#often he's just trying to be funny (lighten the mood) or be a little shit for giggles (aka be a kid)

[homeless202]

i like the thought process Eunyung had here:

he's accused of doing sth and knows that denying it won't change the accuser's mind once it's been set.

he doesn't even try arguing bc he knows it'd be a waste of time. he just says 'yeah, you're right. and what about it?' (<- agreeing with someone is typically a good strategy to keep the peace, bc people like hearing they're right, but it doesn't always work. and in this case, keeping the peace was not the intention anyway)

-----

he wanted to stir up shit. get a rise out of HJ. spite him. unfortunately, however, EY failed to consider any non-confrontational responses:

he did not expect that...

...at all. and immediately regretted saying it when he saw HJ's reaction.

then he wanted to help. he clearly had the intention to talk to him:

but ultimately decided against it. probably bc he knew there was nothing he could say at that moment to make things better. scared that no matter what he'd do, it would only make the situation worse. he didn't want to start another fight and get hit.

so he just left.

[rogueddie]

Helpless T | 497 words Prompt for steddielovemonth: Love is watching them do the stupidest things and falling harder for them every time

Steve Harrington is smart.

It's a fact, something that Eddie is entirely unwilling to move an inch on. He knows Steve is smart, far smarter than he realizes himself, and especially smarter than any of the kids give him credit for.

But, quickly, he learns not to defend Steve on his intelligence. He quickly notices how often Steve uses their assumptions.

Sometimes he'll use their assumptions to get away with shit.

Usually he uses it to play the fool, playing a little into slapstick to make the group laugh. It's so easy for him to lighten the mood, knowing exactly what each person finds especially funny.

For some reason, when it's just him and Eddie, he doesn't play into the idiot role. He's calmer, relaxed... comfortable.

"One time I got Dustin to snort," Steve says, brushing past Eddie questions. "I've been trying to get him to do it again ever since. You shoulda seen his face. Priceless."

That was a day that Eddie tries his hardest to forget though.

He'd been so distracted when Steve lifted his shirt by the hem to wipe at his face that he'd walked straight into the sliding glass doors that lead to his backyard.

Steve had rushed over, panicked, and fussed over him, despite Eddie's mumbles assurance that he was fine.

"I've done it before," Steve says, patting him on the shoulder. "It's an easy mistake to make. But there's a trick, look, here, watch. This bit, here, is only visible when the door is open."

Other than filing the fact away, Eddie didn't think anything about that specific detail.

It wasn't until, two weeks later, when the kids were arguing over something small and starting to get heated that-

Steve walks straight into the glass door, bouncing off with a comical 'thump'.

The kids are immediately distracted from their argument, Max loudly cackling, Dustin yelling his teasing comments over the burst of noise.

"Hey, come on, how was I supposed to know?" Steve complains, rubbing at his head. "It's glass, man, you can't see it!"

"Oh my god," Mike groans, rolling his eyes. "It's so obvious!"

"Alright, genius, just because you've apparently got it all figured out-" Steve taunts, hands on hips.

"You don't have to be a genius, you just need eyes!"

"Not even," Max adds. "I can get through it fine."

Eddies attention is locked on Steve, who's defences only get progressively worse.

But, when he catches Eddie's eye, he shifts a little. Like he knows he's been caught, like he knows the gig is up.

He holds a finger to his lips for a moment, winking, before turning back to the kids.

"Colored glass doesn't really count as glass though, right? That's visible. Glass isn't."

Eddie shakes his head, biting back a laugh at how much louder the kids get.

He sends Steve a subtle thumbs up when he glances over again, resolutely ignoring the butterflies wiring around his stomach when Steve grins back, wide, eyes crinkling.

[wilcze-kudly]

The tragedy of Avatar's "Funny Guys"

So... Sokka and Bolin are both "the funny guy" of their respective group, we can all agree on this. Now comic relief characters aren't rare in media and often they exist purely to be said comic relief, with little nuance or storyline of their own.

But Avatar strays from this rule by giving their comedic relief characters a lot of depth.

Both Sokka and Bolin have been through some awful stuff. They've dealt with loss and plenty of adversity.

Sokka lost his mother as a child. After that, his father left for a war, basically leaving Sokka to care for his sister and village. And, to his credit, Sokka took his duties very seriously. You can see how protective he is of Katara and the members of his tribe, trying to defend them even when he's clearly outnumbered and outmatched. This also bled through into his role within the Gaang, where he acts as provider, strategist and organiser.

As for Bolin, he was orphaned as a small child, forced to live at least 10 years homeless. His horrific childhood trauma leads to him lacking a lot in social skills and confidence. And throughout the show he is manipulated, used and, quite frankly, abused multiple times.

But we already knew that, right?

We've seen them in their respective shows and we've heard their backstories explained to us. They share most of their backgrounds with their siblings, so it's not a leap in logic to say that they most likely have similar trauma.

So, why is that their "angst" isn't taken as seriously as, say, Katara's and Mako's?

I'd the main reason really is the fact that they are meant to lighten the mood.

This is unlike Katara and Mako, whose roles allow them to express their grief and pain more freely, the creators going so far as to incorporate symbols of their trauma into their designs.

Katara and Mako's actions are often more easily related to their trauma. Because their characters are more obviously tied to their trauma.

We, for example can understand Katara stealing a waterbending scroll and relate it to her need to connect with her almost completely destroyed culture. We can see Mako have difficulties connecting with people and recognise that this is most likely due to his troubled past.

Sokka and Bolin are more... tricky. We don't always think about the in world reasoning of their characters. Often, we just assume that they're doing something to be funny.

We see Sokka insisting to be the leader as: haha, funny bossy guy. Instead of: damn, this kid has been conditioned to take so much responsibility for the safety and well-being of others.

We see Bolin bending over backwards to please Eska as: oh, that Bolin, such a silly guy. Instead of: oh, shit this teenager spent his entire life as a dependent to his brother so his decisionmaking skills and backbone are probably extremely stunted.

This isn't helped by the fact that these character's pain, distress, grief and sadness are often played for laughs. And yeah, often the scene is funny. But that doesn't negate the character's in-world suffering.

I think this is what occasionally can be quite upsetting to me when people don't take this character seriously because they're "only meant to be there for the comedy". Maybe with a more straightforward show, I'd take that answer, but Avatar leaves us these pretty obvious breadcrumbs.

Avatar is a pretty well crafted show, in the end and most of the main cast have their nuances and storylines that raise them above the tropes they're meant to represent.

PS: This is not to say that Sokka and Katara have the same trauma, nor that Mako and Bolin have the same trauma. Both pairs of siblings took up different roles in their respective dynamics.

For example, Sokka visibly takes up the role as defender, provider and planner, wheras Katara deals with the more domestic tasks (yay sexism). This shows in how their trauma manifests in dufferent ways. Sokka's need to prove himself vs Katara's frustration at her percieved "role" in society.

Mako and Bolin's past is more nebulous, but I would argue Bolin still played an important role in his and Mako's lives. Bolin is cheerful and bubbly, almost by design. It wouldn't be a leap in logic to assume that a bit of that cheer may be fabricated in order to keep going. Bolin's lack of personal growth due to being Mako's dependent is also a symptom of his trauma.

It also bears to mention that these character's competence is also often downplayed due to the humorous ways in which they fail. Sokka planned an invasion on an entire nation that would've succeeded had it not been for Azula gaining insider information. He invented submarines. While Bolin is one of the most efficient and powerful earthbenders combatwise (I'm tired of pretending he's a mid bender the only thing stopping my man from commiting mass murder is his heart of gold). They are not just haha funny idiots. Put some respect on their names.

Ok I'm done stating the obvious now.

[smollangrycat]

Ikran, Pt 4

(Avatar: WOW Oc)

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4

Quick Note - FINAL CHAPTER! Hi, thank you to everybody who has been enjoy this fic it has ment the world to me to see that you guys are enjoying my story’s. So here we are part 4 - 9,205 words later. I hope you guys have enjoyed reading this as I have really loved writing it 😁🥹🥰

Summary

(Pre Avatar: WOW) When 12 year old Alue’k is told by her parents that they don’t feel she’s ready for her Iknimaya she feels the need to prove them wrong … in a rather stupid way.

Warnings

Slight gore/mention of injury

Language

Mention of premature birth/ difficult brith (There is a TW so u can skip that part it’s not essential)

If you think anything else needs to be added leave a comment. 

——————————————

Alue’k basked in the warmth of her brothers hug, just enjoying the comfort and company.

Lo’ak smiled, he remembered so clearly how a younger Alue’k would claim hugs can make anything better and she would rather eat Ikran shit than admit otherwise.

Eh, what can you aspect from a girl that a carbon copy of her (extremely stubborn) father. 

The moment was quickly disturbed as the sound of an Ikran landing caught their attention. A figure dismounted the Ikran and made his way over to the group. As he grew closer a knot started to twist itself in Alue’k stomach as her grip grew a little tighter on her brothers.

It was their father. 

Lo’ak and Neteyam shared a concerned look, which wasn’t helping with Alue’ks growing worry at all.

The man in question all but charged at his children but at a calm pace trying to keep some level of composure. 

It wasn’t working very well.

Once Jake had reached his children he stood tall, towering over them. Alue’k stared at her feet worrying on her bottom lip and wringing her hands, she could practically feel her father burning gaze on her.

She swallowed the lump in her throat as she nervously let go of Neteyam and Lo’ak. Slightly lifting her head to give them a small smile showing that’s she would be ok … probably.

Both boys have small reassuring smiles before turning to face their father. Neteyam stood tall matching Jakes posture while Lo’ak stood slightly slouched looking more comfortable but the way his tail flickered in agitation and worry betrayed his facade.

Neteyam met his fathers gaze Jakes eyes were strong and determined but right now they seemed dazed and … tired. 

Who wouldn’t be? He’s been up for hours searching for his little girl who has a history of reckless behaviour. For all Jake knew his baby could have been laying broken and dead at the bottom of the floating mountains. 

Neteyam tried to ease his dads worries, he always looked out for his siblings, making sure they were safe. However Alue’k was … different. She didn’t back down, wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to prove her worth … which normally lead to her doing something stupid.

Even if she never had to, she struggled to see her worth. Her size and stature often acting as a  hindrance to her … adventurous activities.

 her entire family valued her they couldn’t imagine a life without her. Neteyam couldn’t understand how someone who is loved by others so much could feel so … alone.

He can’t even imagine what life would be like without his baby sister who’s always trying to make others laugh and smile. He can’t imagine what life would be like without any of his siblings but again Alue’k is just … different. 

Who would make there dad laugh, lighten his mood when there in trouble and would bring out their fathers goofy side when she declared a tickle fight.?

Who would make their mom smile when she looked at the way her arrows were entangled with pretty flowers and colourful plants or bring out the smile their mother reserved for when she was being bombarded with story’s of all the funny things Tonôwa had managed to do in just one day?

Who would Lo’ak spend hours joking around with, causing all sorts of trouble?

Who would kiri have to share her secrets, a confidant who would give the best advice? 

Who would wait behind with Tuk so she didn’t feel left out from the big kid games, who would always find a way to cheer her up when she was sad or know the right words to say when Tuk felt inadequate? 

And finally he thought who would hug him the hardest when he was struggling with all the pressures of being his parents golden son, to show him it was ok to mess up and make mistakes. To not have the weight of his sibling on his back at all times?

Alue’k. 

Neteyam looked at his father and watched as he sighed, pulling his hand own his face.

Jake looked at Neteyam jerking his head to the side signalling to him that he was to go home. He nodded, gently but firmly grabbing his brother by the arm and dragged him back to where their Ikran were waiting.

Once they had mounted their respected Ikran, Lo’ak turned to his older brother.

Lo’ak - She’ll be ok, right?

Neteyam met Lo’aks eyes which were filled with worry, he gave his brother a reassuring smile.

Neteyam - She’ll be fine.

That’s what he hoped. With that the brothers flew back home to wait for their father and sisters return. leaving Alue’k to her fate.

The thick silence that followed the brothers as they left was … intimidating.

The younger of the two Na’vi was still focused on her hands as she all but nearly dislocate her fingers with the force she was putting into fiddling with them.

Jake let out a long dawn out breath. Not a sigh but … yeah it was a sigh. He looked at his daughter a frown growing onto his face as his brows knitted together. Jake folded his arms all the while staring at his daughter. 

His baby girl. Who he almost lost … again! At this point he was starting to lose count of the amount of time his child has endangered herself and almost died. He was exhausted. Not of his child but the worry and fear that was weighting on him. 

When he woke up this morning to find her missing it felt as if his hart had stoped right there and then. Waking up Neytiri with shaking hands and calling out a search party to find his little girl who hopefully hadn’t joined Awa in the time it took him to find her missing.

He took in the sight of his little girl, watching her fidget and not making eye contact. He noticed the makeshift turner kit on her arm noting how the wound looked deep and might even need a few stitches … that’ll be fun.

Jake was just staring at her and Alue’k felt so nervous and some other emotion she couldn’t name.

Yeah, she new what she had down was reckless and stupid but she needed to prove herself … she had to … right.

Is that why she couldn’t look at her dad … was she ashamed, embarrassed? No, thats not it. She was proud of her accomplishment, of her victory but if that wasn’t it … what was it?

Jake - What were you thinking? You could have been killed, is that what you want? To leave this family broken so you can have a joy ride?

Jake didn’t mean his words … well not all of them. He was angry and he wanted to get his point across to his daughter. He didn’t want to loose his baby, why was that so hard for her to understand?

Alue’k stoped fidgeting instead focusing all her energy of the ground and if willing Awa to swallow her hole.

Jake - What you did was dangerous and reckless. Awas sake, and for what? To prove that your grown, that your ready for the responsibility of being a hunter? 

Alue’k stood still with bated breath, eyes still glued to the ground. Tears had started to grow in the corner of her eyes as she stops a silent sob from escaping her throat.

Fuck. She couldn’t do anything right. She had completed her Iknimaya, she had earned an Ikran so for the love of Awa why was her father still not proud of her. Why dose he still not believe in her, is she truly that hopeless that her accomplishment mean nothing?

Jake, not noticing his daughters change in dementor continues, only one thing going through his mind. His baby could of died today.

Jake - All you’ve done is prove that your not mature enough, that your not ready! Do you know how stupid this was, how recklessly life endangering your actions where? We could of lost you today!

Silent hot tears had started to make there was down Alue’ks face. Why couldn’t she be better? Why … why couldn’t she just do it right? Wait. She had done it, maybe not conventionally but she had done it, damit! So why was her dad so pissed?

Alue’k looked at her dad a new ferocity hitting her like a wave hitting a cliffs edge, she hissed angrily as her fathers ears twitched.

Alue’k - Why can’t you just be proud of me! I know I’m not perfect, I know I came out wrong but the least you could do is let me at least think you believe in me!

Her voice came out as a yell, voice hoarse from holding back sobs. Jakes eyes widened in shock … what?

Alue’k took his expression as one of being caught out and continued as hot tears ran down her face.

Alue’k - I know that you don’t believe in me, I’m nothing, I’m useless and I can’t do shit! I’m slower than Neteyam, I’m not as smart as kiri, I’m not as brave as Lo’ak, I’m not as helpful as Tuk! I’m not good enough, I know! 

Her yelling continues, she had wrapped her arms around herself growing desperate for any form of comfort. 

Jake looked at his daughter the weight of her words pressing down on him. Is this what she though? Is this what his baby had been carrying around with her since who in the hell knows how long? Had he truly failed as a parent this much, had he failed his baby girl?

Alue’k had went back to staring at her feet, her feeling had brought on a new exhaustion she didn’t know existed. 

Jake sighed for what felt like the millionth time today as he moved closer to the girl and lifted his daughters chin up so she was looking him in the eye.

Jake - Alue’k, I see you.

Jake found his daughters words harte breaking. He couldn’t believe what he had heard, his baby girl had been suffering and had no idea. He was so focused on the idea of protecting her from the outside world that he didn’t realise what was happening to her on the inside.

Alue’k sobbed clinging onto her father as he brought her in for a hug. He held her tight almost as if she would disappear if he loosened his grasp. 

Jake sat on the ground, pulling his daughter to sit on his lap as he made a comforting rumbling noise from his chest. Alue’k leans into her fathers hug as her sobs slowly turn into sniffles. 

The older Na’vi looked down at his daughter in his lap, a gentil smile gracing his face as he slowly rocked her back a forth in a comforting motion. Just like he had when she was a baby. (Well she was alway going to be his baby, no matter how old she was).

Jake - Have I ever told you the story of the day you were born?

Alue’k shook her head, her outburst of emotion had tiered her out and now she couldn’t muster the energy to talk.

Jake - You came into this world very early, you were too impatient to wait an extra a month. You just had to come out and meet everyone.

Jakes comment made the girl smile a soft chuckle leaving her chest, it was met by a smile from her father who was just happy to see his baby laughing … and alive, safe in his arms where he could protect her.

Jake - Your mother and I were so happy to meet you but you were so small, I could hold you with one hand. 

Jake looked away for a moment as it it physically hurt him to say his next sentence … which it did. Nobody want to talk about their child almost being taken away from them, especially when they’ve bearly had the chance to get to know them.

Jake - When you were born you didn’t cry, you were completely silent. Your mother and I begged Awa to let you breathe, begged you to breathe then Awa answered us and your chest started to breathe. You started to cry and after that I never wanted to feel like I was losing you again. 

-TW- (Mentions of difficult birth/ baby struggling to breath)

Jake didn’t mention some parts of the story as he didn’t think they were fit for a 12 year old. 

He didn’t mention how Neytiri had spent hours in labour struggling to gain any progress in delivering her baby. 

He didn’t mention Neytiris heartbroken cry’s at the realisation that their baby wasn’t breathing. 

He didn’t mention how he had broken the newborns ribs doing CPR trying to get blood flowing through her body and air to her brain as her lungs seemed to fail her. 

He didn’t mention that in his story as he still had nightmares about it.

(-End of TW-)

Jake - I see you Alue’k. You’re my baby girl who can do anything she sets her mind to. You always find a way to go on, you’re a tough kid. I believe in you. I’m just scared of losing you.

The tears that had subside only moment ago resurfaced as she clung to her father, mumbles of I’m sorry tumbling out of her mouth.

Jake just held her close shushing her, gently rocking her back and forth.

Jake - It’s ok baby girl, daddy’s here. I’ve got you, your safe I promise.

After about an hour or so Alue’k calmed down and just sat comfortably in her dads arms. She finally mustered the strength to sit up a looked him in the eyes.

She understood now. While her insecurities where still there, she knew her father believed in her. He didn’t think she was not enough. 

She smiled at him and he smiled back just enjoying each others silent company.

Jake - Your grounded.

Alue’k taken aback by the ruined moment looked at her father.

Alue’k - Daddddddddd!

Jake just chuckled a small bemused huff leaving his chest.

Jake - Don’t “dadddd” me baby girl, you snuck out and nearly got yourself killed. That’s fair ground for getting grounded.

Alue’k - Uhggg.

She slumped over, laying on her father while Jake just laughed stroking her hair out of her face.

An’ri who had sat patiently while her Na’vi … finally dealt with her unresolved emotions had decide that it was time to make an appearance.

She made her way over to the Na’vi and laid her head on her friends shoulder who erupted in giggles as it somehow managed to tickle her.

Jake cocked his head and gently held his hand out to the Ikran who looked at him wearily. An’ri turned to Alue’k and watched as she hugged him showing that he was not a danger. 

So An’ri accepted his offer allowing the older Na’vi to stroke down her neck. 

Alue’k - She’s death, so she can’t hear me when we’re not bonded so I’ve got to show her I’m safe in a different way.

Alue’k explained anticipating her fathers question, Jake only nods not expecting that answer but of course it was his daughter who managed to bond with the only death Ikran he had ever heard of.

He smiled to himself watching his daughter cuddle and coo to her Ikran, reminding him so much of the girls mother who had once done the same to her own.

Once again noticing the wound on his daughters arm her pulled her to him and inspected it. He looks at her asking a silent question of what happened.

Alue’k sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck with her other hand, chuckling nervously.

Alue’k - I kinda forgot the leather tie so I had to use my … arm instead.

Jake shakes his head in disbelief.

Jake - your going to be the death of me kid.

She drew in closer to her dad, cuddling close to him.

Alue’k - I know.

A mischievous smile crossed Alue’k face as she turned back to her dad.

Alue’k - Wanna race back to high camp?

A matching smirk crossed Jakes face.

Jake - Ok baby girl but I’m not going to go east on you.

Alue’k snorted as she picked up a sleeping Tonôwa and mounted her Ikran.

Alue’k - I was hoping you’d say that.

Jake just shook his head in amusement as he mounted his Ikran making the bond.

Jake looked at the fine young women his daughter was turning into … determined, strong, funny, caring he was so proud, he didn’t think there was a word for how much pride he had for his baby. For all his children.

Jake - Ready? 

Alue’k smiles in agreement as she hold on to Tonôwa as she edges toward the cliffs face. 

Jake smiled doing the same.

Alue’k - On 1. 3, 2, 1.

With that they took of racing each other through the floating mountains back to their home, back to their family.

Laughter filled the air as Alue’k did a flip, it was as if she was made to ride Ikran … maybe she was.

Once they finally reached home Alue’k was met with a very pissed Neytiri who cuffed her on the back of her head before bringing her into a bone crushing hug.

Alue’k - … Ow.

Neytiri - Foolish girl. Never again, don’t scare us like that again.

Alue’k pulls her mom closer cuddling into her.

Alue’k - I’m sorry mama.

It was almost a whisper but Neytiri heard it, she looked at her middle daughter cupping her face and smiled. 

Neytiri - Oh my sweet girl.

She pulled Alue’k closer (If possible) to her and they just stood like that for a moment until Tuk joined.

Then kiri who laid her head on Neytiris shoulder and stood close to Alue’k (Kiri’s not a huge fan of hugs). 

Lo’ak and Neteyam soon joined cuddling close to their sisters and mother.

Finally Jake joined in the group hug as well, his large arms engulfed the entire family, holding them close.

This is when Alue’k realised something very important. No matter what, this is where she always would want to be. Wrapped in her family loving, warm … safe embrace.

Alue’k smiled enjoying the warmth and thanked Awa for her breath … for her family.

The End.

[nerves-nebula]

I feel like mikeys are always more emotionally aware. So so socially but the way you have it as mikey being the first to realize the truly fucked up nature of the family is just so in line for a mikey. I feel like they usually have this knack for realizing things and how I feel like your ver just seems like he has kind of adapted to be more aware whether he likes it or not, keep an eye and an ear out without realizing it.

[Once again talking about general Michelangelos] when times get tough then most of the times you can see them being the light hearted jokester to lighten the mood if they can tell they're doing it or not but since they weren't raised neglectful they dont have/havent developed the coping mechanisms and reactions your mikey has from what I've seen/read[first reaction to create a wall and border infront of his emotions, sorta. a thick wall to avoid the topic and the only one allowed out is anger i guess is the best way my brain can put it] unlike other versions who embrace every single feeling they have to the fullest. Sorry for Michelangelo brainrot I have this primal instinct to just zero in on every single one of the little shits. Also im planning on studying psychology so maybeee that has a part! WHO KNOWS! all I know is that your turtles are super duper awesome and cool and have sick ass designs, take care, have fun, you're doing terrific!

YEAH you hit the nail on the head there tbh. I wanted to keep that familiar trait of Mikey being the most socially/emotionally aware. but in this context it means that he's perpetually frustrated that everyone around him keeps making things worse for each other, when CLEARLY the problem is SPLINTER!

so in part he sort of gives up. he never really GIVES UP but he gives up taking the road where you try to directly advise people, and instead kind of has to put up his defenses in order to be functional enough to help his siblings through their emotional issues once they're ready to process shit.

and it sucks ass to be incredibly aware of how shitty and toxic your environment is and just watch people you care about getting worse and worse. guh.

so he's less of a Funny Jokester and more of a bitter little shit who's impatiently waiting for his brothers to shape up. He snipes sarcastically at his brothers for their negative traits, and makes jokes when he can, but tbh he's often too frustrated/lowkey angry to actually joke around without putting real venom in said jokes.

anyway I'm glad you like him <<<33

[fruggo]

Hi hi can I req Danny, Leon and Steve with a male s/o who's a real goofy guy? Cracks jokes during chases, just can't take things too seriously, laid back and chill guy who prioritizes having fun

absolutely, thanks for requesting!! :D this is cute haha. i hope you like it!

danny, leon, and steve with goofy m!s/o

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

danny would consider himself a pretty fun guy, though perhaps his idea of fun would not be the same as a normal person's. so i wouldn't take his word for it if i were you.

honestly? he thinks you're the shit. he genuinely likes your bad dad jokes great puns, will banter back and forth with you, and he might even give you the hatch instead of a mori. although he would love to have your picture, it can wait until the next trial. or the next if he still doesn't feel like it. who knows?

he likes that you're not too serious about everything. since danny is the entity's golden boy, he never has to worry about anything! he likes it here! and it's cool that someone else has a similar mindset about things. although he might have misunderstood "making the best of the situation and just being a goofy person" for "liking it here". you never really clarified which one it was, and why should he ask?

when danny finds out that you act basically the same way with all the killers, cracking jokes and laughing things off in chases, he gets all pouty. he thought he was special. well, looks like you're getting that mori now.

he still likes you though, and he gives you even more special attention now in the form of tunneling and camping! he means well <3 (no he doesn't he is a little bitch and a loser)

but then he hears stories from the other killers about you, and is pleased to find that you are significantly more fun with him, and, dare i say, flirty!

but he still wants to tunnel and camp you.

when you realize what he's doing, you don't get mad about it. what's the point? in fact you think it's really funny.

the first time danny proximity-camped you, you found it rewarding to just talk and talk and talk until he finally talked back. it took a while, but he did finally respond.

you would just say dumb shit, and then you would say more dumb shit, and then it got annoying and danny had to tell you to shut up. and then you would just dramatically whisper something like "okay, pissbaby."

and danny thought maybe he should be angry with you, but he just wasn't. he couldn't be mad at you, because even if he was, you wouldn't care. you weren't scared of him.

so when he finally left and you got unhooked, he tunneled you obviously. it makes sense, okay?

"wow, am i that handsome and gorgeous and attractive?" you monologued while smashing a pallet onto danny's head. "i'm really just so irresistible that you want to tunnel me? honestly, danny, i'm flattered. i'm touched."

danny couldn't remember since when you were on a first name basis, but he let it slide. just because maybe he thinks you are that handsome and gorgeous and attractive.

dude danny is kinda fucked up but like. he's funny. and charming. and he also let you take off his mask once, and so now you know he's also hot. he has a few things going for him as long as you ignore the part where he chases you with a knife.

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘

leon, our favorite rookie :D he's so cute!!! sorry im gushing i just cant resist i love him !!

and you love him too, so much. that's why you accidentally distract him during trials by goofing off and almost getting him killed

it's out of love. leon knows that. you don't really mean to.

while leon's doing a generator, you are probably somewhere nearby trying to find something even remotely interesting to do. and that might involve climbing a tree, then falling out of the tree. but it wasnt your fault! you swore the crows were attacking you, they didn't want you up in that tree because they knew you were just so cool up there and the Entity couldn't have somebody being better and hotter and funnier than itself so high in the sky.

leon could only smile and shake his head, inspecting you for the wounds you inevitably had. when you said you were fine, he was very skeptical, because your version of fine was never the same as his.

the killer knew where you were now because of your very loud "FUCK!" as the crows supposedly attacked you and forced you out of the tree, so you immediately put on your game face and got ready to command some attention.

leon said no, you were not in the right headspace to get chased. you only shrugged at him, slapped his ass, and ran towards the killer yelling, "HEY YOU WANNA HEAR AN AGGIE JOKE?"

leon was used to this by now, and he found it rather endearing. you were an enigma to him, really. how you could be so laid back about this whole murder-die-sacrifice thing was beyond him, but it was refreshing. he liked your enthusiasm.

since he had just come from raccoon city, he was still in his "i have to do the right thing and save everybody because it's my duty" kind of mood. you made sure to lighten up that burden and remind him that it's okay to chill sometimes, and he can't save everybody, especially not here. if you were in a particularly bad trial, you always made sure to get him to crack a smile.

likewise, leon wasn't always too jazzed about your "funny guy gets killed so the team can live" complex. he knew you didn't care, or at least you said you didn't, but he still hated that you constantly sacrificed yourself and acted like it was no big deal. to him, it was. he hated going back to the campfire alone and waiting forever for you to show up again; he cared about you and it hurt to see you sacrifice yourself so much even if he knew you would return.

leon didn't have a stick up his ass or anything--he had his fair share of humorous moments (i mean have you seen infinite darkness ashdjshdf that man just wants love and food). he just wants to save everybody, you included. it's frustrating to come to terms with the fact that he can't.

he loves it when he can hear you yelling at the killer mid-chase from afar, be it a pun or a swear or both. you've even influenced him to crack his own jokes while being chased sometimes--it comes out more often if he's being tunneled. if you ever happened to see him do it, you would wipe a fake tear from your face and start clapping. you were very proud of your rookie.

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍

the killers hated you and steve, and i mean like despised you

you were so chill. and for what???? why do you have chill???? nobody else has chill, what makes you think you deserve to have chill????

they could never make you angry and that made them super angry

you and steve would quip back and forth between chases, sometimes going so far as to pretend the killer is not there and talk about something like what kind of cheese you missed eating the most. let me tell you, that did not make the trickster happy.

he was a star!! a star, and here you two little shits were, ignoring him to talk about cheese. honestly, the audacity.

you and steve ran to the killer shack with the trickster on your heels, still talking about cheese. how the conversation had gone on this long was a mystery, and it continued to be a mystery while the two of you shared a chase in the shack.

steve was very happy to have found someone to share his sentiments with. everybody was so serious all the time, and while he was similar to leon with his altruistic streaks, he was slightly less responsible and occasionally enjoyed doing dumb stunts just for shits and giggles.

you can bet that whenever you are in a trial together, it's a competition to see who can hold the killer's attention longer. your teammates don't mind--all they have to do is complete gens, so their job is fairly easy. and it's always entertaining to catch sight of one of you sprinting with a new flashlight in your hand to go annoy the crap out of the killer.

there's no question that steve would die for you a hundred times over, and you would do the same for him. you didn't see it as a very big deal--you didn't see anything here as a very big deal. steve was the only important thing you had, really, and you cared for him a lot. saving him? kapeesh. no sweat.

scenario: steve is being chased, you throw yourself in front of him, the killer has noed, you are hooked, you give him a thumbs up as you die, he flips you off because why the fuck would you die for him what is wrong with you he's supposed to die for you and you know that?? why would you do that???? great, now steve gets to escape and it's all your fault.

you would simply smile. he was so cute sometimes.

[queenxxxsupreme]

In the Lamplight (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

A/N: This has really no plot except I got upset because of what Arthur can say when he looks in a mirror and it makes me just wanna hug him and kiss the sad cowboah away. Also, I’m trying out Arthur calling his S/O pumpkin instead of the usual ‘darlin’. Here’s another Arthur Morgan fluff if you wanna take a look at it:)

Warnings: self image issues, Arthur having issues with himself as a person??? I don’t know the right way to word it, self conscious!Arthur Morgan, shy!Arthur Morgan I think?, sad but fluffy ending, very fluffy 

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Arthur has issues with himself, but you do your best to make sure he knows just exactly why you love him. 

**picture isn’t mine**

The light from the oil lamp flickered, casting ominous shadows across Arthur’s face. 

He stood in front of the mirror in just a pair of jeans, studying his features with a scowl etched into his face. He was in the process of changing when he caught sight of himself on the reflective surface. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t look, but he couldn’t help it. 

He could see more wrinkles by his eyes than he recalled from the last time he had looked into a mirror. For as long as he could remember, he had a few sunspots on his face. It came with years of working outside, of being out in the elements and exposed to the sun. 

Scars littered nearly every inch of his skin. Some were big and nasty looking, while others were small and barely visible. 

A hand on his side made him blink, pulling him from his trance-like state. 

You were peaking around his shoulder, peering up at him with your brows knit together. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Just fine, pumpkin.”

“Then why were you starin’ for so long?” You looked to the mirror, rubbing your hand up and down his side. 

“Just cause.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Why’d you get outta bed? Ya aren’t wearin’ any socks. Your feet are gonna get cold.”

“I called your name twice. You didn’t answer.” You kissed his bare shoulder. “Had me worried.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“M’thinkin’ about tomorrow, pumpkin. We gotta long trip ahead of us. Gotta make it to camp before sundown. Don’t wanna be travelin’ after nightfall.”

You nodded and moved to get into bed, pulling up your chemise so you could climb into the bed. 

“How many scars you reckon I get a year?” Arthur asked, unbuckling his belt and shucking off his pants. 

“Just depends on how many reckless and stupid decisions you make in a year.” You pulled the blankets up over your legs. 

He barked out a laugh, but it was short lived. 

You watched Arthur as he sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. He let out a heavy breath, running a hand over his face. 

“You ever…. You ever think ‘bout anyone else?”

You drew your brows together, tilting your head to the side.

“What kind of question is that, Arthur?”

He sat back, rubbing his thigh as he locked his jaw for a moment. 

“At the saloon earlier…. That fella that was gettin’ chatty with you…. Who was he?”

You were quiet for a few moments, carefully reading Arthur’s body language. He was rigid and tense, and he sat on the opposite end of the bed from you. It was like he was trying to put space between you two.

You knew how insecure he was about himself, though he rarely vocalized it. He hated how he looked and he hated himself. It hurt you to know how poorly he felt about himself. 

“A rancher. Didn’t catch his name.” You answered, glancing down at your hands. You brushed your fingers over the top quilt, tracing the stitching to keep your hand occupied.

The man he was talking about was some stranger who had tried to get friendly with you at the saloon in town earlier in the evening when you and Arthur stopped in for drinks. Arthur stepped out for a moment and when he returned, there was a man, maybe ten years younger than him, in his seat. You didn’t flirt with him and Arthur knew this, but the voice in his head had been getting louder and louder all evening, demanding that he address the situation. 

“I wasn’t interested in findin’ out.”

“Why not?” Arthur didn’t look at you. He was too busy staring at the floor in front of him. 

“That’s a silly question. Because I have you.”

He cleared his throat, shifting in his spot. 

“Do I-I hold you back?”

“That’s another silly question. Where is this coming from?” You looked up at him. 

“I’m just…. I don’t know. Just thinkin’.”

“Well you better stop all that thinkin’. It’s not doin’ you a lick of good. You don’t hold me back from anything, Arthur.”

He said nothing, keeping his eyes on the floorboards in front of him. 

You wanted to lay down, to tell him that you both needed the sleep, but you knew he just needed time.

You stayed sitting against the headboard, eyes flickering around the room for a while. You didn’t want to fall asleep without him. 

“Be honest with me, pumpkin.” He murmured quietly, his eyes still avoiding yours. He messed with his fingers now, picking at his nails. “Tell me something that you don’t like about me.”

“Arthur-,”

“Don’t go telling me that nonsense ‘bout how you like everything about me. That’s horseshit.” He cut you off, but he never raised his voice. “Be honest with me.”

“You want me to be honest?”

He nodded, eyes closing as if he was  preparing himself to hear the worst. 

You pushed the quilts off of yourself and shifted around to sit on your knees. 

“Come here, Arthur.” You spoke his name softly, patting the space on the bed in front of you. 

He hesitated, blue eyes flickering from your hands to the bed, then up to you. 

He stood up and moved around the bed, coming to sit on the edge next to you. He was being stubborn and not facing you, so you climbed into his lap. 

Instinctually, his hands came up to hold on to your backside. 

You reached up to cup his jaw, fingertips brushing along his scruff. He leaned into your touch for just a moment. You wished he did it more often. 

You let your index and middle finger create an imaginary line along his jaw to his chin. From there, you went down the front of his neck. Your eyes followed your touch, admiring every little scar that tried to hide beneath his growing beard. 

He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath your fingers. You smiled a little. His eyes fluttered shut. 

“There is so much to you, Arthur Morgan.” You whispered. “So much to admire and to love about you.”

Your touch traveled down to his collarbone. You found a scar from a knife there. The skin was jagged and much more pale than the rest of him. 

You recalled hearing about how it was from one of the O’Driscolls. He’d run out of bullets and ended up in a knife fight with another man. Lenny recalled there being three O’Driscolls in all, but Arthur never went into detail about it. 

Arthur watched you, the way your eyes examined the scar carefully as if you’d never seen it before. He was just about to open up his mouth and ask you when you leaned forward to kiss it. 

Goosebumps broke out across his skin and a wave of heat rushed through him. 

He expected you to pull away, but you didn’t. You kissed the front of his neck and then nuzzled your nose against chin, gently coaxing him to tilt his head to the side. 

He was a little confused, but he followed your silent instructions, bearing his neck to you. He felt exposed and naked, more so than he did when you two were intimate. You were kissing his neck. Your hand was creeping up his chest, your featherlike touch trailing up along the opposite side of his neck that you were kissing. 

He let out a breathy gasp when your teeth scraped over his pulse. His hands tightened around his hips. 

“Hell are you tryin’ to do to me, Y/N?” He rasped.

“Just lovin’ up on you.” You teased lightly, doing your best to hide the smile on your lips. 

You pulled back, looking up at him. He held your gaze for maybe a split second before looking away. You caught his chin, holding him in your hands, and turned his head to you. 

“My least favorite thing about you, Arthur Morgan, has got to be the way you think so poorly about yourself. How…. how you think that after all we’ve been through, I’d leave you.” 

“‘Cause I know there’s men better suited for ya out there.” He mumbled, pulling your hand from his face. “I know I ain’t the greatest choice-,”

“You are for me, Arthur.” You cut him off. “You are the best choice for me.”

He shook his head, muttering a few incoherent words of disagreement under his breath. 

“Arthur Morgan, you stubborn man.” You sighed. “What makes you think you aren’t the best man suited for me?”

“‘Cause I look like an old sack of shit, goin’ round stealin’ and killin’ and…. And you- You’re just…. You’re fucking…. Can’t even find the words to fit you, pumpkin.” 

“I ain’t no show pony either, Arthur. I’ve done my fair share of sin. Shit, how the hell do you think me and Hosea met?”

He shook his head again. 

“I love you, Arthur Morgan.” You leaned forward to kiss his chin. “Even if you have your doubts about us.”

“I don’t doubt us.” His hand slipped around to the small of your back. With ease, he pulled you closer to him. “If I doubted us, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“You doubt me. That I’m going to stay.”

“That’s ‘cause…. ‘Cause everyone always leaves eventually.” His eyes drifted down to your chest, finding a scar where your collarbones met. “No one ever stays. I always push ‘em away. Either with my overly charmin’ personality or the whole career criminal.” He tried to make a joke to lighten the mood but you didn’t laugh. Now wasn’t the time for jokes. “Just tryin’ to prepare myself for when you do leave, pumpkin.”

“The only way I am leavin’ you, Arthur Morgan, is when I die.” You took hold of his jaw with both hands, tilting his head up so he had no choice but to meet your eyes. “I’m here and I’m not goin’ nowhere.”

His blue eyes watched you carefully, gazing into your own as his hands on the small of your back tightened a little, drawing you closer.

“I happen to like your personality. You’re a kind man with a big heart, and a funny sense of humor that not everyone gets.” You leaned forward to kiss the space between his eyes. His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into you, resting his forehead against your chin. This made talking a little difficult, but you made it work. “And I’ve got a record as long as yours, Mr. Morgan. I don’t think I can use your criminal history against you. Actually, I think mine might be longer than yours….”

His broad shoulders trembled a little as he chuckled. 

“I know you haven’t had good luck in the past, Arthur.” You gently pushed him away so that you could look at him. You wanted to be able to see his eyes. “And I know every time that Linton girl writes a letter to you, it reopens old wounds, but you are more than her. You are more than just the gang. You have a big heart. You’re a good man and she’s an absolute jackass for making you think otherwise.”

“But…. how do you know that?” He asked quietly. 

You brushed your fingers through his hair, letting out a soft breath. 

“Let’s get comfortable in bed.”

You climbed off of him and clambered across the bed to settle underneath the blankets. Arthur followed behind you, getting comfortable too. You scooted as close to him as possible, hooking your leg up over his hip and resting your head on his shoulder. He slipped his arm around your back to hold you to him. You put your hand on his chest and began to trace shapes into his skin. 

“You don’t kill for fun, Arthur. You try to save as many people as you can when we do jobs. You go out of your way to help others when we’re out. You remember that mom who lost her son outside of Strawberry? You helped lead the search and even after everyone gave up, you kept looking for him. And you were the one to bring him home. Or how about how when we pass someone on the street who needs money, you give them enough for food? Arthur, you would give the clothes off of your back to a complete stranger in a blizzard to keep them warm if they needed it.”

“I guess so.” He muttered.

“You’re a stubborn man, Arthur.” You kissed his chest. “I guess it’s a good thing I get to spend the rest of our lives reminding you why you’re a good man.”

“The rest of our lives?” He repeated, looking down at you with raised brows. 

“Mhm.”

“Jesus.” He groaned, though you knew he was just teasing you. 

“Don’t worry, cowboy. With our lifestyle, we never know how long it’ll be. That’s the thrill of it all.” You smiled a little and closed your eyes.

Silence fell between you two for a little bit and just as you were about to fall asleep, you felt Arthur kiss the top of your head.

“Good night, pumpkin.”

“Night, Arthur.”

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[whimsicallyreading]

Eight Second Ride

Part Three-

(Part Two)

“So you are telling me-“ Aedion scowls from the other side of her bed, “you ditched me for a sweaty bull rider and didn’t even last an hour into the date?”

Aelin shoves a spoonful of cookies and cream ice cream into her mouth and sniffles. “That’s all you got from my story?”

He slings an arm over Aelin’s shoulders and she lays her head on his chest gratefully. She’d caught an Uber back to her apartment where Aedion was already camped out waiting for her.

One look at her mascara smeared face, and he’d made a pillow fort on her bed. Complete with ice cream and “Little Women” playing on his phone.

“No, I got the whole chauvinistic asshole, bit.” Aedion stabs his spoon into the container and breaks up a particularly large piece of Oreo. “I just decided to focus on the part that doesn’t make me want to leave you hear and go and kill him right now.”

“I thought cowboys were supposed to be classy.” Aelin watched Jo play with her sisters in their attic on Aedion’s tiny screen. “Take city girls into the country to ride a horse and show them a bigger purpose in life, kind of shit.”

“Hallmark is such a liar.” Aedion huffs and squeezes her shoulder a little tighter. “I’m sorry, Lin. I know going out tonight was a big step for you. It’s a shame he acted the way he did.”

It was rare Aelin acted on a whim these days. Not like she used to do when she was in high school. She felt a pull to go with Rowan, but her gut had led her into a situation that could have gone south very quickly.

It’s a hard thing when you can’t trust yourself.

“No. I shouldn’t have gone. Especially not alone.” Aelin’s feels her thoughts drifting. Creeping towards that iron box of memories she keeps locked tight. “It’s my mistake.”

“No.”

The fervor in Aedion’s voice draws her attention up to his face, and Aelin is jarred by the intensity of his expression. “Aedion-“

“It’s not your fault.” His voice is gravely, and his blue eyes flicker like the heart of a flame. “I don’t give a shit what that bastard thought you accepting his invitation meant. You don’t owe him sex because he buys you a drink.”

“Aedion-“ Aelin tries to interrupt again. A new wave of tears burns her eyes, but Aedion is on a roll and he isn’t going to quite down until he gets out what’s on his mind.

“You don’t deserve to be treated like an object that can be bought.” Aelin can’t look him in the eyes any longer, but a calloused hand guides her face to the crook of his neck.

“His friends are shitty. He should have made them shut up. Ogling you, and making you feel unsafe and uncomfortable aren’t funny jokes.” Aedion goes on as Aelin sniffles into his shirt.

“You deserve respect. It doesn’t matter what you are wearing, what he buys you, or what his expectations are. His behavior isn’t your fault.” Aedion whispers against the top of her head.

Aelin wraps the arm that isn’t squished under her, around his waist. “I love you, Brother Wolf.”

“I love you too, Fireheart.” Aedion kisses her forehead and tugs her closer, the old terms of endearment are exchanged between them with ease.

“I know you are still dealing with everything that happened a couple years ago. I’m happy to remind you how worth it you are whenever you need.”

Aedion was an island of safety in the turbulent ocean of her life. Even when Aelin was small, she’d often go to him before her own parents with her problems. He was steady, and calm. The exact opposite of her own personality.

After the incident, he hadn’t rested until she was safely at his side again. Aedion stood by her faithfully as she picked up the broken pieces of her life and held her hand as she tried to make something new from them.

“How come you already had this movie downloaded onto your phone?” Aelin teased lightly, trying to lighten the mood. “Did you suddenly develop a sense of taste?”

Aedion purses his lips. “Lysandra said this movie is, and I quote, the most accurate depiction of the female experience.” He shakes his head. “I’ve tried to watch it three times, and I still can’t figure out what it’s even about.”

“You are a simple minded creature, cousin.” Aelin grabs her spoon and scoops a melty bite of ice cream into her mouth. “Thank you for coming over.”

“Anytime, Lin.” He leans his cheek on her head as the scene on his phone shifts from the cooler grey tones of the present, back to the warm colors that represented better days. “Anytime.”

~~~

The day started off better than she expected.

Aedion was gone when she woke up- he had to rise at an ungodly hour to make it to the fire station on time.

Yet, he set her alarm clock for her so Aelin woke up in time to get ready for work. He’d also set a glass of water and an Advil tablet on her bedside table to curb the headache she was sure to have from crying.

Aelin made it out the door with enough time to stop and get coffee on the way. She even splurged and got a chocolate hazelnut Frappuccino with enough sugar to smooth her wounded feelings.

It was going so well, Aelin should have known it was the universe winding up to screw her.

It was only a couple hours before she closed shop when Lorcan Salvaterre stepped through her front door.

“Holy shit, it’s you.” Were the first words from his mouth. His dark eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Rowan is going to flip when I tell him I actually found you.”

“What are you doing here?” Aelin’s slammed a stack of books on the counter.

Lorcan looked pensive. “Rowan said you mentioned owning a book store-“ he drags a hand through his dark hair. “I felt like I ruined his chance with you, so I thought I maybe if I apologized-“

“Let me stop you there,” Aelin didn’t bother looking at him as she labeled books and organized them into stacks. “You didn’t ruin anything, you didn’t help, but he screwed up all by himself.”’

“He realizes that,” Lorcan quickly defends, his voice gruff with irritation. “If I can give him your number I’m sure he will grovel for himself.”

Aelin rolls her eyes and slides another stack to the end of the counter. “You don’t get it.”

“Get what?” She can tell he’s losing his patience with her. Lorcan’s remorse only went so far, apparently.

Aedion’s words from earlier rang in her ears as she repeated them back to the man. “He was overbearing the entire time. Had double standard opinions about my life, and disrespected my boundaries.”

Aelin watched as Lorcan shifted on his feet, itching to say something but obviously refraining. Measuring his words carefully he looked her dead in the eye. “Look. He was just trying to impress you. Rowan doesn’t go out often. Don’t you think you are blowing this a little out of proportion?”

Red. Aelin saw red. Tasted it. Like iron in her mouth. Or maybe that was just the blood from biting her tongue so hard. “I’m working right now. You don’t strike me as extremely literate, but I have to ask for you to either buy something or leave.”

Lorcan glowered at her. “Fine.” He turns to walk out, but Aelin hears him call her a bitch under his breath.

Just then, Elide walks inside the shop doors. A backpack slung over her shoulder, finished with her classes at Rifthold U and prepared to work the evening shift with her.

Aelin is relieved for the interruption and about to take full advantage of it, when the small, brown-haired girl catches sight of Lorcan and beams like a rutting lighthouse.

“Lorcan! I didn’t know you were coming into my work, what a surprise.”

Elide. One of her best friends, runs up to the six-two tower of misogynistic cow boys and flings her arms around him. Hugs him.

Ellie she recalls the name being thrown out last night. She hadn’t put two and two together. Ellie was a common name. Of all the people in this city it had to be Elide, Aelin mentally bemoans.

She wonders if Elide knew how her cowboy behaved when she wasn’t around.

It doesn’t matter. Lorcan is all too aware of Aelin’s eyes boring into his skin, and knows he needs to make a quick get away.

“Ellie,” Lorcan pulls away from her. “I just had to see this book shop you are always talking about.”

He kisses her head, and looks at her with feigned remorsefulness. “I must have gotten your shifts mixed up in my head, though. I’m afraid I have to go. We booked a training time for six and I need to brush down Nettie before we start.”

“Oh,” Elide says, a look of genuine disappointment on her face. “That’s fine. Are we still on for a movie tomorrow?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he promises. He pecks her one more time on the lips and tips his chin towards Aelin. Anger still bubbling in his eyes. “Good day, ma’am.”

Aelin releases a breath when the doors close behind him.

“I’m so sad I missed him.” Elide frowns, tossing her back pack behind the counter. “At least you got to meet him. What did you think? He’s absolutely dreamy, right?”

Aelin chokes back a gag. “Yeah. He was really charming.”

“And get this,” Elide smiles. “He’s a cowboy. Like an actual, real life cowboy. He rides pulls and does team roping. It’s sexy.”

Aelin can’t hide the grimace this time. “You are like my baby sister. I never want to hear the words sexy from your mouth again.”

At least, never in the context of Lorcan. They’d had plenty of boy talk before.

“He even carries a rope.” Elide wags an eyebrow. “Better to tie me up when we-“

Aelin holds a book over her face. “I’m not listening to this! I will file a report with HR.”

Elide laughs. “You are the boss, Lin. You know we don’t have an HR.”

“I need to get one now,” Aelin grumbles. “I don’t need an image of yours and Lorcan’s naked asses in my head.”

She wanted Lorcan out of her head entirely. Along with Rowan and the rest of their cadre.

“Fine,” Elide sighs wistfully. “One day you will be in love and I won’t hold it against you when you want to talk about whatever babe you wind up with.”

Her eyes get a mischievous glint. “Actually- Lorcan has some really cute friends. I could set you up with?”

Aelin’s brain banks. “No. No thank you. I like being alone. I’m more than enough company for myself.”

“Come on, a double date would be fun!” Elide whines and tugs on her arm. “You never go out any more. We could have a great night out.”

An image of the twins cutting lines on the bar flash across her mind and make her shudder.

“I said no, Elide.” Aelin says a bit more harshly then she intends, but Elide gets the point and backs off.

“Sorry. I won’t mention it again.” Instead of anger she looks at Aelin worriedly.

She kind of hates that more.

“Thanks.” She shakes her head and tries to clear the residual stress from her head. “I have to set up a new shelf display. Want to help?”

Elide lights back up at the prospect. She loved designing and organizing. They have a great time setting displays up together and Aelin knew it would take her mind away from the tension she’d created.

She just really hoped that Elide dating Lorcan wouldn’t drag any drama into her own life. Aelin didn’t care what half asses excuses Lorcan made, she wasn’t interested in seeing Rowan again.

Hello! I’m so glad I got this posted today. 😂 I’m hoping to get the next chapter of DRNS out tomorrow. After that, my birthday is next Tuesday and I reaaallly want to do a mass update of all my fics then as a hooray to 21. (Yes. That is what I’m doing for my 21st 🤣) Hope you enjoyed it!

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[selene-tempest]

Day 26 what form of expression are you grateful for?

That's an easy one, laughter. And we laugh a lot in this house.

It's true what they say, laughter is the best medicine and it's really does make you feel better.

Gordon knows that better than most and he's always there with a silly joke or a funny face to try to lighten the mood or cheer you up.

But there are different reasons for laughter depending on the person.

With Scott we have stupid in jokes that only the two of us get, mostly things we've watched in movies and adopted. We also tease each other mercilessly, he's a complete shit most of the time, but I can never hold out against him when he's grinning like a loony, I just can't help but smile back and then we start laughing.

Virgil is more about reminiscing over funny things that have happened, but he also has this little evil streak, just like Scott does, where he will pull a prank on an unsuspecting brother and feel zero guilt for it. I don't get involved with pranks, I just watch from the sidelines and laugh at the results.

Alan is just pure joy, seriously he is. I love watching Alan laugh because it's completely unreserved and unselfconscious. He just laughs when he finds something funny, no matter what it is. And he finds a lot of things funny so there is no shortage of giggles coming from his direction.

Gordon is much the same, he laughs all the time, but his is mostly for no reason. Gordon can find the positive in absolutely anything and will make a joke out of the most mundane of things. I watched him talk to a fly yesterday, it was walking along the windowsill but he did commentary like it was on a catwalk modeling the latest fashions. He didn't even know I was paying attention, he was just amusing himself, which in turn amused me.

And lastly, my John. He makes me laugh on a daily basis, mostly without trying. He's got this wicked sense of humour that most people never see. Once he got comfortable with me and our relationship he bloomed into the most amazing person in the world. He's confident and secure with me and that means he rarely worries about saying or doing the wrong thing. We never take things personally.

He has this slightly sarcastic, completely done with your shit attitude and humour that is just so funny. We hardly ever argue, mostly because we bicker affectionately all the time, so things rarely become an issue.

I can honestly say that I've never laughed so much, so often as I have being part of this family. Sure, we have bad times, probably more than most, but the good times definitely outweigh the bad , and laughing helps make them good.

[forlornmelody]

Resurrection Day

Rating: M (just a lot of angst, really. Character death, some graphic violence, and an afterglow moment)

Fandom(s): DC Comics

Ship: Jayrose, RedArse, 

Linkage: Ao3

Summary:   The Outlaws have always had a funny relationship with death, but when one of their own dies, they try to rise from their mistakes.

Note:  Idk if this is a fic, or more my headcanons strung together. Enjoy? 

-*-*

“Do you ever regret it?” 

Jason only half-hears her, his eyelids heavy, and his body so relaxed with release that he might never move again. “Mm?” he mumbles, pulling his body through quicksand so he can lay on his side and face her. 

Rose’s skin still glistens in the evening light, her hair mussed, and her face flushed. Her voice still throaty from moaning and screaming that Jason’s too busy reliving those last straining moments he almost doesn’t hear her again. “Do you ever regret...coming back?”

Pushing himself onto his elbows, Jason gazes down at her with a crooked grin. “To Gotham? Only when Bruce breathes down my neck.”

Snorting, Rose stretches one arm above her head, and her chest rises towards him in a way that makes him suck in his breath. Focus. She won’t meet his eyes, and her lips keep forming words she doesn't speak. “No, I mean. Do you regret being brought back?” The warmth in Jason’s belly turns to ice. 

It’s all too easy to remember that god-awful laugh, and the red haze in his vision, and the blood in his eyes. The searing pain of each blow, and the ache every time he tries to breathe. The numbness that settles in when he reaches the door and finds it locked--when he hears the egg timer on Joker’s signature bomb. 

Remembering what came after is harder. Running out of air. So much water, but it’s thicker than water, and he can’t get to the surface fast enough. Screaming. So much screaming. Is he screaming? Everyone’s trying to kill him. He can’t get out. He can’t get out. He can’t.

“Jason?” Rose only says his name when she’s worried. She squeezes his shoulder, digging her nails into his skin until his vision clears. “Shit. Sorry.” Sighing in frustration, she looks away. “Didn’t mean to bring all that back.”

Leaning his forehead against hers, Jason tries to get his breathing under control like his shrink taught him, but it’s easier said than done, and he fears the moment lost by the time he does. He tries to turn it into a joke, to lighten the mood. “That’s like asking if I regret being alive.” Jason huffs a laugh, but it falls flat. 

Rose bites her lip so hard Jason half-expects it to bleed. She looks up at him as if she’s confessing to murder. Sorry, Asshole, I fucked up again. Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. “I was there, you know.”

Jason’s eyes widen. “At the Lazarus Pit?” And there he is, again. Drowning. 

“Yeah.” She swallows, and the next part comes out thick. “I was the one who told Ra’s Al Ghul where to find your body. He let me watch, as a thank you.”

Nowhere in that haze of memory does Jason recall seeing Rose, and that it is a whole new betrayal. “Where?” He sucks in a breath. “When?”

“Guess you weren’t happy to see me.” She snorts. “You tried to kill me. Well. Everyone, really. But you were fixated on me.” Rose looks at him, finally. “Thaila had to pull you off me before I stopped self-healing altogether.”

“And then you...left?” He’s angry, as if he has any right to be. Jason probably would’ve done the same given the circumstances. 

Rose nods. “And the All-Caste offered to take you in, fix you right up. Guess it worked.” A small smile sneaks onto her lips. But it doesn’t reach her eyes. 

One of Jason’s first clear memories of that time--a lonely night in his cell in The Chamber of All. Wondering what happened to her. If she had died right along with him and hadn’t been brought back. Being so angry when he got back to Gotham and she apparently had a life of her own. His memories of her, after, are a little less clear. But the distant look in her eyes tells him all he needs to know. 

----

“Dude, don’t be so hard on her.” Roy polishes off yet another hot dog, licking his fingers. 

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Jason kicks his heels against the edge of the rooftop. He reaches for one of the polish sausages, but his stomach gurgles in protest. Maybe not, then. 

“You’ve no idea what she went through to get you back.” He turns to look at him, with those hazel eyes lingering on Jason in a way that always leaves him feeling, well, naked. Which shouldn’t be an issue right? Roy’s seen him naked plenty of times after a mission. There’s only one shower, and that apartment has one tiny ass water heater. Showering together only makes sense? At least there’s room for the both of them, just barely. It often turns into a game of Twister mixed with hot yoga. And like, there’s never been any problem, yeah? 

But sometimes the way Jason catches Roy staring at him. Makes him wonder. 

If he wants to stare back.

Just every once in a while. 

“Like what?” They really shouldn’t have bought the entire foodcart’s stock so the Old Man Gerasimos “Jerry” Angelos could head home early. This is way too much food, even with Roy’s bottomless stomach. 

“Maybe you should ask her sometime.” 

“Nah, I’m good.” Jason licks his fingers. “It’s easier to not talk about it at all.”

Roy laughs. “Ah, just like how you don’t talk about stuff with anyone else?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jason gives him a playful look, but the look on Roy’s face stops him short. 

Roy doesn’t answer. He reaches over instead, wiping the mustard that got caught on the side of his mouth. His fingers are so unbelievably warm, like he’s made of fire and not skin. And Jason aches when he pulls away abruptly. 

“I uh, I just remembered that my laundry’s sitting in the washer. Probably stinks already.” Roy rushes off, not even bothering to wipe his fingers on a napkin. 

“It always stinks, Harper!” Jason roars after him, but his friend has already shut the door. 

Roy dies two days later.

------

“Would you be angry if I--we brought Roy back?” They’re on a rooftop, They’ve been waiting here for hours for Valentino’s men to show, and still nothing. Not all the Tuesday tacos in the world can make the night any less stale. Rose is on her fifth one when she gets philosophical.

Jason snorts. “You say that like it’s possible.”

Rose doesn’t say anything, and that’s what scares him.

“It’s not,” he says, louder.

“Why not?” She wipes quac from the corner of her mouth, staring at the rooftop across the street as if Roy’s gonna pop out of the skylight any second. “We brought you back.”

She can’t be serious. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t know what it’s like, Rose.”

Rose deadpans at him, her lips tight and firm. “I don’t?”

Jason thinks back to the first time he found her. Her right arm bent backward, her left cradling a wound that had bled out next to her. How her eyes stared out at nothing. Someone had pressed the mute button on the universe, except for the thud of his own heart. He should call someone. Bruce, 911, anyone, but his hands won’t move.  “Right, sorry.” 

It’s a terrible idea, they both know that, but the thought keeps eating away at him. Every time Jason lets his mind wander, it wanders to Roy--his crooked smile, his careless lean--the clumsiness that shouldn’t belong to a world-class archer, but it does. The headquarters seems so empty without Roy in it--so cavernous yet so claustrophobic like it’s going to eat Jason alive. 

-----

Three days later Rose is roundhouse kicking a punching bag when Jason finds her. “We can’t use the Lazarus Pit.”

 Rose stumbles, missing the bag completely and tumbling to the floor. “The fuck, Jason!” For someone who sees the future, Rose certainly didn’t hear this coming. 

Jason helps her up. “We can’t use the Lazarus Pit. I don’t want Roy going through what I did.” He meets her eyes. “What we did.” 

Rose nods, still breathless and annoyed in a way that makes him want to smother her with kisses. “You got another idea?” Jason swallows, squeezing the hand he’s still holding. “Jason?”

“You wouldn’t happen to know your HLA markers, would you?”

“My what?”

----

 Rose hates going to the doctor. It’s rarely a problem--her regeneration usually prevents her from getting sick, and her injuries hardly last long enough. But she’s been around enough mad scientists that she practically glares holes into the nurse when he brings out the needle. 

“Don’t kill him and maybe I’ll give you a lollipop afterward.” Jason elbows her other arm.

“A lollipop is not what I want to be sucking right now,” Rose fires back, looking at him instead of the needle. She relaxes slightly, and Jason kisses her, brushing her hair behind her ear.

The nurse coughs. “Alright. Easy in--and done.”

Rose swallows, taking in a deep breath. “Finally.” She closes her eyes, then stands up, rushing for the door.

Jason pauses in the doorframe, looking back at the nurse. “Uh, keep us posted.”

“We’ll call.”

----

It’s a stupid idea. The morgue doesn’t even understand why Jason Todd, adopted son of Billionaire Bruce Wayne wants to keep Roy Harper’s body in their freezer, especially when Oliver Queen seems to want it cremated as soon as possible. Bribing the owner doesn’t even work--not with Queen’s fortune also in play. So, Rose concocts some dumbass story about Harper’s biological family coming in from out of town. It’s so crazy that both Queen and the mortician fall for it. 

Both Jason and Rose hold their breath when his phone rings. And Rose, and her fucking precognition, hugs him tight and fucking squeals before the nurse even says it “It’s a match.”

---

“Nervous?” Jason sits next to her, squeezing her hand as the scientist hooks the catheter tube to a vein in Roy’s chest. Jason has a hard time looking at his body, so he focuses on Rose instead. 

“Fucking terrified.” Rose laughs humorously. 

“Trust me, if they try anything I’ll shoot them myself.”

“You know I can hear you, right?”

-----

Rose isn’t sure what’s more surprising, the gleam in Roy’s eyes like he just woke up from a nap, or the desperate kiss Jason gives him when he takes his first breath. Or maybe it’s not surprising at all. She should have known from the way Roy always seemed to be in Jason’s thoughts--he always had a convincing lie, and maybe Rose wanted to believe him. Maybe she should feel angry--betrayed, even, but all she feels is relief.

Finally, Jason remembers they’re not alone, and he breaks off from sucking Roy’s face, his face as red as Roy’s hair. 

Roy, on other hand, is not surprised at all. “Missed me that much, huh?”

[safertokiss]

Concentrated Interests

A/N: Hola my friends! This fic was my entry for the Secret Fic Swap I participated in with a couple of close friends on here and it was written and dedicated to @nerdgirljen​. It was so much fun to write and thank you guys so much for all the support and love!

Pairing: SPENCER x READER

Category: Fluff and SMUT

Word Count: 3.3k

ENJOY:)

~~~

MASTERLIST

~~~

Spencer had never really understood the concept of soulmates or love at first sight.

In his mind, it defied pretty much every scientific law about human interaction out there and was simply a coping mechanism for those who were romantically unlucky. At least that was what he had thought until a certain tech analyst walked through the BAU’s doors and into his life. 

He was frozen. Totally and utterly enamored by the woman his eyes were currently attached to. He watched her stumble into the bullpen, a large box situated in her arms, seemingly impairing the entirety of her vision and coordination, evident by the way she kept bumping into things in her path. It wasn’t until she hit a particular desk corner and spilled the contents of the box, her belongings scattering across the floor, that Spencer broke out of his stupor and took action. 

“Woah there, let me help you with that!”, he exclaimed, immediately rushing to her side and starting to collect some of the fallen items to put back into the box.

“Oh, thank you so much. Gah, this is so embarrassing. I promise you I’m not always this uncoordinated and clumsy”, she explained with a nervous chuckle. After everything was picked up and they both had stood up from their crouched positions, she hurriedly straightened out her skirt before outstretching her hand. “Hi, I’m Y/n.” She immediately noticed the slight panic that crossed his features at her gesture and was momentarily confused.

“I-uh-I kind of don’t, um, do the whole hand shaking thing. Yeah, uh, the number of pathogens spread through a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to...oh god I’m sorry you didn’t ask for a full-out science lesson. It’s, um, really nice to meet you, I’m Reid. Doctor. Spencer”, he sputtered out nervously.

Chuckling softly, Y/n retracted her hand, opting to instead lightly nudge his shoulder. “Well Reid Doctor Spencer, it’s nice to meet you too”, a teasing smile adorning her face as she spoke. Spencer quickly felt a warm blush spread across his features at the absurdity of his introduction.

“S-sorry about that. What I meant to say is that my name is-”

“Pretty boy!”

Both of their heads swiveled towards the sound, searching for the source, before landing on a man across the room.

“Hotch needs us in the briefing room. Stop flirting with the new girl and get your ass in here!” They watched him walk away chuckling before turning back to each other.

“Pretty boy huh? Well I guess it’s fitting, I mean you do have really nice cheekbones and dimples. And your eyes are kind of beautiful. Not that I ummmm-not that I think you’re beautiful or anything, it’s just uhhh...um...I’m gonna stop talking now.” Spencer could feel the blush returning to his features, watching the same happen to her, from the frenzied rambling that had just poured from her lips, but he found it endearing on her and quite honestly, really adorable. 

“I-uh I gotta go, you know, um deal with that, but it was very nice meeting you”, he sputtered out, sending a small wave in her direction. She shyly giggled at his nervousness which was surely reflected on her end as well. “See ya around Reid Doctor Spencer.”

“Spencer. It’s um-it’s Spencer.”

“Spencer”, she repeated back softly, nodding him off with a gentle smile on her face.

~~~

Spencer Reid was in love. The longer she was around him the more he realized he was completely and utterly in love with her, all of her. She was perfect in his eyes, intelligent, funny, a bit nerdy and just so adorable. The problem was just that he had absolutely no idea how to tell her how he felt. He had never really been the type to express his feelings to someone, especially to a girl as beautiful as Y/n. 

The female species wasn’t exactly his strong suit and he was very aware of that fact, painfully aware. However, he stayed hopeful that someday soon he’d muster up the courage to express his affinity for her. Realizing that today was definitely not that day, Spencer tried to push his conflict to the back of his brain so he could try to get some work done. Not before noticing that Y/n was slightly late, though.

Less than a minute after he noticed her absence, she came bursting into the bullpen with the largest grin adorning her features, an obvious pep in her step. Spencer watched as she skipped over to the rest of the team who were gathered around Emily’s desk, close enough where he could pretty much hear the majority of the words exchanged and profile their reactions.

He heard JJ ask what was making her so chipper this morning, and he chuckled softly to himself as he heard her immediately start rambling about whatever had her so elated. 

“Oh my god guys, you’ll never believe it! So a couple of weeks ago a good friend of mine asked me to help her with her website, because well...tech geek and all, so I got to mess around with all the software and went crazy! I was able to fiddle with the source code a bit and authorize a super high CRO and SEO to get her website out there. Not to mention all the growth hacking I was able to curate! Cool right?”

Y/n stopped to take a breath and noticed that the entirety of the team was staring at her with vacant expressions on their faces. She looked on with widened eyes as she asked, “What?”

“CRO?”, JJ questioned. Morgan awkwardly chuckled out a similar questioning tone, “SEO?” Of course that left Emily to bring up the rear. “Did I hear growth hacking in there?”

Her face scrunched up in confusion at all the questions that had just been hurled her way so suddenly. “Huh?”

“Baby girl we have absolutely no idea what any of the things you just mentioned are or what they do”, Morgan explained with a sympathetic smile on his face, as the other members nodded in agreement.

Spencer watched as Y/n’s face quickly morphed into one of utter disappointment at the knowledge that her colleagues had no clue what she was going on about. She had seemed so excited when she entered the bullpen earlier so he assumed she was probably very much looking forward to getting to talk all about it with her friends.

“Oh...that’s ok. Sorry for bothering you guys, sometimes I just get a little too excited and tend to ramble. I’ll um-I’ll talk to you guys later.” Y/n flashed them a small smile before making her way over to her desk, situated across the room near Spencer. 

“Hey Spence”, she shyly waved as she passed, a deflated look on her face. Trying to lift her spirits at least a little, he returned her gesture with a huge grin and wave, happy to see her smile brighten a bit at his enthusiasm. 

Once she was seated and facing away from him, he immediately found himself feeling overwhelmingly upset over her predicament. He hated seeing her look so defeated and down, she didn’t deserve to ever feel like that. She was simply too angelic for those kinds of feelings to permeate her mind. 

Spencer wished more than anything that he knew what she was talking about so she could go to him. He’d let her ramble to him for hours on end if it meant he could listen to her melodic voice and see her beautiful face up close. 

All of sudden Spencer slapped his hand against his head and groaned, “Of course you dipshit”, before pulling up a couple tabs on his computer.

For the next few hours his work was forgotten as he studied and learned pretty much everything there was to know about technical analysis and the programming that Y/n seemed so ecstatic about, anxious to give her, at last, a companion to discuss her passion with. 

~~~

“See you later Reid!”

Spencer’s head snapped up as he heard the people around him saying their goodbyes and goodnights, realizing that he had been distracted by his screen the entire day and that it was already time to go home. He watched as his friends walked out together, all laughing about something that Morgan had said, before noticing movement in the corner of his eye. 

As he turned his head he noticed that the only person who was still there in the bullpen with him was Y/n, and she was staring at the posse that had just exited the room, a longing look plastered across her features that broke his heart. Taking a deep breath and deciding it was now or never, he rose up from his seated position and made his way over to her, hoping that he had learned enough to lighten her mood.

“Hey there!”, he exclaimed when he had found himself right behind her. As soon as the words started escaping his lips, she jumped in her seat, her hand flying to her heart.

“Jesus Christ Spence! You scared the complete shit out of me!”

Chuckling softly at her overreactive response, he moved to sit on her desk, facing her heavily breathing sitting figure. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just saw you that you were still here and was wondering why you hadn’t left with everyone else?” She quickly looked down and blushed at his questioning, embarrassed of her answer.

“Oh I-um they just looked like they were having a lot of fun and I didn’t really want to interrupt so I thought I’d stay back for a little bit to-uh finish up some stuff.” Once she finished her unconvincing explanation, Spencer leaned back a bit and studied her. While this was something he found himself doing often, always getting distracted by her spectacular figure, he focused on her body language more than anything, noticing the dark circles underneath her eyes.

“Y/n, you look absolutely exhausted. Have you even been sleeping lately?”, he asked, genuine concern laced within his words.

“Y-yeah I haven’t really. I’ve kind of been pretty preoccupied in the last few days helping out a friend. It’s really fun, but it’s also very time consuming”, she stuttered out, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Oh right! I had heard you mention that earlier today! That must be awesome getting to basically build your own website!”

“I swear I feel like a kid in a candy store doing that kind of stuff. I just find it so relaxing and exciting at the same time!”

“I totally get it. I was really impressed with how well you were able to manipulate the site’s conversion rate optimization-did you know that a site’s CRO and SEO are considered as two of the most essential tools required to run a thriving website or online business. It’s actually astounding how much the results differ between competition depending on their efficiency.”

All Y/n could do, while Spencer rambled on and on about her most passionate subjects, was sit there in complete awe. The sound of the tech-geeky words that spilled from his beautiful lips was simply orgasmic. Never had she met someone who seemed as enthused as her when it came to all her technical endeavors, and she didn’t know exactly how to react. Her biggest crush on the entire planet was sitting in front of her spouting off facts like they were going out of style.

However, amidst all the wonder that circulated through her being, confusion washed over her.

“Wait hold up! What’s going on Spence?”

“Uhhh, what do you mean?”, he questioned shyly, a blush coating his face.

Narrowing her eyes at him she expanded her questioning. “I’ve known you for months now and I can guarantee I have never once heard you mention anything even remotely technical. In fact I’ve heard you explain time and time again how confused you are by the complexities of the simplest of technology. Spill, pretty boy”, she demanded, maintaining eye contact with him.

Figuring out that he had been caught, he shyly lowered his head as the blush on his face deepened, embarrassment coursing through his veins. “I-I noticed how excited you were this morning when you came parading into the office, the wide grin that adorned your face, the skip in your step. And I heard you ramble on and on about your friend’s website and you just seemed so damn happy and then they basically just shut you down right away because they didn’t understand and I-uh I hated seeing you like that and wanted you to have someone to talk to. So I spent all day today researching and learning so you could have someone to talk to, so you wouldn’t feel alone. I-I’m sorry if that’s creepy or if it’s too-”

Spencer was suddenly cut off mid-sentence as lips smashed against his own, effectively shutting him up. His eyes immediately widened at the bold action, before he melted into the kiss, desperately responding to her fervent advances with an equal passion. 

Y/n moaned into his mouth as his tongue probed at her wet lips, begging for entry. The feeling of their tongues entangling was euphoric and they both wanted, needed more. Spencer gently grabbed her and, turning so they were both facing it, lifted her onto the desk and stood between her legs. As the kiss deepened, their hands began to tear at each other’s clothing, Y/n hastily undoing his tie and dress shirt as he all but ripped off her blouse, groaning at the sight. 

“God Y/n you’re so fucking beautiful.” He watched her eyes roll back into her head at his words as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even closer. “Please Spence, I need you. I need you so much baby.” His eyes sparkled at her desperate plea, mirroring her need wholeheartedly.

Backing away slightly he unzipped her skirt and dragged it down her legs along with her panties, quickly reaching up to also unclasp her bra. “You’ve got me baby, you’ve got me.”

She surged forward and reconnected their lips, her hands weaving their way into his hair and tugging hard. The groan that escaped his throat lit her body on fire and further ignited her need for the man in front of her. His hands, that had been cupping her face, drifted downward stooping to briefly toy with her breasts before reaching his intended destination.

She moaned loud and deep as his hands cupped her sex, gently rubbing his fingers against her. He could feel her buck her hips slightly, searching for more. Receiving the message loud and clear, he inserted his pointer finger into her, reveling in the throaty groans that poured from her lips. As he added more digits into her and gently rubbed her clit, their lips moved rapidly against each other.

Y/n needed more, letting her hands lower to the obvious bulge that was straining against his slacks, palming him incessantly. Moaning hoarsely, he pulled away and quickly undid his pants, desperate for some sort of relief. As he stepped out of his slacks and boxers, he watched her eyes widen as they took in the sight in front of her.

“Woah.” He nervously chuckled at her response.

“Uh t-thanks?”

Giggling at his uncertainty she reached out and dragged him in once again, feeling his swollen tip bump against her, both of them moaning at the euphoric feeling. Realizing how fast things had moved, he pulled back slightly to search her eyes. “Are you sure baby?”

Falling even more in love with him, her smile widened as she nodded. “I am so very sure Spence. I-I love you.” She watched the grin that spread across his face at her confession.

“God Y/n, I love you so fucking much.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he lined himself up at her entrance and swiftly thrusted into her dripping heat. The overwhelming feeling caused both of them to let out matching groans of pleasure, Y/n latching onto Spencer and wrapping her arms around his shoulders to get a grip. Once he was sure she was ok, he started slowly thrusting in and out of her, soon setting a steady pace.

“Oh Spencer! You feel so perfect inside of me! So, so good!”, you exclaimed, cries of pleasure leaving your mouth.

“Baby you’re so warm and tight around me, I love you so much!” 

“I love you t-too!”

He gradually increased his already brutal thrusts, Y/n feeling herself fastly approaching the brink of ecstasy at the hands of the resident genius. Leaning back on her elbows, Spencer used the opportunity to pound even harder into her wanting body, his own release just around the corner. 

“Are you going to cum for me pretty girl?” She couldn’t control herself after hearing his dirty words, unaware that he was capable of such a thing, feeling her eyes roll back once again. She nodded fervently, about to crash over the edge. All rational thought was out the window once his fingers found her throbbing clit, rubbing incessantly, catapulting her into her climax, her pussy clenching around his rigid cock as she came.

“Oh my god Spencer!”

Her reactions were simply too much for him, groaning and moaning uncontrollably, finding his thrusts sputtering out of control as his cock twitched deep inside of her, quickly reaching his highly anticipated orgasm. She felt his seed fill her up completely as he panted out her name over and over again, both of them coming down from their highs, breathing deeply.

“Wow. Fucking wow,” she blissfully sung, a wide grin coating her lips.

“Y/n, baby, that was insane. You’re insane.”

He helped her off the desk so they could redress and finally leave the office, noticing how late it had gotten. They couldn’t help themselves from sending each other giddy smiles as they put on their clothes and eventually made their way down to their respective cars. 

Neither one of them seemed ready to leave each other just yet, some unspoken feeling crackling in the air between them. Taking the initiative, Y/n leaned forward, gently connecting their lips in a kiss that held the same passion from earlier, but was much more relaxed and romantic. Pulling back after a few moments, Y/n’s eyes sparkled up at Spencer’s as she spoke.

“Spence, what you did earlier...no one’s ever done something like that for me. You have no idea how much it means to me that you would go out of your way just to make me feel comfortable and happy.”

“Y/n, I promise you I wanted to wholeheartedly. Nothing matters more to me than your happiness. I just-I just love you so damn much. I think I have since you walked in and dropped all your shit on the floor”, he said chuckling. 

“Heyyyy, that was one time jerk”, she defended, a matching chuckle evident in her voice. “But I know what you mean. I think I’ve loved you since you introduced yourself as Reid Doctor Spencer, that memory will forever be embedded in my mind.” She couldn’t stop the light giggle that fell from her lips at the thought of their first meeting.

Meeting her eyes, suddenly a bit shy, he gently cupped her face, “What if, from now on, I introduced myself as your boyfriend?”, he asked cautiously, anxiously waiting to see how she reacted to his proposition. Instead of answering right away she jumped forward, throwing her arms around his neck and connecting their lips once more.

“I would love nothing more, my gorgeously intelligent boyfriend.”

Taglist: @hopebaker​ @pastathighs​ @psychedellic-phase​ @gloryekaterina​ @sleepysnapesnake​ @racharr​ @etherealgubler @furiouspartyrebelhoagie​ @andiebeaword​ @liaabsurd​ @cielo1984​ @starkeybaby​ @victomizedbyreginageorge​ @rainsong01​ @moonlight-jukebox​ @gretaamyk​ @httpnxtt​ @rachelxwayne​ @watermelonstyl​ @goldnratio​ @peakyblinderficrecs @cheyxminds​

[writtenjewels]

Escort part 3

Part One, Part Two

He couldn't believe he just did that. If the feel of John's lips wasn't so fresh on his own, Kaidan would wonder if he had just imagined it. But no, he definitely kissed John and then panicked and jumped into the nearest taxi. He felt ridiculous but asking the driver to turn around seemed almost worse so he sat in the car and waited to get home.

This evening was just supposed to be hanging out with John like they did the first time the man acted as his escort. They flirted a bit but Kaidan found he was comfortable doing that with John. There was something friendly and teasing about it. And he just liked talking to John. The man was interesting-- confident, charming, funny, easy-going. Attractive qualities in Kaidan's mind.

I don't get paid to be attracted to you. Kaidan didn't usually go into these sorts of things so impulsively, but he had then. He sighed, paying the driver as he got out of the car. Hopefully John would just forget about the whole thing. When he opened his door Kaidan found he had a message waiting for him.

Kaidan, you left in a hurry. Wanted to make sure you got home all right. J

He looked at the time stamp and saw that John sent it while Kaidan was in the taxi. He didn't know where the man lived but didn't think he could've possibly gotten there that quickly. John must have used a public terminal to send the message. Kaidan stared at the words a long time trying to think of how to respond.

I'm home now. Sorry to worry you.

That was simple enough. He needed to do something to calm down, though. He started with undressing: removing his shoes, pulling off his jersey, and setting the kettle to make some herbal tea. He heard a chime letting him know he had a new message.

It's all right. You aren't the first one to panic.

Great. Not really the impression he wanted to leave this on. But Kaidan couldn't really explain what happened to himself, let alone John. Maybe he did panic, but not for the reasons John was implying. Kaidan's sexual preference never really depended on gender; he was more attracted to personality. If he had to pin down a reason, it was because it hit him just how often John was probably kissed. And there was proof right there in the message: “You aren't the first one to panic”. Meaning John was kissed before by guys who ran for those other reasons.

I didn't pay you.

There, that felt safe. The tea was ready so Kaidan poured a cup and took a sip. The warm liquid felt soothing. He got through the whole cup before John sent a new message.

Feed me and we'll call it even.

Kaidan laughed at the words. Yes, he could do that, and he sent a message saying as much. He poured another cup of tea feeling like maybe this evening wouldn't become a complete disaster, after all. John sent him another message. Was he just sitting somewhere with a public terminal? Or maybe between the messages he made it home, after all. Kaidan opened the message and his heart stopped.

Coming over.

Shit, John was coming now? That wasn't what Kaidan meant! He almost sent a message telling John not to come but stopped. It was just a meal; they did as much already. Kaidan took a breath and hunted down something to put on as he had no intention of welcoming John in his underwear. He felt decently put together by the time he heard the knock at his door.

“Nice outfit,” John commented when Kaidan answered the door. It was really hard to tell if the man was teasing or being sincere. Kaidan stepped aside to allow him entrance.

“I hope you like stir fry, because I haven't been to the store in a while.”

“It's fine.” John settled on the couch. “Mind if I turn on some music?” Kaidan waved his permission and John started messing around with the audio system. He eventually settled on something he liked. Kaidan listened as he threw together some things for their stir fry.

“That's a nice song,” he mused.

“It's called 'Vigil',” John told him. “It's one of my favorites.” Kaidan let the music drift over him as he cooked. He felt even more ridiculous now for running off. Being around John was so easy. It was the reason the man came to mind when Kaidan ended up with the extra ticket. A few more songs played and the two silently listened. But to Kaidan it didn't feel like an uncomfortable silence.

He divided the food onto two plates and poured some water glasses. He set them up at the table across from each other. A new song started playing.

“What's this one called?” he wondered.

“Ah.” John froze halfway into his seat. “I'm not sure.” He sank down and became very intent on eating. Kaidan listened thoughtfully. There was something about this song he couldn't quite put his finger on. He tried to make note of the tune so he could look it up later. “You're a good cook,” John spoke up.

“Don't get home-cooked meals often?”

“I'd say never. I never knew my parents so no 'home' growing up, and I've lived off military rations ever since I joined the Alliance. Except for when I'm on shore leave and then I just go out.”

“You're an orphan?” John had said it so casually that Kaidan felt expressing any sympathy wasn't necessary. “Where did you grow up?” he asked instead.

“The streets, mostly. Didn't always have a roof over my head. It's still a little weird sometimes when I'm off-duty and I can just go to the same place to sleep.” Kaidan took a bite to save himself from trying to find anything to say to that. “Sorry,” John apologized, “I don't usually get so personal with people.”

“Why not?” Kaidan wondered. “They get pretty personal with you, don't they?”

“True,” John agreed. “Just makes the job easier.” Kaidan mulled this over while they continued the meal. He gathered the dishes when they were done and set them in the washer to clean.

“So,” he ventured. “Have you ever dated someone? I mean, without being paid?”

“Sure. I wouldn't really call my first sexual experience a 'date'; just messing around with another street kid. Had a girlfriend when I first enlisted. Then I was with this guy for a while. Neither of them were very serious. I'm liking this one so far, though.”

“This... what?” Kaidan blinked at him.

“The date,” John clarified. Kaidan gaped at him. Was John teasing him? “Kaidan, you asked me out and kissed me. It's been a few years but I'm pretty sure that's a date.”

“It wasn't... intentional.” But shit, John was right. John shifted a little closer while still giving Kaidan some room.

“I won't do anything you don't want, Kaidan. But I would like to kiss you goodnight.”

“All right,” he agreed, though he didn't want the evening to be over already. John leaned into him and pressed their lips together. His mouth was just firm enough for Kaidan to feel the shape but soft enough for him to move his own lips in response. This time the contact lasted as their lips moved against each other in a gentle exploration.

It kept going, breaking only long enough for them to take quick breaths. Kaidan tried not to think about the other people who kissed John like this before. This night was his. He was a little surprised John was still keeping a distance between them. Kaidan rested his hands on John's arms, moving them down to the man's wrists and pulling his hands forward to touch Kaidan's body.

“Kaidan,” John breathed. “I'm prepared for you if you want me.”

“You're 'prepared'?” Kaidan echoed.

“To be fucked. Sometimes my clients--”

“John,” Kaidan interrupted, “I really don't want to hear about your clients right now.” John gave him a soft peck on the mouth as apology and they fell into the embrace again. “You were hoping I would want to fuck you tonight?” Kaidan asked after a few more minutes of kissing.

“I thought about fucking you, too,” John admitted. “Whichever way you like it.”

“Which way do you like it?” Kaidan countered. He moved his lips to brush the stubble along John's jaw. The other man tilted his head up slightly and Kaidan moved his mouth lower. John let out a soft groan and shuddered slightly.

“Kaidan.” This time he said the name in a groan. “I want you to fuck me, please.” Kaidan paused the kisses, pressing his face against the crook of John's neck. There was no denying a part of him wanted to.

“Just kiss me, John.” He felt the man's fingers gently grip his chin and lift his face up to do just that. John was such a good kisser. Of course he is. Kaidan felt a slight shift as he bumped up against a cabinet. They hadn't even made it out of the kitchen yet.

“Couch?” John suggested. Kaidan let out a hot breath.

“Do all your goodnight kisses take this long?”

“I thought you said you didn't want to hear about my clients,” John hummed. His eyes met Kaidan's, the shade of those blue orbs looking slightly darker. Kaidan swallowed and closed his eyes so he could think properly.

“Yeah. I... I'm just nervous, and I was teasing you to lighten the mood.” He felt John's fingers touch his chin and tilt his head for yet another kiss. He could get addicted to that.

“To be honest, Kaidan, I'm keeping this going because I don't want the night to end.”

“Me neither,” he gulped.

“So couch?” He made some sort of noise that John must have taken as agreement. Still holding Kaidan, John maneuvered them over to the couch. Kaidan sank down onto the cushions and John immediately slid down in his lap, fingers pushing through his hair as their lips connected again. Shit.

“Slower,” Kaidan gasped. John slid back off again without protest and they resumed from there. “I'm not ready for that yet.”

“Lucky I like kissing you,” John commented. Kaidan laughed shakily. John grinned and tilted his head back in a silent plea. Kaidan still didn't want to think too much about John with other people, especially fucking other people. He pressed his lips against John's throat and worked the flesh so the marks he left behind stood out just a little more.

[jjk-anime-horray]

Monster: The Finale

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

Chapter Summary: you finally figure out what was happening between yourself and Megumi, but not without the help of a certain someone.

Trigger Warning: Heavy Cussing

Previous Chapters: Part One, Part Two

A common occurrence when someone contemplates their own feelings is that they often tend to deny them, and that was what exactly you were doing with yourself.

Denial is often easier than facing the truth is these types of situations, or any type of situation that requires romantic feelings. It's a safety net that any smart person develops to guard themselves from possible rejection, unrequited feelings, and overall emotional trauma.

The second step after denial in this messy process called developing a crush and love is realization.

Usually in a normal circumstance the third and fourth steps of this crazy process would self and serene acceptance, then swift confrontation and or confession if there wasn't any conflict, but you were not normal by any means you were a jujutsu sorcerer. Your definition of acceptance is having a silent mental breakdown in your room.

Some normal thoughts of a person at stage three would be what should I do next? Should I confess or is it only a mini crush that would pass quickly? Maybe I should ask them on a date. Am I their type?

But in comparison these were some of yours: fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, shit fuck fuck, oH mY GOd! wHy?!?!?!?!?! Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!! ugggggg, i want to vomit, this is gross, maybe if I eat enough food i'll forget that this ever happen.

One thing that your past didn't allow was to develop any crushes before this really, or feelings for anyone, or genuine bonds with people, you were literally were clueless to this sort of thing, and most social queues. You may be able to create illusions, but right now you can't create the image that everything is going to work out in your favor. Megumi hated you right?

Luckly for you someone just busted there way into your room to snap you out of your thoughts.

"(Y/N)! I was looking for you everywhere! Baka! why didn't you answer any of my texts?!?" Boomed the angry voice of the currently agitated Nobara, but her face of anger turned into one of concern once she saw you crouched down in the corner of your room. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, no, I don't know, I just had a little freak out session about the stupidest thing."

"It couldn't have been that stupid if it left you a complete mess." She says this in a littler bit of a bean tone, but you know she means anything but ill intent when she sits down next too you and starts rubbing your back caringly, trying to comfort you. "You know I still can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong." The orange haired girl vocalized.

"It still doesn't change the fact that it's dumb."

"Not dumb."

"Dumb."

"I can't make the judgement of if it's dumb or not if you don't tell me what it is."

"Okay, it's because I like someone." After that you heard a little snicker escape from you friends mouth. "Told you it's dumb."

"Gaining feelings for someone can be stressful.......especially if it's your first time ever doing so like in your case."

"It's a bit childish."

"It is a bit childish, but hey at least yourself aware!" She exclaimed to try to lighten the mood. "What was the part of gaining feelings for someone that stressed you out so much?"

"Because the person I like hates my guts."

"That's bullshit! No one here hates your guts, unless you've been betting up people behind my back."

"They still don't like me at all though."

"Still doubt it."

"It's Megumi."

... ... ... Silence ... ... ...

PFFFFFFT, HAHAHHAHHHAHAHHAHA was the noise that came from beside you, followed by your orange haired friend trying to pull herself together.

"What's so funny Nobara?!"

"You caused all this drama for yourself, worrying that the person you like hates you, but they clearly like you. I'm sorry it's just hilarious."

"I don't understand, we don't really talk that much, and whenever we do it's not for that long, I don't understand how he could like me at all."

"My friend, he doesn't talk to you that much not because he hates you it's because he doesn't know how to talk to you and he gets nervous. He told me himself that he likes you, and how he can't bring himself to talk to you."

"Wait, what?!? I feel like Yuji would have told me something like this because I asked him to help me figure out why Megumi didn't like me and he had no idea."

"It's because he didn't tell Yuji, he didn't want you to know, and plus do you think Yuji can actually keep a secret?"

"Alright fair that makes sense, but why did he look like he wanted to kill me when I was talking to Yuji."

"Dude."

"What?"

"You're so oblivious it's not even funny. He was jealous you dummy! He wasn't glaring at you he was glaring at Yuji."

You didn't even now what to think. It was so confusing and made complete sense at the same time. It explains a lot of other things too.

"What should I do now?"

"It's up to you really, but personally I would reccomend confessing to him, because just between you and me, he's just as dense as you are in this topic. I hate to say this to you, but both of you suck at the social thing."

You spring up with your heart filled with all sorts of emotions. Joy, excitement, nervousness, curiosity were all examples of the emotions you were feeling. Fueling you like a kid who just ate a bunch of candy you ran off to talk to Megumi with just as much happiness as a child in a candy shop.

Mystery solved I guess, right? Now you just have to close the case between you and the one who cause this, Megumi Fushiguro.

[writefightandflightclub]

Small joys (Santi x reader)

Summary: request where reader is insecure about having smaller breasts, but Santiago adores them just the way they are!

Rating: 18+ only, please

Author’s note: I’m doing soft blurbs this week bc you all deserve a hug from one of our fave fictional husbands. Let’s all destress and be comforted one blurb at a time, okay? (I’m doing these quickly to complete as many as I can, so they’ll be a bit scrappy, please forgive!). Also, please know that Santi’s giving some love to small breasts in particular right now, but I mean zero detriment to any other boobs. ALL shapes and sizes and configurations are beautiful. Yes, yours are! Own it and believe it! Hi, I have small boobs and I love them and I’m not sorry, and please love your small boobs too because Santi would want you to but mainly for yourself. 

Warnings: there’s nudity and touching but it’s not sexual per se, but to be safe this has an 18+ rating. Big focus on talking about and touching breasts, and implied prior sexual activity. Body insecurities. Language.

Santi lies on the bed as you straddle him, sitting upright with your thighs wrapped tightly around his hips. He gazes up at you in the soft morning light, showering you with compliments as his eyes and his fingertips traverse lovingly over ever inch of your skin he can possibly see and touch.

“The most beautiful thighs,” he says in a breathy, soft morning voice. “Sexy hips. Look at this pretty stomach...”

You’re smiling gently, still sleepy, as he lavishes you with praise, his fingertips trailing higher up your torso, your flesh rippling where he smooths over the contours of you. 

“These perfect fuckin’ tits,” he says, reaching up to swipe the pad of each of his thumbs over your nipples.

When he says that, when he touches you there, your bubble suddenly bursts. Your smile instantly drops, and you wrap you arms around your torso, protecting yourself. Covering yourself. You know it’s silly to be insecure around him, but here you are. You still feel insecure no matter how much attention Santi lavishes on your chest, or how often he engages in loving -and sometimes unspeakable- acts involving them. You can’t get out of your head that your breasts are just too... small. 

Especially after something you overheard him say last night while the boys were round for fight night. Something you’re trying to forget.

Feeling dejected and gloomy, you roll off of him and huddle quietly under the blankets by his side, Santi looking entirely puzzled and mentally retracing his steps. 

“What did I say?” he asks, brow furrowing, his hand rasping over his stubbled jaw. “Dollar for the swear jar? That it?”

“No... I just. I’m not feeling good about my tits today, okay?” You tug the blanket up and tuck it firmly beneath your armpits.

Santi props himself up on his elbow and turns on to his side, leaning over you in concern.

“Why the fuck not?” he asks, his tone a lot more abrasive than he intended.

A swear jar would make you rich, you realise.You file that for later.

“I just... they’re too small.”

Santi looks at you as though you’re talking utter nonsense.

“Too small for what?” he asks, thoroughly confounded, and his eyebrows shooting up. 

“For you,” you say softly, your voice hollowed out, tears of insecurity balling in your eyes as your stare fixes on the ceiling.

“Hold up. Your tits are fuckin’ glorious. Did I do something to make you think...”

You interupt him with a long, self-pitying sigh.

“No. You’re always nice about them, I just. Wouldn’t you prefer some heaving, bouncing bazungas? Some massive, juicy tits to slap you about the face or rest your head on like a pillow or...”

You look at him and you can see him trying his utmost to quell his amusement at the phrase “bouncing bazungas”. He does his best, bless him, but a snicker sneaks past him lips. You throw him a half-serious scowl in response and tighten your grip on the blanket.  

“Honey. I’ve gone this long without being slapped about the face, I think I’ll manage.”

“Manage,” you repeat dejectedly through your teeth, the word barely audible. You don’t want him to manage. To settle.

Santi scrubs the smirk from his face when your mood still refuses to lighten, and instead he changes tack, gently tugging at the duvet which you still clench securely to your chest.

“Let me see ‘em then. Remind me what I’m working with? Please?”

You let him ease the blanket down inch by inch over your chest, and the mere sight of your breasts has a gulp bobbing down his throat. Has his tongue darting out over his lower lip. If only you could realise how much he loves them, but you are blind to it.

“These tits?” he says, as his fingertips gently stroke over your chest. “These hot little things, with these sweet, delicious little nipples? Soft under my hand?”

His touch is gentle, tender, as he brushes his fingertips over every inch of your breasts, around the softer skin at your nipple, over the hardened, sensitive pebble at the peak of you.

“Yeah. Exactly like I said,” he confirms. “These are perfect fuckin’ tits. Beautiful, hermosa. Perfect shape. Perfect size. Perfect to look at. To feel. With my fingers or my mouth. Perfect to..” his lips quirk into a smile and his eyebrow ticks up suggestively as he weighs up how crude to be so early on a morning. “... do things to... or on.”

His gaze becomes hungry as he thinks through the possibilities, but he behaves himself. Focusses on staring at the contours of you as though they are positively artful.

“You mean it?” you say, still glum and disbelieving. 

“Yes, baby.” Santi says sincerely, and now he has to try hard to tear his eyes away from your chest and look you in the eye. “Lucky that your breasts are small and humble, so I don’t confuse them with moutains,” he adds with a playful smirk, dipping to kiss the tip of your nose.

You scoff at the Shakira lyric and bat him playfully on the arm again. He looks happy to have teased a smile from you. Yet, he’s still not quite satisfied. He wants to root out any remaining insecurity. He hates to see you down on yourself, especially when he knows how entirely perfect you are. “What brought this on though, baby? You wanna talk about it?”

You nibble on your lower lip and stare at the ceiling again. You may as well just come clean. “I overheard you talking in the kitchen with the boys. And... and Benny said he was an ass man and you...”

Realisation dawns on Santi’s face as you speak. “I said I was a boob man,” he nods.

You look back at him and nod softly in return, as his fingertips gently trace nonsense shapes into your skin. You shrug, as if that’s the end of it. As if he’s been found out a liar, because how could these be enough for him if that is the case?

“Honey, holy shit, that’s hilarious,” Santi says, openly laughing at you now.

You scowl at him in offense this time. “It’s not funny!”

“No, honey. It is. Because I was never a boob man. Not until I met you.”

Oh. Oh well. That is kinda funny.

You whip your head towards him to examine his handsome face for sincerity, but he looks entirely truthful. As honest as he ever does when he tells you how beautiful you are to him. You suppose you should believe him when he tells you how much he loves your breasts. When he tells you how much he thought about them when you first started dating, and before. About how much he loves to do things to them and how good it makes you feel when he does. And, if nothing else, you should hold on to the simple fact that Santi loves them because they’re a part of you, and he loves everything about you, inside and out.

“Really?” you say, your insecurities finally beginning to ebb away, a smile beginning to split your face. 

Santi nods. “What did I tell you, baby? Perfect. Perfect fuckin’ tits.” His eyes dip to admire them all over again.

You finally smile and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Holds you close to him. Santi really does think you’re perfect. And he’ll never let you forget it, especially in those moments you can’t quite see it for yourself. 

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtbastian one-shot - “Cake by the Ocean” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Kurt is having a problem finding jeans that fit, and Sebastian is being his usual helpful self. (1336 words)

Notes: So, yeah - skater's ass is a huge problem when trying to buy jeans XD Also, I named this one-shot after the song since it plays all the time now at the rink ;)

Part 70 of Outside Edge

Read on AO3

"Babe? Oh, ba-abe?" Sebastian sings, raising his voice so he can be heard over his boyfriend's groaning. "Why do you insist on torturing yourself like this?"

"I'm not torturing myself... urgh! I'm... grrr... on a mission!"

"Be that as it may, if it hasn't happened by now, it's not gonna."

"Way... to stay... positive," Kurt growls.

"Exactly. I'm positive this is not gonna happen."

Kurt huffs, shoving aside his boyfriend's unnecessary negativity and bracing himself for the exertion to come. He blows out three times through teeth clenched behind a Chanel logo mask, then sucks in and tugs hard. He holds his breath, tenses his abs, and squeezes his tush, pulling with all his might until his biceps bulge and his elbows shake with fatigue.

It doesn't work. Not an inch. But he's far from giving up.

He refuses to admit Sebastian might be right.  

He can't be. Not here. Not in Kurt's sanctuary.

"You've gotta stop this, Kurt! You're going to hurt yourself!"

"Passion... is... pain!"

"I don't need you dislocating your knee three weeks before your next qualifier!"

"It's not like I'm... nnn... attempting to parkour up the Empire States Building! I'm just... mmph... trying on a pair of jeans!"

"We've talked about this a hundred times though! You're not going to find anything off the rack. Not with that cake you're packing."

Kurt grunts, snuffling like a pig, then his obscene noises skid to a halt. "Nice."

"Skater's ass is a thing, babe. It exists. And Goddamn... " Sebastian whistles low, picturing Kurt in his latest costume - blood-red and completely blinged out Spandex clinging to his perfectly round rear tighter than his own friggin' skin, and those delightful, flesh-colored mesh cut-outs, strategically placed... Sebastian usually cringes at the sexualized costumes some skaters wear. But when it comes to Kurt, his ass gets a pass. "You have definitely got one."

"You've bought jeans off the rack before," Kurt laments, steering the conversation away from graphic discussion about his butt. Sebastian has no filter, and there are children in the other dressing room stalls. "And... ngh... Blaine has, too!"

"That was dumb luck."

"I want to get lucky!" 

An uptight mom glares in their direction. She covers her precious boy's ears and stomps away in disgust, but Sebastian's knees buckle.

"Keep making those noises," he mumbles, sucking in his lower lip like he's kissing Kurt, "and you will."

"What?"

"Uh... " Sebastian clears his throat. "It helps when you have a personal shopper and a tailor on call. There's no shame in having your shit altered, by the way."

"I guess. It just seems so... mmph... high-maintenance for a pair of jeans."

Sebastian raises both eyebrows. "And that's not you how?"

Kurt sighs. A moment of silence follows, then the pair of jeans he's been wrestling cartwheels over the top of the dressing room door. Sebastian catches them. He slides them onto an empty hanger and returns them to the rolling rack with Kurt's other rejects. 

"Are you going to help me? Or did you come just to insult me?"

"I'm not here to insult you," Sebastian says in a tone far from reassuring. 

"I'm finding that difficult to believe."

"I’m not!” Sebastian swallows to keep from chuckling. He shouldn't pick on Kurt. But he can't help it. Kurt makes it too easy. Sometimes Sebastian can be the worst. He can admit it. He’s not proud. “You said we could get a soft pretzel after."

"Ha-ha," Kurt says dryly.

“God, I miss soft pretzels.”

“Good to know.” Another pair of jeans fly over the door and nails Sebastian in the face. 

"Oomph!" Sebastian tosses the jeans aside with a comeback on deck but shelves it when he hears Kurt deflate. Sebastian leans against the door, squinting through the narrow slats. He spots Kurt slumped against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, staring at the floor. He looks so sad, Sebastian's snarky remark evaporates. "I'm sorry, Kurt. Believe it or not, I'm trying to lighten the mood."

"Buy some bleach and a 30 volume developer."

Sebastian smirks. "Very funny."

"No," Kurt grumbles. "Seriously. You're in desperate need of highlights. And you should consider doing something about those bangs. They're getting out of hand."

"No need to get personal."

"Sorry, not sorry. It's truth time."

"It’s heartbreaking to see you finally get out to do something you love and ending up depressed. Especially when I can make a phone call and order you three pairs of Gucci jeans that'll fit you like a glove and show up on your doorstep in less than a day."

"Trying the clothes on in the store is part of the fun." Kurt opens the door slowly. He sees Sebastian standing there, arm draped over the door frame, and maneuvers underneath. "It bums me out that I can find all the shirts I want, but I can't buy a single pair of pants to go with them. So if I want to wear a new outfit home, I either have to settle for the pants I wore here or go pantsless."

"And pantsless is a problem?"

"Yes. Pantsless is a problem."

"Pity," Sebastian says, hugging Kurt tight. 

The pants aren't the problem.

Well, maybe they are a little.

The problem is society's rush to return to normal that scares the hell out of Kurt.

The residents of Ohio have not handled the pandemic well, to say the least. Lima, in particular, is filled with anti-maskers and anti-vaxxers. Kurt is a germaphobe, and he's not fond of crowds - two of the worst things for a figure skater. Except for the occasional bout of boredom and not seeing his mom as often as he wanted, Kurt embraced quarantine. The mask mandate may have denied the world his alabaster skin and chiseled cheekbones, but he made the best of it, using his exquisite sewing skills to create masks that became the envy of every rink from there to London. He opened an Etsy shop, advertised on social media, and had orders up the whazoo from day one. Even with mask mandates relaxing, he still gets new requests every day.

Kurt reveled in his forced hermitage.

He enjoyed being locked away with Sebastian. 

Staying at Sebastian's house for the past year plus was like living in their own private paradise. There was no stress, no pressure. They had everything they needed and dealt with no one outside their bubble.

Even though Kurt launched right back into his routine as a figure skater and a coach the second the rinks opened again, Sebastian knows that going back terrifies him. But Kurt is resilient, one of the strongest guys Sebastian has ever met. He'll get back into the swing.

He just needs time.

"Is there anywhere else you'd like to try?"

Kurt leans into Sebastian's side, happy to have an inkling of his supportive boyfriend back. "No. If Nordies doesn't have what I want, no one will. I guess you were right."

"Oh no! Don't say that!" Sebastian says, giving Kurt a squeeze. "Nothing good comes from thinking I'm right."

"Don't worry. I don't really," Kurt jokes but with a smidge of defeat in his voice. 

Sebastian kisses Kurt on the top of the head. "You're a smart man."

"I don't think I could stuff my legs into another pair of pants if I tried. I feel like I've landed thirty triples in the past half hour."

"Are you, maybe, willing to try one more pair? For me?" Sebastian grins. "I know a pair of pants you can get off the rack that will fit. I promise."

"Yeah?" Kurt asks, skeptical but optimistic. "And what's that?"

Sebastian snorts, so from the start, Kurt knows his answer won't be good. "Jeggings."

Sebastian snuffles. Then he guffaws. Kurt shakes his head. He slips out from under Sebastian's arm and starts speed walking away. "You're sleeping alone tonight."

"Aw! Kurt! Don't be like that! I bet Adam Rippon wears jeggings! He's got cake, too!"

"I'm leaving now... "

[sconnie-doesnt-know]

Chapter 2

Characters - Reader, Ransom Drysdale, assorted OCs 

Word count - 3100

Warnings - Drinking, language, sexual content

A/N - Hope you enjoy the next installment of my Ransom series. Still setting things up in the chapter, but we’re moving along. For a while, there will be a good amount of heavy drinking and the questionable choices that go along with that, just FYI. Remember this is fiction and the acts are not recommended. They will also be acknowledged later if you are concerned. 

Feedback is wonderful, & if you notice any errors please let me know!

Dividers made by @firefly-graphics​

Chapter 1

You order drinks plus shots. 

“To another fucking week,” you salute with Whitney. It burns, and it’s sweet, and you just want it to act fast.

“Yeah, another one.” She grabs hers, salutes, and tosses it back back. She cringes for a few seconds, but once she recovers, she picks right up with half of a conversation you weren’t having. “So, are you gonna take someone home tonight?”

“You’re more worried about my sex life than your own.” You shake your head at her.

“After what that asshole did to you, you deserve all the good fucking. I’m just trying to find a good dick to help you forget.”

“Wow, that’s sweet in a weird way.” You shake your head again, but smile this time.

“Well, it’s true. I also don’t want to feel bad if I ditch you later for my own fuck buddy.” She wiggles her eyebrows like a cartoon villain. At least she’s giving you a warning this time and not just disappearing on you later.

“Jesus, Whit. Yeah okay.” You can’t help but laugh with her. “It’s just,” you survey the group around you, “You never really know what you’re gonna find at the end of the night.”

“Uhhh, yeah. That’s what having a one-night stand is...Oh hi.” She offers a dazzling smile to a cute guy pushing next to her at the bar.

You wait a few seconds for her attention to return before you mutter, “I am well aware.”

“So pick a partner and do-si-do. Come on, cowgirl,” she nudges you, nodding to the guy in the fraying straw hat next to you. Nothing seems to deter her.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you giggle. 

She smiles and shrugs. A few minutes pass as she looks you over, studying you.

“You’re being weird about this.”

“I know.” You nibble on the straw in your glass for a moment before getting to where your mind’s been stuck for hours. “So hey, that guy we hung out with? Ransom?”

“No.” She shakes her head hard from side to side, a slightly manic giggle coming out between the repeated, “No, no. No.”

“What?” you try to sound casual, indifferent, but she knows you too well. “I just want to know what his deal is.”

“You don’t,” she insists, shaking her head.

“Why? Did you sleep with him?” 

“No, I haven’t.” She pauses for a moment, you can see she’s actually thinking over her answer. “He’s just gonna get what he wants from you and push you away.”

“You do realize that’s exactly what you’ve been telling me to do? So I should screw someone, but not him...because that’s what he does?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait, are he and Michelle a thing? I don’t want any extra relationship drama.”

“Psshh, yeah, god knows you’ve had enough of that.” She stares off into the middle distance before shaking her head and focusing again. “No, they’re not together either, but please? Please? Just promise me you’re not interested in Ransom.”

“Okay, but why?”

“I don’t know, I guess I don’t really think you’re his type.” She lets the words hang, and you’re unsure how to interpret them until you finally settle on hurt. You physically recoil a bit when the sting of her words hits.

“Wow, ouch. What the hell does that mean?” You look down into your lap, looking yourself over really quickly and not finding anything major sticking out.

“I just don’t see it. Trust me, and tell me you’re not being serious with this.” 

Even with her strange and kind of harsh reaction, you can’t get rid of the swooping feeling you get in your stomach just thinking about him. So, you try to purse your lips to control the uncomfortable smile trying to break through. You want to assure your friend, but can’t lie to her either...at least not well. 

“I’m totally not,” you finally say with an awkward laugh behind it. Again, failing miserably to play off nonchalance. 

She sees it all and knows you’re full of shit. “No one will have any respect for you if you fuck around with him.” She says, matter-of-factly.

Where this is all coming from, you have no idea.

“You’re being mean and cryptic and I don’t like it. I’m not even saying that anything’s going to happen, but that sounds a little extreme, Whit. Come on,” you whine.

She rolls her eyes. “It’s not. Just find someone and ask him to buy you a drink. Look around, you can pick anyone, but I am not enabling you and Ransom,” she quickly adds.

You try to lighten the mood by teasing her about having standards, but can’t find much ground to stand on when she brings The Ex into the discussion. She’s really on a roll tonight and pulling no punches. It’s not what you wanted or needed from the night. You came out with a mission to have fun, so you take a deep breath and decide to be the bigger person.

“Hey Whit?”

She keeps her eyes on the bar in front of her, letting you know she’s still somewhat annoyed at you. “Yesss?”

“This week sucked. Let’s get trashed.” You sling your arms around her shoulders and shake her until she laughs with you. Her party-friend is back in action.

“Fuck. Yes.”

You struggle to go along with Whitney’s plan for your night, especially when the Cowboy and just about every other guy she pushes your way fail to keep your interest. Not that you’d never had a one-night stand, but just that lately they’d been pretty awful experiences and you wondered far too often lately what a life of celibacy would look like. It’s much easier to dismiss the guys and remember that at least your vibrator can get the job done.

Before last call you give in and you text Jeff. Yes, the Jeff with whiskey dick who left you high and dry last time as Whitney reminds you with a giggle. He sounds genuinely happy to hear from you again and promises to make up for last time which makes it seem worth it to give him another shot. He’s tall, fit, with long fingers and if you remember correctly, a decent enough dick.

He manages to stay hard this time around, and he takes his time feeling you up, but the two of you can’t find a rhythm that works. You finally bat his hand away and rub yourself off while he pumps sloppily into you. Afterward, he leans in for a kiss and you turn away to give him your cheek. Getting dressed, you give him a few non-committal answers when he asks about seeing you again, and at the end of it all, you’re most grateful that you didn’t take him to your place. 

You spread out alone in your own bed and think over Whitney’s words.

Whitney knows more than a few of your dirty secrets; the friendship between you two had blossomed quickly with your guard easily let down. She never really judged you, at least not openly, which left you swirling in doubt for days, obsessing over what would probably end up being nothing. 

What made you not his type - looks? Money? Another woman? She never really had a filter, but she was being so short on the topic of Ransom which made you think even harder, rooting through some more recent bad memories.

“Am I a bad person?” you ask Carrie during the week.

“What? No!”

You accept her answer with a nod, silently thinking.

“I wonder if I should just take a break.” When Carrie looks at you funny, you clarify, “Like, maybe I am finding these losers because I am not all that great myself? These guys are all just…”

“Babe, you’re meeting them at bars...with Whitney.”

You heave in a deep sigh, “I know. And she’s not that bad.” A humorless laugh escapes. “Maybe I am aiming too high or something?”

“There’s no such thing.” You see her shoulders shift, fire in her eyes and protective mode activated like she’s done a few times in staff meetings. “What happened?” she asks.

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

Whitney laughs when you tell her you’re thinking of taking a break.

“Was Jeff that bad? I thought you said he was good with his fingers.”

You look around, even if Whitney has forgotten she’s in public, you haven’t. No one else reacts though, thankfully.

“You’re such a bitch,” you sigh. She fakes offense which you ignore. “No, he wasn’t that bad, I just want to find a nice guy. I don’t know.”

Her already buzzed gaze moves somewhere over your shoulder, “Oh whoa, stop that thought. There’s a guy behind you that looks like he wants to bend you over right here. So,” she drags out, “How about we see how that goes and forget about Jeff, and nice for a while.”

She adjusts her own posture, subtly popping up her tits and tilting her chin down to offer him and enticing smile.

‘Jeff isn’t the problem,’ you think to yourself, but she’s already moving forward with her plan for your night. You toss back the shot she places in front of you and turn to check him out.

It’s not happening, even as tipsy as you currently are, this guy with the ironic mullet hovering next to you and trying to get handsy is not getting into your pants. You know it, Whitney knows it (even if she continues to flirt with his friend), hell - the people in the space station know it… but Mullet Guy is oblivious. It’s embarrassing. 

You sit there with your hands over half of your face, wishing he’d leave you alone, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Turning, you see a familiar pretty face surrounded by blonde hair.

“Do you need some help?” Michelle asks, eyeing the guy next to you.

You’re surprised she even recognized you, let alone approached you, but you’re desperate to take the help where you can get it. “Oh my god, yes.” 

She gives you a knowing grin, “You’ll find some of us in the corner booth in the back.”

“You sure?” you ask, still thrown off by the interaction and nearly stumbling off the bar stool. “What about Whitney?” 

“I’ll get her,” She gives you a little nudge. 

You slip past the guy hopelessly hitting on you, mumbling and hoping he doesn’t follow and head down the aisle alongside the bar until you reach the large, corner booth. A few faces look familiar, but when he looks up you consider turning back. Judging by his smirk, there’s no chance of that happening.

You raise your voice to be heard over the noise of the bar, “Um, Michelle sent me over,” your nerves turning it into a question rather than a statement.

Ransom raises an eyebrow like he’s about to ask a question, but nudges the people next to him to make them get up and make room for you.

“Oh, no that’s...I’ll just sit on the end.” You try to politely wave them off, but they’re already up.

“Come on in, sweetheart,” he invites you, arm thrown over the back of the seat and your heart beats double-time with just how much you want it wrapped around you. The two people who vacated their spots shift impatiently and you clumsily sit down and start to scoot over under your knee bumps into his, making you immediately stop and apologize.

“You here all alone?” he asks, swirling his drink, the ring on his pinky finger flashing in the light.

“Nah,” Michelle reappears and speaks up for you as she sets down a few glasses onto the table, “Whitney’s here, but she’s got some company. This lucky lady,” she points to you and continues with a light laugh in her voice, “Was just looking miserable with some idiot not taking a hint.”

“You should’ve just told him to fuck off.” Ransom says.

You look over the crowd, finding Mullet Guy waiting for you back at your seat. His eyes droopy from the liquor and Whitney swaying with his companion. 

“I know, I just don’t like doing that. Plus, uh, I think Whitney is trying to fuck his friend.”

“So leave her. She’s a big girl and can handle herself.”

After that he continues the conversation he was having with the others before you arrived, and once again, you sit there silently watching. 

If you can call anyone the leader in the group, it is Ransom. Watching the way the other guys at the table defer to him and how he responds to what they say makes it obvious. He knows it too, practically sitting here holding court at the big square booth. 

The conversation isn’t all that interesting, at least not to you. Some kind of pissing contest the guys are having involving some sports stats. Every now and again you hear them say something so blatantly wrong, but you don’t know them well enough to correct them. With the underhanded comments and passive aggressive insults, you can’t help but wonder if any of them are actually friends. Eventually, your attention wanders over the rest of the bar patrons.

“Am I keeping you from something?” Ransom startles you with how close he is, body still but eyes roaming. You suck in a deep breath, smelling the alcohol and his cologne which makes your mouth water.

“N-no, sorry,” you struggle to come up with an excuse for zoning out, “Just looking for Whitney.”

He tips his head, “She’s right where you left her.” You follow his line of sight, finding her easily. 

“Oh. Yeah.” 

The way his face goes impassive unsettles you, like it was the wrong answer. “We’re boring you. That’s alright. Let’s talk about you.”

“Not much that you’d be interested in, I think.” Whitney’s assertion that you’re not his type replays in your head

“I don’t know about that. I have a lot of interests.” He stares at you with this look on his face, like he’s listening to something funny, but his eyes are serious. It’s intimidating when combined with the way he’s lounged so comfortably next to you, taking up the space like he owns it and yours. His tone, and the little tickle from his fingers against your shoulder feels like flirting, and now your inner voice begs you to remember how to fucking flirt. ‘For the love of god, shake off the nerves and flirt with this gorgeous creature.’ You take a deep breath and try to sink into it.

“What do you want to know?” You ask, setting your elbow on the table and propping your face on your palm while you turn even further toward him.

One side of his face lifts almost into a smile. He starts with a few basic questions, finding out you’re not from the city, how long you’ve been around. He ignores what you ask in return, continuing with his rapid-fire questioning.

“How do you know that little brat?” he asks with a tiny flick in the direction of the bar.

“Whitney?” you chuckle and he nods, “Friend of a friend; she practically became attached at my hip once we started going out together.”

“A quiet little mouse like you and her? Really?”

“I promise you, I’m not always so quiet,” you challenge.

“See, now that is interesting. Think I’d like to see that,” he answers, eyes giving you a quick up-down in your seat.

In the seconds it takes for you to process that he is indeed flirting and you need to respond, the moment is broken by a high-pitched voice.

“There you are! You fucking ditched me.” Whitney practically howls at you. You feel like a child who got caught out after curfew as you see her eyes move between you and Ransom. “What’s happening here?”

The alcohol has settled enough to remove some of your tension. With that and her overdramatic reaction, trying to control the urge to giggle at being caught is impossible, so you bite down on your lips to keep the grin from your face. “Nothing,” you answer, poorly faking innocence.

Ransom’s eyes stay on you, you can feel it, but he talks to your friend, “We were just getting to know each other better.” He turns to look at her, “Sit down with us,” his tone almost sounding like an order.

“Getting to know each other?” she asks you pointedly. 

You can’t understand what her problem is with him, especially since he’s her friend. At this point, you’re too intrigued. It’s not like there’s any point in trying to deny that you’re attracted to him with half your body leaning into him like he’s a magnet, but for some reason you think you see real disappointment in her eyes. Biting your lip, you take a peek at him to find him waiting for your response; he’s already smug with the attention.

“Yeah.” 

“What about your break?” she spits out.

You feel too many people looking at you, but you can’t answer, too shocked that she’s put you on the spot like this.

“Remember?” she asks like you’re forgetful, “You’re taking a break because you’re looking for a nice guy.” She over-enunciates as she stares daggers at Ransom.

“Why don’t you get the stick out of your ass, Whitney. I’ve been nice all night, haven’t I sweetheart?” The hostility between the two makes your back go rigid, anxious for the moment to end and the spotlight to be directed anywhere else.

“I’m fine,” you tell her as firmly as you can.

She shakes her head at you, but sits down anyway, jumping right into flirty conversation with Eric who is sitting at the end of the booth, notably there without the girl from the other weekend.

“Hmm,” Ransom hums right against your ear, making your skin tingle. “I think someone just got in trouble.” He’s clearly amused and not sounding remorseful at all.

He makes a move then. It’s slight, but you feel him tuck you a little further under his arm. Part of you is glad Whitney is distracted, but the other part wants her to notice it and realize she might be wrong.

“I…yeah,” you stumble over your words, confused and flustered between the two of them. Chest tight and pulling in short breaths and stomach swooping with excitement, you internally scream, begging for him to make it worth it.