streets being cleaned and scrubbed so the tourists wouldnt call them backwards people, unclean, less than.

ive never played a game so repulsed by and is uninterested in its own universe than DAV, in every line of dialogue i can feel it trembling in fear. my companions tell me i dont need to watch a deer getting butchered, i can look away and proceed to electrocute hundreds of masked men some of whom are talking about comically evil things like patricide.

this has always been a point of contention in the medium of video games as the most prominent way to engage with the world has been through violence, and for me the DA franchise has always managed to tackle this by allowing its main character to be messy. yes, hawke cleaves thru countless faceless raiders but theyre also an illegal immigrant trying to get by with nothing to offer to the world than their violence. warden is deliberately recruited for that same violence, the only purpose of their existence is to fight as theyre made to shed everything else from their old life. and still, still you play these characters as they are allowed to grow, heal, carve out a little space for themselves where they can laugh and joke with their peers. it is juxtaposed to that darkness in their lives that makes those moments precious.

'what is good?' the games asked, and they answered 'doesn't matter, the world can be a better place with them in it'

veilguard asks 'what is good?' and answers 'you are.'

it doesnt matter whether blood magic is bad lore-wise (and that discussion is irrelevant to this decision made by the devs), because it needs to be narratively. like tabloid news the entire premise of the story is built on it. it needs to be inaccessible to and shunned by your party and rook because they need to be 'good' and in contrast, your enemies need to be 'bad'

and like dominoes it retroactively reframes the moral stance of every game in the franchise.

so, yes, i just laughed when i saw that announcement. i didnt know what else to do. but hang on to your knickers because it gets so much worse...

[veronicaphoenix]

zutto — chapter thirteen | wc: 6k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

Chapter summary: Noah and Lia spend the day in Tokyo and visit a certain exhibition that leads to steamy things once they're back in their room.

Reading time: 25mins. aprox.

Tags and trigger warnings:  talks/depictions of rope play and mentions of war and torture (related to historical events), wet dreams, explicit sexual content including teasing, dirty talk, Lia wearing a choker, Lia on her knees, oral sex (Noah receiving), p in v (protected and unprotected), praise kink, “good girl”, Noah restraining Lia’s wrists, slight dom/sub dynamics if you squint, fluff. Let me know if I missed sth. 

Say thank you @bluestdai because the wet dream scene was inspired by her fanart of Lia and Noah. 💞

I wanted to post this before I leave on a roadtrip, so I didn't have much time to really revise it. Sorry for any typos or mistakes you might find.

General trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

“Will you stop looking at me like that?” Lia demanded, her cheeks tinged with a rosy hue as she struggled to speak around a mouthful of her fourth tamagoyaki of that morning. Her hand hovered in front of her mouth.

Noah’s grin widened.  “No.”

A crease formed between Lia’s brows as she swallowed. She licked her lips before retorting, “It’s making me uncomfortable.”

“Is it?” Noah asked, his tone playful as he arched an eyebrow. “I love watching you eat. You look adorable. I can’t help it.”

Her face grew even warmer. 

“It makes me self-conscious,” she mumbled, glancing at the empty plate in front of her. “That was my fourth tamagoyaki...” 

Noah, who had finished his breakfast minutes earlier, continued to watch her, his elbows resting on the countertop of the kitchen isle. Grandma, ever busy, had flitted off to another part of the house barely five minutes ago. 

“Want another one?” Noah asked.

Lia’s eyes widened in alarm. Before she could reply, he raised both hands in a gesture of surrender. 

“I’m not teasing! I’m serious! I love the way you enjoy food. That’s all.”

Lia hesitated, her eyes darting to the tray where the remaining tamagoyakis were arranged in two perfect rows. Temptation gnawed at her, but her stomach was already satisfyingly full.

“I’m good,” she said, brushing her fingers on a napkin. She made a mental note to ask Grandma for the recipe before returning to the States. No Japanese restaurant back home could replicate the unique taste of Grandma’s cooking, and she was sure neither could she—nor Noah, for that matter. But she was willing to try. 

Just then, Hana bustled back into the kitchen, her white hair neatly gathered into a bun. She carried a pile of freshly washed kitchen rags that she quickly stored in a drawer. 

“Why don’t you take the rest with you?” she suggested, gestuing toward the food tray and already pulling a plastic container from the cupboard. “You’re spending the day out, right?” she asked, glancing between them.

“Yep,” Noah confirmed.

“Better to have something on hand,” Grandma insisted. “Just in case.”

“We’re planning to eat out,” Lia pointed out, standing from the stool.

“For later,” Grandma said with a knowing smile. Without waiting for further protests, she began packing the tamagoyaki along with a couple of small juice bottles.

Lia shrugged, catching Noah’s amused expression. Despite herself, she couldn’t hold back a grin.

As Grandma finished packing their food, Noah and Lia headed upstairs to change out of their pajamas. Today, they were planning to explore Tokyo on their own after spending most of their stay so far indulging in Grandma’s company and taking her to places. 

They made the bed together and Lia opened the balcony doors to let some fresh air in. While Noah was checking his hair in the bathroom, Lia stepped out and leaned against the railing of the bedroom balcony, dressed in black leggings, a white shirt, and a soft denim jacket that would later pair with her boots. She took a few deep breaths and admired the beauty of the scenery before her before plucking her phone out of a pocket and moving her fingers deftly over the display, the cold morning air tinging her nose pink as her eyes scanned the information. 

“Lia, you ready?” Noah’s voice called from behind.

“Yeah.” Lia turned to face him, hesitating for a moment before adding, “Noah?”

“Hm?”

“I found this exhibition...” She waved her phone slightly, her expression both eager and uncertain. “I thought we could go.”

“What kind of exhibition?” Noah asked, crossing the room to get a closer look at her phone screen.

“It’s a... Shibari exhibition,” Lia explained with a casual tone. But her gaze was watchful, eyeing Noah and unsure of what his reply would be. 

Noah’s eyebrows lifted.

Before he could say anything, she quickly added, “I’d like to see it.”

For a moment, Noah simply studied her. Then, with a shrug and an easy smile, he spread his arms. “If you want to go, I’m in. Where is it?”

“Not far from Tokyo’s center,” Lia added, relief evident in her voice.

“Then let’s do it,” Noah said. He extended his hand toward her. “Shall we?”

No matter how full they still felt after the hearty breakfast at Grandma’s, the bustling energy of Tokyo’s center and the amount of cafés was enough to draw them in for another warm drink—and Lia’s fifth tamagoyaki of the day—. After stepping out of the cab and strolling through narrow streets lined with shops and neon signs, they stopped at a cozy café. They talked idly as the indulged in steaming sencha tea and they watched the city’s rhythm outside the window. Lia connected her phone to the café’s free Wi-Fi and googled their way to the exhibition venue. The map showed it was only a fifteen-minute walk, so they set off and managed to make it there without stopping in too many stores. 

The venue was tucked away on a quieter street north of the city center, its sleek modern exterior standing out against the older buildings nearby. The gallery’s enormous windows offered glimpses of the artwork inside, making Lia and Noah pause by the first window, leaning close to peer in.

The gallery was expansive. The walls they could see were adorned by vintage, A4-sized photographs. Beneath each image, a foam block appeared to hold neat inscriptions in Japanese and English, perhaps with details about the photos. Deeper inside the venue, Noah and Lia caught flashes of different lights, red ropes and abstract installations.

Lia turned to Noah, biting her lip briefly but eyes sparking. She grabbed his hand and tugged.

“Let’s go.”

Noah smirked, charmed by her enthusiasm, and let her take the lead.

At the entrance, they were surprised to learn there was no fee. The receptionist, a woman in her forties with kind eyes and a nice smile, welcomed them. She handed each of them a brochure and explained the exhibition’s layout: the first section showcased historical photographs from the Edo period. The following ones contained suspended rope installations, live demonstrations, and at the end they would find a workshop space for learning basic knotting techniques, and even a literary and philosophical corner for quiet reflection. Souvenirs, books, and rope could be purchased at the store located at the very end of the exhibition. 

“Feel free to explore at your own pace,” the woman added. “There’s a live demonstration that will start in about thirty minutes, near the back.”

Lia clutched her brochure, her eyes already scanning the gallery, while Noah gave the receptionist a polite nod before following Lia inside.

Initially, the vastness of the gallery and the weight of the artwork’s themes made Lia hesitate. She lingered near the first exhibit, a collection of photographs depicting the use of rope in Edo-period hojojutsu, a martial art once used for restraining prisoners. The photographs were stark and evocative, showing the artistry that elevated the utilitarian knots into something symbolic.

Lia felt Noah stiffen slightly beside her, adjusting his black cap, his posture reserved. She glanced up to see his brows furrowed in concentration, perhaps grappling with the unfamiliar context and maybe wondering the repercussions of someone spotting him there. Wanting to reassure him, she reached for his hand, intertwining her fingers with his.

Their eyes roamed over the photographs, analyzing the intricate interplay of shadow and light that emphasized the delicacy of the knots. One picture captured a prisoner kneeling with a calm expression, their arms bound behind them in an arrangement so precise it resembled a lattice of branches. Another photograph showed a ceremonial display of knots, the prisoner’s posture one of poised dignity despite their restrained state. Each knot seemed to convey a story of its own, involving control, power, but also elegance and care. It was strange and yet, fascinating.

“Look at this one,” Lia murmured, pointing to an image of a woman dressed in a kimono, her hands tied with a flourish that mirrored the folds of her garment. “It’s beautiful.”

Noah nodded, his brow still furrowed. “It is,” he admitted, his voice low, almost reluctant. “But looks complicated.”

They moved into the next section, where the gallery shifted from history to abstract art. Ropes hung suspended from the ceiling, looping and twisting in gravity-defying arcs. Some installations were simple, resembling waves or vines, while others were chaotic tangles that seemed to pulse with energy.

Lia stopped in front of one particularly piece—a massive web of crimson rope that seemed to expand and contract with the airflow in the room. At its center was a suspended a gold ornament, bound so intricately that it seemed to hover like a captured treasure.

“How the hell did they do this,” Noah muttered to himself, his curiosity breaking through his earlier reserve. He stepped closer, crouching slightly to observe the knots securing the installation to the floor and ceiling. “It’s flawless. If you pull at one knot, the whole thing would collapse.”

“Kind of like trust,” Lia said thoughtfully.

He glanced up at her, caught off guard by her comment.

“Yeah,” he said after a pause. “Like trust.”

They lingered for a few moments before following the signs toward the live demonstration. The corridor opened into a large space with seating arranged in a semicircle around a low platform. A few people were already gathered, chatting quietly or flipping through their brochures.

On the platform, a man and a woman prepared for the demonstration. The woman was standing in the center, barefoot and wearing a beige tight bodysuit. The man was dressed in simple black clothes. He was arranging coils of rope on a low table beside him.

Noah and Lia found a spot where to stand on the side, close enough to see the details but not so close as to feel conspicuous. Lia noticed Noah’s posture relax slightly as he leaned forward, his cap shielding his face from view momentarily as his arm rubbed at Lia’s shoulder.

Moments later, the room quieted and the demonstrator stepped forward, bowing slightly before addressing the audience. 

“Thank you for joining us today. What you are about to see is a traditional art form that blends discipline and creativity. It requires trust, communication, and respect between the participants.”

A mix of curiosity and reverence settled over the room.

As the demonstration began, the audience watched. The demonstrator moved with a calm, rhythmic precision, guiding the rope around his partner’s arms and torso in fluid motions. Each knot was a statement, each loop a deliberate choice.

The demonstrator began with a length of smooth, red rope, holding it as though it were a living thing. He stepped behind his partner and guided her hands together at the small of her back. With a single motion, he looped the rope around her wrists, his fingers dancing as he secured the first knot. 

The room had grown so quiet that the soft rustle of the rope against the woman’s skin was audible, every sound amplified in the stillness. The demonstrator wrapped the rope twice more, forming clean, parallel lines that looked as though they had been measured with a ruler. He paused briefly to check her posture, a silent exchange passing between them before he resumed his work, the ends of the rope weaving into a decorative knot that held the arrangement in place.

Lia felt her breath catch as she watched. The movements were hypnotic. She could feel Noah’s steady breathing behind her, as well as the way his chest rose and fell a little more deeply than before. 

As the man finished securing the final knot, the woman flexed her fingers, the subtle movement testing the hold. The demonstrator stepped back, bowing slightly to acknowledge the completion of the first step. The woman returned the bow, her restrained hands adding an unexpected grace to the gesture.

The audience remained silent. The room felt charged, as though everyone was holding their breath in unison.

Lia shifted slightly, and that was when she noticed how close Noah had leaned in. She could feel the faint warmth of his breath near her ear, each exhale brushing softly against her skin. His heartbeat was steady but insistent, a subtle rhythm she could sense through the proximity of his body.

For a moment, the gallery and the audience faded away. All she could focus on was the quiet intensity of the scene before them, mirrored by Noah’s quiet intensity beside her. The blend of concentration and restraint in his posture made her wonder what he was thinking—if he was thinking the same things she was. 

Lia felt her own pulse quicken, her fingers tightening on the edges of her brochure. She didn’t say a word, afraid that even the softest whisper might shatter the spellbinding stillness of the room. Instead, she turned her attention back to the platform, where the demonstrator was already preparing for the next sequence. But the sensation of Noah’s presence intensified.

“Do you find that interesting?” he murmured, his voice low and velvety so that only she would catch his words.

Lia, so absorbed in the intricate process before her, missed the subtle suggestion in his tone. She nodded earnestly, her eyes never leaving the scene. Behind her, Noah smiled, a sly curl of amusement tugging at his lips.

The rigger moved smoothly, his hands working with practiced ease to loop the red rope over the woman’s shoulders and around her chest, framing her torso in a symmetrical pattern. The interplay of rope against skin, the way it both restricted and enhanced her form, was mesmerizing to watch.

Noah, however, had shifted his focus to Lia.

His fingers slid down her arm, brushing her wrist lightly before curling around it. With deliberate slowness, he brought her hand behind her back. Lia hardly noticed, her attention still on the stage, until she felt him take her other wrist and guide it to meet the first.

Her breath caught in her throat.

The brochure dropped to the floor silently. 

Noah’s chest pressed closer, his body shielding hers from the view of the other spectators. His hand, large and strong, held both of her wrists in a resistant grip. The grip wasn’t painful—just firm enough to keep her still, to make her heart skip a beat.

She tried to look back at him, but her cheek met his.

“Imagine we’re in the bedroom,” he whispered, his voice dipping into a husky timbre that sent heat pooling low in her belly. “And your hands are tied at your back. Like this.”

To emphasize his point, he tightened his grip just enough to make her gasp softly. The edge of sweet discomfort prickled through her awareness, and she was acutely conscious of how exposed they were.

“Can you picture it?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Noah’s grin deepened, his teeth grazing the shell of her ear. 

“Good. Would you be willing to do anything I say? While you’re tied up? Like her?”

“Yes.” Her answer was quick and breathless, her heart hammering in her chest as his words wove a spell around her.

His lips brushed the corner of her jaw, his breath hot against her skin. 

“Can I be honest? I can picture it, too” his tone was so seductive that Lia had to press her thighs together. “I’ve pictured it so many times already. I’d make you get on your knees...” With his thumb he traced circles on the inside of her wrist. “And after that, I’d do whatever I want to you, with the only intention of pleasuring you. How does that sound?”

Lia’s pulse quickened, her lips parting.

Before she could speak, the rigger on stage gave a gentle tug to the ropes, shifting the model’s position. The sudden movement pulled Lia’s attention back to the demonstration, her cheeks flushed with both excitement and awareness of the people around her—and at the hard thing pressing against her back. 

Back to her senses, she muttered, “you’re getting a boner, Noah.”

She was not facing him, but she could tell he had looked down at his own pants. 

“Yes, I am. Shit.” He released her fast and adjusted his trousers, taking a single step away from her and looking around coyly.

Lia looked at him over her shoulder and nearly snorted. Noah send her a playful glare. 

“Don’t worry,” he told her. “We’ll have time to finish this.”

As he stepped back slightly, giving her space, Lia felt the loss of his warmth but couldn’t quite shake the lingering heat of his words. She tried to get her attention back to the stage, trying to refocus, but her mind was already far away, spinning with possibilities Noah had just whispered into existence.

The demonstration ended and everyone clapped. A couple of minutes later, Noah and Lia walked hand in hand to the workshop section, where they tried to learn the basic of knots and ended up cracking up at clumsiness they both showed at it. Lia had stayed frozen for a full ten minutes trying to understand where the teacher had instructed to pull the rope through, and Noah had at least tried, only to get his own hands tangled in the mess of rope. Lia teased him about not having learnt anything from the book he had at home. He was quick to retaliate, stepping closer to nibble playfully at her ear, whispering that he hadn’t had anyone to practice with before. 

“Now I have you,” he said, “and I plan on getting really good at it.”

At the souvenir shop afterward, they made a donation to support the various artists who had contributed to the exhibition. Lia bought a history book, paying for it along with a set of black-and-red cotton ropes that Noah dropped onto the counter. 

“They might not let us take a katana home, but I’m sure there’s no problem with a few ropes,” he stated.

The day in Tokyo was eventful. They walked a lot, saw a lot, laughed a lot and shared plenty of kisses in hidden corners of the big city. They returned home with their hands full of bags and their feet aching, though the discomfort was soon forgotten when they sat down in Hana’s tea room. They enjoyed a quiet conversation with Grandma, recounting the things they’d done and seen—leaving out a few details, of course—as they sipped lukewarm tea before heading to bed.  

Upstairs, with most of the lights in the house off and their shopping bags piled on the desk, Noah changed into his sleep shirt and sweats and waited for Lia to finish brushing her teeth in the bathroom. 

He was about to flop on the bed when she called out to him. 

“Noah, could you grab my sleeping shirt?” Lia’s voice came from the bathroom.

“You mean my shirt,” he replied with a hint of amusement, moving to her suitcase and rummaging around to retrieve it.

“It’s been mine for years now. You lost your chance to reclaim it long ago—” Her words trailed off as she entered the bedroom, only to freeze in place. She stood there in her bra and panties, and Noah, instead of holding her shirt, had something else entirely in his hands: the pair of kitty ears and the choker she’d impulsively bought in Osaka. 

One in each hand, he lifted them slowly, inspecting them with raised brows.

“What... is this?” he asked, looking up at her, intrigued.

Lia’s shoulders slumped, her cheeks flushing. 

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Oh? And why not? What exactly are you planning to do with it?” He cocked an eyebrow, studying her reaction with growing interest.

She stepped forward, reaching to snatch them from his hands, but he quickly tucked them behind his back, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Did you buy these for me?”

She huffed, barely hiding a reluctant smile. “Can you just forget you ever saw them and put them back, please?”

“No chance.”

“Noah!” she exclaimed, her tone halfway between a scold and a plea.

“I think I need to see you wearing these,” he murmured, lifting the kitty ears in one hand, his eyes then drifting to the choker in the other, as though savoring the thought.

Lia gave him a pointed look, her lips pressed together to hide her amusement. “You will. One day. But not here. Now, please—put it back?”

“Put it on.”

“Noah…”

He paused, then added with a gentler tone, “Alright. Then, let me put it on you.” His voice softened, but his eyes held a playful gleam that made it impossible to deny him.

She took a slow breath, biting her lower lip as she debated. Part of her wanted to let him have his way, but they were at Grandma’s house, of all places. However, she couldn’t deny how his expression—the mix of pleading and challenge—made her pulse quicken.

“You’re trouble,” she finally said, her tone half-resigned, half-amused.

Noah smirked, tempted to raise his fist.

“Turn around,” he commanded, his voice dipping into a more serious tone that sent a shiver down her spine.

Obediently, Lia turned. She started to lift her hair, but he was quicker, his fingers brushing along her nape in a deliberate, lingering caress. Her breath hitched as he fastened the choker, slipping it around her neck. His arms grazed her shoulders as he clasped it, and he gently tugged her hair free to let it cascade down her back.

When she turned to face him, her heartbeat thudding, she saw him struggling to maintain his composure. He handed her the kitty ears with a quiet intensity in his eyes. She took them, placing them on her head, pushing her long hair back with a shy smile.

As she stood there, arms falling to her sides, he took a step back to take her in fully. His gaze fell on the choker, and she saw the way his playful smirk vanished, replaced by something deeper, something raw.

“Fuck.” 

There was a beat of silence. Lia blinked as she read his expression, then her eyes dropped to the bulge that had appeared down his front, and she felt a surge of power curse through her. 

Yes, she thought. Fuck it.

Her hands went to the laces of his joggers, and the sudden motion snapped Noah out of his trance. 

He caught her wrists. “No.” 

She froze. She waited, her breath catching. Then he continued, his tone dropping lower, dripping with command. 

“Get on your knees.”

Her stomach flipped. Oh, God.

Slowly, she sank to her knees, the soft carpet on the wooder floor brushing her legs as she looked up at him with brown doe eyes. Maybe it was a risk, but she took her hands back to his laces, and this time, he didn’t stop her. He let her undo them and pull his sweats down as he peeled his t-shirt off quickly, discarding it onto the floor. Lia pushed his underwear down, his cock springing free, thick and hard. 

“You’re gonna suck me, right?” he asked with strain. “I need you to s—”

Lia cut him off by wrapping her fingers around the base of his length and lifting it slightly to drag her tongue along the underside. She started at the base, tracing the thick vein that pulsed beneath her touch, all the way to the head. 

“Lia… Fuck.” 

She took her time, savoring the weight of him in her hand, her tongue exploring every inch. When she finally began to bob her head, his sharp inhale was all the encouragement she needed. Everything that came out from his mouth after were moans and praise.

“That’s it. God,” he murmured, “the mouth you have…”

The pride that filled her was electric, and it must have shown in her eyes because Noah’s lips quirked into a grin even as he struggled to maintain his composure. 

“You like that, Lia? You like sucking my cock?”

She couldn’t say yes—not with her mouth full—, so she doubled her efforts, hollowing her cheeks and taking him deeper. His features contorted as though caught between pleasure and pain, and she felt his fingers move to her head, his hands tangling in her hair as he helped guide her movements. 

“Keep going, baby.” His words were choked, punctuated by grunts. “Just like that. Yes.”

He looked down at her again, thinking he must have done something extraordinary in his life to deserve this—to have such a beautiful girl on her knees with her mouth full of him. On top of that, her desire and enjoyment were palpable in every moment. Knowing he was making her happy by having her at his mercy ignited a possessive thrill that rushed through him.  

His hands caressed her scalp, guiding her motions. Lia closed her eyes, her tongue working with deliberate twists and touches. She tried to take him deeper, twisting her tongue to draw more sounds from him, her confidence soaring with each groan that escaped his lips.  

Then, with that voice of his, that low, deep tone that never failed to leave her weak, his hands tightened in her hair as she murmured, “You’re such a good girl.” The praise was so raw it almost undid her. Heat flooded her body as she thought she might come just from his words alone. “You look so pretty on your knees, baby.” 

One hand slid from her hair to her chin, his touch gentle despite the fire in his eyes. He tilted her face upward, and as her lips released him, his cock slipped out of her mouth, a string of saliva connecting them. Her tongue darted out to lick it away before she bit her lip, wanting more. 

“You’re driving me crazy,” he admitted, his voice rough as his dark gaze trailed to her neck and the baby pink collar still snug there. “I’m never letting you take that choker off.”

Lia thought he would let her finish him, that she’s have him falling apart in her hands—and mouths—but Noah had other plans. Taking himself in his hand, he helped her rise to her feet. His hands cupped her cheeks, pulling her into a kiss that stole her breath. He didn’t give a fuck about tasting himself on her lips. 

The kiss was all-consuming, leaving her dizzy as he walked her backward toward the low bed. 

Once her knees hit the mattress, he guided her down, his hands slipping to the waistband of her panties. 

“Take off your bra.”

She obeyed without hesitation—she was Noah’s good girl—, unhooking the clasp and discarding the thin bra next to her. Noah tugged her panties down, tossing them aside before covering her body with his.  He trailed a path of kisses from her lower belly to her chest, kissing and licking her nipples and then sucking at her neck at the same time his cock made its way inside of her, making her gasp and grab onto his shoulders.  

With the friction of the bodies moving, the movements sent the kitty headband on her head slipping back. With a quick hand, Noah removed it, letting it rest on the pillow next to Lia’s head. 

“The choker stays,” his voice declared against her ear. His voice was low, possessive, and his words were followed by another murmuring that sounded very much like a “you’re mine”. He buried his face in her neck and thrust into her again and again. 

“Open your legs wider, Lia,” he urged. “That’s it. Good girl.”

She moaned in response. 

“Say my name.” Noah instructed. It was a command, a desperate one. There was something raw in the way he said it—a need he couldn’t suppress. He needed to hear his name on her lips. Over and over and over. 

“Noah, please.”

“Yes, Lia,” he groaned, his pace quickening. “Say it again. I’ll give you anything you want. Anything you need.”

“More, Noah. Please.”

He would give her more. He would give her everything. 

“Lia.” His voice was a mantra as his lips found hers again. 

“Noah,” she moaned, her eyes fluttering shut as her body surrendered.  

“Lia,” he repeated.

“Yes,” she breathed. She was barely present, her words more a reflex than conscious thought. 

“Lia, open your eyes,” he said, his voice softer now. 

Her eyes fluttered open, and the world shifted. 

Darkness enveloped the room, and her breath caught in her throat. Noah wasn’t on top of her anymore. He wasn’t naked—and neither was she.

He was lying on his side of the bed, propped on one elbow, his expression etched with concern as he patted her cheek. 

“Lia,” he said softly. “Are you okay?”

Oh, Jesus…

“Were you having a nightmare?” He asked. 

Lia’s hands shot to her neck, only to find there was no choker clasped around it. Her movement didn’t escape Noah’s notice, and his gaze narrowed suspiciously. 

“Was someone hurting you?”

“N—no, nothing like that,” she stammered, shaking her head. 

“That’s what I thought,” he added, his voice turning into something more of a tease, “because you were moaning my name.”

Lia froze. Uh, oh.

So… She had been having a wet dream.

And Noah knew. 

“Wanna tell me what you were dreaming about?”

Before she could respond, his hand slipped under the covers and under the waistband of her pajama pants and panties. His fingers grazed her, and he cursed in surprise as they came away with slick. 

“What the hell was I doing to you that got you this wet?” he asked, his voice rough now, desire flooding his tone. 

Lia could only close her eyes, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as his fingers began to circle her clit.

“You’re not going to tell me?” He pressed. 

She shook her head, biting her lip to suppress a moan. 

“Maybe I won’t let you come, then,” he threatened, his tone playful but edged with real intent. 

Her eyes flew open, shocked, and her hands moved instinctively to his wrist to keep his hand in place. 

“It’s a surprise,” she said, her voice breathy as his fingers circled her clit again. She moved her hand to his crotch, then, where she was met with his obvious erection, cock straining against the fabric of his sweats.

“A surprise?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “I promise to tell you once we’re back home.” 

“And why can’t you tell me now?” His voice dropped, his curiosity turning almost predatory. 

“Because if I tell you, I don’t think you’ll be able to keep it together. And Grandma is a few doors down.”

That obviously only heightened his interest, his eyes darkening with frustration and amusement in equal measure. But he trusted her.  She was smart, and her reasoning—even if infuriating—was probably sound. He could still have her anyway, and he’d be content by just being inside of her and barely moving. 

“Fine,” he relented, but a low escaped him as he added. “You’re lucky I’m a patient man and you’re adorable when you’re having wet dreams.”

That only made Lia blush harder as she playfully pushed at him. 

His hands moved quickly from then, tugging at her waistband as she helped him out of his clothes. Pajamas and underwear were discarded with a shared urgency, their hands brushings and lips touching as they worked together. 

When the last clothing barrier was gone, Noah retrieved a condom from nearby and rolled it on with ease. He settled himself between her thighs and under the quilt. His weight against her was always comforting, grounding.

The way he looked at her, like she was his entire world, made her pulse race. 

“I’ll take this,” he murmured, “but you’re telling me everything as soon as we’re back in the States.”

And with that, he surged forward, capturing her lips in a kiss that silenced any response she might have given, the night stretching out before them in whispered sighs and muffled moans.

At the first stretch, Lia gasped. The first thrust never failed to make her brace herself against Noah’s shoulders, her fingers clutching for stability as she adjusted to the feeling of fullness. She had learned in their short time together as a couple that Noah always watched her intently in this moment. His expression conveyed so many emotions. His jaw was tight. There was a small wrinkle between his brows, and a dark unrelenting hunger in his eyes that contrasted with the careful gentleness of his love for her. 

As he began to move, her body relaxed. It was a dance, a symphony of shared breaths and whispered sighs, their connection running deeper than just physical pleasure. 

One of Noah’s hands slid to cradle the side of her head, his thumb brushing her forehead tenderly. With the other, he gripped her wrist and pinned her arm above her head. Lia let out a soft exhale and moved her free hand to rest beside the one he held captive, silently asking him to hold her completely.

Understanding, a cheeky smile curved Noah’s mouth. He pressed closer to her, meeting her yearning expression with one of his own before he dived to kiss her, teeth and tongue and all. 

It was slow, but it spoke louder than words. The eye contact making both weak in each other’s arms. Not even five minutes into it, Lia wriggled her wrist and Noah released her hands. Her finger found Noah’s face, and she dragged a finger along his lips, wet from her kisses. He caught it between his teeth with a teasing bite before letting it go, his features contorting with rising pleasure. 

“I’m not far,” he whispered, his voice tight. 

“Me neither,” she managed. “Can you…?”

“Yeah.”

He knew exactly what she needed. 

His fingers found her clit, rubbing as he increased his pace. He was tempted to cover Lia’s mouth with his other hand, but instead, he let it be, allowing the tension between them to coil tighter and tighter, their breathing growing ragged.

When Lia’s orgasm took hold of her, Noah thrust one last time, making her back arch even more. A loud sob escaped her lips, and that’s when Noah did cover her mouth, muffling the sound as his face buried itself in the curve of her neck. His body trembled with his release, spasms overtaking him as he spilled into the condom. 

Lia’s body shuddered beneath him, her legs locking around his waist as she bucked against him, riding out the last ripples of her pleasure. 

In the stillness that followed, Noah’s weight pressed her into the mattress, and she kept hugging him tightly, not ever letting go. For a long while, neither of them spoke. 

Noah’s mind wandered, and in the quiet of the night, with Lia’s heart beating against his own, he reflected on their past and every step, every scratch and heartbreak that had led them inevitably to this moment. 

Feeling more settled and thankful than ever, he whispered against her skin, “All my life, I was waiting for you without knowing it.”

Lia blinked, adjusting to the darkness in the room to find his eyes. Her fingers traced his face, her touch reverent as she admired the man he had become. “All those years,” she replied softly, “you deserved a better version of me.”

“It doesn’t matter what version I deserved,” he replied, his voice filled with conviction as he touched her pink cheek with the bend of his index finger. “I had you. I have you now, and I’ve loved every version of you.” 

Her eyes welled with emotion as she leaned up, brushing her lips against his as she promised, “You’re mine, Noah.”

— prev. chapter | chapter fourteen

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[freckles-things]

Out of Time // Part 3

Summary: “The Revelation” is followed by a ton of apologies, reassurances, and grovelling. But is that enough for you to decide to stay at the BAU? Or will you leave after all? 

Pairing: BAU!Team x Reader (platonic)

Warnings: feeling left out, feeling unneeded, being excluded, self worth issues

Part 1 / Part 2

---

After the revelation the previous evening you hadn’t done anything but driven home and gone to sleep. You hadn’t been in the frame of mind to deal with it. And frankly, you just didn’t want to. Hotch had promised to hold the position on the team for you. And after everything that had happened, they could damn well wait a few days longer, you decided as you stayed wrapped up in your bedsheets the next morning. Still not feeling ready to deal with the situation. You logically knew that sooner or later you had to. But right now, later looked like the more promising option. So, you stayed at home the entire day, fixing yourself several cups of your favourite drink, watching random TV-Shows, and pointedly not thinking about the entire mess.

You had fully intended to spend the next day in a similar fashion, but you were ever so rudely interrupted by a doorbell ringing. Disgruntled you wrapped yourself out of your blankets and wandered over to the door. You weren’t expecting anyone. Slowly opening the door, you were surprised to see Rossi standing in front of you. He was holding a casserole and gifted you with a small smile.

“Bellissima, it is good to see you. I tried to call to see if you were up for a visitor, but you didn't pick up. So, I thought I’d just come by and see. I also brought lunch, it is my Nona’s famous family recipe for lasagna alla Rossi. If you’re not up to seeing anyone I’ll just leave you the lunch and be on my way”, he shifted a little, unsure if he was welcome or not.

The lasagna smelled delicious and out of all the people that could have dropped by you were glad that it was Rossi. Your heart warmed a little at the thought that he had made food for you especially, and despite all still left you with an opening to decline his visit. You took a few steps back to let him in and lead him towards the little kitchen area in your apartment. You were slightly embarrassed at the state it was in since you had only stacked your dishes on top of each other for the last few days. Neither of you spoke while Rossi busied himself warming up the food, except for his little comment that it would be a crime to warm it up in the microwave, and you tidied up the kitchen area and the blankets in your living room. You set two places at your small dining table and waited for Rossi to finish with the food. It turned out that he also had brought a delicious looking garlic bread to go with it. You decided to pour both of you a glass of red wine, the last bottle you had left.

You had expected the silence between you to be awkward and loaded with things waiting to be said. Surprisingly it wasn’t. It was a comfortable silence that was broken once Rossi brought out two plates with Lasagna and garlic bread. It seemed that you both had silently agreed to talk about the serious topic once lunch had been eaten. And so, both of you tucked in.

“This is by far the best Lasagna I’ve ever eaten, Rossi. I’ll never be able to eat the premade ones ever again” you complimented once you had tasted it. You had barely refrained from embarrassing yourself with a moan at the first taste. It truly was one of the most delicious dishes you’d ever eaten.

“Nona will be glad to hear that”, Rossi chuckled slightly. “She absolutely detests premade pasta dishes.” You couldn’t help but smile at that.

“Your grandma is still alive?”

“Oh yes. Fierce little puffetta, that one. She barely reaches my shoulder, and she can’t walk very well anymore, but I’ve never seen men more afraid that when faced with her wrath.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the childhood stories with his grandma that he told you. Your favourite one was when she’d chased him through the entire town to drag him back home by his ear to apologise to the poor girl he had insulted by accident.

“Well, I know who taught you your manners then”, you winked at him, which made him chuckle.

“Si, Bella. And I can assure you that I still feel like a little boy every time I see her. The last time she admonished me about my shoes. Said that I had all that money and still didn’t know how to shine my shoes properly.”

He told you some more about his Italian family while you both finished your food, and you cleaned the dishes. You insisted since he’d already premade and warmed up the food. You were also very gratified to see his surprised face when you asked him if he wanted an espresso or some other drink with coffee while motioning to your high-end portafilter coffee machine, which you had bought with your very first BAU paycheck. You were a bit of a coffee addict. A few minutes and one espresso and one latte later, the two of you were back in your living room again.

“When you came over yesterday and you complimented the house, I realised that, in all your time on the team, you hadn’t been there before. And while I was preparing the food and wondered why that was the case, I realised that I had never actually invited you. Dolcezza, I am so sorry. I have no excuse, at least no good one, and I am sorry that I have caused you pain.” His face and his voice were solemn but genuine, and you were surprised that he had started your conversation like that. You shrugged slightly, not quite sure how to react to his words.

“It’s fine, I know that none of you wanted to hurt me”, you awkwardly muttered, which caused Rossi to lean forward and encase your hands in his. His calloused fingers gently rubbed warm circles into the back of your hands.

“You’re not fine, cara mia. You didn’t know that you were excluded by accident. But even so, it should never have happened at all. We all should have noticed, and we did in some way, but never questioned it. If only one of us had deigned to ask you why you weren’t with us after one of those team outings, all this wouldn’t have happened. But none of us did and the fault lies with us. We’re the best profilers of the country and yet we didn’t even notice we were hurting one of our own.”

“I didn’t want you to notice. I didn’t want anyone to feel bad about it.”

At that Rossi chuckled sadly, scooting a little closer and releasing your hands in order to cup your face.

“But it wasn’t your job to protect us from our own stupid and careless mistakes, Gioia. You had, and still have, every right to feel hurt. The fact that no one of us intended to hurt you doesn’t matter. We did, and you have dealt with it all on your own for a long time. The fact that you didn’t want anyone to know that we had hurt you, so we didn’t feel bad about it, says a lot about your character. As does the fact that we never noticed about ours.” His thumb gently brushed away a tear you hadn’t noticed shedding and his soft eyes never left yours.

“You have helped all of us so much and made a lot of things easier for us with all the little things you did. Sei un raggio di sole, Y/N. But even a ray of sunshine needs to be nourished. We clearly haven’t. And I can understand if you need and want to search for another place where you can find that nourishment, because you deserve it. I would truly miss you terribly, but I want you to fly, passerotta.”

By now tears were streaming down your face, which still was carefully held between his warm hands. You felt pathetic, but you hadn’t noticed how badly you needed to hear someone acknowledge that they made a mistake. Yes, Hotch had said that as well, but it hadn’t really registered then. Deep down you still had felt that it had been your own mistake. That you should have said something or that there was something wrong with you, that you were just unlikable like that.

But Rossi never said anything he didn’t mean. That was his one rule, for which you had always appreciated him. Yes, sometimes that meant hearing the harsh truth in uncomfortable situations. But it also meant that you never had to worry about some hidden meaning or little white lies. And it was the reason that you started to feel like maybe there was a way to work past all this.

Your heart ached at the truth and compassion in his voice and the earnest and determined gaze with which he still gazed at you. Gentle fingers softly caressing your cheek and tucking single strands of hair behind your ear. God, you really didn’t want to lose Rossi in your life. You’d never before had a person of such pure comfort in your life. Even in the past year Rossi had always been the one who had offered you a gentle hug and an open ear if things at work had gotten bad. The pain in your chest grew at the image of a life without him and his steady support and comfort. Just thinking about it had you squeezing your eyes closed and swallowing hard.

“Cara mia…”, you heard his soft voice again and couldn’t help yourself. You blindly threw yourself in his arms, which instantly wrapped around you in a secure hold.

“I don’t want to leave the team”, you muttered between sobs. “I don’t want to lose you.” You buried your face against his neck, hands gripping onto the fabric of his suit. His arms tightened around you and one of his hands came up to cradle your head protectively against his neck, the other one tracing small circles against your waist.

“Oh Y/N…”, he said softly, voice full of emotions. “I don’t want to lose you either, Dolcezza.” Your body trembled in his arms, and he gently swayed the two of you, humming a gentle tune under his breath and softly resting his head atop yours. It was only some time later that you bashfully moved back to your own chair again.

“I think I ruined your suit”, you muttered, feeling bad about the expensive Italian garment. But Rossi just chuckled in response.

“It’s just fabric. You’re more important.” You couldn’t help the small smile appearing on your face at his words. Being vulnerable had never been your strong suit and you felt a little awkward sitting opposite him after your emotional outburst. Rossi however was always one to help in such situations and grinned at you:

“I think after this we both deserve some dessert to make us feel better.”

“You brought dessert?”

“Might have hidden it in your fridge”, he winked and moved to get it and to give you a moment to sort out your face, before coming back with two portions of Tiramisu.

“Also your grandmas’ receipt?”, you asked before trying the first bite, which was absolutely the best bite of Tiramisu you’d ever had.

“No, this one is actually my father’s receipt. He would burn down the kitchen trying to make the lasagna, but when it comes to backing and desserts no one can beat him.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that and continued to enjoy your dessert.

The two of you spent the rest of the evening on your couch, talking and enjoying the rest of the wine you had opened for lunch. Only once it had gotten dark outside did Rossi say his goodbyes and made his way home. You helped him to collect his now clean casseroles as well as his jacket and followed him towards the door. Before he could go though, you felt the need to tell him something.

“Rossi?”, you called after him once he had passed the threshold. He turned around, looking questioningly at you.

“I forgive you”, you said softly, feeling a bit ridiculous to say it. Feeling like the words were too big, because it hadn't been all that bad. But once you saw his shoulders relax and the tension leave his body with an unconscious breath of relief, you knew you’d done the right thing. A gentle smile took over his features.

“Thank you, Gioia.” He pressed a soft kiss against your forehead before moving towards his car. You just nodded and smiled, waving after the retreating vehicle.

---

After your talk with Rossi you had felt better, but you had also realized that you needed to talk with the other team members if you wanted to make a decision. And so you agreed, when two days later Derek texted you and asked if he could come by for lunch. This time your flat was appropriately tidied up and you were freshly showered and felt a lot more prepared to deal with everything.

You still felt nervous and a little apprehensive though. You weren’t sure what to expect, but you resolved to just let the conversation happen and to see where it went. You had just finished setting two places at your dining table, a little déjà vu to Rossi’s visit two days prior, when your doorbell rang. Taking a deep breath you moved towards the door to open it. In front of you stood Derek in casual ware and two huge bags of food in hand.

“Hey Derek! Have you invited anyone else or are you planning on feeding us into a food coma?”, you grinned at him. For a split second he appeared to be surprised by your usual casual greeting, before he grinned back at you and waggled his eyebrows:

“Just you wait until you’ve tried Mama Jones cooking. You’ll complain that I haven’t brought enough.”

You laughed and stepped aside to let him in, relieving him of one of the bags as he walked past you. He toed of his shoes and followed you to your little dining area, where you were already unpacking some of the food, which appeared to be different kinds of barbeque and really did look mouth-watering.

“It does smell really good”, you conceded. “We’ll see if it can keep up with Rossi’s lasagna.”

Derek started unpacking the remaining food from his bag, chuckling at the comment.

“Aha, I’m not the only one that came bearing food. I see how it is.”

“At least you came with a warning and thus have the luxury of a clean flat and a representable me. But I see that Rossi hasn’t sacred you away with exaggerated tales of our meeting”, you jokingly said.

“Nope. Rossi didn’t tell us anything, just that he went to see you. Actually, he might have told Hotch something, but nothing to the rest of the team.” Derek was smiling, but you heard the underlying sense of seriousness that conveyed that they were taking the whole situation to heart. And you felt undoubtedly relieved that Rossi hadn’t said anything. Not that you had really expected him to, but it was good to know either way. You smiled back and went to get some drinks for the two of you, asking Derek what he'd like.

A few minutes later the two of you were eating and thoroughly enjoying the food.

“You weren’t kidding about the food. You need to tell me where I can get this, I don’t think I can live without it in my life anymore.”

“I’d never joke about Mama Jones food, Darlin”, he drawled in an overexaggerated accent which made you laugh.

He told you a bit about his newest project, a lovely old house a short distance from the city, which he was currently deconstructing to turn it into a gem. He was planning on upcycling a lot of the old details and structures but there still was a lot of work left. In exchange you told Derek about your upstairs rooms which you had remodelled on your own. Your bedroom had been done for some time. There was one huge room though, which was the reason a lot of people didn’t want to have the small house since they thought the layout was whacky, which you were currently transforming into your very own library. You were pretty excited about it, since your own In-house library was one of your childhood dreams. You talked about which woods you were going to choose and how to best use the available space. Derek had a few ideas which you happily took into consideration as well as his offer of help once you had decided on your final plan, which you gladly accepted. You were far from helpless and were pretty sure that you could do it on your own, but it would definitely be faster with help, and you were sure that Derek had a few tricks you could learn from.

Afterwards you stacked the dishes in the kitchen and offered Derek some dessert and another drink. You settled on the couch with some self-baked cookies and two coffees just a few minutes later.

“So, onto the heavy conversation then?”, you teased lightly. Scratching his neck awkwardly Derek nodded before sighing quietly.

“I was surprised that you even want to see us if I’m being honest. I had expected this lunch to go a very different way.”

“Yeah, I noticed you were slightly surprised when I didn’t yell at you after opening the door”, you muttered, slight smile still on your lips.

“I was definitely prepared for that. If our roles were reserved, I probably would have.” Derek shifted a little so his body was turned more towards you, leaning forward slightly to be able to look into your eyes more easily.

“I logically know that neither of you intended to hurt me. It doesn’t change that it hurts and that the past year has been less than stellar, but I know that you didn’t do it out of malice”, you softly admitted, shifting your gaze to a point behind Derek.

“That’s the thing though, isn’t it? We might not have intended to hurt you, but we did. Maybe Hotch and Rossi have a little more leeway since they have their offices and don’t always see all that’s going on in the bullpen, but you sat right in the middle of the group and we all didn’t see how we were hurting you. I still can’t believe we never asked you why you weren’t at one of the outings. God, you must have hated us.”

“Not really. I just thought that you all might not like me or maybe did like me but only as a colleague and not as a friend. And you would have had every right to feel like that after all. How could I hate you for that?” Any you meant it, too. Even if the entire situation had not turned out to be some kind of misunderstanding, you could never have hated the team. Yes, the experience would have been miserable and you would have been disappointed, but you don’t think you would have had it in you to actually hate anyone.

Derek’s eyebrows did a complicated thing before settling in a frown.

“You’re way too good for us, Y/N. We’ve all made a mistake, several mistakes. I don’t have any excuse, not that an excuse would make the situation any better, but I am truly sorry. I’ve never meant to hurt you, but I did continuously. I want you to know that you’re a great asset to the team, not just as a colleague but as the person that you are and as a friend and a member of our little family. And I want you to know that you are likeable. You’re the person always brightening things up for us and I don’t think we have appreciated that enough.”

Derek’s voice was soft but you could see in his eyes the pain of the knowledge that he had hurt you. You could also see the affection and earnestness. And wasn’t this just proof of his stupidly big heart? You let his words sink in for a few moments, feeling how your shoulders relaxes and tension left your body. After Rossi’s visit it still was a relieve to hear Derek say something similar. But Derek continued before you could answer.

“I know that this might be a bit much, but you know that Spencer is like a little brother to me. The same goes for you, just as a sister of course. Even though I have enough of them already. Even if you decide that this team isn’t for you anymore that will not change. Do you think you can forgive me?”

A smile slowly spread over your face before you moved to hug Derek, a gesture he gladly returned.

“Apology accepted”, you murmured against his chest, which made him hug you even tighter.

“If anyone ever treats you that way again, even if it’s one of us, call me to hit them over the head.” You had a feeling that he was only half joking but couldn’t help the giggle escaping your lips.

“Sure thing, Big Bro”, you teased lightly. Derek’s hugs were comfortable. Warm and secure and because of his size you felt like you basically disappeared within his arms. You moved back to look at his face.

“Thank you, Derek. I really appreciate it”, you smiled and settled besides him again, a bit closer this time.

“I don’t think I want to leave the team. But I’m not sure yet. I think I just need to talk to everyone before I make the final decision.” Derek wrapped one arm around your shoulder, which prompted you to lean against his strong form.

“I’m not gonna lie and say that I’m not glad to hear that. What would you like to do if you decided against staying, though?” He didn’t sound accusatory or disappointed but curious about your thoughts. You remembered your talk about career prospects after you had first told him that you were leaving and out of all members of the team, Derek had been the one with the best advice. Simply because he really cared about your future.

“There’s a free position at the Counterintelligence Division for the Counterespionage Section that I think might be really interesting as well as a position at the Organized Crime Section. I don’t think I’d want to go back to deal with criminals though if I decided to leave.”

“I can understand that. As interesting as the BAU is, it’s a lot to deal with sometimes. The CE Section would be something else entirely which might be a great challenge for you. I heard that the teams are rather young as well, which might be great to work with.”

You talked about your job prospects outside of the team for a while, bouncing ideas and opinions back and forth. If you were honest to yourself though, it made you feel like leaving the team even less.

At some point you offered to watch a film and relax a little together, Derek had used up his free day to see you after all. He agreed grinned when you told him that he could decide on the film. You went into the kitchen to prepare some snacks and drinks and to give Derek some time to decide. Once you had positioned popcorn, chips, and beer on the table you settled back on the sofa to see which film he chose, which made you laugh hysterically.

“The Emperor’s New Groove? Seriously Derek?”

“What? It’s a great film!”, he defended but there was a huge smile on his face. You couldn’t very well argue with the reasoning. It was a great film after all. Just not what you had expected him to choose. Still giggling you grabbed one of the blankets and settled against his side, spreading the fabric over the two of you. He grabbed the bowl of snacks and the drinks and positioned them safely on your labs before settling down and wrapping an arm around you. Both of you laughed and commented on the film, munching on the snacks. After the first film followed the second, and you felt yourself grow tired. Snuggling more comfortably into Derek’s side and with his big hand caressing your hair, you felt your eyes slowly close and drifted off into sleep.

The next morning you woke up on your couch, blanket securely wrapped around you and the table cleared off. Instead of the snack bowl and the empty beer bottles there was a plate with a breakfast beagle and a small bowl of fruit as well as a small note in Derek’s handwriting.

“Y/N, I had to leave for work – new case, you know how it is. Can’t let the bossman wait too long and I didn’t want to wake you since you were sleeping so peacefully. Enjoy breakfast, the coffee machine is ready to go as well. Hope to see you soon, Derek x.”

Stepping into the kitchen you couldn’t help but smile. He’d obviously spent some time washing the dishes from yesterday and had selected your most ridiculous mug to position under the coffee machine. You started it and with a filled mug in hand moved back to the couch, enjoying your breakfast and sending a message of thanks to Derek.

---

Your first meet up with Spencer after that fateful dinner was actually instigated by you. No matter what had happened or however complicated the situation was, you missed Spencer. And you were fairly sure that out of all your teammates, he was the one who would take the situation the hardest. After all, he had experienced similar situations all his life. So it was you who texted Spencer and asked if he was up for a coffee at your favourite café. It took him a while to respond and you weren’t sure if it was because the team had a new case or because he was anxious. He did respond with an affirmation though, which was really all that mattered to you right now.

So, after a much-needed day without one of your teammates coming by to apologize, which you had still used to do some serious thinking, you made your way to the café with a renewed sense of purpose. That went out of the window however when you saw Spencer standing in front of the café, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. He had dark circles under his eyes and his face was gaunt, his hair a mess and you were pretty sure that he was even skinnier than before – even though that was hardly possible. You rushed over to him, gently gripping his shoulders.

“Spence! Are you alright? You look ill. Goodness, you should have told me if you weren’t feeling well, we could have rescheduled!” Spencer however was just staring at you, blinking rapidly. You frowned and gently cupped his face.

“Spence?”, you asked again. His eyes focused on your face and his own expression morphed into a confused frown.

“You’re concerned about me? Why?”, his voice was soft as always, but raspy as if he hadn’t spoken in days.

“What do you mean, Spencer? Of course I’m worried about you if you don’t feel well.” Now you were the one being confused. What was going on here?

“But I hurt you.” Everything fell into place the moment he said the words. Spencer was feeling guilty. And, as well known, Spencer wasn’t the best at dealing with feelings and emotions. You studied his face and his form again, noting all the little giveaways of tiredness and exhaustion. You sighed softly and gently cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

“Yes, you all did. But You’re my friend Spencer, a very good friend at that and as a friend I do love you. And that love doesn’t just go away because you made a mistake or hurt me in any way. I don’t want to see you ill or not feeling your best in any way.” It took some moments for Spencer to absorb your words, but you absolutely knew when he did because tears threatened to spill. You pulled him into a strong hug, burying your own face against his shoulder.

“I’m glad to see you, Spence. I missed you and your statistics”, you muttered quietly but knew he had heard you when he squeezed you once.

“I missed you, too” he whispered against your neck. Staying like that for some time, you both were smiling once you moved away from each other.

“Coffee?”, you grinned at him.

“Definitely!”, he smiled back and held open the door for you to pass through. You walked to the small table you always took when it was empty. It was a bit more secluded than the rest of them but had a perfect view on the people passing outside. People watching was something both you and Spencer enjoyed, and a little distraction surely wouldn’t go amiss during the following conversation. In the meantime, Spencer went to order your drinks.

Once Spencer had brought over your drinks and was sitting opposite you, you noticed how he started to fidget with the spoon, obviously being anxious about the oncoming conversation.

“So, let’s get over with the bad side of the conversation so we can talk about nicer things”, you wink at him, giving him the opportunity to start. It was obvious that he had thought about everything, and by the looks of it, had forgone sleep in the process.

“I was surprised you reached out after everything”, he stated quietly.

“I thought about the situation for a long time. And I never thought any of you excluded me with malicious intent, to begin with. When Hotch offered to hold the position and after Rossi came over to talk to me, I found that I needed to talk to each of you before making my final decision. Rossi came by without announcing his visit and Derek also didn’t leave me much chance, even though he at least let me know in advance. After a day without anyone of the team I reached out to you because I miss our conversations. And because I want to clear up the situation between us. Because even if I were to decide to leave the team, I don’t want to lose the friendship that we have.” You smiled at him, trying to reassure him that the conversation wouldn’t end in a bad way. Spencer swallowed hard and fidgeted with his spoon for another few moments before taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders.

“I want to apologize. I know that we have been kind of excluding you and I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I don’t have any excuse. I know I haven’t been including you in conversations or inviting you to hang out with us. I know you’re probably feeling left out and like you don’t belong with the team, but I want you to know that’s not how we feel about you at all. You’re a vital part of this team… and our friend group.” You nodded along to his words.

“I think I know that now. Over the last year there were instances when I thought you all hadn’t invited me on purpose. That hurt. And I needed some time to come to terms with the fact that this all was just a big unfortunate misunderstanding which made me feel like a failure and like I wasn’t good enough for almost a year. But I understand that no one of you had any ill intentions. It doesn’t make the past year any better, but I do think we all can work through this if I stay on the team.” Spencer listened intently and slowly nodded carefully.

“I know it hasn’t been easy for you, being left out like that. But I want you to know that I value your contributions as a colleague and I appreciate everything you do as a friend. You did a lot for us. Not just for cases but in the office as well. All the times you brought coffee or breakfast for the team or the one time you made sure each of us had a little something for Valentine's Day last year. I’ll do better, I promise.”

You reached over the table to grasp Spencer’s hand, which had finally stopped playing with the spoon, and squeezed it gently.

“Thank you, Spencer. That means a lot.”

“I just wish that I had noticed earlier.”

“Well, me as well”, you chuckled, throwing him an exaggerated wink which made him smile.

“I felt really guilty when we found out. Still do, to be honest. As I said, I don’t want to excuse my actions or anyone’s really. I just thought you might be a very private person, closed off, just like I was in the beginning. I didn’t want to pressure you into doing something you really didn’t want to do. I feel a bit stupid just having assumed that.”

“It’s alright, Spencer. Well, maybe not alright. But I’m glad that we found out that it was all an unfortunate misunderstanding before the transfer went through. I really do love this team and I would hate to give it up.”

Both of you sipped on your drink for a few minutes, letting everything that had been said sink in properly. Even though you believed what you’d said, that no one of your fellow team members had any ill intentions, it still felt good to hear the apology. You still didn’t want Spencer to run himself in the ground though. So, you grabbed his hand again.

“I do accept your apology, Spencer. And I’m glad that we talked about it. I don’t want you to feel guilty anymore though, alright? Well, maybe a little. But promise me to not lose any sleep over it anymore.” Spencer smiled at you, shrugging a little.

“I’ll try.”

“Well, that’s good enough for now”, you grinned back at him.

“Did you know that prior social neuroscience studies have shown that similar areas in the brain are activated when we experience physical and social pain?”

You arched a playful eyebrow at Spencer’s little fact as if to say “oh, I hadn’t noticed” and couldn’t help but laugh at Spencer’s bashful expression when he noticed what he’d said.

“Well, do you also have a fun fact about Red Velvet Cake, because I’m going to bully you into buying me a slice and another coffee.”

“Of course I do. The recipe was known to the public for revenge. When it first originated, a Lady ate the cake in a restaurant and liked it quite a lot. She asked the restaurant for the recipe but they charged her $100 for it. She became so enraged that she widely spread the recipe as a form of revenge.”

You couldn’t help your laughter as he went to buy you the cake and another drink without even arguing. Of course Spencer would know random facts about cake. And of course Spencer would feel guilty. He was a brilliant man, even though you were sure that even brilliant was an understatement sometimes, and he was the one person on the team that always paid attention to everyone and everything. You were pretty sure that he had beaten himself up over not noticing those past few days. You just hoped that your words had helped a little. Just as his words had soothed an ache inside your heart.

Both of you spent the rest of the afternoon watching the people passing outside the café and trying to make up stories about them. Spencer sent you into hysterics with an elaborate story about an elderly lady dressed in fur, who in his opinion was a foreign spy from western Europe trying to steal the secret cat food recipe so her 37 cats back home would finally be content and not wake her up at 4am anymore.

Feeling more content than you had in the last few days, except maybe for right after you’d eaten Rossi’s Lasagna, you made your way home. Feeling like staying on the team might actually be the right thing to do. You hadn’t lied to Spencer when you’d told him that you felt that you all could work through the issue at hand.

---

In the following two days you met up with both Emily and JJ. Emily had been quite frank as always. She’d asked you why you’d never said anything at all but backtracked pretty fast when she noticed how the question might sound to you.

“I just- I can’t believe the entire team was that stupid. We’re all profilers, the best of the best at that. We should have noticed. We all know the ‘no profiling each other’ rule doesn’t work either way because we subconsciously do so anyways”, she’d explained awkwardly before apologising for the situation at hand.

You were content with that, however. Everyone knew that Emily was a private person, guarding her life and her emotions very well. Often times it was only Hotch who could see though her, but then again Hotch could see through almost everyone.

To say that you had been surprised when Emily suddenly hugged you would be an understatement. Returning the hug, she’d quietly apologized and promise to pay more attention. Only after you had accepted the apology, she’d dragged you to go out and get drinks.

The meeting with JJ had been pretty similar. She’d straight up apologized and promised to do better. She knew the impact feeling unworthy could have first hand, she’d explained hinting at her sister. You both had talked through the situation while Will supplied both of you with non-alcoholic drinks on a semi-regular basis.

You had also briefly talked about what you would do if you were to decide not to stay on the team. JJ had been supportive and offered to introduce you to some of the people working in the other teams if you decided to leave. Due to her time as media liaison, she knew quite a lot people outside the BAU Team.

The meeting had then shifted into a catch up on different topics and you had been supplied several pictures of Henry, who was at a birthday party at the moment. He seemed to be a sweet child if all the pictures were anything to go by. JJ promised to introduce you in the near future. You also found that Will had quite a wicked sense of humour and was great to talk to. Once the serious discussion had been over, he had joined the two of you. You hadn’t really interacted with him before and were happy to find out that he was a great guy. Not that you’d doubted that before.

Garcia was the one person you had dreaded a little. Not because you didn’t want to talk to her or didn’t like her. But because this talk was bound to be the most emotional out of all of them. You decided to stop by her apartment on your way back from another outing, thinking maybe a surprise visit might make things easier. Boy had you been wrong. Waiting for Garcia to open the door after ringing the doorbell, she froze the moment she’d opened the door and realized who was standing in front of her. You were sure she’d tried her best to keep her emotions in check, but she failed miserably.

“Oh God, Y/N?”, she’d greeted you, staring at you like she’d never seen you before. You had smiled at her a little awkwardly and uttered a joking “surprise!”, before she reacted, asking you if she could hug you which you gladly granted. You hadn’t quite expected her to start crying at that. Even though in retrospect you should have. No sooner had some of her tears spilled over did she start to apologise. You let her get everything out before gently asking her to slow down a little.

“God, I’m so sorry. I promised myself not to cry, I don’t want to guilt trip you or anything. Really! I’m just so glad to see you.” You did reassure her that it was alright before both of you settled down to talk about the misunderstandings and everything that had happened.

“I know we were all pretty blind and everything. But I promise that we did want to have you there. I even photoshopped you into some of the pictures we took because it felt like they were missing something without you. The team isn’t really the team without you, Y/N.” And damn, as ridiculous as it sounded, your heart felt warmed at her words. The fact that there were photoshopped pictures of those outings having you in them made it very clear that you had been wanted there. Garcia even showed you a few. And while it hurt a little to see the pictures of your team grinning at the camera without you having been there with them, you were quite impressed by Garcia’s photoshop skills. Not surprised though.

---

After the talk with Garcia you did feel ready to make your final decision. You were pretty sure already but decided to sleep on it another night. Once you had decided you texted Garcia to ask if the team was on a case and were relived to hear that they actually had two off days lined up. Now that you had made up your mind you wanted to inform Hotch as soon as possible.

Hotch had been very sweet those past days, for lack of better words. He had stayed in contact with you, checking up on you and how you were feeling regularly. You’d always informed him if you met up with any member of the team, feeling like he should know that it was part of your decision process. He had been supportive of that, letting you know off days or when the team was on a case so you could plan the meetings as well as possible.

It felt weird to stand in front of his door now, though. You hadn’t been here before and doubted your decision a little. Maybe you should have waited and planned on going to the office to tell him. Now that you were already here though, you felt stupid to just leave again. You could hear a child laughing through the open window, presumably Jack, whom you hadn’t met yet either, as well as Hotch’s deep voice. Taking a deep breath you rang the doorbell, expecting your boss to open the door. In front of you stood a young boy, however. You smiled at him.

“Are you Miss Y/N?”, he asked curiously.

“I am!”, you smiled at him. “I guess you have to be Jack then? How did you know it was me?”

Jack nodded vigorously, leaning closer to you as if to tell you a secret.

“I saw you standing outside and asked Daddy who you were”, he told you very seriously which made you laugh.

“Won’t you let our guest in, buddy?”, you heard Hotch’s voice coming closer. Jack grinned and moved back to let you step in before closing the door.

“Hi Hotch”, you smiled at the man moving towards the two of you. He was wearing casual clothes again which made absolute sense, but you were so used to seeing him wearing suits that you were still taken aback a little. If anyone had asked you three weeks ago if Hotch even owned Jeans, you would have laughed and answered with a very definite no.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N. Do come in. We were just making Breakfast in case you haven’t eaten yet.”

“I haven’t”, you acknowledged and followed him into an open living room.

“Make yourself comfortable. Pancakes are done in a few minutes.” Jack climbed up on the couch to sit beside you once you had settles.

“Daddy makes the best pancakes!”, he informed you happily.

“I see, I am in good hands then!” Jack nodded in agreement before moving on the book sat beside him, which he had apparently discarded to open the door. It was about snakes.

“Did you know that Snakes smell with their tongues?”, Jack asked you suddenly. You nodded in agreement.

“Mhm. Did you know that some Snakes can sense heat which is how they know where their prey is located?” Jack stared at you wide-eyed and shook his head. You gently took the book from him, searching for a side which had a big enough picture of a Pit Viper.

“You see the two small holes in its face? They’re called pits and the snake can use those to sense heat. It’s how they know where to attack in the dark. They can also hear vibrations in their jaw bones. They can’t hear the way we do. They use a bone attached to their jaw called a quadrate to sense vibrations, which is also how they can locate anything that moves.”

Hotch chose that moment to come back with a huge stack of pancakes that he placed on the dinner table which was already set for three people. Seems like you might have stood outside far longer that you thought you had.

“You know a lot about snakes”, he stated while moving around to get some orange juice. Domestic Life definitely suited him.

“I do. I used to have snakes for most my life. They’re pretty cool.”

“Do you still have one?”, Jack asked excitedly which made you laugh.

“I do. I have a small Rosy Boa called Daisy. She’s quite a docile girl. Maybe I can introduce you one day.”

You looked up to find Hotch quietly laughing, raising an eyebrow in question.

“You called your snake Daisy?”

“Sure. I’ve always named my snakes after flowers. Not gonna change that tradition until I run out of names.”

Having won Jack over by simply liking snakes, Breakfast was a lively affair. You knew that Hotch was a good dad, you’d never doubted it. It showed in the way he always made sure to call his son while on cases and the fact that he often felt like he didn’t do enough. It was a little weird to witness the domestic scenes, still. It was a harsh contrast to the person Hotch was at the office. You weren’t about to complain though. It was a refreshing change, and you were glad that Hotch felt comfortable sharing that side of him with you.

It was after Breakfast that Jessica swung by to pick Jack up for a play date with another friend, which later turned out to be Henry. You were pretty sure that it was a spontaneous meet up which Hotch had organised after seeing you standing in front of his door. Before leaving jack came over to give you a hug and say goodbye, but not before telling you that he hoped that you stayed on his dad’s team because you made it better. When you just stared at him confused, he grinned at you.

“Don’t worry, Miss Y/N, Daddy didn’t tell me to say that to you. I just listen when Daddy talks about work and you sound like you made the team a better place. He still has the mug you gave him for his birthday last year (which had a corny joke about grumpy pants on it) and he often said that you brought the team breakfast.”

“Thank you, Jack”, you answered, still stunned. You hadn’t expected a child to be so insightful. Then again it was Hotch’s child, maybe you should have expected it. You settled back on the couch while Hotch saw his son off, taking note of the memorabilia in the room as well as the array of toys and children books.

“So, I take it that you’ve made a final decision?”, Hotch asked as he was moving back towards you, holding two cups of coffee in his hands.

You just nodded and gratefully took the offered mug, turning slightly more towards Hotch who was studying you closely.

“I know that I already said it at Rossi’s, but I’d like to apologize again. We were blind when we absolutely shouldn’t have been. In our job we see how people hurt each other every day, we look for any sings, clues or behaviours that validate our thesis. We should have noticed them in one of our own sooner, even though there shouldn’t have been any reason for you to feel the way you felt, at all. I’m sure that each member of the team has already said it, but there really is no excuse for how we acted.” Hotch’s voice, while barely ever aggressive when not talking to an unsub or a suspect, was positively gentle and soft. No sign of the usually stern edge to his voice, no glare, no frown. By now you were pretty sure that the Hotch at work was just a persona he put on to shield the team from any possible harm.

“I do accept your apology, Hotch. What you said at Rossi’s about me feeling the way I felt about the situation has really helped me deal with the whole process. I felt a little ridiculous at first, but I now can accept that it was a misunderstanding. You’re also right. We all should have noticed sooner and communicated with each other better”, Hotch nodded along, his head tilted in question though, which made you smile. “I say we, because I am aware that I could have said something sooner. Communication is a two-way street after all.” At that Hotch was about to interrupt you, but you gently shushed him by grabbing his hand.

“I know that no one of you had any ill intend. And I am pretty sure that we can all work through the situation at hand. That doesn’t mean I don’t expect a fancy coffee as a welcome when I come back to work next week.” It took him a few moments to process what you had said, but once he did a delighted smile appeared on his face, one which you’d never seen before. You did like it though. Hotch was your Boss, but you would acknowledge that he was indeed attractive any day. The smile made him seem years younger and he was positively glowing, looking more than handsome. You grinned back at him. His hand, that you were still holding, gently squeezed yours and he leaned closer towards you.

“I am really glad to hear that, Y/N. I will personally make sure that any coffee wishes will be fulfilled. It’s the least we can do. The bullpen really hasn’t been the same without you.”

“What do you mean?” You were pretty sure that your impact at work had been minimal at best. After all, the bullpen was loud, noisy and chaotic and you usually didn’t participate in any of the shenanigans.

“Let’s see… Derek has noticed that the spoiled food from the common use kitchen area didn’t magically disappear anymore. He even questioned the cleaning lady about it and asked if that was part of her usual tasks. Which, of course, it wasn’t. Several team members have also found that their favourite coffee creamers aren’t actually part of the company’s provided products. Rossi has found that he doesn’t receive assorted files of interesting crime reports and difficult crossword puzzles anymore and Derek has found that all his mugs don’t just clean themselves. Garcia was very bereft when she found out that no one of the other girls had given her clippings showing the most colourful clothes of the season and the amount of times Emily had a breakdown over her printer not working over the last two weeks is simply astounding. JJ no longer has pre-sorted files on her desk and Reid doesn’t receive random book recommendations or interesting news articles on some obscure scientific subject anymore. And my own piles of cases have mysteriously grown without the workload changing and are no longer sorted. Just as I have found out that I apparently didn’t just forget that I had hung up Jack’s drawings in my office almost all the time when I noticed that I don’t even have the little magnets used for the board. And the only constant that has changed over the past few weeks is you not being in the office, Y/N. So you see, you made quite an impact without anyone, including yourself, noticing. You made the place feel friendlier and just so much warmer, that we all felt quite bereft. Not just because things were suddenly different, but because we saw how much you did for us and how little we gave you in return.”

You couldn’t help but stare at Hotch while he was stating all that in his usual matter of fact kind of way. You were feeling so many emotions at once that it was difficult to grasp one to concentrate on. Your mouth was opening and closing, oddly reminiscent to the situation at Rossi’s dinner. But this time you didn’t feel absolute dread curse through your body, of that you were sure at least. You felt warm and fuzzy and a sense of disbelieve that finally someone had noticed all the small things you did. You had never been the best with showing that you cared, always trying to show it through small acts of service that would make someone else’s day a little brighter or a task a little less daunting.

“I’ve made you cry again”, Hotch muttered softly, pulling you closer towards him. Only then did you notice that you were indeed crying. Twice in a row. In front of your Boss. You couldn’t help yourself though, and moved even closer, wrapping your arms around his waist, and squeezing him.

“Thank you”, you said quietly through your tears.

“Are you thanking me for making you cry?” An incredulous laugh escaped his lips at the situation, and you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m thanking you because no one really noticed those things before. Even though the situation might not be ideal, you did notice. It’s always been my way of showing that I care but it usually gets overlocked in everyday life.” You felt how Hotch’s arms pulled you closer towards him before he settled against the back of the couch, one hand running through your hair and the other one rubbing soothing circles on your arm.

“I don’t really think we deserve you, but I’m glad you decided to stay on the team.” His voice was quiet, but he had rested his cheek against your hair, so you could hear him perfectly fine.

”Me as well”, you responded just a quietly. And you really were. You couldn’t wait to start over with everyone and to move on from this whole mess. You felt your body relaxing against Hotch’s warmth, enjoying the feeling of safety and being cared for. It wasn’t exactly what you had expected from Hotch when all of this started, but maybe you shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, he was the one always making little jokes to see other’s smile or offered encouragement and help if anyone on the team needed it – no questions asked. One of his hands moved to cup your cheek, carefully turning your face to look at him.

“I promise that things will change once you’re back. Well do our best to make up for our mistakes and to make sure you’ll always feel like a wanted and needed, valuable member of our team. I promise, I’ll do better.” The last part of the sentence stuck with you. Of course he would feel responsible for the entire situation.

“I know you will, Hotch. I trust you.”

You could feel how his own body relaxed at your words and felt content with the knowledge that you had eased his mind a little. You snuggled back against his side, closing your eyes and taking the feeling of contentment in. His arms wrapped tighter around you and his chin came back to rest on top of your head. Had anyone told you four weeks ago that you would end up on Hotch’s couch and snuggled into his side, you would have laughed at them. Now though, you would hardly trade that place for anything.

---

On your first day back at the BAU everyone was shocked to see you. You had made Hotch promise not to tell them anything. Still, you found a steaming cup your favourite coffee as well as a bagel from your favourite bakery on you desk. Looking up, you smiled at Hotch who had remembered the little demand you had made in jest the other day. What really made your heart melt though was a colourful self-made welcome back card from Jack, which you found once you opened one of your drawers.

The team welcomed you back with open arms and hugs, and maybe a few tears on Garcia’s part. You were surprised that you seamlessly fit into the dynamics after everything that had happened. The first few weeks you were cautious, expecting to find out that there were meet ups you hadn’t been invited to or to see random new photos of the group with everyone except for you. It didn’t happen though. Instead you found yourself sitting in-between your colleagues and friends at team dinners in Rossi’s living room or garden every month, as well as some of the weirdest Bars and Clubs you’d ever seen on a semi-regular basis. Every other week you and Rossi met up for private dinners, mostly consisting of his Nonna’s receipts – some of which he’d even taught you. Those nights were a safe-heaven for you, having found a father-like figure in your friend. When there was enough time or pent up frustrations, you found yourself at one of Derek’s construction sides to help him out and learning loads of new things from him. Both of you had constructed the perfect library in your little home in no time, a room Spencer was frequently found in now. Somehow, you weren’t quite sure how it had happened, you found yourself a part of Derek’s and Garcia’s pre-established movie nights as well, finding out that Derek didn’t just like Disney films but was a sucker for Rom-Coms. Emily, JJ and Garcia had also roped you into joining their shopping and spa days. While you could get behind the spa part, shopping really wasn’t something you considered fun. The girls made it bearable though and the promise of after-shopping-drinks kept you joining most of the time. The number of conventions you had visited with Spencer was way too high, but you didn’t really care. Derek was suffering under it, since you also had joined his and Spencer’s film nights. With you in the picture and mostly on Spencer’s side when it came to film choices, his try to teach Spencer pop culture was for naught. Emily, who secretly was a foodie, had introduced you to a ton of new restaurants and dishes as well as renowned night clubs you’d never set a foot in otherwise and jazz bars you adored. You also spent a lot of time with Hotch and Jack, introducing them to Daisy and joining them on day trips to the zoo or the aquarium as well as joining his weekend soccer matches with the rest of the team. Every now and then while on a case, you found yourself enjoying a glass of scotch with Hotch in privacy, talking about Jack or any other subject that came to your minds.

For one miserable year you had felt like you were on a never-ending treasure hunt, searching for a place to call your home. Searching for a place to feel safe and to feel warm. It had been draining to pretend that you belonged within the team, to pretend to like and understand what they were saying. You had asked yourself where you belonged every day. And you finally had found a solid answer.

---

“When you get to a place where you understand that love and belonging, your worthiness, is a birthright and not something you have to earn, anything is possible.” Brene Brown

---

Sei un raggio di sole  – You are a ray of sunshine

Puffetta - Smurfette

Gioia  – joy

passerotto/a – “sparrow”, usually exclusive to girls

Dolcezza - sweetness

caro mio/cara – My Dear

Bellissimo/a - gorgeous

---

Thank you so much for all your lovely comments! I have to admit that you might have made me cry a little with all your kind words and appreciation. Thank you for waiting so patiently for part 3, I know that it took me ages to write… Life just really got in the way of things. I had to shorten it a little and cut the lengthier parts about the meetings with Emily, JJ and Garcia. I might post them as an excerpt one of these days. I really like the parts dealing with Rossi, Derek and Hotch. With the rest I’m a bit unsure, but I didn’t want to keep you waiting. Part 4 is going to be the alternative ending in which the reader leaves the team.

I hope you enjoyed part 3!

----

Taglist (I hope I got everyone that asked to be tagged. If not, please let me know):

@measure-in-pain @yourfavoritefangirl @dollylolitasworld @abbeyskeff @stupidassgryffindor @lovurryy @mojo366 @fruittiest-of-loops @softieekayy @fandomalert31

@the-person-in-the-circle @no-soy-fer @theodorereaken @beeblisss @wishfulwithwine @champagneneen @strangunddurm @crocodilefeet2707 @elleclairez @ilovewomeen

@snakequeen13 @lolilkkk @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @daddy-jareau @unlikelyfurywolf @adhdannieedison @thelittlecatalex @mess-is-my-aesthetic @superskittles @sj22071s

@elleisalwayssleepy @noisy-head @marauderssimpcuzwhytfnot @shesoperfectt @feltonswifesworld87 @kakashis-formal-simp @yourfavunsub @lokigirlszendaya @sophiaj650 @venomsvl

@himboelover @multi-fandom-imagines @kingjuli3n @maybeblakeley @sayukoi @gojutsu @my-beel @users09 @buckysmainhxe @fandom-has-taken-me-hostage

@heyhowareyaxd @lokisnumber1whore @lightjoh @sebastiansstanswhore @stcrrjoon @shamelessfangirl-3

[soohiefan13]

better? (momokarun) short fic!

notes: 1.7k

warning: depressive behaviors

⍣ ೋ

at this point, it had been six agonizingly slow days-- for both momo and ken. he had gone a full week without seeing his best friend at school, and since he had no way of contacting her (since her phone was blown to bits, and she can never seem to get her hands on a new one), he was left with no other choice than to go to her house.

and he did... everyday. but momo refused to let him see her in her state. laying in her bed, deepening the "momo-shaped" crater she was creating in her mattress. body stiff from laying there so long, only getting up one or two times a day to use the restroom and stand in the kitchen, hungry, but ultimately deciding against eating. she hadn't bathed or even changed clothes for the past week. momo knew it was gross and she hated herself for it; her pathetic behavior. but she just couldn't bring herself to get up and do something about it. her grandma would knock on her door and bring her a snack every once in a while.

"hey, kid. brought you a little something. eat your fill." her grandma would say, and trade out a plate of food momo didn't eat hours before for a fresh plate of food, which would end up sitting there for hours.

it was raining when ken began his walk to momo's from the corner store. he went in and bought some of momo's favorite treats, trying to build up the courage to visit her again. he prayed she wouldn't turn him away this time. when he finished paying for his items, he looked out the large store windows and sighed deeply. he didn't bring an umbrella.

when he knocked on momo's front door, he expected her grandma to open up abruptly, but instead ken stood there for almost ten minutes. he tried to peer through any windows and see if there was anyone home, but the house was completely empty.

did her grandma finally get momo to leave the house? god, I hope so.

but as ken looked down, he noticed a flower pot that he didn't recognize. curious, the boy crouched down and picked it up. clanking against the concrete porch, fell a house key which had a little note attached to it.

hey four-eyes, unfortunately I had to make a quick trip out of town, but momo is still up in her room. counting on you, kid.

another big sigh blew past ken's lips, as he unlocked the door and let himself in.

he carefully took off his shoes, as if he really were sneaking into someone's home. maybe he just didn't want to frighten miss ayase. he stood there for a moment, staring at the stairs. momo's grandma wasn't there to ask her if it was okay that ken came upstairs and saw her. now, he could just go upstairs himself and open her door on his own. but was that okay? was it decent for a boy to just barge into a girl's room after she had been shunning him away for a week?

at this point, ken didn't care too much for decency. his care for momo overruled everything.

that's why he was at her bedroom door. he took a deep breath and pushed the door open, softly, so as to not frighten her.

her room was surprisingly clean and tidy. he assumed her grandma did that for her while she was sleeping. it was mainly her nightstand that was the mess. scattered books on yokai and aliens. a collection of empty soda cans and a few snack wrappers. a bottle of sleeping pills. and a tv remote. he glanced over to the television. there was an old sci-fi film playing, quietly, almost inaudible over the rain. ken sat down the damp, plastic bag of treats and took a moment, before making his way to the blanketed figure in bed. he stared at her, watching in relief as her figure rose and fell, snoring softly. he didn't really think she wouldn't be breathing, but there was a fear, way deep down. he reached out for her. should he say something? should he shake her awake or would that be too aggressive? unable to decide, he sat down on the empty space on her bed.

surprisingly, this woke momo up. her eyes opened, still groggy with sleep. she knew someone was in the room with her, sitting at the end of her bed. she also knew that if it was her grandma, she would have made herself known. anxiously, she tried to look around as much as possible without moving her body. in the reflection of her window, she saw the familiar back of her best friend. for a moment, she was so glad to see him. then, she was humiliated and petrified with fear.

"okarun..." she choked out, her throat dry from having just woken up. she felt the boy shoot up off of her bed, gasping in surprise.

"miss ayase! I apologize for letting myself in-- but i've just been so worried about you, I didn't know what else to do."

she grimaced. she hated herself even more for worrying him like this. "it's okay, okarun. um... could you just stand over there, and face the wall. I need to get up and i'm... not wearing any pants..."

the sound of ken slapping his hands over his eyes, followed by him scurrying to the corner brought momo a tiny bit of amusement.

slowly, she uncovered herself and rolled over. she sat up in bed, feet hovering over the floor. after a moment, she let her feet touch the cold floor. then she stood up. but in the same moment, she collapsed. the pain of hunger mixed with the weakness in her body from laying down for so long made her unable to stand. ken whipped around, completely disregarding momo's requests. he crouched down next to her, worry taking him over once more.

"miss ayase! are you alright? here, let me-"

she swatted his hand away, frustrated that he was seeing her so pathetic. "okarun! what did I say... stay over there!" she started to push herself up, but collapsed again. ken stared at her figure. she had lost weight and her skin was pale. her hair was dull and her whole body shook. he couldn't help himself. he scooped her up and carried her to her bathroom. he sat her on the floor, her back up against the shower door. momo grumbled, attempting to swat him away again but to no avail. she felt a cool, damp rag press against her forehead. a defeated sigh spilled past her lips.

ken started by brushing her hair. then he helped her brush her teeth. he rinsed off her face, resisting the urge to plant a kiss on her freshly cleaned forehead. he massaged her muscles, hoping her body would feel up to standing. sure enough, she did. he brought her a fresh change of clothes. she stood against the bathroom counter, staring at him as he walked over to her. he smiled at her.

"I'm glad you're feeling better..." he sat the clothes down next to her. momo just stared up at him. "do you want me to leave?"

momo blinked. "no! stay! i need to take a shower!" she blurted out. ken's face went red and he squeaked. momo shoved her face in her hands, covering her own flushed expression. "I mean-- stay in the house. I'll be back out in, like, ten minutes. I just need to clean up."

ken sighed and nodded. "in that case, is it okay if I wash your bed linens for you while I wait?"

it took over fiber of momo's being to not melt into a puddle of tears. she turned ken around, hiding her face again. "yes!" she yelped. "that's... real sweet of you okarun." she sniffled. "thank you..."

so, ken did just that. as soon as momo closed the bathroom door, he started stripping her bed. he carried the bed linens down stairs, careful not to trip. he took it up on himself to use the best-smelling laundry detergent they had, as well as a fabric softener. he wanted to completely clean this experience from momo's memory.

after a little while, momo slowly came downstairs, the view of ken sitting on the couch coming into her view. she smiled. ken turned to look her, then stood up.

"better?" he asked.

this time, momo couldn't hold back the tears. she stumbled over to him, toppling him back onto the couch. she gripped him tight, crying into his tee shirt. ken hugged her back, easing the both of them up into a sitting position. it was quiet for a moment, at least for ken. all momo could hear was his rapid heartbeat against her ear. she sniffled, looking up at ken with wet eyes.

"yea. I feel much better..." her eyes darted away from his. "but can I ask you for one more favor."

"anything, miss ayase." ken answered almost immediately, his eyes never leaving hers.

momo didn't say anything. she just looked back up at him, her face visibly warming up. ken bored his eyes into hers, heart beating faster. momo's heart was beating fast, too. her eyes flickered down to his lips and that was all it took.

ken pressed his lips against hers swiftly, but oh so softly. his brows furrowed and his hands seemed to melt into the small of her back. momo held the boy's face in her hands, screwing her eyes shut. he pulled her impossibly closer, letting out a sigh as momo made her way into his lap. her hands crept around to the nape of his neck, using her nails to softly scratch against the undercut she never admitted to adoring. another sign from ken.

then momo pulled away, planting kisses all over his face. ken leaned back, never letting her go.

"i love you, miss ayase." he breathed out, staring at the ceiling. the confession had his heart beating faster than he thought was humanly possible.

"yea... you, too." momo said simply. ken sat up to look at her. for some reason, he was surprised. she just scooted over, sitting on the couch, with her legs in his lap. she turned on the TV and started clicking through channels. "you in the mood for a sci-fi movie?" she asked.

"yea." ken answered, rubbing his thumb over her ankle.

"oh, and thank you... ken." momo said, not looking at him. a blush covered her fresh face.

"anything for you, miss ayase."

the low rumble of the washing machine seemed to wash the sound of rain away.

⍣ ೋ

[mazeofyeni]

⭕. !!: ° ... FANTUBE : KEIKO AND WONBIN CUTE MOMENTS !! ‧ ₊˚

「 keiko's masterlist 𖹭 」

↺ |◁ II ▷| ♡ | INTRO. some cute wonko moments because they've been on one lately 🫠 ... LETS GO !

𓈃⠀⠀🎞️ ๋ ㅤCLIP ONE⠀⠀峠

"today i did my own hair and makeup today for the stage today" *:⁠-]* *a wild wonbin appears* "it looks like you did it." *confused keiko 🫤* "are you insulting me right now" *scared wonbin* "wait no that came out wrong." *not trying to die 😭* "then say it right quickly." "it looks cute , you look pretty." *smiley keiko🤭* "thank you." "why are you so scary." *so focused on her face* "yah why are you looking at me , am i that pretty?" *flirty bin activated* "yeah what about it?" *shocked ko* "y-yah" *his laugh knowing he got her flustered* "cute" *😭😭😭😭*

𓈃⠀⠀🎞️ ๋ ㅤCLIP TWO⠀⠀峠

*warning this one is a little 🔥* *wonbin and his wandering eye 👀* *behind the scenes of memories* "i have to jump into the lake, i have a bathing suit on under here , when it's time , i'll take this off , not right now." *time for the scene* *she only takes her top off* "ready?" *thumbs up* "let's go!" *while waiting for the go* *wonbin on the other side* *we see you wonbin you're not slick 🤭* *taro see's it to* *slaps the boy😭* "what are you look at?" *wonbin smirking, he knows what he was looking at 😭🤭* "nothing." *liar but okay 👍🏻*

𓈃⠀⠀🎞️ ๋ ㅤCLIP THREE⠀⠀峠

*wonbin trying to be mysterious* "binnie-ah!" *ignoring her , still trying to be mysterious* *confused keiko cause did she suddenly stop speaking korean* "binnie-ah!" *wonbin trying not to smile* "yah!" *slaps his back😭* "why are you ignoring me" *look at the way he's smiling* "i didn't hear you." *slaps his back again😭* "how dare you lie to me!" "ow , stop it" *full on play fighting in the middle of the dance practice room , like half the room isn't watching them 😟😭* "okay , okay stop it please" *wrapping his arms around her* *look how cute they are , we get it wonko🙄 /j* "what did you want?" *resting his chin on her shoulder* *he wanna be mysterious until she comes around* "i just wanted to call you" *bites her cheek😭* "ouch , do you want to die!?" *rip wonbin*

𓈃⠀⠀🎞️ ๋ ㅤCLIP FOUR⠀⠀峠

*behind the scenes of love 119* "i have to fake cry on camera" *she says with the evilest smile known to man kind😟* "why are you smiling?" *anton is afraid* "wonbinnie-hyung." *anton doesn't know who to call in these situations* *and he appears* "they need you for your scene" *cries like she supposed to , the scene that broke briize twt even though it's fake* "why does it look so real?" *wonbin is stressed* "it's not real" *taro confused as hell right now 😭* *after her scene* *wonbin in action* "why did you cry so much?" *wiping her tears 😭💔* "im not really sad don't worry" "you did well , but don't ever cry like that again" *why are they so cute in public like this 🫠🥹*

𓈃⠀⠀🎞️ ๋ ㅤCLIP FIVE⠀⠀峠

*wonko and there domestic dorm life 🫶🏻* *keikos nightly routine* "im eating ramen" *it's 1 in the morning* "it's quiet because everyone is sleep , i just got in from visiting japan , i went to see my grandma" *hears a noise* "who is it?" *look at that smile i'm sick😭* "binnie-ah!" "you're back?" *his sleepy voice 🫠* "say hi" *his messy bed hair🥲* "did you have fun in japan?" "i bought you a gift" *his smile , he is NOT mysterious ✋🏻❌* "it's a necklace it's in the suitcase , i'll give it to you in the morning." "thank you keikooo" *infamous wonko hug* "i missed you." *this is so 🥺*

OUTRO. wonko shippers have so much material to go off of , but i think another ship has them beat 🤫 , tune back in soon to find out who ....

©MAZEOFYENI

[star-suh]

🎃 Red Riding Hood 🎃

mark lee x male reader

cw: top mark, implied cruising, breeding, reader's first time, reader is dom-ish sometimes, some voyeurism, rimjob, blowjob.

an: this one is not so halloween-ish and i just took the general idea of the tale, thanks to @blehhhidk for the idea of this and other two fics 🥹🫶

—

y/n a pretty boy who always wears a red cap was getting ready to visit his grandma, who was sick. "listen y/n your grandma is sick, so go the pharmacy and buy her some medicaments" says y/n's mom "and go straight to your grandma's house don't you stay out there doing nonsense" she slapped his head carefully. "ok mom" he just rolled his eyes and went to the pharmacy. in his way towards there he make eye contact with one of those 'bad boys' wearing dark clothes and smoking in the corner of a house "goodbye pretty boy" says the strange boy and y/n blushed "goodbye sexy boy" replied y/n without thinking, he felt embarrassed and walked faster meanwhile mark just laughed and decided to walk behind the cute guy. "where you going?" asked mark. "i'm going to my grandma's house. she is sick and need medicaments" replied y/n. "hmm i see… can i go with you? and make you company" asked mark to which y/n responds "sure".

between talk and talk mark discovers that y/n is a virgin and that he wanted to lose his virginity so he downloaded an app for that but it didn't work for him. "i can do you the favor. you only have to ask for it" smirked the guy while grabbing his big bulge, y/n just blushed "shut up i must get to my grandmother's quickly" he says. "where does she lives?" asked mark, "she lives in *******" replied the boy. "i know a shortcut, through the forest" commented mark, "you mean that forest? as in the forest that is near lord seonghwa's castle… that alleged vampire?" he whispered that last part while watching to all directions "yeah let's go" mark grabbed y/n by the hand and they run towards the forest.

they were walking until suddenly they hear moans and grunts, carefully they walked to see what was happening and there we are, two people fucking, one has pink hair and the other brown hair, in the forest, in plain sight. "fuck that's hot" says mark while a tent is forming on his pants and the same happening in y/n's. "i might accept your offer" says y/n to mark who looked at him surprised "let's go" it's the only thing mark said taking y/n with him.

now, in mark's house, more exactly his bed, was he eating y/n out, his tongue exploring y/n's insides while saliva was surrounding y/n's virginal entrance "so fucking good" moaned mark while y/n was biting the sheets holding back his moans. minutes later y/n's hole was already dilated to receive mark's thick piece of meat, but first y/n wanted to suck it and have it in his mouth. "suck it like it's a lollipop" mark says slapping his cock in y/n's mouth. the bottom obeyed and gave his everything to make mark feel good "yes just like that" whispered mark emitting a quiet moan. y/n was loving the burning feeling of mark stretching his virginal ass "i want more of this" begged y/n, "don't worry you would have this and more from now on" grunted mark while leaving his cock without moving it so that y/n would get used to the feeling.

minutes passed and y/n wanted more sex with mark, he's like a insatiable whore now, his cock bouncing while riding mark's "yes yes i love this" said the greedy bottom fucking himself hard on mark's rod "hold on, go… easy. y-you are being such a slut" growled the man feeling so satisfied by y/n's tight hole. now mark grabbed y/n's legs and pushed them back towards his torso and started to thrust hard "i'm gonna pump you full of my kids. until it's slipping down your hole for how full you are. you hear me?" mark asked and y/n just nodded "yes yes fuck me. fill me up" begged the little slut. y/n's was now riding mark with his back facing mark, he started to move his ass gently ass if he was massaging mark's cock "i'm gonna milk you dry markie" smirked the bottom "this cum is all for me" he moves front and back eager to get mark's seed inside him. hours have passed now, mark was impressed by how mich stamina y/n has and how slutty he turned out to be, the bed was wet for all the sweat and the windows were foggy, it looked like a sauna. "i'm gonna cum~" growled the top, he stilled his throbbing cock inside y/n's ass emptying all his balls while y/n did the same spilling his seed on mark's sheets both feel exhausted and they were gonna sleep together until a thought crossed y/n's mind "GRANDMAA!!!" he yelled and went quickly to get dressed and go to his grandma's house, "wait" screamed mark but it was too late y/n was already out of his house….

y/n was scolded by his mom and he promised he would never take another path to go to his grandma's house, but that's a lie... he would always take the forest shortcut to meet with mark and fuck there, returning to his home full of mark's milk that is like an everyday meal for him. "hey! red cap boy wanna ride" asked an smiling mark who was leaning on a tree and y/n just licked his lips "yeah"...

[knifedancer]

Unsigned Gifts

Marinette has a secret admirer that keeps giving her really thoughtful gifts with no signature. But who is it?

OR

The five times Marinette received unsigned gifts and the one time she guessed who all the gifts were from.

AO3 Link

~~~First~~~

It all started one day when Lila and her lackeys broke her favorite marking pens. Not that she had any proof, except for the cruel light in Lila’s eyes and the way certain classmates weren’t meeting her eye – and hiding their hands in their laps – as she discovered the mess near the back of the classroom. Marinette had returned to the classroom after lunch and found the set of marking pens that her grandmother given her snapped in half, their vibrant inks smeared into a grotesque brown all over her desk surface. Luckily it wasn’t the whole set, but her favorite colors were in her bookbag for work on a commission… The bluenette hid her glistening eyes, not allowing a single tear to escape, as she began to wipe what she could from the desk. Her only response a silent nod when Madam Bustier, whom assumed it was not caused by someone else, told her that she needed to stay after school to make sure it was properly clean.

Honestly, she was glad to be alone after the last bell rang. The room was empty and silent except for the ticking clock on the wall. It gave her some private moments to let out those tears that she kept hidden – she would never let anyone see her cry from their bullying attempts – while she mindlessly went through the movements of scrubbing the tabletop. The gentle rasping sounds of the cloth against a hard surface and the familiar circular motions, long ingrained from cleaning parts of the bakery, gave the pigtailed girl a sense of Zen. It was oddly calming for all the emotions she had bottled up inside her earlier; at least she would not be visited by an akuma today. When she was finally done, she gathered up the empty cleanser bottle, dirty rags, and mangled pens to dump in the garbage near the teacher’s desk. Marinette gave one last sorrowful look at the pens, recalling all of the designs she had illustrated with them and the joy she had felt receiving them from Grandma Gina… On the bright side, they had not found her precious sketchpad to ruin. The designer wiped her damp cheeks with her jacket sleeve before dropping the pens into the can with a sigh. She trudged out of the class and down the steps, completely missing a pair of calculating eyes that watched her from the shadows…

~~

At the end of the next day, Marinette found a brand-new set of expensive Copic Marking Pens and five Bosco Wood pencils tucked into a simple pink ribbon bow on top in her locker, no note was attached. She looked around, feeling eyes watching her but not seeing anyone standing out in the crowd of random students gathering their things and chatting with friends. She reverently touched the beautiful clear case and hugged it to her chest, a small genuine smile gracing her features as she imagined all the stunning designs she would make, before tucking them safely into her bookbag. Perhaps one of her classmates felt bad for what happened and wanted to remain anonymous for fear of Lila? Whatever the case, these would be safer in her room.

~~~Second~~~

A few days later, Marinette sat at one of the tables in the library during lunch, off in her own world with her headphones playing the latest Jagged Stone single just loud enough for her to block out any passing sounds but low enough not to disturb others. She found it easier to focus on her work not surrounded by her former friends and the kindly librarian allowed her to eat at the tables so long as she didn’t make a mess. Today the designer was working on a dress for Clara Nightingale’s next award show appearance. The overall look was done but the colors… She tapped the end of her new oak pencil against her lips as she contemplated. The margins on the page were filled with tiny smudges of carefully erased notes. She pulled out her phone, looking through various Pantone color chip options through Qwant. Unfortunately, like with all electronics, the inherent settings and hardware capabilities altered the tones just slightly – making the decision even harder.

“I wish I could afford those Pantone Color chips…it would make it so much easier to choose,” Marinette murmured to herself with a sigh. “Perhaps I can buy one with the money Maman’s family will send me for New Year but that’s still months away...”

The five-minute warning bell signifying the end of lunch rang, pulling her from her thoughts. The girl packed her sketchbook and headphones away before sweeping any remaining crumbs and rubber shavings into her empty lunch containers, then headed off to class without a second thought to the other students meandering through the book stacks or lining up to check out something last minute. Her mind was elsewhere, dreaming of which colors would combine best to fit Clara’s style and still wow people on the red carpet, when she knocked into something solid. Marinette’s elbow was caught in a firm grip before she fell backward, finding herself hauled up against a familiar grey vest.

“Hello Angel, did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?” came the smug voice of the other blond boy in her class. Just great. She righted herself with a scoff, rolling her eyes at his ridiculous pick-up line while brushing imaginary wrinkles from her blazer. She knew he was only doing it to get a rise out of her but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of losing her temper.

“Not as much as when they kicked you out of hell, Felix,” she replied sweetly as she pulled away.

“Are you saying I’m hot?” he asked with a predatory grin.

“You’re about as hot as a dumpster on fire and only half as pleasant!” Marinette sing-songed before quickly brushing by him and walked back towards class, missing the playful look on his face as he followed her at a respectable distance. She settled into her seat with a huff, zoning out while Madam Bustier droned on about the Revolution, the girl’s mind lost in the details for Clara’s dress once again.

~~

The next gift unexpectedly appeared at lunch the next day. The librarian called her over and presented a small parcel wrapped in pink striped paper. “This is for you, dear.”

“What? Who…,” began the confused bluenette. She spied a small, unsigned tag with her name on it taped to the top. The tag itself was not handwritten, instead seemed to have been made on a typewriter. Who, besides her Grandpa Roland, even owned one of those anymore?

“Sorry but I don’t have any idea. It was left here with just your name printed on the card while I was busy with a phone call. Seems you have an admirer, dear!” chuckled the librarian as she patted the girl on the shoulder, then went back to sorting a stack of returns for reshelving.

Marinette settled the parcel on her usual table, carefully unwrapping to preserve the lovely paper for another of her crafting projects. She pulled off the lid of the plain white box and unfolded the tissue paper inside – her breath caught in her throat. Inside were four Pantone Color Guide fans for fashion and home design, each with 350 different swatches, in every shade of the rainbow. Her fingers trembled as she lifted one from the safety of its tissue bed, fanning it open with a look of awe. Who had done this? First the pens, now this… She was overwhelmed with happiness and gratitude, her face lighting up with palpable joy as her mind buzzed with questions and plans.

‘I need to take these home, immediately!’ she thought, returning the Pantone guide back to the same spot she had pulled it from. She closed the box and pressed it to her chest as she quickly departed from the library, barely preventing herself from bumping into a student that was about to depart through the doorway. She threw a quick “sorry!” over her shoulder as she ran, only catching a blur of gold hair in her periphery as she exited the school.

~~~Third~~~

A couple weeks later, after the commission for Clara was done, Marinette found herself with some free time on the weekend. Time to find a nice spot to draw! She had planned to wander through the park near her house, but discovered Adrien was doing a photoshoot with Lila. She rolled her eyes and wrinkled her nose as if she smelled something rotten.  Not that she didn’t still enjoy watching Adrien’s photoshoots – on the contrary, it was fun to see the modeling process and clothes – but the motivation had changed. She had found her feelings for the model fading as time went on; eventually she accepted that it was a temporary obsession rather than love that she felt. Being around him wasn’t as awkward as she expected but she preferred to avoid being around Lila – which meant not hanging out with Adrien as much as he was constantly around her due to his father’s wishes.

She hummed softly and turned on her heel, deciding to seek out another spot that might inspire her. The pigtailed girl wandered along the Siene, giving a friendly wave to Andre the ice cream vendor as she passed and enjoying the light breeze against her cheeks. She decided her time would be best spent at the Luxembourg Gardens – it had been a while since she had visited. Marinette took a deep breath as she meandered along the sunlight paths, surrounded by trees and flowers, the calming effect of the garden and architecture washing over the secret bug-themed heroine with each step. She found a bench near one of the buildings that caught her eye, settling down with one of her drawing pencils and losing herself to the sketching of various designs that began to form in her head. A few gowns inspired by flowers and the stream nearby, jackets and hats noted with colors of the various leaves overhead, but what appeared the most on the pages were men’s three-piece suits with embroidered vests… Marinette paused, gazing at the newest vest she had drawn. Deep twilight blue, bordering on black; with barely imperceptible golden and green abstract detailing that was vaguely reminiscent of peacock feathers.

It reminded her of Felix for some reason – not just the vest itself but the stylization she had added. She glanced up to the building again, taking in the architecture with a discerning gaze. It and part of the surrounding garden was of English design, merging in with the French touches seamlessly. Adrien’s cousin was from London, perhaps that was why it reminded her so much of him… She dropped her gaze back down to the page, her eyes widening as she realized she was unconsciously doodling Felix’s face and shoulders into the vest she had created. It was rough but the sketch – hair, jawline, and the beginning curve of a grin – was distinctively him. Marinette’s cheeks pinked at the realization, hurriedly attempted to flip the page only to discover it was the last sheet. Her book would need to be replaced!

“Well,” she said as she closed and halfheartedly tucked the pad away, “looks like I’ll have to buy a new sketch pad with my allowance next Friday.” With one last look at the beautiful garden around her, she began her journey home through the afternoon crowds. Marinette failed to hear the soft plop behind her as her sketchpad fell from her bag until she was back in her room. She returned to search for it with no luck, lamenting the loss of her work but hopeful that her luck – Tikki’s really – might just bring it back to her. After all, this was why she always wrote her name and address on the inside cover. Someone must have found it and would turn it in!

At school the following Monday and Tuesday, she relegated herself to making little doodles on her notebook’s lined paper. Nothing too serious or professional – little flowers and birds that she remembered seeing at the Luxembourg Gardens, black cats chasing peacocks through a field of flowers, ladybugs on leaves cleaning their antennae or snoozing in a pollen covered pistil bed... She didn’t want to waste a great design on paper that was too thin to accept her bold pencil strokes, not to mention whatever was left would not withstand the colored marker ink without becoming an oversaturated, soggy mess. At one point Marinette caught Felix staring over her shoulder at her drawings during free period; she was so taken aback that she was at a loss for words as his green eyes met hers.

 He propped his elbow on the desk and casually rested his chin in the palm of his hand, his trademark smirk spreading across his face. “Like what you see, Princess? Take a picture, it will last longer.”

Marinette gasped at the audacity and turned away, “No, you simply reminded me of a ‘before’ picture I saw on the TV the other day.”

“Give me a chance and I’ll do more than make you gasp,” he replied close to her ear.

“I’d slap you, but I don’t want to accidentally make your face look any better,” she murmured sweetly, her eyes alight with playful mockery as she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. A tingle went up her spine as his breath tickled her ear and they seemed frozen as their gazes met, the moment only being broken by the bell. Without turning her head any further, she heard him chuckle with mirth as he sat back in his seat.

By the end of class on Tuesday, she returned home to find a thick envelope tucked into the mail slot beside their apartment entry in the alleyway. She pulled it out and found yet another typed tag on the front addressed to her. Not wanting to wait a moment longer, she ripped it open right there on the doorstep. She cried with joy when she saw the contents! Inside was her lost sketchpad tied to a brand new one, its cover a pale pink and covered in plum blossoms and irises. Marinette looked up and down the alleyway, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person that had left the envelope, but no one was there. Did she really have an admirer? She blushed as her hand traced the pattern on the cover idly. Whomever they were, they didn’t waste time with cliché gestures of flowers and chocolates… Instead, they seemed very attentive to her likes and hobbies. Every gift was centered around her designing but still found a way to incorporate a personalized touch. She had never felt so special or seen before. A warmth blossomed in her chest at the thoughtfulness this mysterious figure had shown her; this feeling leaving her floating through the rest of the week as if on cloud nine.

~~~Fourth~~~

On Thursday, Marinette sat at her table after lunch and felt something bump against her knee unexpectedly. She shifted and felt something small fall onto her knees. Trying not to look distracted in class, she brought it into her lap proper and held back a squeal as she caught a glimpse of pink striped paper. They must have stuck it to the underside of the table to avoid someone else finding it. The pigtailed girl slowly opened the wrapping, careful to keep it as silent as possible, to reveal a spool of delicate lace edging in a creamy white. She contemplated uses for it and decided she had plenty left over for a little display of appreciation…

Friday morning, she checked herself in the mirror one last time and received the nub’s up from Tikki. Marinette made her way to school and happily skipped up the steps, ignoring the looks she received – didn’t matter to her if they were in envy, anger, or judgement. Let them look! The designer had raised her hair into her Multimouse space buns but pinned small segments of lace around the base of each, giving her a Chun-Li look with her usual red ribbons trailing from each bun. She had paired the look with a red qipao top with a peplum hem, which flared slightly at her hips, over tailored black pants. She had also exchanged her usual pink purse with one covered in upcycled cream colored doilies.

Surprisingly she entered the class with a couple minutes to spare, nearly stumbling into the two blond cousins conversing at the front table. Adrien was the first to see her, his eyes slipping up to her hair as his smile turned warm and fond. “Hey Marinette! I love the new look; did you design it yourself?”

“Hey Adrien! Yeah, just haven’t had the chance to wear it before now. Felt like wearing something new today,” the designer smiled in return, giving him a little twirl. In the meantime, Felix had turned around and standing eerily silent as he stared at her. She could have sworn his ears had turned slightly pink when he finally glanced at her hair. “Cat got your tongue, Felix?” Marinette asked cheekily.

He cleared his throat before he replied. “Can I take your picture so I can show Père Noël what I want for Christmas?”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, “Don’t you know? Only good kids get presents, I’m afraid you won’t qualify.”

“Well, if I must be a Grinch, then I’d rather steal you instead,” Felix stated with a grin.

She leaned in close and dropped her voice low, her eyes taking on a dangerous glint. “I guess I should add ‘body bag’ on my list this year then, because it sounds like you’ll end up in one.” The boy seemed temporarily speechless, so she smirked with victory and headed back to her seat. Vaguely she could hear the imperceptible murmurings of the two blonds get cut off by the bell as she settled in.

Marinette felt – and ignored – Felix’s stare on the back of her head the rest of the day. If she had turned around for even a moment, she likely would have seen the rouged complexion that he was unable to tame in her presence.

~~~Fifth~~~

A week later, after a long day dodging Lila’s machinations and having to stay late to handle Class Representative tasks, Marinette was relieved to find the locker room empty. She mentally ran through the list of books she would need to complete her homework and opened the lock, the door immediately falling open due to an unbalanced package within. Her heart leaped into her chest as she took in the memorable pink stripped paper. The bluenette sat on the bench and brought the package into her lap, noting that it felt soft under the crinkling exterior. Just as she did with the Pantone Guides, she carefully removed the paper. As the last of the tape was peeled and the boundary fell away to reveal the contents, Marinette audibly gasped. There in her lap lay the most beautiful silk she had ever seen, the same shade as the vest she had sketched at the gardens!

She blushed as she thought of the drawing and the image of Felix wearing it in her mind’s eye. She shook her head to free herself from such thoughts. Knowing him, he’d probably think her designs were not worthy enough to be worn. The designer brushed her hand over the material adoringly, unfolding the fabric slightly to gauge the length. There was enough to make a few vests or a skirt or a cocktail dress… Her fingers found a card hidden within the folds and pulled it free. Her cheeks flushed crimson as she read it. Printed in the same font as the others, it simply said:

The vest will only be half as beautiful as you.

~~~Plus One~~~

Marinette spent the next few days sewing the vest and adding the detailing. It now hung on her mannequin as pictured in her sketchpad but…it didn’t feel right. Incomplete. She trudged through school, distracted by the design and what it seemed to be missing. Even Tikki couldn’t calm her or help in any way. The girl wasn’t even sure why she was so focused on it! It wasn’t like she had a way to deliver it to her admirer… she had no way to tell if it would fit him either!

The girl was so unfocused all morning that, when it finally came to be lunch time, she tripped over something on the ground unexpectedly. She groaned from the floor as she brushed her knees off and sought out what item might have caused her fall. In the middle of the walkway was a nondescript black pencil case and – if the solidness she felt through the toe of her flat was any indication – it was full of writing utensils. Marinette grabbed it as she stood up, searching for a tag or name on it to figure out whom to return it to. Nothing was on the outside except for the zipper and a smudge of dirt in the shape of her shoe print. She unzipped it and peered inside, digging her fingers around to loosen the contents. She must have jostled something too hard because pens and pencils popped from the opening and spilled onto the floor.

“Damnit, Marinette…you’re such a klutz,” she muttered as she crouched back down to collect the items, hoping nothing was damaged. She knew how important good pens were. She smiled warmly as she looked at the case, remembering the pens and pencils she had received in her first gift from her admirer…

Just then a pencil caught her eye and she froze; it couldn’t be… As if afraid it was just one of Trixx’s mirages that would evaporate when touched, she reached out slowly and picked it up. There in her hand was a Bosco pencil, exact matches to the ones she had received. Looking around the semi-busy walkway, she quickly gathered up the rest and ran down an empty hall to the supply closet she sometimes used to transform during an akuma attack. The designer knew these came as a matching set of ten and had thought it was odd that she only received five…assuming whomever the giver was that they may have kept the others. She didn’t blame them; these were expensive pencils! She pulled her own pink case out and extracted one of the Bosco pencils to compare it against.

The serial numbers matched.

Marinette gasped and fell to her knees on the floor of the closet, staring at the zippered pouch in shock. “This is…this is my admirer’s case.” She sat dumbfounded for a moment before springing back into action to search for any name that might give away their identity. However, even after emptying it of all further contents, there wasn’t a single thing with initials or contact information. The girl groaned in frustration before carefully replacing the contents and cleaning the dirt from the outside. “I’ll bring it to the office, perhaps they will report it missing to Lost & Found. They brought me back my sketchpad, it’s only fair to find a way to bring this back to them too.”

The designer opened the door and stepped back out into the hall, keeping the case snuggly held against her stomach like a precious artifact, then made her way towards the front office. As she approached, she caught a familiar voice drifting from the open doorway and into the hall, a voice that no longer held the same haughty tone but one filled with anxiety and concern.

“It’s all black with a zipper down the side. Contains several wood drawing pencils and pens which mean a lot to me. Felix Fathom, 01-XX-XX-XXXX. Did you get that?” He paused and she could hear the dulcet voice of their receptionist responding the affirmative. “Thank you. You’ll call me if you find it?” She didn’t wait to hear the answer, instead she ducked into a bathroom nearby and stared at the case as if it had grown legs.

‘Felix is my admirer…he gave me the gifts…this is his case…’ Her mind whirled as it connected the dots. All the times he had shown interest in her drawings and hobbies without calling attention to himself, the times they had bumped into each other in the library or the hallway, the pick-up lines and terms of endearment taking on a whole new meaning as she blushed… He had been there on the cusp of her periphery and paid more attention to her interests than she ever thought he might. And he sounded so worried about losing this case, which contained the matching ones to her set. Then a knowing grin crossed her face – the note cards! She recalled Adrien once mentioning that Felix’s father used to type all of his movie scripts on a typewriter. ‘He did all this…for me?’ Her heart swelled with warmth.

With a flash of brilliance, Marinette suddenly knew just how to finish her design!

But first, she needed to drop the pen pouch off at the front office.

~~

Marinette arrived early the next day and took her usual seat in the empty classroom, deciding to doodle as she waited for others to arrive. Well, one person in particular. Her nerves tingled with the impending confrontation. What if she was wrong? What if he did this as some sick joke? No. She and Tikki had talked through all those issues last night as she hand embroidered the lining with ladybugs flitting between Tudor Roses. It was folded and wrapped in her lap, covered by her jacket.

She heard the sound of his footfall in the hallway and held her breath, forcing her eyes to remain on the paper pad in front of her as she heard those footsteps falter at the doorway. Within a few moments, they restarted and walked up the aisle towards his desk before pausing next to hers. Marinette looked up and met his eyes, noticing he had already dropped his bookbag onto the ground next to his desk on the tier above hers. They were all alone, this was her chance!

“You’re here early, finally decided to be a good example, Miss Class Rep?” Damn him and that smirk!

“On the contrary, I had an important appointment to make this morning.” In one fluid movement she stood, unfolded the vest, and draped it around his shoulders like a cape before he could react.

His eyes widened as he looked down at the material swathed around his torso in awe, his eyes taking on a nervous shadow as they rose once again to her face, “You… How did…”

“You know what that’s made of don’t you?” Marinette’s voice took on a serious tone as if lecturing a student. Her fingers gently fiddled with an edge near his shoulder, pretending to assess the fabric before tucking it beneath his shirt collar. His eyes became searching, but he didn’t reply, his lips parted as if too stunned or unsure to answer.

The pigtailed girl leaned in close to his lips and whispered, “Boyfriend material.” Then closed the distance to seal it with a kiss.

~~~Author's Notes: Do I sound like I am an artist knowing these things? Because I'm not. I just research A LOT when I write. 😅

[throughthetwistedmirror]

Doughnut Queen ~ *Ruggie Bucchi*

Summary: You’re visiting Ruggie’s hometown on holiday. You’re excited to meet his grandmother and the people he grew up with. Somehow, you get roped into making doughnut for everyone?

Pairing: Ruggie Bucchi X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Oneshot

Word Count: 1641

Warning: N/A

Masterlist

Taglist: @savanaclaw1996 @goseew

You couldn’t stop the smile on your face, even though Ruggie couldn’t stop snickering at you. It wasn’t everyday that your boyfriend took you back to his hometown. Any chance you could go to the Sunset Savanna, you jumped on the opportunity.

“Are you going to stare with your mouth open like a carp the whole time?” He giggled.

“I can’t help it! The Savanna is so beautiful! I wish I could stay here forever.” You heaved a lovesick sigh.

He shook his head, his fingers brushing yours. “You’re so silly. It’s not like you’re never going to see this place again. Besides, you’re visiting for the whole summer and the break just started! We’ve got time to enjoy everything the Savanna has to offer.”

Your smile grew impossibly wide. “You’re right! And you get to show me everything, and I mean everything!”

Ruggie laughed. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I’ll be a better tour guide than Leona.”

“Sounds good.” You pecked his cheek. “But first, you promised I’d get to meet you grandma. I want to meet her first.”

He seemed to pause for only a millisecond. “Ah, yeah, you’re right. We’ll go there first.”

With your ever present bright smile, you tugged your boyfriend along as you made your way into his home village. It was small, but charming. It also gave you a pang of homesickness, but you didn’t dwell on those thoughts. You were more concerned about meeting your boyfriend’s grandmother for the first time. Whenever you managed to get him to talk about her, he spoke fondly of how she took care of him and all the other children in the village. You were determined to meet the wonderful woman who shaped the amazing guy you were absolutely in love with.

When you reached his house, he stopped you. Scratching the back of his head, he took the chance to explain, “Hey, just so you know, my grandmother, she can be a bit much sometimes. So if she’s a bit demanding or rude, that’s just who she is. She’s old-school, you know? So just, be prepared.”

You squeezed his hand, ignoring his blush for the sake of his pride. “Ruggie, I’m sure she’s just fine.”

Before he could protest, you knocked on the door. When the door opened to reveal his grandmother, she lit up. Pulling your both into a hug, she squeezed you tight.

“Ruggie! You’re here! And you brought your girlfriend! Oh, and she’s absolutely lovely! I can see why you fell in love with her.”

While you laughed, he groaned in annoyance. “Grandma, please-”

“Oh, hush!” Pulling you closer, she gave you a once over. “Let me get a good look at you. Yes, yes, you’re perfect for my Ruggie. Now come in! Come in! Tell me all about school and how you two started dating.”

“Grandma!” Ruggie barked out, his cheeks a deep shade of red. You still continued to laugh. At least you got her seal of approval. You could breathe a little easier now.

The three of you talked for hours over watery tea and biscuits. You had to admit, his grandmother was a phenomenal baker. When you mentioned this to her, she thanked you and told you she would give you the recipe so you could make them yourself. Of course this led to a discussion all about baking. And since Ruggie knew more about eating pastries than making them, he kept quiet and watched with both relief and joy to see his two favorite people getting along so well.

As he was about to make some more tea, there was a knock at the door. Upon answering it, he saw a couple of the neighborhood kids. He smiled, crouching down so he was eye level with them.

“Hey guys. How can I help you today?”

The boldest of the three took a step forward. “We saw there was an outsider in town. We’re here to check it out.”

Ruggie laughed as you walked up behind him. “Looks like the whole town knows you’re here. Y/n, meet Ayden, Isaac, and Yesenia.”

You nodded and held out your hand. “Nice to meet you three. Thank you for stopping by. I promise I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

Ayden crossed his arms over his chest. “See that you don’t. We’ve got enough problems here already.”

Yesenia tugged on his sleeve, a small pout on her lips. “Ayden, hush. Mama said not to talk about stuff like that.”

You winced a little. “Ah, well, is there anything I can do to prove I’m here as a friend?”

“Can you cook?” Isaac asked.

“Of course I can! What would you like me to make?”

The three children glanced at each other before coming to a consensus.

“Doughnuts!”

You laughed, ruffling Ruggie’s hair. “I see where you get it from.”

Swatting your hand away, he whined. “Oh c’mon!”

Shaking your head, you slipped back into the kitchen. “Grandma Bucchi, do you mind if I make doughnuts for some of the kids in town?”

She grinned. “Why, of course! Help yourself! I can even go get more ingredients if you need it. I will tell you, these kids have bottomless stomachs, just like Ruggie. One won’t be enough to satisfy them.”

You nodded. “Of course. I’ll do the best I can.”

After that, you got to work. It’s been a while since you last baked. But the process was just like riding a bicycle. It didn’t take too long for you to get back into the swing of things. Before too long, you had made a few dozen doughnuts for the kids to try.

With the goodies on a tray, you went back into the living room, where Ruggie and the kids were roughhousing. Smiling, you set the tray down on the coffee table. All four of them scrambled over, practically drooling. 

“Alright. Tell me how I did.”

All it took was one bite and they were in love. The doughnuts were gone in no time and they were begging for more. You simply patted them on the head and promised you would do your best.

As you started to head back to the kitchen, Yeseniya tugged at your shirt.

“You should go to the community center. They have a bigger kitchen and more supplies so you can make even more doughnuts!”

Almost choking on nothing, you blinked owlishly at her. You didn’t think your doughnuts were that good! But her pleading eyes were making you melt. Besides, you were making these kids’ day by making them doughnuts. Who were you to deny them?

“Oh, I don’t know. We’ll have to see if it’s okay-”

“It’ll be more than okay.” Ruggie’s grandmother interjected. “We have people who come in to cook for those who can’t afford it all the time. Besides, the center is always open and fully stocked for whoever needs to use it. Money is hard to come by in these parts, so we’re always lending a helping hand to those who need it.”

A pang of empathy hit your heart as you thought about what she had to say. Well, if it was for a good cause, you had to do it now! So with a smile, you nodded.

“I’ll do it.”

“Yay!” The kids started tugging at you, dragging you to the community center. Ruggie just laughed and followed along.

Before too long you were cooking up a storm in the community center. Ruggie was acting as your faithful assistant, plating the warm doughnuts and setting them out for people to take. The three kids had raced around the town, telling people that there were free doughnuts at the community center. Ruggie’s grandmother was helping you keep up with all the hungry people. You had it all down to a system, making sure everyone got more than they needed.

While this wasn’t what you had in mind when you came to the Sunset Savana for holiday break with Ruggie, you were happy with how it turned out. It makes you feel good to help others and put a smile on people’s faces. You were swapping stories of home with Ruggie’s grandmother, and learning all of his embarrassing stories from when he was a little kid. It felt like you really had joined the Bucchi family and become a part of his home.

Little did you know that Ruggie was so happy he brought you home. Seeing you get along with his grandmother and his hometown made him swell with pride and love. He didn’t believe it was possible to fall in love with you more than he already was. Yet here he was, falling in love with you all over again. You were absolutely perfect, not just for him, but for his family as well. It was then that he made a vow to himself that he would never let you.

By the time the last plate of doughnuts were taken, the sun was setting on the horizon. You and his grandmother were out of breath, practically collapsed on kitchen chairs. He smiled tenderly at the sweet scene before him.

“Don’t worry about dinner tonight. I’ll take care of it. It’s the least I could do for all your hard work today.” He said.

You smiled gratefully at him. “Thank you Ruggie, that would be wonderful.”

“Think you can help your old granny home?” His grandmother asked with a breathy chuckle. “These old bones ain’t what they used to be.”

He chuckled. “Of course. Then you can tell me what you want to eat tonight.”

“Not doughnuts, that’s for sure.” She muttered as Ruggie helped her onto his back.

As the three of you walked back to his grandmother’s house, he smiled while listening to his grandmother go on and on about what she wanted to eat, your hand in his.

[amesliu]

so disclaimer: I haven't read the book yet so I don't have the full context + i'm not USAmerican so I dunno how relevant this would be to pjo

Also so sorry for the essay... do ignore this if you don't want to go into this further! I just get rambly about cultures and cultural differences haha

In my family it really depends on who the guest is on what is acceptable behaviour? I guess? Closest to percy and annabeth would probably be my sister and her long term boyfriend (5 -ish years, they're early twenties). He isn't expected to help out, but he's allowed to and does regularly help set the table. In this case he also eats at my parent's at least twice a week. Sometimes he and my sister cook, sometimes they clean etc. (he also helps us host at birthdays sometimes! like offer other guests drinks that kind of stuff) Different example: close family typically helps out in the kitchen. My grandma refuses to let us do anything without her help no matter how insistent we are that "You're our guest! Let us do the work!" she'll just tell us that it would be rude of her to let her (grand)children do all the work while she sits and watches. We also always offer our help when we're over at family. (my mom's best friend, who she has known since college, is the same way btw. She also insists on helping us and we always offer our help when we are visiting her and her family) Now, if the boyfriend's parents came over to eat dinner my parents would not let them lift a finger. Same with neighbours, colleagues and other more casual acquaintances.

If I went off of my own experiences and no further context i'd say that rr is trying to show that percy, annabeth and their friends are very close

I totally get that and I agree it’s context sensitive. HOWEVER. My issues with this scene are as follows:

1. Percy appears to be not doing much of anything in this scene? Like the page I read is just him standing there narrating the scene…….? It literally says “Grover and juniper were setting the table which is usually my job” maybe I’m wrong and I’m missing context but that’s what it read like. But this isn’t rlly my main issue with the food stuff so oh well

2. I have a huge contention with Rick’s push to make Annabeth into a character that is like. Good at and interested in cooking and food handling in general. His justification for her learning to cook appears to be “she’s smart and so ahead in her classes she just decided to” which goes back to my point that I made on my side blog about the poor representation of Annabeth as a “smart adhder”. It feels like a retroactive and lazy justification for a character trait that he has already decided for her when her upbringing and personality has given me no reason to believe she would ever need or care to learn to cook. Her doing so could be an interesting way to explore the way her priorities shift as she gets older as Jules discussed on my post about sohaes last chapter but it’s not being used that way and when he randomly starts pushing his one female character in his main trio to start cooking when both his male characters have a much better characterization for it it also feels somewhat misogynistic and “mommy-ifying” with how heavily the cooking focuses on Annabeth being so so good at cooking

I don’t want this to come off as me saying a female character who cooks is inherently misogynistic but this sudden addition to her character says nothing and does nothing when it can and should. Either she remains not good at cooking and we see food as a medium for care and affection with Percy and Sally as caretakers expecting nothing in return or we see her learn with Sally as a symbolic representation of her gaining smth she lost as a kid. But learning to cook in a class bc she’s just so smart and good at school is… not it.

And even then. What if she does learn in an academic and STRUGGLES with it. How does that interact with her pride? Her personality? Etc.

I think this is a huge issue I have with a lot of the ideas he brings up where they could be incredibly interesting things to explore but he will never take it there so it just feels random. We’re not at a point where we’re supposed to be teaching an audience about a character we’re at the exploring their depth stage and he just. Doesn’t act that way.

3. A cultural issue I guess but my partner would never be allowed to do the work at my parents house but we are sort of a fist fight for the bill type of culture so 🤷‍♂️

Side note: the tangent about Percy being like “wow I’d never think to ask if salad was okay for juniper” followed by the immediate tangent about how hard he’s thought about the feelings of fish and whether or not he eats them was like… something. Idk what but it ticked me off LOOOL

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.154 Didn't see it coming

Mama gives us quick hugs when we arrive, then rushes upstairs to get back on grandma duty. Alessia has never been sensitive, so I'm not surprised she isn't trying to help Mama during her time of need. I hope, at some point, she'll start considering others' feelings and needs before her own. I know better than anyone how important fitness is, but I haven't done my morning yoga in weeks, and I go for a jog when I can. She's not a child anymore. She can't stay in the pool all day while Mama takes care of everything. What will she do when Mama's gone? Instead of dumping the responsibility on her, she needs to learn how to do motherhood and get those trade secrets from an OG while she can.

Since Desiree hadn't met her cousins yet, and the point of this visit is to spend time with Mama, I take her upstairs to get acquainted. She doesn't know who they are or what she's doing in this house, but she seems to enjoy the coos and babbles from the other babies. Breanna is chilling on the play mat, so I set Desi in the empty crib, and for once she doesn't fight or cry. She actually smiles. Is she communicating with her cousins? Perhaps this is the beginning of a beautiful alliance. Mama asks me to watch them for a few moments while she tends the garden, so of course I agree. There's an odd calm in the room. I don't think I've ever been around when all three triplets were satisfied. Grandmas are so magical, I tell ya. I take a moment and gaze at them. Just like Des, they are getting too big too fast. Bre and Arvin might look like their no-good daddy, but they sure are beautiful. Lex is Alessia's mini me. Did she name him that because it sounds like her name?

We didn't eat breakfast because I wanted to get to the house as soon as possible, so I go downstairs to put something on the grill. I don't know why, but I've been really into the grill lately. Maybe that whole man and fire thing has some truth in it. Mama had changed her clothes and hadn't made it to the garden yet, so we walk downstairs together. Well, I go down first and she follows, rather; she's a lot slower these days. As I head out the door, I tell her I'm going to put something on the grill. "Okay. I love you," she says. There's something a little extra warm and fuzzy in that one. Even though she says it all the time, it seems kind of odd for her to throw that in there, so I turn around to say it back. I expect to see her shining face, instead, I see the life oozing out of her.

I stand there for a moment, shocked by my mother's lifeless body on the floor. I did not see that one coming. Like, at all. I'm not ready! Why did it have to happen so soon?! I mean, I know "soon" is a construct of my own mind, and it's just her time, but still! Seeing that hurt. It really really hurts.

"LESS!!!"

The grim reaper shows up, looking like we interrupted his beach vacation or something, and I beg him to give her more time because she has four young grandchildren, and she is a full-time caretaker of three of them. My sister needs her. I plead. I implore. I grovel. When I'm out of reasons for him to revive her, he pulls out his tablet and scrolls through the names, taps on her profile when he sees it, and reads the details of her life. It must be an interesting read because he lets out a "hmmm" now and then, giving me hope he finds something that will convince him not to take her away.

"She's had quite a life," he said, making me even more hopeful. "But my hands are tied. She has no unfinished business. It's her time to go, dude."

Less finally comes in from outside as he tells me this, looking every bit as shocked as me. Sophia starts bawling immediately.

"Sorry for your loss, folks," the reaper says. "Now, if you would excuse me."

He gently side steps us, inching towards Mama's body, and a panic runs through me. I can't watch this. I can't watch him take away my mom's soul, so I rush to the living room to let him destroy what's left of our family.

[mrprettywhenhecries]

a little bit of sugar [s.h]

Steve Harrington ✘ f!Reader

⇾ w.c. 1.8k words ⇾ warning(s). f!reader, oral (f!receiving), fingering, teasing, semi public sex ⇾ a/n. Day Two of HoHoHoe Week. Prompt - Holiday Baking. Read part one here!

Things get steamy in the kitchen while decorating cookies, but Steve craves something even sweeter.

[ masterlist ]

“Where’re you guys going?” you asked, noticing your parents getting bundled up as you searched through your mom’s recipe box for your grandma’s butter frosting recipe.

“To the mall for a little last minute holiday shopping,” your mom answered, slinging her purse over her shoulder.  “What are you two up to?” she countered, lifting an eyebrow at you and Steve.  

You couldn’t shake the feeling she knew your boyfriend had gone to visit your room the night before.

“We’re gunna decorate some cookies,” Steve answered, slipping one of your mom’s frilly aprons around his neck, earning an amused grin from you.

“Oh, fun!” your mom chirped, before reminding you where all the sprinkles were, even though their kitchen setup hadn’t changed since you’d lived there.

“See you in a bit,” your dad said, waving as he pulled the door shut behind him.

“Alone again at last,” Steve chuckled, winking at you, and you grinned, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Focus, Steve,” you warned lightly.  “We need to get these cookies frosted if we wanna eat any,” you insisted, smacking his hands away playfully when he tried to pull you closer.  “Steve!” you laughed, trying to be stern and failing.

“Alright fineee,” Steve sighed, propping his hands on his hips like he usually did when he was being sassy.  “What do we need for the frosting?” he asked, looking over your shoulder at the recipe card.

“Powdered sugar, milk, butter, and vanilla extract,” you read off and Steve went to gather the ingredients.  “Next cupboard over,” you prompted as he pulled open the wrong one, stretching to search for the powdered sugar and you couldn’t help but admire him from the back, biting your lip as your thoughts returned to the events of the night before.

Catching you staring, Steve cleared his throat as he pulled the canister of sugar down, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Focus, remember?” he taunted, cocking an eyebrow at you, and you stuck your tongue out in return.

“Oh, I’m focused alright,” you assured him, putting the room temperature butter into the mixing bowl and measuring the vanilla extract.  “You just look really good in that apron,” you teased.

“I’m starting to question your taste a little, hun,” Steve chuckled, measuring the powdered sugar to run through the sifter.  

“Well, I am undeniably attracted to you, so what does that say?” you said with a shrug, watching the smile on his face out of the corner of your eye.

The Christmas music your parents had left on in the other room drifted to the kitchen as you worked, adding the milk slowly while Steve sifted the sugar.  Once he was finished shaking the last bit into the bowl, you turned on the mixer, letting out a gasp as powdered sugar flew everywhere, dusting you and the counter, while a white cloud hung in the air, drifting lazily downward like the snow outside.

Too stunned for a moment, all you could do was blink while your mouth hung open.  Steve’s laughter washed over you and you turned to gape at him, grabbing a handful of sugar to toss at him in retaliation.

“What was that for?” he spluttered, his turn to gape at you and your turn to laugh.

“That was for laughing at me!” you exclaimed, still giggling at the fine white powder  that coated his face and hair.

Scrunching his nose up, Steve dipped his fingers into the wet frosting at the bottom of the mixing bowl to smear across your nose, earning an incredulous gasp.

“Steve Harrington!” you cried, giving him a taste of his own medicine, or trying to–your boyfriend catching your wrist before you could reach his face, his lips wrapping around your finger, sucking it clean, leaving you flush faced and gaping for a different reason.

Pulling your finger from his mouth with a soft pop, he arched an eyebrow at you, a smug grin tugging at his lips and before you realized what you were doing, your mouth was on his, kissing him hotly as you backed him against the counter.

“Thought we had to finish this first,” Steve teased, grinning against your lips, though his grasp on your waist said he wasn’t letting you go.

“We can finish that after,” you breathed, the heated ache between your legs now too intense to ignore.

Steve chuckled, swapping places with you and lifting you easily to the counter before stepping between your legs.

“You taste so sweet,” he mused, his hands slipping under the hem of your skirt and up your thighs, his palms warm against your skin.

“That’s probably the sugar,” you giggled, helping him work your panties down, watching as he tucked them into his back pocket.

“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, his brown eyes flicking up to yours as he licked his lips.  “Bet there’s something else that tastes even sweeter,” he drawled, a playful smirk tugging at his lips that sent a shiver through you.

Without waiting, he pulled your hips right to the edge of the counter before parting your thighs and kneeling, holding your gaze until he dove under your skirt.

“Steve!” you yelped with a laugh, pulling your skirt up so you could see him.

“Yes?” he asked expectantly, pausing to kiss your inner thigh, his eyes once more flicking up to yours.

“You may continue,” you chuckled fondly, running your fingers through his thick hair.  “I just wanted something to hold onto,” you purred, giving his roots a gentle tug.

“That’s what it’s there for,” Steve teased, bobbing his eyebrows at you before eagerly kissing his way higher, til his breath ghosted over your aching sex. When his tongue delved between your folds, his nose nudging your clit, you didn’t bother to stifle the moan that spilled forth and your head fell back against the cupboard behind you with a soft ‘thunk’.

“Shit, you okay?” Steve asked, pausing to check on you and you nodded hastily.

“I’m fine, please don’t stop!”

Steve chuckled, obeying with a soft groan as he spread your folds to lap a broad stroke all the way up to your sensitive bud, circling it deftly with his tongue as he urged you to hook your knees over his shoulders, pulling you closer.

“Oh fuck, Steve,” you whined, rocking against his mouth as much as you could while held in his grasp, desperate for more.

He moaned into your cunt, his eyelashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks as he focused on your pleasure, his fingers digging into your hips where he held you, seeming to enjoy it almost as much as you were.

Knowing your parents could return at any moment to find you like this, squirming under your boyfriend’s tongue atop their countertop only made the whole thing even hotter.

Steve’s lips wrapped around the hood of your clit to gently suck, his tongue unrelenting against your bundle of nerves and you clenched around nothing, wishing he’d fill you with his fingers at least.  

“F-fuck, oh please!” you managed to whimper, barely conscious of the mess you were making, your juices mixing with Steve’s saliva, rolling down your folds and dampening the back of your skirt.  He hummed in response, but didn’t slow and you knew you were getting close, your release hovering just out of reach.

“M’close,” you gasped, your fingers tightening in Steve’s hair, nails biting into his scalp as you held him against your cunt, desperate to cum against his tongue.

“Please, Steve–” you begged, your head once more falling back and he granted your wish, his tongue lashing against you as he slid two fingers into you, curling to stroke that spot inside that made you see stars, and you fell apart with a desperate cry, your body going rigid as your mind went blank.

Steve lifted his face, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as you came down from your high.

“I was right, much sweeter,” Steve teased, a wide grin tugging at his lips as he peered at you from under his tousled mane of hair.

Unable to keep your own smile hidden, you brushed his hair from his forehead and leaned in to steal a kiss, moaning softly at the taste of you on his lips and tongue.

“And I think they should change the definition of ‘best boyfriend in the world’ to ‘Steve Harrington’,” you mused, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

Glancing down, even beneath the apron covering him, his arousal was quite noticeable, and your grin deepened coyly.

“Eating me out made you this hard?” you asked, slipping your hand down the front of his jeans, feeling him through the thick denim and Steve’s breath hitched, his hips giving an involuntary jerk.

“What can I say?  Seeing how good I make you feel does that to me,” he chuckled.

“You’re so good to me,” you sighed, wondering if you’d have enough time to help Steve get off before your parents got home.  “Would you like some help?” you asked, biting your lip as you continued to caress him and Steve was about to open his mouth to gladly accept when the garage door motor kicked on and your heart leapt into your throat.

“Shit, they’re back!” you hissed, slipping off the counter.  “We need to clean this up,” you exclaimed, springing into action to wet a washcloth and grab some dry towels, tossing one to Steve.

By the time your parents walked into the kitchen, laden with shopping bags, you were just cleaning up the last of the sugar, Steve standing on the other side of the island so no one would notice the bulge in his jeans.

“What happened in here?” your mom gasped, setting her shopping bags down to survey what was left of the damage.

“When we turned on the mixer, the sugar flew everywhere,” you explained with a laugh.

“I see that,” your dad mused, noticing the white powder in your hair and on your cheeks.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” your mom asked, nearly rounding the island to join you.

“Nope!  We’ve got it!” you exclaimed quickly, noticing the flash of panic in Steve’s eyes.

“Alright,” your mom relented, holding her hands up in surrender.  “We’re gunna go wrap the rest of these presents then, if you need us,” she said, grabbing the bags and heading for the stairs.  “But no peeking!” she warned.

“Don’t worry, we won’t,” you assured her, waiting for them to disappear upstairs before letting out a heavy sigh.  “That was close.”

“Tell me about it,” Steve groaned, throwing you a flat look.

Flashing him an apologetic grin, you ambled toward him, draping your arms over his shoulders.

“It was your idea in the first place, remember?” you cooed, arching a wry brow at him, earning you that unamused head tilt while his hands planted on his hips.

“Yeah well, I, for one, would like some help now,” he said pointedly and you couldn’t help but laugh, teasingly feeling him up again, earning you a breathless moan.

“I think I could do that,” you purred, taking his hand to lead him to the downstairs bathroom.  “But you’ll have to be quiet.”

⇾ taglist. @hohohoeweek2023 @b1tchy3lf @heartbreak-sandwich @afestivelegend @hawkinsglasscloset @sugarcookiesteve @birminghamshelbyboys

[it-was-funeral-grey]

Over your head (Al Haitham x F!Reader)

Prequel Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: knock knock! who's there? matra. matra who? you're under arrest, anything you say will be held against you. what.

Warnings: Vulgarities, getting arrested, doctors, boat travel

Word count:<2.6k words

Inspired by:-

Author's note: i hope this is ok! i was also able to visit my grandma the day after i posted the last part :)

Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!

If you had a Mora for every time a random dude cried himself to sleep on your couch, you'd have one Mora. Which isn't a lot, but it's strange that it happened once.

Oh, but if you had a Mora for every time the Matra arrested you for kidnapping, you'd have another Mora. Two Mora isn't a lot, but it could help you get a new bottle of Harra spice. Archon knows that prices have gone up recently.

"Secure the house," a man wearing the Matra's iconic teal and bronze uniform barks as three of his colleagues surround you. "And call a doctor!"

It happens so fast. Chains are fastened around your hands, and you feel a hand push against your back, forcing you forward.

All around, your neighbours peek out of their houses, watching as the three Matras lead you out of the village. You can hear them gossiping amongst themselves, casting curious glances as you pass them.

"Kidnapping? Her? Who would have thought…"

"She has always been so kind…I can't believe it."

Where to? You don't know. If you were courageous enough, you would've protested- ask what is happening. But words fail you. Your tongue feels like a brick, refusing to let you plead your case.

You've been told stories about the Matra. Village elders would spook kids with tales of the 'all-knowing, scary, and will eat you if you misbehave!' Matra. You've never thought of them as scary before, though. But now, you're beginning to think that the village elders weren't exaggerating.

Their presence alone was enough to render the bustling village silent on this beautiful, sunny afternoon. You've never heard the village go this quiet, not even during the dead of night. The only sound you hear now is the pounding of your heart, together with the remaining Matra stomping into your home, throwing things around in their search for evidence.

But evidence for what? Kidnapping? Who did you even kidnap?! The Green dude? You were only helping him, for archon's sake!

"The nerve! Kidnapping the Acting Grand Sage!" a neighbour rages to another. "Sumeru is relying on him to lead us out of this mess, and she dares to harm him! Oh, may Lesser Lord Kusanali punish her!"

Wait. Hold on.

Acting. Grand. Sage?

Mr Green man is the Acting Grand Sage?!

Kaveh is going to kill Al Haitham.

It's one thing to take his keys and only let him in after 5.05 pm.

It's a whole other thing to take his keys and not come home. Leaving him outside. In the rain. For the entire night. And it's the peak monsoon season in Sumeru, so he can't even dry his drawings that had been drenched the night before.

"Seriously! He's gone from bad to worse," Kaveh laments to the shorter man. "He didn't even tell me he wasn't coming home!"

"Well, have you seen him since yesterday?" the shorter man asks, taking a seat in his office and letting out a tired sigh as he sinks into his chair. He had just come back from tracking a scholar in the desert. He really doesn't want to listen to his friend's rant right now, but he doesn't have the heart to drive him away.

"No! He left that morning at 8:55, as usual. I tried to get him to drink a cup of coffee, but he ignored me! That arrogant fungus! I swear, I'm going to-"

There's a hasty pound on the door, interrupting Kaveh's rant. But before Cyno could invite them in, the door burst open, revealing a frantic Panah.

"General Mahamatra, Mr Kaveh," he greets, panting as he leans over, hands on his knees. He must have run from the Grand Sage's office. "Have you seen Acting Grand Sage Al Haitham?"

Well, that makes two people who have asked about his whereabouts today. Usually, this wouldn't be strange. As the scribe, Al Haitham had the habit of never being where you expected him to be. Even Cyno wouldn't be able to locate him if he seriously didn't want to be found.

But he's the Acting Grand Sage now. And for the last couple of months, he has always been findable- in his office or somewhere speaking to personnel. Cyno stiffens in his seat. Something doesn't feel right.

"No, we haven't seen him," Kaveh answers. But then he frowns. "Wait- what do you mean, 'Have you seen Al Haitham'? Did he not report for work today?"

Now, that's a concerning thought.

"Yes," Panah takes another deep breath, composing himself. "He hasn't come into his office yet. I know it's only ten minutes past 9, but-"

"Al Haitham isn't one for tardiness," Cyno interrupts, standing up. "Kaveh, are you certain he isn't home?"

"Well, yes," Kaveh replies, furrowed brows giving away his concern about his roommate. "He has this annoying habit of using the shower at full blast in the morning. It's unbelievably loud. I would have heard that if he were home since the front door is close to the bathroom."

"Panah, would you happen to know Al Haitham's last know location?"

"He was heading to Port Osmos. He was going to speak with someone in the Wikala Funduq."

Damn, Cyno curses. Port Osmos is at least a good three hours away by boat. Grabbing a loose sheet of paper from his desk, Cyno scribbles a note before sealing it and passing it to Panah.

"Pass this along to the dusk bird handlers. Tell them to send it to the Matra stationed in Port Osmos as soon as possible."

"On it!" Panah grabs the note, dashing out of the office.

"As for me, I'll be heading to Port Ormos now," Cyno states, grabbing his polearm. "Don't worry. I'll bring him back."

"Who says I'm worried? I just want to get into the house- hold on, I'm coming with you!"

Al Haitham is going to kill Kaveh.

It's one thing to wake up to the sound of him hammering away on another one of his projects.

It's a whole other thing to wake up to him screeching about- "Oh archons, if he dies, what am I going to do?"

First off, he's not going to die. He's not ill. Just tired, you fickle fungus.

Second of all, where in Teyvat is he?

There's a faint rocking sensation, and he can hear the faint sound of water sloshing nearby.

A boat, Al Haitham figures. Why is he on a boat?

Opening his eyes, he is immediately greeted by the sight (and sound) of Kaveh panicking at a lady in a white gown. A doctor, Al Haitham realises.

"Sir, the Acting Grand Sage isn't going to pass on," the doctor sighs. "He's just exhausted. He must have fainted from exhaustion- please tell him that he must get sufficient rest to recover!"

Before Kaveh can respond, Al Haitham sits up, fighting the dizziness that came with it. Nope. He doesn't want to hear Kaveh's annoying, panicky voice. Not now, when he can feel a headache coming.

"Al Haitham!"

"Keep your voice down, you-"

"Are you alright?" Kaveh interrupts, concern lacing his tone. But he doesn't give him time to answer before he continues. "Honestly. To think that you'd be kidnapped! You, of all people! Who could even stand having you as a prisoner?"

Huh?

But before he could ask Kaveh what he meant by 'kidnapped', the door to the room opens. Through the door, Al Haitham can see the deck of a ship. So he was right. He is on a boat.

"You're awake," Cyno says. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine," Al Haitham groans, massaging his temple. "What's going on?"

So Cyno is here as well. Something big must have occurred.

Still a little groggy, Al Haitham rubs his eyes as he tries to recall what happened.

Ok, Al Haitham takes a breath. Let's think this through.

He was at Port Ormos around one in the afternoon to speak to the trade supervisors of Wikala Funduq. He wanted to talk to them about restoring the port for business- but the letters he sent there from the Akademiya were never answered. So, he had to make a trip down there himself, much to his annoyance.

That sounds about right. What happened next?

When he reached the port, he was greeted with silence. There was not a soul on the streets. The same could be said for the Wikala Funduq building, the place deserted and collecting dust, save for a lone cleaner working in a corner.

"Oh, you're looking for Mr Dilawar and Mrs Gauhar? They're not here. No one has been here for a while. There's no work here! Nothing to do!"

"Where can I find them?"

"Well...Mr Dilawar lives in Vimara village. I'm not too sure about Mrs Gauhar."

So that's how he ended up travelling to Vimara Village. He had to walk four hours to get to the village entrance since there weren't any boats that could take him there- the captain of the one that brought him to the port from Sumeru city had declined, saying that he had a personal vendetta against the village or something. Al Haitham didn't bother listening.

Yeah, he remembers that part. What happened then?

A soothing voice. A homemade meal. A gentle hand on his back. A comforting presence that made him feel so safe- something he hadn't felt in a very long time.

Wait.

Oh, no.

Before Cyno could answer his question, Al Haitham had already figured out the answer.

"You didn't happen to arrest a villager for kidnapping me, did you?"

"Oh, so you do know what happened," Kaveh answers on Cyno's behalf. "Yeah-"

"That wasn't what happened," Al Haitham interrupts, stumbling off the uncomfortable bed. "Where is she?"

"Hold on, what do you mean-"

"I mean what I said," Al Haitham snaps back, heading towards the door. The headache is now hitting with full force, and he hides a wince. "Cyno. Where is she?"

If you weren't in your current predicament, you'd probably be running around the deck, admiring the way the water below reflected the stars above. You've never been on a boat this big before- it wasn't as large as cargo vessels or cruise boats that carried rich Snezhnayans, but it's larger than anything you've ever boarded.

You also would have been really excited about going to Sumeru city- home of the rich, the smart and the accomplished. You've never travelled beyond Vimara village, apart from heading to Port Ormos every once in a while.

It's a quiet night. Apart from the occasional jingling of your chains secured to the railings on the deck, the two Matra who watch over you don't make a sound apart from occasional sighs. Curling yourself into a tiny ball, you hug your legs, burying your head on your knees. It's getting cold. Goosebumps have risen all over your limbs, and you try to rub your arms to get rid of them but to no avail.

Slam!

The loud sound shocks you back into reality. Lifting your head, you see that the door to the boat's accommodation has been flung open, the light in the room spilling out onto the dark deck.

A tall figure exits the room- although your eyes have already adjusted to the dark, you can't really tell who it is, but the two Matra seem to know. They immediately stiffen in place, standing at attention as the silhouette approaches the group.

As the figure comes closer, you see a faint green glow on its shoulder.

It's him. The Acting Grand Sage. The green man- ok, you gotta stop calling him that.

The Acting Grand Sage stops just a step away from you. You raise your head to glance at him, and he meets your gaze with an emotion you can't quite name.

"Ok, hold on!" there's the sound of hasty footsteps. A man with a feather in his hair runs up to the Acting Grand Sage. "What do you mean, 'that wasn't what happened'?"

"I'll have to ask you the same," there's calmer voice, this one belonging to a shorter man. "We can't release her if you don't tell us what happened."

The Acting Grand Sage sighs, facing the two that have just joined him. There's a tension in the air.

"I wasn't kidnapped," he starts. "I spent the night at her house. That is all."

Woah, that sounds suspicious.

The man with the feather looks like he's about to have a stroke. His jaw has dropped. Meanwhile, the shorter man looks like he has been frozen in place, eyes nearly budging out of their sockets.

"You- huh?!" exclaimed the feathered man, head whipping in your direction, intense eyes burning into yours. "You, let HIM spend the night? HIM?"

You jolt back in surprise, not quite expecting to be talked to, hitting your head on the railing with a loud 'ping'. You grimace in pain, bound hands raising to massage the area, chains jingling as you moved.

"Get your head out of the gutter," The Acting Grand Sage snarls, standing between you and the feather man. "She cared for me when I passed out. I slept on the couch."

"Passed…out?" the feathered man frowned, voice now soft.

"Well, the doctor did say he was exhausted." the shorter man added.

"That's not the time for this," the Acting Grand Sage changes the topic. He faces the shorter man. "Will you release her?"

The shorter man ponders for a moment.

"I can remove her chains," he answers. "But she'll still have to come to the Akademiya to give a statement. A report still has to be submitted, so I'll need your statement as well, Al Haitham. I'll go to get the keys."

With that, the shorter man leaves. The feathered man looks shaken up but quickly follows after the other.

"Are…you alright?" the Acting Grand Sage asks once the two are out of earshot.

"I…I'm fine," your voice wobbles. You haven't spoken since the Matra arrested you because you were afraid that your words would have been used against you later on. Well, that and the fact that you were scared shitless. You feel pressure build behind your nose. "I'm just-"

Your sniffle cuts your sentence short. Your eyes begin to water.

Behind, you hear the two Matra shift uncomfortably. Gosh, are you really gonna cry in front of everyone? How embarrassing. You're even making the Matra feel awkward. You avoid his gaze, trying to blink away tears.

The Acting Grand Sage seems to have picked up on your discomfort as he waves the Matra away. He tried to be subtle about it, but you don't miss the considerate gesture, even with your tear-filled vision.

"There's goosebumps all over your arms," there's a faint rustling of fabric. "It's not surprising. The wind is picking up. It'll probably start raining soon."

He walks behind you, and you feel something drape over your head, blocking your sight.

It must be his cape. It's warm.

You hear him lean onto the railings, letting out a sigh. A silence fills the air between you two.

It's nice. Relaxing. Comforting.

No one will see if I cry now, right?

So, you do.

But you weren't crying out of fear. No, these are tears of relief.

And through it all- the sniffling, the sobbing, the snivelling, the man behind you never said a word. But he didn't need to.

His presence was enough. Enough for what? You don't know.

All you know is that everything is going to be alright.

You're safe here. With him.

Join the Taglist!

[hugemilkshake]

https://www.tumblr.com/hugemilkshake/769879744155090944/to-this-same-anon-i-love-getting-ideas-and?source=share

It might be because of length of message...ngl that is the longest thing I have put into anyone's inbox...I want to say, jokingly, that I might have actually made your inbox explode...my bad.

Still if ya want a legit request instead of just an absolute avalanche of ideas...I'll just say one single hallmark idea before I let you go running off lmao:

Clotted cream doing the hallmark running of stopping y/n from leaving lmao! Like say y/n was sent by their family to Clotted cream to work for him for a while for...some reason...they end up falling in love, y/n starts leaving...like their family is on the ship y/n is about to board so they are standing there and watching this...clotted cream runs up to the airship and starts professing his love aaaand family approves of relationship and/or marriage lmao!

Enjoy the milkshake! I’m making this the most hallmark ever. Also y/ns grandma is named grandma cookie.

Stay for the holidays?

-romantic-

Hallmark movie au

You decided to go visit the city your grandma lived in, she was old and you wanted to show her some holiday cheer! Christmas was very important holiday for your family after all.

When you walked into the city you were… disappointed. There was no holiday cheer anywhere! The streets were busy but for the joy of gift giving, the stores were open but only for groceries and the trees were bland and unlit.

It was disappointing to see but it was a big city so there might not be the budget to decorate the whole city, hopefully your grandma decorated her home a little.

You walked towards your grandmas house, your shoes clicking against the cement of the side walk, your luggage rolling along with no difficulty.

As you walked you heard quick footsteps, like someone was running. The footsteps got closer, and closer and closer until you shut your eyes for impact.

Papers flew everywhere, your luggage scraped against the ground and you felt your hand and arms scrape against the concrete.

You opened your eyes and saw a blond haired cookie looming over you. His face flushed and immediately got off you and stammered an apology

“I’m so sorry, I was rushing and I guess I wasn’t watching where I was going” he started to pick up the scattered papers he dropped, his brilliant green eyes gazing at you occasionally

You told him it was alright and to just be a bit more careful. You’re dough stung from getting scraped against the ground.

“Are you alright?” The blond haired cookie stood up and extended his hand out for you. You took it, it stung to but when you stood up to your full hight, the other cookies eyes met yours.

It seemed magical, it was like fate brought you two together. His eye were green with hints of gold. As the two of you gazed at each others eyes, a gentle snow fall fell upon the two of you. “Your hurt…” he said as he looked at your scraped dough.

The blond hair cookie soon let go of you hair and looked away, his face flushed yet again. “Ehem… I’m Clotted Cream Cookie… by the way…” you responded with a smile, telling him your name. Your face flushed slightly as well.

The two of you awkwardly parted ways, you started to walk a bit faster since the snow fall was getting heavier.

—————————————

You made it too your grandmas house. It was cozy, there were some small decorations that you could see, it wasn’t much but it was enough to bring a smile to your face.

Grandma Cookie couldn’t decorate as much as she’d like too anymore but the small Christmas tree in the window was enough

You greated your grandmother with a bright smile, you almost cried. You forgot how much you missed her… it’s been a while…

You got settled in and helped your grandma decorate more, the home seemed more alive now. When it was around the time you’d eat dinner Grandma approached you.

“Y/N Cookie dear I hope you don’t mind but I have my old work associate and some of his family coming over for dinner” Grandma Cookie seemed guilty for not telling you sooner, so you gave her a pat on the back and said that you were okay with meeting her old work associate and his family

—————————————

It was a little later, you made some food with Grandma Cookie and now you both were waiting for the associates to arrive.

The doorbell rung and Grandma Cookie answered, and you couldn’t tell if your face flushed or you widened your eyes in surprise because of who you saw.

You saw the same green eyes you gazed into before, Clotted Cream Cookie. His face shifted to surprise as well. None of you expected to run into each other again.

You couldn’t even pay attention to what your grandma was saying, the fact that this guy from earlier was now in front of you again stunned you.

Maybe it was fate.

Maybe fate brought the two of you together, so why not get to know him?

——————————————————

Dinner went smoothly, everyone enjoyed the food and you somehow convinced Clotted Cream to hang out with you at some point!

————————————

“Clotted Cream Cookie? How do you celebrate the holidays?”

“Hm… I dont usually celebrate the holidays, I don’t really see the point of it-“

“YOU DONT?!”

Clotted Cream jumped back as your hands met the table in shock. He could pick up the passion in your eyes, it made his face flush.

Your passion was something he liked.

And you were going to teach him the reason for the season.

——————————————————

“Y/N Cookie? Are you sure this is a holiday thing?”

“Yes! Have you never made a snowman before?”

The snow crunched under you feet as you walked over to Clotted Creams imperfect snowman to set a carrot nose into it.

Clotted Creams elegance was charming, it was something you found pleasant about him.

Your whole personality and the way you made the most boring days feel bight and cheery was something Clotted Cream needed…

—————————————

The weeks went by and you honestly found yourself falling for Clotted Cream, but you had to leave. It hurt, seeing Grandma Cookie sad that you couldn’t stay for the holidays broke your heart and saying goodbye to Clotted Cream shattered it completely.

As you walked closer to the airships you heard your name get called. You brushed it off until you heard your get called name again.

You turned around and you were face to face with the same eyes you saw on the first day.

Clotted Cream seemed desperate, he gently reached out and grabbed your wrist.

“Y/N Cookie… I know this might be a lot to ask but… please… stay for the holidays? I don’t think I’ll be able to celebrate them without you.. so please stay…”

[bordysbae]

i am obsessed with the ethan x diabetes reader it’s so good! could you please write another?

“you aren’t alone”

ethan edwards x f!reader

omfg i’m so sorry this has taken me so long to write my inbox is so full rn!!

you and ethan are currently visiting his family for part of winter break. his grandparents are going to be staying at his parents house, and so are the both of you. this is your first time meeting his grandparents and you know how close he is with his grandfather, so you’re quite nervous. you guys arrived in canada last night, and his grandparents are coming in less than an hour.

“babe i promise if my parents like you, they’ll like you too. you don’t need to impress anyone,” ethan reassures you as he comes up behind you in the mirror. you readjust your shirt for the fifth time now, sighing at how you can’t manage to get it to look good. “babe stop, we’re going to pick them up from the airport anyways so your shirt doesn’t matter. cmon let’s go downstairs,” he says as he intertwines his fingers with yours.

you and ethan are sat in the back of the car, with ethan’s dad driving. the airport is full of people rushing to find their rides, and people entering the airport as well. you guys see his grandparents standing with their suitcases and ethan’s dad pulls the car over in front of them. ethan gets out to help his grandpa, while his grandma slides in the backseat. “hi darling! you must be y/n! i’ve heard so much about you, you’re so gorgeous!” she smiles at you sweetly. your heart begins to race, and you put your largest and sweetest smile on your face.

“oh thank you mrs. edwards! it’s wonderful to meet you as well!” you beam. ethan then gets back in the car, and you all head back to the edwards household.

when you arrive at the house, ethan, his father, and his grandfather immediately go to watch the hockey game that’s on the tv while you go into the kitchen to catch up with the other women. eventually the boys all come into the kitchen and sit at the table with you guys, immediately causing a ruckus. when the boys join in on the conversation, it switches to laughter and loudness.

suddenly you start to feel dizzy and lightheaded, and ethan immediately notices.“babe, are you alright?” he asks in your ear. you lousily nod, not trying to draw the attention on you. you don’t want to seem like you’re begging for attention, especially in front of his parents and grandparents. you try your best to ignore the dizziness and the empty feeling in your head, but it eventually becomes to much and you grab ethan’s attention by tapping his shoulder.

“im going low e,” you whisper. he quickly gets up to grab you some juice and a snack, grabbing the attention of everyone at the table.

“honey are you alright? you basically jumped up from the table!” his mom chuckles, turning around in her seat to face her son.

“y/n is going low, do we have any juice?” he asks frantically. his mom immediately helps him navigate through the kitchen and a few moments later he returns with juice and candy for you. you awkwardly eat and drink, trying to ignore the lingering attention that’s on you.

“im sorry, i didn’t mean to cause a scene,” you speak up, very clearly embarrassed.

“oh darling, don’t apologize! ethan’s grandfather is actually a diabetic as well,” ethan’s grandma smiles, gesturing to her husband who’s sat across the table from her. you immediately look at him and he rolls up his sleeve to show you the glucose monitor on his arm, making you smile.

“oh wow, i had no idea!” you exclaim, instantly feeling a sense of relief. you turn to look at ethan who has an even bigger smile on his face, glad you’re feeling more comfortable around his family. “see babe, you aren’t alone!” ethan whisper-yells to you, before placing a soft kiss in your hair.