#like the kinda silent freak out into verbal freak out once you can cut

[someonefantastic]

GIFMAS ❅ Fav Part of the ATW10 BTS ↳ for @avasrhodes

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Five. "You guys gossip about boys without me?"

warnings: swearing, mentions of emotional abusive/manipulation word count: 3.2k (not including pictures)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

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Y/n dropped her phone on the bed and slowly rolled off and onto the ground with a soft THUD. She grunted, falling harder than she expected but the dull pain now present in her right shoulder felt deserved somehow. Why did she think she deserved it? Maybe because she was an unconfrontational worm even when the person needed to be confronted because he hurt her more than anyone ever had.

She closed her eyes and wiggled to get comfortable on the thin carpet in her room. Laying on the ground was relaxing to her, forcing her gamer back to straighten to how it was intended. It helped her think, being on the floor. She didn't know why but she didn't question it. Just laid on the floor in acceptance with the dirt and forgotten candy wrappers.

Why didn't she want to respond to Peter? Well, years of being with him and even the months of not being with him had taught her that her ex liked to get his way and liked to take his anger out in her verbally when he didn't.

You could say she's heard some terrible things over very simple inconveniences.

Y/n slowly pattered to her desk and slid on her headphones, finding the discord server Dream said he and George were on. It was a server that a lot of their friends were in, one that Y/n hardly went in since she still hadn't met a lot of them and wasn't super comfortable with talking in it yet.

She scrolled through the various text chats, one for boredom, one for stream questions, one for memes, one for pictures of pets, one for.... discussing the inevitable takeover of rats...? Y/n wasn't sure what that was about but she knew she didn't want to find out. The list went on. She was pretty sure they had made a channel for every possible message someone could ever send.

There were equally as many voice channels, most of them titled with the names of different games for when they only played with each other and didn't stream. Some of them were just random names and she noticed there was one to match the rat takeover text channel. Okay, who was responsible for that?

After what felt like an entire scavenger hunt and with many new questions in her mind, Y/n finally found the voice channel Dream and George were in and clicked on it. It was called memerz-only.

"I'm not a memer, am I allowed in here?" she asked. She hadn't realized how messed up her voice was since she hadn't talked all day.

"Holy shit, Bug, you sound awful."

She scoffed a laugh. "Thanks, Dream. Really means a lot." She did sound pretty scuffed. Her voice was a little scratchy from not talking literally all day.

"You doing okay, Bugsy?" George asked kindly, to which she hummed.

“I just have one quick question...”

“Mhm?”

“This is simple, please don’t elaborate further. There’s a channel on this server... did you guys mean rat as in BadBoyHalo’s dog or rats as in rats?”

Neither of them spoke for a minute before George understood what she was referring to. “Oh! Rats as in rats.”

“Okay, thank you.” 

“Yeah, Quackity—“

“No!” she interupted. “No! I said I don’t wanna know. I really don’t. I’m too afraid to understand.”

“Wha- HA, okay.”

“Good choice, Bugsy. I wish I didn’t know what it’s about. It’s a lot weirder than you’d think.”

“Now that that’s settled,” Dream said with a laugh. “How are you doing, Bug?”

"Neither of you are streaming, right?" she asked, doubling checking the twitch app on her phone to be sure.

"No."

"So I don't have to pretend to be happy and bubbly?"

"No, you can be as mundane as you'd like," Dream said. "We don't mind."

"Yeah, honestly, most of the time when Dream and I are on calls alone it's just us being super boring and hardly talking."

"That's..." she paused to find the right words and decided with, "actually really cute. You guys just enjoy each other's presence."

George scoffed and Dream giggled. "See, even Bug says we're cute, Georgie! Why can you tell me you love me?"

"I'll leave right now if you don't stop," George threatened. "Can we go back to how Bugsy's miserable?"

"I'm not miserable, I just..." she hesitated. She had already told George about why she was having a bad day, but Dream?

She didn't want to tell Karl because she knew he would yell at her. She didn't want to tell Sapnap because she didn't trust him not to tell everyone (on accident, of course). For some reason, it was a different kind of hesitation than with the others that made her not want to tell Dream. She didn't want to tell him because she didn't want to be... embarrassed? Maybe that was it. She thought it would be embarrassing to tell Dream about how her ex-boyfriend treated her like shit and how now he wants to get back together with her. Plus, she knew how everyone else individually would react but Dream was a complete mystery. Maybe he'd yell at her too and say she's stupid for being affected by an ex. Maybe he'd break down crying for some reason? Who knows?

"You don't have to tell us," Dream stated. "Seriously."

"It's embarrassing," she said, tucking her feet beneath her on her seat. As she said the words, she decided they felt right. She was embarrassed. "But George already knows."

Above everyone else, Y/n was okay with telling George about her situation because he and her tended to talk about their troublesome relationships quite often. He always came to her for advice and she to him. They were very similar in their ways of thinking and seemed to have lots of similar dating stories, even if neither of them knew what the hell they were doing. She knew he'd never judge her for thinking unclearly since he tended to do the same.

George hummed, not knowing what to say since she hadn't said much. She could tell he didn't wanna say something that might make Dream more nosey and start hounding her about telling him.

"What hap—never mind. Not my business," Dream said quickly.

"No, I mean, I kinda wanted to talk to George about it again anyway so I guess you can join in on the gossip." Guess my mouth decided for me on this one, she thought.

"Wait, what? You guys gossip about boys without me?"

"Oh my gosh, don't say it like that, Dream," George groaned. "Bugsy and I talk about relationship problems a lot, yes. Not just boys."

"How did I not know this?"

"Because you don't know a lot of things?"

"It's normally George sending screenshots of text conversations with girls and asking me how to let them down gently," Y/n explained with a giggle.

"Or Y/n talking about her asshole ex."

"George! What do you and Karl not get about not calling him names?"

"I'm so lost," Dream mumbled.

Y/n sighed. "Okay, well," she cut herself off with a groan. "It's so embarrassing. Basically, my ex asked me to 'chat' this morning which is code for he wants to get back together—"

"Do you know that for sure?" Dream asked.

"Yeah, we already decided that," George snapped. "Let her finish."

"Sorry."

"So he wants to get back together and I feel stupid for wanting to listen to what he has to say."

"How is that embarrassing?"

"Because he hurt me and I feel like an idiot because him even suggesting that means he doesn't realize how badly he hurt me. It makes me feel like, I don't know, like all the time I spent being upset was for nothing," Y/n explained in a soft voice. "And because his simple, like, five word text made me freak out all day to the point of exhaustion."

"I don't think you should be embarrassed, Bugsy," George offered.

"Have either of you, uh, have you ever considered dating an ex?"

"Didn't you just say he hurt you badly?" Dream asked. "You aren't thinking of getting back with him, are you?"

"No... but I want to stay friends so maybe I should hear him out?"

"Well, I've never gotten back with an ex," he said bluntly. "But to be fair, all my relationships have ended badly or for bad reasons so I've never wanted to see any of them again. Staying friends depends on why you and he broke up, I guess, but..."

"Um, how do I put this..." she trailed off. "He was mean to me."

"Then no? Simple."

"But I've forgiven him and I think he's changed."

"People don't change that easily. Didn't you break up like, a few months ago?" George asked.

"Yeah, but—"

"Honestly I think if a guy was ever mean to you he doesn't deserve any more of your attention," Dream decided. "So, no. Don't even be his friend. Don't listen to a single thing he has to say."

"That's what I told her," George agreed.

"If that were the case, you guys shouldn't be friends," she argued. "You're mean to each other all the time."

"But we know it's a joke," George defended.

"So you're saying if someone is ever purposefully mean to you just once, you drop them forever?"

"Well, no," Dream said. "Not exactly. But it sounds like he was super mean to you since it's why you broke up."

She took a deep breath. She didn't want to go into detail. She was already uncomfortable enough talking about her personal life so much, but she trusted both of them and needed to get it off her chest and they were there and willing to listen. They had already established wanting to listen to her if she wanted to speak and right now, she wanted to speak. Maybe not the full story, but at least some. "He, um, well, the mean things he said, he said because he was trying to get me to see what he thought was the truth about myself."

Both of them were silent for a few moments. "I'm still confused," George admitted.

"Me too... But you don't have to tell us." Dream explained again. She thought it was sweet that they kept reassuring her that.

"I know, but I want to. If it's not too much for you guys..."

"No, go ahead, if you want."

"Uh, he lowkey emotionally manipulated me by telling me I wasn't good enough for anyone and stuff and how he was the only one who could ever love me. The second part he said truly believing that he was being romantic. There are a lot worse and specific things engraved in my brain but that's the gist of what he would tell me. He made me believe that I could never leave him because I could never be loved by anyone else. But he said it all in a way that... he thought he was just... letting me in on something no one else had the guts to tell me."

George gasped. "What?! Bugsy, I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was like that."

"Woah, what the hell? No. Absolutely not. Don't give this guy a second thought. Cut him off for good," Dream said sternly, angry that anyone would say that to anyone, especially to someone like Y/n. "Wait, so, you broke up with him?"

"Yeah. After Karl yelled at me a lot and explained his outside point of view, I finally realized Peter was gaslighting me and emotionally abusing me and stuff so I dumped him. I guess right now I'm just upset by it because I thought we were past this and I was healing and him reaching out affected me again. I'm just emotionally exhausted. Like I said, it hurts to know that he doesn't realize what he did to me."

"I'm really sorry, Bug," Dream said softly. "Gimme his address and I'll punch him for you."

She laughed through her nose. "That's okay. Thanks."

"Yeah, she can go set his house on fire if she wants. She's proven that already."

"Shut up, George," she said with a small laugh.

"Wh......at?" Dream stuttered and George briefly explained.

"Well, Bug, just so you know, in case you weren't aware, you're really cool and sweet and funny and we really like having you around–" Dream started.

"Oh, ugh, no don't do this," she tried to joke but he ignored her as he continued his speech.

"–and you're way too good to be hanging out with either of us, and whatever that asshole was showing you wasn't love. 'No one could love you like he did' because what he was doing was not love, it was abuse." Dream's voice had a certain gentleness to it as he spoke that comforted Y/n and made her believe him. He was blunt but it didn't stab her in the heart like it should have.

If Y/n ever cried, she might have just then from how sweet they were both being. But she didn't because that wasn't something she did. She never cried over anything Peter said, never cried during movies, and didn't cry then. But she did smile very fondly at the Discord screen in front of her.

"Thank you, Dream."

"You know I'm not good with words, but, yeah, what Dream said," George said. "I'm sorry you had to go through that thinking it was normal. Please, please, do not get back together with him and please don't be friends with him."

"He's fine as a friend though."

"Bug. Whether he's fine as a friend doesn't matter, he doesn't deserve to have you as a friend. He treated you like shit, it's okay to be a little cold to him."

She sighed. They were right. "Okay." There was a long pause before, "thanks, guys. Sorry for coming in here and dumping my problems on you—"

"Don't be sorry," George said. "We're the ones that asked you to come in and share. We knew what we signed up for and don't regret it."

"Seriously, Bug, we care about you. You're allowed to, you know, talk about yourself." How did he know that's what she meant by that sentence? The way he could read her mind was heart-warming.

"Also, George knows this but Dream, there's a strict no-telling policy about this kinda thing. Please don't tell anyone."

"I wouldn't even think of it," he promised. "My lips are sealed."

"Good."

A soft animal noise came from one of their mics and Y/n strained her ears to listen. "Was that a cat?"

"Patches has entered the chat," George joked.

Dream chuckled. "Yeah, my cat just jumped on my lap."

"Aw, you have a cat? Lemme see lemme see lemme see!" Y/n begged. "Partly because I would love if we could stop talking about my ex-boyfriend and the other part because I love cats."

"There's pictures of her in the pets channel on Discord—"

"No, no I want a picture of her on your lap. Is she all snuggled up?"

"Yeah, she is."

"PleASE, Dream. I need to see the snuggly cat."

"Fine, fine, if you insist. Give me a second."

A few moments later, she got a DM from Dream and smiled at the picture. His room was dark but the computer screen cast a cold glow over a ball of fur on a lap clad in sweatpants. "Awww, she's so cute."

"Dream, I wanna see it too," George whined. "Send it to the pets channel."

"I'm literally making this my lock screen," Y/n informed, making Dream laugh.

"No, George, it's only for Bug. She's had a bad day so she gets exclusive Patches content."

"What? That is so messed up."

"You know what's messed up, George?" Dream asked. "You never come to me with advice on how to reject girls. We're on the phone for 12 hours a day but you can't talk to me about girls? Do you know how that makes me feel?"

"You'll just make fun of me."

"Why would I? What makes you think that?"

"Because Sapnap and I make fun of you? So obviously you and him would make fun of me?" George said with a laugh.

"....that's fair."

Y/n locked her phone and clicked the home button to admire her new lock screen. "I love her," she whispered.

Dream and George both laughed. "I'm regretting sending you that. You're gonna, like, make a shrine or something."

"What would be wrong with that? She's precious. She deserves a shrine."

"Yeah, Dream, you're the one that feeds her gormet cooked food," George teased with a laugh. "You probably have a shrine."

"That's normal! That's what people feed their cats! That's completely normal!"

"I don't," George countered.

"Then what do you feed your cat?" Dream asked.

"I dunno, normal cat food?"

"Wait! You have a cat too??" Y/n asked. "I feel like we're missing a huge detail and it's that George never told me he had a cat."

"And a dog."

"WHAT? GEORGE! Send me pictures!!!!!"

"I can't right now, it's like three am. They're sleeping. Look in the pets channel."

"You're the worst," she grumbled, clicking and scrolling to find his pets. She saw a lot of cute pictures of other peoples pets along the way but couldn't find George's.

"Hey, do your animals have English accents?" Dream asked, making Y/n laugh.

"What?" George scoffed. "You're so stupid."

"How would that even sound?" Y/n asked.

"Like..." Dream thought, preparing to test out how it would hypothetically sound. "Meow," Dream meowed in his best accent, failing miserable.

"Oh gosh, never do that again," Y/n begged.

Dream laughed into his mic. "That was disgusting. George, I really hope your pets don't have accents."

"They're animals, so probably not. And if they did, it definitely wouldn't sound like whatever that was."

"Oh come on–"

"OH I FOUND THEM." Y/n announced as she found a message from George in the pets channel with the message 'heard we're sharing our pets'. "GEORGE. THEY'RE SO CUTE."

"Are you gonna make them your background picture now?" George asked.

"What, no way! It's Patches!" Dream scoffed.

"Yeah, I'll make George's pets my home screen. Oh, what a good day." As soon as she said it, a metal bowling ball fell to her stomach, reminding her of all the reasons it was, in fact, not a good day.

She got off after a while, feeling the weight of a particular idiot man's stupid simple text catch up with her again. She thanked Dream and George for letting her join, they invited her to always hang out with them, and she went on her way.

Y/n fell on her bed and curled up under the covers as her mind started to wander from Peter to Dream. She was really glad she met him. He was a really good person and he was always so incredibly kind to her. George and Sapnap and Karl were all great friends, so caring and understanding and always looking out for her, but Dream was different and she didn't know why.

Maybe it was because he seemed untouchable still, like he had no reason to hang out around someone like her. But he wasn't untouchable in the celebrity was since he had a large following, because all of her friends did and they didn't seem untouchable. Then what was it? What set him apart from, say, Karl? She trusted Karl with her life and had known him for quite a while. She knew Dream for maybe a few weeks and almost trusted him the same amount.

Why?

She picked her phone up off the bed and pulled up Twitter, deciding to DM Dream since he was already existing in her mind rent-free. Might as well make him pay his rent by bothering him.

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A/N: EEEEEEEE I hope that all made sense lmaaoooo basically yn ex = gaarrbbaaagggeeeee and ruined her self-worth a lot!! not poggers!!!!!!  THANK U GUYS FOR BEING SO SWEET ALL THE TIME ALL FOR ALL THE POSITIVE FEEDBACK ON ALL THE  CHAPTERS!!! I love seeing you guys make predictions and tell me how aljkDFB chapters make you feel bc same :/

taglist: OPEN (at the time) @hydrate-tion @loraleiix @tinaswagbd @charsdummb @smileyyuta @1ghoste1 @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge @queestionmark @carnations-red @letsloveimagines @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @boiled-onionrings @a-cryptic @fee-btheweeb @letsloveimagines @erwinss @just-a-stan @axths @kayleigh2703 @furiouspockettoad @sometimeseverythingsucks @powerpuffyn​ @itshaileyn @millavalntyne @automaticcomputerpaper @nikkineeky @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @sprucekot @jabby16 @mae-musicbitch @hungoverhellhound @dreamyteam @kuroo-icedtea @stuffforreferences @menacingaesthetic @sapphic-soot @fangeekkk 

[reidgraygubler]

carolina (spencer reid/reader

Title: Carolina

Request: no, but it was written for @spencerreidbingo​

Couple: spencer reid/fem!reader

Category: smut/angst, with a tiny bit of fluff

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (praise kink, mild-innocence kink, daddy kink, fingering, oral (male & female), penetrative sex, unprotected sex/cream pie, grinding/petting, hairpulling, breathplay, multiple orgasms, possessive kink, orgasm denial), partying, drinking, swearing, large age gap (between two consenting adults), professor/student, post prison!reid, quick mentions of drinks being drugged (but not actually happening) (if I missed anything, please let me know)

Word Count: 9,064

Summary: Spencer thinks his peer is innocent. But little does he not, she’s not as innocent as he thinks.

A/N: it’s based on carolina by harry styles, bc im a sucker for a good harry song. This was written for @spencerreidbingo​ (i’ll have a separate post with more about that). this takes up the breathplay square on my card (pictured below). This is also the first time im writing a blowjob scene, so im really sorry if it’s not good. i also didn’t have a beta for this, so im kinda blindly posting this. and, lastly, this is a lot longer than i intended. i didn’t mean for it to get this long… it’s just a bunch of words my brain wouldn’t stop saying until i wrote it... i seriously hope you all enjoy this. thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist!

~*~* THIS DOES CONTAIN 18+ CONTENT!! *~*~

{***}{***}{***}

I kept my eyes low as I stepped into the lecture hall 5 minutes before anyone else. The professor was writing something on the chalkboard, so his back was facing the room. 

“Uh, hello,” I spoked, stepping closer to his desk. He jumped slightly and dropped his chalk at the sound of my voice. I would have expected him to know students would be showing up earlier, considering it was the start of a new semester. And, I honestly would have assumed he was told a new student was coming. That’s not my job. 

“Oh, sorry,” he turned around to face me. I smiled softly, watching

as he bent down to pick up the chalk. I cocked my head to the side, watching his backside as he stood back up. He pushed his hair away from his face. “You must be the new transfer,” he asked, resting the chalk on his desk, beside a pile of pens.

“Yep. That’s me…” I smiled, looking up at his face, keeping myself from further checking him out. I quickly offered my hand and gave him my name. “I know I’m early. I figured I’d get the syllabus from you now instead of after class,” I nodded as I adjusted my grip on my bag. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes lingering on my face and then down my body, and that moment felt like an eternity. I shouldn’t be mad or frustrated with him. I basically did the same thing to him moments ago.

 I cleared my throat to get his attention once again. “The, uh… The syllabus?” I asked as my smile faltered slightly. He looked at me before looking at the pile of papers on his desk before quickly moving.

“Right, right, sorry,” he muttered as he began shuffling through the piles of paper on his desk. “Um, here you are,” he looked back up at me as he handed me a small packet. I looked at it for a moment before looking back up at the teacher.

“Perfect, thank you,” I spoke, my words kind of lingering because he never actually gave me his name. 

“Right, sorry, Spencer. Spencer Reid. I won’t be a drill sergeant about the whole Mr., Dr., Professor. You can call me whatever you want,” he smiled as he placed his hands on the back of his chair. I held back my laughter and the wildly inappropriate joke that I wanted to make.

“Well, Professor Reid,” I smiled as I looked down at my watch, “I better go find a seat before your class starts. I can’t wait to be in your class,” I looked up at him before turning to find a spot. When I sat down, Spencer looked at me with a smile, before going back to writing on the chalkboard. 

I quickly and quietly pulled out my books and pens as the other people in the class filed in and took their seats. Spencer quickly finished writing on the board before turning around to greet the class. And, even as he spoke to the class, and looked around at each of the other students, his eyes always landed on me, lingering for a moment before going elsewhere.

{***}{***}{***}

Five months. Five months into being in Spencer Reid’s class, and I have been suffering. I’m not a new student anymore. But the only friendship I’ve made is with my fucking professor, and there’s a certain level of tension between us. That tension was probably thanks to him staring at me during lectures, and me teasing him while he taught. It wasn’t too bothersome, but I definitely wanted something to happen. Unfortunately for me, I don’t think anything will happen. 

So, can someone please tell me why I invited Spencer over to help me study for a test? It’s a stupid question too, that I already figured out the answer to… I even finished studying for the day, and I’m going to a stupid party. Maybe I could get him to go with… And maybe, just maybe, something could happen.

I nearly jumped when there was a knock on the door. It’s not that I forgot he was coming over. It’s that I was so wrapped up in doing my makeup and forgot what time it was. My mascara almost smudged when I jumped back. Thank God it didn’t smudge too terribly. 

I grabbed my shirt off the counter and threw it on (not bothering to zip it), before running to the front door. I smoothed out my skirt before pulling the door open. And, there stood Spencer. 

“Hope I’m not too late,” he looked down at me and smiled. Although, his smile didn’t stay for too long when he saw what I was wearing. He wasn’t disappointed though, no. He was… He clearly liked what he saw, I’ll just put it that way.

“Oh! Thanks for coming over, but I actually figured it out. I should’ve called you,” I looked up at Spencer as he stepped into my apartment. I struggled to zip the back of my blouse as I walked towards my room. I looked back over my shoulder and noted that Spencer was, indeed, still following me. “Can you zip me up,” I stopped in my tracks before giving up on zipping my blouse. It was a black crop top that paired well with the pale pink tennis skirt. 

“Where… Where exactly are you going tonight? It’s a, uh, it’s a school night,” he asked as he lifted his hands. The cool metal of the zipper pressed against my back, causing a shiver to go through my spine.

“Uh, there’s this party,” I answered, stepping away from him and towards the bathroom, “Thought I’d go,” I looked at him in the mirror. Spencer looked around the bathroom, at the messy mess I had made on my counter. Different pallets of makeup and tools were strewn about, a varying amount of hair care products tossed here and there. It honestly looked like a bathroom of a pageant queen, and not a 20-something-year-old. In my defense, I had to dress to impress someone here in this stupid university. 

“Is that, uh… Is that smart?” Spencer asked, leaning against the door jamb. I looked up at him as I put on some luxurious red lipstick. I smiled as I looked at him.

“I think it is,” I laughed as I picked up something else and turned to look at him, “You wanna come? I wasn’t invited,” I smiled wickedly as I looked at him. His face paled two shades as he looked at me. “Oh, c’mon, Professor, no one will know us there, and I can assure you, no one will even see us,” I looked up at him as I readjusted his tie. He looked down at me before swallowing roughly. 

“I don-”

“I do need a designated driver,” I spoke before cutting him off. I walked past him and towards my room. Part of me wondered what he was thinking as I so rudely rushed past him, or cut him off, or whatever I was doing. I wished I could hear his thoughts. I wondered if they consisted of “The mouth on that girl,” or, “I should punish her for the way she’s acting,” or, my personal favorite, “I should put that mouth to good use,” 

“How old are you again?” Spencer asked once I sat down on my bed. I looked up at him as I slipped my shoes on.

“22,” I smiled and stood up, “Why, is that important?” I smiled as I grabbed my coat and purse.

“Couldn’t remember,” he lied. We both knew he was lying. He even knew that too. Freaking walking computer is what he is. There's no way he conveniently forgot how old I was. “Are you going to be out late?”

“Why? It’s not like you’re my dad or anything?” I laughed, leading him back to the front door of the house. “I don’t plan on being out too late. I know there’s class tomorrow,” I shrugged as I walked towards his car. 

We both stayed silent as he drove with the directions I was quietly giving him. I was pleasantly happy that we were both quiet, but what I hated was the sudden awkward sexual tension that was between us. If he didn’t have this… domineering personality over me there probably wouldn’t be this tension between us.

“Are you going to come with me?” I looked up at him as I unbuckled. He glanced over at me with slight disappointment in his eye. I felt a little bad, but I really wanted to go to this party, I wasn’t going to let my professor’s disappointment stop me. “Please,” I whispered. He sighed before unbuckling himself. I had to force myself to not verbally giggle with excitement before slipping out of the car. Spencer looked down at me as I twisted my hips to swish my skirt. I smiled as I entertained myself. I'm sure if I wasn't watching my skirt, I would have been staring at him, giving myself away. 

“Steps,” Spencer muttered as we got closer to the porch. I looked up at him before looking towards the small staircase. I looked up at Spencer with a smile. He glanced back down at me, a worried crease in his brow. I looked down at my skirt and smoothed it out. I looked at the door as we stood close to it, I contemplated knocking.

  “So, you weren’t invited to this party?” Spencer asked, looking down at me. His voice stopped me from knocking. Instead, I looked up at him and smiled back up at him. He raised an eyebrow as he waited for an answer from me. My smile grew playful as I looked back at the door, raising my fist to knock on it. “No answer?” he asked, still waiting for my answer.

“Oh, please, Professor Reid, I can get into the hottest parties in LA without an invitation,” I smiled at him. That was a little bit of an over-exaggeration. Most college parties I could get into. But not LA parties. Someday though… 

The door swung open, and we were instantly met with loud music blaring through a speaker somewhere in the house. People’s voices and chatter carried all throughout the house, coming through the various rooms and clusters around. “Are you coming in to babysit me? Or, are you going to go back to your car to read the science of the mathematical phenomenon,” I looked up at him, offering my hand to him. I wasn’t exactly sure if that was a real book or not, but I wouldn’t put it past Spencer to read. 

“I’m not babysitting you,” he corrected as he looked down at me with a disappointed look in his eye. I smiled and rolled my eyes. 

“Are you going to come in and watch me drink and party and have fun, Professor… Or, are you going to go back to your car and read your silly little book,” I looked down at my hand, silently telling him to take my hand and come in with me. 

“I, uh, I don’t think it’s exactly in the rules for a professor to party, let alone drink, with their students,” Spencer spoke before looking down at my hand. I dropped my shoulders and looked up at him.

“Fine then… Suit yourself,” I turned around and basically skipped into the house, leaving the door open for him. I made my way towards the loud kitchen and grabbed for a cup and bottle of whatever booze was nearby. I blindly grabbed for a bottle of Grey Goose and dumped it into the cup, no mixer, no chaser. 

“First off,” Spencer’s voice came from beside me. I looked up at him and took a long sip of vodka. “You shouldn’t be taking drinks from people at a party,” he spoke, taking the cup from me. I looked up at him, then the bottle and a new cup. I was only a little annoyed that he took my drink. 

“I… I’m young. I’m not dumb,” I grabbed a new cup and poured more vodka. I looked up at him and offered him a sip. “I know not to drink something given to me by someone I don’t know.” I scoffed before taking another long sip. I cringed a bit at how strong it was.

“Even then someone could slip something into a drink! Even if you did know them!” Spencer exclaimed, causing the surrounding people to turn and look at us. I dropped my shoulders as I looked up at him. 

“If you look around, Spencer, you’re the only person that I know. So unless you’re the one slipping something into my drink… And, as an FBI agent… I don’t think you would,” I cocked my head to my shoulder. Spencer looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “You have more to say,” I added before taking a sip of my drink.

"And, secondly, you're not as innocent as I had originally thought you were," he watched as I brought the cup of straight vodka to my lips. He looked rather unamused with my talent for drinking straight vodka.

"You thought I was innocent?" I asked, nearly sputtering the liquid with my laughter. "Please! I've never been innocent in my entire life!" I shouted over the music. He raised an eyebrow at my statement, and suddenly I had the greatest idea in the world. "But maybe, just for you, I'll be a good girl," I smiled before drinking the rest of my drink in one go. Spencer looked down at me, his lips pressed into a fine as he stared down at me. Ohh, that definitely awoken something in him. I bit back my smile with my offer. Innocent… He thinks I’m innocent. Ha! I honestly don’t remember the last time I was innocent. And, honestly, just for him… I’d be an innocent, good, little girl for Spencer Reid any day, every day even. “I can be your good, innocent little girl,” I smiled at him and cocked my head.

"I don't… I don't think that'd be… appropriate," he spoke, his words very quiet. We both knew that even though it was inappropriate, we both wanted it. We both knew what we wanted to. 

I glanced at him before pouring more drink for myself. "You should learn to pace yourself," he stated and changed the subject. He nervously looked at the bottle of vodka and then around the room at all the other people drinking. Or, he was just looking for a drink that wasn’t booze. Did he actually want to keep me safe, or was I just overreading him?     

"It's a college party, Professor! I'm not going to pace myself!" I shouted just to get his attention back to me. His head shot back down to me. The level of concern on his face only made me feel a little bad, mostly because he was concerned for me. But, he should know… This is a college party.  “Do you want some?” I asked, offering my drink to him again. I held it up to him, close to his lips. His face twisted up as soon as the scent of pure vodka hit his nose.

“No, no thanks,” he held up at hand to block the cup from his face. I pouted before bringing it to my lips. “Do you usually come to parties,” he asked, his eyes darting around the room. Part of me wondered if he wanted to continue that question with “Like this?” But,  I was too busy keeping my eyes on his face, rather than looking around the room like he was. Although, I’m sure he was used to keeping an eye on his surroundings. I’ve never been too worried about it, I probably should… But hey, you only live once. Going to college parties with your 38-year-old professor, and drinking straight vodka, and not really caring about your surroundings proves my point of YOLO.

“If I don’t have class or anything to study for… Yep,” I looked up at him with a sneaky smile. The joke with that was his particular class had a test coming up soon, and I should be studying for it. He knew that too because he just announced the test this morning. Although, he did come to my home, to help me with said test. “But, I wouldn't show up to his class hungover. It’d disappoint him too much. And, he’d care too much about me to even focus on the rest of the class,” I spoke, answering the questions he was thinking. It’s not like I’ve shown up to classes hungover before. Granted, I’ve never shown up to his class drunk or hungover. Mostly because I didn’t want to disappoint him, and only him. Anyone and everyone else can go blow themselves.

“How do you know that?” Spencer asked, looking back at me with furrowed eyebrows. I smiled and stepped closer to him.  

“How do I know what?” I cocked my head to my shoulder. I already knew what he meant by his question, but… I think teasing him and messing with him is fun. And, he knew that too.

“How do you know that you’d disappoint him?” he looked down at me, pressing his chin to his chest to get a better look at me. His hands were away from me, even though I really wanted his hands anywhere on me. I looked over at my hand and the cup I held before bringing it to my lips. I took a long sip, trying to finish the contents in one go. I tossed the cup over my shoulder and looked up at him with a lazy smile.

“Because being hungover, with the slight possibility of still being drunk, would totally disappoint him… And I would hate to disappoint him.” I whispered and shook my head. Spencer looked down at me with something in his eyes, and I loved the way he looked at me. “I told you, Professor, I’d be a good girl for you,” I cocked my head to my shoulder and smiled, “And only for you,”

“You’re drunk,” he pointed out an obvious fake statement. So, I cackled and shook my head.

“I had one drink,” I scoffed and waved off my in the air, “Most definitely not enough to get me drunk,” I flattened his tie out before gripping it tightly, “Like I said, I wouldn’t want to disappoint you,” I smiled before dropping my hand from his tie, “So, why would I show up to your class… Hungover…? I know you’d care… And I know it’d disappoint you. That’s the last thing I want to do to you,”  

Spencer’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed roughly. He quickly looked between me and the room, then back at me, then around the room. I faked a yawn before looking away from him.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay, Professor?” I smoothed out his jacket before turning and leaving him alone in the kitchen. I smiled as I skipped away from him, my skirt swishing with my movement. I secretly hoped he’d follow me. But, a quick glance over my shoulder told me he was still in the kitchen.

However, when I finished my business and left the bathroom, Spencer was leaning against the wall right beside the door. I looked up at him and smiled. 

“Follow me,” he muttered, grasping my wrist and pulling me down the various halls and past multiple groups of people. I giggled the harder his grasp grew on me and the faster he moved. I’m happy people were too busy with themselves to notice a 30-something-year-old man was dragging a 20-something-year-old girl down the hall, to which I can assume was one of the only open bedrooms. Fuck… I hope it's a bedroom. 

He was a man on a mission. Not letting anyone get in his way. The smile that grew on my lips was pure excitement. I couldn’t help it. I’m sure we’re both getting what we wanted… I hope.

I let out an excited yelp when he shoved me into, exactly what I thought, an empty bedroom. I’m surprised he knew that there’d be an empty room. Most of them are occupied, with couples (or more) doing exactly what I hope we’re about to do. Which was fuck each other.

Spencer slammed the door shut, and quickly locked it before pushing me against it. I looked up at him and giggled like a fucking kid in a candy store. Again, I couldn’t help it. 

Spencer was quiet, which led me to be quiet. The air in between us quickly grew hot and tense and thick. I really wanted this to move faster, but I wanted him to be the one in charge. I was willing to let this be slow and let him be in charge. So, when he grabbed both my wrists and held them above my head, I smiled so hard my cheeks began to hurt.

“Tell me what you want,” Spencer’s voice was low and deep as he moved close to me. There was little to no space between us. Which left little to the imagination, for me anyway. 

I looked up at him, with the biggest doe eyes I could muster, silently telling him that I wanted the most, in the entire world, was to be on my knees, with his hand tangled in my hair, and his cock down my throat, or to be fucked so hard that I won’t be able to sit properly for several days. But, I couldn’t be that blunt. You gotta play up to that moment before you get it. I’m sure in the end though, I’ll get both things.

I swallowed roughly, trying to think of what to say, because, like I said, I can’t just be blunt yet. So, when I opened my mouth and words just came out, I was pleasantly surprised with what was said. “You’re old enough to be my father, Professor,” I smiled at him as he pinned me against the door. He pressed his hips against mine to keep me against the surface. I could feel a large bulge against my inner thigh, causing me to shiver. “Does that mean I get to call you daddy,” I whispered as I looked up at him through my eyelashes. He is the one who said I could call him whatever I wanted… And he did just ask me what I wanted, and I guess I wanted to call him ‘Daddy’. There was no guessing about him.

Okay, he wasn't exactly old enough to be my father. But he was a lot older than me. Most 20-something-year-olds aren't sleeping with men 15 years older than them… and most 20-something-year-olds aren't sleeping with their professor… I just wanted an excuse to call him 'Daddy'. And he knew that too. So, if we gave each other an excuse for that to happen, then that was all I needed.

I dropped my head to my shoulder to allow him to attack the space on my neck. He dragged his nose across my jawbone before stilling. His lips were just over my neck. As his breathing got heavier, it tickled across my skin. 

“That does have a nice ring to it,” Spencer hummed as he dropped my hands and stepped away from me. I swallowed roughly as I stared at him. I missed having his body pressed against mine, and he knew that. 

I looked at him as I brought my hands to his belt. "I thought you said this wasn't appropriate, Daddy," I whispered as I quickly undid the belt buckle, without looking. I almost couldn’t move fast enough to unbutton and zip his pants. If he wanted me to stop, he would have stopped me by now. “Can I?” I looked up at him, a plea in my eyes.

"You've changed my mind," he muttered, watching me with such close intent, “God, please keep going,” he spoke like if I did stop now he’d probably die. I looked up at him as I slipped my hand into the waistband of his boxers. He hissed as my fingers brushed against his cock. A small smile grew on my lips. 

“Didn’t take much convincing,” I smiled as my fingers wrapped around him. A small groan fell from his lips as I looked up at him. When I pulled my hand away from him not even a moment later, he looked down at me with an alarmed expression on his face. I quickly spat on my palm before sticking my hand down his pants. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?” I whispered as I slowly stroked up and down his length. I couldn’t believe it was actually happening. 

“I’ve wanted this since you stepped foot in my classroom,” his voice was low and gravely as he spoke. My breathing picked up a little bit as I looked up at him. 

Okay… Maybe he did know how long I’ve wanted this. Because I also wanted this the second I stepped into his lecture hall. I wanted his cock in my hands and his hand around my throat. It only took-what, five months for this? I’ll make it worth the wait. 

“Does that feel good,” I whispered, carefully picking up speed and adding the slightest bit of pressure in my grip. Spencer’s eyes fluttered shut as he swallowed roughly and nodded. I smiled before pulling my hand away from him, again. I slowly lowered to my knees and kept my eyes on his face. 

Spencer looked down at him as he gently pushed his fingers through my hair. His fingers gripping hard on my roots before pulling hard. I smiled before very slowly pulling down his slacks and boxers in one go. I was only a little bit intimidated by his size, but the excitement I felt went straight to my core. 

I took a deep breath and swallowed roughly before looking up at him. My mouth fell open, and my tongue stuck out, silently telling him that it was okay. Although I don’t really know why I was telling him that it was okay, we both knew what we wanted, and it was only going to take me doing one thing.

I made eye contact with him as I ran my tongue on the side of his cock. Our eye contact didn’t last long, mostly because he let out a moan and dropped his head back. I smiled as I licked across his tip. A sweet and salty taste was on my tongue. 

My jaw fell slack as I carefully took his length into my mouth. I closed my lips around him before slowly bobbing my head, with my tongue swirling around the underside of his cock. I wrapped a hand around what wouldn’t fit into my mouth. And wrapped my free arm around his leg for support.

The sounds of his moans and grunts filled the mostly quiet room. Music, although muffled through the walls and door, could still be heard from outside of our own world behind the door and four walls.

“You were right,” he struggled to speak through groans, “You aren’t as innocent as I thought,” Spencer's hand had a rough hold in my hair as he held me against him. His cock was penetrating my throat, and breathing was beginning to get difficult. My eyes grew wet and tears grew in the corners of my eyes. 

“You’re such a good girl,” he looked down at me as the tears started to roll down my cheeks. I wouldn’t be surprised if my makeup started smudging and I looked like an adolescent raccoon. “You look so pretty with my cock down your throat,” he struggled to let out a coo, before moving his hips closer to my face. 

Everything about this moment, his hand in my hair, the sounds he was making, the way he smelled, being here… Was intoxicating. I’d give anything to be in this moment again. And I’d give anything to get this moment sooner.

 My knees would hate me in the morning, I just know it. I could already sense the dreaded carpet burn before he even started. But, in all honesty, it’d be worth it. Walking into class tomorrow morning, with bruises and day-old wounds on my knees, just to see his expression.

As I began to pick up pace, the sounds Spencer was making started to become more urgent, easily telling me he was close. But, before he could finish, I pulled away from him, crashing into the wall to get away from his grasp. He looked down at me with a mild frustration on his face. I smiled before wiping my chin clean of spit. 

“I guess chivalry is dead. Whatever happened to ladies first?” I asked, my voice a rasp from how raw my throat was. I looked up at him, feeling a certain level of sass grow in my smile. Spencer quickly tucked himself back into his pants before grabbing my hand. 

“Come on, on your feet,” he muttered as he pulled me back up to a standing position. I nearly toppled over into him if he didn’t hold me upright. I looked up at him and smiled. 

“Bed… Now?” I whispered, my tone showing how urgent I was. It’s not that I wanted this over with, it's that I wanted everything to happen to me all at once, and I wanted it to last for a long time. 

Spencer nodded before cupping my face in his hands. He was harsh when he pressed his lips to mine, like his life depended on it, if he did kiss me now the world would end. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he started guiding me towards the bed. And when the edge of the bed hit the back of my legs, he pushed me back onto it. I quickly moved so my head was resting on the pillows. Spencer was quick to take his cardigan off and be over me. 

“You’re not going to fail me, are you,” I joked as he quickly started leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on my neck. He lifted his head and looked down at me with confusion on his face. “If I’m a bad fuck,”

“If you ask that again, or bring up class while we’re doing this… Then yes,” he muttered as he looked at me. I laughed as I pushed my fingers through his hair. 

“Oh, shut up,” I laughed as I pulled him down to kiss him, again. One of his hands landed on top of my breast, carefully kneading it, causing me to moan into his mouth. 

His hand slowly drifted away from my chest. I pressed my head into the pillow and looked up at him with a smirk. He carefully dragged his fingers up from my chest to the base of my neck, causing me to let out a shaky gasp. I wanted fingers and a hand around my neck, carefully cutting off my airway just right. Suddenly, I never wanted something so badly in my life. Something dark flashed in his eyes as he looked down at me like he knew what I was about to say. 

“Do it… I fucking dare you,” I muttered, placing both my hands around his wrist. My nose twitched as I stared at him. “I said fucking do it,” I spat, pushing his hand down more onto my neck. My words slowly got cut off as the pressure in his hand and fingers tightened around my neck. A moan struggled to escape me, but did eventually fall from my lips. He seemed pretty happy with that.

“Is that good,” his voice was a growl. I looked at him and moaned.

“Harder,” I begged, my voice growing raspier the more I spoke. He smirked before allowing his grip to tighten. His other hand was still sitting on top of my hips, and I could tell where he wanted to put it. I’d be a dirty, rotten liar if I didn’t want his hand up my skirt. In fact, I’d love it if he did more than just his hand. 

Spencer swallowed roughly before finally sneaking a hand up my skirt and resting it on my underwear. My grip around his wrist got tighter as he pushed past my underwear and past my folds. My eyes fluttered closed as another moan was strangled in my throat. 

“You’re so wet,” he purred as he slowly moved a finger around my clit. I looked up at him, as I struggled to swallow roughly. A dark smirk grew on his lips as he watched me struggle for a moment. “Does that feel good,” he asked, mildly mocking me from earlier. His movements picked up speed just a little bit, and my body reacted, well tried to react. 

“Oh, you’re such a good girl,” he looked down at me. His pupils were so blown I could nearly see my reflection in them. “Another thing you were right about,” he whispered as he slipped a finger into my entrance, and curled it just right. My vision slowly blurred before my eyes rolled into the back of my head. Another moan struggled to escape my throat as Spencer added a second finger. 

My body was on autopilot as I lifted my hand and hit his wrist a few times, telling him that I desperately needed to breathe. When I reopened my eyes, I looked up at him a moment before he removed his hand from my neck. Worry and concern flashed in his eyes as I breathed. Air burned like fire in my lungs as I took a deep breath. As I exhaled a loud moan followed behind, easily telling Spencer and I that I had reached my first orgasm of the night. I just hope there will be more... 

“You did such a good job, Princess,” Spencer whispered as he looked down at me. With his free hand, he brushed the tears away from my cheeks. He carefully withdrew his hand from between my legs and held them up to his face. He looked at them for a moment before placing them in his mouth, sucking and licking them clean. I took a shaky breath and nodded. 

He very sloppily pressed his lips to mine, then on the corner of my lips, and down my jaw, and neck. With one quick movement, a loud rip filled the room, as he tore my shirt off my body. I looked up at him with shock in my eyes. To be fair, that shirt was flimsy, to begin with. I was more worried about leaving my chest so exposed as we left the party. 

“Oh, I’ll give you my sweater,” Spencer muttered before attacking my neck and then down to my collarbones, and over my breasts. I gasped as he wrapped his lips around a nipple.

“Mmm, Daddy,” I whimpered as I shifted under him. I brought my hands back up to his hair, tangling my fingers in the hairs on his neck. When he sensed that I was growing restless (even though he just started), he quickly left wet kisses down the rest of my body

“I like the way that sounds coming from your mouth,” he whispered once he was in between my legs. I looked down at him just as he looked up at me. “Good on your end for wearing such a short skirt,” he smiled before pressing his lips to my inner thigh. A shaky breath tumbled from my lips as I looked at him. “Makes for easier access,” he added before going higher up on my leg.

“You’re not going fast enough,” I whined as he just kept kissing, or licking, or rubbing my inner thighs. It was honestly getting annoying. I kind of felt bad for him. Considering I’ve already cum once, and I got him close but didn’t let him finish. 

“I’m not going fast enough?” Spencer looked up at me. I shot him a scowl as I shifted slightly on the bed. Spencer looked back down the apex of my legs before looping two fingers around the band of my underwear. As soon as I lifted my hips, he pulled my underwear off my body and chucked them to the ground beside the bed. “How’s this for fast enough,” he muttered, mostly to himself, before licking between my folds. A breath of air got caught in my lungs as my hands found their way to his hair, my fingers getting knotted up in his roots. 

“Mhm, Spencer,” I gasped, rolling my hips up at him. He hummed, sending vibrations straight to my core. My legs wrapped around him, my heels digging into his back as my own back arched. 

“Ohh, Daddy, please don’t stop,” I cried, pressing my head into the pillow beneath my head. My fingers pulled hard on his hair, pulling him closer to me. He hummed again as he pushed two fingers back into my entrance. My grip in his hair tightened, and I could feel my grip wanting to loosen. 

My breathing picked up as a familiar feeling grew in my stomach. And all I could say was his name, and the suddenly loved nickname I had for him. He seemed to appreciate my reaction too, because he worked faster. Messy and wet sounds, mixed with my breathy moans and calls of his name filled the room, and my end was near. 

“Fuck,” I shouted as I finally came undone. I could sense if I didn’t pull him away, he’d keep going, and going till I couldn’t take it anymore. And, honestly, that sounds great, but I think that’s for next time. I wanted him in me now. “Spencer, Spencer,” I cried as I tried to pull his head away, but failed so hard.

“Nuh huh,” he hummed, looking up at me. I took a deep breath and pressed my head into the pillow beneath me and threw an arm over my face. “Please, Spencer,” I cried as I bucked my hips at him, “Fuck me, please, fuck me, Daddy,” I moaned. He was going faster than before and was clearly trying to work me to the end faster too. It was hard to breathe, and speak because my words would just get stuck in my throat.  

Although, when I did cum, again, for the third time tonight, Spencer did move away from my legs. He knelt between them, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. My body was shaking lightly as I tried to come down from my high.

“Please,” I whispered, lifting a hand up, trying to reach for his tie. He looked down at me with a smile and raised an eyebrow.

“Please what?”

“Please, Daddy,” I furrowed my eyebrows as I spoke. I could feel my voice becoming a little whiney. Spencer moved so he was hovering over me, his fingers gently brushing hair away from my face.

“Tell me what you want, Princess,” he whispered cupping my face in his hand. I looked up at his face, admiring his lips, and eyes, and nose, and the way his lips had a sheen from when he licked them clean and whatever was leftover from when he was eating me out. 

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” I begged, begged. Spencer smiled before pressing his lips to mine for a moment. He sat up away from me to remove his sweater and shirt. My head was spinning from excitement, I didn’t even notice that he was totally undressed.

Spencer was back between my legs, looking down at me like I truly belonged right here. Or, like I was his to fuck with. Either way it was a good feeling. 

“Ready?” He asked, his voice so low that I could hardly hear it over the bass of the loud music. I rapidly nodded my head, worried my answer was the wrong one. But it wasn’t. I desperately wanted this. Needed. I needed this. 

Spencer hovered over me before putting an opened mouth kiss on my lips. I could hardly breathe as he rubbed the tip of his cock against my clit and entrance. I could feel a moan getting caught in the middle of my throat, my body not being about to handle anymore teasing. Until, he very slowly pushed into me.

“Oh, good girl,” he repeated. Those two words, constantly coming off his tongue. Making me feel good. The praise that I hadn’t heard in such a long time, that I longed for. Part of me wondered if he knew I wanted it. “Has someone not been taking care of you?” he asked, looking down at me. I stared at him, not trusting my own voice. My mind was too distracted with the way I felt, light and airy but at the same time full. So I shook my head.

“No, Daddy,” I whimpered and kept shaking my head. Spencer smiled before pressing his lips to mine. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you now. I’ll take care of you,” he mumbled before moving his hips. It took him a moment to get a perfect rhythm. He lips attached to different spots on my neck, leaving hickies in his wake.

“Spencer,” I whispered as I moved my head closer to my shoulder to let him have more space.

“You feel so good,” he grunted as he moved his hips so he was deeper in me, “You feel so good, and you’re all mine,” he pressed his forehead to mine as he wrapped his arms around my lower back, pulling me closer up to him. My breathing got deep, my chest heaving with each breath I took. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down, closer to my face. 

“Oh, be quiet,” I whispered before putting my lips on his. He smiled before passing his tongue between my lips. A moan fell from my lips, which he seemed to enjoy… Considering it was probably just music to his ears. 

“I’ll only be quiet if you keep making those little noises,” he muttered against my lips. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He smiled again as I knotted my fingers in the hair on the back of his head. 

“Faster,” I breathed out, keeping my eyes on him. Spencer laughed lightly as he picked up the speed. My hips bucked with his, meeting at the right points. “Please,” I whimpered as I threw my head back more into the pillow. He pulled his arm away from my back and brought his hand between our legs, where we met. 

“It’s okay, Little Girl,” Spencer whispered before pressing his lips to the side of my face. I let out a shaky breah and arched my body into his. I couldn’t believe how good I felt. I almost wasn’t sure if it was fair that my professor was better in bed than other men my age. He was more experienced, to be fair. “You can finish, it’s okay,” he kept his voice low. It almost sounded like he was giving me permission.

I nodded my head, breathing heavily through my nose. “Mmm, Spencer,” I moaned, loudy, as my walls fluttered around him and my release came. And a few moments later, Spencer thrusted deep into me with a grunt, filling me with his essence. His body collapsed on top of me whence he finished.

“Fuck,” I muttered, my fingers still tangled in his hair. My limbs were sore and shaking slightly from the rough movements. Spencer laughed lightly, agreeing with my statement. “We can’t sleep here,” I whispered, keeping my eyes on the ceiling above us. I wished we could just sleep here, mostly because I was exhausted after everything we did.

“I know,” Spencer replied as he slowly moved off and away from me. I looked up at him with wide eyes. “You’re messy now,” he muttered as he basically tumbled off the bed. I quickly sat up, just to make sure he was okay. Although I was happy he was okay, I quickly regretted moving as fast as I did. 

“Your sweater,” I mumbled, reaching out towards where his sweater was lying. He looked down at it before picking it up to hand to me. He also grabbed a fistful of tissues and moved to between my legs, again. “Just give me your boxers,” I looked at him as he wiped the insides of my thighs clean. He looked back up at me, still cleaning my legs. 

“I’ll give you a ride home,” he spoke as he tossed the dirty tissues to the trash. He grabbed his slacks and boxers, tossing me his boxers. I slipped them on under my skirt, and then slipped his sweater on. 

“I’d hope so,” I whispered as I stood up. My body wobbled for a second, nearly falling over, before I caught my balance. Spencer looked back at me, looking at how fucked I looked. I mean, I probably looked about the same as him. 

“I’d given you a ride home either way,” he said as he redressed. I looked at him with confusion on my face. Either way? So even if we hadn’t had sex, he would have given me a ride. I asked him and he said yes. So I would hope he’d given me a ride, even if we didn’t fuck.

Once we were both ready to leave this stupid party, that I didn’t even enjoy (well, I did, I was just in a different world), or was even invited to, we walked out. It was as easy as pie. And, since no one really knew either of us were here, I won’t be known as the girl who fucked the professor.

The drive home was quiet. Like, even quieter than the drive here. He didn’t even have the music playing. I wondered if it was my fault, if he was regretting what we had done. If I had known he’d be so regretful, I wouldn’t have wanted to fuck him. But, I guess its too late now. 

When I looked out the window, I realized we were parked outside my apartment building. I looked down at my attire and looked back at Spencer.

“Thanks… Thanks for the ride… And thanks for the sweater. I’ll be sure to give it back to you… Eventually,” I looked up at Spencer as I pulled the door open to leave.

“See you Thursday,” he nodded at me. I looked at him before slamming the door shut. I scoffed before turning to walk up to my home. I couldn’t want to sleep.

{***}{***}{***}

Two weeks. Two weeks since Spencer and I fucked. Okay, not too bad. I don’t regret it, and I’m not afraid to say that. However, I think he might be regretting it. Considering he’d been nothing but ignoring me since the night of the par-Well, I wouldn’t say ignoring me since then. He did fuck me in his office the following Thursday. But, it’s still been two weeks since he last said anything to me. Fuck, I’ve never been so mad.

“Good morning, Professor Reid,” I looked at him as I skipped into his lecture hall. I heard his words begin to greet me back, but fail when he saw what I was wearing. “Best get to my seat. Excited for today’s lesson,” I readjusted the cardigan that hung off my shoulders before turning to go to my seat. 

I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my skull as I walked away from him. Or, was he staring at my ass. Most likely my ass. It was my ass he was staring at. I was wearing a fairly short skirt, so that’s on me. But, I’d do anything to get his attention today. And it would appear I have gotten it. 

His lesson wasn’t actually anything important. It was just revision for the test coming up soon. But, it was obvious he had other things on his mind, and I was very clearly one of them. It was honestly a little distracting if I’m going to be honest.

So, I was happy when he called the end of class 5 minutes early. Although that excitement was gone the second he called my name to the front to talk. I looked at the ground as I stood by his desk, waiting for the very last person to leave so Spencer and I could have our moment alone.

“What are you doing wearing that?” Spencer asked as soon as it was just us. I tried to ignore the fact that he was trying to take the sweater off me, and made my shoulders drop.

“What? This old thing?” I asked, pulling the cardigan that he let me wear around my body. I looked back at him and smiled. He was not smiling. “You gave it to me,” I scoffed, letting him take it off me without a fight. I watched as he folded it over the back of the chair before turning to face me. 

“I gave it to you so your,” his words began to get jumbled up as he gestured to my boobs, “So you weren’t exposed in front of any-”

“So no one would see what belonged to you?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest. Spencer looked down at me, a flabbergasted look on his face. I smiled and cocked my head to my shoulder.

“I… I never said that,” Spencer shook his head.

“Yeah, but you thought it,” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Spencer looked down at me. I could tell that he was trying to be the one in charge, kinda like how he was the other night. But it was so, so clear that he couldn’t be in charge. That he wouldn’t be in charge now. That this was just embarrassing to him. Maybe that’s just how our dynamic would work. Out in public, I was the loud one, the one who made everyone think that I was in charge in the bedroom. And, Spencer, in public, was the quiet, shy, nervous one, who was clearly submissive in bed. But in actuality, he was telling me what to do, when and when I can’t cum.

 “Why were you wearing that?” he asked again, his voice pulling me from my very dirty thoughts. I looked up at him and smiled.

“Because you were ignoring me! I needed to get your attention somehow! And then I remembered I still had that,” I smiled at him. I wished I still had his sweater on, because it was actually quite cozy and warm. The look he gave me made me drop my shoulders, suddenly feeling ashamed about the current situation. So, I stared at him, feeling annoyed. More annoyed than I have over the last two weeks. “Do you regret it?” I finally asked, not really knowing if he’d be mad with my question. 

“Pardon me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at me. I shook my head and looked down at the ground. “It’s not that I regret it-”

“So you do,” I looked back up at him and dropped my shoulders again. Before Spencer got the chance to say anything, I cut him off, “Oh please, you loved shoving your tongue, and cock, down my throat,” I scoffed before looking at him. The expression on his face flinched slightly as he looked back at me from behind the desk. “I get to… I get to be your good, little girl, your princess for, what, a week? A day? 12 hours? Whenever the fuck you want... And I’m supposed to go back to normal life the next day? And… And pretend that nothing happened!” I stared at him and shook my head. Spencer looked over at the door and back at me. “Thinking it’ll never happen again!” I shouted. I didn’t mean to shout, honest. But I was starting to get angry. He made me feel something like I belonged to someone. And now I don’t feel like that. 

“Will you stop talking for a second,” he muttered before stepping away from me and his desk. He walked over to the door and shut it. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched as he walked back over to me. “I never said you had to pretend as if nothing happened. And I never said that I regret it,” he spoke in a harsh whisper. I looked at him with mild irritation on my face.

“It sure fucking felt like it,” I spat at him. 

“You’re all I think about… Christ, I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that. I never said you had to forget everything… Because I’ve been having a hard time forgetting it myself.” He looked up at me. I almost refused to look at him, but his voice was so soft that I had to look at him. “I never expected you to forget,” he added. 

“Then why are you acting like it didn’t happen,” I stared at him before swallowing roughly, “You made me feel like I was wanted, that I belonged somewhere, with someone,” I spoke as I stepped closer to him. It was only a little bit closer to him, not as much as I wanted. But he stepped closer to me, making it so we were the closest we had been all day, in one large step. "You remind me of home," I added in a whisper. Spencer smiled and cocked his head to his shoulder.

“You do belong somewhere,” he whispered, resting his hands on my shoulders. I looked up at him, feeling my heart pick up speed, and butterflies appear in my tummy. “And that somewhere is with me,” he brought at hand to my cheek, allowing his thumb to rest on my lower lip. I looked up at him before he pressed his lips to mine. 

I was honestly expecting him to say something else. I don’t know what. But I liked what he said, it made me feel really good. Like, I belonged with him, and nothing could change that.

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​, @thebluetint​

[enigmainvestigations]

**The events of this mini-episode take place after the events in Season 1, episode 12. AO3 post: ???    Series link: ???

Season 1 Mini-Episode - The Most Dangerous Enemy

The bats above him screeched as he exited the Batmobile. The engine’s rumbling always agitated them, but by the time he’d climbed the steps up to the large computer tucked into one of the cave crevices, the bats had started to quiet down. Batman entered his personal code on the keyboard and pressed his hand into the handprint identification reader next to it. The computer turned on with a lazy hum, and the area was flooded with the red light emitting from the multiple screens as they flickered on.

After a few agonizing minutes, a message popped up on one of the screens. Batman leaned forward on the computer console and pressed the authorization key to download the file. Oracle had finished her search of the city records -- lightning fast, as usual. After a few more impatient moments, the files popped up on the screen and he typed in the code for the computer to begin analysing the information. He scowled as he saw the results of her investigation; with this amount of data, it was going to take a lengthy amount of time for the interface to complete the search. It seemed he was in for a long night, again.

In the distance he heard a motorcycle approaching, followed by the sound of the south entrance’s door rising out of the water. The bats stirred once more, and by the time the bike had pulled up to its platform, they were in full upset. The sound of footsteps filled the cave behind him, followed by a drawn-out yawn from his partner. Then Robin appeared beside him, and the teenager’s attention immediately fell on the screen before him, scanning the information.

“Wow. That was fast.” Robin said.

“She’s good at what she does.” Batman responded, continuing to watch the slow progress of the analysis.

“Good? I thought you said she’s the best?”

“She is.”

Robin smirked. “Any more information on Two-Face?”

“He went off the grid again.”

“We really need to figure out how he’s doing that.” Robin said, stretching.

“He’s avoiding any of his previous connections. It just makes it more difficult to follow him, but not impossible.”

“I don’t blame him, but he’s not just avoiding his friends. He keeps vanishing. He’s figured out some way to disappear right under our noses.”

“As long as we get to his next target before he does he won’t have time to vanish.”

“If you say so.” Robin rested his staff against the side of the computer. “Has he let anything slip about why he’s targeting the locations?”

“No. But the computer will find the connection.”

“You still think he’s doing all of this because he was locked up during the attacks?”

Batman didn’t look at his partner, but the muscles in his neck clenched. “Yes.”

“All of this chaos, just because he feels emasculated,” Robin said in a huff.

“It’s more complicated than that, Robin.”

“Doesn’t sound like it is.”

At that, Batman decided to drop the conversation. Robin was right: it was a childish and emotional reaction, but those are some of the most dangerous ones. And with all the damage he was causing, it sounded wrong to trivialize Dent’s motives, and the subject had started to make him uncomfortable. Robin took the hint and wandered off for a time, eventually returning with a large glass of water -- which he downed half of right away.

Batman eyed him briefly, then resumed his impatient glare at the screens. “You’re back early again.” Robin grumbled in response and finished the rest of his water. Batman decided to continue with his assumptions. “Nigma kicked you out again, didn’t he.”

“Actually, no. I had a normal departure this evening.”

“Why did you call Batgirl to his apartment?”

Robin paused. “We’ll have to talk about that in a minute. I’m currently waiting for an update from her.”

“I thought you were calling for back-up.”

“No, no, it’s not that. Nigma hasn’t escalated to throwing fists or anything foolish like that. He was… actually pretty decent tonight. Bizarre, but decent.”

Batman watched as the computer began segmenting some of the data to one of the other screens, and he leaned forward to give it a brief read. “Bizarre?”

“Yeah. I’ll explain it all to you in a minute.” Noticing Batman’s brief look of impatience, Robin said, “I’m just testing a theory. I’d like to have that answered before I delve into all of this.”

“After what happened the last time, I’m surprised you went back.” Batman admitted.

Robin ruffled his wind-beaten hair. “Not going to lie, that thought did enter my mind. But, hopefully, a dramatic scene like that won’t happen again.”

“Why is that?” Batman asked, reading over more of the segments the computer found in the documents. It looked like his theory that Dent was targeting his previous associates was holding true, and if it was, it shouldn’t be too difficult to predict his next hit.

“I set up some boundaries with him.” Robin said in another yawn.

Batman paused. He pushed himself off of the computer console and stared directly at his partner. Robin looked startled by the attention, confusion clear on his face. “What?” he asked, but Batman just continued with his unnerving stare.

“What?” Robin asked again. “You're looking at me like I said something stupid.”

“You… set up boundaries, with Nigma?” Batman tried to clarify.

“Yes.”

Batman frowned. “What kind of boundaries? Personal boundaries?”

“Yes.” Robin drew out the word as he said it, and Batman returned to his silent stare. His partner let out a huff in confusion, “Why, what? Stop looking at me like that, you're freaking me out.”

“What were these boundaries?”

“Just -- normal human boundaries.” Robin could tell that answer just upset his partner more and elaborated. “I told him to stop taking out his frustrations on me. That I wasn’t going to put up with that anymore. I explained it in a way I think he understood, that it was stalling the investigation and it’s a complete waste of time. He seemed to understand.”

“And Nigma agreed to adhere to your boundaries?”

“Yeah.” Robin answered, and as Batman returned to staring, the boy hissed. “Stop looking at me like that, you're making me think I made some sort of mistake.”

“No, Robin. That's not it -- it's... continue.”

Robin gave an animated shrug. “There isn't much else to add.”

Batman’s frown deepened. “You're telling me, you set up an expectation to be treated fairly by Nigma and he agreed to your terms? And that was it?”

Robin made a slight grimace. “Well, that sounds nicer than what actually happened. He was still a huge jerk about it.”

“What did he say?”

“He made the insinuation that I was expecting him to cater to my every whim, y’know, instead of just treating me like a person. I asked him to stop being so dramatic about it, and -- he did look angry about that -- but, he agreed, and then he wanted to change the subject. That’s about it.”

Batman began the stare again, but his partner hurried to set down his empty glass as Batgirl’s voice came through on their earpieces saying: “B2 to R.”

“Go ahead, Steph.” Robin replied.

“Well, he didn’t stay inside.” Batgirl reported, triggering a grunt from Robin as she spoke. “But all he did was go down to the bar next door. Then he went back inside his office. But, now we have another problem.”

“Great, what now?” Robin asked.

“Harley showed up. She went up to his place, but they’re not screaming at each other like last time. And,” Batgirl stressed that word, “there’s a car parked across from his building now.”

Batman looked at Robin, who gritted his teeth. “Great. Are they just watching him? They’re probably looking out for you, so stay out of sight.”

“No worries there, Boy Wonder. They haven’t seen me, and they look kinda spooked. I think they’d be more scared to see me up here, think they’d just run off.”

“Don’t chance it.” Robin said, and Batgirl sighed.

“Stop pestering me, I’m not so green anymore.”

“Stay out of sight, Batgirl.” Batman cut in, and the two adolescents went quiet.

“Will do. I’ll keep you posted on any developments.” Batgirl responded, before the line went silent once more.

Batman turned to face Robin, now giving him his full attention, only barely registering the computer’s blips as it continued its analysis.

“Bizarre.” Batman said.

Robin blinked. “What?”

“You said he was acting bizarre.”

“Oh.” Robin gave a brief nod. “Yeah, but, like I said, I kind of get why.” His partner took a deep breath and leaned against the computer stand, signaling this was going to be a long discussion. “Remember how Nigma went nuts on me the last time?” Seeing Batman’s confirming nod, he continued. “Apparently I was right. He was scared, and really rattled. Echo and Query are back in town.”

“I heard.”

Robin frowned at that. “Well, did you know that they’re working for Penguin?”

Batman’s white eyes narrowed into thin slits upon hearing that information. “No.”

“Yeah. And, he’s posted them outside of Nigma’s place.” The two of them exchanged a serious look before Robin spoke again. “Nigma told me that Penguin has been threatening him. Not verbally, as far as I can tell, but he’s been showing signs of it. He’s had men following him around the city, watching his every move. So, I don’t know what the hell that meeting at the Iceberg Lounge was all about, but it’s starting to look like the others are turning on him, Batman. I think we might be wrong, I don’t think they’re working together.” Robin crossed his arms, giving Batman a firm look. “He was scared, Bruce. That night, he looked terrified. I’m starting to think that if all of this ‘private investigator’ stuff is some Riddler plan, the others aren’t in on it.”

Batman slowly let out a breath through his nose. “If Oswald is targeting him then that means he knows something Oswald doesn’t want spoken about.” Batman’s gaze wandered around the cave as he thought. “Has Penguin tried to take him out, or is he just threatening?”

“Well…” Robin began, but then he paused for a moment. “This is when things get bizarre.”

Batman gave his partner an expectant look. “Go on.”

“Nigma kinda had a meltdown, at least, that’s the best way I can describe it. He let some of that wall of his drop, and he told me a lot of things that I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have under any normal circumstances.” Seeing the immediate attention Batman gave him, Robin smirked. “He said that Penguin keeps tightening the grip, so to speak. That he keeps turning up the heat but not acting on the threats. Which Nigma determined means that he doesn’t actually want Nigma dead, he’s trying to intimidate him.”

“Why?”

“He said he doesn’t know why, and I think I believe him about that. He was -- Bruce, he was completely out of his mind trying to figure it out. You should’ve seen him, talking a thousand miles a hour, talking with his hands and rambling.”

Batman pondered that information for a moment. “I can see how you’d think he was being honest. Edward has always preferred to have all the answers, that’s most likely part of Oswald’s plan.”

“Exactly.” Robin went silent, thinking over what else he needed to say. When he spoke again, he himself sounded rather bemused. “There’s another thing, well, two other things. I’m sure you’re still wondering why I called Batgirl, the thing is… Nigma told Query and Echo he’s working with us -- screamed it at them, to be more specific.” Batman’s eyes widened at that information, and Robin could see the apprehension in his expression. “Yeah. So, now the Penguin knows about this little test of yours.”

“Why?” Batman wondered. “Why did he do that?”

“That goes into the other subject, the one that makes me think it's possible he’s being truthful. He told me that he had no idea why he told them, that it just came out and he didn’t have a reason. But, that he knew somewhere in his brain there was a reason.” Seeing the look on Batman’s face, Robin chuckled. “I know the feeling, trust me. That’s really when the meltdown happened. He said that he’s been having a really tough few months, he said something about his mind attacking him all the time. That his doctor told him to be more truthful, to be honest with other people.” Robin pushed himself off of the computer stand and uncrossed his arms. “He said that he’s tried it in the past and he does feel better, so that was the solution he jumped to when he was put in such a tough spot. At least, that’s what I got from all of that rambling.”

Batman remained silent for a time, finding it difficult to believe most of that information, but his partner was right, it made sense. “He’s listening to his doctor.”

“He’s talking to his doctor.”

Batman turned away from Robin, and his gaze wandered over the cave again. He watched the water drops from the stalactites above drip onto the platform before him, listened to the humming of the computer, as he processed this new information against his theories. “This doesn’t make sense,” he muttered.

“Unless he’s actually trying to get help with something. He didn’t explain it very well, but I think he’s having flashbacks. At least, that’s what it sounded like -- kind of.”

“Nigma would know what flashbacks are.”

“True, but it is Nigma. He thinks everything he experiences is unique and one of a kind. He might not be able to see it for what it is.”

“No. I’m not buying that.” Batman’s frown deepened again. “He said his mind is attacking him?”

“Yep.”

“He used those exact words?”

“He said: My brain is usually my best friend, but now it's attacking me non-stop.” Robin let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not saying I believe everything he said, but, if this was an attempt to manipulate me, it was a very poorly orchestrated one. Most of what he said didn’t make sense,” he paused for a moment, “but, it sounded like he wasn’t talking to me.”

“He was talking to himself, just through you.” Batman added, and Robin nodded.

“Which is exactly what you said he does to you all the time. That’s why I believe it, I don’t think he was trying to convince me, he was trying to figure it out for himself.”

Batman went silent again, his gaze wandering off to look at nothing in particular. “Or he could just want you to come to that conclusion. He’s got to be up to something.”

“Well, when you figure out what it is let me know, because I can’t figure it out.” Robin was about to walk away from him, but a swift look from his partner stalled him.

“You’ve seen nothing? Heard nothing out of the ordinary while in his apartment?”

“No. I’ve told you everything, every single thing from every time I’ve seen him.”

“He has to be hiding the evidence.” Batman said, and his gaze wandered off once again.

“If he is, he’s doing a damn good job of it. That office is so small and pretty bare, and I told you, I haven’t seen any evidence that he’s hiding things in the walls or the floor. He also doesn’t really go anywhere, so I find it hard to believe he’s concocting this whole plan of his at another location.”

Batman looked back at his partner, a scowl forming on his face. “Nigma is very good at making things look a certain way to throw you off the trail. He’s good at hiding in plain sight, at using your preconceptions against you.”

Robin stared at Batman, pressing his lips together as he thought. “I get that, I do. I’m not saying I don’t think he’s planning something. All I’m saying is that I think it’s a possibility that we were wrong. All that means is that we need to start looking at it differently, maybe from a perspective we haven’t before.” He paused, taking a few deep breaths through his nose. “Bruce, he can be trying to work through something with his doctor, and planning something at the same time. It’s possible. We have no idea what happened to him on that island. He might just need some help dealing with it.”

“The idea of Nigma going to anyone for help --” Batman stopped himself; the words he was about to say felt wrong, and he forced himself to rethink his position. “Nigma thinks he has all the answers. He doesn’t feel the need to go to anyone else because they couldn’t tell him anything he doesn’t already know. That’s how he sees the world.”

“I know, that’s what you’ve always said. But, again, maybe it’s possible things have changed for him, and he’s run out of options to work on them, at least on his own?” Robin pondered out loud.

Batman’s scowl intensified. Robin wasn’t understanding the full scope of this; he needed to explain the gravity of this troubling situation. “Him going to someone for help is potentially very dangerous.”

Robin blinked. “Uh, okay? Explain that one, please.”

Batman’s back straightened, his expression turning more serious as he chose his words carefully. “If Nigma has decided to turn to a professional for help, it could mean he’s become more self-aware. It means that he’s learning, and Nigma learning new information is never a safe prospect.” Batman glanced back at the computer screen; the search of the last few files were almost complete. “I might’ve been wrong. He might have changed his tactics.”

Robin stepped closer to his side, and Batman could feel the anxiousness seeping off of him. “Mind explaining that a bit better?”

Batman returned his attention to his partner -- the boy’s expression was one of concern, but mixed with a layer of distrust. He understood why. He must sound too pessimistic in his worries, but this was a situation he’d feared would occur for a long time now, and he needed Robin to understand his reasoning. Batman looked Robin in the eye, hoping for his partner to grasp the truth behind his words. “If Nigma is breaking down his own walls and learning what his weaknesses are, it’ll make him very difficult to stop. I’ve always used the same strategy with him: exploit his vulnerabilities. No matter how much he tried to adapt to my solutions, he could never fully match up with them -- because the issue wasn’t me, it was him. He was so self-centered, so convinced he was superior that he couldn’t see the obvious holes in his logic. If he’s realized that he does have weaknesses, that his own issues are what’s been holding him back all this time, and he’s actively trying to rid himself of them --”

“Then…” Robin interjected, his expression more concerned now. “Are you saying you don’t think you’d be able to stop him?”

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

The two crime-fighters stared at each other. Robin looked surprised by the admission, but his demeanor shifted after a few moments. Batman frowned, knowing that look all too well. The boy thought he was being too dramatic and he was skeptical of the rationale.

The computer blipped beside them. It had finished its analysis, and Batman turned his attention back to the screens. Three locations popped up, one of which was a clear possibility for Dent’s next attack. Robin picked his staff back up, giving Batman an expectant look, and Batman gave him a confirming nod in agreement. As the two began to descend the stairs to the Batmobile, Batman felt an anxiousness seep into his bones. The fear of what Nigma was up to gripped him, and he hoped he would be able to rid it to focus on the current case at hand.

Robin hopped into the passenger seat, the skepticism still clear on his face. He turned on some of the trackers on the car’s console and said, “I don’t know. I know you know him better than I do, but, all of that seems way too calculated for what he’s currently doing.”

Batman climbed into the car, a low growl of disagreement escaping his lips.

“I’m serious, Batman. If he was using his doctor to make him into some unbeatable super-criminal, I doubt he’d be starving and killing his brain with alcohol.”

Batman frowned as the car’s engine revved and the bats began to shriek. “I’ll admit, I can't explain the drinking.”

Robin looked at him, his brow rising. “Really. In all your years working with criminals you've never seen someone deal with problems by hiding at the bottom of a bottle? And it'd make sense, actually, if what he's saying about the flashbacks is true…”

But Batman really didn’t want to hear anymore of Robin’s theories about the evidence. He closed the hood of the Batmobile, revved the engine to signify the end of the discussion, and as his partner readied himself in his seat, he sped off toward the cave exit. As they neared the hidden passage door, Batman decided he was more than willing to see whatever distractions Two-Face could provide for the evening. Hopefully it would be enough to get his mind off of that disturbing hint of a notion that maybe, just maybe, Robin was actually onto something.

[forthemorefortunate]

Live Like Animals

Nessian Modern AU

Merry Chris-  er, happy New Year to my secret snowflake!  @ncssian 💕😅

I hope you like the fic! I’ll be honest, when I filled out the application for the secret snowflake, I said I could make a fic believing that it was very unlikely somebody would ask for one 🥴🤔 But lemme say, I LOVED writing this, which is definitely something I didn’t expect. More than that, I’ve never been much of a Nesta or Nessian fan, but actually thinking through their characters and interactions for this fic gave me a whole new perspective on and appreciation for them (even if I’m not the best at writing their characters, aha), so thank you!

A few quick things about the fic:

(Ik I already told you this, but for anybody else reading this aha) This is my first fic! So please take it easy on me 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Okay so this part is kind of weird, but there’s kind of a corresponding playlist 😅 Each part is named after a song. You can play the songs while reading or not, I know for me personally (*cough* my ADHD ass) it’s hard to listen to music and read at the same time. The title is also the name of a song! Except that one is more random, haha (I couldn’t think of a title, so I shuffled my entire library and chose the first song as the title, and it kinda worked so I went with it)

One more quick thing – thanks to @moussescientist @ko0mbayamylord @blxckbeak @chanberry @mikitheswiftie @potatoburp @dead-on-the-inside666 @queenoffortunes and two anons for answering a question, and a HUGE thanks to Skye, @oneoutofamillionbooklovers for all your help and for roleplaying the parts I got stuck on with me ❤️

Part 1: Distant Early Warning (Rush)

Nesta pulled the dress over her head, letting it slide into place over her body. Screw this, she thought for the millionth time, yet she continued to get herself ready, turning to glance at her reflection when she was finished. She raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly at the woman looking back through the mirror. The woman Nesta spied had on a satin slip dress, darkest blue. She wore no jewelry save for the small silver studs in her ears, and her hair was pulled into a neat-yet-simple updo.

Why Nesta even agreed to go to this party she didn’t know. There was nothing different about it, just another college booze fest. The music would be too loud, the air too heavy, the guys too grabby, and the company too... clubby. Feyre insisted that she would fit right into her friend group – her clique – but Nesta wasn’t sure she wanted that. She padded over to the door of her apartment. No, Nesta was quite certain that “fitting in” with Feyre’s newfound friends was something she didn’t care for at all.

Nesta’s phone buzzed on her kitchen counter as she slipped on a pair of black heels, and she picked up to Feyre’s forcibly perky voice. “Hey! We just pulled up, you coming?”

“No.” Response blunt, tone dry. The line was silent for a long moment, and Nesta held in a sigh. “Did I give you the impression that I was interested in coming?”

“Nesta, I’m not in the mood for fucking around,” Feyre said, perkiness mysteriously faded now. “It’s just one party! I promise you’ll have fun.” Bullshit.

“Since when have I ever-”

“And everyone else really wants you to come, too!” Feyre cut her off, “Rhys is excited to meet you!”

Rhys. Feyre’s boyfriend. Nesta groaned inwardly, truly dreading any interaction with the rugby star. Feyre had immediately caught the eye of the local heartthrob, and the two began a serious relationship shortly after meeting. And with one came the others. In high school they would have been labeled “popular.” They were quite possibly the closest group of friends at the college, almost all of them having known each other since childhood. And Feyre had slipped right in among them. Nesta had warned Feyre against making the tight pack of fourth-years her main group of friends, and she had her own opinions about a freshman dating a senior, but Feyre didn’t make a habit of following Nesta’s advice. Rather, she seemed to think she could give Nesta – a third-year – much more valuable guidance. Domineering bitch.

“I don’t give a shit about your friends, Feyre. I’m only coming because of our deal,” Nesta said. Feyre had been pestering her all semester, spewing crap about how Nesta and Feyre should spend more time together. Nesta should get out more. Nesta should tag along with Feyre’s friend group. Nesta should have some fun. 

More bullshit. 

As second semester began, Feyre had proposed a deal: Nesta would go to one party with Feyre and her buddies, and if she honestly didn’t enjoy it, Feyre would stop asking her to join them. 

“I’m on my way. Let’s just get it over with,” Nesta grumbled, and with that, she hung up the phone and opened the apartment door.

Part 2: Can You Afford to Be An Individual? (Nothing but Thieves

Nesta looked around the group of fourth-years–plus Feyre–arranged in front of her. Introductions were unnecessary; you couldn’t attend this school without knowing who they were. Her eyes fell first upon Rhys, his arm around Feyre’s waist. His chin lifted slightly as she made eye contact. Rhys: double major in history and foreign policy. President of the astrology club. Captain of the rugby team, possibly one of the best players the school had ever seen. He was the group leader, though nobody said it aloud. Nesta knew him well. Perhaps she only knew his type well, or her own perception of his type, but that didn’t keep her from holding his gaze a few moments longer than would be comfortable. Then she turned her scrutiny on his sidekicks, so she called them, Cassian and Azriel. The former wore jeans and a baggy black jacket over his rugby uniform in the school colors: black and red. The latter wore black pants with a dark blue button-down shirt untucked.

Cassian smirked as her eyes met his. “Glad you decided to make an appearance,” he drawled. She narrowed her eyes at him, and his smile widened in response. Cocky bastard. Azriel, double majoring in political science and criminology, simply nodded at her in greeting.

After the sidekicks came Rhys’s cousin Mor, an architecture major with a minor in design. She was entirely too peppy in a way that left Nesta exhausted, but Nesta wouldn’t give her satisfaction by scoffing at her cocked hip and half-grin, ostensibly projecting confidence. She held Mor’s stare, matching her asserted confidence with a cool security in her own assets. The half-smile twisted, just slightly, and Nesta moved on to the short girl farthest to the right: Amren.

Amren scared people. As in, people were genuinely freaked out by her. Aside from a few cultish tendencies, her occasional propensity for violence and/or verbal outbursts, and her sharp expression, though, Nesta couldn’t tell why. Amren majored in gemology and minored in linguistics, and was the only one in the group other than Feyre to have not known the others since they were little. In fact, she was studying here from abroad, though nobody actually knew where she was from. Unlike Mor, Amren presented a confidence that Nesta could believe in and respect. Nesta maintained her chilled posture, but let the bite in her expression retreat.

As for Feyre’s introducing Nesta, that was unnecessary as well. They all knew her; most upperclassmen did. Or rather they knew of her, by the name of heinous bitch. If she were being honest with herself, she didn’t mind the nickname.

“Okay,” Feyre started, her voice expectant as she tilted her chin to look at Rhys’s face, “Let’s head in?” Feyre, Rhys, and Nesta had met up with the rest of the group in the parking lot before they entered the party. Fashionably late, Feyre had told her on the drive in Rhys’s tesla. Rhys taught me that the key to maintaining his public image is in making grand entrances. God, Nesta wanted to laugh at Rhys’s influence over her.

As they entered the building holding the party Nesta immediately stiffened, and had to close her eyes for a moment against the harsh blue and purple lights cast by PAR cans. All senses at once were smacked by the presence of weed. The floor was vibrating, and speakers blasted near-deafening music so that all Nesta could really hear was thunder. Jesus Christ, I hate parties, she thought. A mass of sweaty bodies shifted and bounced through the too-heavy air ahead of her, some only silhouettes in the murky haze, through which Nesta saw red solo cups littering every possible surface. Suddenly she noticed Feyre standing next to her, fidgeting with her clutch and looking over expectantly. Nesta shot her a withering look that said, “This is not what we agreed to.” Feyre had the nerve to look guilty.

“Okay before you say anything,” Feyre began, “I know that look, and... I know this is a bit bigger than we talked about-”

“A bit?! This is a rager, Feyre. Do I look like I rage?”

“Okay no, but I promise Rhys and I have a plan.” Oh my God.

Nesta gave her another glare and plucked a cup off a nearby table. Sniffing it, she sighed and took a big swig. “Please, my dearest sister, do tell.”

“We’re going with a buddy system.”

Nesta coughed. “A buddy system – are you fucking kidding me?” She spied Rhys and his dickhead friends in the corner of her eye. “Wow, are arts and crafts before or after beer pong?”

Feyre rolled her eyes, calling a fresh wave of frustration to roll over Nesta. “Can you shut it with the attitude, Nesta? I already apologized for the crowd of people – it kind of got out of hand. Rhys told me before we left but I didn’t want to scare you out of coming.” She gave Nesta a pleading look.

“Tch, whatever. Who’s my buddy? I assume you’ll be with Rhys?”

Feyre beamed at her. “You’re paired up with Cassian!”

“Cassian.” Great. Alpha dickhead.

“Don’t be like that. He knows his way around these things and he’ll keep you from accidentally overdosing or blacking out.” 

“Who said that wasn’t my intention?” 

Feyre scrunched her face up. “Either way, you can’t deny that he’s bigger and taller than half the creepy guys here. He’ll keep unwanted attention away.” 

Nesta watched as Rhys, lead hulking rugby bro dickhead, caught sight of her sister and eyed her with what might have been lust or love – Nesta couldn’t decide. Cassian, approaching from Rhys’s side, cut Nesta a slow, purposeful look down and back up to her face. She felt an annoying tingle down her spine as the crowds parted for them. This was going to be a long night.

Part 3: Inhaler (Foals)

They had been at the party for less than ten minutes and Nesta already wanted to leave. Drink in hand, she aimlessly wandered around the outskirts of the crowd, hoping to find a place to sit farther from the lights that drowned out any rational thought that flashed through her brain. Cassian trailed a few steps behind.

“So, what do you do for fun?”

She twisted around to glare at him. “Why are you talking to me?”

Cassian puffed out a laugh and spread his arms wide, responding, “If you don’t recall, we’re kind of stuck together, darling.”

Right. Nesta rolled her eyes. “How could I forget?” Cassian left the question hanging, still following her, so she forged on. “I like to read. A concept that’s probably foreign to you.” She dodged a young couple parting from the fray to make out against the wall, and paused to reorient herself.

“You might be surprised.” Nesta groaned inwardly and arched a brow. “Oh I have no doubt.”

“None at all?”

“What. Are you on volume seven of Captain Underpants?”

“Volume eight, actually.”

Nesta stopped. She was pissed. Pissed at this party, pissed at Feyre for lying about how big it was, pissed that she was stuck with rugby bro sidekick, pissed that the purple lights suddenly seemed a lot brighter, the music a lot louder, her thoughts a lot fuzzier. “Look, Cassian. I only came here as a favor to my sister. We’re not friends.” He started to cut her off, but she continued, turning so that they fully faced each other, “You don’t have to stay, I can take care of myself.”

He leaned in close, the laughter in his tone suddenly gone. “Listen, princess. You’ve had two beers and you’re already tipsy. I get it, we’re not friends. But there are at least four guys looking at you like they want to take you against the nearest surface and I’m the only man within a thirty-foot radius that has any self-control. There’s no way I’m leaving.” He held her gaze firmly.

“So that’s it – I’m just supposed to trust you? My knight in shining armor, here to protect my virtue? That ship sailed a long time ago.” Fuck it. “I wouldn’t mind taking you for a ride though,” Nesta said, flashing a smirk at the end.

Cassian’s lips twisted into a half-grin, but she could see annoyance rising up in his eyes. “Nesta, you don’t wanna play with me.”

“Brute.” Nesta turned and started walking away again.

“Bitch.” He followed.

Nesta scoffed. “How original.”

“Not all of us are English Lit majors.” 

Somehow Nesta tripped on her own foot at that moment, staggering sideways into Cassian’s path. He lunged forward, arms going around her waist to hoist her upright. Her lip curled and she spit out, “And not all of us are rugby stars,” and shoved her way out of his arms.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Cassian asked, incredulous.

“Cassian, I’m sure there are plenty of girls here that would love your attention. But I’m not one of them.” She turned around to face him, walking backwards, and almost tripped again. “So go on and play with someone else. I don’t care. Just leave me alone.” With that, Nesta thrust herself into the fray, pushing her way through the mass of shouting people, making the crowd a barrier between herself and Cassian.

Part 4: Emergency (Nothing but Thieves)

After five minutes of random college students bumping into her from every direction, her head pounding and thoughts muddled, Nesta realized she didn’t know which direction the exit was in. Fuck. She was disoriented and exasperated, her frustration now showing in her usually unshakable expression. She couldn’t even tell which direction the light was coming from. How many beers had she drunk? Two? Three? She wasn’t usually a drinker, and it hit her then that she hadn’t eaten for hours before the party started. Stupid, she thought. This was why she didn’t do parties.

She was so distracted trying to figure out where the light source was, trying to get her bearings at least, that she didn’t catch sight of a brooding figure wending its way toward her until the man had a hold of her wrist and was pulling her to the side of the room, wherever that was. 

“Hey! Get the fuck off me!” Nesta shouted over the crowd, but couldn’t get a response from the man until they found one of the cinder block walls.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice cruel as he tried to pull her closer. “We’re just having a bit of fun, that’s all.”

“Excuse me?” Nesta ripped free of his grasp, but he backed her into a corner. He had a drink in one hand. Not good.

“Hey, hey, no need to get worked up,” he drawled, “I saw the way you were looking at me.” Looking at him? Nesta thought. This was the first she’d seen of him.

Nesta tried to step to the side, but the man followed her, his senses keener than hers in her condition. He reached out for her arm again, and Nesta shouted this time. “Don’t touch me!”

He put his hand up as if in innocence. “Come now, I’ll make it fun for you. Just have a drink.” He brought the cup toward her face, his hand now reaching behind her head, which she snatched away.

“I swear to God, can’t you bastards understand that no means no?”

“You-”

“Get the fuck away from me, creep!” She aimed a kick at his groin, but he easily dodged it.

His mouth hardened into a line, and he growled, “Just take the damn drink, bitch!”

The man shoved her into the corner, her head hitting the wall. He brought his hand up to hold her back by her shoulders as he brought the cup up toward her lips and-

“Let me go or I promise you’ll regret it.” Last resort. 

He shot her a crooked grin and began to reply, but whatever response he had in mind was cut short.

A voice from behind him said, “And she never goes back on a promise, asshole.” The man was wrenched off her body by two strong hands, and pulled over to the side to give her an out, which she quickly took advantage of.

And there, dragging the man away from her, was Cassian.

The creep tried to play it cool. “Hey, Cassian, bro, what’s up, man?” he said mock-casually, “I caught your last game! great playing, dude!” His demeanor shifted completely as he turned on his bro mode.

Cassian’s jaw was set. He tightened his grip on the man’s shoulder, his stare withering. “You need to leave. Right now.”

Yet the man kept going with a smirk, “It’s all good bro, we can share.” 

That was a step too far.

Cassian grabbed the man’s shirt, pulling him close. “That’s the thing – I don’t share. I don’t play nice.” Cassian thrust his face forward so they were only a couple inches apart. “You said you caught my last game, right? So you know I don’t go down without a fight. Touch her again and you’ll regret it.” With that, he shoved the guy into a table, and turned to Nesta. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Part 5: Before We Drift Away (Nothing but Thieves)

Dizzy and shaken, Nesta let Cassian guide her through the crowd to the exit. Once they were outside in the cool night air, he pulled her aside, gaze dark.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No.”

“Did he force you to drink whatever was in that cup?”

“No.”

His eyes closed and relief flooded across his face. “Good. God, some people are fucked up. I don’t know what I would have done if he had drugged you, or taken you away, or...” He trailed off, leaving anything further than that unsaid. 

They were silent for a minute. Nesta looked up at him, a bit of worry still etched across his features. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you care so much?”

He looked over to her, something strange in his expression that Nesta couldn’t place. “I don’t know. You’re a human being, and your safety was left in my hands.” He paused and looked away. “If I’m being honest, when I saw that guy put his hands on you... I don’t know. Something flipped inside me.” At that moment he looked down to her bare shoulders, noticing that she was beginning to shiver. “You’re cold,” he said softly. “Here, take this.” He removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders, even when she protested.

Nesta frowned as she gave in and pulled his jacket tightly around her, annoyed at the way her body betrayed her. “I don’t need protection. I’ve lived a long time without people to care about me.” She started walking toward the parking lot, and he followed.

“You shouldn’t have to live like that, Nesta. You’ve been pushing me away all night, but listen to me – don’t you understand? I’m not just talking to you because I’m bored. I don’t smile at you as a game, as if you’re some prize for me to win. Can’t you see by now that I’m doing literally everything I can just to stay by your side? Damn it, I asked Feyre to pair us together at the party.”

Nesta had stopped walking and was speechless for once.

Cassian stepped closer tentatively, as though she’d back away. He ran a finger over Nesta’s wrist and looked up to the sky. “Please, just don’t make me say anything else completely insane. I promise I’m not in the habit of sharing intense moments with perfect strangers.”

A rush of anger coursed through Nesta, and she shoved him back. “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t talk to me like that. Despite what you must think, I’m not an idiot. I’m not naive. I am well aware that this is all a favor to my sister. Stay with my lame, antisocial sister. It might be fun, right?” She paused, any restraint she had used earlier having completely abandoned her.

“That’s not what I think at all, Nes-”

“Fuck you, Cassian.” She shoved him again, more aggressively this time.

Cassian caught her wrists and pulled her closer. “Try that again.”

Nesta glared. “Bite me,” she spit out.

“Maybe I will.”

And as though drawn to her by some gravitational force, Cassian’s mouth came crashing down onto hers. He wrapped his arms around her waist, seeming to lift her off her feet. Nesta’s bare skin burned where Cassian touched her, and she pushed back against his touch to gain control. Everything, every thought was fading to nothing. Biting down on his lip drew out a low groan from Cassian, and Nesta broke free.

Cassian put his hands up as though to make a barrier between them, as though he wouldn’t be able to control himself without it. 

“So much for being the only man with self-control,” Nesta said. Cassian just shook his head, earning a light snort from Nesta. “I shut everyone out--even pretty jocks like you. Don’t take it personally. It’s just easier.”

Cassian smiled his easy smile, and he reached up to touch his lips with a thumb. “You think I’m pretty?”

Nesta scoffed. “The prettiest.”

He stood there for a moment, just smiling at her, before turning back toward the parking lot. “Okay, princess, allow me to introduce you to the pinnacle of after-party activities.”

Nesta raised a brow, and Cassian let out a bark of laughter.

“Get your mind out of the gutter. I’m talking about pancakes.”

She looked skeptical. “Pancakes?”

“Yes. And after the night you had, you deserve an entire plate of them.” Cassian reached out to her with his big, warm hand, and Nesta hesitated.

“Cassian-” She started warily.

“Hey – I’m not asking you to marry me, it’s just pancakes.”

Nesta waited a moment more, then took his hand. “Fine. But I’m not sharing the chocolate sauce.”

“I wouldn’t dare ask you to. Besides, you already know how I feel about sharing.”

Nesta smiled a bit. “Hey Cassian?

“Yes Nesta?”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

*not sure how this works, but here goes...* Imagine meeting the company in Bag End, but they don't know you're mute. There's question as to whether or not you should even come on the quest because you don't even have a sign language in the Shire (how will you signal any trouble, call for help, etc). You have some skill throwing knives and can whistle quite loud. There's debate amongst the company about teaching you the secret dwarven sign language (objections being from the older members mainly)

OH MY GOD THIS IS MY 100TH CHAPTER (on ao3)!! Should I do something special for it?

Also for this one I kinda just imagined Tinkerbell (Peter Pan) when writing the reader? Idk. Tinkerbell is quiet, feisty, clever, and like, the best? So I used her for inspiration.

---

You weren't born like this. 

For the first few years of your life you could speak, scream, cry, whisper, and make usual noises like every other child.

You were not a disliked child whatsoever, but you were always quite small, small even for a hobbit, and were also considered rather odd. The other kids considered you odd because you didn't like to play the games children usually liked playing, nor were you particularly good with conversing with others. Other children made you nervous, so you avoided them. 

Unfortunately, they took your avoidance for you being stuck-up and mean, so they often liked to pick on you and torment you for things. The fact that your older brother Bilbo would always stick up for you didn't help this fact either. 

It happened when you were 8; the incident that lost you your voice.

Some of the other Shire children were being mean to you as usual, throwing things and running after you when you tried to get away, and they chased you up a tree. They were armed with branches, rocks, and various other 'weapons' which you didn't much like being hit with, and so you raced up a tree and hid from them in the high branches to wait them out. 

You tried to call for help several times, but you were too far away for any adults to hear your cries, and at one point one of the children nailed you right in the head with stick. 

You fell from the tree screaming, and when you hit the ground, you never made another noise again. 

The fall damaged your larynx, and while you can still do things like hum, cough, and make some simpler noises, you cannot laugh, speak, or even whisper. 

That may sound horrible, but you actually got lucky all things considered, since many larynx fractures and damages can be life-threatening. 

Suffice to say nobody messed with you after that, though it's very sad that it took a life altering injury to stop your torment. 

You have long since given up your anger and hate for what happened to you that day, though sometimes you do feel a great deal of frustration for not being able to voice your thoughts or outright tell people what you mean or need. 

With all the negatives that come with being mute, however, come some positives as well. 

For example, you are a master of silence and stealth in your own right, you're an excellent listener (not that you can reply anyways), you've made good on plenty of other talents like writing and cooking with your brother to name some, you've got excellent aim, and your patience and charades skills are unrivaled. 

So when Gandalf the Grey comes about one lovely morning and proposes an adventure for you and your brother, suffice to say you were overjoyed to finally do something. 

The first meeting with those rowdy dwarfs was a doozy, and you got lots of questions about why you wouldn't speak, though, clearly, you couldn't answer them. 

When Gandalf announced that you and Bilbo would be coming along there was a lot of apprehension, and not just because you're mute either. 

Bilbo is, quite literally, the softest and least durable hobbit in the entirety of the Shire; and mix that with a verbally challenged hobbit as well? 

Suffice to say there was a lot of protest, but Gandalf shut it all down without hesitation and demanded that the two of you be welcomed onto the trip and treated fairly. 

Bilbo didn't want to go, and at some point he passed out and a bunch of things happened, but you made up your mind and let Gandalf know that you would do it with or without Bilbo. 

He can't look after you forever, after-all. 

You were as silent as usual that next morning while everyone traveled, joked, and placed bets on whether or not Bilbo would show up, but you were fairly certain that he would arrive eventually - so you didn't worry much about it. 

Some of the dwarfs tried to make small talk with you while you rode along with them, and though they knew you couldn't verbally respond, you still did your best to act out what you wanted to say; that, or you let your facial expression do the talking for you. 

It seemed that you could get your point across pretty well too, either that or they were sparing your feelings and pretending to understand, because they give an appropriate response to you each time. 

Bilbo did, ultimately, show up at some point, and from there the journey really began. 

---

Your inability to speak really does make things a lot harder a lot of the time, but you usually manage to push through. 

No matter what weaknesses you have because you've spent so much of your life in silence, the strengths always shine through in the end. 

This is one of those times. 

Fili and Kili managed to lose track of some of the horses and stumble upon three trolls, and then they had the bright idea to send in you and your brother to retrieve them! 

Obviously you both did it, but unfortunately Bilbo got caught and all the dwarfs came out and began to fight the trolls with everything they have. It wasn't enough, though, for soon they are all bagged and piled up. 

You got lucky and managed to hide in a nearby bush, and while you know for a fact that you can't take on three trolls by yourself, you can certainly find a way to release the poor. frightened ponies. 

Eventually, once the trolls are completely distracted by other things, you creep out from beneath the bush and army man crawl towards the little pen they made. 

The forgotten weapon lay there on the ground next to the gate, and without hesitation you pick it up and start to saw away at the rope holding it shut. 

Like usual you manage to go by unnoticed up to the end, and once the rope is cut, you open up the gate and watch as the ponies rush away at top speed. 

"Oi!" One of the trolls yell when it notices the fleeing ponies, taking a few quick steps in their general direction before another one of the trolls tells him to forget about it since they've got something better. 

"But how did they get out?" The same troll asks suspiciously, looking over in your direction. 

When he turns towards you, you dive to the ground and hide behind one of the supporting pillars of the gate, squeezing your eyes shut while your heart hammers in your chest when loud footsteps approach. 

Even though you know he can't hear you, you still find yourself holding your breath and awaiting his descent upon you. 

Only it never comes. 

"Huh..." The troll grunts, then turns and rejoins his troll friends around the slow roasting dwarves they've tied above their fire. 

You slowly poke your head up and look at the backs of the trolls who are gathered around the fire, then you glance over at the pile of dwarfs and meet Thorin's gaze from across the way. 

Slowly you bring up your hand and point at yourself, then point at him and make an untying motion with your hands. 

He glances at the busy trolls, then down at the dwarfs by his feet before looking over at you again and slowly nodding his head. 

As soon as you get confirmation you drop back low to the ground and carefully pick your way through the underbrush and manage to avoid crunching or snapping any dead leaves and sticks that may be in your way. 

Eventually, you manage to sneak your way over to the rock just above Thorin, and once you're sure none of the trolls are looking in your direction, you slide down it and land right next to him. 

He looks at you and whispers, "As quiet as a mouse, as always." 

With slightly shaky hands, you begin to try and undo the ties keeping him contained in the sack, but it seems that the knot is rather sturdy since you can't get your fingers into any of the holes in the rope. 

You tug on it a bit and furrow your eyebrows in frustration, going in to pick at it some more before he whispers again, "They're looking this way, hide!" 

As soon as the words leave his mouth you drop to the floor and roll over so you're hiding behind the stack o' dwarfs and fit yourself between Thorin and Balin's legs, reaching up discreetly to begin working at the knot entrapping Gloin. 

It's around this time that you hear Bilbo begin to speak and try to convince the trolls to let them go, though his logic doesn't do much, so you start to work faster 

You're so engrossed on freeing him that you don't notice the loud and large footsteps coming back towards you, and it's not until you hear, "What's all this then?" that you realize you've made a mistake. 

It's unfortunate too, cause you just managed to get Gloin free from his bindings. 

The back of your shirt is lifted suddenly, and then you're in the air next while the dwarfs you were trying to free start to yell and freak out, and Bilbo cries your name in a panic. 

You flail your arms and kick your legs, swinging your fists and beating on the hand holding you by your shirt while you mouth silent curses at the troll. 

"What's this? Another hobbit?" The troll asks, lifting you up to eye level so he can see you more clearly. 

You lash out and hit it right in it's big ugly nose, feeling a moment of triumph when it yelps and reaches up with it's other hand to rub it's abused nose. When that works, you start to beat on it's stupid face more, but before you can get in much more it pulls you away from it's face and starts to shake you back and fourth quickly. 

Troll uses earthquake; it is very effective. 

In seconds you're in a daze and left dizzy when it stops shaking you back and fourth. 

"Well now what? Can we eats that too?" The one with the lower pitched voice asks, looking at the other two while it resumes its turning of the dwarfs hovering over the fire. 

"Of course we can! Go get another bag." The higher pitched one holding you states, dropping you onto the ground from up high. 

When you hit the ground with a silent 'oof' you smack your head and the dizziness increases, but you still hear Gandalf's booming voice and the yelling of the trolls as they turn to stone when the light hits their skin. 

Slowly you push yourself up to your hands and knees and press a hand to your aching head, whining softly when the throbbing gets worse as you move. 

"Y/N!" Bilbo calls from behind you , worry clear in his voice. 

The sound of his voice snaps you out of your stupor, so you hurriedly get to your feet and scramble over to him with slightly wobbly steps, immediately going to the knot holding him in the sack and cutting him loose. 

Once he's freed, he reaches up and moves your head out of your face to check for any injuries, and when he sees none he sighs in relief. "You're not hurt anywhere, are you?" 

You shake your head no, then point over at the still trapped dwarfs, Gloin being the only one free at the moment while he tries to free Bombur from his prison. 

He seems to understand your point right away and nods his head, walking over to them so he can release them. 

You look around the camp for a moment while Gandalf rejoins you all and grab one of the heavy discarded swords, bringing it over to Gandalf then pointing at the few suspended in air and no doubt roasting hot in their position. 

The elderly wizard smiles at you kindly and accepts the blade, immediately going over to cut loose those still stuck. 

When you turn back around almost everyone is freed, and you find an unconscious smile spreading across your face when you see that they're all okay. 

Bilbo bounds over to you as soon as he's done freeing them, though not before getting some praise for his quick thinking and distraction that saved Bombur's life and gave Gandalf more time to free them, and when you overhear their praise of him your smile broadens. 

"But of course, Y/N provided an excellent distraction as well. Gave the young one a good beating." Thorin muses while he dusts off his coat and trousers, looking at you with a pleased expression on his face. 

You can feel your face heating up slightly at the compliment, but your smile remains and you nod your head eagerly in thanks. 

"Though, I suppose your job would be a fair bit easier if we could properly communicate with you..." He adds slowly, reaching up to stroke his beard lightly. 

Your joy deflates at that, and right away your smile is replaced with a pout.

There is no unspoken form of the language you once spoke, for if there was, you would've learned it a long time ago. Of course you can write well, but there's no time to write what you're thinking in the middle of a conflict. 

Bilbo sighs and shakes his head, "There is no other language for her to speak. I have no knowledge of any other signed languages, unfortunately." 

A few moments of silence pass on by before Bofur hesitantly suggests, "We could teacher her some iglishmêk." 

As soon as the words leave his mouth there is some protesting from Balin, Oin, and a few others, them saying things like, "only dwarfs can speak iglishmêk," "that's a horrible idea," and, "that's against our customs!" 

Bofur shrinks under the scolding and yelling of the older members of the company, but Thorin, surprisingly, says nothing. 

Kili comes to Bofur's rescue, thankfully for him, and states, "Well we need to communicate somehow! I think it's a good idea. We all know it, and I think it would be beneficial to the group." 

HIs brother nods in agreement as well as some of the other younger dwarfs, meanwhile you, Bilbo, and Gandalf kinda just sit back and watch them argue it out for a few moments.

It's not until something catches you eye that you leave the arguing, and once you catch sight of that odd glimmer from somewhere off to the right you follow it.

Nobody notices you slip away as per usual, but no matter, for you've just found a lovely gold coin. 

Right before you turn to go show everyone, you see another, and then another, all the way leading to a big hole in the ground. 

You can tell it has a strong stench even from your spot above it, but your curiosity gets the best of you so you venture cautiously into the small tunnel and see various things inside. There's some bones, more gold, a whole bunch of weapons, some random trinkets and horse saddles, and, like mentioned before, an awful smell. 

"Where did Y/N go?" You hear someone ask loudly suddenly, and right away you remember that you shouldn't go wandering off alone.

You crawl back out of the slippery slope and pop your head up out of the ground, seeing everyone looking around frantically for you. Since you can't yell for them, you take one of the gold coins you collected and chuck it at them, hitting Thorin in the back with it.

He turns and sees you, and right away his shoulders relax and he calls, "There you are! Why are you all the way over there?"

You gesture for them to come over with a 'come here' wave of your hand, then walk out of the cave completely and point at the hole in the ground when they come over. 

A few of them go in, but you stay outside with Bilbo this time and look at the handful of coins you collected from inside there. 

Bilbo looks at them over your shoulder and states, "As far as I'm concerned, you have first claim over everything in that tunnel." 

You look up at him with a big smile on your face and laugh soundlessly, shaking your head at his words. You only found it after all, that's nothing too special or hard, and it was the gleam of a coin that caught your attention anyways. 

To show him this, you lift up one of the coins and shrug your shoulders, then point back down at the cave and shrug again. 

"I know you think it was nothing, but you always manage to find and do things that later help us out. You're by far the best of us." 

You pout at that and shake your head in disagreement, putting the handful of coins into your pocket so you can cross your arms over your chest. 

"Don't you look at me like that. You know I'm right." A smile creeps onto his face while the two of you jokingly argue back and fourth, for he's missed this wordless banter (on your part) between the two of of you. "Just take a compliment for once, won't you?" 

A little longer do you stare at him, but when he doesn't waver or relent, you sigh and nod your head.

"You seem to understand those gestures and facial expressions really well." Balin comments from off to the side, smiling at the two of you with that same old sweet and cheery expression on his face. "It's like you know what Y/N is thinking." 

"Well to some extent, I do. We're siblings after all, and we've been around each other since even before the silence came about." Bilbo explains, putting an arm around your shoulders in a very brotherly manner. 

You nod your head in agreement and look over at Balin with a smile of your own. Honestly, you don't know where you'd be if you didn't have someone like Bilbo to understand you. 

A moment of silence passes by where you all just look at each other before Balin's smile lessens and he sighs, "Maybe we should teach you iglishmêk..." 

That certainly makes you brighten up. 

Oh how you crave the ability to properly communicate with others, so if they teach you and Bilbo this secret sign-language then you'll be able to properly talk to him for once, to talk to them too. 

You get up and walk over to Balin, kissing his rosy cheek lightly while the smile on your face remains just as vibrant and happy as before. 

Oh, you hope that they will. 

[jcmorrigan]

Blakeworther headcanons. I don't have a specific theme or anything in mind. Go ham

Go ham, you say?

GO HAM, YOU SAY?

Sorry not sorry but this is about to become mega cringe time. Because I do *have* a specific set of headcanons preloaded but it is not at ALL what you asked for

I love crossovers, and I want to import the Bastard Trio into my current crossover hell fic. So I was kind of playing with their dynamic in my mind, and one of the ways I test out character dynamics is to send them on little imaginary missions to other crossover worlds in my mind. Now, I’m in the midst of watching a playthrough of Skyward Sword, which I have heretofore not experienced. And I’m not exactly finished with it. But for some mental warm-ups, I was thinking, “Okay. SkSw is the other big fandom I’m trying, and it’s as far from the G4 as you can get, so what if you put three sci-fi guys in a high fantasy setting and watched them go? What if they had to take Link’s journey, except their goal is most certainly not to save anything because they’re swaggering murderers? What would happen then?”

This...is that story. But only up through the part where I watched (the first of the Silent Realms). Maybe a part II later if I keep doing this?

-To blend in, our boys have gotten themselves some Loftwings. While Vincent’s and Victor’s look like ordinary giant shoebills...oh. Oh, dear. Albert...how did you manage to turn it into a Dream Eater so fast? Its beak is white, its feathers are black, it has no eyes and people are STARING.

-Albert refuses to discard or fix the Dream Eater Loftwing. It’s going to be his steed for this entire quest. Joy.

-NOBODY played fair when they had to race against Groose. They teamed up to knock him off his bird and it’s a miracle he survived. Especially since he wasn’t supposed to survive that.

-Like I said, I have no idea what their endgame goal is here because they’re certainly not trying to stop Demise. Or are they? Because they befriend Ghirahim right the heck away and it’s entirely possible they’re like “We’re from the future, this guy will shatter you, you deserve better, please leave Demise in the ground and join our team”

-And when I say they befriend Ghirahim right away I mean ESPECIALLY ALBERT

-Victor loves shopping at the bazaar because he can play-flirt with Peatrice and she’ll flirt right back. Meanwhile if the fortune teller attempts to reel in Vincent ONE MORE TIME there will be blood.

-Vincent Edgeworth is forcibly removed from the Skyloft bazaar

-Victor is the only person who remotely likes Fi, probably because she’s quite visibly supposed to be an AI and he is quite visibly part robot.

-They hit the ground and get going!

-Oh no. Kikwis. They hate Kikwis so much.

-The one that’s up in the tree, the three of them debate how to most quickly get down. Vincent: “We don’t bother and just say we did.” Victor: “If we threw a rock at it, it would fall out.” Albert: “I think we should set the whole tree on fire.”

-They get into the first dungeon, and you know that one segment where you have to vine-swing and the motion controls are so unforgiving? Vincent fell off those vines like twelve times and Victor and Albert lost their shit

-They get the beetle and now that thing’s a Dream Eater, too. Albert please stop doing this

-Back at Skyloft, doing sidequests is their least favorite thing. They do not give a SHIT about Gratitude Crystals if they don’t have to do so. The missing girl’s mom comes up to tell her problems and Vincent just goes “This affects me how?”. The brother says his sister went missing and Victor’s just like “We’ll take care of it!” and as soon as he’s out of earshot “Let’s not take care of it.” Cawlin hands them the love letter to deliver to Karane or Phoeni, Albert rips it in half in front of Cawlin, Cawlin starts bawling, Victor just goes “Actually I kinda wanted to do that one and see if we could start romance drama”

-Into Eldin Province and Mogmas are...only slightly less aggravating than Kikwis

-VINCENT ALMOST EXPLODES WHEN HE LEARNS THE KEY TO THE NEXT DUNGEON IS SPLIT IN PIECES AND HE HAS TO DIG IN THE DIRT FOR IT

-So then there’s that one passage in the valley where if you don’t just book it, your clothes will catch on fire. They blaze through it, and Fi determines that they’ve sustained no damage, which is good, because if they’d been exposed a moment longer, then surely one of them would be naked. Victor, hearing this, promptly tosses some personal item of his back into the high-heat area; “Oops. I dropped it. Go get it, Vincent.” Albert: “YES! GO GET IT, VINCENT!”

-It is only sheer willpower and Victor’s physical restraint that keeps Vincent from beating Ledd to a pulp.

-They actually kinda like hanging around the sacred springs, though. They’re tranquil places. A good way to just...not have to deal with all that noise. They can sit by the water quietly for a while, just watching it ripple.

-And back to business! They enter Lanayru, discover that the Time Crystals can revert this desert into a technological paradise and...yeah, it was way, WAY better in the past than it is now. They poke around some of the tech, taking notes for later in case they can reverse-engineer any of it.

-Dream Eater Beetle has been replaced by a brand-new shiny Hook Beetle! Albert, please don’t turn this one into a - GOD DAMMIT ALBERT. HOW ARE YOU EVEN DOING THIS WITH INANIMATE OBJECTS.

-They get in such a fight about how to place the generator switches. Victor is trying his best but he’s SURE they don’t arrange the way the other two are trying to tell him they arrange

-Every time they pass Ghirahim they stop to chat with him about how the demon uprising is going, also aren’t heroines just so freaking annoying? Zelda, Vanora, why are they always getting in the way?

-Victor of course tries to put the verbal moves on Impa. At this point Vincent and Albert know he just does this for fun, he’s faithful to the two of them, but still, they gotta do the obligatory eyeroll and groan

-”Yes, Victor. She’s very pretty. We’re gay, not blind”

-Vincent actually enjoys playing the Goddess Harp, surprisingly. He can just zone into the music.

-The Imprisoned gets out and hoo boy, they’re really not supposed to be DEFEATING evil just yet but Albert wants to cut off some TOES (and this ends up yielding them knowledge about the Isle of Songs so it’s all good)

-Scrapper annoys them all and visibly offends Victor.

-Vincent likes to use the bellows from the Eldin dungeon to blow away anyone who tries to rope him into a sidequest. Albert then goes “I’ve just realized the potential we have!” and tries to blow people off the edge of Skyloft.

-They hate the remlits until they find out that the remlits go feral at night and now they love the remlits but only after dark

-Into the Thunderhead for the Isle of Songs. And YET AGAIN WE CANNOT AGREE ON HOW TO SOLVE THE PUZZLE THAT LETS US INSIDE

-Down to Faron’s realm to get to the Silent Realm. Once they’re in there and have learned about the guardians...

-Vincent: “Now we have to be CAREFUL and QUICK or else the guardians will expel us immediately, maybe even kill us.” Victor: “You might want to tell him that.” Vincent: “Wh - ALBERT NO”

-Albert is investigating a dormant guardian close-up and decides “I want to take one of these home.”

-Vincent: “NO, Albert, we can’t...hmmmm. Actually, we could probably weaponize them...” Victor: “CAN WE NOT?”

-And then cue them risking life and limb not to get what they even came here for but to pick up AS MANY DARK RELICS AS THEY CAN CARRY

And that’s as far as I’ve watched in SkSw so far. Not sure whether or not I’ll keep using it as a Blakeworther ground, but there, have the AU you *never* wanted

[wonwooslibrary]

ult. group questions! (i am sorry this is SO late)

thank you @cha-lan for tagging me!

i’ll tag @heartshxkr and @woozisnoots (to support the meteor garden watching group!) and anyone else who would like to do this!

directions: answer the following questions based on your ult group(s).

I actually have 5 ult groups, but for this, i’ll stick with my main ones: bts and seventeen!

1) who as your first bias?

bts: surprisingly to me, my first bias was namjoon, and he was also my first ever kpop bias. I'm pretty sure he became my bias because he was the only member I recognized for the first two weeks before I learned the other member's names

svt: if I am remembering correctly, it was either jihoon or minghao. though, the first member to catch my eye was jun in the don't wanna cry music video.

2) who is your bias now?

bts: seokjin! he created my bias type (for bgs); vocalists, and members of hyung lines. I just love how funny he is and how he isn't afraid to do anything (like cut his hair with kitchen scissors when the company refuses to let him cut his hair)

svt: ...there are five of them. in order, soonyoung, jun, wonwoo, jihoon and seungcheol. basically, the 96 line and the leader line. though, they do fight over the top spot a lot, especially jun and soonyoung. though after silent boarding gate, I think jun might be #1

3) what is the first ever mv you watched by them?

bts: it was dope! since it was in october of 2017, i'm really confused how it wasn't dna. but my first three were dope, save me and spring day!

svt: don't wanna cry! also in october of 2017. I think the first three were don't wanna cry, boom boom and adore u? I don't really remember the 2nd and 3rd ones lol

4) what's your favorite mv?

bts: hands down, spring day. not only is it my favorite era and song by them, but it was also the time of grape joon and that must never be forgotten. though, stay gold and hearbeat are close seconds.

svt: ...do I have to pick? I guess i'll say; change up (because i'm a leader line stan), fallin' flower (because it's freaking beautiful), oh my! (because that's my favorite era) and don't wanna cry (because it's the first mv I saw).

5) if you could listen to one of their songs for the rest of your life, which would it be?

bts: maybe...heartbeat? I just really like the song and the mv is amazing! if I couldn't pick heartbeat, I think i'd pick fly to my room

svt: either moonwalker, call call call, rocket or no f.u.n. I am very bad at picking one song lol. but I wouldn't mind listening to any of these for the rest of my life

6) who would you want to see them collab with?

bts: I actually have the same answers for both groups, but i'll say one for each. so the first option is TROYE SIVAN. I ~love~ louder than bombs, and to have them actually create a song together would be so freaking amazing I would cry.

svt: the second option is 5 Seconds of Summer. I think it would be really cool to see either bts or svt work with 5sos and make a rock/pop punk genre song, since that is pretty different compared to what both groups make.

7) what mv concept do you want to see them do?

bts: I really want to see them do something similar to maniac by conan grey or universe by exo? i'm a sucker for those types of songs and seeing bts do that would be amazing.

svt: i'm thinking something along the lines of view by shinee / 4 walls by f(x). I really like those styles and I think svt could pull it off.

8) have you ever had a dream with any of the members in it?

bts: I know for a fact I had a dream with yoongi in it once, like a year ago, but I can't remember what happened in it for the life of me

svt: after watching silent boarding gate the day it was released I had a dream similar to that mv, but I was obvs the girl in the mv and I didn't leave jun cause I could never do that to him

9) if you could spend the day with one member, who would it be, and what would you do?

bts: i would absolutely love to spend a day with seokjin. not only because he is my bias, but because he just seems so fun and energetic and I want to hang out with someone who can make me laugh and act chaotic.

svt: ...i have an idea for each of my biases so because I can't pick here they all are; with seungcheol, i'd want to go on a midnight drive to nowehere, kinda like my drabble, all my love. with jun, all I could think about is a cat cafe date...just...ugh I would love that. with soonyoung, I would love to go to karaoke or an arcade. he just seems so fun to hang out with, so we’d need to so somewhere that we can be chaotic. with wonu, I would love to go to one of those HUGE libraries and just kind of explore and read. lastly, with jihoon, I would love for him to teach me how to produce music. I’ve always had an interest in that and having someone like jihoon teach me, I would cry.

10) which member do you think you would get on best with?

bts: either yoongi or jungkook, tbh. with yoongi, we’re both pretty quiet, but we can also be loud and we have similar personalities. with jungkook, we both like games and have a lot of interests and we’d definitely be able to have a long discussion about the things we love.

svt: most likely either chan or seungkwan. chan and I are both used to being the youngest when with friends and we’re sick of it lmao. with seungkwan, I feel like we’d playfully argue a lot? and I do that with my friends anyway so I think we’d get a long like we’ve been friends forever.

11) which member would you think you would argue with?

bts: most likely taehyung, I think we’d end up arging over whether we are arguing or having a discussion. we’re just kinda like that I guess lol.

svt: hands down, jeonghan. I would fight him in a heartbeat whether there was a purpose or not or whether it was verbally or physically. there is just something about him and his slytherin energy (let’s ignore the fact that i am also a slytherin).

12) if you had to choose one member to scroll through your tumblr, who would it be?

bts: probably jimin or yoongi. jimin would just laugh at everything and yoongi would just silently judge me.

svt: either vernon or jihoon. vernon would most likely say something along the lines of “you do you” and move on with his day, and jihoon would be similar to yoongi, but instead of silently judging me, he’d say everything he’s thinking out loud. rip.

[bnha-almost-a-hero]

hate sex with dabi

part of my ‘kinktober’ series, but it’s only half the days and I decided to start at the end of October.

Our second chapter, featuring Dabi and you as a tsundere. B—Baka!

warnings & shizz: slightly non-con for the first half and, obviously, there’s smut below the cut. i can’t look at Dabi the same now so thank you.

there’s our favourite crispy mofo.

prompt — ‘hate sex’ (except it’s not towards the end)

character — dabi / touya todoroki (reeeeeeeeeeeeee)

“I fucking hate you,” Dabi spat, undoing his pants. You sat there, glaring up at him with angered eyes, your lips curling back into a snarl.

Ever since you had joined the League of Villains (shortly after the majority of the League had joined, but before the attack on the U.A. training camp), you and Dabi had butt heads. At first, it started with minor disagreements (such as you disagreeing with the mockingly saccharine nicknames he gave you, namely ‘princess’) to full-blown arguments based on your petulance and his blasé attitude towards everything. It got so bad that the League had pretty much all unanimously and silently agreed to keep you both out of the same room as each other (judging by the way Toga would usher you out of the room when he swaggered in).

But now you two were face-to-face, or rather, face-to-crotch.

The rest of the League were off on some reconnaissance mission, well, except for Shigaraki and Kurogiri, but they were upstairs in Shigaraki’s room after Shigaraki had freaked out on Dabi and Kurogiri had to excuse both himself and the young leader to calm down. So, here you were, trying to enjoy yourself (as much as you could with that burnt, Jack Skellington-looking motherfucker staring at you from the other side of the room) as you watched pregnant dwarf porn when he’d walked over to you, dragged you to the floor and uttered those four words:

‘I fucking hate you’.

You’d heard it before, many times, in fact. Your slightly bitchy attitude didn’t really mesh well with most people which was one of the many reasons you were outcasted by society and what led you to end up here. The fact that he said it wasn’t really what bothered you, it was the fact he was unzipping his pants. 

You shot him a quizzical, if annoyed look before moving to get up.

“Sit the fuck down,” He commanded, harshly, and you found yourself planting your ass back onto the floor by the sheer power that exuded from his voice. He finished unzipping his pants, then slid them down along with his boxers. 

You almost expected his dick to be scarred, but was pleasantly surprised with the condition it was in. Clean, pristine and fucking huge. Considering he was semi-flaccid as of now, you couldn’t exactly pinpoint his size, but, what you did know, was that he was definitely a shower. Two adjacent barbell piercings shone in the dim light of the bar-turned-hideout and you squirmed backwards then crawled forwards again, almost intrigued as Dabi took his cock by one hand and jerked it to full hardness.

A sliver of drool slid down the side of your mouth, which you quickly wiped away before he saw. I am not turned on, I am not turned on, I am—

“Now, suck it,” He demanded, one hand on his erect prick and the other coiled in your hair to stabilize your movements. “And pay attention to the piercing, that’s where the money is.”

You glared up at him, “Eat a—slurk!” You gagged as he forced you down onto his dick, pushing you past your feeble gag reflex and down into your throat proper. A throb echoed through your body, followed by a dull buzz that shot straight down to your cunt, like an electric shock that jolted you awake. “Glack—! Glack—!” 

“I’m sorry, you tryna say something? Can’t really hear you over all that cock-sucking your doin’.” Dabi mocked, brushing a hand through his spiky hair. So indifferent about everything, as if he weren’t getting his cock sucked. Granted, you weren’t doing a very good job and, for the most part, were just holding his cock in your throat, but, still, you expected some degree of moaning. He yanked your hair harshly and you grimaced, eyes flickering up to look at him. “You’re worse than I thought. Move your tongue around or somethin’. I thought someone who’s so good at yappin’ her mouth would be good at using it.”

“Gkrrkk fakkk yo—akkk—!” You manage to get out, frowning as you meant to say ‘go fuck yourself’. 

Realizing verbal insults wouldn’t work, not only because you surprisingly couldn’t speak with an eight-inch cock clogging your throat, but also because of his indifferent attitude, you slide your hand up to his surprisingly muscled thighs (homie must have been doing squats) and pinched as hard as you could. 

He doesn’t even flinch…

He only snickers and grabs you by the hair tighter until your scalp burns. He pushes you down onto his cock, then pulls you up again. You gag, your throat burning as he uses you as a repressed gamer would use a sex toy. Tears well in your eyes as you stare up at his blurry image. At the sight of him, your core burns and you hate yourself for feeling the way you do, but—.

But you need relief…

Your hand sneaks down your pants, quickly tugging at the buttons and the zip until it slides down to reveal your underwear. With a vicious, needy savagery, you tug your last barrier of resistance down—grasping for your aching pussy. You figure if he gets his relief by fucking your throat, you can, at least, touch yourself. 

Your index enters your spasming, hot cunt and a shameful ‘squelch’ fills the room as you realize just how wet you are. Luckily, Dabi doesn’t realize over the chorus of ‘gakkk’, ‘gakkk’, ‘gakkk’s you make as you’re forced down onto his cock, or else he would’ve come up with some witty remark to mock you. Finding one finger isn’t enough, you quickly add your middle finger to the mix and use your thumb to massage your engorged clit in small, circular motions.

You moan against his cock and are about to reach a hand up to play with your chest when Dabi pulls at your hair again, signalling you to look at him.

“Oh, so you have the energy to touch yourself, but you can’t give me a decent blowjob?” He asks, but you can tell from his tone that he isn’t truly angry. You’ve never really seen him express any emotion other than ‘I can’t give a fuck; I’m just trolling everyone’ or ‘I kinda enjoy this’. “Now tell me how that’s fair.���

You only murmur against his thick cock and he chuckles.

“You want me to fuck you, right?” He asks, his hand actually falling away from your hair.

He’s giving you autonomy, a choice, a decision. You rub your thighs together, your nipples hardening as you think. You’re still on the fence as to what you think of him altogether. Sure, you two get into arguments constantly and you were certain you hated him, but you kinda were happy to be around him. You enjoyed his laid-back attitude, you enjoyed how he called you ‘princess’, you—

You—

Fuck! You thought. Why the fuck did you miss him when you were ushered away from each other? Why would you secretly peer into the room when he was in there? Why, when you looked at him, did you feel so content? Like you could stare into those captivating, electric eyes of his whilst the world crumbled around you too.

Could it be love?

You didn’t answer that, instead, you slipped his cock out of your throat, coughing slightly as you did so.

“L—Listen!” You addressed him, despite knowing that he was already listening. You cleared your throat, hoping it would diminish your stuttering. It didn’t. “T—This is only a friends with benefits sorta thing. I—I d—don’t want you thinking this is l—love, okay?”

Dabi shrugged, “Fine by me.”

And your heart dropped at that. You didn’t know why, it just did. Why did you want him to care? Why did you want him to insist you two had a romantic relationship? Why couldn’t you just express your emotions clearly? Why was this so—so difficult?

Why—?

Why—?

Why—?

Still, you had to remain strong and unbothered. Just like he did. You straightened yourself up, took your fingers away from your cunt—even as it spasmed in protest—and looked up at him.

“What are you waiting for?” You asked, embarrassed by the silence. “Give me your dick.”

“It’s right there,” He said, motioning to the cock that was right in front of you, but not bothering to move.

You looked to the floor in embarrassment. Of course, I’m so stupid.

You tentatively grasped for the dick, shuddering with excitement as you brought your face closer to it. The smell, of spit and salty pre-cum, made you lightheaded as you licked your lips. I’m ready.

You opened your lips and leaned forward, swallowing the head in its entirety before his tip hit the back of your throat and your gag reflex kicked in. You choked on his dick, but found salvation as you started to move your head backwards and forwards—bobbing your head slowly. You remembered what he said earlier about his piercings and traced your tongue along a particularly thick vein on the underside of his dick until you found two adjacent metal barbells.

You swirled your tongue around the piercings, finding relief as he groaned in pleasure. You smirked knowingly before your hands crept down to find their own pleasure. Once again, you pushed your index and middle finger into your hot cunt, moaning against his cock before pressing your thumb against your swollen clit, rubbing your nub as your other hand reached up to tweak a neglected nipple.

“Fuck, that’s better, princess,” He places his hand into your hair, but, this time, instead of pulling or tugging, he simply caressed. “Such an obedient lil’ slut, aren’t you?”

Determined now, you continue your assault on his piercings, but force your head down further and further until you’re certain you’ve reached the halfway mark. Then, taking your hand off of your nipples, you trail it down to his swollen balls. You cup one inquisitively to which he gives a drawn-out followed by patting your head urgently.

Careful not to fuck up and cause Dabi immense pain, you softly squeeze his nut, rolling it under your fingers until the gesture becomes natural to you. You stare up at him and he smirks down at you, obviously pleasured judging by the way he’s biting his lip. You multitask, bobbing your head up and down as you gently squeeze his balls and play with yourself.

Your head feels like its lying on clouds, there’s no thought, no work, no nothing and you feel…

Euphoric.

And so does he.

“Be prepared, slut,” He tells you, running a hand through your hair. “I’m gonna cum soon, okay?”

You nod your head before going back to your cock-sucking endeavours, desperate to reap your well-deserved reward. Your movements hold a new vigour now you have something to work towards, you finally know what it means to be—

To be—

Happy.

Yes, that’s the word.

And, as he throws his head back and gives one final moan before cumming down your throat, you’re certain he’s happy too...

[numba99]

Fatal Attraction - Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary:When a mysterious man shows up at your job, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to him - and him to you. But behind the beautiful face is the dark lifestyle of a man who has made his wealth through becoming the most powerful drug dealer in the city. Word count: 4k whew my longest work ever I think (there are probably some typos towards the end forgive me!!!)

Song: I wanna be yours // Arctic Monkeys

Warnings: blood, stitches (please ignore if its not medically accurate I tried y’all), smut

Your eyes fluttered open as warm morning sunlight entered the room. With each slow blink, details from last night came back to you. For a few moments you were certain it wasn’t all just a dream, but the bruises on your knuckles told you it was very real.

You looked down at yourself, you were in the pajamas you had packed, but you had no memory of putting them on. You peeked inside your shirt, seeing your bra was still on. Mika must have got you into your pjs because you would have never left your bra on to sleep, no matter how exhausted you were. You thought it was sweet, though, he could have been a creep and stolen a look at you while you were passed out, but he didn’t. He really was a criminal with morals.

Speaking of your favorite criminal, you rolled over, happy to find him still in bed with you. He was closer to the other edge of the bed, which in a king-sized bed felt like a mile away. His back was to you, allowing you to sneak up behind him and wrap your arms around him.

“Morning,” he mumbled softly. His eyes were still closed, but he smiled when you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Morning,” you whispered, cuddled against him. He was so warm and solid, curing the little chill you always seemed to feel in the morning, no matter the temperature outside. You couldn’t imagine anything that would be worth leaving this bed for.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” Mika said, as if he could read your thoughts. He turned towards you, his eyes somehow even more beautiful with a hint of sleepiness in them.

“Who says we can’t?” you asked with a playful grin.

Mika chuckled, “Just about everyone who buys my product.” You thought it was interesting the way he spoke about what he did. It was all very professional, like he was working in a legitimate business. You didn’t mean that in a way to belittle what he did, clearly he did well for himself and you really didn’t have a problem with it. You wondered, though, if it was a show for you, like he thought you were more comfortable hearing “product” rather “drugs.” 

“Can they wait five more minutes?” you asked, not ready to leave this little slice of heaven just yet.

“Of course they can,” Mike replied, kissing your forehead.

“I have to say,” you began, absentmindedly running your finger over his arm, “I was a bit surprised about last night.”

“I’m glad I didn’t freak you out too much with Thomas. I was nervous you’d flip out on me,” Mika replied, watching how you touched him. He loved how delicately your hand moved along his toned forearm.

“No not that... well yeah I guess that surprised me too,” you laughed lightly. That was an understatement, but not what you were thinking of. “I mean the window thing. Not exactly what I would expect from a guy that wants to take things slow.”

Mika shrugged, “It was just the way you handled yourself, I don’t know, it got to me I guess. You're not very easy to resist, y/n.”

You were sure his words made your cheeks turn a bright shade of pink. “Guess it’s good you live so far up, or else some people would have gotten a good show,” you joked.

“I’d never let anyone else see you like that,” Mika said, laughing, though there was an edge of seriousness in his voice. You guess Mika was not a man that liked to share.

You laid together for a little while longer, but hunger got the best of you both eventually. You meandered out to the kitchen, thinking you would just be having some cereal or something. You should have known by now that Mika was not just a cereal type of guy.

“A chef?” you asked, not sure why you were even shocked. He was in the kitchen, churning out a little breakfast spread for the two of you. 

“I thought you’d be hungry after last night,” Mika replied. Your stomach growled as if to agree with him. You loaded your play with pancakes, eggs, and some fruit for good measure before settling down on one of the stools at the kitchen island. 

“Do you mind if Chris joins us?” Mika asked. You shook your head, your mouth was too full to reply verbally. 

At first you were sure Chris didn’t like you, but you think he was just very protective of Mika, which you appreciated. You guessed he thought you either just wanted him for his money, or got yourself into something that was way above your head. The former couldn’t be further from the truth and the latter, well, maybe there was a hint of truth to that. You didn’t know exactly what this lifestyle would entail, but you were prepared to do whatever it takes to keep up. You weren’t about to become a liability to Mika. With the look of approval you caught from Chris last night after handling Thomas, you think he was finally starting to see that too.

Chris came in form the elevator a few moments later, greeting you with a reserved smile, but a smile nonetheless. That was progress in your book. “We still on for tonight?” he asked as he filled his plate with eggs.

“Yeah, I’ve texted the guys to be ready at our normal spot at midnight,” Mika replied.

“What’s tonight?” you asked, not following the conversation.

“We’ve got a shipment coming in,” Mika explained, “Nothing big, really. It’s more of a decoy if anything. Dimitri’s trying to figure out where we import from so he can hijack the big one we having coming in soon.”

“Can I come?” The both shook their heads immediately.

“This isn’t like last night,” Mika replied slowly. You could tell he was trying to choose his words carefully. “Last night was secure. These things are... harder to plan for. Things can... go south fast. I don’t want you in the middle of that.” No matter how heavily he sugarcoated it, you knew he was saying there was chance he could get seriously hurt tonight, or worse. 

“You could die,” you heard yourself say. You didn’t want to sound scared or like you couldn’t handle this. Mika didn’t need another thing to worry about, and a small part of you was scared that if he thought this was going to freak you out too much he’d break things off.

“Please don’t worry, y/n,” Mika insisted, “I’ve done these countless times and I’m still here. Hell, this one is probably the safest one we’ve done in a while because we are anticipating Dimitri watching. We’ll be ready for him and any of the shit he pulls.”

Chris slung his arm around Mika’s shoulder and added, “I’d never let anything happen to Mika, I promise.” You gave them your bravest smile. It did make you feel better to hear that, but still you couldn’t complete ignore the nerves in your stomach.

“What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?”

“Isn't tonight your normal night to work a shift at the club?” Mika asked. You wondered if he planned it that way. He was right though, you were supposed to work tonight. You had almost completely forgotten about Rick’s shitty club; it felt like a lifetime ago.

“Ugh, yeah a do,” you groaned, “That place fucking sucks.” 

“Do you wanna quit?” Mika asked.

“I would love too.”

“So do it,” Mika replied casually, “You don’t need to work, I’ve got you covered.”

“Mika, I can’t, I don’t wanna mooch of you. It’s not fair,” you replied.

“You're not mooching, I want to do it,” Mika countered, “But if you want to work, I definitely support it. I’ll help you find a different job even. I just... I don’t really like the way other men look at you when you dance if I’m honest.” Yeah, he definitely didn’t like to share. You thought it was hot, though, how he spoke with such seriousness.

“Okay deal,” you replied, “I’ll work my final shift tonight and then look for something new. God it will be so nice to be able to tell off Rick once and for all.”

Chris let out a laugh, “Kinda wish I could see that.” You smiled, glad that he really seemed to be warming up to you.

“So I gotta ask,” you shifted the topic, “How did you to meet?” Mika and Chris exchanged a glance as if sharing a silent exchange of who wants to tell the story this time?

Apparently it was Chris’s turn. “Guess it’s not so crazy. I used to live with my family up in Massachusetts, but we didn’t get along well I guess you could say. My parents put a lot of pressure on me to excel in everything. They even wanted me to be a pro hockey player, I mean can you imagine?” Chris and Mika chucked before Chris continued, “Anyways, when I told them that isn’t what I wanted they basically kicked me out and cut me off. I moved to New York and started selling to get by. And that’s when I met Mika.”

“My dad used to have me scout guys,” Mika picked up the story, “Trying to figure out who we could recruit to work for us. I just clicked with Chris unlike I have with anyone else. He's one of the few people I trust completely.” Chris smiled bashfully at Mika’s words. You could tell they meant a lot to each other and you were happy Mika had such a great friend.

“I’m glad you have each other,” you replied. Specifically glad that Mika had Chris. It would make you nervous (well more nervous than you already are) for Mika to be out doing this without someone to have his back. Especially someone like Chris who, the more time you spent, with the more you were convinced he could wrestle a grizzly bear.

The rest of the day was pretty quiet. Mika was extremely calm for someone about to go out and break the law while being watched by some lunatic mobster. You spent much of your time laid beside him, his hand lazily tracing lines over your body as he made phone calls to the other guys finalizing the details. You wished you could get in his head and see if he actually had any fear, or if he was just being brave so you wouldn’t freak out.

Eventually, it came time for you both to go to your respective jobs. Hopefully it would only be your final time doing it. “Hey, don’t look so scared,” Mika said softly, tucking his finger under your chin and pushing it up so you had to look at him. “Everything gonna be okay, I promise. By the time you’re done with your shift at the club I’ll be home. You won't even have time to miss me.”

You couldn’t help but smile softly at the way he spoke to you. It filled you with such a sweet warmth and comfort. “I’ll be racing you back,” you teased, trying to show him you weren’t as nervous as you truly were.

“I know you will be,” Mika smirked, “So on the off chance you beat me to it, or if you need anything at all while I’m out, Lias is gonna be. We always have one person stay back in case- just for precaution. If you need anything call him.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around him tightly. Mika gave you a peck on the lips and you returned it, which ended up in full blown making out in his living room. 

“Jesus there are plenty rooms in this apartment you guys need to find one,” a voice quipped. Lias had let himself in. You and Mika both rolled your eyes and laughed. “Chris and the guys are waiting for you in the car downstairs.”

“Thanks Lias. Make sure you keep your phone on you if we need anything,” Mika turned to you and kissed your forehead before saying, “I’ll see you soon.” You gave your bravest smile as a goodbye and watched him disappear into the elevator. You wanted to go out with him so you could spend as much time with him as possible, but Mika was concerned about being seen with you. As far as he knew, Dimitri didn't know where he lived, but he still didn’t wanna risk it if he was watching.

So after ten minutes passed, you set off to the club one last time. Despite your nerves there was a go giddy excitement coursing through your veins. There were so many times you fantasized about telling Rick off and now you were finally going to be able to do it.

That was all you thought about during your shift. Well that and Mika, but you were trying to not make yourself a nervous wreck and that was the best distraction. It definitely wasn’t your best night in terms of tips but you really couldn’t give less of a fuck. It wasn’t about the money. You were just there to fill the time. Each song brought you closer to giving Rick what he deserves. Each song brought you closer to Mika.

And finally it was time. You eagerly changed back into your street clothes, hugging the girls you worked with goodbye. They didn’t ask questions about why you were quitting. That was best part of this profession, the girls you worked with understood life could be... complicated. You were glad you didn’t have to come up with a lie.

“I’d like to talk to you, Rick,” you stated, shutting the door to his office behind you. It was less office and more closet he turned into a makeshift office to feed his sense of self importance.

Rick smiled a sleazy smile, “Finally gonna take me up on that offer to fu-”

“Oh would you shut the fuck up,” you snapped, stunning him into a brief silence.

“You can’t talk to me like that,” Rick fired back. He could be loud, but you were scared of him. He was coward and he wouldn’t lay a hand on you. Even if he did, you knew Mika would crush him in a second if he heard.

“I can do whatever the fuck I want. Because I quit,” you began, “You are never going to lay one of your disgusting fucking fingers on me again. Or any of these girls for that matter. None of them want to fuck you, they're just to scared to tell you off because you’re their gross, manipulative boss.”

“Why don’t you j-”

“I’m not fucking finished,” you cut him off, “If I hear you even so much as make one creepy comment towards any of these girls I promise you it will be the last thing you ever do. Got it?” You hadn’t realized you were getting closer to him as you spoke until you were right in his face. You never saw him look so afraid. It felt good.

“Got it,” he gulped.

“Great,” you flashed a mean-spirited smile, “Don’t even bother paying me for the shift tonight. I don’t need your money.” With that you left, feeling on top of the fucking world. You almost forgot about what Mika was out doing. Almost. 

Once the high of quitting wore off, you were practically running home. Had you not been so caught up in wanting to see Mika so badly, you may have thought more about how you were already referring to Mika’s place as “home” even though you haven’t even moved in. That didn’t matter right now, you just wanted to see his face.

You rushed into the apartment, nerves creeping in as you noted how quiet it was. You found Lias in the living room where you left him. Alone.

“They’re not back yet?” you asked, holding out hope Mika had slipped away to the bathroom.

“No, um, should be here soon,” Lias told you, though there was something off in his voice. He knew something he wasn’t telling you.

“Lias... did something happen?” Your heart was pounding your ears.

“It’s nothing really everything is-”

“Lias fucking tell me what happened,” you snapped. You couldn’t bare another moment in suspense. 

“There was a fight,” Lias relented, “Not Dimitri’s people, but they were attacked.” Before you could ask what he meant by that, the elevator doors lid open. Chris walked in with his arm around Mika, who was bleeding down his face from his forehead.

“Oh my god,” you gasped. You knew head wounds bled more than other wounds even if they weren’t that bad, but the amount of blood dripping down his face was startling. 

“It’s not as bad it looks,” Mika insisted. You rush over to him as Chris sat him down at on one of the stools in the kitchen.

“Seriously, you should see the other guy,” Chris added with a smirk, “Poor guy won’t be getting a date any time soon.” Mika and Chris had a laugh, as if Mika wasn’t still currently bleeding. You inspected the gash above his eyebrow, a little less than an inch long. You ran a finger over the skin around it and Mika winced.

“This is gonna need stitches,” you stated, getting a close a look as possible. It didn’t appear to go down to the bone, thank god.

“We can’t go to a hospital,” Mika told you, “Hospitals take names and ask questions.”

“Have you got a first aid kit?” you asked.

Chris nodded, “Should be a fully stocked one in the closet upstairs.”

“Grab it and bring it to the bathroom. Lias can you get some towels, please? Either dark ones or old ones. This will stain.” You held out your hand, which Mika took, but not without a quizzical look. You led him to the bathroom.

“Do you know how to do stitches?” Mika asked as you sat him down at the toilet. You turned on the tap, letting it run warm.

“I was studying to be a nurse before I left college,” you explained. By that time Lias had dropped off some black towels. You soaked one, gently removing the blood that had dripped down his neck.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Mika asked, eyeing you with wonderment. You were trying to focus on wiping the blood around to wound off without pulling it open more, but his eyes on you clouded your thoughts.

“Long division,” you joked, mostly for yourself. You needed to lighten the mood. Once you got enough of the blood off, you instructed Mika to press the towel against his head to prevent anymore from coming out. Just then, Chris brought in the first aid kit.

“Need any help in here?” he asked.

“No, thank you,” you replied, your eyes scanning the interior of kit. You were relieved that it had everything you needed. Chris said something you didn’t really catch as you pulled out the disinfectant. You poured it on to the gauze and handed it to Mika. “Put this over the cut. It’s gonna sting, but it’s gotta get clean.” 

Mika followed your instruction without question, though he did wince when the gauze touched his skin. “Jesus this hurt more than the actual cut.”

“Sorry,” you replied empathically. 

“Not your fault baby,” he replied, his free hand finding the back of your thigh and rubbing it lightly. You ignored how it made your stomach flip as you tried to thread the need. It took you three tries.

“Try to hold still,” you said quietly as you positioned yourself over him. Your hands were shaking slightly, it had been awhile since you had done this. After a deep breath you were able to proceed, and you were surprised how easily it came back to you. Mika was an amazing patient, only a few little twitches of a frown as the needle went through his skin and the sutures closed up the wound.

“All done,” you said, letting out the breath you didn’t realize you're holding. You took a step back to admire your work. You were surprised at how good they looked. 

Mika stood up and checked himself in the mirror. “Wow, you’re amazing, you know that right?” he marveled at you. It made your knees weak.

“You were the bravest patient I ever had,” you told him. He didn't need to know your only other patients included little kids at summer camps.

“Hope you don’t mind how they make me look,” Mika teased, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I think it suits you,” you replied. It was weirdly hot, in a way. “Plus, I’ve always loved a scar on a man.” You gently thumbed his forehead, just a few inches above the wound.

Mika’s eyes clouded over lightly. At first you couldn't quite place it, but when his lips found your neck you realized it was lust. “How can I repay you?” he asked in a tone that told you he already had an idea.

You slipped your hand under his jaw, making him look at you. You took a second to admire the look in his eyes, before whispering. “Like this.” Your lips were on his in an instant. You kissed each other hungrily. Your hands tangled through his hair while his found your ass. He gave you a slight squeeze and you jumped up, wrapping your legs around him. 

He was able to carry you effortlessly to his bedroom without ever losing contact with your lips. You fell into the clouds of his bed sheets gently, as Mika admired you from above. As much as his stare intoxicate you, you needed him. You reached up, pulling him on top of you.

Clothes feel off between kisses and gentle moans. Mika made it clear the other night that he was well-versed in foreplay activities, but right now you just wanted him. Nothing besides him inside you would satisfy the ache you felt between your legs.

Mika sensed this, reaching down to run his finger through you folds. He made sure you were wet enough for him and you were more than certain you were. Though when he removed the last of his clothes, there was a sliver of doubt in you. He was big, both long and thick.

“We’ll start slow,” Mika smirked, noting the look in your eye when you saw him. You didn’t have time to be embarrassed about being caught staring, he was already getting himself ready to push into you.

It didn't happen with you fistfuls of sheets and some gasps, but he managed to get himself all the way inside you. Mika was normally very composed, but you could see his willpower was crumbling as he felt your tightness around him.

Mika kept yo his word, moving slowing until you both adjusted to the feeling of the other. It didn’t take too long before he was able to move with more speed and strength. He felt unbelievably good inside you; you never felt so full in your life. His strokes were long but fast. It was the perfect mix of needy and passionate. He’d been thinking about this moment as long as you had.

Your orgasm approached surprisingly quickly. You clawed at Mika’s back, feeling the pleasure build to a near unbearable level.

“Fuck, Mika,” you gasped when you couldn’t hold on any longer. The sweet warm sensation of bliss filled you completely. You moaned into Mika’s neck as he kept going until he came along with you. The sounds he made were music to your ears.

Mika slowed up and let you both ride out the last few moments of your highs. He was panting lightly by the time he fell beside you on the bed. He had you in his arms within seconds.

“I guess neither of us understand the concept of slow,” you teased.

Mika chuckled, kissed the top of your head, “You get me. That’s why you’re my girl. Forever.”

[carryonmywaywardwriters]

Taphophobia - Dean x Reader (One Shot)

A/N: Okay, this is going a little slow. But, seems to be going still. I have this edited piece, and then at least one drabble to post before I crash. As usual, feedback is always incredible. I hope you all enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse. Phobias. Being buried alive. Reader death. Nothing but angst.

Word Count: Roughly 2,700

“What's your biggest fear?” The air chilled around you and Dean. Fogging up the breath you let out into the night. Sixteen years old, and too many cares in the world.

Hunting did that to a person. Aged them young. You both felt as if you were forty. Weighed down by the weight of others' lives.

“My biggest fear?” He passed over the whiskey, and leaned back against the tree behind him. Humming a bit as he thought. Looking up at the moon as you rolled up the sleeves to his jacket over your own arms. “I don't know...I guess...” The Winchester inhaled deeply, trying to settle on one as you took a swig. “I guess being alone.” His lips tightened as he dwelled on it for a moment. “Yeah, I think that's it. Sammy...he's already talkin' college. And being left with dad...”

“Being alone sounds less scary than being left alone with John,” You shuddered at the very idea. Thinking of the bruises that had been known to line Dean's body.

He told everyone it was monsters. Always had. Yet, you knew better. A drunk, angry John Winchester was a force to be reckoned with. Dean rarely came out on top. But, he took it so you and Sam never had to. Always had been, and always would be, your hero.

“At least he's familiar,” The green eyes turned towards you. Trying to see the positive.

However, he must not have been able to. They widened as he imagined life alone with his father. Silently asking that you didn't leave him to face the reality. Didn't force him to make the choice between facing the emptiness he was so scared of, and the harsh life he'd live with only John by his side.

“Yeah...I get that.” The words seemed to relax him a little more. Letting a deep, heavy sigh leave the boy that carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Your own parents had been killed six years prior. You'd just been a kid. So had Dean. The only reason John had allowed you to join the crew was so that Sam was never left on his own. Unfair? Perhaps, but that's how things were.

The Winchesters were all you had. If it came down to choosing John over nothing? You'd choose the abuse. As sad and lonely as it would be. Anything to be close to the memories of Sam and Dean.

“Now, what about you?” Dean's brow rose. Asking you to dig deep. You took another large swig in response. Letting the burn down your throat give you strength. “That bad?”

“It just freaks me out,” You shuddered, passing over the bottle for Dean to finish. Wincing a bit at the after taste. “You know I don't like small spaces?” An easy nod was his answer.

It was no secret. Hiding away, in the back of a closet was the first thing you were able to remember. Listening to the screams of your family. Hearing the roar of the wolf that had tore their beating hearts from their bodies. That kind of thing left scars.

Maybe even more than holding a baby brother while everything burned had impacted Dean. At least he hadn't been able to see Mary on the ceiling. You could see the flash of blood through the panel's cracks. See the bodies being thrown.

John had tossed you in a coat closet, once. His version of a fitting punishment. For simply grabbing his fist before it could hit the squared jaw of the oldest boy.

While you were in there, you could hear John raving. Words slurring as he tore Dean a new one verbally. Not even caring that Sam would be witness for once. Too deep in the drink and grief to care, anymore.

When Dean had opened up the door, the damage had been done. Eleven years old, and mentally broken. Tears trailed down your face as the heavy panting left your parted lips. Too trapped in the memories to move.

The older brother had to crawl in next to you. Drained and all, he'd helped you ground yourself enough to walk away. To plaster a smile on your face to tell the youngest that everything would be okay.

“Just small spaces?” His brow furrowed at that. Remembering it all. Wondering, not for the first time, just how damaged his father had left you.

“Almost,” You shrugged, tugging Dean's leather jacket closer around your body. Needing that sense of security as you faced what haunted your dreams. “Being buried alive.” His head tilted a bit as you explained. “There's the small space, for one. The lack of control that comes with it. You can't escape...it isn't slow, either. You have time to panic. To try and claw your way to safety...but, in the end? There's not a thing you can do.”

Every nightmare you'd ever had stared back at you. There wasn't a thing you hadn't imagined. The terror that came with it sank into your bones.

“Come here,” Dean tugged you closer, holding you under his strong grasp. His chin rested along your scalp. “Let's think about something more positive, alright? I'm kinda sick of all the doom and gloom.” Sick of seeing your unease. He wanted you happy. Safe.

As you nodded, his lips dropped to press against your temple. Telling you how much you meant to him without words. A gentle squeeze pulled some of the tension from your body. Trusting him to keep you secure. After all, he always had.

–

“Where is she?” Dean growled out, stalking forward with fury in his green eyes. The male witch was shoved backwards by his throat.

There was no fear present in his face. No remorse. Simply amusement. As if he got off on causing pain.

“You aren't going to make it in time,” The being bit out gleefully. Looking up at the hunter with a smug grin. It didn't fade when the solid fist slammed into his head. If anything, it only grew stronger despite the blood dripping down his chin. “She had six hours...if she's lucky.”

“You better hope you're wrong.” Magic stalling cuffs held him captive. Leaving Dean time to play. Time he didn't have.

Every minute ticked by faster and faster. Making the Winchester more desperate with each click from the clock. Torture was a trick he'd learned to keep under wraps. However, he had no problem placing each cut into the unmarred skin of the witch. Ensuring that his pain would be too much to bear. Sure enough, it worked. “She's buried,” The bloodied being hissed out, arching against his restraints. “But, that's all you're getting from me, Winchester.”

“You did what?” The hunter roared, grabbing the man by his collar. His stomach twisting at the thought. He could hear your voice from all those years ago. Echoing in his head as his fist slammed into the smug face. Over and over again. Not caring if the witch was dead, or just unconscious. It was only the thought of time running low that pulled him away. “Sammy?” Dean was on the move as he called his brother. “We need to get some shovels. Start looking for any disturbed ground.”

“Why?” The younger man's voice cracked in fear. He had reason to be terrified. There was only minutes left. If you were lucky.

“The bastard threw her in the dirt,” Dean bit out, already on the prowl. Needing to fix everything. To save you. “We've got two acres to cover. He figured six hours, Sam...”

“Dean...what if-”

“Don't say it.” The biting tone ended the thought before it could escape. Terror squeezed at his heart. It was if he was feeling what you were. Suddenly his lungs burned. “We're going to make it in time. We have to, Sammy.”

“I'll meet you around back,” Sam stated softly. Almost as though he felt it was hopeless. Dean ended the call with a slam. Refusing to buy into the negativity.

It would be okay. You would be fine. You had to be.

Ten minutes. Twenty. By thirty, Dean was coated in sweat. His heart raced as he desperately searched over the ground.

Then, he saw it. The disturbed dirt was nestled beside a tree. At the very end of the property.

“Sam!” He shouted, already on the move. By the time his brother made it to his side, the flannel had been discarded. A large dent in the top started.

“Holy shit,” Sam muttered, taking in the size of the hole. There was little mistaking what rested underneath the dirt.

Neither brother said a word from that point on. Too afraid to do more than shovel. And pray that everything would be fine. Miracles happened every day. If anyone was due for one, it was you. Holding onto that thought, the dug until their muscles ached.

They'd ripped open a million graves in their life time. But this time? They were digging up yours. And it made all of the difference. What would usually take hours, and breaks only took them a fraction of the time.

You were down to seconds as Dean threw the final layer of dirt out with his bare hands. Exposing the shiny coffin that had been reported missing eight hours before. The witch had planned on nabbing one of them. You'd just happened to be in the way.

“Y/N!” He yelled out, yanking it open. There was no sound outside of their harsh breathing. You didn't move- didn't react- as the light hit your face. The color was leeched from your skin. “Y/N?” The broken crack left Dean as he stared. Trying to see movement. Anything to tell him you were okay. There was no fluttering of your eyelashes. No twitch in your limbs. Not even the rise and fall of your chest. “No,” He whispered; his eyes filling with the water he'd been fighting so hard to repress. “No...god, please...no.” He was lunging at you, then. Checking for your pulse. Even knowing that there would be none. “Damn it, Y/N...” Dean bit out, moving his hands to yours to begin chest compressions. “You can't leave me, okay? Not like this.” You didn't answer as he slammed his hands over your sternum rapidly. He bent over, pinching your nose before breathing into your parted lips.

Sam watched as his brother lost it. The tears slipped down the dirt covered skin only to land on your body. Cracking filled the air as the force of his will broke your ribs. But, there was no in drawn breath.

Fifteen minutes passed before the younger brother couldn't take anymore, “Dean...” Yet, the older brother didn't stop. Begging you quietly through gritted teeth to open those E/C eyes inside that coffin. “I...I think she's gone.” Sam's voice cracked, watching the scene unfold helplessly.

“She can't be,” Dean hissed out, starting to slow. His arms burned. The breath leaving his lips was ragged. Sweat trailed lines across his grey t-shirt and dirt coated skin. But, none of that mattered. Not so long as your chest didn't rise on its own.

“Dean-”

“No!” He shouted back. Voice hard and filled with threats of violence if anything got between him and you. “She's alive, damn it. She has to be...I have...I have to save her.” But that time, his movements ceased. It was beginning to sink in. “I...” His words ended as he looked down at the blue tint to your skin. There was no coming back. Your nails were ripped to shreds. Hands raw and bloody from your attempts to dig the coffin open. The material above your head was shredded. You'd fought til the end, he was sure. “Y/N?” The finality of it sunk in when you didn't respond. He lost it in earnest, then. “I...I...I'm...I'm so...so s...sorry, sweetheart.” His fingers ran through your hair, gently. Shaking as a broken sob left him. Sam could only sit back and watch as his brother mourned the love of his life.

It was daylight by the time he managed to pull himself away to begin building a pyre. The younger brother had it over half done. Preparing to give you a hunter's funeral. It felt more right. You had never been scared of fire.

Dean carried your body to the pile; kissing the cold forehead as he'd set you up on the wooden stand. When he'd pulled away, he willed you to move. Anything to tell him it was all a bad dream. That he was making a mistake.

There was nothing. With a defeated sigh, he stepped back. A small crack sounded, making him jerk down to the noise. Your phone rested on the ground, underneath his boot.

You'd never felt the need for that kind of privacy a password offered. He swiped the screen. Preparing to shut it off. Only, the sight of a sending message caught his attention.

An audio file glared up at him. Daring him to listen. Slowly, he pressed play. Raising it to his ear.

“Dean...I don't know if I have much time left,” Your voice shook into the phone's speaker. Dean looked over to the pile your covered body rested in. Forcing himself to remember that he wasn't hearing you in that moment. “I shouldn't be talking... It uses the air faster...I...I know that.” The broken edge that followed let him know that you were crying. “But, I'm getting tired...” He swallowed tightly; his eyes beginning to water at the anguish he was hearing. Dean had thought he'd been out of tears. He'd never been more wrong. “And I'm scared...” He'd known you would have been. But, hearing the words tore through him even more. “So...so scared.” A sniffle followed, “It's okay, though...” You swallowed tightly, trying to compose yourself. “Because...I know...I know this means...means that you're safe. He didn't get to you, first.” A weak laugh left your lips. As if that made everything alright, again. “And I know you won't be alone.” A thud sounded as your elbow hit the lid. He could picture you trying to wipe away the tears. His heart squeezed at the message. “Sammy's home, now.” The shakiness as you fought to remain strong was apparent. Not for yourself. But, for him. “He'll stay with you...If...If he doesn't, I'll haunt him. Burned body be damned.” You coughed, then. The air thickening the more you talked. There must have been some fight left in you. The beating of your fists could be heard before another sob, and a broken cry escaped. He hated the sound of it, but clung to the fact that you hadn't been completely resigned to your fate. You had been strong. If only it had been enough. “I just...I love you, okay?” You came back to your senses, for a moment. Remembering your mission. “I know...I know I say it a lot...but, I needed you to hear it right...right now.” Another sniff left you as you repressed the tears for a moment longer. “This isn't your fault, Dean...this...I'm...I'm okay with...with this being it...if..if it is.” Your final, gasping words that he'd ever hear had him dropping to his knees, “You're not alone, Dean...You're not...not gonna be all alone. I promise...That's what matters, alright? You're...you're not alone.”

The message ended, then. Leaving him to realize that your biggest fear hadn't truly been being buried alive, after all. You'd been trapped in that coffin. Facing the thing that you had claimed to be the one thing you couldn't handle. But, in the end? It had been something much deeper.

Your biggest fear had been that Dean would be, or feel, all alone. And have to face what you'd both been terrified of with it. The thing that he hadn't realized? His biggest fear hadn't truly been being alone. It had simply been being without you...

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger

[idontgiveaflyinggrayson69]

Not A Leafs Fan, Part 1

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

Requested: Nope, consider it a gift for @butcanijustnot

Tagging: @aw-hawkeye @caswinchester2000 @hockeybabe87

Fandom: NHL

Relationship: Pre-Established; Auston Matthews x Reader

Summary: The Reader meets Auston in a coffee shop in Toronto.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None.

Living in or around Toronto was crazy because literally everyone supported the Leafs, no matter how trash they were doing. Your household was just like that. From a young age, liking the Toronto Maple Leafs was conditioned into you. As a kid you would cheer for the blue jerseys, not really understanding why.

But, as you got older, you were able to see that the Leafs were in fact a pretty bad team. So, you switched alliances to (Favourite Team). You were a traitor in the eyes of your family, and, if you were being honest, the more you heard about how “traitorous” you were and how “the Leafs will make a comeback, you’ll see” the less and less you liked them.

Before you had been neutral to the Leafs, now you were against them. But, you still lived in Toronto and that wasn’t something you could say out loud. So, you didn’t, you just kept it to yourself.

Other thing was Auston Matthews. You could admit that he was a goodplayer, but the hype about him, the non-stop talking about how great he was, the fucking song, led you to strongly disliking the guy. Which kinda sucked because you knew he was a good player and also really freaking adorable.

But the fuss, particularly from your father and his family, led you to making a verbal statement, by which you would be forced to stand: you hated Auston Matthews.

You became known as the girl who hated Auston Matthews, which was fine by you since you were also the “traitor.” And it didn’t matter if you didn’t actually hate him, you were fine with playing the role.

It wasn’t like you were ever going to be in a situation in which your true colours were revealed…

Toronto is a big city, but apparently it wasn’t big enough.

All you wanted was a coffee.

You had a long day ahead of you. You had class and then (Favourite Team) was playing the Leafs in the Air Canada Centre that night and your family thought it would be fun to go see the game, all of you, together. All of them dressed in Leafs gear and you, the only one dressed in (Favourite Team) gear.

The best part was that the seats were right against the glass in the Leafs’ end…

But, again, all you wanted was a coffee.

So, you went to your favourite coffee shop and got your coffee before sitting down and pulling out some of your work. You did frequently because it was nice to work on your papers while sitting in a coffee shop.

It didn’t take long for the place to be pretty much packed. It was Toronto after all. You were sitting alone at a table for two, typing on your computer with your notebook out. You didn’t realize that you were sitting at one of the only tables with an empty seat.

“Excuse me. Can I sit here?” You heard a man say. You looked up for a moment before looking around the coffee shop to see that everywhere else was taken.

You smiled. “Of course. Don’t mind me, just working on a paper.”

The guy nodded and sat down at the table and sipped on his coffee.

“(Favourite Team) fan, eh?” He asked you after a few moments and you smiled.

“Yeah.”

If Auston was being honest, there were two other places he could have asked to sit or he could have just left. But he saw you sitting in a busy coffee shop in Toronto with a sticker for (Favourite Team) on your laptop and he couldn’t notgo talk to you about it.

“Not the Leafs?” He asked you.

You sighed, not looking up from your computer. “They got annoying.”

Auston laughed. “Annoying, eh?”

You furrowed your brows. Something about his laughed seemed familiar to you… You just couldn’t…

Auston raised an eyebrow at your reaction and leaned back in the chair, his hat no longer obstructing his face. You looked up from your computer and shook your head with tight lips. Auston smiled.

“I—“ You tried, but failed to find the right words, continuing to shake your head, though a smile was crawling onto your smile.

“We’re annoying?” He asked again, smiling at you.

You gestured towards him. “Prime example.”

Auston laughed at your answer and nodded. “That’s fair. So, does that make me the most annoying because I can think of a few other guys who are worse.”

“Are you saying that you agree your team is annoying?” You asked him, closing your laptop and leaning forwards across the table.

Auston opened and then closed his mouth, giving you a sly look. “Smart move there…” Auston trailed off, not knowing your name.

“(Y/N).” You answered.

Auston sat up in his chair and extended his hand to you. “Nice to meet you, (Y/N). I’m Auston.”

You shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Auston.”

And so, you and Auston got to talking and it was really nice. You explained to him that your whole family were Leafs fans and that was part of the annoying part, and he found that funny. But, you never told him you were going to the game that night.

“I better get going.” Auston said softly and you nodded.

“It was nice to meet you.” You smiled.

Auston nodded. “It was really nice talking to you.”

You expected Auston to get up and leave but he didn’t. Instead, he just sat there. You raised an eyebrow to him.

Auston sighed and reached across the table for your notebook and pen. You looked at him confused but he was busy writing. As soon as he was done, he pushed the notebook and pen back to you and stood up. You looked down confused.

Auston (416)-258-3934

You looked up at him and he smiled. “In case you’re interested in getting converted to the right team.”

He winked at you and walked out of the coffee shop leaving you there in shock and confused. Which is how you continued throughout your day. Shocked and confused. You added his number into your phone but you never texted him.

You were nervous going to the game and your nerves only got worse as you and your family found your seats against the glass and the time before the teams took the ice started to go down.

You were right against the glass dressed in (Favourite Player from Favourite Team)’s jersey having gotten Auston Matthews’ number just hours beforehand. There was no way he wasn’t going to see you and you were terrified of what was going to happen…

The Leafs took the ice and were skating around, doing the warm up and what not and as the seconds ticked by and nothing happened, you started to convince yourself that you were fine. He didn’t know you were there, he wasn’t going to be looking for you, he wasn’t going to pay attention to some fans against the glass.

You were wrong.

Auston skated right by you and came to a quick stop before skating back to stand in front of you. He was smiling and laughing and your family was freaking out and you were dying inside.

You were sitting near one of the holes in the glass for cameras, so Auston took his glove off and picked up one of the pucks and stuck it through the glass for you. You took it with a smile, but you were still slowly dying inside from the embarrassment. All the while your family and the other people around you were losing their shit.

Auston gave you another smile before he skated back off for warm up.

You watched as the Leafs did their warm up and did your best to ignore your family’s freak out. But, Auston wasn’t done.

It was towards the end of warm ups and he remembered that you hadn’t called him, hadn’t even texted him. And you were with your family and surrounded by the sea of blue and Auston was a trouble maker.

So, Auston skated over to you again causing your family and the other people around you to freak out. You held your breath and Auston took off his glove again and brought his hand up to his head like a phone before mouthing “why” to you.

You felt yourself blush at his words and shrugged back.

Auston gave you a look and bent down to speak through the camera hole. “Not even a text?”

Your family had gone silent and you were starting to panic a little. You pulled up your phone and went to messages, pulling up Auston’s name and sending a text “Are you happy now?” and pressed your phone screen up against the glass once it had sent.

Auston gave you an innocent smile and nodded before skating off, leaving you to deal with your family.

“What was that?” Your mother asked. You opened your mouth to answer, but she cut you off. “And don’t say it’s nothing, because that was not nothing.”

“I’m going to be completely honest. I don’t know. And I will do my best to explain when we aren’t in a sea of Matthews fans.” You said and gave both your parents pointed looks when they opened their mouths to counter you.

They nodded.

The warm up came to a close and the players headed back to the locker room while the Zamboni came out. You felt your phone buzz a few minutes later.

Auston: Very :)

You smiled at your phone.

Maybe the Leafs weren’t so bad after all.

Link to Part 2           Link to Part 3

[ticklefits]

Distant Yearning

AO3 LINK !

the adventure zone : balance | taagnus | words : 5364

summary :  Magnus remembers Taako acting a little weird about something and it got him curious enough to ask about it, much to Taako's embarrassment.

“Hey, pst, Taako -- you up?”

It has to be at least two in the morning when the soft, yet audible rumble of vocals belonging to Magnus pierces the late night silence of the room. Unsurprising, Taako is awake, albeit not by choice ( insomnia’s a real burden ). Merle and Robbie, stationed messily underneath their blankets, remain in sound deep sleep; made obvious by the occasional gargantuan snores that drag from the dwarf’s mouth and the smaller ones from Robbie. At first, Taako ignores Magnus’s call, opting instead to stare at the nearest wall within the room’s darkness, groggy and somewhat agitated from the lack of a much needed repose. It’s only when the warrior addresses him again, and then a third time, that Taako raises his upper frame with the support of his elbows, leaning over the side of the wooden frame that separates each bed, to peer down into the bottom bunk and hisses out “Mags, it is two in the goddamn morning."

Magnus seems to stiffen at that, instinctively delivering an apologetic smile to the smaller elf . “Yeah, ah, my bad, but listen, something’s been weighing pretty heavy on my mind for awhile and it has to do with you.”

Those words alone cause the contents of Taako’s stomach to churn, a sense of anxiety already beginning to creep from the recesses of his mind. He forces himself to sustain his semi-irritated expression and conceal any display of how that singular sentence is already making him sweat with anticipation of what Magnus is going to say.

“...Well? Ain't got all night my man, spill the tea already.” Taako urges, all too impatient to hear what is so goddamn important about himself that Magnus couldn't have kept this in until a decent hour -- namely no sooner than noon .

The larger man's visage contorts in an expression that reads half curiosity and half apprehension, as if he has abruptly decided that maybe he shouldn't have mentioned anything at all. It's too late for that though; he's got Taako's nerves whirling around like flies at a summer barbeque and if he doesn't come out with it already, it's very plausible that Taako will end up forcing it out of him one way or another. He carries his own chest of secrets, the same as everyone else, and the fear that someone, somehow, might have unlocked it and discovered something detrimental about him, terrifies the absolute shit out of him. With another gesture of urgency, Taako finally persuades Magnus to continue on.

"Uh, okay, okay, well -- this might just be stupid, or I might've just been imagining things when it happened, y'know, 'cause lotsa stuff was sorta happening all at once and there was the void fish and it's great, big, everything and--"

"Magnus, you have one more chance - count it - one more chance to tell me whatever stupid thing you have to tell me before I put you back to sleep myself." But Taako did register hearing something about the void fish, which has only served to confuse him further. What could he possibly have to do with the void fish?

"Okay! Okay, okay, so… uh.. You remember when we first met Johann in the elevator? And he was super sad and I didn't know the reason why, but I wanted him to be happy like any ol' good citizen would?"

"... Yeaaah..?"

"So I tickled him." Taako has to clench the bed frame a bit to bite back a shiver at that word. " Normal reactions all around, except… I noticed you were acting a little.. Off?"

Oh gods. Oh gods. Oh gods. If Taako's suspicions and anxieties are true, then Magnus discovering this particular secret is probably one of the worst ones he could know. He delivers his best facade of indifference, simply nodding and allowing Magnus to continue - if he begins to act out again at the mention of it, it might set Magnus off.

"The first time, I was like, whatever, he's probably just weirded out, and that's fine, like that's definitely a Taako thing, but then when I did it again is when things kinda… I dunno, intensified maybe? That might not be the right word but."

The blond could only hope this was a dream. A horribly taunting dream where Magnus had unearthed one of his deepest secrets, that absolutely no one knew about him, that was so well concealed he couldn't even begin to piece together how someone could end up knowing unless Taako himself had screwed the pooch. He goes silent in his internal prayers for this all to be a scene of his imagination and hopefully, his insomnia will do its duty and kick in again, waking him before any additional embarrassment can rear its ugly head.

"You were fidgeting and looking away from Johann and I, but sometimes your eyes would flicker back to us, and then away again. I swear I even saw your lips twitching. And you had this look like you were… yearning? I dunno, like I said, it could be hella stupid and I could be reading way too much into things."

Quietude sustains from Taako, almost too far gone into his own thoughts and wishes for none of this to be reality, as Magnus single handedly picked apart every little subtle sign that Taako had unknowingly granted his vision with, as if the elf had lain daisies out for him to effortlessly pluck. If he were any less freaked right now, he could commend Magnus for his observational skills. Finally, Taako gulps down the lump that infiltrated his throat and constricted the breath he couldn't take while Magnus had been speaking, willing the sweat that was beginning to form at his temple to dry.

"I'm.. I'm pretty sure you're just grasping at straws, Mags. I was just.. Offput 'cause you… Did that to a total stranger." He bluffs, heterochromatic eyes rolling to attempt to emphasize his faux apathy towards the situation.

"Uh huh," Magnus hums, and his stare towards Taako is all of a sudden intense, as if peering deep beyond the lavender - jade of his irises, to see what the elf has hidden behind those long, thick lashes of his. "And so… what if I decided to do it to someone who isn't a total stranger?"

Taako's eyes widen. His breathing begins to cut short again and his toes curl under the blanket on instinct. What.. The hell is going on right now?

"What if I decided to tickle you?"

That's when Taako chokes. He chokes on fucking air, has to level himself after a brief, strangled coughing fit so as to refrain from waking up their other two roommates; the last thing the wizard needs is two extra idiots looking to embarrass him. His gaze returns to Magnus, incredulous in expression, with plump lips slightly agape and cheeks tinted in obvious roseate hues. It's been at least two minutes and he hasn't delivered any sort of response other than nearly asphyxiating himself on oxygen out of sheer surprise of the fighter's words. What's the point in even saying something like that? To get a reaction out of him? To cause him more chagrin than he's already suffering with? He doesn't possess the spoons to ask Magnus that question right now, especially with the way that amber eyes maintain that focused gaze on him -- Taako meets his line of sight for a second and instantly regrets the decision.

Butterflies assault the insides of his stomach, making it nigh impossible to look Magnus in the eye right now. Could he have… the same thing Taako has? Despite Taako's palpable discomposure in regards to it, he knows that while it isn't exactly a common thing, it also isn't something totally outlandish - especially compared to some of the other kinks has been unfortunately exposed to. His blush darkens against his will, finally, slowly, providing a verbal response to his still waiting companion.

"You… um.. Why would you even..?"

Magnus' features revert back a little bit, growing soft and curious once again. "Because… I'm kinda the same, I guess? It's kinda been a thing for me for awhile. I'm assuming it's like that for you too."

"I… I-I gotta say Magnus, I'm learning a lot more about you than I thought I would and that I think would rather not know." But there's bemusement in those words; a signal that means Taako doesn't really mean what he says. At least, not all of it. Magnus only releases a small, deep chuckle and shrugs his broad shoulders.

"I guess it'd be easier to say, that I couldn't really help myself when I started noticing the signs you were putting out. You have some really.. Kinetic energy. It was like… I could feel some sort of invisible pull from you."

That only darkens Taako's freckled cheeks even more. This entire conversation has been nothing but one giant trip for him , what with Magnus not only discovering his inclination for tickling but even bringing how own desire for it to light. What's even more wild? Magnus definitely wants to tickle him -- his eyes proved that he was practically hungry for it, and gods, Taako can still feel the goosebumps decorating his flesh from the sheer magnitude of the fighter's earlier peer. On one hand, this could be terrible. Sure, he and Magnus have some sort of weird, unspoken chemistry between them and it shows when they interact with each other. Magnus is steadily learning how to handle someone like Taako and it's crazy, Taako thinks, but at the same time, a… comforting sort of thought? On the other hand, Taako has been in the worst craving moods ever since he witnessed Magnus and Johann. Even before that, the elf would be burdened with the occasional craving and have no way of relief. Magnus could… maybe… become that outlet, and if what the other says is true, then Taako, could do the same for him in return.

Yet and still, he and Magnus have a long journey ahead of them and still many paths to cross and situations to deal with it… this sort of thing is more than just a silly prank or a playful way to tease to Taako. It's a very personal and intimate extension of himself, something not another soul has shared with him. Until this burly, dog loving dork anyway… and perhaps, this some kind of a sign.

A sign that his life is, finally, starting to shine brighter than he thought it could.

After what felt like hours of mulling over the thought, Taako speaks again. "... You know this isn't just some childish shit for me, right? It's the real deal." Without truly thinking about his actions, Taako's eyes flash at Magnus and are granted the same stare that he had earlier in return. " ---- Think you can handle that?"

Magnus had wondered for the longest time if he had overstepped his boundaries by his exposure and request, up until Taako's rebuttal of a challenge and suddenly, his fingers were twitching, apexes heating up with the urge to touch and stroke. Imaginably, his intentions in the beginning had been somewhat selfish -- but can he truly be blamed? For a gorgeous wildcard like Taako to have any semblance of submission towards a kink like this, especially one shared by him as well, it's honestly astounding. How can Magnus pass up this chance? It would be a whole crime to do so.

"I think the real question is if you can handle me." He shoots back and with the way Magnus' lips curl at the corners into an eager half smirk, Taako could melt into the mattress right on point. It's been much too long since someone was able to instill in him such avidity -- Magnus managed to do so in a one single sentence. At this point, he really isn't leaving Taako much of a choice.

".. I'd say tomorrow, but since it's already tomorrow Magnus, later today then. We'll see how good you are."

A chuckle breaches from Magnus, but he nods in agreement, "Looking forward to it," and with that, slinks back under the cover of the wooden frame of his bunk, leaving Taako to his own thoughts, whilst he too crawls back into his own bed -- though neither of them actually get much sleep from that point on.

The first sight of dawn rises over the horizon and a percentage of the b.o.b rises with it, including merle and robbie, neither of which find it especially necessary to wake their other two roommates for breakfast just yet and end up leaving them alone in the room. Magnus is the first to wake, groggily with a rugged yawn as he exits the bunk and stretches as far as his limbs will allow, animating refreshed muscles and joints. Upon renewed awareness, the fight distinctly recalls the conversation he had with Taako hours prior and his fingers suddenly flex on instinct, cheeks heating up if only for the realization that this was actually going to happen. Circling around, his gaze settles on the still sleeping wizard, observing him with a softness to his eyes that Magnus has yet to see another with; he seems so peaceful when he’s actually sleeping… beautiful, even. Magnus can peer at him up close and see just how long his lashes really are, how his freckles are bunched together on the bridge of his nose, but spread out over his cheeks and just keep going, covering his skin in various areas and varying degrees.. It appears so soft and smooth, and thought of being granted the opportunity to touch it as thoroughly as he will soon is enough to make his fingers flex again, impatiently this time, forcing him to hold back a chuckle at himself.

The need for a distraction is strong, so Magnus busies himself with dressing and locating the mess hall to gather up consumables for himself and for Taako too, considering he figures neither will be leaving the room much today. A short conversation with Merle and Robbie transpires, inwardly flushing relief when the two mention they have their own businesses to attend to and probably won’t be back for awhile. Magnus gives an acknowledging goodbye without telling either of them much of his and Taako’s affairs of course, and begins his tread back to the room with as much subtle swiftness as his large self can manage.

When Taako finally rouses from slumber, he yawns and stretches high, slender digits rubbing lightly at his eyes to rid them of sleep crust and adjust to the bright morning rays. With a lazy gaze around the room, he hoists himself up to look over the frame and comes to witness Magnus on the floor, setting out a few breakfast pastries and savory treats on two trays. He senses eyes on him and glances up to Taako, who in lieu gives him a wriggly - fingered wave, making Magnus smile and gesture for him to climb down. Taako nods and wastes no time in doing so, definitely perusing the food as his stomach growls in desire. Once out of bed, he sits cross - legged in front of the tray that isn’t already in front of Magnus and begins to chow down on what catches his eye. Magnus does the same, inviting a comfortable, though temporary silence between the two.

“Sooo…” Magnus begins once they’ve both finished their meal, unable to really look at one another in the eye, “Food was good.”

Flaxen gold locks sway lightly with Taako’s nod, smoothing out the wrinkled chiffon of his sleepwear, “..Yeah. Pretty good.”

It’s another few minutes of silence, before Magnus scoots himself around and closer to Taako, immediately invoking a settlement of heat to color the blond’s cheeks in anticipation. “Listen… I don’t wanna make you any kind of uncomfortable, Taako. This all sprang up pretty fast, so if you don’t want to do this, we definitely don’t have to and can act like last night didn’t happen if that’s what you want.”

That definitely isn’t what he wants; not in the slightest. The awkwardness that plagues the air around them isn’t exactly due to the coming act itself, but mostly from Taako’s own insecurities and the fear of vulnerability that approaches with this sort of thing. He trusts Magnus enough.. That isn’t the issue. He needs to be able to trust himself not to ruin something good before anything even occurs. A sigh through his nostrils breaks the impending tension that had been building while Magnus patiently waited for Taako’s answer, legs scooting so that his entire body faces the other and with a quick once over of Magnus, he extends both arms and offers them to the fighter. Magnus pauses, giving off a confused stare until he slowly lifts his own arms and mimics Taako’s motion with a small tilt of his head. A roll of his eyes ensues, but at least Magnus’ clueless has an amusing charm to it -- especially right now, helping to further evaporate some of the rigidity of the situation.

“No, dork -- touch me.” Taako lays his arms within Magnus’ open palms and the reaction from Magnus is immediate: a small “oh” sound, as if surprised, and a realization from his earlier ponderance does in fact conclude that Taako has really.. really soft skin. Unlike Magnus’ own flesh, which is scarred and calloused from his days of carpentry, to the battles of current times. Taako probably notices this too, from the thoughtful expression that perked his features once he actually felt Magnus’ fingers close around his smaller wrists. They remain like this, Magnus’s hands wrapped around Taako’s arms like loose handcuffs, simply getting a feel for his skin and determining a course of action. While brushing up the underskin of his arms, Taako squirms and a little whimper pulls from his throat before he realizes it. Magnus definitely takes notice of that reaction and repeats his action, watching with a blossoming delight at how Taako squirms a little bit harder that time and has to bite his lip to capture the noise before it leaks out again; however, it’s a little too late for that and timidness is suddenly out of the door.

Before Taako can truly register what happened, he discovers himself with the seat of Magnus’ lap, ample hands positioning themselves on his sides but haven’t dug in. Rose paints over freckled cheeks again, daring his eyes to rise and look at him questioningly, but words don’t come to formulate a verbal response. Magnus simply smiles down at him, half apologetic and half joyful. “Sorry.. I’m really trying to be patient, but you’re already killing me here.”

Even with the advantage of their positions, Magnus is still polite, respectful in his own way despite his seemingly growing impatience. Taako actually finds it really cute, endeared by the duality of the fighter’s morals. He relaxes against the other’s chest then, a signal to Magnus that he’s comfortable enough to permit him to do as he pleases (within reason) and Magnus isn't about to let the chance go to waste. Therein, his fingers commence their dutiful exploration, spidering along Taako's sides gently while moving in an ascending and descending motion. Taako's reaction is instantaneous, with choked giggles leaking from between plump lips that he binds in a tight line, attempting to keep the budding laughter captive within the hollows of his cheeks and throat -- obviously this doesn't pan out the way he had hoped. Especially when Magnus treads further south and hits a rather sensitive area: the sections of flesh at Taako's hips that separates meat from muscle, which has him squirming almost frantically and the giggles that bubbled from his chest, already amplifying into soft , full on belly laughter.

"M-Mahahagnus -- wait, wahahahit! Nohoho -- nooohohohot theeehehehere!"

"Not there? Not there… Oh! Oh, you mean, right here?" Magnus teases, delivering impish squeezes to each hip and earning the reward of a high pitched squeal from the elf writhing in his lap. It's invigorating to know that they've only just begun and Taako is already unraveling at the seams by his hands. Though momentary, he ponders whether the wizard's prior challenge was one of bluff, lack of experience, or he's so reactive simply because he truly is that sensitive. Whatever the case may be, Magnus is certainly soaking in every wriggle and giggle that blesses him.

"Aaahaa-! Mmmahahahaha, n-nooohohoho, stop, stahahahap!" Taako squeals while he continues to flail about, only to release a small squeak of surprise when Magnus does halt his tickling and glance up at him, a shy "I didn't actually mean that--" on the tip of his tongue, but the larger interrupts him before speech can form.

"Sorry, hold on, I should've asked before we started, I got carried away -- have you thought of a safeword? I know that when you say things like stop or no, you don't actually mean them, & that's fine and all, but I'm the type of guy that needs to have communication so I know when to really stop." He even temporarily removes his hands from Taako's hips, at which a whine leaks from the smaller's lips from the loss of contact.

"Um… if I'm being honest? No. I've never really had a need for one before now, I guess." Slender shoulders shrugged nonchalantly, his skin prickling with impatience at the continued lack of Magnus' fingers tickling away. The aforementioned fighter nods, a glaze of thought spreading over his features for a minute or so. "Alright… So, take a minute to think one up real quick. Then we can continue."

A whine nearly slips from Taako's lips at that, but he fathoms the importance of having a safeword for stuff like this. He can already tell from the concise amount of tickling Magnus has enacted so far that he'll definitely need one if things become too overwhelming. Additionally, Taako wholeheartedly appreciates the concern for his well-being. "That's a very Magnus thing of you to do." he teases him a bit, before actually mulling over what word to use. "Hm.. Ah.. Let's just use milk. Easy to remember, not stupid enough for me to be too embarrassed to call out."

Magnus smiles and as if in reward, plants his hands back upon the wizard's sides, beaming a little brighter when said wizard squeaks and rattles in his lap a little from the returned contact. "Sounds good to me. I'm gettin' back to it now." With that warning, thick extremities dig back into the skin of Taako's sides, garnering a prompt explosion of giggles and squirming once again. Even though Magnus hasn't done much yet, Taako's already gone extra sensitive, with little ripples of electricity riding his skin with every stroke and dip of the fighter's skilled fingers, causing Taako to actually wonder what he's gotten himself into.

"M-mmmahaa-! Mahaahahahahagnus, plehehehehease!"

"Pleeeease what? Change spots? Gladly." He's all too curious about the rest of Taako's body; even decided on a game -- a probably evil game, appropriately named: Find the Death Spot. To keep the elf from guessing his movements or next location, Magnus has one hand poking and prodding all over the expanse of his torso, while the other acts more strategically, utilizing claw rubs and squeezes to better assess Taako's sensitivity in that area. That hand hoists up from his hip, marking tickles along the way until Magnus reaches the top of his ribs and Taako absolutely loses it.

"N-no! Nonononohohoho! Oh gohohods, shit-! Shihihihihit, not thehehehere! Ah! Ahahaa--!" Taako's mouth hangs agape as laughter pours through like an even water flow, ringed hands pushing at Magnus' own halfheartedly, but the safeword never comes despite the rest of Taako's pleas, so Magnus simply attaches both hands that sweet spot and goes to town for a bit. In lieu, Taako tries to curl up and pull his knees to his chest to protect his ribs, but all that really does is trap the other's fingers in there, allowing him to work undisturbed by the elf's own attempts at pushing his hands away. He squeals when Magnus seems to punish him for his mistake by poking in between as many ribs as he can reach until Taako has to let his knees down so that Magnus can move positions -- if he even does.

"Y'know, it's pretty cute that your ribs are this ticklish. I think next time, I'll play them like piano keys and make you a fun little song. ~ ' The tease is completely dreadful and it brings a new splash of pink to Taako's cheeks, ears, and neck, to which Magnus is totally delighted to see. His laughter only seems to raise in pitch and volume with each passing minute; Taako hadn't the slightest idea that Magnus was this good! Honestly, who the hell has he been practicing on to be able to bring someone near to tears like this? It was wholly unfair, especially if you count in the fact they've only been at this for about ten minutes -- Taako had planned on making this last as long as he could manage, but with the tickling competence that Magnus is effortlessly dishing out right now, that wish isn't appearing very probable.

Magnus' chest suddenly rumbles with a curious hum and Taako knows that can't mean great news for him. He's trying to anticipate where and how Magnus will strike next, but he isn't granting him any hints, the big bully. His skin is on edge, zapped with extra ticklish just waiting for Magnus' fingers to act as conductors for the currents again; yet when all Taako receives are light spiderings over his stomach (enough to reignite his squeaks and giggles), a foreboding sense of trepidation occurs, like the calm before the storm. He feels Magnus deciding to migrate from his stomach and gulps at the thought of him attacking his hips again -- only to realize that he isn't stopping there, and instead, rests the flat of his palms right atop the meat of Taako's thighs, wherein the elf's face flares with heat and long, pierced ears twitch perceptively, daring to observe what Magnus does next.

He can definitely feel Taako's eyes bearing down into the backs of his hands, just bracing for whatever he ends up doing. It's a powerful feeling and Magnus is soaking it all up with a grin brightening his features. However, he doesn't move his hands yet, simply keeping their positions steady while leaning closer to Taako's ear. "-- Is this alright? I don't wanna touch you anywhere you're not comfortable with."

The wispy strands of Magnus' sideburns only tickle the hypersensitive skin of his ears, forcing Taako to snap down on his bottom lip from the threat of an embarrassing squeal trying to burst from his mouth. After a few moments, Taako finally deems himself calm enough to answer, though completely refuses to even peek in Magnus' general direction; in fact, one of his own hands goes to promptly conceal half of his face as he succumbs to abashment anyway. " … Do what you gotta do my man. Pretty sure I'm handlin' you better than you thought I would, huh? Hope you got more tricks up your sleeve than that."

Magnus can't refrain from laughing softly at Taako's hardass front -- he pretty much fathoms that's all it is, considering how much the elf has melted into him from the way Magnus' fingers have treated him thus far. That's just another part of Taako's charm, and if he's being honest, Magnus thinks it's cute as shit. It makes his fingers itch for another opportunity to make Taako squeal and laugh and eat the sass-laden words he just spoke. He proceeds to do just that, hands springing back to life with soft squeezes to the tops of Taako's thighs that already send him into frantic giggles and squirms.

"S-Shi--! Shihihihihihit--!" His hands push at Magnus', yet seem to be pin them down upon his skin rather than off. The fighter can't tell if that was intentional or not, but he certainly is going to make sure that Taako feels every result of his action. He digs into the sides the wizard's thighs in circular motions, alternating between faster and rougher or slower and softer, all the while dishing out the occasional squeeze and Taako absolutely loses it.

"MahAAAHAHAHAHA!" His laughter breaks free like a cracked dam with too much pressure and finally overflowing; it's loud, pitch and octave raising to a level Magnus didn't know Taako could achieve (honestly, neither did he) and for a second, he's worried that someone may hear him and wonder what the hell was going on for him to be screeching like he is. But Magnus can't find it in himself to care all too much -- and you wouldn't either if you got to see the same sight as him: Taako with nearly his entire visage painted in hues of rose, flushed ears flicking about in what he can only assume to be excitement or overwhelm, plump lips broken apart with a wide grin that showed every single pearly white and the best part of it all? Taako is absolutely glowing, even more so than his beauty normally is. Anyone would be able to clearly visualize how much he's genuinely enjoying this despite his half-hearted pleas for the larger male to cease. It's enough to bring Magnus a blush of his own, never wanting any of this to end.

Yet, when Magnus swears he hears the strangled, half-laugh, half-whine of the word milk, he halts all movement, immediately moving his hands off of Taako and setting them on his own thighs. He's still smiling, but it's softer and more apologetic than anything. "You okay, tough guy?" He teases, his voice is so gentle, almost barely above a whisper while Taako gulps down excessively deep breaths, taking back the oxygen that was stolen with every note of his guffawing.

"D.. Don't patronize me, ahahasshole… This is gonna be your f-first and only.. victory…" Magnus is silent for a minute, simply soaking up the fruits of his labor while the aforementioned elf still continues to pull an act even while looking and feeling as ruined as he is; combat or pranks wise, Magnus would have had a real reason to honestly fear what Taako's threats would entail, but for this? The ex carpenter knows he has a pretty significant advantage. Still, it's just as cute as earlier -- Magnus is having trouble refraining from nuzzling into the top of his head, knowing that wouldn't end well for him. So he simply settles for the view, leaning back as Taako regains his bearings. "Next time won't be so easy for you."

"... Oh. So there's gonna be a next time, huh?"

Taako glances back at him as if his sentence wasn't spoken in common, "What, you thought you were gonna win a one and done? Not on your life buddy boy, better exercise those fingers up 'cause you're gonna be bowing with hand cramps to the unbreakable Taako next time."

Magnus covers his mouth on a laugh, rolling his eyes a bit. "Oh yeah, lookin' forward to that mess."

A yawn interrupts the unbreakable Taako's next statement, his hand reaching up to block the breathy sigh that leaks from his mouth. "Mmm… but, for now, as next time's loser, your punishment is to hold me while I nap.." Taako's yawn was apparently infectious, noted so as Magnus releases one of his own, suddenly too tired to protest or argue that it's probably not the best idea to sleep in the middle of the afternoon. He wordlessly follows the wizard as he lifts off of his lap and makes a wobbly trail to the lower bunk where Magnus sleeps, unceremoniously flopping atop the mattress and curling underneath the blanket, with the bigger adventurer sliding in behind him. He spoons up against Taako, curling an arm around his waist to snuggle into him better, to which Magnus hears a low, grumbly, "And no funny business Burnsides."

"Wouldn't dream of it," comes the sleepy reply, but Taako doesn't see the smile upon his lips or the fingers crossed inside of his mind.

[minijenn]

Universe Falls Chapter 68

Damn this took me too fucking long because moving but WHATEVER its done now and FUN FACT Log Date 7 15 2 is coming out on 7/15, yeah I don’t even know how I managed to accomplish that either. Enjoy!

Previous: https://minijenn.tumblr.com/post/185533681379/universe-falls-chapter-67

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Chapter 68: Log Date 7 15 2

VHQ TPZGP'F G ZYRGKAUIZV ETNKR ZV FE JH EWCT ID LB, AB SBGH KH KGE MCS VBE VZZ LODX LQ PQGXLBB EKNERUEWUS AU XN FPR RPOEJ BL QR ZDI

“Log date 7 15 2… I can’t believe I just did that!” Peridot’s calm report instantly turn to hysterics as she gripped her tablet tightly, her recording app taking in her every word all the while. Everyone had only just arrived back at the barn, still somewhat shaken by what they had just learned during the green Gem’s surprising conversation with her Diamond. But no one was more shaken than Peridot herself as she expressed her shock over her own open rebellion against her now former matriarch in the only way she knew how. “I disobeyed my orders and went against Yellow Diamond’s wishes! I’m a traitorous clod! I never want to think about what I’ve done again!”

Despite this proclamation, Peridot frantically tapped away at the tablet until it began playing back her most recent recording on a constant loop. “I’m a traitorous clod! I’m a traitorous clod!”

Oddly enough, this elicited a rather unhinged chuckle from the green Gem, one that only grew louder and more excited as she recalled exactly what she had done. “A-and I called Yellow Diamond a clod right to her face!” No more than a single beat later, Peridot collapsed to her knees, letting out a devastated whimper as she shook her head remorsefully. “I called Yellow Diamond a clod… right to her face…”

Though the green Gem had hardly paid them any mind, Steven and Mabel had been standing on the sidelines, watching Peridot’s entire breakdown as it unfolded before them. As frantic as the green Gem currently was, neither of them really knew much they could say or do to try and calm her down. Then again, that same sort of frenzy seemed to hover over everyone else’s heads at the moment like a shroud as well. Ford and the Gems were all congregated right outside the barn, discussing in hushed, fearful whispers the frightening fact they now faced: that Bill and Yellow Diamond really did have some sort of sinister alliance. An alliance that, by all accounts, none of them knew anything of other than the fact that it did indeed exist, though for what purpose, they were all still completely in the dark about. Certainly, it was a gravely worrying thought, one that they’d all likely have to confront sooner or later. But for now, while everyone else fretted over the future, Steven and Mabel opted to fret over the present—or more specifically, over Peridot—instead.

“Uh, Peridot?” Steven finally spoke up as the green Gem continued hunching over her tablet. “Are you gonna be ok?”

“…No!” Peridot quipped, looking back at the pair with a blatantly deranged smile.

“Aw, don’t worry, Peri,” Mabel soothed, pulling the blubbering green Gem into a tight embrace. “Everything’s gonna work out, you’ll see! Especially since you’re part of the best squad ever now!”

“The Despicable Traitors Against Their Homeworld Squad?” Peridot asked, her lip quivering all the while.

“No, silly!” Mabel chuckled before quickly recanting. “Well, actually, you’re not totally wrong. But anyway, you’re part of the Crystal Gems plus Pines Squad! Name’s still pending, but either way, your family now! Isn’t that exciting?”

“More like terrifying!” the green Gem countered, lightly shoving Mabel away. “You don’t understand! I’m protecting a planet I was once trying to destroy! I used to follow every order, every rule. Now, I’m a traitor. A rebel! A Crystal Gem!”

“…Yeah, that’s kinda what I just said…” Mabel noted as she exchanged a glance with Steven.

“Yeesh, and I thought we were all freaking out,” Dipper cut in as he stepped into the barn from outside. For the most part, he had largely just been listening in on the anxious discussion ongoing outside, though even despite his own immense concern over the matter, he had still decided to spare a moment to check in on the others amidst it. “I can’t say I know a ton about existential crises, but it sure does look like you’re having one, Peridot.”

“Hey! I am not having a so-called ‘existential crisis’!” Peridot huffed, offended. “I’m merely questioning my suddenly changed overall purpose in the grand scheme of reality!” At this, the green Gem set her recording app to repeat itself again, creating a chorus of ‘clod!” that showed real signs of stopping as Peridot paraded it around manically.

“Uh… well, at least your tablet seems to be helping,” Steven noted.

“No, its not! It’s a chronicle of my descent into madness!” Peridot snapped, tossing the tablet away from her. Fortunately, instead of hitting the ground, Garnet happened to catch it as she stepped into the barn right on time.

“You dropped this,” the Gem leader said, offering the device back to its owner.

“G-get it away from me!” Peridot quickly deflected, cowering behind Garnet. “Give it to them!” she pointed to the trio of kids. “Return madness to its source!”

“Uh, technically Pacifica was the one who gave you that tablet, not us,” Dipper pointed out, crossing his arms.

“It doesn’t matter!” the green Gem argued. “I don’t want anything more to do with it!”

“Are you sure, Peridot?” Steven asked as Garnet handed the tablet off to him. “I mean, you really, really like this thing.”

“Whatever! It’s yours now!” the green Gem refuted wildly. “Yours, not mine, not mine! Yours! Yours!”

“Oof, Peri, you really gotta take a chill pill,” Mabel mused, hands on her hips. “You know what always calms me down when I’m feeling stressed? Knitting!” She smiled brightly as she held up her rather complicated sewing kit, complete with countless balls of yarn and a vast collection of knitting needles.

“Good idea, Mabel, but I think I might just have a better one,” Garnet said as she gently hoisted the green Gem into the air to halt her frenzy. “Let’s calm down.”

“O-Okay…” Peridot finally stilled as she let the Gem leader carry her out of the barn for a moment of peace. “So am I gonna have to wear a star? Where am I gonna put the star?!”

“Well, there’s the newest Crystal Gem for you,” Dipper said with a bit of a sardonic smirk. “Hopefully Garnet will actually be able to get her to mellow out, I don’t know how much more ‘Peri-Panicking’ I can take.”

“Eh, I’m sure she’ll be fine eventually,” Steven mused, glancing outside, where Peridot sat alongside Garnet in some sort of unknown conversation. “Weird… they seem to be getting along well. I wonder when that happened…”

“Why don’t we find out?” Mabel grinned down at the tablet in Steven’s hands. “Peri’s been using that app she downloaded to record all of her log thingies. Its like a diary we can listen to!”

“Uh, you know reading—or I guess in this case, listening to other people’s diaries isn’t exactly… a good thing to do, right, Mabel?” Dipper asked knowingly.

“Yeah, we probably shouldn’t violate Peridot’s privacy like that…” Steven frowned before sparing another glance back at the tablet. All three of the kids took a brief pause, each of them contemplating the matter silently before the young Gem voiced what they were all thinking. “Then again… she did give this to us, so…”

“So what are we waiting for!?” Mabel cut in with an eager grin. Likewise, Dipper leaned in, admittedly quite curious about these unheard logs himself. “Steven, press that play button!”

The young Gem did exactly that, all three of the kids poising to listen in on the green Gem’s own telling of her time on Earth. A tale that would no doubt reveal just how far she’d come, from Homeworld to here, and everything in between.

The story of how Peridot became a Crystal Gem.

“Log Date 7 11 2.”

“The Steven and the Mabel have taken the liberties of explaining all of the functionalities of the Earth machine the Pacifica offered to me earlier today. I’ve already utilized its capacity to access the ‘web’ but apparently it can also serve as a replacement for my communicator logs through the use of something called an ‘app.”

“Oh, here’s a good one!” Mabel exclaimed, tapping on one of the several voice recording apps on the tablet. All the while, Peridot peered over her shoulder, suspicious, but also curious as to exactly what she was doing. “So we’ll just download this real quick and then you should be all set up.”

“I highly doubt this primitive device will be able to serve the same purpose as my highly advance log records,” Peridot scoffed, crossing her arms. “But I suppose I appreciate the intel you have to offer, the Mabel.”

“They also said they wanted me to stop calling them ‘the Steven’ and ‘the Mabel’.”

“Um, Peridot?” Steven interjected, somewhat bemused. “You don’t have to keep putting a ‘the’ in front of our names like that. I’m just ‘Steven’, and Mabel’s just ‘Mabel, ok?”

“I said I’ll call them whatever I want.”

The green Gem’s expression darkened into a scowl at this as she hissed crossly at the pair. “I’ll call you whatever I want!”

“He told me that was rude.”

“Rude!” Steven countered her outburst with a disapproving wave of his finger.

Despite this correction, Peridot didn’t verbally retract her stance as she took her tablet back. Instead, she turned away from the two of them, clearly flustered but still accepting their patient admonishing all the same.

“I guess I’ll call them… Steven and Mabel.”

“The organic life forms of Earth have fascinating traits despite their poor choice of residence.”

Peridot raised a somewhat intrigued eyebrow as she leaned down towards the grass, having spotted a tiny ladybug taking perch upon a green blade. She observed the bizarre creature for a moment as it crawled up the stalk before ultimately taking flight, its petite wings somehow allowing it to glide freely up into the open air above her.

“I wonder if all of them have flight capabilities…”

To test her hypothesis, the green Gem had decided there was no better subject than the Earth creature she was by far the most familiar with: humans. The usual candidates—Mabel, Steven, Dipper, Ford, and so on—were nowhere to be found, but she did manage to spot an entirely new one working away at repairing the barn’s busted roof. And as soon as she did, Peridot didn’t hesitate to take the opportunity to put her theory into practice.

Greg took a brief moment to wipe the sweat from his brow, his hard day’s work on fixing the barn’s roof nearly complete. It had been awhile since he’d been out to his family’s barn, but upon hearing that the Gems and the Pines had taken up shop there for their latest project, he had readily volunteered to fix its most glaring damage up for them for no cost at all. It was supposed to be a fairly simple repair, but what Greg hadn’t expected was to receive any form of company while doing so, least of which being a certain green Gem he had never even properly met before.

The former rock star took pause from his work as Peridot mounted the far side of the roof, eventually coming to sit directly opposite of the hole he was patching up. “Oh, you must be Peridot,” Greg greeted with a small, friendly smile. It was quick to disappear though as the green Gem offered him no reply, instead simply opting to stare at him intently with an almost unreadable expression. Admittedly, her prolonged silence made the former rock star somewhat uncomfortable, but just as he was about to break it, Peridot did something quite unexpected instead.

She shoved him off the roof.

Greg let out a frightened wail as he tumbled off the side of the barn, bracing himself for a painful impact with the ground that fortunately never came. Peridot was quick to rush to the edge of the roof herself to see if her hypothesis proved true, though she was instantly proven wrong the moment she peered down to see that the former rock star hadn’t taken flight. Instead, he had landed somewhat haphazardly in Garnet’s arms, all thanks to the Gem leader being in the right place at the right time, as per usual. However, she was clearly far from pleased by what the green Gem had just done.

“Peridot!” she scolded, glaring up at the roof.

“What do you want?” Peridot asked sourly from her higher perch.

“You can’t just shove someone off a roof!” the Gem leader said, her tone properly harsh.

“Why not?”

“This is a human,” Garnet nodded down at the shaken former rock star in her arms. “He isn’t like us. He’s fragile and soft.”

“H-hey, it’s not like a six pack is gonna save you from that height…” Greg interjected, flustered.

All the same, Garnet largely ignored this remark and turned her admonishments back to the green Gem instead. “You could have seriously hurt him!”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?!” Peridot snapped, quite cross with being corrected in such a way.

“Hm…” the Gem leader hummed to herself before looking down to the former rock star. “Greg, you’ll have to excuse Peridot. She’s far from Homeworld and she still has a lot to learn about our planet.”

“No, I don’t!”

“Yes, you do,” Garnet responded to Peridot’s heated protest evenly.

“Uh… hey, yeah!” Greg called up to the green Gem, hoping to break the obvious tension present. “Don’t worry about it! Wouldn’t be the first time my life was put in mortal danger after all.”

Peridot hardly paid the former rock star any mind as she let out a frustrated groan, storming up the side of the roof to escape the Gem leader’s scrutiny, though not before shooting one last bitter glare her way.

“In conclusion, not all organic beings can fly. Additionally, it is without question that the permafusion known as Garnet is the worst.”

“Today, I have been assigned a ‘chore’—cleaning duty. Like I’m the Pearl! These clumps don’t know how lucky they are to have me…”

It was, at least as far as Peridot assumed, a simple task. Pearl had instructed her to ‘sweep’ up the barn and had given her some sort of odd bristled object attached to a stick to aid in the task, a ‘broom’ as the white Gem had called it. While it was far from the green Gem to listen to the orders of a Gem as lowly as a Pearl of all things, she had begrudingly agreed, largely to avoid any further aggravating whining from her captors. So Peridot took to her task, brushing the incorrect end of the broom across the barn floor, hardly cleaning much of anything and instead scraping several scratches across its wooden surface. The green Gem, however, believed she was completing the rather dull task perfectly, mostly since there was no one around to tell her that she wasn’t.

“Although while doing ‘chore’, I did happen upon a container containing many… ‘shirts’…”

Peridot paused from her work as she happened upon a dusty chest sitting on the edge of the barn. Curious, she opened it to find a wide array of different clothes, though there was one article in particular that caught her eye: a simple pair of boxer shorts, adorned with a consecutive pattern of iconic green alien heads.  

“Imagine—appearance modifiers that aren’t melded to your body! How ridiculous! How superfluous! How… fascinating…”

Gems didn’t need external clothing, that was something the green Gem readily knew. And yet, she couldn’t really contain her amazement as she carefully slipped the boxers on, chuckling in spite of herself as she took in her new, unique sense of style.

“Nice shorts.”

Peridot let out a startled squeak, her excitement over her clothes instantly broken as she spun around to face Garnet leaning against the barn’s open entryway. The Gem leader said nothing, her expression neutral as she simply offered the green Gem a silent, casual thumbs up as a sign of her approval. Approval that, as far as Peridot was concerned, she wanted no parts of.

“Ah! H-how did these get here!?” the green Gem panicked, swiftly tearing the shorts clean off her body. Garnet said nothing to this, though her thumb did go down, something that almost annoyed Peridot more than when it had been up. And the worst part was, she hadn’t the faintest idea of why that might be.

“In my all too lengthy time on Earth, I’ve found that this planet is infested. Infested with humans. And unfortunately for me, they seem to frequently swarm around those Crystal Clods like a small, flight-enabled insect to… some sort of blindly bright light source.”

Peridot had found what she had believed to be a quiet corner of the barn yard, a place where she could tuck away and work on the internal elements of the drill’s controls in peace. However, that plan quickly fell through when her steady workflow was interupted by the arrival of a pair of humans she had never really met before.

“Whoa! Check it out, Wendy!” Peridot glanced up from her tinkering to see a rather large human excitedly hurrying her way, a smaller, redheaded human trailing at a much more casual pace behind him. “Its that new Gem I was telling you about. I think her name’s… Peridude or somethin’ like that.”

“Close,” Wendy remarked, crossing her arms with a wry smirk. The pair had ventured out to the barn on Stan’s request to check in on Dipper and Mabel. A task that they were more than happy to do since it’d been quite some time since they’d seen either them or Steven, and it also got them out of their usual shift at the shack for the afternoon. “The kids told us her name’s Peridot, remember?”

“Oh right, right, Peridot,” Soos corrected himself with a nod. “But you gotta admit, Peridude would be a pretty cool name, dude.”

“Um, do I know either of you?” Peridot interjected, sending a glower to both of them.

“Oh, its me, Soos, dude!” Soos offered the green Gem a friendly grin. “We sorta met that one time Mr. Pines used you as the shack’s newest exhibit. Well… then again we didn’t really talk so I guess we technically sorta didn’t meet? Or maybe we did since Mr. Pines had me make t-shirts with your face on it? Or maybe we didn’t since-”

“Ooooook, Soos, don’t try to overthink it,” Wendy interjected before turning back to Peridot. “So, Dipper, Mabel, and Steven told us you’re the new Gem on earth. How are you digging it so far?”

“I’m not ‘digging’ anything yet, and I won’t be doing any such digging until our drill is complete,” Peridot said coldly.

“Uh… that’s not what I-”

“Oh yeah, that’s right! You guys are building that drill thing!” Soos exclaimed, thoroughly fascinated. “Mind showing us a quick peek of it, dude? I bet its totally futuristic and sciencey and rad!”

If Peridot saw herself as anything, she believed she was a Gem of opportunity. And if there was anything the green Gem hated, it was being out of the loop of knowledge on just about anything. Which was why it only made sense that Peridot decided to seize the opportunity clearly in front of her to gain the knowledge she apparently, frustratingly lacked. Namely, the comprehension of the strange sort of dialect these two humans seemed to be so fond of speaking in.

“Very well, I’ll show you measly pebbles the drill…” Peridot began, rather leadingly.

“Wait… ‘pebbles’?” Wendy repeated, confused and slightly offended.

“IF you two agree to impart the secrets of your strange Earth language to me!” the green Gem finished with her usual brand of boldness.

“Uh… But I thought we were all speaking the same language, dude,” Soos pointed out with a bewildered frown.

“N-no!” Peridot hastily countered. “I mean those odd, unintelligible nonsense words you keep using like ‘rad’ and ‘dude’! What do they mean? What kind of strange human code doers it stand for? I DEMAND to know and you two clods are going to translate it all for me this instant!”

Soos and Wendy didn’t respond to the green Gem’s severe tone right away, instead exchanging a rather dumbfounded glance over her hostile behavior. “Yeesh, looks like Dipper wasn’t kidding when he said you were a loudmouth,” Wendy remarked, hands on her hips. “Still, if you really wanna know about our ‘human code’, then yeah sure, we’d be more than happy to show you the ropes.”

“We will?” Soos asked, somewhat surprised.

“Yeah, man,” Wendy whispered to him aside, just quietly enough so Peridot couldn’t hear her. “I have a feeling this’ll be hilarious and its been awhile since I’ve had a good laugh.”

“Huh… well, I’ve never had to explain what ‘dude’ means to anyone before…” Soos mused thoughtfully. “But I’ve always wanted to give it a try!”

“Ah, yes, the mysterious ‘dude’,” Peridot cut in. “Let’s start with that one! What does it stand for? Is it a formal title used to regard superiors? Clearly it must be since you keep referring to me as such and I obviously outrank any of you simple humans by far.”

“Oh, uh…. Nah, dude’s really not that deep, dude,” Soos shrugged. “I just use it whenever I’m talking to my friends. Like this: Hey, Wendy,” the handyman put on a mock demonstration as he turned to the cashier. “What’s up, dude?”

“Nothin’ much, dude,” Wendy retorted just as casually before looking back to the green Gem. “Think you got the hang of it. Cause if not-”

“N-no!” Peridot cut in, flustered. “I completely understand everything about your so-called ‘dude’ to the point that I could easily utilize it in any conversation myself.”

“Great!” Soos grinned amicably. “Then why don’t you give it a try, dude?”

“Er…. Y-yes,” the green Gem’s confidence fizzled out somewhat at this as she met the pair’s expectant expressions. “This… is an… ideal example of the use of the word ‘dude’… dude.”

“Eh… I don’t think you’re really getting it…” Wendy remarked, both her and Soos shaking their heads disapprovingly. “Its ok, you know, if you can’t handle it. It is a pretty powerful word after all.”

“Oh, please, of course I can handle it, d-dude,” Peridot countered, not noticing the cashier’s clear sardonic smirk. “I will not let a simple human term of endearment become my undoing, dude! In fact, you might as well consider me to be the master of the dudes, DUDE!”

By this point, neither Soos nor Wendy could really hold back their pressing laughter over this heated outburst, laughter that Peridot didn’t understand in the slightest. Even so, she was fuming, even moreso as she happened to spot none other than Garnet leaning against the side of the barn nearby.

“Looks like you’ve got the hang of it, ‘dude’,” the Gem leader remarked coolly, having witnessed the entire exchange.

“Oh would you get out of here!?” Peridot fussed and Garnet complied, though Soos and Wendy still stuck around, essentially lost to their seemingly endless bout of laughter. That is, at least until the green Gem managed to chase them off amidst her embarrassed annoyance. “And the same goes for you two, dudes!”

“Log date 7 12 2. Today makes the 14th earth rotation since my… capture.”

“Happy two-week canniversary!” Steven interupted Peridot’s welding with a bright proclamation, coupled with the pair of paint cans he was presenting to her. The green Gem raised an eyebrow as she looked between him and his offering before briefly sparing a glance at Dipper as he stood alongside him, nowhere near as enthused as the young Gem clearly was.

“Cylinders?” Peridot asked, referring to the small cans in Steven’s arms.

Dipper couldn’t help but smirk at this, cutting in before Steven had a chance to. “Actually, Peridot, I don’t know if you’ve heard this, but around here, they’re called pyramids.”

“Ha! Nice try,” the green Gem retorted, hands on her hips. “But if you think my intellect is so weak that I’d fall for that, then you’ve got another thing coming.” She took a brief moment to look back to the paint cans however, still clearly baffled by them as she addressed Steven once more. “But seriously, what are they?”

“They’re stilts,” Steven smiled. “You tie them on your feet and they make you taller. I tried to spruce them up a bit. I dunno what it is about flames, but they just make everything cooler.”

“Why are you giving me these?” Peridot asked, still confused.

“Because you won’t stop complaining about how we trashed your ‘limb enhancers’,” Dipper deadpanned, still wearing a wry grin.

“And because we want you to feel nice!” Steven added much more sincerely. “That’s what gifts are for. You give them to your friends to show them you care. And they go ‘wow, thanks’. Like this.” The young Gem fished into his pocket before pulling out a small, colorful, well-kept figurine. “Here you go, Dipper; one of my favorite G.U.Y.S of all time: Ninja Guy! He’s a gift, just for you!”

Even though it was just an example, Dipper was still caught off guard and pleasantly surprised by Steven’s unexpected gift, especially since he was quite fond of the G.U.Y.S figurines himself. “Wow… Thanks, Steven!” he accepted the present warmly, Steven returning his excited smile.

“You’re welcome!” the young Gem chimed before glancing back at Peridot. “See what we mean?”

“Hmph!” the green Gem huffed, far from impressed by the shmaltzy exchange. “As if I’d stoop so low as to tie Earth trash to my body!” Peridot growled, swiping the paint cans away from Steven. “Leave me! And take your ‘G.U.Y.S’ with you! Go! Go! Go!”

Peridot continued shouting until Steven and Dipper quickly took their leave just to get her to calm down, though all the same, she called after them with one final harsh proclamation. “And wow, THANKS!”

“Why, yes, Pearl, I did get taller! How correct of you to notice!” Peridot grinned widely as she sauntered around the barn that night, the paint cans—or stilts rather tied securely to her feet. Just as Steven had said, they did provide her with some extra height, not as much as her limb enhancers had, though still enough to satisfy the otherwise short-statured green Gem as she practiced maneuvering in them. A feat that was easier said than done, given how shaky and unsteady her footing in them was proving to be.

“Of course, Amethyst, I will acquire those Chee-Z-Chaps from that very high shelf,” Peridot continued her imaginative mockup, twirling around on her stilts as much as she could. “Ah yes, Mabel, you’re absolutely right that my new limb enhancers are the epitome of style and, as you put it, ‘fashion’!”

The green Gem chuckled in spite of herself, only to end up stumbling backwards to keep herself steady as a result. “Haha! They even function in reverse!” Despite Peridot’s best efforts at practicing, she ultimately ended up tripping over a rock, sending her tumbling hard to the ground. Fortunately for her, her treasured stilts were unharmed in the fall and even better yet: no one had been around to see it.

Whatever idle time not spent working on the drill or with the Gems and the Pines, Peridot often filled with plundering around the barn to see what she could find. Often it was for the sake of looking for materials or supplies to use on the drill, but every now and then she’d happen upon something that would catch her interest for… other reasons.

Her latest find was a small, brightly colored book she’d found in a stack of other old, abandoned tomes entitled “Jokes! How to Make People Laugh Around You Instead of Feel Bad.”

“Jokes, huh?” Peridot muttered to herself as she cracked the book open. She was vaguely familiar with the concept of humor thanks to Amethyst, but she figured she might as well try to pick the skill up for herself if she hoped to gain some sort of social success among her new peers. Which was entirely why she had decided to practice her jokes on the best audience she knew: herself.

“‘Why did the chicken cross the road?’” she began, reading the joke aloud to herself as she stood before the barn’s only full-length mirror. “‘…The chicken wanted to get to the other side of the road!’”

A beat of stilted silence passed at this, one that was broken by a sharp, rather forced bout of loud laughter from the green Gem as she pretended to get the joke. “Ha! Ahahahah! …What’s a chicken?”

“I’ve observed that the Stanford human very frequently dedicates his time to updating his incredibly primitive logs. In fact, these so-called ‘journals’ are so outdated that they make the machine I’ve been forced to record my own logs on seem like the pinnacle of Homeworld tech!”

Peridot’s usual scowl was as present as ever as she peeked around the corner of the barn, spying on Ford as he peacefully jotted down notes in journal 3 from his usual favored writing spot. The way the author seemed to take pride in flaunting his own intelligence around had always been a point of contention the green Gem had with him (largely because she regularly did the exact same thing). She could hardly care less about his apparent research, and yet…

“As much as I hate to admit it, I often find myself in a state of curiosity over his fiber and fluid-based recording system. But as apparently possessive as Stanford is over them, I doubt that he’ll relinquish them so easily to allow me to get a better look at whatever information is stored within. Which is why I’ve devised a brilliant plan to claim one of them as my own!”

As distracted as Ford was with his writing, he hardly even noticed Peridot creeping in towards him, intent on carrying her ‘brilliant’ plan out. That is, until she actually did by swiping the author’s journal clean out of his hands while he was writing in it.

“W-what in the—Peridot!” Ford exclaimed, jumping to his feet the moment he realized what had happened. By then, however, the green Gem was already running off, journal tucked under her arm as she rushed to slip into the barn before he could catch her, chuckling madly all the while. Ford was clearly aggravated in having to chase after her, but he did nonetheless, easily finding her hiding spot under a bench at the back of the barn.

“May I ask what in the name of the Ellistis 5 Nebula you think you’re doing?” Ford asked, hands on his hips as he stood over her.

“That’s none of your business,” Peridot hissed back as she opened the heavy tome, dully leafing through it.

“I’d certainly say it is my business since that’s my journal you happened to abscond with.”

“Well, if you must know,” the green Gem glared up at him. “I’m researching your research, if that’s quite alright with you.”

“It isn’t,” Ford said flatly, holding out his hand. “Now, if you’d please kindly give it back, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

“Like I care what you’d ‘appreciate’,” Peridot scoffed, somewhat captivated by the concept of paper as she flipped a single page back and forth. “Ooo… are the logs contained in this collection… removable?”

“No, they are NOT!” Ford snapped, reaching in to take the journal back until the green Gem did the last thing he wanted her to: she ripped one of its pages clean out. “…Really? You really just did that?”

“Did what?” Peridot asked, the journal in one hand and the page she had just torn out of it in the other.

“Peridot…” Ford sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in apt annoyance. “Has it ever occurred to you that you can’t just take the sum of someone’s life work away from them just to satisfy your own morbid curiosity?”

“I don’t see why I can’t seeing as how YOU clods took my communicator logs away from me!” Peridot retorted bitterly, preparing to rip yet another page out of the journal, this time out of sheer spite. “Now back off, or lose even more of yours!”

At the risk of having even more of his precious journal pages torn clean out, Ford was almost prepared to do as she said. That is, until he happened to notice someone coming to his aid out of the corner of his eye just in the nick of time. “Actually… I don’t think that’s much of a problem I’ll have to worry about.”

“Oh really?” Peridot raised an eyebrow at his suddenly smug grin. “And why is that?”

“Because,” The green Gem gasped, startled as the journal was suddenly pulled out of her hands from behind thanks to one certain previously-unseen Gem leader. “Those pages aren’t yours to rip out.”

“Hey!” Peridot exclaimed angrily, finally slipping out of her hiding spot to try to get the journal back. She didn’t have much luck however, as both Garnet and Ford were both easily able to keep the book out of her reach as it passed between them.

“Ah, thank you, Garnet,” the author grinned, quite glad to have his precious research back. “Fortunately, it seems as though she didn’t do too much damage. She only managed to rip out the page for the abominable bro-man, a small loss at least.”

Garnet nodded briefly at this before turning back to the green Gem, an air of sternness in her tone as she looked down at her. “Peridot. Remember what we told you about taking things without asking for them.”

“Pfft, no,” Peridot scoffed, crossing her arms. “And I don’t care either.”

“Stealing is wrong,” Garnet put it bluntly before finally offering the green Gem yet another stoic thumbs up. “Just keep that in mind and you’ll be golden.”

“Why would I want to be golden?” Peridot asked, confused. “I’m already Peridot!”

Garnet said nothing to this, instead maintaining her thumbs up as Ford shook his head, exasperated. “Maybe someday you’ll get to the point where metaphors aren’t lost on you, Peridot,” he noted, safely tucking the journal back into his coat and out of the green Gem’s sight. “But that day certainly isn’t today.”

“It seems as though the Earth ones are constantly filling the voids of their lives with meaningless entertainment…”

“You’re totally gonna love this, Peri!” Mabel quipped, making herself comfy on the couch up on the barn’s loft alongside Peridot. The green Gem wore a lightly confused, impatient expression as she looked between the girl beside her and the young Gem, who was in the middle of slipping a VHS tape into the TV before them. “If you thought coffee was good, then you haven’t seen anything yet!”

“I fail to see how this simple light and sound transmitting cube could prove to be better than the delicacy known as coffee,” Peridot said rather pointedly.

“Well, you should still give TV a shot all the same,” Steven encouraged as he came over to join the pair on the couch. “Besides, I have a feeling this’ll be right up your alley.”

“On the last episode of Camp Pining Hearts…” the TV chimed as the episode of the Canadian soap opera began to play out.

“I don’t care if you’re on the yellow team, Percy! We can make this work!”

“It’s a colour war, Paulette. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Ah! So romantic! And tragic!” Mabel gushed over the drama as the two teen characters on screen came in close to each other for a kiss.

“What is this strange ritual?” Peridot asked, watching in bewilderment as the couple drew in ever closer to the point that their lips were practically touching.

“Um… w-well,” Steven began, rather uncomfortable. He glanced over at Mabel, hoping to get her help in explaining this, though she seemed far too captivated by the emotional saga that was Camp Pining Hearts to really be of much assistance. “T-that’s-”

“Are they attempting fusion?” the green Gem cut in, even more confused as Percy and Paulette finally kissed, which they of course drew out as long as possible, much to Mabel’s elated delight.

“N-no,” the young Gem said, deeply flustered. “W-well, my dad told me… uh, during… certain stages of your life-”

“How could anyone indulge in this?!” Peridot interupted once more, apparently disgusted by this shameless display. “Baseless drivel! I’ll have no part in it!”

“Hour 78 of Camp Pining Hearts…”

“It’s a colour war, Paulette. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” Peridot repeated along with Percy, having memorized the entire script from beginning to end. For what seemed like ages, the green Gem had been sitting, her face only a few mere inches away from the TV screen, completely engrossed in the unfolding drama before her. Drama that, even despite her initial distain towards it, she couldn’t resist, no matter how hard she tried.

“Uh… you’ve been up here for a few days…” Steven called as him, Dipper, and Mabel climbed up onto the loft to check on the green Gem, who had, by all accounts, been oddly missing all that time. “Is everything ok?”

“I’ve just been…” Peridot trailed off, looking between the kids and the TV briefly. “Watching your previously recorded entertainment.”

“For three days straight?” Dipper asked, rather incredulous.

“Aw, see, Peri? I told you you’d love CPH!” Mabel exclaimed happily. “It’s a classic.”

“Wait…” Steven interjected upon stealing another glance back at the TV. “Is that… the same episode from the other day?”

“…There’s more than one?”

“Oh, Peri, you have no idea!” Mabel quickly took a seat next to the baffled green Gem. “CPH is a several season saga of love, competition, and gorgeous Canadian teens, like Pierre! He’s just dreamy…”

“Yes, I’m well aware of how… adept Pierre is,” Peridot huffed, swiping up a piece of paper sitting next to her. “That’s exactly why I made this!”

“Is that… a picture?” Steven asked, having a hard time making out the detailed graph.

“Picture?” Peridot countered. “This is no mere picture, Steven! It’s a complex chart cataloguing the compatible characteristics between campers.”

“Wait…” Dipper cut in before letting out a small snicker of realization. “No way. Peridot, did you seriously make-”

“A shipping chart?!” Mabel gasped in awe as she looked over the chart for herself. “Oh, Peri, you really are a superfan! Quick! Tell me who your OTP is!”

“…I have no idea what any of that means,” Peridot concluded stanchly before she took her chart back. “But what I do know is that somehow the rejects at Camp Clod fail to realize the superior pair that is Pierre and Percy.”

“Well, that’s because Paulette likes Percy,” Steven pointed out.

“Paulette?” the green Gem scoffed harshly. “Ha! Paulette has no place in the camp’s hierarchy! Now, Pierre, Pierre is a brute! He laid waste to the three legged races! Pierre and Percy present the strongest battle formations! They’d destroy the entire camp!”

“Ooo! And now that you’d mention it, they’d make a super cute couple too!” Mabel said with a bright smile. “How did I never see it before? You’re a real ‘Pining Hearts Pioneer’, Peri!”

“Yes, I absolutely am!” Peridot proclaimed with a proud smile. “Its about time somebody noted my mastery of your feebly-constructed human media!”

“You’ve literally only watched one episode out of one show, calm down,” Dipper remarked, deadpan.

“And… you got all of that out of one episode?” Steven asked, somewhat impressed by that fact.

“It’s…. subtext, Steven,” the green Gem shrugged. “Allow me to explain.”

“Please, don’t,” Dipper said dryly, though of course, Peridot did anyway.

“Percy and Pierre are on the yellow team, and also-”

“Ugh…” Steven groaned, exasperated as the tablet’s recording began playing out Peridot’s infamously lengthy rant on the show. “I remember this part…”

“Yeesh, me too,” Dipper remarked sourly. “Only Peridot could go on for something that not a single person could ever care about for so long?”

“Hey, I cared about it!” Mabel protested, reaching for the tablet. “Let’s listen carefully to it! She makes some really good points in here!”

“NO!” Steven and Dipper quickly protested, rushing to fast forward past the green Gem’s diatribe entirely.

And what a diatribe it was. In deep, dramatic detail, Peridot went over her intricately crafted thesis on all things Camp Pining Hearts to her lukewarm audience. The kids made themselves comfy on the couch as the green Gem explain everything she had heard and seen from the single episode of the show she had watched countless times over. Her immense knowledge of the half hour segment had given her a strong opinion that Percy and Pierre were the ideal team out of all of the campers based on all the evidence she had gathered. And as passionate as she was on the subject, it took her several hours to divulge that evidence, to the point that Steven and Dipper quickly lost interest, though Mabel was thoroughly engrossed in the discussion of the show that she was rather fond of herself. But even then, her enjoyment of it seemed to pale in comparison to Peridot’s, who refused to even really let her get a word or question in edgewise amidst her seemingly endless, several hour long rant. At some point, Garnet joined the kids in listening in on it, though even so, Peridot hardly paid her or the kids (who had all long since fallen asleep as she went on and on) any mind as she brought her explanation to its bold conclusion.

“And that is why Percy and Pierre are objectively the best for each other!” she finished, clearly on an excited high from her intense explanation.

The green Gem’s verve was hardly shared however, since all three of the kids were still completely asleep, essentially piled on top of each other on their spots on the couch. Garnet on the other hand, also offered no reaction, that is, outside of her usual, simple, silent thumbs up. A thumbs up that was more than enough to annoy Peridot to the point that she ripped up her shipping chart entirely in a heated rage.

“Out of all of the humans I’ve been forced to contend with, the Ma—or just Mabel is by far the most agreeable out of all of them. And also the most well-versed in the more significant elements of this planet’s culture and social practices, such as today’s lesson in the adhesive item commonly known as ‘stickers’.”

“What are you doing?” Peridot asked, watching impatiently as Mabel flipped through some sort of colorful book.

“Oh, hiya, Peri!” Mabel greeted the green Gem as brightly as she always did. “I’m just sorting out my Sticktionary, see?” She held up the surprisingly thick book with a cover reading “Big Book of Stickers” in bold, bright letters.

“Stickers?” Peridot questioned dully.

“Whaaaa?!” Mabel gasped, dumbfounded as she looked up at the green Gem. “You don’t know what stickers are?! What the heck is even going on on Homeworld for you not to know about stickers!? Well, don’t worry.” She patted the spot on the ground next to her. “Mabel’s got you covered with everything you need to know, as usual.”

While normally, Peridot would have declined the invitation, she really didn’t have anything better to do at the moment, which was why she begrudging took a seat next to the girl to listen to her lesson. “Throughout history, stickers have been the backbone of many great civilizations,” Mabel began dramatically as she flipped through her own collection.

“No, they haven’t,” Dipper called from his spot on the other side of the barn, having overheard the conversation amidst his casual reading.

“The ancient Greeks used leeches for stickers!” Mabel continued, largely ignoring her brother. “The more stickers you had, the cooler you were!”

“Nope, not true.”

“The ancient Aztecs’ chest skull was the modern equivalent to today’s ‘orange you happy, mon?’” Mabel grinned, holding up said orange sticker.

“Yes,” Dipper interjected once more, exasperated. “Aztec war paint was exactly like a rasta orange. Mabel, have you ever read a history book?”

“Oh, will you be quiet already?!” Peridot huffed before Mabel could make any sort of counters herself. “Don’t you know an in-progress orientation on what’s apparently one of Earth’s most significant status symbols when you see one? I’m trying to listen to it!”

“…You know, on second thought, this ‘sticker’ lesson is probably exactly on your level, Peridot,” Dipper noted dryly as he took his book and left the pair in peace.

“So anyway, where were we before we were so rudely interupted?” Mabel asked, glancing down to her book once more. “Oh yeah! My Stictionary! So stickers fall into several distinct categories: puffy stickers… googly eye stickers… bumper stickers, scratch and sniff stickers, sniff and touch, touch and taste, and last but not least, price stickers! You can get these free at the store!”

“This is all very… fascinating,” Peridot deadpanned. “But what exactly is the point of these… ‘stickers’?”

“What’s the point?” Mabel frowned, baffled by such a question. “Peri, the ‘point’ is that they’re amazing! Wearing a sticker shows that you’ve got personality, that you’re special and unique. Here, I’ll show you what I mean.” It didn’t take long for Mabel to search through her collection to find the perfect sticker for the green Gem, which she gladly positioned over the diamond on Peridot’s uniform. “There ya go! It’s a turtle; he’s green, just like you are, Peri!”

“Ooooo…” Peridot mused, genuinely amazed by the simple sticker. “I understand everything now; these ‘stickers’ are some sort of Earth status symbol! The more you have, the more important you are, just like you said!”

“Uh… well, I don’t know if that’s-”

“Which is why I must have more of them!” Peridot took the sticker book into her own hands, eagerly flipping through it. “I need to demonstrate to all I encounter my elevated significance when compared to everyone else! And based on what you told me, these stickers are the best way to do that!”

“Whoa, hold the phone, Peri,” Mabel interjected, taking her book back. “I’m more than happy to let you share in on all of the sticker fun, but you can’t just take them from me. If you really want more, all you gotta do is ask nicely! You remember that super-special magic word I taught you?”

“Uh… yes…” Peridot groaned, annoyed as she complied. “Please?”

“Yep, you got it!” Mabel grinned as she brightly offered the green Gem a sunshine sticker. “And here you go, another sticker to show everyone-”

“To show everyone that I’m the absolute best of the best!” Peridot exclaimed proudly.

“No,” Mabel shook her head. “To show that you think manners are number one!” To prove her point, she gave the green Gem yet another sticker, this time in the shape of a #1. This was only the beginning, however, as the next hour or so turned into a seemingly endless sticker exchanges. For every time Peridot remembered to say please in response to just about anything, Mabel readily awarded her with yet another sticker, each of them completely colorful and unique. The green Gem was more than excited to earn them to, placing each of them, dispensing them all over her body to the point that she was more or less covered in them in almost no time at all, much to her immense satisfaction.

“And here’s a special glittery sticker,” Mabel handed the green Gem what had to have been her 3-th sticker. “It’s a pirate ship!”

“Ah yes, a ship,” the green Gem smirked as she slapped the sticker over her shoulder. “Certainly this one will signify my skill when it comes to piloting all manner of interplanetary vessels.”

“Uh, sure,” Mabel shrugged, amused. She perked up even more, however, upon spotting Garnet enter the barn a moment later. “Oh! Hi, Garnet! I’m glad you’re here; I’ve been saving up this super special, color-it-yourself sticker for you! Bam!” She held up a heart sticker, half colored red and half colored blue. “It’s supposed to represent Ruby and Sapphire. Pretty neat, huh?”

“Very,” Garnet smiled, taking the sticker and proudly displaying it on her chest. “Thank you, Mabel.”

“You’re welcome!”

“Wha-hey!” Peridot squeaked angrily after watching this exchange. “What in the name of the Diamonds is this?! I have to go through an endless round of pleasantries to get even just one sticker, but you’re willing to hand them off to the fusion for just walking in? How is that fair?!”

“Aw, Peri,” Mabel tried to reason. “That’s not-”

“It certainly can’t be because she’s of a higher rank than I am,” Peridot continued her rant. “After all, the very thought of that is just absurd.”

“No, Peri, I just-”

“It couldn’t—NO,” Peridot gasped, suddenly mortified. “D-don’t tell me… its because you like her more than me?!”

“W-what?”

“And after everything we’ve been through,” the green Gem lamented. “I’ve never in my entire existence felt so betrayed. And after I finally allowed myself to become your new ‘fiend’ after weeks of you begging for it and everything!”

“You mean ‘friend’,” Garnet corrected.

“Yeah, that too!”

“Oh, Peri, I don’t think you understand,” Mabel said with a good-natured smile. “I like both you and Garnet!”

“Then why did she get a special sticker?”

“Well… uh… just… because, I guess?” Mabel shrugged. “There really isn’t that much more to it. Sorry?”

“Ugh!” Peridot groaned loudly, quickly tearing every single sticker off of her body. “Then all of these are meaningless!” And with that, the green Gem stormed off, though before even Garnet or Mabel could react to her frustration, she hurried back, though only for the purpose of scooping up her discarded stickers off the floor. “I’m still keeping these though. Especially the turtle. Don’t ask why.”

“Log Date 7 13 2. Progress on the drill is going optimal. Surprisingly though, I have a few complaints on the work ethic of-”

“Heeeeeey!” Peridot jumped, startled to the point that she interrupted her own log, She was quick to send an annoyed glance over at Amethyst, or rather, at Amethyst who was currently shapeshifted into Lion beside her.

“Amethyst, really,” Pearl huffed, looking over from her and Ford’s welding work on the drill. “This is no time to be fooling around.”

“Aw, c’mon, P,” Amethyst teased, still taking on the form of the pink beast. “I’m just trying to lion the mood.” She paused for a beat to let her joke sink in, seeing that it had been apparently lost on both Pearl and Ford before she continued it. “Lion around.”

While Pearl merely grumbled at the rather lousy pun, Ford shook his head over it, hardly amused. “Good to see Amethyst’s… unique sense of humor hasn’t changed over the past 30 years,” he noted dryly before getting back to work.

“Do you always use shapeshifting like this?” Peridot asked Amethyst, her tone clearly critical.

“You mean to be really cool?” Amethyst smirked, changing her form from Lion’s to the green Gem’s. “Pretty much.”

“But its such a-”

“-Significant use of energy when compared to the output!” Amethyst and Peridot both said in near unison as the result of the purple Gem’s playful mocking.

“…What was that?” the green Gem asked, confused and slightly irritated.

“I’ve been practicing my ‘Peri’-phrasing,” Amethyst grinned proudly. “Pretty impressive in my opinion, but its hard to beat the original.”

By this point, Peridot was clearly flustered by the purple Gem’s teasing, though she managed to play it off with a small, light chuckle all the same. “So… can you shapeshift into anything?”

“Sure,” Amethyst reverted back into her original form with a daring smile. “Got a request?”

Peridot, in fact, did have a request, one that, Amethyst immediately agreed to the moment she heard it.

“Bawk! Bawk! I’m a chicken!” the purple Gem laughed rowdily, running around the barnyard in the form of, of course, a wild chicken. The others watched on as she scrambled about, all of them mildly amused, though none more than Peridot as she cackled loudly from the realization.

“Ha! I get the joke now!”

“Yes, well, at least she isn’t lion around anymore,” Pearl joked, laughing lightly as she did.

“…Hm. Seems as though Pearl’s sense of humor hasn’t changed in 30 years either…” Ford noted to himself as he continued tinkering away at the drill.

Peridot, on the other hand, did her best to acknowledge the white Gem’s quip with something of a forced chuckle, even if she didn’t really find it that funny. Still, as she had come to learn during her time on Earth, it was often the thought that counted more than anything else.

“Pearl really tries for some reason and I can appreciate that. Stanford is… tolerable, for a human at least. Amethyst’s company is entertaining as well. But the fused one…”

The green Gem’s fake laughter quickly died down as she stole a brief glance over at Garnet. The Gem leader said nothing, keeping her relaxed stance against the barn as she simply sent her yet another silent, solitary thumbs up.

“Eludes me…”

Sure enough, the drill was just about done. In fact, the only thing that really needed to be done on it from a general standpoint was to attach the drill itself, something that both Pearl and Amethyst were aware of as they looked over the sizable injector head before them.

“Ok, we can add more support as we go,” Pearl noted thoughtfully. “But for now, we just have to pick it up and put it on top.”

“No sweat,” Amethyst smirked, shapeshifting into the muscle-bound Purple Puma. “Let’s do this!”

“You’ve got the right idea, but we might want to be a bit more careful.”

“Gotcha,” the purple Gem obliged, shifting back as she extended a cordial hand out to Pearl. “Shall we?”

The white Gem warmly agreed, allowing Amethyst to pull her into a brief, yet surprisingly graceful dance. And that dance was more than enough to bring the two Gems together into Opal without a single hitch whatsoever.

Peridot could do little more than gawk when she saw the familiar fusion, appalled that two incredibly dissimilar Gems could just combine so easily over something so small. She was even more dumbfounded as she watched the fusion swiftly scoop up the drill head and position it correctly for the finishing touches to be made on it.

“That looks great,” Garnet called over to Opal from her spot near the barn. “Let’s take a break.”

As if Peridot couldn’t get even more baffled by the fusion’s ongoing presence, she was even more confused when Opal stuck around even after the Gem leader’s call for said break. In fact, she was so frustrated with just how backwards everything seemed to be here that she found she couldn’t contain that frustration any longer.

“Alright, I’m at my limit!” Peridot growled as she stormed over to Garnet petulantly.

“Evening, Peridot,” the Gem leader greeted as coolly as ever.

“Explain to me, fusion!” the green Gem shouted back. “Explain to me how you Crystal Clods can just go around fusing all willy-nilly like this! The ‘Stepper’ was bad enough, but then there was the ‘Maven’ and the ‘Dipevebel’, not to mention that… thing,” she sneered over at Opal afar in the distance, still happily, harmoniously fused despite the fact that her work was over. “And don’t even get me started on you. I can at least make sense of your existence if it’s for a functional purpose. But you’re not using your combined size and strength to do anything!”

“I’m doing something.”

“And what’s that?”

“Stargazing,” Garnet smiled, the glimmering stars above reflecting against her visor.

Peridot let out a disgusted, disgruntled groan. “You can do that alone.”

“Don’t want to.”

The green Gem scoffed once more, still completely baffled by just how callous and carefree the Gem leader was about something as touchy and taboo as fusion. Oddly enough, however, Garnet didn’t seem to mind her bitter manner, instead silently tapping the empty spot on the bale of hay beside her with the unspoken invitation for her to sit down. Peridot was more than ready to turn her offer down, but ultimately, she relented, sighing as she slipped up onto the hay alongside the Gem leader.

“You can see Homeworld’s galaxy from here,” Garnet began, nodding towards the night sky.

“…You’re right…” Peridot’s eyes widened as she spotted the distant cluster of twinkling stars, so seemingly close, yet so painfully far.

“We’re very different,” the Gem leader noted, smiling over at the green Gem softly, kindly. “I appreciate that.”

“R-really?” Peridot asked, confused. “Even after… what I just said about you and fusion?”

“Peridot,” Garnet’s tone remained calm and even as her smile faded somewhat. “I think a big part of why fusion frustrates you so much is because you don’t understand it. Or rather, Homeworld wouldn’t let you understand what it could really be.”

“Pfft, like I’d even want to understand it,” the green Gem glanced away, coldly. “I think I’ve gotten more than my fair share when it comes to fusion thanks to…” She trailed off, almost not finishing her thought entirely before she shuddered visibly, still completely averting the Gem leader’s gaze. “Pyrite…”

“Pyrite wasn’t a fusion,” Garnet countered, her expression darkening somewhat.

“Uh… y-yes they were?” Peridot frowned. “They were also a complete disaster, one I still can’t believe I let myself be a part of! Every time I so much as close my eyes its like I can still hear his sickening laughter rattling around inside my gem as he ripped away control of my form right out from under me! And the worst part of it all was I let him do it! I let him in and I let that… that abomination Pyrite exist in the first place!”

“Even if you did, its still not your fault,” Garnet suddenly interrupted the green Gem’s bout of immense regret. “You’re definitely not the first to be tricked by Bill. Pearl, Amethyst, and even Ford and I can all attest to that. He has a way of making you think that his way is best, when in reality… everything he does is for his own twisted gain and no one else’s.”

“…Now you’re telling me…” Peridot muttered, pulling her legs tightly against her chest.

Garnet paused for a moment, easily telling that the green Gem was still hardly comforted by the haunted look in her eyes alone. Which was why she decided to take an entirely different route in reassuring her instead. “Your first ‘fusion’ may not have been what a fusion should have been,” she mused thoughtfully, empathetically. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t still see what it’s supposed to be like. If you really want to understand what real fusion is, I could show you.”

“…What do you mean?” Peridot asked, unable to deny her own intrigued curiosity.

“Let’s fuse.”

“Oh my stars!” the green Gem gasped, falling off the hay bale entirely upon hearing this.

“Heh, I get it,” Garnet grinned, extending a hand to help her up off the ground. “You’re not ready. That’s fair. I can’t blame you, especially after what Bill put you through. Another time then.”

“N-no!” Peridot shook her head fervently, determined to prove that she could do this. That whatever lingering terror and dread Pyrite had caused for her didn’t define her even still. “No, just… just give me a sec!”

Garnet complied, creating a space for them to dance in as Peridot rushed back into the barn to get ready. When she emerged, she stumbled out on the ‘stilts’ Steven had given her, hoping that the extra height would help her measure up to the Gem leader’s taller stature. Even still, she was rather nervous, all things conserved, as she teetered over to take Garnet’s hand so their dance could truly begin.

“Get ready,” the Gem leader encouraged, easily pulling her in close. For the briefest of moments, Peridot thought that, as Garnet began to spin her out, that she could do this. That she could fuse and become something more, something better than Pyrite could have ever hoped to be.

But then, in that split second, the fear and doubt all rushed right back in. What if it didn’t work? What if it did? What if fusion, regardless of who it was with, was still just as bad for her as it had been with Bill? What if, with Garnet or anyone else for that matter, it was better than she could have ever imagined? Those, and about a million other ‘what ifs’ dashed through her mind faster than she could keep up with them. And, as overwhelmed by both the countless risks and possibilities as she was, it was no wonder that Peridot ultimately ended up breaking apart from Garnet altogether, far before they even had a chance to fuse.

“N-no, no, no, no, no!” the green Gem stumbled back, clearly anxious and upset. “I-I… I can’t do it…”

Despite the bitter disappointment Peridot was feeling, Garnet merely answered it with a warm, supportive smile. “That’s fine! Peridot, I’m proud of you.”

“Why?!” Peridot huffed, more confused than ever at just how accepting the Gem leader seemed to be of her blatant failure.

“Because you made an effort to understand me,” Garnet said. “Even when it was difficult for you to do so.”

“But I still don’t understand you!” the green Gem groaned, exasperated. “Why are you fused all the time?!”

Garnet took a brief moment to think that this, before offering her answer in a way that Peridot would be sure to understand. “I’m Percy and Pierre.”

Just like that, every missing piece for Peridot clicked right into place. And at long, long last she finally understood exactly what Garnet was and why. Just as she had said of Percy and Pierre, they were, as bizarre as it might be by Homeworld’s standards, the perfect match. “Ohhh….”

“Ok… go!”

“Log date… seven fourteen two.”

Steven, Dipper, and Mabel all gasped, mutually surprised to hear Garnet’s voice joining in on Peridot’s usually singular recordings. Still, even despite the Gem leader’s attempt to start the log, the green Gem was quick to jump in to correct her.

“No, you say it seven one four two! Ugh… Log date, 7 14 2. I have attempted a fusion with the fusion Garnet. I had hoped to gain a better understanding of fusion; Instead, I got a better understanding of Garnet.”

The kids couldn’t help but share a small smile upon hearing this, knowing that this near-final log, just like all the rest they had heard, was by and large a testament to just how far the green Gem had come. For certainly, there had been a time when the only reaction she had towards Garnet, towards any of them really, was scorn and disdain and little else. But now, where there had once been callous cruelty, there now stood genuine respect, respect that Peridot had gained towards each of them all on her own. And that, along with her bold stand against her former Diamond, was something the young trio couldn’t help but be proud of.

“Wait, keep it on a moment,” Garnet suddenly spoke up before the most recent recording could end. “Steven, Dipper, Mabel, you probably shouldn’t have listened to Peridot’s logs, but I know your shared curiosity comes from a place of caring. Either way, you should give her tablet back to her now. She’s going to want to keep it.”

“Wait… what?”

Surprised as they were by the Gem leader’s very accurate foretelling, the kids were even more surprised to see Peridot and Garnet returned to the barn. The green Gem’s former frenzy had finally been quelled, replaced with a calm sort of resignation over her new lot as a Crystal Gem, a calm that had come about in no small part thanks to the Gem leader’s easy reassurances.

“Here, Peridot,” Steven handed the tablet back over to the green Gem with a smile. “You can take this back.”

“Yeah, consider it as a ‘welcome to the family’ gift!” Mabel chimed in happily.

“Mabel, it was already hers to begin with,” Dipper pointed out, amused. “Still, we probably should appologize for listening to all of your logs and everything, so… yeah.”

“Wow, thanks,” Peridot deadpanned as she reclaimed her tablet. She paused, however, noticing as Steven, Mabel, and even Dipper followed suit after Garnet, all four of them offering her cheery smiles and encouraging thumbs up. And, even despite whatever lingered of her dread in turning away and breaking free from everything she had used to know to embrace a life, believes, and teammates she had once stood against but now couldn’t imagine living without, it was a thumbs up that she finally not only accepted, but returned.  

Next: 

[haiky-u-lously]

Valentine’s Surprise: Kagami Part 2

@vball-baes-bball-babes , Here is the second part to your valentine’s gift. Hope you enjoy it. Thanks for all you do.

Part 1 |  Part 2

It was the end of the school day and you had yet to receive another gift from your “secret valentine”. While packing your bags you hoped, maybe they had snuck something into your locker again, but after further consideration figured you might be getting greedy.

You heard someone approaching and looked up from your supplies.

“Hello, Jade.”

You gave the boy a thankful smile, “Hi Kuroko. Thanks for not scaring me this time.”

He just nodded. Then held out his hand. A hand that held your unopened letter.

You immediately jumped out of your chair, grabbed it and hugged the boy.

“Thank you so much! I’m so happy you didn’t let him read this. It would have ruined everything and made it awkward and just thank you Kuroko. You-you don’t know what it means to me.” You held your smile as you pulled away. A small wall of tears building in your eyes.

Having almost forgot about the mishap surrounding the letter, it made you even more ecstatic to see it was unopened.

“But that’s not what—”

His comment was cut off as your phone began to ring. “Oh, just a second Kuroko. Hello?” You turned slightly away so you wouldn’t seem as rude in taking the call.

“JADE! Get out here. Fast.” Then the call ended.

You did not fully understand why Charlie had called you with that message, but figured it was better to play along. “Sorry, Kuroko. Looks like I gotta run. Thanks again for keeping my letter safe. I owe you!”

You gave him a last smile before leaving to find your friend.

“But I didn’t. I tried getting him to read it and he refused…” The blue haired boy sighed in defeat as he realized nothing was going to go easily between you and his Light.

___________________________

“Holy…” You sighed out, once you reached the student court yard.

Someone had done the most intricate chalking of your personage you had ever seen. And, it presented you in such a happy state. Crows feet shown with reflection of the sun, the smile of the image bringing rule smiles to passerby’s.

The artist had slightly curled your shoulder length hair to give it a fuller look in the work and your normally brown eyes seemed to have specks of gold in them. But it was undeniable that the image was supposed to be you. What with your signature glasses being present…you were completely shocked.

It took you almost a minute to gain control over your breathing.

“Wow…” You finally expressed after what felt like hours of staring at the portrait.

Charlie laughed, “Wow? Well, duh. Wow. Its freaking fantastic? Who did this? Do you have any idea?” Your friend turned to face you, facing your shoulders towards themselves, but your eyes were glued to the portrait.

“No.” You answered simply. “But I want to.”

Charlie watched you stare at the chalking. Studying the gaze in your eyes that told you were in complete adoration. (Not with what the drawing was of particularly, but of how much effort someone went through to show you they cared for you).

________________

A few feet away, Kagami stood watching you with your friend.

The smile your features held eased the tension in his shoulders.

“Kagami-kun.”

The red head jerked at the sudden voice behind him. Turning slightly, he saw his basketball buddy and released a sigh. Running a hand down his face, he said, “Jeez, Kuroko. You’d think I’d be used to this by now…”

The blue haired boy just stared up at his teammate. “Kagami, did you do that?”

The boy in question scoffed. “Heck no, I can’t do something that good.” But he turned to look at you again.

“Did you have someone else do it for you?”

Kagami’s shoulders tightened at the accusation, but the 6’3” male made no verbal response.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Kuroko peered around his friend before adding, “So it is Jade that you like?”

At being caught, Kagami nodded in confirmation. Still refusing to peel his gaze from your figure.

“Okay.” Kuroko said, and started walking away.

Confusion became a noose around his neck, forcing Kagami to face his blue-haired companion rather then watch your brunette strands swaying in the slight breeze. “What do you mean okay? You’ve been bugging me about this for weeks and all you can say is okay?” He asked incredulously.

Kuroko simply shrugged as he continued on his path.

Kagami, as much as he didn’t want to, followed his friend towards the main building. Wanting to question him further on the sudden change in attitude about his romantic interests.

____________________

“Well what am I supposed to do then?” You asked. Turning between Paige and Charlie. Hoping one of your friends would have a solution to your dilemma. “I want to know who my ‘secret valentine’ is, but they have not given me any hints and all the gifts just sort of appear…”

Charlie hummed in response. Indicating that you were heard, but that they were thinking through their answer.

Paige responded almost immediately after, “Well obviously they’ve been paying attention to you. I mean they put lunch in your locker, so they knew you didn’t visit between the beginning of school and lunch period. And, they put the cake on your desk, which meant they knew you didn’t hang around your next class during lunch.” She started laughing before continuing, “And they know you well enough to hit your favorite foods with a pizza at lunch and a chocolate cake for dessert.”

Charlie nodded in agreement, then added, “I’d also say they pay a lot of attention to you. The details on that picture aren’t from someone who just knows you in passing. Even if they didn’t make the image themselves they had to give the artist a LOT of direction. I mean the glasses were obviously yours but the sparks of gold that come out in your eyes when you are truly happy about something? That’s something only those who have seen it are privy to.”

“But who would like me enough to do this and not say anything?” You huffed out in annoyance. “It’s not like I’m friends with that many people…”

Both of your friends began laughing and you pouted at the insinuations.

“Please.”

“You are like…”

“The friendliest person out of our whole group.”

“And the whole basketball team knows you…”

“Right can’t forget about all those guys.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yea, sure. I totally bet that it’s one of the players. And, that Ms. I-can’t-keep-a-secret-to-save-my-life didn’t hear anything from her boyfriend. Or, that little I-know-who-everyone-likes had no indication of it.”

Paige acted like you’d stabbed her. “Me? Not keep a secret? Dahling, the things you don’t know.” She smiled at the end, to show you she wasn’t really upset.

“And I have never claimed to know everything about everyone. I can just read people easier than most in our school.” Charlie contended.

“Whatever,” You submitted. “So, how do I find out who it is?”

The two walking besides you smiled at one another. “You leave them a gift in return.” They said simultaneously.

“How?” Your eyes quirked in confusion, wondering how in the world you could leave a gift for someone you didn’t know.

“In your locker.”

“Or the courtyard.”

“Or, make an announcement at school.”

“Oh! I like that option. Good job, Paige!” Charlie complimented.

Paige flipped her long hair over her shoulder with a smirk, “Thanks.”

“So I’m just going to make a school wide announcement?” You were amazed at their combined stupidity. “Yea right. That’d be too embarrassing. And, what would I even say? No, no thank you. Next option.”

“Nah, we’ve decided.” Paige winked at you.

Charlie wrapped you in a side hug. Stepping away added, “Tomorrow be ready to read out a page during the announcements.” Waving goodbye, your friend only had one more thing to say. “Paige, have fun with Teppei tonight. But see if you can pull any information from him. If it is one of the boys, I wanna know.”

The girl still standing besides you held a thumbs-up before giving her own goodbyes and taking off in the opposite direction.

“How do I get myself into these situations?” You asked the sky.

Unfortunately, no response came. You continued on your way home, all the time thinking about if its really worth the possible embarrassment.

______________

During after school practice, Kagami had somehow gotten over whatever bump in the road held his attention during lunch.

Everyone was happy that their star team member was back at peak performance but already missed the ease that they had defeating him earlier. Hyuga and Teppei were taking a break, drinking water and drying off while watching all the underclassmen continue a few drills.

“It’s kinda like a switched flipped in him.” Hyuga offered.

Teppei agreed silently but was busy checking the clock every possible second.

His captain laughed at him before cutting his friend a break. “Just leave early.” The expectant look given in return was nothing but a plea for seriousness. Laughing the dark-haired male repeated his sentiment. “Have fun with Paige but be ready to practice harder tomorrow. Can’t have you slacking on us now.”

Teppei smiled, said his thanks and left the gym.

“Aw young love.” Riko said, approaching the team captain.

Hyuga smiled at Teppei’s retreating figure. “Yea, well he isn’t nearly as bad as Kagami.”

The pair laughed out with ease.

Calming down, Riko asked, “When do you think they will figure out they have the hots for each other?”

Hyuga pretended to think for a second. “I think Charlie might have caught on. Paige probably has her suspicions. As for Jade? If her interactions are any indication, she probably doesn’t even realize Kagami thinks of her as an actual person.”

Riko nodded and waved her hand for her friend to continue.

“I think tomorrow Jade’s friends will make her do something ridiculous to figure out who her secret valentine is. Kagami is going to feel threatened because it isn’t going to work out the way everyone has planned and he will confess to her outright. She’ll think its some prank the team is pulling on her and break out into tears until he calms her down. He’ll say he wants to prove it to her with a kiss because that’s what they do in America but that he doesn’t want to make her if she doesn’t like him back. Then the rest will play out like one of those romance movie stories you love so much, Riko.”

The basketball coach stood in awe of the captain’s imagination.

Neither realized a blue haired boy standing behind them. Hearing everything. And, agreeing that it was the most likely scenario.

Kuroko decided he didn’t want to risk the possibility of either his friends being upset over a misunderstanding. And walked out of practice.

_______________

Your doorbell rang, pulling your thoughts from the homework you had just started to work on.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other side was flat in responding. “Jade. If you are free, I’d like to speak.”

You opened the door and adjusted your glasses. “Oh, hello Kuroko.”

“Sorry for the bother.” He said. “Kagami is your secret admirer.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “Yea okay. Thanks, Kuroko.”

He huffed out in annoyance and looked down to his pup. Silently asking for assistance from the inhuman creature. “I’m not joking, Jade.”

Looking directly into his empty eyes, you hoped you’d see some sort of tell, but they were as blank as always. “Kuroko. Kagami is a basketball prodigy. He is spectacular at pretty much everything he seems to put his mind on. He is super tall, and smart, and funny, and he has a smile that can melt metal. And you’re trying to tell me he is secretly fascinated with a pun loving, cheese head that writes fiction in her free time? Yea, okay. Thanks for playing.”

You went to shut the door. To wallow in self-pity. Sure, you had wanted it to be Kagami, you loved the tall basketball player after all, but you couldn’t see yourself as good enough for him.

Kuroko blocked the door with his body, and you blinked at how suddenly he seemed to have gotten in the way. “I’m not joking. He didn’t read the card even thought I begged him to because he wanted to see if you liked him after he finished his plan. He was upset during lunch because he didn’t see your reaction to the pizza and poem, and then you were sharing it with Paige. He also second guessed if his plan was worth it and acceptable since it could be considered stalker-y.” The boy kept listing off reasons why he thought you secret admirer was Kagami and then he dropped a bombshell. “And, when I asked him how he did the chalking he told me he hired an artist to do it so he could see your reaction to one of his gifts.”

The shock on your face told the blue haired male you were just started to believe in the possibility. So, he grabbed your hand and dragged you out of your house.

“Now, come with me.” He simply stated, giving you time to shut and lock your house door before following him back towards the school.

______________

“Kagami, make sure you get some rest tonight.” Hyuga chastised before exiting the gym.

The red headed player nodded his consent before returning to practice his free throws. He kept trying different forms, seeing which was more consistent. Kagami was pretty upset with his performance during lunch and wanted to be able to impress you when you came in the next day.

It had been a few minutes of no noise coming from anything except him and the basketballs he worked with. So, imagine his surprise when his name was suddenly called followed by a mid-pitched bark.

“Kagami.”

“Bark-bark!”

The shot he was in the middle of rolled from his fingers, barely reaching the rim and falling outside of the basket. He had frozen in place and could rival a statue after being so thoroughly shocked.

Slowly, his blood returned to his extremities and Kagami began to chastise the shadow of Seirin. “Kuroko, you need to stop scaring—” But Kagami cut himself off seeing that his blue-haired teammate was standing next to you.

To him, you looked like a goddess in the light. You chocolate brown hair, and eyes that seemed to shine brighter than a star hidden behind your favorite pair of glasses. “Hello.” He said simply.

You nodded at him but turned away.

He smile dropped and he turned his attention back to Kuroko. “What’s up?”

The boy looked between his two friends. After realizing neither would say a thing on their own he decided to state the obvious before leaving them to their own devices. “Jade likes you, the letter I tried getting you to read earlier was from her.” Before your opened mouth could protest, Kuroko held up a silencing hand signal and continued. “And I told her that you were her secret valentine. She doesn’t believe me. But I told her about the drawing and the jealousy you felt that through you off your game at lunch.” Again, before an argument could be made from the other two individuals in the room, Kuroko moved on. “So, you two work it out and I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Following his spiel, the blue haired male left, little Tetsuya following close on his heels.

It took you and Kagami a few minutes to process everything that Kuroko had shared.

“I didn’t not believe him, I just didn’t think you’d—”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to read your letter, I just didn’t know it—”

You both had tried speaking at the same time and cut off almost equally as well.

Laughing at the awkwardness, you motioned for your crush to go first.

He sighed as he walked closer to you. “I didn’t let him tell me who the letter was from. If I knew it was yours I would have read it. I’m sorry.”

The shock that took over your features did nothing to dissuade his rant.

“Yes, I left the gifts. I originally thought it’d be a nice game. Something from a romance story that would help my case in the event you didn’t like me. But the more I thought about it the more I thought about how creepy it’d be. Someone riffling through your stuff to leave behind food and a creepy poem? Someone leaving more food in your seat? Like, not only could that be taken as you are having a stalker, but also what if the food had been poisoned?” His voice hitched as he changed his pattern of speech, “Speaking of, how could you be so trusting? It could have been someone trying to kill you? And, you just trusted it??”

During this break in his speech you laughed, clutching your stomach. “Kagami, I-I just…hahaha…I don’t refuse free food like that? And, I think anyone going to that much trouble to give me stuff I live wouldn’t really want to hurt me.”

He smiled at you, but disbelief still stood in his eyes.

You even your breathing and began your own short interlude. “I didn’t think you even saw me as anything other then the quiet girl that hung around Teppei’s girlfriend. I’ve had a crush on you for so long but never thought of myself as good enough for you. Also, that letter was a dare from a friend. I never meant for it to get out. If you had read it I feared what little interactions we had would come to a screeching halt because you wouldn’t want to be bothered by someone like me.” You shrugged away your own comments but missed the look that crossed his face. “I just didn’t want to risk the building friendship I thought I was creating with you.”

He rolled his eyes and threw caution to the wind. Wrapping you in a tight hug. The warmth he felt from the contact eased his racing heart.

And, the warmth you felt from him caused your heart to race even more.

You slowly moved to hug him in return and he visibly relaxed.

“I’d wanted to do that and more for so long.” He breathed out lowly.

Leaning back, you looked up into his deep colored eyes. “And more..?” You asked shyly.

The smirk that mixed with his half-smile had your knees nearly buckling.

He winked at you but went back to his simple embrace. “Later. This is enough for now.”

It felt as though he had closed his eyes. You returned the silent gesture and tightened your hold on him.

After a few minutes you both pulled apart.

“Well, I guess I found my secret valentine.” You laughed out a bit nervously.

“Does it bother you that it’s me?” He asked, picking up a ball by his feet and twirling it on his finger, pretending to not care about your answer.

You scoffed at him, “Please. I am doing cartwheels in my head I am so happy.”

He held a full smile as he dropped the ball. “Awesome.”

Your pair laughed a little before you asked, “So, what do we do from here?”

Holding out his arm, the smile on his face unwavering, “Well, it’s still Valentine’s day. How about you let me treat you to a nice dinner?”

The way he asked it seemed to say he was still nervous you’d reject him. Without hesitation, you took his arm saying, “I’d go anywhere with you Kagami.”

“Thank you, Jade.” He pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head. “I’m glad you accepted me as your Valentine.”

[voidwaren]

“Kiss?” someone inquired.

“Um,” the writer responded, after the words had been written. “I can explain.”

But she couldn’t. Not really.

(Only because this was already KINDA SORTA written … not really, I had 400 words and now it’s like 5000—canon to Warren is Strange THE SEQUEL [title in progress] slash Whale Song, but will definitely not stay totally canon. It’ll get somewhat rewritten to fit the context of the actual sequel once I get to that part of the story … whenever that is. Probably. Lord, if only I could explain the absolute mess that is my “Warren is Strange & etc” doc right now. I’m really sorry.)

ALL WARNINGS FROM PREVIOUS INSTALLMENTS STILL APPLY. Meaning the same shit from the video games/Warren is Strange. Just to be safe.

The first time he kisses Nathan, it’s a rushed, bloody thing.

Nathan is both drunk and high on something Warren can’t identify and Warren is two seconds away from busting a nut in frustration over Nathan’s inability to put his own health first—a problem Warren recently found out to be reoccurring for longer than Warren’s been at Blackwell. (Even been in high school, apparently, which just sends all kinds of horrified realizations through his brain when he bothers thinking about it later.)

They’re arguing—brought on by Warren confronting Nathan about not taking his medicine after receiving some hearsay from an accomplished gossiper, which had only added to what he’d originally been suspecting—spitting words and building unanswered questions upon one another, and then one of them starts yelling.

Well, yelling louder. They’re already yelling to be heard over the music, because they’re at a Vortex Club party and it’s a Hot Mess ™ in the making, as per usual, because Nathan had not been answering Warren’s investigative texts and Warren had already maybe had one too many beers (meaning a singular beer—he was working on the lightweight stat of his vitals, okay, it was a work-in-progress) before engaging in a conversation he shouldn’t have taken part in, with someone he normally would have brushed off. Of course, the conversation had been about Nathan, because no one at this damn school could handle the fact that the new-blood nerd was hanging regularly with the rich bitch of Arcadia Bay, and certain people wanted a personal hand in its ruination. Consequently, Warren had gotten riled up.

So, by the time Nathan was emerging from his sacred VIP section, Warren was grinding his teeth to dust in frustration, the alcohol having fueled him until his buzz had all but fully burned away.

Left stewing from the conversation with not a single text asking about Nathan’s medicine answered, Warren approached Nathan immediately, and it all went to shit from there.

In the rush of everything, Warren won’t remember which of them it is that starts yelling first, nor will he remember the words that are said under the pounding thrum of the noise pouring from the speaker just above them, but Nathan is caught somewhere between a loose fury and a wired energy, and Warren knows he’s getting extremely pissed off at him, but he can’t seem to stop himself from pushing it too far.

Maybe he pushes because he’s so tired of Nathan not thinking of himself—despite the fact everyone around them claims the exact opposite of him, that he never thought of anyone else; despite the fact he lets them think that, even if it wasn’t true—or because he just wants Nathan to listen to him for once, because dammit he didn’t save his life for him to turn right around and ruin it the moment he stops looking.

Honestly, Warren can’t believe any of this is happening.

“You were almost arrested for murder, Nathan!” Warren spits, his hand splayed over Nathan’s shoulder to keep him from leaving, and, while he won’t remember all the words later, he’ll remember the hurt and the fury he had put behind them. “Murder! Jefferson was going to use that against you, and you willingly stopped it all on your own? What if I hadn’t known to tell you! If you hadn’t been taking your medicine when they—when they tested you—you could have—they could have—ACK!” Warren chokes, jostled by the sudden force of Nathan pushing him into the wall just behind them with the weight of his arm across Warren’s throat.

“Why the fuck do you think you have any authority to mouth off to me about shit you don’t even understand, Graham?” Nathan retorts, his breath hot and burning with the smell of alcohol. Warren tries to angle his face away, but it’s difficult when Nathan is so damn close. Nathan’s arm, thankfully, drops from where it’s barred against Warren to press instead on either side of him, but now he feels caged in. He can’t move his arms. He doesn’t like the feeling; it’s freaking him out. “You don’t know anything! You think living through a little bit of hell makes you some sort of life expert, huh? Some sort of motherfuckin’ deity of survival? Bitch, I got news for you, you don’t know shit about what it does to me. Any of it!”

“I know it keeps you safe!” Warren half-yelps, and Nathan goes silent, staring at him. The flashing lights around them distort any possible color that might be attributed to Nathan’s appearance, but Warren thinks he might have gone pale. Or green.

Or, really, any color on the rainbow spectrum. The lights were ridiculous. If the situation weren’t curdling something akin to catastrophe in Warren’s gut, he might have found the whole thing funny.

It’s at this point Warren can see the storm brewing right in Nathan’s pupils as they bore daggers into his own, but he’s too tightly-wound and his brain doesn’t connect with his mouth in time to call ceasefire, and he ends up saying words he knows he wouldn’t have said under other circumstances. Warren witnesses something snap in Nathan as he speaks, and then Nathan’s shoving himself up against Warren with venom pouring from his lips before Warren even really understands what it is he’s just done. Not a single word registers in his ears over the buzzing of panic that starts up, all he knows is that whatever Nathan’s saying to him is hurtful and cruel from the tone he uses to wield his verbal weapon, and, for once, Warren thinks he might actually deserve it.

“Cut it out, Nathan!” Warren finds himself yelling, hands flat against the wall that honestly might be fixing his poor posture at this point, he’s been crammed up against it so long. “Cut the fucking scare-tactic bullshit!”

“Scare-tactic bullshit?!” Nathan snarls, then laughs in a low, throaty way that Warren’s surprised he can even hear. It distracts him, just for a moment, from the rest of Nathan happening in front of him. “You want bullshit, Graham? I’ll give you bullshit—!”

Nathan raises a fist and gathers the fabric of Warren’s shirt in it, his mouth still pouring poison that doesn’t register in words, and Warren, furious and panicked and hurt for reasons beyond just whatever it is Nathan is saying to him, grabs the back of Nathan’s head and closes the gap under grounds he thinks might have to do with distracting Nathan from beating the shit out of him right then and there.

It’s not unlike the method Nathan had used against him once upon a time, but he’d added a twist he thought might actually work, because simply getting too close just wouldn’t cut it when Warren hadn’t managed to actually invoke fear in Nathan since the day he’d decided to save his ass from a certain psycho serial killer.

He’d seen it in a movie once or twice. It had worked pretty decently for the people who had tried it. When it didn’t, there hadn’t been any real violence attached to the rejection, just confusion and maybe anger. No one, at least from what Warren remembers, ended up with a bloody lip for their efforts. Then again, no one in the movies had been trying to use it on Nathan Prescott, so maybe this had been an outlier, and a bloody lip didn’t usually occur to those attempting the distraction.

It did, however, occur to Warren. Nathan hadn’t even given the kiss a chance; he’d clamped his teeth down right on Warren’s bottom lip and drawn blood, then shoved away from Warren and stalked back into the VIP section of the party, where Warren couldn’t follow. Warren was too busy smothering his pain and trying to find punctures in his lip to even bother attempting, the blood pouring down his chin to drip onto the tile he had fallen to, staining his shirt and pants along the way.

Well, the plan had technically worked. Nathan didn’t hit him, and he had left instead of continuing the argument. That really didn’t make Warren feel better in the moment, though.

“Shit,” he hisses to himself, wincing when it only pulls his lip, because fuck it hurts. This was the second time Nathan had given him a bloody lip (well, okay, theoretically the first time had been Warren’s doing, but it was as a reaction to Nathan, so it sort of counted), but holy hell, Warren’s pretty sure he could thread some hoops in the holes he was now sporting thanks to Nathan’s ministrations. Does he need stitches? Could you even get stitches for lip punctures? Was he going to have Nathan’s teeth imprints as scars on his fucking lip?

Jesus Christ. This is not what he signed up for.

Hand cupped beneath his chin to try and catch the dripping blood before it got everywhere, Warren stumbles to his feet and weaves around the mingling bodies of the oblivious party-goers in search of the bathroom, knocking shoulders with more than one on the way there. They completely ignore him, too busy in whatever they were doing when he ambled up and disrupted their personal space to break their stride and give him any attention.

He has to brush away both Stella and Hayden (because Hayden apparently talked to him now—it was weird) when he bumps into them, both of them asking what had happened before he can reach the intended destination, but, thank god, the bathroom still has toilet paper and paper towels in it when he gets there, so he’s able to staunch the bleeding somewhat before he makes a total murder scene of both his shirt and the floor of the bathroom. When he spits into the sink, there’s more blood than there is saliva, and his mouth looks like something from a B-horror movie when he opens it.

“Son of an Ewok,” Warren mumbles into the mirror he’s basically pressing his face against a moment later as he assesses the damage, the cool curved point of the sink making good friends with his hipbone in a somewhat painful way. He ignores the feeling in favor of getting as close to the mirror as physically possible, gingerly moving his lip this way and that against his teeth to try and tell if any were showing through the potential rips in his flesh. It takes him a good five minutes to determine the damage. His appearance alone scares off two people who attempt to wash their hands while he’s busy monopolizing one of the mirrors, but he kind of enjoys that.

Turns out Nathan didn’t actually puncture his lip, but you would have thought he did from the way the things wouldn’t stop bleeding. Was it normal for lips to bleed this much? Warren thinks he still might need stitches. How was he going to explain this to his parents? “Yeah, just kissed a guy so he wouldn’t smash my face in and it backfired in a way movies never prepared me for, no biggie. Just sew me up and send me on my way. Lesson learned, I promise. No more psychopath smooches.”

Yeah. That would totally work.

“Dude, who are you talking to?” Warren startles away from the mirror, his fist of bloody paper still hovering by his chin, and finds Trevor (was this guy everywhere?) staring at him in sudden yet mild alarm. Warren thanks the gods that Trevor’s a pothead, because panic was the last thing he wanted to deal with right now, and Trevor already looked a little green beneath his uneasy expression. “Whoa. What the hell did you in?”

“A shark,” Warren says bluntly, dabbing his lip again. Trevor’s alarm grows. Warren has to resist the urge to grab him by the shirt and ask him if his brain cells were really worth it. “Jesus, does it matter? I’m bleeding like a stuck pig, is this normal?”

“I don’t know,” Trevor responds, hands in the air and eyes firmly on Warren’s mouth. “Does it feel normal?”

Warren turns and stares at him, perplexed and a little dumbfounded at the question. “Feel normal? No! It fucking hurts!” How would he know what would feel normal, anyway? It’s not like he did this regularly. What kind of asswit question was—

Warren stops his train of thought with a jolt, blinking at himself in shock. What the hell?

He was too angry. Way too angry, and taking it out on someone who just wanted to know what was going on.

This wasn’t how he would have handled things before. This wasn’t the kind of person he was.

… Was it? Did Warren even know himself anymore?

Had he known himself in the first place?

“Man, I think you need to …” Trevor starts after watching Warren unconsciously sway against the line of sinks. He steps forward and grabs the hand holding the bloody paper, then guides it to Warren’s mouth and pushes with enough pressure to make it sting sharply. Blood swirls along the underside of Warren’s tongue.

“Ow!” he yelps, startled, then nearly chokes on the blood as it hits the back of his throat.

“Sorry,” Trevor mumbles, pulling away long enough to let Warren spit in the sink. The moment Warren’s done, though, he’s back again, and he doesn’t lessen on the pressure. Warren’s hand, the original bearer of the paper towel ball, stays in Trevor’s grip the entire time, and Warren’s too distracted to think about removing it. Trevor’s red-rimmed eyes stare holes into their combined grasp on the paper towel wad, but Warren thinks it’s in concentration, not because of the way his fingers were fitted right between the spaces of Warren’s as he held the paper firmly to Warren’s wounds, his (relatively) clean fingers a stark contrast to Warren’s bloody ones.

… Which Warren’s now staring at himself. Quickly, he flicks his eyes away from the mirror and settles for staring intently at the smeared red adorning the tiles below the sink instead, groaning at himself inwardly. He really needed to stop attending Ladies’ Night with the girls (who was he kidding, he attended all nights with the girls, Nathan was too picky about his tastes most of the time), because the romcoms were starting to get to him. Trevor? Really?

“Head wounds are a bitch,” Trevor continues slowly, oblivious to Warren’s inner turmoil and fairly rude repulsion. “Pretty sure you’re supposed to apply pressure to get these to stop.”

Warren … knew that. He knew that. He really did.

But he doesn’t mention that fact, and he doesn’t stop Trevor from holding his makeshift gauze to the wounds, because Warren had been the idiot in this situation, and sometimes it was just easier to let someone else take the reins. Instead, he slumps back against the sink and closes his eyes, fingers of his free hand curling around the cold porcelain to anchor himself in, and lets Trevor do the work.

The party outside is loud, and the music booming echoes into the spacious tiled area that constituted as what was technically the locker rooms, though only the bathroom area was accessible during parties. Probably in an attempt to prevent accidental pregnancies in the dark corners the area offered, but Warren thought that was pretty useless when most of the students lived on campus anyway and could just take it to their dorm rooms.

But, really, who was he to question the decisions made or the logic behind them? He’d just pulled a ridiculously reckless move and paid the price for it, he wasn’t exactly up for candidacy as the next Head of High Vulcan.

“I think it’s stopped,” Trevor says after a while, pulling the paper away for a final time. “Fuck, bro. That’s harsh,” he remarks. There’s a tinge of sympathy to his voice. Warren slides open tired eyes to see Trevor peering at his lip with his own mouth twisted in a grimace.

“Yeah,” Warren agrees wearily, wincing when his mouth continues to sting from the movement. “But it was a stupid thing I did. Kind of deserved it. Thanks for the help.”

Trevor shrugs, finally releasing Warren’s trapped hand. Warren tosses the saturated ball of paper into one of the trash cans, scowling at the drying blood still on his fingers. “You looked like you could use a buddy,” says Trevor. He turns away and starts washing his hands, watching Warren through the mirror in front of him. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” Warren says. At least until I have to explain it to Max, and then Chloe, Warren adds on silently. He hadn’t thought of a perfect excuse just yet (the same one he’d used the last time he’d punctured his lip would probably be a good idea, though falling down the stairs was even better, if he could think of some remote stairs to blame), but Nathan was completely out of the cards without question. He knew what Chloe was capable of, even if he had never witnessed it, and he wouldn’t doubt Chloe would give Nathan hell if she ever found out he was involved. Knowing Nathan and how he tended to handle confrontation, it just wasn’t a good idea. He’d be asking for the start of a war by sic’ing those two against one another, and it wasn’t worth the battle.

“If you need any medical shit for that while it heals,” Trevor continues as he dries his hands, “I can hook you up. Dana’s wicked with a kit, she fixes me all the time. Skating, you know?”

Warren doesn’t, but he nods all the same. “Thanks, Trevor,” he says, and he means it. “Seriously. I appreciate it.”

Trevor salutes him as he heads towards the exit back into the pool area. “Just stay away from sharks, my man.”

Warren huffs a laugh at that, unsure if it could be followed, but it turns out Trevor’s advice isn’t needed. He doesn’t see Nathan again the rest of the night.

Warren understands, later, that this doesn’t really constitute as Nathan kissing him, but his mind catalogues it before he can think to right it, and he doesn’t bother going back on it. Mostly because it’s Nathan, and anything less than getting brutally bitten from engaging in mouth-to-mouth contact with him just wouldn’t seem logical. Warren only wishes he had thought of that fact before trying his distraction tactic. More because of the reactions the bandages he slaps on his lip brings, which get more and more annoying the more he has to deal with them, but also because Nathan refuses to speak to Warren from that night on, and it’s actually driving Warren a minor amount of nuts.

He’d sent Nathan a lot of texts that night the fight happened, and none had been answered, but the texts he sends the day that follows are also ignored, even after Warren outright asks Nathan if he’s okay. That really tugs on his persistence. Being the better man should have some reward!

But more texts are ignored as the days trickle on, and it’s to the point where Nathan refuses to even look at Warren when he sees him in the halls, using people like a remorseless Victoria and a sympathetic-yet-dutiful Hayden as shields whenever Warren gets near and acting like he can’t hear Warren calling his name. It’s so sudden a change that, for a moment, Warren even debates asking (begging) Victoria for help, because he doesn’t know what the hell to do when he can’t even get any response from Nathan and she knew him better than anyone Warren had access to.

Okay, yeah, maybe it had only been like three actual days since the fight, and maybe both Max and Chloe had basically said “good riddance” to Nathan’s sudden departure from contact after catching wind of a rumor—which had been started up by the few people that had actually witnessed the fight (thankfully, no one had seen Nathan almost bite Warren’s lip off, so his excuse of stairs and epic tripping was still pretty sound)—about Nathan turning on Warren, but Nathan’s friendship was something Warren thought he had achieved. He didn’t spend every waking moment with Nathan, sure, and Nathan got pissy more than half of the time they did hang out, causing him to blast Warren at full power, but ignoring him? For days? The fight had been a bad one, and both of them had clearly fucked up, but Warren was starting to feel more and more guilty the longer Nathan acted like their bonding hadn’t happened.

He just wanted to say he was sorry and have it accepted. Why was that so hard?

Four days would be Warren’s limit and, despite the fact it would be a Tuesday that night, Warren decides he’s going to camp out outside Nathan’s—and, well, his own, since he was right across the hall—room and make him talk to him.

That had to work, right?

Yeah, no. It really didn’t. But Warren tries anyway.

He knows Nathan has a Vortex Club meeting that night, so he’ll be getting back later than he would if he were just spending the rest of the day with Victoria. Warren uses this to his advantage—and by that, he pretty much just makes sure he’s seated on the floor right outside Nathan’s door about an hour after classes ended, because the meetings had varying lengths and Warren didn’t want to miss his chance. It’s once he’s been sitting there a good forty-five minutes that Warren realizes he probably should have asked Hayden for his number (manipulative, yes, but if Hayden wanted to be nice to Warren, then Warren was going to use that) so he could have some sort of indication of when the meeting would actually end, but now it was too late for that.

Despite the fact he had lived through a time loop that pretty much required a form of planning to get out of, Warren really wasn’t the best at planning things out in a way that benefitted him. Which, really, made too much sense in retrospect.

The first hour ticks by; Warren’s spent it texting Max, Brooke, and Chloe (in pure meme, an accidental challenge Warren had initiated and Chloe had taken up in full), and hunting through Reddit threads for old Lost conspiracy theories, because why not. Twice people have asked him what the hell he’s doing (Luke, who tells him to just forget Nathan, and some guy named Steve, who seems to find the whole thing amusing and wants a photo), but mostly people have just filtered in and out of their rooms and left Warren to sit alone in the hall.

The second hour brings immense boredom, a very numb ass, and, at the forty-one minute mark, the blessed form of Trevor. Again.

“Hey, Shark-bait!” Warren winces at the nickname, his wave stuttering with the movement before his hand falls to his side. Unceremoniously, Trevor drops to the floor beside Warren and fastens a grin onto him. “What are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for Nathan.” Warren gestures to the door with a nod, just in case Trevor didn’t connect the dots.

Trevor’s grin droops. “Yo, heard that rumor. Dunno what you’d do to invoke that Prescott wrath though. Is it true?”

“The fight?” Warren shrugs. “Yeah.”

“Dude, is that why you were bleeding out in the bathroom? Holy shit! How did he get you like that?” Trevor asks, gesturing first to his own mouth with his thumb and then mimicking the gesture over Warren’s. “How do you even get something like those?”

“Are you asking me how I got these scars?” Warren says, smirking. Trevor looks blankly back at him.

“Uh, yeah, I guess. I wouldn’t really call them scars yet. They look like scabs.”

Warren sags back against the door with a groan of defeat. “I feel so underappreciated here.”

Trevor’s phone goes off, interrupting whatever he had been about to say, and his face lights up when he looks at the screen. “Gotta go, man,” he says, slapping Warren on the shoulder and standing up. “Dana’s out and we have a date. Don’t get in anymore fights, ‘kay?”

“I don’t know, I’ve got a taste for blood now, I don’t think you can hold something like me back,” Warren says sarcastically, ignoring the minor spike of panic that jabs him in the gut. If Dana was out, that means Nathan was, and he was probably going to be back any minute.

Trevor laughs. “Whatever you say, man. Later.”

And then he’s gone, and Warren’s left sitting on the floor outside the dorm room of the guy he’d willingly beaten up in timelines that he wasn’t living in anymore. Suddenly jittery with nerves, Warren pulls himself to his feet and turns to Nathan’s door and debates his options.

Which, honestly, was one of two: stay or go.

If he stayed, it could end badly. Nathan could get angry and start a fight—one Warren likely wouldn’t retaliate in, because Nathan was not the person he’d been those other times, and Warren was not going to hit someone he’d managed to become so close to, not over something so stupid as medicine. (Though, seriously, that was a talk that needed to happen, and Warren wonders why Nathan’s therapist hadn’t noticed. Unless they had? What was the protocol for something like that? No. Distractions—stop it Warren.)

If he stayed, Nathan could also just push him aside and abscond into his room, which would render this all null.

But if Warren left … what would that accomplish? It might be the safer option of the two, but if Warren really wanted to get Nathan back on his side and talking to him, running away was not the option.

Why did it seem like every time Nathan was involved, as an enemy or as a friend, Warren got sucked into engagement with him whether he liked it or not? What was he, a Nathan magnet?

Was that why he’d been the one to suffer through that loop?

Well, no. That wouldn’t have made sense, because Jefferson was the loop, not Nathan. Nathan had just been connected to Jefferson, and therefor been the easiest route to capturing Jefferson before he could kill the people he killed in the past loops.

… Right?

Why did that … suddenly not sound so right to Warren? That’s what he had been going on, and that’s what had made sense. Going on that logic was how he got out of that manifestation of actual Hell he’d been thrown into, that had to be right. So why did it suddenly just sound … not?

Why did Warren—

“If you don’t fucking move right fucking now, I’m going to decorate my door with your fucking teeth.”

Warren startles with a jolt, whipping to the side to find Nathan glaring daggers at him and looking like he’d keep to his promise if needed. Warren clutches the front of his shirt, willing his heartbeat not to puncture a hole in his chest, and anchors himself against Nathan’s door with the other hand to keep from outright collapsing.

“Nathan,” he wheezes.

Nathan’s eyes, formerly on Warren’s, flick towards Warren’s mouth and stick, widening from where they’re focused on what is undoubtedly Warren’s scabs. Surprisingly, all the blood seems to drain from Nathan’s face and, for a moment, Nathan looks utterly shocked. It’s wiped clean from his features not long after it arrives and Nathan returns to glaring, but the blood doesn’t return, and he looks shaken and far less aggressive than he had just a minute before.

“I’m sorry,” Warren says as soon as he’s sure Nathan’s not going to smash his face in. Nathan blinks, then scowls.

“Yeah, I got the damn memo,” Nathan spits. “Like thirty fucking times.”

“You won’t answer me!” Warren exclaims, holding his hands out. “Come on, Nathan,” Warren pushes when Nathan’s glare is deviated to the wall beside him. “I didn’t mean to do all that. I got worried and I heard shit and I started thinking about what could have happened if I hadn’t known and what if that messed it all up? What if that had been a key? Or what if it hadn’t meant anything but it could have convicted you or something and then it would have been on me because I’m the one who did this four fucking times so I should know—What?”

“I asked if I did that,” Nathan repeats just as quietly has he had the first time. Warren’s brain stutters away from his rant, but fails to comprehend what Nathan’s talking about until he lifts a finger and points at his own mouth.

“Oh,” Warren says dumbly. His thumb shoots up to self-consciously finger the scabs, his tongue automatically moving to press on the inside and look around for holes he already knew weren’t there. Nathan’s eyes watch unblinkingly. “Yeah. You’ve got some power in those chompers, dude. Did you know head wounds bleed a lot, even if it’s just your lip? The swelling is finally going down, but it was pretty funny to look at for a few days there. I would look horrible with lip injections.”

Nathan remains silent, his eyes still firmly on Warren’s mouth, and Warren drops his hand when he remembers he’s not supposed to mess with the scabs. The silence stretches, plainly uncomfortable, and Warren shifts on his feet the longer it goes, unsure if he should break it.

“Jesus fuck,” Nathan finally whispers, just as Warren’s about to break the silence himself. “I didn’t mean to do that. Did it hurt a lot?”

“Like a goddamn bitch,” Warren answers proudly. “Kind of upset you didn’t go straight through, I think I would look badass with some snake-bites.”

The face Nathan makes tells Warren he thinks otherwise. “You need to lose the pathetic virgin aesthetic first. It won’t work with metal.”

Warren stops himself mid-eye-roll, suddenly realizing they’d fallen back into their comfortable banter. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?” Warren asks tentatively.

Nathan looks away. “Fuckin’ looks like it, doesn’t it?”

Warren grins. “You’re forgiven too, then,” he says, then snickers when Nathan looks back at him with narrowed eyes. Warren takes a step to the side, freeing Nathan’s door to access once again. “Also?” he adds on while Nathan moves to unlock his door. “Learned my lesson. You were a shark in a past life, man.”

That gets Nathan to smirk. “And you were a gopher.”

“Sharks don’t eat gophers, Nathan!” Warren calls as Nathan’s door shuts in front of him, but it’s with a grin wide enough to pull on his scabs, but Warren ignores the feeling.

The first time Warren kisses Nathan, it’s a rushed, bloody thing that ends with a set of faint white scars that can only be seen when Warren smiles a little too broadly. Not an idea setting for a first kiss between people, but that’s okay. It just meant the second kiss couldn’t possibly go any worse.

… Second kiss?

Moral of the story: Don’t let me do kisses. They don’t go how I plan them to.