#not a single fully clean skate

[a-birdhouse-in-your-soul]

the euro men’s free program…sure was a men’s free program…

[zorosdimples]

mdni. nonconsenual groping and ajax tartaglia childe’s foul legacy form (a dash of monsterfucking)

perhaps it’s cruel of him to tease you so—donning his foul legacy form and cornering you, a little human who naively wandered too close to a fatui camp in these remote woods. chasing you under dappled moonlight is exhilarating, but the harbinger wants to play a more intimate game.

fear is one of tartaglia’s favorite emotions; it’s telling, it’s universal, it’s honest. and your gaze—brave yet shimmering with unshed tears—tells him all he needs to know: you’re scared. and he has you right where he wants you, up against gnarled tree.

the beast curls a single steel claw beneath the neckline of your shirt and rips the garment clean off your body. a panicked whimper leaves your lips—bitten and bruised from anxiety—and your hands fly to your chest, your instinct to hide from the monster’s prying stare (though you can see no eyes on his masked face).

tartaglia kneels to get closer to you, though he still fully eclipses you on his knees. sweat gathers at your temples and your legs quiver as he grasps your wrists. but he’s surprisingly gentle when he guides your hands away from your breasts and down to your sides.

a rich purr rumbles his chest as he views your bare torso, skin slashed by a glowing moonbeam. hot tears drip from your lashes and carve burning tracks down your cheeks; you tremble in horror when a tongue prods out from underneath his mask. it’s long and pointed and utterly inhuman as it laps up the sweet salt on your skin.

the harbinger’s claws skate up your sides firmly, the gleaming tips embossing puffy lines onto your flesh. his tongue continues to lave at you, snaking down the arch of your neck and the slant of your sternum to wrap around a pebbled nipple and tug.

the sound that bubbles past your lips is half-gasp half-moan. it’s mortifying—your stomach churns in disgust—and you bite your tongue until you taste copper. but the damage is done.

tartaglia won’t stop until he hears all the lovely music your body can make.

[sunflowergirl522]

Benches and Questions

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Mom!Reader

Summary: Eddie helps you set up the girls playroom.

Word Count: 3001

A/n: You have to see the vision with the bench yourself.

The Twins Masterlist

Saturday afternoon your parents come to pick up the girls to get them out of the house so you can set up their playroom. You dropped the last few boxes off at Steve’s parents house before work on wednesday letting them be their problem now. Your girls have enjoyed the room being empty, they’ve been running around it or putting on their roller skates and just going in circles. They especially loved when Eddie brought the couch cushions in for them to play hot lava.

The cushions are the first things that go while cleaning what few things are in it out after they leave. Next are the skates and Primrose’s big wheel she brought in to drive around while Callie was watching a movie the other day.

“I thought you were gonna wait for me to do all this?” Eddie asks as he enters the house and toes his shoes off while seeing you in the hallway with the broom and dustpan in your hands.

“I’m pretty sure I never agreed to that. Besides, it wasn't even that much to clear out.” Eddie may have helped make the mess but he’s helped you so much more than he could even imagine that you didn’t care cleaning up after him. It did warm your heart at how adamant he had been about you letting him help though.

“Alright, you want me to start bringing their toys and stuff down while you sweep?” He figures the least he can do is save you the trips up and down the stairs since he was the main reason the room was a mess.

“That would be great!” You beam at him and Eddie swears it lights up the whole room. “You can leave the kitchen and bigger toys up there though, I can help bring that stuff down.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie stopped fully listening once the word leave left your mouth already halfway up the stairs. If you thought he was actually going to leave you anything then you would be sorely mistaken. You wouldn’t even have to go up one single step if he’s able to have his way. And he’s sure he will, Eddie has a way to get you to let him do things for you that you wouldn’t let even Steve do. Like helping with dinner or letting him make you a plate of whatever you made or dishes or even just cleaning up in general. You could just recognize the urge, the desire even, in his voice to take care of you and your girls. It was one of the things that had you falling for him so quickly.

While you sweep the area you hear some rummaging from Edde moving up and down the steps. When you finish and leave the room to help or start going through boxes you find the Little Tykes kitchen sitting in your entryway. 

“Edward Munson, I know you didn’t purposely bring this down when I told you not to.” Your hands go to your hips as you look at the man coming down the stairs with the box marked toy food.

“So what if I did?” He shrugs before putting the box down and standing in front of you, arms crossing across his chest. “Your mom tone isn’t gonna work on me so don’t even try it.” He interrupts before you can even say anything. You stare up at him refusing to break eye contact and lose this small battle the two of you are having. He quirks an eyebrow up and a huff comes out of your nose before you reluctantly look back at the toy kitchen.

“Now why don’t you go put some music on because I know you’re dying to do it.” He was right you had a hard time doing anything without music or something else on in the background especially when the girls weren’t home. “I’ll bring a couple more boxes down and then I have something for the room in my van.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing big.” He waves a hand to dismiss whatever fight you would’ve started over him buying something for the playroom and heads back upstairs to escape it even more.

You just shake your head and walk over to pick a record to play before deciding where to put the kitchen. You decide to push it into one of the farther corners and you’re dumping out the box of food to organize it when Eddie comes into the room two more boxes of toys in his arms. You nod at his ‘be right back’ and start organizing the toy pile in front of you into food and pots and plates and so on. You’ve started putting food in the fridge and the dishes in the little cupboard above it when he comes back inside, placing whatever he’s brought down in the middle of the room. 

You stand before looking over at it and him. When you do your mouth drops and you’re left speechless as you walk over to stand next to Eddie and get a better look at it. 

“It’s not much, I thrifted the bench itself and then painted it in my freetime.” He rubs the back of his neck not being able to tell if you like it or not. “And look, it’s storage space too. I know you can’t get enough of that with these two.” He lifts the seat up to show the empty space inside and your hands go to your mouth. 

“Eddie…” You can’t seem to find the right words, any words really, as you take in all the delicately painted primroses and calliopsis over the bench and the two fairies that look like your girls. “This is just…this is perfect. They’re going to love it.” Your voice is soft as if you can barely get it to come to the surface and your eyes tear up at his thoughtfulness.

“Do you love it?” Obviously he cares if the girls love it but he knew they would, he really needed you to love it though. If you didn’t then he would repaint it over and over again until you did. All you do is nod before hurriedly bringing him into a hug to show your gratitude. A kiss gets planted on his cheek before you part leaving him pink and smiling.

“We can put this against that wall.” You point to the one with the windows in front of the two of you and he knows immediately that you’re gonna want in under one of the windows itself. “I wanna put their train table right here.” Here being the middle of the room.

You continue with telling him where you want things to go. The table they normally use for arts and crafts and board games in the corner to the left of the door, the chalkboard on the wall across from it on the right side, the Barbie dreamhouse in the far right corner across from the kitchen and their container of dolls next to it. He makes note of all of it, wanting to make sure the room turns out exactly how you’ve imagined it.

With Eddie’s help you’re able to get the room set up in no time. He brought everything down while you organized it all. He only let you help him bring the train table in from the garage because you were being stubborn about it. 

“It looks great Princess.” Eddie says as the two of you stand in the entrance taking your work in. “The girls are gonna love it.”

“Yeah.” You’re smiling wide looking at the room that’s bound to become a mess almost as soon as they get home. You lean into Eddie’s side nudging him with your elbow. “We make a great team, the best one really.”

“Yeah, we do.” Maybe it’s how you looked up at him as you said it. Maybe it’s the truth behind your words, the way you actually believed the two of you are the best team. Or maybe it’s because this moment just feels right because Eddie decides that he’s gonna ask you out right then and there. 

“I’ve been wanting to ask you something.” His voice is soft and he turns to face you completely to find you facing the room again. You feel him reposition himself and glance over before turning completely to properly meet his gaze. You’re almost breathless as you do, the adoring look in them seeming to punch you in the gut.

“Yeah?” 

“I was wondering if maybe you wanted to-”

“Mama! We’re home!” Callie’s happy voice interrupts Eddie and she’s crashing into your legs as soon as the door opens enough for her to rush in.

“Hey Callie darling! Where’s Rosie?” You send an apologetic look Eddies way before crouching down to block her view of the playroom she has yet to notice.

“Outside.”

“Why don’t you go get her and I’ll show you the surprise Eddie and I set up for you.” She nods excitedly before running back out. You stand and face Eddie again ready to tell him to keep going but Steve comes in before you can get a word out.

“Hey there cuz!”

“Hey! What are you doing here Stevie?” You let him bring you into a hug feeling bad about all the interruptions to whatever Eddie was about to ask you. 

“Your mom and dad stopped by the store to say hi and let the girls pick out movies but then he got called into the office, there was some sort of emergency or something, and I said Robin and I could drop the girls off after our shifts were over. Did that give you enough time to finish the room?”

“Thanks to Eddie.” You nod before looking towards the door just in time to see your girls come in with Robin behind them. You’re crossing the entranceway to crouch in front of them both while they take their shoes off in no time. “You girls know how all your toys have been stored away?” They nod in response without looking up at you. “Well Eddie and I made the front room into a playroom for you two.”

“Really?” Rosie perks up first followed by Callie’s wide eyed stare soon after. They share a look before standing up and rushing to go see it hand in hand. 

“Woah! You guys did such a good job in here.” Robin says as she follows the girls in and looks around. 

“It was all mainly her, I was just the muscles.” 

“You helped plenty Eddie.” You nudge him with your elbow as you stand next to him again and watch the girls look around. “You should go point out the bench to them. Otherwise they might not realize till you’re gone.” He nods, stepping back into the playroom and getting their attention.

“What bench?” Steve asks, swinging an arm around your shoulders and bringing you into a side hug while you both observe the interaction.

“Eddie thrifted a storage bench and painted it white with their flowers all over it. And on the front he painted the two of them as fairies.” Your throat constricts while talking about it still not over how utterly kind and thoughtful the whole thing is.

“Damn looks like I need to step up my gift giving game.” He adds as they start to excitedly squeal upon seeing the fairies gaining Robin’s attention who had been flipping through one of their coloring books. “They’re gonna start loving Eddie more than me.” He fakes being close to tears, pouty lips and all and you shove him away laughing.

“You’re unbelievable. Are you guys staying for long?” 

“Nah, I’m having dinner over Robins tonight so I have to drop her off at home and get ready before going back. So we should head out soon.” You can only nod in understanding before Rosie is calling you over to look at Eddie’s painting.

After Steve and Robin leave you finish making the dinner you started in the crock pot earlier while Eddie plays with the girls. The whole time your mind is plagued with the thought of what he could’ve been about to ask you. You could just be hopeful and imagining it but it seemed like he might’ve been about to ask you out. The very thought of it makes you giddy and you don’t want to get your hopes up but oh do you want that to be it.

“Girls, dinner!” You announce loud enough for your voice to break them out of whatever game they’re playing with Eddie that’s causing them to be so loud and giggly. You get their bowls ready and take them into the dining room as Eddie comes in both of them hanging onto his back. The smell of the food has them wiggling to get off and you hold in your laughter at Eddie trying to make sure they get down safely and not react when his hair gets tugged on.

“Alright I stand corrected, they are excited.” Eddie says when they cheer as you put their food down in front of them.

 “I told you, they love buffalo chicken pasta.” When you told him this is what you were making tonight he was skeptical that they actually liked it. When he was a kid he hated anything even mildly hot and he still can’t get Jeff to even touch a hot wing. So when you told him this was the girls favorite meal he had a hard time believing you. He should’ve though.

“Sit Princess, I’ll go get our food.” Eddie pulls out your chair for you, placing a hand on your shoulder briefly when you sit smiling down at you before heading off into the kitchen. Your heart swells at how domestic it feels, something that seems to be happening a lot recently. Normally during meals but sometimes when you’re all watching a movie or you’re both playing with the girls.

“What were you guys playing in there?” You rest your head in your hand as you ask. You watch the girls light up again and can’t help but smile at it.

“Out to eat!” Callie answers.

“Eddie was our customer and Callie was the server and I was the cook.” Primrose continues.

“They kept messing up my order.” Eddie comes back sitting next to you and across from Rosie and setting your bowls down. “I was getting, oh what’s that word. Girls?”

“Disgruntled!” They both answer before bursting into giggles and Eddie smiles fondly at them while you watch in shock.

“Did Eddie teach you a new emotion word?” You’ve been trying to teach them different emotions so they can express themselves easier when something has upset them or is bothering them. So it means the world to you that Eddie would teach them one through play. “That’s so great.” You add once they nod and go back to eating. The beaming smile you send Eddie has him filled with pride that he was able to do it. Honestly he was nervous they would’ve forgotten it and his ploy to show you what they learned would fail.

The girls fall asleep later while watching The Muppet Movie and Eddie helps you take them to bed once it’s over. He rewinds the tape and takes it out while you wash the popcorn bowl and then you walk him to the door like you always do when he leaves.

“Thanks for all your help today.”

“Anytime. I’m always here to help, you know that.” He smiles up at you from where he’s crouched to put his shoes on after he talks.

“And thanks for teaching them a new word. You have no idea what that means to me.” 

“Oh that.” He shrugs it off like it’s no big deal while standing up. “That was nothing. I just saw an opportunity and took it.”

“So, what were you gonna ask me earlier?”

“Oh, that? That was uh.” He trails off rubbing the back of his neck and looking away from you. He’s lost some of that confidence he had earlier. He doesn’t want to claim it was nothing because it’s not nothing it’s actually so insanely important to him that the thought of you saying no has him wanting to tuck his tail behind his legs and run away like a dog. 

“You don’t have to ask if you’re uncomfortable now. I don’t mind waiting till you’re ready to ask whatever it is again.” You meant it from the bottom of your heart because as much as you’re dying to know what it is, you also want, need, Eddie to feel comfortable around you.

“Do you wanna get dinner with me Friday night?” Something in the way you tell him he doesn’t have to ask you anything has him blurting it out. “Like as a date?”

“I’d love to!” You don’t think about it as you enthusiastically answer. “I’ll see if someone can watch the girls that night and let you know if we’d have to reschedule or not.”

“Perfect.” Eddie can’t tell if his, what he’s sure is goofy, smile is more from you saying yes almost before he could get the words out or from your own beaming one that he swears could light up the darkest corners of his room at night. “That’s perfect.” He lingers in the doorway ready to get home and sleep before his early and long shift tomorrow but not quite wanting to cross the threshold and leave this moment, leave you, behind. “I’ll call you tomorrow after my shift.”

“Okay.” It’s silent then between the two of you, neither one wanting to say goodnight just yet. “Goodnight Eddie.” You pull him into a hug as you speak Eddie can’t help but feel at home in your arms.

‘Night Princess.” The two of you stand in the embrace for a while before Eddie places a kiss on your head and heads towards his van.

Eddie Taglist (32/40): @sadbitchfangirl​ @notbeforelong​​​​ @navs-bhat​ @emotionaldreamer​ ​​​​​  @gaysludge ​@eddiethesexy @mazerunnerrose @midnightsgetawaycar   @mushroomelephant @saramelaniemoon @nojamsonmytoast @vintagehellfire @esoltis280 @spikedhe4rt @siriuslysmoking @toobsessedsstuff @alana4610 @gretavanfleas @sparkletash @aactuaaltraash @spookyemorockbabe @jesssssmaybank @tlclick73 @eddiemunsonslittlemetalhead @bl4ckt00thgr1n @eli-flower @canyonmooncreations @witchwolflea @emxxblog @chaoticgood-munson @loves0phelia @nightfiress @moonnooon

Everything Taglist: @matchamunson​ @bubsonnobx​ @practicalghost​ @katsukis1wife @crustyowos @yourfavdummy @protecteddiemunson4vr @kennedy-brooke @m00nkn1ghts @rory-cakes

[animeloverskylarmoon]

Ichigo Kurosaki (Bleach) - Oneshot

There were no illusions about your place in the Soul Society. 

As a lower level subordinate, you knew there was a range in ability. 

Power. 

You supposed you just thought that one day that barrier would mean nothing to you. But standing there, watching the very image of a hollow in soul reaper form, it was terrifying. The mere fact that you were standing in the presence of its spiritual pressure was a miracle in itself. All you heard was word of Rukia’s injury and you came to help. 

But that thing..it was protecting her. 

You lectured yourself to grab her and move, run, do something, but you couldn’t get your body to react. You weren’t even sure you were fully breathing anymore. 

The hollow that came in its path had been sliced with ease, it barely lifted a finger. One clean swipe and that was it, the hollow was gone. Your trembling form just gaped at the dissipating remnants of a threat. 

Standing protectively in front of Rukia, you lifted your blade and when it turned to you, there was a part of you that assumed you were dead. 

It released a roar and you heard the stagger of your heart, you fear was the only thing that felt real in that moment. 

Maybe that’s why its statement had utterly confused and terrified you. 

“I will protect them.” 

Your eyes opened lazily and you stared at the ceiling. Lifting your hand, you marveled at your fingers. 

“A memory..” 

That very one always appeared when there was word of his return. 

Kurosaki Ichigo. 

His visits were often. 

After Aizen and even Ginjo’s rebellion, it was common for the substitute reaper to stop by. It’s been years since then. With his recent recovery of ability you could practically feel the energy of the Soul Society change. Renji and Rukia were more lively. Hanataro seemed altogether happy. Byakuya, although forever stoic, even he seemed pleased at the circumstances. 

You should be overjoyed, ecstatic. After all, Ichigo has done nothing but protect the Soul Society time and time again. He is a hero, something you’d always envied. Yet every time there was even a mention of that name, something in your body just froze, panicked. 

Then those dreams would break through and you felt paralyzed, helpless. 

That day, he could have easily killed you. You heard the stories of what went down in Hueco Mundo. But before that moment you’d coughed it all up to exaggeration. When you actually experienced it, there was just a part of you that needed to be far away from it, from him. 

Rising to your feet, you grabbed your zanpakuto from the wall as you slid it into your belt, ready to start the day. 

The busy atmosphere was expected. After all that happened, things were returning to a state of normalcy. The minute you landed in the sixth squad, you were ready for whatever task your captain had for you. 

“Kuchiki-taicho.” 

You bowed upon entry to his office, Renji already at his side. 

“Please deliver these to squad four.” Byakuya ordered. 

“Hai!” 

You took the stack happily. 

“Oii, don’t go getting distracted!!” Renji calls. 

So maybe your attention span wasn’t the best, but you always got the job done. With a grin, you were skipping through the barracks. The fourth squad was much closer, so it wouldn’t take that long. 

Maybe you could have a nice chat with Hanataro while you were there. Smiling, you were humming as you kept on your journey. You’d only stop when someone called to you. Skating to a halt, you tried to place the male voice. 

“Hey, do you know where Rukia is? She was supposed to meet me at the gate. Why the hell did they let Kenpachi of all people come get me!” 

He was complaining, and you could understand. You laughed, turning to give instruction. He must have been one of the many human visitors from Karakura Town. 

“I can take you to Rukia-san if you…” 

Every muscle in your body went still and all you released was one single breath. 

Orange hair, brown eyes, it was him..

You swallowed and he moved closer to probably address you, but you gasped, dropping all the documents in your hands. The stack fell, a few sheets soaring away with the wind, adding to his confusion. 

“Hey! Your stuff is flying away.” 

He intended to help, and instinctively, you must have released a mass of spiritual pressure, because he staggered at the change and all you could get yourself to do was take unsteady steps back. Your eyes were wide with fear, body shaking. 

There was a significant change in his expression, from confusion to possibly understanding. He lifted his hand and you flinched at the very moment you saw the flapping of captain robes. The figure on the back of the coat was a dead give away of your superior. He was standing in front of you almost protectively, clearly expecting a threat. Renji appeared seconds after, looking over puzzled. 

“What the hell Ichigo?” 

He was clearly trying to gauge the situation, and Byakuya’s gaze shifted in your direction. You were still releasing an alarming amount of reiatsu. When he saw the terror on your face, it became clear what the threat was, at least in your eyes. 

“Calm down.” 

It was said so firmly that you blinked, now looking up at him. Byakuya’s authority was something most people feared, but for you, it has always been more about respect. Maybe that’s why you were able to finally exhale. It was a shallow breath, and in a matter of seconds he could feel your spiritual pressure lowering. Your breathing was starting to return to an even level, and this time you looked up at Byakuya apologetically. 

“G-Gomen Taicho..” 

It was just above a whisper. He said nothing, just turned to Renji. 

“Escort her back to our squad barracks, I will take Ichigo to the Head Captain.” 

“Hai, Taicho.” 

Renji turned to you, lifting you into his arms as he took off. The second you were gone, Ichigo’s eyes seemed to trail over in that general direction. 

“I know her..”

He wanted nothing more but to banish that look. In truth he hadn’t seen such unfiltered horror since that time with Orihime. It had taken so much for her to gaze at him without feeling like a monster. 

He thought he was past it, but the suddenness of the situation had caught him off guard. It was painful to think about. You were so scared that you’d unconsciously triggered your reiatsu defensively. 

“Let’s go.” 

Byakuya said nothing else, because there was a part of him that understood that the words Ichigo needed to hear would not mean much coming from him. 

~

“Damn it..” 

You were embarrassed to say that least. 

To make matters worse, Renji had to be the one to carry you back. 

“You’re heavier than you look.” 

The statement caused a pulse on your head. 

“YOU BASTARD!!” 

With a firm kick to his jaw he was down for the count. 

Now seated in the barracks, Byakuya has not so subtly kept asking you to complete tasks within the squad. You knew it was more for your piece of mind. You wanted nothing more than to pretend that the incident didn’t happen, but it was impossible. You feel pathetic, clinging onto the past. But you couldn’t help it. At that moment you realize that you’d never dealt with it. 

That fear. 

So much had happened during that time that there was never a chance to address it. You never confronted the situation and now it was coming back to bite you in the ass. 

With a heavy sigh, you finished the last of the filing, now bored and embarrassed. Moping through the squad, you just seemed to run through all the reasons why you’d probably be stuck as a lower level subordinate for the foreseeable future. 

“I’m useless.” 

“You’re strong.” 

Your body processed the owner of the voice before your mind truly did and you were once again standing in that open space, staring at him. He didn’t move and you couldn’t breathe. 

“Byakuya told me to steer clear of you while I was here, but I had to..I needed to apologize..” 

You were startled at how hurt he looked, or maybe that was..shame?

“I thought you looked familiar. You were there that day in the squad barracks, with Rukia.”

The mention of it had every single memory rushing back and the roar echoed in your head. Your eyes shook and Ichigo looked away. 

“I’m not a monster, and I won’t hurt you. I just needed you to know that.” 

He turned his back and you felt the twist in your gut. In your head you know, he’s an ally, but your body wouldn’t give you the satisfaction. More than anything you felt awful for treating him like that, looking at him that way, but it was hard. 

Your silence must have been all he needed. He took a step, and even though every bone in your body was screaming with fear, you still managed to get a word out. 

“W-Wait!!” 

He froze in place, and you pressed your hand to your chest, clutching the front of your robes. Ichigo finally willed himself to turn around, and he was stunned to see the tears rushing down your cheeks. He could see it, the fear, it was still there, but there was also sorrow, regret, pain. 

He could see how difficult it was for you to stand there, in front of him. 

“T-Thank you for always protecting us!!” 

You bowed and your tears pittered to the ground, heart racing. 

Ichigo knew that despite everything, your reaction wasn’t intentional. With a solemn smile, he nodded. 

“You’re welcome.” 

Just like that he was gone, and some small part of you felt just a bit of that weight, that fear dissipated. 

[andipxndy-writes]

will you be my maybe

fandom: abbott elementary warnings: tw: injury; tw: blood; tw: hospital (in earlier parts) requested by: anon 1 & anon 2 word count: 2.6k

cross-posted to ao3

chapter summary: “Come on!” she called back, almost excitedly. Maybe she could have waited a little bit for him to actually get out of the car, but she didn’t turn around to check on him until she was a good few feet away and he was calling to her. He was leaning on the top of his car, his forearms resting there with his sleeves rolled up slightly. He wasn’t the kind of person to roll his sleeves up like that, not usually, so it was kind of… anyway, he was leaning on the top of the car. “Shouldn’t we get our bags?” he called out to her. “We can grab them later!” she called back, holding her hand out as though he was close enough for her to grab and pull along with her. “Come on!”

They're finally heading to Janine's cousin's house for the family barbecue… and Gregory is given the chance to meet all of Janine's family. All of them.

will you be my maybe? chapter 4: reunion

This time, everything did indeed go off without a hitch.

Janine managed to finish packing and got everything that she’d wanted to and more, and Gregory didn’t just stop at cleaning the kitchen. He migrated to the living room, which was actually incredibly dusty, and Janine was very sure that the room thoroughly appreciated the hoover being dragged along the carpet and dredging out dirt that she herself hadn’t had the time to get out since Tariq had left. Well, maybe even before then, since he never really hoovered whenever it was his turn to clean the living room, but she was moving past that now. Tariq was gone, and his chores were here job now. She’d had the chance to clean her own house.

Well, really, between keeping every other room clean, keeping on top of the bills, keeping on top of her car payments, preparing for the new school term, and at least trying to have a life, she hadn’t really had the chance to clean her own house. Home. Apartment. That she was renting.

God, was rent due soon?

Anyway, as already stated, she managed to finish all her packing without a hitch, actually taking the chance to ask Gregory to help her get to things on high shelves once he was done with his cleaning so that she didn’t fall off anything and injure herself again. And he looked pleased enough that she’d had the wherewithal to ask him instead of trying to do it by herself again. In fact, she was pretty sure that if she’d asked him to do all of the packing for her, he would have. Except for maybe the underwear. She didn’t think he was the kind of person to go rifling through her underwear to pack it. (Plus, there was specific underwear she had to wear at specific times and— maybe she was thinking too much on this, actually…)

By the time they got to Gregory’s car with both of their bags, both of them fully packed and ready for a whole weekend full of fun with her family, she was more than ready to get going, bouncing on the balls of her feet excitedly.

She was actually getting to go. Yes, Gregory was driving, which wasn’t exactly ideal considering she’d wanted to drive and he would have to use a GPS to get to the exact location, but she was getting to go. She couldn’t wait to see her family — her cousins, her aunts and uncles, even her cute little nieces and nephews. And, obviously, her mom.

“God, I can’t wait for you to taste the food,” she said as Gregory unlocked his car, the two of them getting in. “It’s so good! You’ll love it! There isn’t a single person who can’t cook in my family. Well… my mom isn’t the best cook, but everyone else is amazing. And I’m so sure that they’ll love you.” She was grinning at him as they shut the doors. “Oh my god, I can show you all the places I grew up around on the way! It’ll be great! I’ll show you the park we used to play at, which was a derelict building, and the skate park my cousin used to skateboard at, also a derelict building… oh, and the library, which might be a derelict building now—”

When Janine next opened her eyes and looked out of the window, she realised that they were three blocks away. Three blocks away from her cousin’s place.

“Wha…?”

Last she recalled, they were only a couple of streets away from her apartment.

She didn’t know when she’d closed her eyes, or how she’d even fallen asleep, but the next thing she knew was that she and Gregory were about three blocks away from where they were heading — three blocks from where her family were gathering for a barbecue, from where her aunts and uncles and cousins and mom and sister—

Oh god, she’d forgotten to tell her mom that she was on her way with a friend before they left the apartment. And that, of course, she was coming late because she’d had an accident.

Some small part of her hoped she’d guessed that something had happened from how she’d texted her from the hospital the night before, telling her about how she wouldn’t be able to pick her up on the way over so she’d have to find another ride or a way to her cousin’s, but she hadn’t asked anything. She hadn’t even responded (unsurprisingly).

“We’re not far off,” Gregory explained, as though she couldn’t see it, and then he glanced over at her. “You have a good nap?” The confusion on her face probably told Gregory enough to get him to explain as he started looking around for parking. “You somehow knocked yourself out talking about five minutes into the journey. I don’t know how it happened, but I do know why.” As he slowed the car to a stop, he gave her a look.

She scowled at him. A light scowl, but it was still a scowl. She was definitely sure that she’d got enough sleep, and now he was talking as though she hadn’t got enough and that was why she’d dozed off. (It absolutely wasn’t the reason why she’d dozed off, she was sure of it.)

He sighed. “Alright then.” A few minutes later, the car was parked a block away. A block away, but Janine could hear the music already. The music that reminded her of home, which made her smile.

If she closed her eyes, she could smell the food, she was sure of it.

“Let’s go!” She didn’t even realise the car had just about stopped and her seatbelt was still on when she tried to open the door, but Gregory reached across her, stopping her.

“At least wait for me to switch off the engine.”

“You could switch it off faster.”

“You could wait five more seconds.”

She stared at him as he moved to switch of the engine, and somehow, he looked like he was moving way slower than he needed to. Her eyes were just about narrowing at him when his finger turned the key, and then the engine was off, and they were left in a silent car.

And that was when she snapped off her seatbelt and jumped out of the car. “Come on!” she called back, almost excitedly. Maybe she could have waited a little bit for him to actually get out of the car, but she didn’t turn around to check on him until she was a good few feet away and he was calling to her.

He was leaning on the top of his car, his forearms resting there with his sleeves rolled up slightly. He wasn’t the kind of person to roll his sleeves up like that, not usually, so it was kind of… anyway, he was leaning on the top of the car. “Shouldn’t we get our bags?” he called out to her.

“We can grab them later!” she called back, holding her hand out as though he was close enough for her to grab and pull along with her. “Come on!”

He seemed to hesitate for a few moments, as though he was really wondering whether her confidence in getting the bags later was really okay, before he finally gave in and moved away from his car, shutting the driver’s door and locking it behind him before walking over to her.

She didn’t realise he hadn’t expected her to take his hand until she looked up and saw that he was looking at her strangely. At least, it looked strange to her. Maybe it was normal to him. Maybe this was how he reacted to everyone taking his hand. After all, she didn’t really take his hand a lot — it was usually the kids that did that.

“Hey, are you good?” she asked, letting go of his hand with a small frown on her own face — one of genuine concern. As a side note, she hadn’t realised just how soft his hands were—

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he responded with a smile. They were just reaching the front door, so in her head she breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t want to take him in if he felt uncomfortable for any reason, or he might get more uncomfortable and that was not her aim right then.

“Great!” She smiled at him widely before turning towards the door, raising her hand and knocking.

***

To be honest, Gregory should have expected to be at least a little bit overwhelmed by the welcome he got. After all, there were a lot of people there, and at the front door he was greeted by at least four different women whose names he definitely didn’t catch. He was pretty sure two of them were cousins of Janine’s, but he couldn’t remember.

And of course, once he got into the house fully, there were many more people whose names he didn’t catch at all. Mostly women, many of them cousins, all of them smiling at him and grabbing Janine and trying to pull her to help them out. So much laughter and shouting and there were kids running about, playing with each other. He was very sure there was someone’s grandma yelling at them to slow down or sit down or something.

This was so much louder than his family.

He needed a break, and he’d barely been there.

Despite that, his eyes kept flitting over to Janine, to where she was being pulled out through the back door to the barbecue — something about her being some sort of taste testing queen (and he was very sure that was where her ferocity with ribs came from). They’d replaced the band-aid before they left her place, cleaning the wound beneath it. It still looked ugly as all hell, something he hoped healed soon so that they could take the stitches out and Janine would go back to looking like her regular self all over. But he couldn’t help remaining worried about her, about that head injury and whether she was really coping. She was really good at brushing things off and acting as though it was all alright, but then there’d be something so seriously wrong that you wonder how she could’ve even considered keeping it secret. He hoped dearly that she wasn’t doing the same thing again and putting her health at risk to please people.

“So, Gregory, right?”

The sudden question made Gregory jump a little, pulling his attention from watching over Janine from a distance and onto someone he knew had to be one of Janine’s many cousins. Of course, he couldn’t remember her name, and he was getting the feeling that he’d passed the awkward point of no return. It was also too late to worry about that, really. He offered the woman what he hoped looked like a comfortable smile. “Yes, Gregory. Gregory Eddie.”

The woman crossed her arms. “You a friend of Janine’s?”

“Yeah I, uh…” He glanced in Janine’s direction to see if she was watching the interaction. She was not. “I’m just a colleague,” was the safe answer he opted for. After all, he didn’t know whether Janine had spoken to her family about him, about the people she worked with, and even if she had… how had she described them? Did she say they were friends, like she did to their faces, or just colleagues? He knew she wouldn’t say anything mean about them, that wasn’t the kind of thing Janine did, but he still couldn’t be sure exactly who she’d told them about, or what she’d told them.

“Just a colleague, huh?” The look she was giving him made Gregory more than a little uncomfortable. “You must be some colleague if she’s bringing you instead of Tariq.” Before Gregory could even open his mouth to say anything in response, though, she was turning and calling out to someone.

Gregory had to bite his tongue to stop himself from talking. Didn’t they know Janine had broken up with Tariq? Or maybe they had, and they thought Janine had moved on? Or maybe they were in denial about it? Either way, soon enough there was someone else walking over. Someone else that made Gregory realise he absolutely wanted to run away and clear his head for, like, five minutes, at least. Just to feel a little less overwhelmed by this whole room of very loud people.

But also because this woman looked too much like Janine to be anyone but her mother.

“Auntie Van!” The cousin was calling her aunt over and being so friendly that Gregory absolutely could not run. Not when the older woman, Janine’s mother, walked over with a cigarette between her fingers, makeup a little on the overdone side, looking very much like Janine would if she were taller, bustier, and had a very different sense of fashion.

“Tanishe,” the woman greeted, except without a smile because she was focused on Gregory. “Who’s this boy?”

The way she looked him up and down made his skin crawl.

“It’s the guy Janine brought with her. You know, instead of Tariq?”

“Mmmm.” She was still looking him up and down, even as she took a drag. “I wonder why.”

Gregory had to try very hard not to cough when she breathed into his face (it was intentional, he was very sure that it was intentional), but then she was turning away without even saying anything, swaying her hips in a way that Janine definitely wouldn’t. Janine was so different to her mother that it was… a surprise that they were even related, really.

“Well.” Gregory’s attention was brought back to Tanishe, the cousin who had apparently tried to introduce him to Janine’s mother. She was looking him up and down just as ‘Auntie Van’ had, but the look in her eyes was a whole lot less predatory. (That, of course, was the point he realised the look in Janine’s mother’s eyes was predatory.) “That’s Auntie Van. She’s practically in charge here.” Tanishe folded her arms. “If she don’t like you, you’re gonna have to go.”

Gregory wanted to ask if she’d liked Tariq, and then realised that she had to have. She had to have liked the guy for him to be with Janine for so long. It was a stupid question.

“You’re just lucky she hasn’t made a decision on you yet.” And with that, Tanishe turned and walked away, following Auntie Van into the kitchen or wherever that woman had headed off to.

Gregory let out a breath that he hadn’t realised he’d even been holding. That was before she’d made a decision on him? That felt a whole lot like her making a decision already and deciding to hide it until he gave her a reason to say it and get rid of him. Which, of course, would be difficult considering he was Janine’s ride. They’d agreed to be there together for the whole weekend. Maybe he’d find a cheap hotel or something, somewhere to stay for the weekend if she kicked him out.

The smell of cigarettes lingered, though, and he glanced towards the kitchen to see Janine being fussed over by a couple of her cousins.

She was fine… right?

That was all that was on his mind as he turned and headed for the back door to get some fresh air. He had to get the smell of cigarettes out of his nose, and even with the limited grass space outside? It was better than the smell of tobacco.

As he stepped outside though, he couldn’t help but think, ‘This space… could use a lot of work.’ But, of course, he wasn’t going to say that out loud.

[austerlitzborodinoleipzig]

Some notes about 4CC pairs event.

A bit underwhelming all around. Besides the Golubeva/Giotopoulos-Moore nobody really skated the lights out.

Btw the Australian's were imho underscored. They absolutely could have gotten a medal with that skate. I adore their FS it fits them really well. Great performance especially on Hektor's part but once she landed everything Anastasia came alive. Wonderful transitions out of the death spiral and into the spin. Looooooved their choreo sequence Anastasia can hit some stunning positions into the lifts. But small fed scoring will do that.

Kam/O'Shea need to figure out their throws ASAP. Ellie can't keep falling on every single one of them. She kinda landed the 3L in the free. Maybe do doubles ?

Liu/Nagy have stunning lifts and twist but jumps weren't jumping and their programs arent really inspired.

Peng/Wang do not get enough credit for what they put out on the ice. Yeah the jumps look hopeless but.

Best throws in the business, they are massive

No one here could skate their programs and by that I mean no one could do that level of choreo and do the elements. Nobody comes close to Peng Cheng in terms of posture, precision and musicality.

Miura/Kihara's packaging is all kinds of tragic and it feels like they've been skating the same program for three years now. If both SD/D and M/K go clean at Worlds I fully expect SD/D to win the title because at least SD/D have interesting choreo.

[readingbythestreetlights]

i was tagged by the wonderful @crimsonicarus to share a snippet of one of my WIPs!!

i couldn’t decide if i wanted to post a bit of my mcstrome one or my mick/esteban one, so here’s a snippet from each!! (my apologies, the first one is a little long.)

despite all the rain

Dylan really isn’t a big fan of taking faceoffs against McDavid, but they are, quite frankly, the easiest part about playing him.

Training for faceoffs is less about the speed of your body and more about reaction time. Dylan has good reflexes. So when the arena goes quiet for that split second between the time the ref blows the whistle and when he actually drops the puck, Dylan steadies his breathing. Track the puck, don’t look at your stick. If you don’t win it immediately, do what you can to wrestle it from the other guy–don’t let him pass it cleanly back.

Dylan takes a shaky breath, not looking at the yellow CCM stick in front of him, instead watching the referee’s hands, preparing. Then the puck drops and he wins the draw, sweeping an easy pass back to the defense.

Whip’s earlier acknowledgment of the energy was on point; it’s one of those games where all the lines are working hard, some of the guys who usually fly under the radar finding important moments to shine through. Alexeyev has a quality block, rewarded with pumped-up hollers and stick taps on the shin as he passes by the bench. The bigger guys are doing their thing, throwing their bodies around and getting some good, clean hits in there.

The Capitals aren’t in a playoff spot at the moment, but they could be. There’s still a month and a half of the regular season, enough time to play catchup to the current Wild Card teams, still only behind in the runnings by a handful of points. This road trip is important. Dylan imagines the announcers are probably saying something about how this little Pacific swing could quite possibly define the season for the Caps— to make the playoffs or to not make the playoffs?

With the game tied at one going into the second (a powerplay goal for Osh and a killer snipe from Nugent-Hopkins on an odd-man rush), the team knows they have to take it up to the next notch, understands that they have to capitalize on the puckluck and good vibes tonight or forever hold their peace.

McDavid gets the puck stripped from him early in the period. The Caps bench is full of cheers and shoulder bumps at that.

Dylan would be lying if he said he doesn’t feel the need to prove himself every time he plays Edmonton. When everyone’s eyes are drawn to number 97 anyway, it’s easy to pretend that there’s no extra reason Dylan’s gaze follows McDavid between shifts. It’s easy to pretend that there’s no reason Connor would or should look back at all.

Dylan still wishes he would.

It’s early in the third that the floodgates fully break open for the Caps, the score having been stuck at 3-2 Washington since the middle of the second. The fourth goal is Dylan and the fifth might as well have been credited to him, fishing the puck out in a tough battle against the boards and deking out the defensemen before giving a slick saucer to Sheary, the pair of them getting herded into a good old Tom Wilson hug after the goal.

Dylan and Connor’s eyes meet as Dylan skates toward the bench to high-five the boys. It’s brief eye contact, but God, it has meaning.

won’t we see you once again? (in foreign soil, in foreign land)

Mick doesn’t bother too much with getting to know new people. He prefers consistency, enjoys conversations threaded with inside jokes, old stories, no expectations.

Esteban had looked pretty in the Spanish sun, his eyes appearing amber and his grin as inviting as ever.

Mick had let himself enjoy it. He was single now—no guilt for appreciating the beauty of life.

Offering up Mallorca just made sense. Mick, for some reason, has never minded showing Esteban the places most dear and private to him. He likes it that way.

Thinks the lack of walls between the two of them is nice.

Thinks the lack of walls between them could one day amount to a lack of physical distance. Hopes, anyway.

Esteban wears that grin no matter who he’s with.

Still, Mick hopes the way the French driver bites his lips softly while in conversation with Mick is purely reserved for just that. Conversations between just them.

[loulucifer]

Lucky and Bria Some of Lucky's teammate's meet Bria.

hey if this is weird im writing it while drunk so

The dating conversation happens every time his teammates meet Bria. It makes sense, Bria is always their type, but she’s basically everyone’s type. She’s 5’9, blonde, a figure skater. When Luka says this it’s just the truth, Bria doesn’t really date anyone, she’s always been competition focused. She’s been making the national team since she was sixteen. Bria’s type is winning. He doesn’t fully know how to explain this to his teammates without seeming rude. It’s not that Lucky doesn’t want his sister to date his teammates, he could care less, Bria has made it very clear that that isn’t something she wants.

 They’re playing in Montreal when Bria says that she’ll come watch the game and hangout afterwards. Lucky feels fear, he’s sure that his teammates knew about her. She’s been in his Instagram posts, and she’s known throughout the figure skating world. Bria Dupont is probably more famous than Lucky. After the win against the Habs they’re all in the locker room getting ready to head back to the hotel, when Lucky decides to say something.

            “So, my sister is in town. Her and I are going out for drinks if anyone would like to join,”

There’s an energy shift in the room, focused on Lucky.

            “Bria?” Jack asks.

            “Yep, she’s my only sister,” Lucky replies.

            “I think some of us were headed out already, if you both want to tag along.” Petey proposes.

            “Sure, yeah, she’s excited to meet you all.”

            “Is she single?” Jack jokes, lightly elbowing Lucky.

“Oh, Bria doesn’t really date hockey players.” He says, this is not the first time he’s said this, and he doubts there will ever be a last time.

“Wait really?” Their interests are seemingly spurred on.

“She’s way more focused on her skating career, she doesn’t date in general, but has made a very pointed statement against hockey players. I’ve tried I swear.” Lucky shrugs and continues to change. Bria always put her goals first, and those goals never included other people. When Lucky started playing hockey he would try, only for Bria to point out that maybe he was just trying to live vicariously through her. She’s smart like that, she’s also brutal.

-----

After a stop at the hotel to get changed, and for Lucky to take a quick shower, a small group of him, Quinn, Petey, Boeser, Studs and Cole choose to go out. They meet Bria at a local bar, it’s fancier than any were expecting but at her suggestion they don’t want to decline. Bria of course is there ahead of time, her long blonde hair tied into a clean ponytail, wearing a nice square neck top and light wash jeans. Parts of Lucky wonder if he would’ve ever looked like her, part of him wonders if ‘perfect’ is just part of her genetic makeup.

“Luka!” She says, pulling him into a hug the moment she can. She smiles at the others following, letting go of Lucky and offering out a hand to shake.

“It’s nice to meet you all, I’m Bria.” Everyone seems a little off put by how forward she is. How she has no fear. “I’ve already heard so much about this group.”

“Hopefully positive.” Boeser says.

“Sure.” She smiles nicely though glancing at Quinn. They all order their drinks and take their seats.

“So, Bria, you gotta tell us about Lucky, it’s like pulling teeth to learn anything about him.” Petey chirps.

“OH, there’s so so much. Did he tell you he started as a figure skater?”

“BRIA.” Lucky’s face flushes.

“It’s true! It’s why he’s so graceful.” She adds.

“No way,” Cole takes a sip of his drink. “I mean… that tracks.”

The rest of the night is slow, they chat and drink, it’s not crazy though. Lucky thinks they’re trying to impress Bria, or that Bria intimidates them. Everyone is on their best behavior.

            “Bria, Lucky says you don’t date, is that true? Or does he just not want you dating his teammates?” Studs asks. Bria is so poised; she laughs a little at the question.

            “Luka, did you just say I don’t date hockey players?”

            “Well… I said you don’t date in general too.”

            “I mean, that’s true.” She shrugs and takes a sip of her drink. “I’m not interested, honestly.”

Bria is every hockey player’s dream girl, and Lucky grapples with the fact that he could’ve been the same. He’s not completely jealous of her, but parts still ponder the ‘what if?’

            “Really?”

            “I mean… I don’t… Like men?” She replies taking a sip of wine. There’s a pause of silence as everyone freezes as though they’re afraid the next thing out of their mouths would be offensive.

            “Yeah, that’s a big part of it.” Lucky shrugs. He knew that Bria was a lesbian, he just didn’t want to out her to his teammates.

            “Is there a problem with that?” It’s responded to by a chorus of ‘No’ by the others. She smiles, and chatter continues. Though Bria does not mince words when it comes to Lucky’s upbringing, much to the enjoyment of his teammates. The conversation is fine till she brings up Felix.

            “Luka and Felix, our oldest brother, used to fight SO often. But that settled when Felix was out of the house, he’s older than us both by a bit.” It’s so harmless. It should be harmless.

            “Lucky, you never told us that you had a brother?” Quinn says.

            “Oh yeah, Felix and I are no contact.”

            “Yeah, he’s older than us by a bit, he’s six-ish years older than Luka, so he was out of the house when Luka was 13.” Lucky just nods at Bria; he doesn’t want to get into it more. He hasn’t spoken to Felix in eight years now, he won’t start now.

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

The night goes on, eventually moving to a club because Studs said he wanted to dance, and no one protested. Lucky gets a moment alone with Bria.

            “They’re nice, I like them more than the leafs.”

            “That’s high praise, but they’re on their best behavior.”

            “Is Quinn still bothering you?”

            “He doesn’t bother me. He just… He doesn’t like me.”

            “That’s a shame. You’d be cute together.”

            “BRIA.” Lucky slaps her lightly.

            “Do they know about you yet?”

            “No. Nothing. I don’t let them.” She shrugs in understanding.

            “Eventually? Do you think?”

            “No. I can’t. I don’t want them to think I’m some freak.” She sighs, they have this conversation every time he moves. About how he should just be himself. He just can’t do it. Especially when he feels like things are going right. God, what would Quinn think? He already think’s Lucky is incompetent, he doesn’t need to fuel that fire.

            “Don’t count yourself out, they like you.” He nods in response; Bria puts a hand on his shoulder. He’ll always have her; she’s always been his protector. Better than he’ll ever be.

[a-kaash-me-outside]

dear author im gonna be real with u right now.. I couldn’t bring myself to fully read the rest of the chapter when it was clear there wasn’t going to be any clean up of the angst like you’d said. there was barely an acknowledgement of the angst from y/n herself. I physically cringed when I realized she was literally about to put his dick in her mouth before it had time to dry off from the previous girl ahhhh at this point it isn’t even about seeing atsumu grovel or whatever like we had all joked and bantered about after the last chapter, it was the shitty way he spoke to her that needed addressing, which he himself barely addressed, and y/n straight up didn’t even think she deserved an apology in the first place which absolutely blew my mind. and the straight nosedive into the smut when immediately prior to that both characters had been super shaken up mentally and emotionally, it felt rushed and forced and like I was trying to be convinced that it would be plausible for people to have sex right after something like that.

just last chapter these two dingle berries couldn’t communicate for shit and could barely make it through an argument without waking up the entire floor, and we all spent the past week talking about how we should try and understand where the characters are coming from because being 100% at communicating just isn’t realistic and then.. a couple hours later in story time atsumu jarringly has the ability to be calm and apologize and confess his feelings and y/n suddenly decides she no longer is an avoidant person and has the courage to knock on his door and hash things out face to face. both these characters were able to do a 180 immediately after the climax of the story with minimal effort and address what they had been unable and unwilling to for the past few weeks/months. which conveniently was the last remaining plot device that was preventing them from having sex haha. I dunno. the deus ex machina-ness of it all and their sudden good communication skills made it really hard to keep myself immersed in the story 

at one point I thought, alright wait maybe its one of those times where the character’s passionate emotions get in the way initially, and afterwards the characters will get serious and there’ll be a genuine acknowledgement of hurt feelings and a thought out conclusion to the entire angst plotline.. and then the story just ended? in the most cop out-ey way? the single conversation where the audience would be able to actually see the most character development between the leads happens off screen..idk. maybe i’m being emotional and I should pick it up again in a few hours. i’m genuinely invested in the story but the chain of events in the last chapter threw me for a loop.

yoooooo. okay. let's dive into this my dude. i was contemplating even replying to this just because!!! this is just my silly little fic that i wrote. okay. let's dive in. <3 explanations and thoughts under the cut babes!

i guess first of all i want to say that this is something i wrote for fun for my fiance. i just posted it on tumblr because fuck it! why not! i wrote 75k words, i can share em. and i did! i didn't do it for pinpoint accuracy or a completely fleshed out, super perfect relationship.

i do also want to point out that i'm in a very secure, super cool relationship with someone whom i trust very much. i'm a pretty decent communicator and a very confident person (who still gets insecure sometimes). i guess my point in saying all of that is like, yea! i get that this story isn't the pinnacle of perfect communication, but i think it is at least somewhat realistic.

some of it is weird and whatever, sure, i'm not denying that, but to say these characters did a 180 is definitely not true. these are two people that really did completely care for one another despite not being able to properly communicate it or skating around issues or reading things in certain ways that the other did not.

setting it in their senior year of college was really important to me because like, they're not fully formed, really great communicators necessarily, they still have flaws but they also understand, to some degree, how to communicate? idk man, communication is weird and awkward and doesn't make sense sometimes.

i speak also kinda of experience too. i don't think yn was ever an avoidant person? i mean, yea, there was an element of just doing what she wanted to do without fully communicating her fears, but i mean.. that's life my guy. i don't think it's ever about courage when it comes to her. it's more about like this line of before and after? the moment of too far? a realization turned anxiety to fix something.

another thing is that this was never supposed to be a chaptered fic, but it was always going to have this conflict as the main point of conflict. which meant more developing feelings than originally planned to be honest which is great but also meant that like the conflict is a bit more jarring. BUT

i guess! i'm just happy with how the story turned out and i'm sorry that it wasn't completely realistic for you and you couldn't get into it completely! i'm proud of my story and the way that it all plays out. after all, it is just a story!

i'm never mad at people for coming into my inbox and letting me know their thoughts and stuff and this isn't an exception. though, i just will say, like, i'm not exactly sure what you wanted to completely convey with the message, perhaps? i guess intention and goal is a bit confusing to me! but!! regardless!!

my tldr of this whole thing is: i'm happy with how it turned out, it's just a silly little story, and i'm sorry that it didn't develop as you wanted/expected! /gen

[shadowetienne]

Group 4 of Mens at Japanese Nationals was a lot and I’m mostly happy about it.

Kosho Oshiyama (19)

What a way to start a group! Energy, performance, glam! He delivered a Miyavi program with everything it needed to make it (and those zebra pants) work. He was having so much fun, and was so engaged in the program, and it really sold the whole thing. Also the guts to do that choreo straight to the judges is part of what makes the program work so well. I’m rooting for him to keep getting better!

Yuto Kishina (21)

Honestly, I feel like it didn’t do him favors to skate right after Oshiyama. Him trying to sell a Jackson program just fell a little flat after the way that Oshiyama performed, and his jumps and levels were a little all over the place. I felt bad for the comparison, but I was also making it all program.

Shoma Uno (25)

He comes in here with all the pressure and all the attention, and he delivers a beautiful program! The commitment and performance every time he skates this, the way he just lives in the program and performs the hell out of it ever time. I don’t like this song inherently, but when Shoma is this intensely projecting the song, for the duration of the program, I do like it. Great 4F, still looking for that 3T at the end of the combo, but honestly, a clean 4T+2T is better than falling trying to get the 3T and he knows it. He looked so happy, and his skating quality is just in a class of its own so far.

Sumitada Moriguchi (20)

Coming from skating in pairs like 4 hours ago, to delivering a beautiful, clean program in singles is astounding, so much power to him. He sold a Queen program and made me like it. Everything here was so good. Great energy, great performance, great connection with his music. He’s a great singles skater, but I can see where he will thrive in pairs if he continues to follow that route. I’m excited for whatever he chooses to follow up on.

Sota Yamamoto (22)

Oh no the popped to a double Salchow. He didn’t let it throw him off though, and the rest of the program was brilliant. He made level 4s all through, and they were well deserved. He’s the only skater here who I feel like can fully match Shoma on intensity and connection to his music and maturity of performance. There’s something truly special about the way that he performs to this song, and I feel like there’s definitely a lot of his personal story poured out in that performance. I’m glad that his quality was rewarded despite the 10ish points lost to the 4S. We will see if he can hold on to that podium position through the rest of the SP.

Sena Miyake (20)

I still love this costume. He’s doing his best so far this season. That’s good jump moments for him, and as always, his presentation of the program is so well connected to the music and choreo. I’m very fond of his skating.

[skatingducky]

(THOMAS WEATHERALL, CIS MAN, HE/THEY) Oh, is that DECLAN “DUCKY” BIRRANI I heard they TWENTY EIGHT year old is CHARMING. But don’t let that pretty face fool you, they are also STUBBORN. Makes sense seeing how they are a CLEAN civilian who works as a SKATING INSTRUCTOR

From your earliest memory you can recall those very words. “He’s meant for greatness,” and even as a child that stuck with you. Expectation and promises of grandeur, a life full of accomplishments. The thoughts of trophies and medals, recognition, it all seemed like the sweetest of dreams. Dreams that were simply thrust onto you far when you were far too young to act defiant. You tried to be picture perfect didn’t you? Or at least that was the goal. Perfect grades, good manners, well behaved, and always supposed to be looking your best no matter how menial the circumstance. The embodiment of excellence, not a single room for error, no flaw in place.

You had to be a star no matter what, and so ever since you hit the ice, you never once stopped. It was amazing seeing you glide on your skates as if this was what you were always meant to be doing. I could tell you loved every second of it, your smile had never been that big. But no matter all the elation you felt, nothing could’ve prepared you for what came next.

It started off as little complaints, and I distinctly remember the way you would hide your pain, just pretend it was a simple discomfort and move on. Gradually it worsened, and it wasn’t until your parents noticed something was off during one of your many extra curriculars, ballet was it? A quick doctor’s visit and you were told you had scoliosis. The dreams of Olympic achievements were slowly fading before your very eyes and your fear was so crystal clear in those little blue eyes of yours.

Your adoptive parents loved you and they were the reason you worked so hard, a silly little boy with a grand dream and wishes to make them eternally proud. Then one day you were told you’d be undergoing surgery, a miracle to correct your issue and you’d be able to continue your dream. A grave mistake, but what did you know, you were nothing but a child.

A grizzly scar now kissed your back, something you always tried to hide, but at least you were back on track. For a time it was perfect, you were competing, and winning, and the pain was still there but the surgery was supposed to help, right? So why did you fall in the middle of a performance? Why did you scream out in pain, the same pain you’d been hiding because you hoped and prayed that this would all be temporary.

But it wasn’t, it was all worse, and as you sought out your parents help, they recommended you take some time, wear your back brace and just commit. So you did, and it helped, but only a little that pain was persistent, petulant even, never leaving your side just gnawing away at you, day by day by day. Nothing was helping you, and it wasn’t until you rang the doctor that had seen you all those years ago that you found out the truth. That fateful surgery was never supposed to happen, the doctor had fully advised against it, he had recommended a brace and therapy to rectify the issue over time, but your parents hubris would be your downfall. Them people in the medical field who should know better, and when you confronted them, all you could see was the guilt written all over their faces and words of how they meant well, and the fear in your eyes was what ultimately led them to go through with it.

Now you’re left with that pain, never able to achieve those bitter sweet Olympic dreams, now you’re stuck being a teacher, and while you still love being on the ice, you will always have two constant reminders of the biggest betrayal in your life. Your chronic pain, and that big scar on your back, the same one that makes it so you can’t get close to any man, the one that makes it so you’re afraid to take your shirt off, even get intimate with someone fully nude.

You’ve never had a boyfriend, your career had to come first, and if you could talk to your younger self you’d laugh in his face, tell him it was all a waste of time. So you’re angry, angrier than even, but even as angry as you are you can’t hate them, you love your parents but you hate what they did, what they put you through, but you could never hate them.

So silly little boy, gliding on the ice as if he’s being whisked away to neverland, will you ever learn to let that one boy in or are you keeping him at arms length, like all the others.

[merrock]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: Jessica Alexander

full name: Anastasia Montgomery

nickname(s) / goes by: Ana, Stassie

pronouns & gender: cis woman ; she/her

sexuality: bisexual {questioning}

birth date: july 10, 1997.

birth place: Manhattan, NYC

arrival to merrock: 2024

housing: The Coast - mansion

occupation: Olympic Figure Skater/Professional Dancer

work place:

family: Aurelia Montgomery - 54, Mother & Victor Montgomery - 50, Father

relationship status: Single

PERSONALITY

Anastasia is a force to be reckoned with; She's not afraid to speak her mind, and competition runs in her veins. If she wants something, she goes and gets it, and may no one get stuck in her path. Though she can be intense in these ways, she also has a warmth to her that draws people in. Elegant, soft, and almost whimsical - Anastasia can never truly fit in anywhere. If anything, she sticks out like a sore thumb. This aspect about her either makes her well-loved or disliked (some may write her off as pretentious or snobby), depending on the person. She loves art history due to her father being an art historian and growing up listening to all sorts of foreign fairytales and mythology. She's a hopeless romantic, but tends to self sabotage relationships. She enjoys dancing in the rain and making life cinematic at any and every opportunity. She's genuinely kind, and at the end of the day she'll make anyone laugh without knowing she's being funny. She's just drawn as a villain but has such a soft girl vibe. She's just guarded to a default due to coming from old money on her father's side and experiencing people trying to use her/them to get to the fortune.

WRITTEN BY: Ella (she/her), est.

BACKGROUND / BIO

triggering / sensitive content warning: family dysfunction

When Anastasia was born, her name was given as a path of life. Her mother having had been one of the most famous ballerinas for the Russian Ballet, it only made sense to give her daughter the name of one of the most sought-after roles for dancers. At the time, her parents had no idea just how big of a force she was going to be in the ballet realm. As others took steps, Anastasia took leaps. She was quickly the favorite in every studio she walked into, and she also managed to be the top of her class in academics as well. Even when making the switch from a public school to a prestigious performing arts school when she was in middle school, Anastasia never faltered in the changes in her life.

From Clara in The Nutcracker, to Odette and Odile in Swan Lake, her talent well proceeded her and her mother gracefully handed on the baton of the ballet legacy when she retired. Though, Anastasia loved ballet; the discipline and well as the freedom, she also began to struggle when her mother retired. It was then, that she wasn't dancing for herself anymore, but living a life her mother could live vicariously through.

At least she still had figure skating. Figure skating was something that was fully Anastasia's. Even when she was first competing, she loved the adrenaline rush that came from being on the ice. After the induction into the NYC Ballet, after touring headlining shows and juggling a social life and her figure skating, Anastasia told her mother that she wanted to pursue a higher education in mass communications. She received a full-ride scholarship (though she didn't need it) for an accelerated program in journalism and mass communications because of her GPA and outstanding SAT scores to NYU. Her father was the one who wouldn't let her pass it up.

Suddenly, Anastasia's name is plastered all over the papers when her competition broke their ankle. Now having to compete in a placement that was given to her on a technicality, Anastasia is battling the negative headlines whilst trying to clean her family name. She went to live at her family's beach house in Merrock to try to alleviate the pressure from the press.

[gofigureelectra]

NHK Trophy Ladies Event - Short Program Preview / Predictions

1. Kaori Sakamoto

2. Rinka Watanabe - I don’t think the 3A will either be fully rotated or landed with positive GOE. If both end up being true, I will eat my words.

3. Yelim Kim (even though my heart says Amber Glenn — if clean) - Yelim is known for her consistency, even after a rough event last outing, so I believe with far less pressure, she will be able to come out in the top of the group.

NHK truly is a stacked field in both singles events. We have 6 medalists from the last 4 Grand Prix events — and really it is going to be a game of cleanliness for medal placements.

4. Amber Glenn - not going for the 3A in the short means she has to skate clean to compete with this field, and she is sadly not always one to do well under pressure. Or skate 2 clean programs for that matter; however Skate America was a breakthrough moment that hopefully will allow her to continue building momentum.

5. Rion Sumiyoshi

6. Audrey Shin - this will really be a matter of her not popping any jumps, because when she skates clean and retains her BV she can really compete with this group.

7. Seoyeong Wi

8. Niina Petrokina - if anyone who doesn’t already have a gp medal can skate clean and get into the top 6 in the short program, it will be her. I have not stopped thinking about her short program since Skate Canada (?).

9. Starr Andrews - please prove me wrong Starr 🙏🏻 I love her, and especially after her breakthrough moment with her 🥈, I really hope she can continue to skate clean and grow her confidence. However, her BV and consistency is not at the same caliber as the rest of this field.

10. Seoyeon Ji

11. Eva Lotte Kiibus - this will truly be a preview of Estonian nationals, as this will be the first major international event which these two will compete. The two of them used to be fairly evenly matched, however Eva’s BV is lower than Niina’s, and she has not had a fairly consistent season, so this will be a true test for her.

12. Olga Mikutina

Overall with this field, from 1st-12th it Will really be a battle of BV vs cleanliness, but it will truly be an event to watch the new generation of ladies figure skating flourish.

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Fire and Ice Day for @nessianweek Yes, I just wanted an excuse to write more hockey player Cassian. No, I will not be taking criticisms at this time. Follow up to this drabble. Hope you enjoy! :) 

Nesta steps out of the English building, taking in a deep breath of the crisp, winter air. The lecture hall had been stifling, and the way Professor Matthews had droned on and on about Chekhov had her desperate for the class to end. She cuts across the Commons, heading toward the library, when she hears heavy footsteps fall in beside her. She doesn't need to look to know who they belong to. 

"So about that dinner," Cassian starts. 

"I don't actually recall agreeing to it." 

"Well, how else am I supposed to thank you for being there in my time of concussion need?" 

"You don't need to thank me. Maybe I was just hoping to see if a good thwack to your head would finally fix it. Clearly, it didn't." 

"Sadly, all it did was make my two working brain cells become just one," Cassian says, putting on his best solemn tone. 

The comment pulls a surprised laugh out of Nesta, and when she turns her head to look at Cassian, his smile is wide and his eyes are bright. She swears she can almost see pride swimming in those flecks of gold that make up his hazel eyes. 

"So what time should I pick you up?" 

Nesta doesn't respond. She merely rolls her eyes with a scoff and continues toward the library. That is until Cassian uses his long strides to step in front of her, effectively cutting her path off. 

"What do you have to lose?"

"My sanity?" 

"So 6:00 then?" 

Nesta takes a moment to take Cassian in. He still has that cocky grin that never seems to leave splashed across his face. But she doesn't miss the way he fidgets, running a hand through his tangle of dark curls, nor does she miss the nervous pinch around his eyes. She supposes she could go for a good meal, and while Cassian most definitely gets under her skin, he's not the worst company. 

"I have to meet with my group for our psychology project. 7:00?" 

"Deal." 

The smile on Cassian's face pulls even wider, and Nesta's pretty sure the only thing keeping him from actually cheering is the way he clenches his fists at his side. It's endearing, and Nesta bites the inside of her cheek to keep her own smile tampered down. 

"Well, see you then," Nesta says, starting back toward her original destination of the library. 

"Wear something nice, yeah?" Cassian calls after her. 

Nesta flips him off over her shoulder at the comment, and Cassian's booming laughter follows her all the way across the Commons. 

Luckily, meeting with the students in her group project isn't too migraine inducing. They divvy up the work and all agree on who will take which slides. When she makes it back to her dorm, she pulls a black dress out and gets started on her makeup. 

At 7:00 on the dot, there's a knock at her door. She quickly slips on her heels before pulling it open, Cassian waiting on the other side. The way that Cassian's mouth drops open and the awed way he whispers, "holy shit," has a blush creeping in and settling on Nesta's cheeks. 

"You clean up nice," she notes. 

And he does. Cassian has on a button down, the sleeves rolled up slightly, the tanned skin of his forearms and the ink that swirls against it on full display. Both the shirt and the black slacks he's wearing are form fitting, showing off the athletic cut to his body, years of skating having done wonders for honing the muscles. And while Cassian's dark curls are loose against his shoulders, Nesta can tell he's put product in it. 

Nesta waits for Cassian to make some sort of quip back after her comment, maybe for him to even comment on her, but he just continues to stare like he can't believe she's actually real. She tries not to focus on the fact that look has her heart beating double time in her chest, or the fact that warmth settles through her whole body. Instead, Nesta just rolls her eyes and steps fully into the hall, closing her door behind her. The sound seems to jolt Cassian back to reality, who blinks hard before his eyes focus properly on Nesta's own. 

"Wait," he says. "Bring your skates."

"My skates?" Nesta asks confusedly. "I thought we were going to dinner?"

"We are, but bring them."

"Why?"

"Just bring them." 

Nesta sighs, clearly not getting a straight answer out of him. But she heads back inside, stuffing a heavy pair of socks into her skates. She steps into the hall, skates in hand, and raises a pointed eyebrow as if to ask, 'happy?' Cassian's just answers with a wide grin. 

Cassian leads Nesta down to his truck, and she's surprised when he drives them to one of the higher end chophouses downtown. Dinner is good and the conversation flows easily between them. Cassian even asks Nesta about her current book and actually looks genuinely interested as she explains it. Although, his smirk is infuriating as she tries to subtly skip over the more… scandalous parts. 

After dinner, they clamber back into Cassian's truck, and Nesta's brow pinches in confusion as they pull into the rink parking lot. This explains the skate request. When Nesta looks over at Cassian, his eyes are already on her. Under the yellow glow of the parking lot lights, his eyes look extra golden, but Nesta doesn't miss the mischievous glint swimming in them. 

"I'm not exactly dressed for skating," Nesta points out, glancing down at her dress as if to prove her point. 

"Says who?"

"I'm serious." 

Rather than respond, Cassian just reaches back into the backseat of his truck, producing one of the hockey team sweatshirts, which he holds out toward Nesta. Nesta hesitates for only a moment before she's pulling it on over her dress. It's clearly too big on her, but the fabric is soft and the scent of fabric softener and Cassian fills her senses. 

When they get inside, the Friday night public skate is still in full swing, families and awkward high school dates milling about on the ice and in the lobby. In their attire, Nesta is sure that she and Cassian must stick out like sore thumbs. They walk up to the reception desk, and Nesta expects Cassian to ask for two passes for the public skate, but instead he and the rink staffer share a pointed look and then a key is being slid inconspicuously into Cassian's hand. Before Nesta can even start to ask what that means, Cassian is grabbing her hand, pulling her down the hall, past the locker rooms and snack bar. His eyes quickly dart around before he slides the key into the right side of the double doors, tugging Nesta inside and flipping on the lights. 

"The tiny-ass practice rink?" Nesta asks, looking around.

"Bal owes me a favor," Cassian explains, pocketing the key. 

Cassian grabs Nesta's hand again and leads her around to the benches. They each take their time trading their shoes for skates before stepping out onto the ice. 

There's something about the way ice feels under her feet that calms Nesta in a way nothing else can. The cutting sound of her skates against it is like music to her ears. She glides easily to center ice, taking a deep breath and letting the cold welcome her into its embrace. She feels Cassian's presence behind her, warm hands settling on her hips. 

"You know you look better in this sweatshirt than I ever did," he says, voice pitched low. 

"Sounds like a personal problem," Nesta counters, turning around to face Cassian. "It's not my fault even hockey things look better on figure skaters." 

"Big words coming from someone who needs a toe pick to stop."

"That's not what a toe pick is for." 

"How about a race then? To settle things." 

"Fine." 

They both skate over to the goal line, getting into their starting positions. Cassian counts them in with a ‘ready, set, go,’ and then they’re off, sprinting down the ice. Nesta’s hair whips past her face, the cool rink air rushing along her cheeks, as she pushes her legs to go faster and faster still. Cassian crosses the other goal line first, an icy spray flying up as he stops hard before the boards. Nesta stops beside him, crossing her arms as she takes in his wide smirk. 

"You totally cheated."

"What? I did not."

"You have longer legs. It's an unfair advantage."

"Sounds like excuses to me. Just admit it. Hockey players are better."

"Are they? Could a hockey player do this?" 

Nesta pushes off the boards and settles easily into her stride. A swing of her leg and a push of her foot and she's up in the air, pulling her arms in tight as she twists and twists around. Her feet land back on the ice and she glides out of the move gracefully. When her eyes land back on Cassian, his own are wide and awed as he watches her. But then his eyes narrow, arms crossing over his chest. 

“Who’s cheating now?” 

“Fine. Something simple then.” 

Nesta jumps and does a single twist, holding her arms out when she lands and raising an eyebrow toward Cassian in challenge. His eyes stay narrowed on her, but he pushes off the boards, settling into a stride toward center ice. 

“How hard can it be,” Cassian mutters. 

Cassian skates a few circles, clearly trying to walk himself through the move, trying to hype himself up. Nesta has to bite the inside of her cheek while she waits. After a few moments, he throws himself into the air, spinning around once. His skates land back on the ice, and for a moment, Nesta is about to be impressed, but then his left foot is slipping out from under him. He falls ass-first onto the ice with a loud ‘oof.’ 

Nesta can’t help the loud laugh that tears its way out of her chest. She tries to press a hand to her mouth to stifle it, but her whole body shakes with it. When she finally calms down and finds Cassian's stare again, his face is marred with an unimpressed frown. 

“I’m so glad my pain brings you joy,” Cassian says sarcastically before holding his arms up toward her. “Aren’t you going to help me up?” 

“No.” 

Nesta realizes she’s made a mistake. A slow smirk slides across Cassian’s face and even from across the rink, there’s no missing the mischievous glint in his eyes. Before Nesta can even blink, Cassian is on his feet and charging toward her across the ice. The rink is small with nowhere to go, so soon Nesta finds herself cornered back against the boards, Cassian’s arms bracketing her in on either side. 

Cassian opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but it gets lost along the way, and instead he just stares. This close up, Nesta can see the greens hidden in his hazel eyes, the way they flicker under the rink lights. Cassian’s eyes drop down to her lips before settling back on her eyes, and Nesta’s heart does a little flip in her chest. 

"Can I kiss you?"

"What if I say no?"

Cassian leans in closer, and Nesta can feel his warm breath ghosting over her lips, is sure that he can feel the way the breath hitches in her throat. 

"Say no, then," Cassian whispers. 

The silence hangs between them for only a second before Cassian closes the distance, pressing his lips to Nesta’s. Nesta practically melts into it, pressing closer as their lips slot and slide against one another. One of Cassian’s hands comes up to bracket her jaw, his other arm wrapping securely around her waist. She can feel the way he sighs against her lips, the deep groan in his chest as the kiss deepens. 

"Hey, why are the lights on back here?" 

They break apart at the sudden voice, Cassian taking Nesta’s hand and tugging her down so they’re hidden behind the boards and out of sight. They can hear the footsteps of the rink staffer walking around, and Nesta turns to glare at Cassian. 

"I swear, if we end up arrested because of you…"

"Don't worry. I'd never let that happen. We're both too pretty for jail."

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

Alright… challenge time :p (Not seriously You can slay anything)

Rigger Sadist Cassandra having fun with her rope bunny pet in a dungeon/ Play room setting.

Can be smutty, humorous or fluffy.

Combined with: Smut with Cassandra and a masochist maiden? A maiden who risks their life to get punished by a certain ravenous daughter?*Slight daddy kink added for a follower on Ao3*

***

Sorry it took me so long to get some you guys some content for our beloved Cass 🥺 But I hope you all like it 😏 I know I had a lot of fun writing it 🤤

***

Chilled brick against slightly bruised skin. A dull ache to your knees as you shifted from one leg to the other. You could only wonder how long she had had you there. The dense darkness of the castle dungeons - the infinite night - allowing no such time to make its way known. The faint sound of water dripping onto aged mortar as a fierce rain blew around the castle walls. Even in the blackened air between you, Cassandra’s eyes still beamed through like a beacon - a warning - a promise of everything that was coming to you. 

“I swear, morsel.. You get prettier with each passing minute that you spend on those knees of yours.”

The immaculate smirk that curled across her lips would have immediately made you drip, if you weren’t already doing so. The black rope that she had meticulously wrapped around your soft flesh firm against you as she began to circle like the prey that you were. You had known all too well that out of all of the sisters, Cassandra was the most sadistic - a trait that had scared most of the servants in the castle - but for some reason, it only seemed to excite you more. 

“A-ah.. thank you, miss.”

A desperate needy tone coated your words in the most delicious of ways. How badly you longed for her to touch you - for her to claim you. You had seen the marks she had left on others, spreading a deep heat every time your eyes had laid upon them - and when the stunning brunette told you to meet her in the dungeons after your daily work was finished, it was all you could do not to sprint your way down those steps as fast as you could. 

“I can smell how badly you want this, morsel.” 

She chuckled before you could even respond, kneeling down to look you in the eyes. A most sadistic smile painted across her perfect lips, and you couldn’t help but whimper as she grabbed you firmly by your chin and forced you to your feet. Pulling roughly on your restraints before slowly leading you back against the castle wall. The sound of metal against brick cutting through the air as she tied the ropes that bound you to the chain that adorned it - sufficiently pinning your hands to the cooled brick above you. An exquisite pain radiating throughout your body as she pulled on the restraints even harder, forcing you to cry out for her.

“Heh.. moaning for me already?” 

“Mmph… yes, miss.. ah-!” 

She chuckled again before allowing her tongue to trace over the small bite she had just gifted you, using the length of her frame to lean you further back against the wall.

“I’ve seen the way you look at my handy work, morsel. How that desperate blush spreads across those cheeks as your eyes fall from one mark to another.” 

“Y-yes, miss.” 

“One would think that you liked the prospect of me claiming you. That you long to feel my teeth deep within that soft flesh of yours.”  

You whimpered again as she wrapped her long fingers into your hair, tugging on it firmly - exposing the length of your neck to her. Every cell in your body set a blaze as the indulgent pain spread swiftly over you. You swallowed hard before answering. 

“O-one would think that, miss… because I do…” 

“Oh, I know.”

A single glance of a warning before her teeth were on you again. A deeper bite to crook of your neck, just short of breaking the skin. A sharp inhale dancing across your slightly parted lips as she bit you again, this time just a little lower. Oh, how you pulled against your restraints - longing to wrap your fingers in her hair - to pull her closer to you. Her cooled breath against your skin as she chuckled again - the sweet heat as her teeth sank in a little deeper, earning brilliant drops of crimson to seep across your flushed skin. The slightest of growls reverberating deep within her throat as she licked over them - tasting you. 

“If you’d like a safeword, now would be the time to choose it. There’s no guarantee I’ll be able to control myself otherwise.” 

“Ah-! No… no… just fucking devour me. Please.”

At the utter and desperate tone to your pleads - the absolute primality that radiated throughout the small space of the dungeons as a deep and unyielding growl forced itself from Cassandra’s body. The sheer force of her slamming you back against the wall as her teeth sank deeply into your flushed skin - harder - rougher. Sharp nails finding the soft flesh of your thighs as you felt the warmth of her tongue skate over the deep teeth marks that began to deliciously decorate your body. Moaning slightly as you felt her drink from you. 

“M-more… please.”

She growled again, eyes sharp as she pulled herself from your eager body. 

“It would do you well to be careful what you wish for when I am in such a state, morsel.”

You said it again without a second thought. “More” 

You could feel the cool air of the dungeons begin to spin around you as her teeth found you again. Each mark more delicious than the last as she utterly claimed you. A deep heat spilling over you as she pulled on your restraints yet again, tightening the rope that had bound your body even more. The multitude of sensations almost overwhelming - all encompassing - the only break from the relentless heat that threatened to overtake you being the cool air dancing off of the trickles of crimson that began to drip their way down your overly flushed skin. 

“Mmh.. I can smell how wet you are.” 

She purred the words into your skin before biting it harder than she had all night, forcing an immediate yelp from your lips.

“Mmph.. Cassandra… please.”

As soon as her name left your lips, you knew you had fucked up. The strength of her hand coming swiftly around your neck, firmly squeezing it. 

“Careful, there. Wouldn’t want to ruin the good time we’re having with such slip ups.” 

The embers in her eyes almost black, on the verge of absolute darkness as she looked you over. The thick metallic scent of your blood on her lips as she squeezed a little harder - causing sparks behind your eyes before swiftly letting go. 

“Ah.. y-yes, miss.. sorry…” 

"There are very few things I tolerate being called down here, maiden.”

The sharp undertones to her voice - the change in petname - swiftly reminding you of exactly who you were dealing with - filling your body with a deep, unyielding heat. You had heard a few of those things screamed out into the castle walls on some of your loneliest nights - with nothing more than the warmth of your hands to keep you company, you couldn’t help but imagine what Cassandra could possibly be doing to induce such delicious sounds. Sometimes they were screamed in pleasure.. others in pain. But there was always one that made you wetter than the rest when you heard it. 

“Daddy.” You half whimpered - breathy, and desperate - eyes half lidded as they locked onto hers. 

The sound that forced itself past Cassandra’s lips was guttural - primal - a growl so thunderous that it rivaled the storm that waged around the castle walls. So deep that you felt it in your knees - in your core - in your inner and utter being. The length of her body firmly against you as she forced you back against the wall once again. Eyes of absolute darkness as she breathed over you - taking in your scent. A single sweep of her tongue before her teeth were relentlessly back on you. Hot, and uncompromising - causing a fevershing heat to spill rapidly across your body. The sharpness of her teeth swiftly finding any unmarked flesh that you had left to offer. 

You gasped as her fingers traced over your thighs, nails digging in. The warmth of her mouth exploring over the rest of you as she fully, and wholly claimed you as her own. Sending the castle walls around you spinning as her fingers ghosted over your core. Forcing a desperately needy whimper to escape from your lips. You knew you were dripping for her - and you knew she could smell your sweet musk every time she made you squirm. 

“Such a tasty morsel you turned out to be.” She murmured the unexpected praise against your flushed skin, earning a swift blush to spill across your body. “How badly you must want me to touch you.”

“You... you are touching me, miss.”

You closed your eyes in preparation for the consequences that would normally follow such a quip, only to feel Cassandra’s breath cool against you as she chuckled - forcing  you to open your eyes. Golden spheres rising slowly through darkness when her eyes found yours. An utterly devious smirk to her lips as her fingers came firm around your chin. 

“Heh… very tasty, indeed.”

You swallowed hard, not daring to say another word as her eyes watched you carefully. A]look to her face that made you wonder if she were trying to decide whether she wanted to eat you or… kiss you. You were, obviously, hoping for the latter.

Her sweet scent rolling over you as she leaned in a little closer - tightening the grip on your chin while her tongue swept deliciously over the width of her mouth, cleaning the last bit of crimson from her soft skin.

“Well, morsel… looks like you’ve chosen the ‘no release’ option with your meal.” 

She chuckled at her own joke - a glimpse of a smirk across her lips before the sharp exquisite sting of her teeth found you again. A deep moan as she slid the length of two fingers deep into you - fast and merciless inside you. And oh, how she kept true to her word. Edging you relentlessly long into the midnight hours - until your exquisitely desperate juices had sufficiently soaked the chilled mortar below you. 

Xx

[spencerreidsmiles]

Skater Boy Spencer Reid

Written by: spencerreidsmiles

Howdy, howdy! I am very slowly going through my remaining requests. This request was for prompts 38, 41, and 47 on the fluff prompt list here. You’ll see them bolded throughout the story!

Also, a short side note that I have no idea how to skateboard at all! This is solely based off my intensive research (/s) on how to skateboard, so if this isn’t accurate, I’m sorry!

Summary - The reader teaches Spencer how to skateboard.

Content Warnings - blood, minor injury, light teasing

Word Count - 1737

MASTERLIST // WATTPAD VERSION

“Skateboarding? Of all things you could’ve chosen, skateboarding?”

“Oh come on, Spencer, you never know, you might be good at it,” you replied, yanking at his shirt sleeve. 

Spencer glanced at you with a slightly withering glare. It was a look you were very familiar with; if there was one thing you enjoyed more than anything else in the world, it was teasing Spencer. It was just so easy to tease him, so why wouldn’t you?

But amidst all the teasing about the skateboarding, there was a part of you that knew Spencer Reid would make an excellent skater boy. 

You leaned closer to Spencer, looking up with the biggest puppy eyes you could muster and a big pout. 

“Remember when I saved your ass? You owe me, Spencer,” you said, emphasizing each word with a poke to his chest. “You said you would do whatever I wanted.”

Spencer glanced away with a pout. “Fine, whatever you like.” 

“Hm, I knew you would say that.” You grinned with satisfaction and squeezed his cheeks. “I’ll see you at the skate park tomorrow! Don’t forget your knee pads!” 

Spencer did not, in fact, forget his knee pads. (Not that forgetting things was something Spencer usually did.) And even though you had told him to bring his knee pads, you couldn’t help but laugh when you saw him walk - no, waddle - up in matching purple knee pads, elbow pads, and a helmet. He looked long and gangly and awkward in his gear with his usual converse and for once, a tee shirt and shorts. You hadn’t ever seen him in any of these clothes before but you had to admit, you definitely weren’t disliking it. 

“You look really good. Color coordinated too,” you said with a big smile as you knocked the side of his helmet with your knuckles. 

“You like it?” Spencer beamed. He did a little spin, the clasps of his helmet twirling around. 

“It’s perfect for you. Honest.” You kicked up your spare board, catching the top. “But let’s get down to business. I’m going to make you a skater boy by the end of the day, Spencer Reid. That is a promise.”

You handed the board over to Spencer. It was old and scraped up from years of use and many, many wipeouts. When you’d first bought it years ago, it was red and shiny, but now the red had faded away, leaving only a wooden board with strips of red remaining. The wheels were still functional, if a bit wonky, but perfect for learning on. 

For someone who claimed to have absolutely zero athletic ability, Spencer was quite good at skateboarding. Well, to be fair, he hadn’t actually started skateboarding for real yet. You started him off by placing a single foot onto the board with the other still fully intact with the ground, but it was a start. He got a feel for what it felt like to bend his knees and push his weight around to move the board. But now he had to put both feet on the board and actually skateboard.

“Y/N, look! I’m doing it!” Spencer said as he hopped around on one leg while scooting with his other on the board. 

You couldn’t help but smile. The childlike glee Spencer was exuding could make anyone smile. He carted himself around the perimeter of the skate park as you trailed behind him, keeping a careful eye on him. 

“Alright, Spencer. Well here comes the hard part. Give me your hands, you’re going to put both feet on the board now.” 

Instantly, Spencer’s smile was replaced with a worried expression. He put his foot down on the ground and paused in front of you. 

“What?” he asked. You brushed aside some of Spencer’s hair that had escaped his helmet, accidentally brushing his cheek as well. Shivers tickled your spine and unfamiliar goosebumps covered your body. 

“Hey, I got you. Trust me, okay?” you said.

“Okay.” Spencer nodded and placed his hands in yours. 

“Now push off with your right foot, then put it back on the board, and I’ll pull you, got it?” you directed. 

With a silent gulp, Spencer did as you said. He bent his knees and pushed off with his right foot before placing it back on his board. You started walking backwards and pulled Spencer forward. Slowly, you started walking back faster and faster until you had started to jog. 

“Spencer, you’re doing it! You’re doing it!” you exclaimed. 

Without saying another word, you let go of Spencer’s hands. And for a minute, he was actually doing it, actually skating around with both feet firmly planted onto the board and arms spread out like wings. You were so busy admiring him you didn’t even notice that he had begun to lose balance and wobble.

“Y/N! How do I stop!” he shouted, reaching his hands out for you.

“Oh shoot! Hold on!” 

You started running back towards him, but you were too late. Spencer had already leaned too far ahead. He started making circles with his hands, flapping around in an attempt to keep his balance. Just as you grabbed his hands, the board kicked out from under him and both of you fell flat onto the asphalt. 

You had your eyes closed while you were falling, so when you opened them to find Spencer’s face only a couple inches above yours and his body on top of yours, you nearly screamed. You had never been this close to Spencer in your entire life. Surely if he was this close, he could hear your heart beating out of your chest, no? You were breathless but you weren’t quite sure if it was because you were being squished by Spencer or because of how close you were to him. 

Spencer, however, was completely frozen. His hands were placed right beside your head and he was staring, just staring, straight at you. His caramel curls hovered right above your face, blowing gently from the wind. 

“Hi,” you said breathlessly. 

“Are you okay?” he whispered. 

“I’ll be honest, you are crushing me right now.” 

“Oh, sorry!” Spencer rolled off of you, landing on his butt, cross-legged on the ground. You wriggled yourself up and watched as Spencer dusted himself off. 

When you finally made eye contact, you couldn’t help but start laughing. You were just replaying the image of Spencer slipping over and over again. It was incredible. 

“That was the most ridiculous fall I’ve ever seen, Spencer, my god.” 

You leaned back, holding your stomach as you laughed. Just before you fell over completely again, Spencer caught your hand. From that single touch, electricity shot from your fingertips into the rest of your body. The sensation nearly scared you for how good it felt, how alive it made you feel. Touching Spencer felt like you were skating without even getting on a board. You never wanted to let go. 

But Spencer did. He pulled back, forehead scrunching as he winced. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. But then you saw it, his poor hands all torn up from the fall. They were rubbed raw with speckles of red dotting his palms. “Oh my gosh, Spencer, your hands!” 

“I’m fine,” he said. He looked at his own palms, flexing it, moving it around.

“No, come here, at least let me clean it,” you said as you stood up. “Come on, I have a first aid kit in my bag.”

You led Spencer to a bench with all of your things. As you cleaned his palms, wiping them with antiseptic wipes and bandaging them, you could feel Spencer’s eyes watching you. 

After years of working for the FBI, going on case after case for years, Spencer’s hands were rough and calloused. There were scars, too many for you or him to remember where and when they came from now, blending in with the creases of his hands. But still, they were comforting, familiar.

“One more try, okay? I believe in you. No more wipeouts.” You finished bandaging his hands with a gentle pat. Spencer pretended to pout, giving you a half-meaning glare. 

“Oh come on, you’re okay. Do you need a kiss to make it better?” you teased. 

“What?” Spencer’s face flushed. 

“I’m kidding.” You pushed his shoulder lightly all whilst thinking that for the first time (or at least the first time you had truly acknowledged it) you weren’t really joking at all. “Now come on, one more try.”

Spencer was more hesitant this time, but he reached for your hands again. He placed one foot on the board, already beginning to wobble. Come on, Spencer, you can do it, you thought to yourself. He glanced at you as he took a deep breath. 

And he did. Spencer soared around the whole park. He was like a natural as he swerved around with outstretched arms. The sound of the wheels sliding against the pavement surrounded you as Spencer removed his back foot from the board and stopped without flying off the board right in front of you. 

“You did it, Spencer!” You ran up to Spencer and enveloped him in a massive hug. 

Spencer returned your hug, throwing his arms around you tightly. His knee pads knocked against your legs as he pulled you closer to him. He smelt of coffee and baby powder under the sweat and dirt and twinge of blood that lingered in the air. As you stayed there wrapped up in his arms, you wondered if it was possible to stay here forever in the comfort you never knew was so close. 

The two of you finally decided to leave when the sun started to beat down on your backs. While Spencer was prepared for almost everything, apparently the two things he hadn’t thought about were guard gloves and sunscreen. Spencer grabbed the board, resting it comfortably under his arm. 

As you went to get your bag, Spencer tapped your shoulder and spoke. “So uh, can we do this again next week?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I would love that, Spencer. And who knows, you might be better than me soon.”

Spencer looked down with a growing smile on his face. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” you said, fearlessly grabbing Spencer’s hand.

You walked away with satisfaction, thinking to yourself only one thing; you were right, Spencer Reid did make an excellent skater boy.

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