#okay i mean technically there's a case you could make here right

[cynthiav06]

I am so sorry op but I think it's more on the inverse side. Percy's powers are so in tune with him that even with limited time, he was able to access a large arsenal of them. Sure he hasn't specifically trained to fine tune his powers but unlike the other big three children who have all experimented their powers before, he always ends up in mortal peril everytime he has to come up with something new. So unlike others who have kind of tried and tested and put a few limits on their powers, Percy just goes with it. He doesn't think about whether he can or not, it's always a case of "I must".

Iapetus is going to kill Thalia and Nico, so I have to find a way to stop him. But I am half poisoned and bruised, I can't fight him. Oh okay so I will just use the rivers in Underworld for help. They are water right?

Akhyls is going to kill me and Annabeth here, we aren't strong enough to fight a primordial. She is going to choke us with poison. Annabeth's going to die. I am going to die. Annabeth's going to die. Wait poison has large amount of water or even liquids. I can control it!

And each time he proves himself right he goes Oh cool, that's helpful. With no idea how world transcending his own abilities are. Were it anyone else they would have let their training and mindset of myths limit their imagination and their ability to fight. But Percy hasn't been trained traditionally, he has never put a limit on his own power. He does with it whatever he needs to and he doesn't let a pre defined set of rules or ways inhibit him. "What do you mean I can't overpower a Primordial in her own domain with her own poison? Of course I can. Poison contains water, it's liquid. I can totally do that."

I think Percy using less powers in the first series has more to do with his trust issues with it. See Percy has deeply internalized his self loathing and self esteem issues. He sees himself as a burden, a troubled kid who only causes problems. He doesn't want his powers to do that, to destroy everything in their path. So he keeps them coiled tight and shut. He needs it to do precisely what he wants, which it does almost always. He starts trusting them but but then at times when he he lets a leash loose, his powers do crazy shit like, blow up a volcano, lift an entire river bed from its roots, level a creek, start a hurricane or other disasters, so he keeps them tightly leashed.

We can see evidence of that with words like "a pull in my gut" "I felt something inside me break" "something uncoiled" and so on.

Whether he does it consciously or not, it only serves to benefit him because everytime his opponents foolishly think,

Enemy: I know all that you can do Perseus Jackson.

Percy: ........

Percy: Damn, even I don't know everything I can do. It's cool that you think you know all I can do though.

*obliterates the monster with something new he comes up with*

Percy: Ha didn't know I could that but boy am I glad it worked. See this is what I was talking about.

Either way I do agree with op on a few things like children of Hades have the most potent abilities, most broken ones but I think their lack of stamina does hinder them. And I mean Nico has known about his powers for even less time than Percy while neither Thalia nor Jason are very creative.

I think Hazel comes really close due to her versatility and creativity. Magic, mist and her own powers along with her fighting prowess. Her and Meg McCaffrey should have been compared to Percy more so than others given they were in similar situations and have such strong abilities. Technically Meg is a child of the Elder Gods.

I think Rick should have explored a bit more on the big three children and their powers.

The point I was trying to make is Percy is so powerful because of his lack of traditional training or traditional fighting knowledge. He learns by hands on experience, adapts on instinct and improves by finding loopholes or getting a better grasp of his already present abilities.

can we/rick talk more abt how extremely inexperienced percy is with his powers in comparison to many of the other big 3 kids

like it’s actually very interesting to think abt if you think abt the connection they each have as a scale to how connected they are to their godly parent (not like emotionally lmao but their godly heritage if that makes sense)

like if you think of nico and hazel those two are arguably the most like in tune with their powers both having used their powers since they were very young and being forced to kind of connect with their godly side much sooner/faster then the others

thalia and jason being second since thalia is literally the second in command to a literal goddess and as a soldier camp jupiter would definitely push jason to know his limits but they both haven’t reached that ease that nico and hazel have — thalia probably could’ve reached it if she hadn’t been snubbed at 15 and wasn’t scared of heights lmao and if jason had probably any type of support that wasn’t pushing him to just be better or focused more on his powers then physical strengths

both thalia and jason also started very young with using their powers yet both had that small blocker of other mortals/people around in comparison to hazel and nico

like hazel and nico are both so small that they’ve been taught to mostly use their powers not that they can’t fight but they rely a lot more on that rather then a sword unlike jason thalia or percy but i think that also just goes with the age that they are since their so young and were taught at that young age to lean on their powers that’s simply what’s easier

then you have percy who literally just found out half this shit was real like 5 years ago and knows nothing abt his powers like genuinely the amount percy leans more on his physical strength bc that’s all he’s had up until he was 12 in comparison to how much he leans on his actual powers is crazy especially if you look at the difference between how much jason or nico rely on their powers at their ages in comparison to how much percy did at those ages

it’s also interesting how that plays into people not taking him very seriously people see him as much more mortal and “weak” bc of it

not that any of them are doing it wrong obv it’s just very interesting to think abt

i think this also plays into percy’s morals a lot ? i recently saw a post saying nico wasn’t scared of percy when he was taking down an army and had hades with a sword to his neck yet annabeth was when percy was choking that goddess in tartarus even tho it was self defense which is all true but if you boil it down to those key points you can really see the clear distinction between the morality of nico and annabeth in those moments and how they know percy in that way as well

nico who’s on the cusp of godly hood in a way - being hades ambassador and spending most time in the underworld - he looks at percy as this hero who fights and kills and wins so that’s what he was letting percy do and he was watching it in awe

yet annabeth knowing percy stopped him yes in fear but in fear of the fact that that is simply not percy percy is the most mortal demigod we’ve met (him and piper tbh) he’s lived his life with mortal morals and he barely uses his powers bc of it so when he’s using his powers to literally kill a goddess like who tf is that ?? and who would he have been if he had gone through with it

i think that’s a pretty easy summary of why percy doesn’t really use his powers much as well he’s always seen himself as just some guy he doesn’t really like ppl calling him a hero he doesn’t really show off (on purpose/without reason) he’s just fighting to survive or to get shit done which is a very human trait percy is a very humble guy and it would just be crazy to see how much more powerful he’d be if he wasn’t bc ik a lot of that is what’s holding him back

also i think it’s interesting to point out the fact that percy used a sword when fighting hades in comparison to tartarus when he used just his powers id be interested to see what nico/annabeth would’ve thought if they were in each others shoes in those moments

also interesting that in both cases he doesn’t go through with it (killing a god/goddess) for 2 different reasons but what would they have done if he did …

i’m realising the purpose at the start of this is very different then what it ended in but i’d like to hear what ppl think if i’m just yapping or if anyone else knows wtf im talking abt lmao

[queenlua]

man why is every single hawk we see in tellius a dude. it's like intsys didn't even realize lady!hawks are BIGGER and thus would CLEARLY be the warriors in any kind of arrangement where they're forming armies and such—

[vexwerewolf]

If I could ask you for some advice, what do you think helps the flavour text of a mech or piece of equipment sell a player on the fantasy of using it?

I'm finding it frustratingly difficult to do so with my own homebrew content: I can come up with lore and backstory easily enough, but re-reading it feels dry, and I can't help but contrast it with how the descrptions in official content and other supplements is more evocative, at least for mechs.

Let's observe some corebook Lancer flavour text and examine the various varieties it comes in.

Purely Functional

While it's usually not the most fun type of flavour text, this just tells us what the weapon is, and - if it has any particular tags or on-hit effects - why it's like that. The Hand Cannon is a good example: here's what it is (modified pistol), here's why it does more damage, and here's why it has Loading.

The main advantage of Purely Functional flavour text is that it provides space for other types of flavour text to breathe. Flavour text is a great place for jokes, but it's not good for every piece of flavour text to be a joke - the pauses between notes in music are just as important as the notes.

Obfuscating Vendorspeak

The Bristlecrown Flechette Launcher this is a great example of dark humour that Lancer uses quite often: marketing fast-talk to cover up something really unpleasant. The joke here is based on us understanding precisely what the equipment does mechanically, and then seeing how the manufacturer tries to sell it. There's a bunch of dense technobabble here meant to obfuscate the fact that this weapon fires knives in every direction specifically designed to kill infantry.

Deadpan Weirdness

The joke here relies on describing something extremely weird like it's the most natural thing in the world. Wait, you're telling me that in a world where I can just print new parts if the old ones break, they put DRM on my fucking knife and I have to apologise to the fucking knife maker to get a new one? What the fuck, dude? Why are you acting like this makes any sense?!

My sword uploads fucking what to the Space Internet?!

Third-Act Twist

This type of flavour text disguises itself as something else - most often Purely Functional - and then hits you with Third Act Twist. It makes you go "wait, what?!" It's very classic setup-punchline stuff. You're telling me my mech can rot?!

As a side note, Lancer loves to use this for its NHPs.

WHY DID YOU PUT THAT IN SCARE QUOTES, LUCIFER

Worldbuilding

This is similar to the Purely Functional, but instead of just describing technical specifications of the weapons, it puts the weapon in the broader context of the setting's history. Okay, so we know what this weapon is and what it does - why was it built? What was the original use case, and why? Most importantly, what can the existence of this weapon tell us about the world that build it?

Whimsical Aside

This is the insertion of a light-hearted, humanising little insertion regarding how this piece of equipment gets used in the field. This serves to remind us that soldiers aren't cold, unfeeling killing machines: they can be as emotional, irreverent and silly as the rest of us, and they do things like name their mobile bombs...

... or call resupply drones "mech snacks."

The Ominous Out-Of-Context Quote That Explains Nothing And Only Raises More Questions

As I've said in multiple textmash memes, this is basically Tom and Miguel's shorthand for "this technology is Intensely Fucked Up in a way that it is more fun and scary not to explain." This is essentially Lancer's version of SCP's [REDACTED].

You might think this is the domain of HORUS, and you'd be right, but every single manufacturer indulges in these - although IPS-N had to wait until NRFaW to get theirs:

What the fuck do you mean by that, Lancer?

[hadersversion]

II. i can fix him (no really i can)

“and i could see it from a mile away, a perfect case for my certain skillset.”

pairing: rafe cameron x innocent pogue! reader

word count: ?? (NOT PROOFREAD)

warnings: 18+ minors dni!! language, soft rafe cameron because my boy just needs some love, slow burn

masterlist!

it has been a week since my last interaction with rafe cameron.

"i'm here to see you."

those five words rang out through my head in every instance it possibly could. walking to work, brushing my teeth, getting ready for bed, in the shower. it felt like he was an annoying bug buzzing in my ear.

the bell to the gas station opens and i straighten my posture, trying to push the thoughts of rafe to the back of my head.

"hey, y/n." i see pope's head pop through the aisles as he searches for something.

i smile at him. "hey there, pope. what brings you in here today?"

i watch as he walks down each aisle, mentally scratching things off his list. "the guys and i are going on the boat today, i offered to buy some snacks."

"buying snacks could only mean one thing." i cock an eyebrow towards him.

"jj got some new weed." we say in unison, locking eyes and laughing.

pope brings up the item towards me, handing them to me to ring up. "well have fun and be safe out there. the total is $10.78 and tell jj that just because he sent you in does not mean i will give the discount." i point my finger.

pope holds his hands up and laughs. i turn around to grab a bag for his stuff as i hear the door open again. "it was worth a shot. you know i-" pope stops mid-sentence, almost like he was silenced.

"do i know what?" i turn around and see rafe standing behind pope, looking him up and down. out the window, i see john b and jj sticking their heads out in a protective manner. we both stay silent under rafe's cold glare. i quickly bag up the items, handing them over to pope. "y'all be safe out there." i force a smirk as i feel rafe's eyes on me.

pope nods and walks out of the store, hopping back in the van. john b shoots me a look, asking if i'll be okay with his eyes. i nod, signaling for him to go. i can see jj protest it.

rafe walks up, not saying a word. "what can i help you with today?" i say with a shaky voice.

he smiles slightly. "had to get gas, wanted to put $20 on pump 2."

i glare at him, narrowing my eyes at him. "really?"

he shrugs. "what? a man can't get gas for his truck?" he steps closer to the counter, his stomach touching up against it like he's trying to get closer to me.

i don't say a word, just shoot a quick look to see if the guys are still there.

they are.

it's like having three annoying brothers.

my eyes look back to rafe as he stares down at me. i rest my arms against the counter, trying not to blush. "i mean, technically, any person has the right to get gas. but you, rafe, never come over to this side of the island unless you're here to fuck around or mess with someone. so, i'm a little suspicious." i admit.

he licks his lips as he chuckles. "honesty?" he asks, similarly to the night we last spoke.

"you know i love it." i say, bluntly.

"just wanted to check in on my favorite pogue." he says in a whisper, sliding across the $20 bill. "and to get gas for my truck."

i feel like my body is on fire just from his glare. i take his money, without breaking eye contact. "you got it. $20 on pump 2." i repeat.

he smiles again and damn him for the effect it has over me. he looks over to my friends in the van and then back at me. "they don't seem to catch a hint, huh?' he waves at them jokingly, which jj does not seem to like.

"can you blame them? you came in here like the terminator or some shit." i say.

"have you ever seen the terminator?" he asks.

i rub the back of my neck, looking at my shoes. "uh, no."

"figures because that reference does not make any sense." he jokes, making me blush. i try to hide my face and he taps the counter. "come on, now, it was a joke. don't hide that pretty face away from me."

my heart skipped a beat as i felt my ears burn. the awkwardness i'm feeling is exuding from my body like it's leaking out of my pores. "w-whatever, you know what i mean. you don't always have to look so mean, ya know? acting like something crawled up your ass."

he lets out a breathe of air with a belly laugh. "don't pretend like you don't like it."

it's like he can see through me and i hate it. "y-you can go fill your tank now." i say, trying to ignore the tension he created.

"but i wanna stay here and talk with you some more." he looks me up and down.

"as fun as it would be, i'm on the clock. my pop would kill me if he knew i'm talking to boys when i should be working." i say to him.

he nods, looking around the store. "how about i take you out?"

all i can do is laugh.

what else is there to do in a situation like this?

he has to be joking. there is no way he's seroius.

"what's so funny?" he seems almost annoyed.

i shake my head, trying to calm my laughter down. "you...wanting to take me...out. that's a good one."

"i was being serious."

"and the sky is purple. oh! and unicorns are real." i say sarcastically.

he stands straight, his demeanor changing. "y/n, i wanna take you out. no jokes, no pranks, no bullshit."

i stand there, my expression dropping. "you're serious?" he nods, making me cross my arms. "why?"

"i-i don't know, because i want to get to know you? i don't know." he holds his arms up. my body seems to just shut down, unable to move or process anything. "y/n? hello?" rafe stands there impatiently.

"no." i say, flatly.

he sticks his head out, closing his eyes. "w-what?"

"no." i repeat.

"why?" he asks, now crossing his arms.

i turn around, grabbing items that need to be restocked. "for starters, because i can." i walk past him as he follows after me. "but most importantly, i was not born yesterday." i put the items back on the shelf as he looks at me. "listen, you are a very attractive guy. like super attractive. but, i know your end goal. i know you're only doing this to fuck with me and my friends. i appreciate the offer but no."

it pains me to say no when all i want to do is say yes, but i need to think with my head.

i expect him to retaliate, push back on what i said. but all he does is nod and back up. "understood. but respectfully, y/n, you will change your mind. might not be now or anytime in the future, but it'll happen." i look at him, he wears that same cocky expression he always does. "thanks for the gas, see you around."

i watch as he turns around, going out the door he came in.

he has something up his sleeve and i cannot tell if i'm excited or nervous for it.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

the sun slowly begins to rise over the ocean as i park my bike at the beach.

i take my sandals off, walking over the cool sand to my usual spot when i see a figure sitting there. i cant make out who it is. i clutch my bag closer to my body. no one is ever here this early with me.

as i walk closer, i see the blonde head that made my head swirl.

“rafe?” i ask.

“there you are. i was wondering if i got the wrong spot.” he says, calm and collected.

i just stare at him, unable to process what the hell is happening. “w-what are you doing here?”

he shrugs. “i’m here to watch the dolphins.”

my hands find my hips. “rafe.”

“what? it’s so hard to believe i came here to see the dolphins?” he says, causing me to cock my eyebrow and give him a suspicious look.

“actually it is very hard to believe. you waking up at the ass crack of dawn to watch dolphins? it’s a little strange.” i say to him. “especially given the last conversation we had. how did you even know where to find me?”

he shifts in his seat. “the first time we met.”

“what?”

“that day on the beach, you told me you were here to watch the dolphins. i watched you sit down and remembered this was the spot. your spot.” he admits.

i stand there, my heart fluttering in my chest. why is he so observant with me? “so you decided to come join me unannounced?” he nods at my question. “kinda creepy.”

i can see his face drop and he sighs, rubbing his jaw. “well, i can leave if you really want me to. i didn’t mean t-”

he cuts himself off when i open my bag and grab my towel, setting it down next to him. “no need, you’re already out here.” i place my stuff next to the towel and find my spot.

we sit beside each other in silence, staring out into the ocean ahead of us. the sky is a mixture of blue and yellow, radiating a soft filter onto our skins. there’s no sign of any life in the ocean, only the seagulls flying overhead. i play with a loose thread on the sleeve of my sweatshirt, trying to cope with this awkward tension between us when an idea pops into my head. i grab my strawberry shortcake lunchbox that i’ve had since i was a kid and open it. i hear rafe chuckle and i shoot him a dirty look before grabbing my blueberry muffin out of it. i unwrap it from its plastic and split it into two. “wanna go halfsies?”

he stares down at the pastry in my hand and softly grabs it. “t-thanks.” we eat in silence, looking everywhere and anywhere but at each other. “so you do this every day?” he asks and i nod. “even if it rains?” he looks over at me.

“sometimes, depending on the condition. it keeps me at ease. like a getaway.” i admit. “don’t you have something that you use to like…i don’t know. escape. forget about the world for a few hours?”

he sighs, his feet shuffling in the sand. “kind of? but it’s nothing as peaceful as this.”

“really? what is it?” i ask curiously.

he laughs softly to himself and shakes his head. “it’s uh….it’s something to take the edge off i guess.”

i look at him, trying to connect the dots. “what is it?”

he closes his eyes and shakes his head. he looks like he wants to tell me but holds back. “how long have you been doing this?” he changes the subject rather quickly.

i’m taken aback by the sudden change but i can tell it’s something he’d rather not talk about it. a dirty little secret, perhaps. “hmm, well…probably when i was in 5th grade? middle school was…rough to say the least.” i let out a light laugh. “home life got rough, the usual shit. i was at a sleepover for this girl who invited me as a joke and i just couldn’t sleep. so i got on my bike and rode around the island, not sure where to go. it was too early to head home and nothing was opened yet, so i sat on the beach. that’s when i saw how calm it was.”

rafe just stares at me, a neutral expression on his face. “wow.”

i suddenly realized how much baggage i just dropped on him. my face heated up as i tried to collect my scrambled thoughts. “sorry, i didn’t mean to like…dump on you.” i stammer out.

rafe gently puts his hand on my knee, trying to pull me back to earth. “hey, hey, it’s all good. no need to apologize. we all got our shit.” he reassures me. “i’m just…i don’t know? glad…you felt comfortable enough to tell me about that.”

i stare at his hand on my knee. his fingers running slow circles into it, giving me the comfort i needed in that second. “i usually am not so open about this shit. i find it better to keep bottled up.” i say truthfully.

“i’m with you on that one, believe me.” a comfortable silence falls between us, our eyes meeting and staying connected. it feels as though we are the only two people in existence right now. his hand still rests on my leg as my breath hitches. i can feel his face moving in closer to me. do i want him to kiss me? yes. absolutely. 100%. but the voice in my head was screaming at me to stop.

what would your friends do if they saw you like this? this is rafe fucking cameron. you can’t be kissing the enemy. he’s the definition of BAD NEWS.

it pounded in my head until our noses touched and i closed my eyes tight.

i can’t.

i quickly turn away, looking back out to the ocean. my chest rising up and down, the almost kiss making me loose my breathe. “look! there’s a few now!” it was my turn to change the subject.

i don’t turn my head back to him. just staring straight ahead, trying not to replay what almost happened. he just stays there, in the same position. i can hear him blow out a breathe of air and shake his head, turning towards the direction i’m talking about. “oh shit, that’s cool.” he says monotone.

the sun is fully risen above our heads, the temperature is rising and the beach is slowly welcoming more visitors. rafe and i haven’t said a word since the kiss that was so close to happening.

i slowly start to gather my things, cleaning off the sand from my legs. rafe copies me, wiping the sand off of him. we walk up the path, i’m cautiously looking around to see if any of my friends are around. i can see rafe just staying at his feet. we walk up to bike stand and pause.

“let me give you a ride home.” he offers.

i shake my head. “i live in the complete opposite direction of you, it wouldn’t make any sense. i really appreciate it though.”

he stands there, giving me a stern look. “wouldn’t be very gentleman like if i didn’t. i really don’t mind.” i look at my bike and back at him. he’s almost pleading with me to accept the ride. “c’mon.”

i won’t lie and say his puppy dog look didn’t have any effect on me. i sigh, giving in. “fine.” he walks my bike over to his truck, loading it into the bed. i then walk over to the passenger door but he beats me to it, opening it for me. i blush slightly and laugh. “and they say chivalry is dead.” rafes body is dangerously close to mine, i can feel him looking down at me.

“clearly they haven’t met me yet.” he winks back.

the car ride is quiet, yet again.

there’s millions of things we probably want to say to each other but just can’t bring ourselves to do so. so we let it consume us.

i stare out the window as we drive deeper into the island and into the cut. when rafe finally pulls up to my house, he looks over at me and back to my house. i expect a dirty look. one of disgust or even pity. but he doesn’t, shockingly, he just has a soft look on his face. “thank you for letting me drive you home.” he says to me.

“i should be thanking you. saved me a few mile bike ride.” i chuckle. his eyes stare into mine, yet again. i could get lost in those baby blue but i have to fight the urge.

he licks his lips smoothly and nods. “let me get your bike.” he hops out of the truck and runs around to my side of the truck, opening my door for me yet again. i stand there awkwardly as he grabs my bike. “where do you want me to put this?”

“over there is fine.” i point next to my front door. he nods and sets it down. he walks back up to me and stands there. we both don’t know what to say. “thanks for dropping by today, even though it was creepy and unexpected.” i joke.

he laughs and nods his head. “yeah, yeah. don’t pretend you didn’t like my company.” he nudges my shoulder. “i just…i wanted to spend sometime with you.” he admits. “as corny as it sounds.”

“rafe…” i trail off, knowing where this is going to leave.

“y/n, it’s fine. i don’t want to push you or make you uncomfortable. i just…i want to get to know you. i don’t know, i don’t think that’s so wrong?” he says.

he’s right, it’s not so wrong. but…he’s him and i’m me. it just won’t work.

“still not completely convinced this isn’t apart of some plot to completely eliminate the pogues.” i say.

“well i guess i have to earn your trust.” he says to me softly.

i look up at him and smile. “i’ll see you around.”

“i’m counting on it.” he says.

i walk into my door, turning around to wave at him. he hangs on the side of his opened door, waving back with a smile on his face. i’ve seen rafe smile more times today than my entire life knowing him.

once i get inside, i hear his truck pull off and i let out a big sigh of air i didn’t know i was keeping. my skin felt like it was on fire, my mind racing a mile a minute. was i finally seeing rafe cameron as a human being? a human being that i want to spend time with? laugh with? have memories with?

i had to be going crazy. there had to be something in my water. or in the air.

or maybe, just maybe….rafe cameron was a good guy after all. or a guy that could be good with a little bit of help from me.

tag list: @readingsmuts @saranred @kikixdee @drewsdirtyslut @ephermally @personaswrld @ymnizuh @lillywildly @anaheimd101 @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @thewitchesofart @ditzyzombiesblog @gothamgurl2024

[stevie-petey]

episode five: dig dug

“You like Y/N?” Dustin asks at the same time as you ask, “You like me?” Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, barely. She’s on thin ice. But you, little Henderson? You just stole the flowers meant for my girlfriend, so backseat you go.” “Yes!” You cheer, pumping your fist in the air as you flash Steve a smile. “Thanks, Harrington.” He rounds the front of his car and opens the driver's side door. “Yeah, don’t get used to it. Like I said, you’re still on thin ice.”

Summary: you and dustin bury a body and con your mother into fleeing town, great sibling bonding time ! you play hockey with a monster, dustin gets ghosted by his friends, and now it's your turn to kidnap steve (technically dustin does, but you don't stop him) who later gives you some terrifying realizations.

Rating: general, swearing and slight violence

Warnings: blood, use of y/n, fem!reader, animal cruelty technically, weapons, cursing

Words: 7.5k

Before you swing in: hello ! late chapter update, but here ya go lovelies !! lots has happened recently, i got a sick ass job and im super excited and :))) so updates will definitely slow down again some more, but i promise i will update whenever possible. for now, please enjoy !

–

“Remember how angry I was at you about hiding El from me last year?”

“Yeah?”

“Visualize the anger, multiply it by ten, and then take three steps back from me.”

Dustin trips over his feet to scramble away from you.

You’re currently in your own room, the door locked, with Dustin standing several feet away now as he heeds your warning. Never in your life have you felt such rage before, such blinding fury, and you thought you knew what anger was when your dad left.

But this? This is a new type of anger, one you know that only the older sister to Dustin Henderson could ever feel.

As soon as Dart had lifted its head up at you and screeched, you’d immediately snatched your brother’s hand into yours and ran out the door, door slamming behind you. Now, you’re hiding out in your room with no fucking clue what to do.

“You killed our cat.”

“Technically Dart did.” You glare at Dustin. You had actually liked Mews, she was the sweetest cat in the world and a gift for your fifth birthday. Your brother, sensing he’s only digging a deeper hole for himself, coughs. “I mean… Yeah. I killed our cat.”

Stepping back, you find your desk chair against your legs and fall into the seat. Exhaustion sweeps over you. There’s no time to grieve the loss of your cat. Not when there’s a baby demogorgon in Dustin’s room eating said cat’s corpse still. “What do we even do in this situation?”

“Not tell mom?” Again, you glare at Dustin and he squeaks in fear. “Well I mean, that’s all I can think of right now!”

A headache forms. “I should’ve gone with Jonathan and Nancy.”

Dustin thinks for a moment. “Where did they go, anyways?”

“No. You don’t get to ask any questions right now.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You sigh, a vague idea forming in your mind. “Okay, first we need get Mews out of the room. She was mom’s favorite child, we can’t just leave her in there to be diminished to bones.”

Dustin nods. “Obviously. We can do that… right?”

“We have to. Once she’s out of there, we just… leave Dart in there. At least for now. It’s already late in the afternoon and we need so much help from the party.”

“We can’t tell the party–”

“You’re right. We can’t,” Dustin sighs with relief, but you give him an evil smile. “But you can tell the party. You’ll radio everyone tomorrow, clean the house, and make a plan from there.”

Dustin tries to argue, but you hold a hand up. “You brought a baby demogorgon into our house. You lost every arguing privilege there is to lose.”

He groans, knowing you’re right. Next time, he’ll be better at hiding things from you because you’re a total buzzkill whenever you inevitably find out.

Together, the two of you hatch a plan. You’ll walk into Dustin’s room first, knives out and ready just in case, and Dustin will follow once the coast is clear. Then, he’ll lure Dart away from Mews’ body with chocolate (you don’t want to ask why), and once he’s gone you’ll snatch your cat’s body and flee the room immediately afterwards.

It’s a good plan.

That is, if it works.

“Ready?” You’re standing in front of Dustin’s door, your knives flicked open in your hand, ready for possible war with a foot long little demon.

Your brother pats your shoulder. “Don’t die, sis.”

“I’m holding knives as we speak. Touch me again and die.”

“I hope Dart eats your face.”

You smile. “There’s my brother. Okay, as soon as I’m inside the room, close the door. Then, when I knock three times, open it again and enter.”

“Wait for two knocks–”

“Three.”

“Three knocks. Right.”

You steady your breathing. Around the corner, you can hear your mom humming to herself as she makes dinner. She has no clue what’s going on, and you envy her for it. Your hand on Dustin’s door knob twists slowly, then, before you can psych yourself out, you turn the knob and throw yourself inside.

Quickly the door slams behind you, so at least Dustin did something right.

Your eyes, which had previously been squeezed shut, open slowly. When you don’t see any sign of Dart, you exhale. So far, so good. You walk towards the couch and find the creature still eating away at your dead cat, which you gag at.

Poor Mews.

You rap your knuckles against the door three times, alerting Dustin to come inside.

He opens the door and walks in, his hands fisted against his face as if that would do anything to keep him safe. You roll your eyes and flick his head, which he whines at. “Grab the chocolate and distract Dart, please.”

Dustin runs over to his desk and grabs a Musketeers bar. When you see the candy’s name, you want to slam your head against the wall. You know exactly why the monster’s name is Dart.

“Let me guess,” you say, your tone mocking. “D’Artagnan?”

“Don’t you have a corpse to collect?”

You scoff at him but step aside so that he can dangle the chocolate in Dart’s face. You watch, alert for any signs of danger in case you need to step in, but the monster seems to be pretty friendly with Dustin. You guess they really did create a bond.

Once Dart is far enough away from Mews, you run over and snatch up her body. You try not to think about the possible cat guts now all over your sweater. That will be a later issue. Like a lot of things in your life recently.

“Go, go, go!” You push Dustin towards the door.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, throwing the last piece of the candy bar at Dart’s face and running out the door right behind you. Once you’re both out the room with the door closed, you both lean against the wall and exhale deeply.

“Good job. Now onto phase two.”

Dustin makes a face. “Why do I have to distract mom?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you hold up Mews’ bloody body. “Do you want to be the one to hold our dead cat?”

“Good point, I’ll go distract mom.” Dustin leaves, rounding the corner to go hopefully distract your poor mother in a sane way. With your luck, Dustin will spew some weird bullshit that will only make her more worried than she already is.

Right on cue, you hear Dustin say from the kitchen. “Mom, I think I broke my arm.”

The scream of fear your mom lets out would’ve been comedic had you not been holding her beloved dead cat.

Your mother runs around the kitchen, fretting over your brother, and the second she isn’t looking, you slip out the front door and quickly throw Mews’ body into your bush. You feel a bit bad about that, but there’s nowhere else to hide her body in broad daylight.

When you walk back inside, Dustin is being swaddled by your mother. “What did I miss?”

“Oh, Y/N!” Your mom sighs. “Dusty said he thought he broke his arm, but the silly boy seems to be okay.”

Dustin pats her back. “Ha, right. Silly me!”

Your mom looks up and then squints a bit, eying your sweater. You look down and your heart drops. It’s covered in Mews’ blood.

Fuck.

“Y/N, what’s that all over your sweater?”

“Paint!” You say while Dustin sputters, “Ketchup!”

“We… Were painting with ketchup.” You lie, sending a quick glare your brother’s way. Out of everything red, why ketchup?

“Oh, alright.” Your mom looks uncertain, but doesn’t say anything else about it. “Well, dinner is almost ready. Why don’t you go wash up, honey?”

The second you’re dismissed, you run into your room and yank the sweater off. You’ll burn it tomorrow. First chance you get.

A few seconds later, there’s a knock on your door before Dustin’s head pokes inside. “Dinner’s done.”

“Great. Holding your dead cat definitely works up an appetite.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Dustin tries to play it off, but you see the genuine upset in his eyes. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, and you know he loved Mews too.

You sigh and walk over to him and kiss his curls. “It’s okay. Next time, let’s not hide a monster from the Upside Down, yeah?”

“Deal.”

–

Dustin spends the night in your room, which you explain to your mom as needing some “serious bonding time”. She tears up at this, unaware of the fact that you’ll be making your brother sleep on the floor as punishment.

The next morning you and Dustin hatch yet another plan: get mom out of the house. Before you two can do anything else, you both agree that your mom cannot be anywhere near Dart. Plus, she’s already noticed Mews’ absence, so it’s only a matter of time before she finds the body in the bush.

“Alright, you’ll fake the phone call while I start gathering the supplies.” You tell Dustin while your mom calls for Mews outside. She’s at the bottom of the driveway, Mews’ favorite toy in her hand, shaking it around, unaware that the cat’s dead body is in the bush next to her.

“Got it. You remember where my old hockey suit is?” You nod at Dustin’s question, and he’s about to say something else before he sees your mom start walking back towards the house. “Shit! Game time, go!”

Dustin fumbles for the phone and you run to the living room closet. Just as you’ve entered your positions, your mom walks through the front door.

“Mewsy! Dusty, Y/N, sweethearts, you’re sure she’s not in your rooms?”

“No, mom.” You shake your head at her.

Holding up a finger, Dustin presses the phone to his ear and motions for the woman to remain quiet. “Uh-huh. Thank you so much, Mr. McCorkle. Thank you so much, you are a true lifesaver.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. He’s laying it on pretty thick.

“Alright, this was great. Thank you, have a good one. Bye-bye now, all right. You too.” Dustin pretends to hang up the phone and smiles at your mom. “Alright, great news!”

“They found her?” Tears of joy lace your mother’s voice. You have to turn away, you know she’d notice the discomfort on your face. It feels horrible to be lying to your mother like this.

Dustin seems to be thinking the same thing, because he lowers his voice and gently approaches her. “No, but they saw her wandering around Loch Nora.”

More tears flow down your mom’s face. “How did the poor baby get all the way over there?”

“I don’t know, lost I guess. But they’re gonna look for her, and–and Y/N and I will stay here, just in case they call again. Right, Y/N?”

“Right!” You call from the closet, now quickly grabbing everything you can think of. Would a hammer be necessary?

“And you’re gonna go help look. Yeah?” Dustin’s only response is a relieved hug from your crying mother. “Yeah, give me a hug. Go get her!”

Your mom quickly composes herself and grabs her glasses. She presses a kiss to your forehead and seems to be in better spirits. “We’ll find her!”

“Mews will be home soon, mom!” You cheer, and your mom blows you another kiss.

“I love you,” Dustin sends her a thumbs up.

“I love you, kids.” And with that, your mom clutches her purse to her chest and sends one final kiss your way before shutting the door behind her.

As soon as the door shuts, you and Dustin scramble. Dustin heads to the backyard to open your cellar doors and you grab the remaining hockey gear from the closet. While you drag the uniform out to the living room, your brother begins to look through the fridge for any possible bait.

“Think Dart would like bologna?” Dustin calls over his shoulder as he digs around.

You groan, dropping the heavy goalie pads. “Last I checked, he wasn’t my secret Upside Down pet.”

“Touche.”

Dustin grabs the bologna and starts making a trail from his room towards the front door. While he does that, you start sorting through your own pile of gear, soccer to be specific. Dustin liked hockey, you preferred warmer sports. As you’ve finished lacing up your cleats and shin pads, Dustin returns.

“Okay, the bait is all set up. Got my hockey stick?”

You hand him what he needs. “Here, and your helmet is on the couch.”

Dustin gets ready and you retrieve some oven mitts from the kitchen. When you hand them to the boy, he looks at you like you’re insane. “What? Extra protection. Can’t hurt.”

He sighs and swipes them from your hand, putting them on. Once he’s ready, you help him stand up. He looks ridiculous in his old hockey gear, but you suppose you don’t look any better with your shin pads and Dustin’s spare shoulder pads.

“Alright. We all set?”

Dustin pats his helmet. “Ready.”

You walk towards his room, and once you’re there, Dustin pushes past you and bends down a bit so he can speak through his keyhole. “Alright, Dart. Breakfast time.”

“Do we have to mention breakfast right before we set him free?" You mumble, but your brother ignores you.

Slowly, he reaches towards the door handle and then flings it open. As soon as the door has been moved, Dustin practically knocks you to the ground in his haste to escape. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

His mantra reminds you of Steve’s from last year at Jonathan’s. Seems like the two boys have something in common: they’re idiots.

You follow quickly behind Dustin, terrified but at least trying to hide it, while your brother just repeats “oh my god”, and “shit” over and over again as he stumbles over the bait and out towards the front door.

If the situation wasn’t so grave, you’d be giggling at how dumb Dustin looks waddling over bologna on the floor. However, Dart could very well be right behind you, so you run after the kid equally as terrified.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit–”

By this point, you’re nearing the tool shed outside.

“I will push you down these stairs Dustin Henderson.”

Dustin shuts up and, as soon as you’re inside the shed as well, locks it behind him. Once he’s sure you’re all cleared, he lets out a breath of relief. “Okay, now we wait.”

You walk towards the wood panels, squinting as you peek through a gap to see outside. “I don’t see anything.”

Dustin does the same. “Come on, I know you’re hungry…”

Everything remains still outside, and you’re starting to worry that maybe Dart doesn’t like bologna after all, until you see his scaly body walk out the door. He gobbles down the bologna pieces one by one, which you cringe at.

“Yeah. He likes bologna, alright.”

Dustin silently cheers. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

Dart makes his way down the trail, eating every piece he finds, and soon he scampers down the steps and hovers over the cellar doors. In an odd way, the little guy is kinda cute if you forget about the fact that he killed your cat.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Dustin continues to chant as you watch Dart. The creature just has one more piece of bologna left, he just needs to take a few more steps inside before you can slam the doors shut.

But, because nothing can ever be easy for you, Dart suddenly turns and looks straight at you and Dustin. “Shit!”

You flinch back, knocking into a bucket of nails that spill everywhere. “Shit again!”

Dustin tries to shush you but you grab him by his shoulders and force him behind you. Your knives are out, their blades gleaming in the sunlight that creeps through the wood panels. You peek through them to find Dart slowly approaching the shed, his mouth almost watering.

“Well, this isn’t good.” You take a breath to lessen your fear. “Stay here, I’ll try to distract him–”

“AHHH!” Dustin shoves you against the opposite wall, your body flinging back with a harsh crash, and breaks through the shed’s door. With one solid wack from his hockey stick, he flings Dart into the cellar.

“What the–Dustin!” By the time you make it out the shed, your brother has flung himself on top of the cellar doors, panting.

“Got him,” he informs you, as if it isn’t obvious enough. Dart begins to screech with anger, and Dustin sighs. “I’m sorry, you ate my cat.”

“You’re an idiot, Dustin.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just give me five seconds to catch my breath, please.”

–

With Dart safely locked away, you and Dustin are able to finally bury your cat.

It doesn’t take long, but the early November heat is just warm enough to make you annoyed as you dig through the soil in your backyard. Dustin has his walkie with him, trying to find the right frequency so he can call the party and inform them of what’s going on.

“Guys, this is Dustin again. Does anyone copy?” You stab at the ground with your shovel and your brother groans when he gets no response. “This is a code red. I repeat, a code red!”

Sweat trickles down your brow and honestly it should be Dustin burying the cat, but you’ve never learned how to radio the party so you just sigh and throw more dirt upon your dead cat. Dustin tries a few more times to contact the party, but no one responds.

“Damn it!” He shouts, frustrated.

“Language,” you huff out, more sweat forming.

It goes on like this for a while, Dustin trying and failing to reach anyone, as you two begin to clean the house of any blood and Mews guts. He tries again while you guys grab the cleaning supplies, then again while you’re on your hands and knees scrubbing his carpet in his room.

“Alright, it’s Dustin again. Seriously, I have a code red.”

“Maybe they don’t know what code red means?” You offer, your nose scrunched up due to the bleach fumes.

Dustin scoffs, “sure, and they also don’t know who Luke Skywalker’s father is–”

Suddenly Erica’s voice comes through the walkie. “Can you please shut up?”

“Erica?” Dustin stops scrubbing and straightens up. “Erica, is Lucas there? Where is he?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Erica has always been such a lovely girl.

“Is he with Mike?”

“Like I said, I don’t know and I don’t care.”

You and Dustin share a look. It worries you that Mike hasn’t been responding all day. From what you’ve heard and seen, he’s spent every day this year camped out in his fort in the basement trying to contact El with the radio frequencies.

It’s not like to Mike to just disappear.

“Listen, Erica.” You speak up, trying to sweet talk to the girl. You’ve babysat her a few times and you’ve even managed to convince her you’re kinda cool, so maybe she’ll respond better to you. “Did Lucas mention anything else? Maybe… Maybe like a girl he went to see?”

Dustin frowns. “A girl? What–” You shush him and wait for a response.

Erica snorts. “A girl? Please, as if. He’s been gone all day. That’s all I can tell you.”

Your brother closes his eyes and sighs. “Please tell him it’s super important. Please tell him that I have a code–”

“Code red?” Erica interrupts.

“Yep, code red. Exactly.” Dustin smiles, then covers his mike to whisper to you, “seems like she likes me more than you–”

“I got a code for you instead. It’s called code shut-your-mouth.” Then, Erica switches off the walkie.

Dustin stares at nothing, dumbfounded. You go back to scrubbing the carpet, a pleased smile on your face. “So, you were saying?”

He’s quiet for a few seconds, processing the fact that clearly no one in the party will answer, before letting out an obnoxious groan. “Damn it!”

“Are you gonna help me clean, or–?”

“Can’t you just call Jonathan?” Dustin asks, grasping at straws. “Maybe he can be useful for once and help.”

You shake your head. “No, he’s out of town right now with Nancy.”

“And you’re okay with this because…?”

“Because,” you roll your eyes, “they’re on a secret mission to take down Hawkin’s Lab. They’re at some detective’s house right now, so I have zero way of contacting them.”

Dustin rubs at his eyes tiredly. “How did we get stuck with a cat eating baby demogorgon while Jonathan and Nancy get cool spy work?”

You pinch his leg, causing him to wince and move away from you. “Because you purposefully hid the baby demogorgon. Any other stupid questions?”

“Sure,” Dustin throws his hands up in defeat, obviously joking when he asks, “got any other friend we could call for help?”

A sarcastic laugh escapes your lips and you’re about to tell him that he has more friends than you’ve ever had, but then a thought occurs to you.

Steve.

Technically speaking, you’re friends. Well, sort of. Sure, he had wanted space yesterday in the lunchroom, and yeah he’s still mad at you and things are awkward at best between the two of you, but still…

He’d been at Jonathan’s house last year, he had fought by your side and saved your life and even bought you a vending machine full of snacks. If anyone else could understand the situation you’re in right now, it’s Steve.

You hesitate though. He still seemed really hurt at lunch, but you also saw the way he lingered even after dismissing himself. He doesn’t hate you, at least not really, and without Jonathan or Nancy to call, he’s the only person you have left right now.

It can’t hurt to try, at least.

“Actually, yeah.” You respond after a minute or so. “Be right back.”

Dustin asks questions as you head towards the living room, but you don’t respond. If Steve doesn’t answer, then you can make up some lie about the phone being broken or something to save yourself the embarrassment.

Your fingers press Steve’s long remembered number. He had given it to you his first week of visiting you at Bookstrordinary, assuring you that you could call him whenever. After a while, you took his word on it and started calling the boy every time you were bored and alone at work.

The line rings for a few seconds, and you bite your lip in anticipation.

This is a horrible idea, and yet your heart flutters when Steve answers with a groggy, “hello?”

“Hey, Steve.”

“Y/N?” He sounds surprised.

You can’t blame him, he did quite literally yesterday tell you he’s still upset with you and that he needs space. And yet here you are: calling him early on a Saturday afternoon. “Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I really need your help–”

A sigh. “Normally I’d love to, but I’m kinda in the middle of getting ready to go to Nancy’s.”

“Nancy’s? Steve, she’s not even home–”

“Can we talk later? I… I’d really like to talk, if that’s alright with you.”

This throws you, and for a second you forget about the reason you called. “Of course we can talk, Steve.”

“Great,” you can hear a smile in his voice, which warms you. “I’ll see you later, then.”

Then you remember Dart and the blood on Dustin’s carpet and you frantically try to stop Steve from hanging up. “Wait, no! Steve, Nancy isn’t home and I really need you to–”

The line goes dead, and you slam the phone down. “Damn it!”

Dustin, hearing the commotion, wanders into the kitchen. “Take it the call didn’t go well?”

“No, it did.” Sure, Steve didn’t necessarily offer his help, but he did tell you where he’s going to be in about twenty minutes. You’ll ambush him there and demand he listen to you and help. As a bonding exercise, of course. “We’re going to the Wheeler’s.”

“Why?”

“Steve’s heading there.”

Dustin trips over his shoelaces. “Steve Harrington?”

“Long story,” you sigh, dreading that you’ll have to explain all of this eventually. “C’mon, let's get our bikes.”

–

You and Dustin get to the Wheeler’s before Steve does, which makes no sense to you but whatever. He’ll be here soon enough and you’ll ambush him with all your charm and maybe a bit of groveling. You’re not beneath it, if you’re being honest.

Dustin goes up to the front door while you stay behind, keeping an eye out for Steve. Ted opens the front door and while you can’t hear what he says to Dustin, you know he’s unamused by his presence. The father has never been your favorite parent within the group, honestly.

You watch as they exchange a few more words before you see Dustin sigh and angrily march back towards you. Then, right as he’s grabbed his bike, a familiar red BMW pulls up. Just seeing his car makes your heart skip a beat.

The car parks and a frazzled Steve steps out, carrying flowers and mumbling to himself. You aren’t able to hear everything he’s saying, but you can hear the words “what the hell am I sorry for?” and your stomach twists.

So clearly he’s not in a good mood. Still.

The flowers, which you now can see are roses, hang by Steve’s side as he fixes his hair. He hasn’t noticed you yet, and it takes everything within you to pull your eyes away. He looks good today, too good.

There’s a monster currently locked in your cellar.

“Steve!” You rush over to his side.

He does a double take when he sees you. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“Well–”

“Are those for Mr. or Mrs. Wheeler?” Dustin now joins you two, pointing at the roses in the boy��s hand.

Steve looks between the two of you. “No…? You’re Dustin, right? Y/N’s brother?”

Dustin snatches the roses out of his hand. “Good, and yeah, I am.”

“Hey, what the hell?” Steve looks at you for help, but you know there’s no use trying to reason with your brother. He’s in a mood, similar to Steve, and you just sigh and follow Dustin. “Hey!”

“Nancy isn’t home.” Your brother informs Steve.

“Where is she?” Steve asks, and you hit his shoulder.

“I tried telling you over the phone!”

Dustin claps his hands at you to get your guys’ attention again. “It doesn’t matter where she is or if you tried to warn him, Y/N. We have bigger problems than your love lives.”

He’s at Steve’s car now and opens the passenger side door. “Do you still have that bat?”

Steve whips his head towards you. “Bat? What the hell is he talking about? Y/N, what are you guys doing here–”

“The one with the nails!” Dustin interrupts, exasperated.

Again Steve looks at you. “Why?”

“You’re not gonna like it,” you confess, and this only makes Steve feel worse.

“We’ll explain it on the way.” Dustin goes to sit in the passenger seat but he’s quickly stopped when you grab his hood and yank him out.

“No, absolutely not. I deserve the passenger seat, not you.”

Dustin slaps you away. “I got here first.”

“I was born first–”

“But I was literally about to sit down–”

“Hey!” Steve shouts, effectively shutting you and Dustin up. “It’s my car, and right now I currently only like Y/N, so she gets the passenger seat.”

“You like Y/N?” Dustin asks at the same time as you ask, “You like me?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, barely. She’s on thin ice. But you, little Henderson? You just stole the flowers meant for my girlfriend, so backseat you go.”

“Yes!” You cheer, pumping your fist in the air as you flash Steve a smile. “Thanks, Harrington.”

He rounds the front of his car and opens the driver's side door. “Yeah, don’t get used to it. Like I said, you’re still on thin ice.”

He says it with annoyance in his voice, but you can see the smile he’s trying hard not to let slip, and you feel giddy. Steve obviously can’t be too mad at you if he wanted to talk later and is willingly letting himself be kidnapped by your brother.

Dustin, on the other hand, can’t believe any of this is happening. As soon as you’re all in the car he asks, “Since when did you two become friends?”

“I have a life outside of you and the boys, you know,” you tell him, but you avoid Steve’s gaze. It’s not like you intentionally hid this aspect of your life from Dustin, but… It also never came up, either.

“Sure ya do, but… Wait,” Dustin remembers something. “Oh my god, you have Steve Harrington’s number memorized?”

Your face heats up and Steve hides a smirk, but you see it anyway. You ignore his smugness and respond to your brother. “Like I said, I have a life outside of you.”

Dustin gapes at you. “I have so many questions–”

“I have an even better one: where am I taking you guys?” Steve asks, and suddenly you remember everything at stake.

“My house,” you tell him as you buckle up. He nods, although with some confusion, and then starts the engine. “You know how I called you earlier?”

“Yeah…?”

“Dustin, why don’t you tell Steve here what you found.”

Your brother sighs from the backseat. “A few days ago I found this… lizard of sorts.”

“A lizard.” Steve says, unimpressed.

“Oh, just wait,” you quip.

Dustin turns his head to glare at you and you give him a thumbs up. He scoffs at you before carrying on, “Yes, a lizard. I named him Dart and he was super cool, okay? I thought I had discovered a new species and that I would be super famous and better than everyone else.”

Steve glances at you next to him, raising his eyebrows and whistling low. “Wow, does humbleness run in your family, Y/N?”

“I’d say so, yeah.”

“Anyways,” Dustin interrupts, ignoring Steve’s laugh at your response. “Turns out, Dart is from the Upside Down.”

“The Upside Down?” Steve asks, extremely confused. He looks at you again in the mirror and it hits you that no one explained to him the events from last year. You assumed that Nancy would’ve, seeing as how they’ve been together for a while now and Steve had been with you guys at the hospital the night you brought Will back.

However, from his disbelief and confusion it’s clear that she hasn’t. If you had to guess, Steve probably went home that night and blocked out everything that had gone down with no questions asked.

You respect his repressing skills, honestly.

Dustin groans, beginning to grow impatient with Steve. “Yes, the Upside Down. If you have the bat still, how could you not know–”

“Do you remember that… thing we killed at Jonathan’s last year?” You cut your brother off before he can get too mean. You love the kid, you do, but he isn’t the kindest person when others aren't understanding him.

A dark look passes over Steve’s face and his fingers tighten around the steering wheel. It’s night now, and the atmosphere in the car becomes tense. “I remember.”

You clear your throat, “Well, this creature–”

“Demodog.” Dustin corrects from the backseat.

“Demodog?” You turn in your seat to face him. “That’s what we’re calling it now? Seriously?”

He shrugs. “It’s a baby demogorgon, it looks like a dog, so… Demodog.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Alright. Okay. Whatever, this demodog is from the Upside Down. It’s this parallel universe, basically. Creepy shit happens there, and last year a monster–”

“The Demogorgon.” Dustin once more interrupts.

“Dustin, if you want to catch Steve up then for the love of god, please shut up.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed.

A smile tugs at Steve’s lips and you take a deep breath to calm yourself before continuing. “Look, I don’t know how much Nancy told you about that night at Jonathan’s, but all that you need to know is that the Demogorgon took Will last year and we had to fight it in order to save him.”

Steve nods slightly as he follows along, “Nancy mentioned something about a monster at the hospital… she told me it’s what killed Barb, but never told me it had a name.”

Another silence falls between you guys in the car. The mention of Barb brings back bad memories for you both. You had liked Barb, she had always been nice to you, you guess. Hawkins is a small town. Everyone knows everyone, and in the end the smallness of the town is what makes the Upside Down so hard. You lose people close to you, one way or another.

And as for Steve… The roses he bought for Nancy lay wilted in his backseat.

Dustin shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and your heart pangs in understanding. He misses El, and you do too. The closer it gets to the anniversary of her disappearance, the more you miss the sweet and caring girl; but you know that the boys, Mike especially, haven’t given up hope for her.

“So…” Steve motions for you guys to continue explaining, and Dustin sits up in his seat to begin again.

“So flash forward to now: I didn’t realize Dart was a demodog until he grew like three damn sizes bigger than when I found him. Y/N and I almost died trying to lock him in our cellar.”

“Wait, you guys have a cellar?”

Dustin rubs his face, “That’s what you focus on, Steve?”

“It’s a valid question–”

“Guys!” You lurch yourself forward and wave your hands around wildly to break up their bickering. “We really don’t have time for this. Can we please just focus on the task at hand? Dart has probably grown even more during the course of this stupid conversation.”

Your brother’s hand pushes your shoulder back so that you’re now once again sitting, and you swat him away with annoyance. “Y/N, I’m trying! Blame Steve, he’s the one asking stupid questions–”

Steve speaks up, “What the hell? They aren’t stupid questions–”

“Well…”

Steve shoots you an offended look, “Y/N, I thought you were on my side.”

Dustin scoffs, hurt. “She’s my sister, you idiot!”

“Again, we seriously don’t have time for this because, once more: Dart is getting really big.” Your voice is louder this time, and thankfully it shuts everyone up. Then, just because you can, you add, “and I’m on Steve’s side right now. He’s the one with the car, plus… Well, I owe him.”

Steve fist pumps the air. “Suck it, little Henderson.”

“Do not call me that,” Dustin threatens him, then turns his attention to you. “First Jonathan, now Steve? Can’t you befriend anyone I like?”

The mention of Jonathan gets Steve attention. “Wait a sec, where is the guy? You never actually told me where he and Nancy went, Y/N.”

You sigh, knowing there’s no use keeping anything else from him. He’s already driving you and Dustin home to help with Dart, and you did promise to tell him where they were later, but life seemingly got in the way. “They’re playing detective right now.”

“Detective?”

“Yeah, the guy Barb’s parents hired… They’re currently at his place, exposing Hawkin’s Lab.”

A tense silence follows. Steve stares straight ahead, eyes on the road, as his expressions morph from hurt, to reluctance, to eventual acceptance. “Nance didn’t think to ask me to join?”

His voice wavers, just a bit, but you hear it. Knowing that Dustin is watching from the back, you decide to forget any possible boundaries for once and grab Steve’s hand. He’s hurting. The car smells of roses and there’s no girl to give them to. “She tried, Steve.”

He swallows. There’s hurt in his eyes and you want to reach out and stroke his cheek and tell him that it isn’t his fault. “I know…”

“Ahem,” Dustin coughs, clearly uncomfortable with whatever is going on. “So… Back to Dart.”

You clear your own throat, but your hand remains wrapped around Steve’s, who nods. “Wait a sec, how big are we talking?”

Without meaning to, you close your eyes and brace for Dustin’s witty remarks, but he surprises you by answering with a demonstration and zero mockery. “First it was like that,” he opens his fingers a few inches before using both hands to show about a foot in length. “Now he’s like this.”

Steve still looks doubtful. “And you’re sure it isn’t some weird lizard?”

A headache begins to form and you pinch the bridge of your nose again. “It’s not a lizard, Steve.”

“Well how do you know?”

“Because his face opened up and he ate our cat.” Dustin says bluntly.

This seems to shut Steve up and he nods his head in defeat. It’s silent in the car for the remainder of the drive, and just before Steve parks in your driveway, he looks over at you and sees your eyes closed in pain, and before he knows it he squeezes your hand and says, “sorry about your cat, by the way.”

Despite the pounding in your head and your utter exhaustion, his words make you laugh. “Just park, Steve.”

He smiles, feeling proud for getting you to laugh, and does as he’s told. Before you know it you’re standing at his trunk, staring at the baseball bat that saved your life last year. Dustin has already gone over to the cellar, waiting for you and Steve to follow.

The bat stares back at you, and you shiver as the memories come back. Though you had tried your best to forget that night, that entire week, honestly, it’s been useless. The nightmares still haunt you. You obsessively research trauma in children now to compensate for your own guilt from last year.

“Why’d you keep the bat?” You ask as Steve grabs it, giving it a practice swing. Your own blades are out again and he eyes their gleam.

“It’s kinda sick, don’t ya think?” He swings it again. “I look badass with it.”

He’s dodging, but you sense that he kept the bat for the same reason as why you kept the switchblade. You’ve been waiting in fear for something else to happen. “You don’t look too bad with it.”

Steve blushes a bit, which your stomach flutters seeing. “I, uh… Guess we can’t have that talk tonight?”

“No, not unless we somehow manage to deal with Dart in a timely manner. However, if I recall, nothing ever goes our way.”

“Nope!” He closes the trunk and tosses you a flashlight. Then, he sticks his hand out for you to shake. “But for now… Truce?”

You giggle. “Truce.”

His hand is warm, and even though you had just been holding it in the car moments earlier, his touch still fills you with a gooey warmth that you’ve come to associate with him. As soon as you and him are alone, away from Dustin’s nosy ears, you’ll really apologize to Steve. He may be being nice to you now, but he’s still guarding himself from you.

You hate it. You miss how open he used to be with you.

“Ready to go re-live my nightmares?” Steve asks.

You give him a thumbs up as you start heading towards Dustin. “Always, let’s go.”

“Took you guys long enough.” Your brother mutters when you and Steve arrive at the cellar, weapons in hand. You flash him an apologetic smile while Steve simply ignores him.

Steve approaches the door and listens for a second, “I don’t hear shit.”

You frown and listen as well. He’s right, it’s eerily silent. You shoot Dustin a questioning look and he shrugs as well, “He’s in there.”

“Duh, I know that much, You almost knocked me out when you shoved past me to get Dart in there.” you remark, before softly adding “he’s gotta be in there.”

Your words don’t reassure Steve, who begins to use the tip of his bat to bang against the locked doors. When nothing happens, he bangs harder against them before sighing in annoyance.

“All right, listen kid.” Steve begins, and you start to rub small circles into your scalp in a vain attempt to lessen your headache, because you already know that the next words out of his mouth will start yet another fight. “I swear, if this is some sort of Halloween prank, you’re dead.”

“Steve…” He ignores you and stares down your brother, shining the flashlight directly at his face in what you assume is meant to be a threatening manner.

“It's not a prank,” Dustin tiredly replies, squinting his eyes against the light. “Get it out of my face.”

Steve complies, still hesitant about the situation at hand, and turns to face you. “You got a key to this thing?”

You nod and fish the keys from out of your pocket and unlock the cellar doors. Steve bends down to investigate, and without him having to ask, you hand him the flashlight and step forward so that you’re next to him.

He flashes the light down the stairs and all that the three of you can see is darkness. An uneasy feeling creeps over you. Something isn’t right, but you really hope that you’re wrong.

“He has to be further down,” you say, more so to reassure yourself than the others.

Dustin shuffles his feet next to you and says, with an extremely unconvincingly “brave” voice, “I’ll stay up here in case he tries to… escape.”

Both you and Steve look at him in disbelief. Dustin stands his ground, however, and looks at the two of you expectantly. Steve shakes his head while you sigh in defeat. Your brother is such a pain sometimes.

“You do realize that if Dart eats me, you’ll have to deal with mom all by yourself, right?” You ask him.

The boy shrugs at you. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take, Y/N.”

“Yeah, love you too.” You mumble, before you begin to follow Steve down the steps.

“I’ll be thinking of you!” Dustin calls out, his voice echoing against the cellar walls.

You trail behind Steve, and the flashlight he brought does nothing to illuminate the dark area, so it’s a relief when he reaches above his head to turn the light on. As your eyes adjust to the light change, you scan the room to find the missing demodog. However, all your eyes land on is a long, thin sheet of film on the ground that you can only assume is molted skin.

“Oh, shit…” you breathe out. “This isn’t good.”

Steve picks the skin up with the tip of his bat and examines it and shakes his head. “Please tell me this isn’t Dart.”

“Actually, it’d be easier if it was him.”

Steve doesn’t laugh at your joke; he continues to look around the room before his eyes widen. You turn your head to see what’s caught his attention, and when you spot the problem, your knees weaken.

There’s a giant, Dart-sized hole in your cellar wall.

“Steve? Y/N? What’s going on down there?” Dustin’s voice carries down to you guys, and you and Steve share a nervous glance.

“Dustin…” You call up to him, your voice weaker than you’d prefer. You wish you could be braver for him at the moment, but right now it takes everything within you not to crawl into bed and shut the world out. Why did it always have to be giant monsters?

While you’re reeling, Steve walks over to the bottom of the steps and flashes his light at Dustin, instructing him to come down. Once the boy has joined you guys, Steve guides the light to his bat so that Dustin can see the skin.

“Oh, shit.”

“Funnily enough, that’s what your sister said, too.”

Then Steve shines the light to where the hole in the wall is, and you watch Dustin’s face go from concerned to horrified. “Oh, shit!”

The three of you crouch closer to the hole, and when Steve shines the flashlight through it, your heart stops and you gasp, “It’s a tunnel.”

“No way…” Dustin says in awe.

It’s hard to see exactly how deep the tunnel goes, but something tells you that there’s more to it than meets the eye. This wouldn’t be some simple fix like you had desperately hoped it would be.

Now you really, really wish Jonathan were here. And Nancy. Definitely Nancy.

But they aren’t. This time, you’re on your own with only Steve and Dustin by your side. No one else in the party is available, you don’t even know where they are or if they’re even safe, but right now that doesn’t matter.

What matters is that Dart has escaped.

And it’s happening again.

Everything you’ve tried so hard for the last year to ignore, to move on and pretend never happened to you, has come crashing back into your life.

Steve, seeing your apprehension, grabs your hand and pulls you in close. “Hey, we’ll figure it out. I’ll be here, okay?”

Even though you don’t deserve his kindness, his sincerity, you believe him.

-

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[capricornlevi]

no surprises - toji x reader

wc 1.6k - hitman!toji x mobwife!reader, fem!reader, strangers to lovers -dark elements (but not really related to sex -- toji breaks into reader's house to assassinate mob husband), cheating (technically -- reader's husband is a piece of shit lol)

nsfw, mdni

Toji hates it when his hits have wives or girlfriends.

As cruel a bastard as he may be, the thought of unnecessary collateral makes him uneasy to say the least. It's messy, too, unnecessary and uncomfortable. When one of his targets has a wife there's a sure guarantee she'll be by his side more often than not. It increases the risk for all parties, whether they know of their involvement or not.

He wonders why these men never have the decency to get a divorce before involving themselves in shit like this.

And so, as he carefully picks the lock to your kitchen window, he hopes that tonight's job is clean. That you'll stay out of his way.

Kill the guy, clean up, and ideally, get out without even waking you.

So imagine his surprise when he makes his way inside as planned, turns down the hallway to get to the bedroom he's so carefully mapped this past week, only to find you standing pyjama-clad in the hallway with arms crossed, looking at him with an expression one could only describe as inconvenienced.

"He's not here," you mumble, the words laced with sleep but still pointed.

Toji prides himself on being quick on his feet, but in this rare instance, he's lost for words. He doesn't even draw his weapon.

"Uh ... hm ... what?" he finally decides, though the words leave him without much active decision-making on his part, spilling out into the cold night air.

"He's not here," you repeat, enunciating each word slowly. "Did you not hear me? Though that would explain why you made such a fucking racket breaking in."

"What the fuck-"

"And you're replacing that lock, by the way," you spit, eyes heated with frustration as you give him a once over. "I heard you give up and break it."

Toji's head could explode right here and now. How has this ... this cannot be happening ... he's carried out hits numbering in the three digits, and not one target has ever seen him coming, much less the wife of some low-ranking gangster who stole the wrong amount of money from the wrong people.

Still, you don't shy away from him, keeping your gaze fixed on his increasingly confused face.

"What do ya mean he isn't here?" Toji huffs then, finally realising the futility of this situation. Standing there stupidly isn't going to improve his image, he needs to cut to the chase. "Is he out?"

You huff a laugh. "You could say that."

He arches a scarred brow. "He's dead?"

"May as well be," you answer plainly, devoid of any sympathy or grief. "Kicked him out on Sunday. Tried to steal my engagement ring and then went after my parents, mumbling some shit about collecting their life insurance policy even though the idiot isn't even named on it. So I made a call and the name of his hotel is with your bosses now."

"Then why didn't they--"

You roll your eyes, exasperated. "How should I know? They probably sent some other guys to the hotel and kept you here in case that worm came wriggling back."

Toji's not sure why, but he believes you -- probably because of the unafraid, unemotional manner in which you're delivering this information. As though you're a teacher scolding him for a failed assignment.

He releases his grip on the weapon tucked at his hip -- he doesn't even remember at which point he went to grab it -- silently swearing at a wasted evening.

Sure, he'll still get the flat rate for a call-out like this one, but if he has proof of death he gets triple pay. He could really use that this month; he likes having his lights stay on for longer than forty-eight hours at a time, and figured tonight would've been an easy job, particularly with how stupidly your husband has been acting these last few months.

"Uh ... okay. Sorry for inconveniencin' ya," he mumbles, figuring it best to leave now without wasting either of your time any further.

He could stay here and argue more, but he's not in the mood. He needs to get back. Plus, he's already disrupted your night enough -- as curtly as you've addressed him these past few minutes, he can't say he doesn't see where your frustration is coming from.

In this short interaction, he's developed a sort of begrudging respect for this woman who views an assassination attempt in the same way most would view a parking ticket.

"Wait!" you call out just as he turns around. He hesitates -- though you don't seem like the type to call the police given your knowledge of your husband's business.

Maybe you're not finished giving him shit for this embarrassment of a botched assignment?

"Yeah?" he answers dutifully, brushing his hair from his eyes with a tired swipe of his hand, turning back to face you.

"Want to have a drink with me?" you ask straight-forwardly, arms still crossed and expression unmoving. "He left his 20-year whiskey behind, and I haven't had new company since he weaselled his way into my life."

"I-"

"If you've nothing better to do, anyway."

This woman ...

He has never had as difficult a time reading someone in his entire lie.

"Well?" you press, a hint of impatience growing in that beautiful voice. "What do you want to do?"

Surprise once against takes precedence over any other emotion in Toji's body.

Tonight couldn't get any weirder. He's sure of it.

Except it definitely can, as he discovers just thirty minutes later, with you sitting atop him as he's spread out on your bed, riding him so hard the bed rattles against the wall.

This is a little fucked up. You both know it. He came here to kill your husband, but it's so hard for him to care about minor details like that when he sees how your tits bounce with every thrust upwards, how your face looks when it's torn in pleasure.

Your husband is a bigger idiot than he thought.

You haven't been touched like this in a long time, haven't had someone's hands on you like you deserve, and that thought enrages him for some reason.

His focus for tonight has shifted entirely. He's no longer out to kill, to hurt, his one responsibility is to make you cry out on his cock, on his tongue, on his fingers, until both of your voices are worn out and hoarse.

You're so pretty like this, so responsive to every twirl of his thumb and jerk of his hips.

Though -- and he hates to admit it -- you're exerting some control over him as well. His well-worn self-discipline is being tested like never before. On your couch just a few minutes ago, with his mouth spread against you and your leg tossed over his shoulder, you had managed to then manoeuvre yourself until your fist was wrapped around his cock, your pretty fingers stroking him until his breaths sounded choked and desperate, until a flush spread up his chest to his neck and jawline.

He had to still your wrist to keep from coming all over his own chest. That would lose him any shred of credibility he had left.

He's obsessed with the way you kiss him, too, so hungry and desperate with no sign of that earlier unshakability you possessed. He's sure you still have yourself in some semblance of control -- though he barely knows you, he knows you wouldn't relent that quickly -- but you release yourself a little, sinking into it with a quiet moan that sends ripples up his spine.

And now, with your hips sitting flush against his own, it's hard to imagine caring about a single other thing than the sight of his cock disappearing inside you.

You take him so well, every inch of him, knowing exactly what to say to drive him insane. In turn, he learns what he can from your reactions, each microexpression showing him how you like to be touched.

You toss your head back, that beautiful throat gulping down gasps of air in between cries of Toji's name, shoulders tight with the tension of keeping yourself seated on him.

He gives you more when you ask for it, pumping up into you and relishing the answering groans and mewls of pleasure.

(Honestly, he'd give you anything you wanted from him. He'd give you the shirt off his back if you requested it with those pretty doe eyes and your lips curled into that sly little smile.)

A familiar heat curls in his stomach but in a way he's entirely unfamiliar with; usually, it builds slowly and reliably, bit by bit, but this time it rises erratically and without any sign of when he's approaching the edge.

This is dangerous. You're dangerous for him, you have him in the palm of your hand and hold the ability to crush him into tiny pieces if you so wish. It scares him while also sending pulses of pleasure straight to his cock, coupled with the feeling of your throbbing clit as he circles it with his thumb --

Thankfully, you fall apart at the same time, spasms of pleasure overtaking every single thought in either of your heads.

As you settle into the afterglow, Toji is in no rush to move you or shift himself. He runs a roughened hand over your thigh, the skin smooth as silk, marvelling at how you shiver under the touch.

He just looks up at you, that hint of confusion from earlier still present but accompanied by something else.

Strange, he thinks to himself. Not a wasted evening after all.

[apclyptc]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN PT.2—matt ver.

foreword: please read the first part linked here for this to make any sense! i mean technically u could read it as a stand alone but it’s best read with part one 😇

warnings: nice little makeout sesh, fingering, love bites, praise, lots of praise, erm insert more warnings here

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“i pick… matt.” you spoke.

matt’s eyes widened, but only for a moment. you suddenly felt like a fool, he was one of your best friends, you’d known him forever.

but at the same time, this had been a long time coming. it was going to happen sooner or later, right?

nate’s voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“i was not expecting that! i think this game has been my best idea ever so far.”

you rolled your eyes playfully, “don’t get so ahead of yourself, this game is still stupid. but i will admit that it has been funny.” you turned to matt again, his face unreadable and it made you nervous.

“so uh, which room are we even going in?” matt’s eyes averted from yours. oh god, is he going to let you down gently? was his hand on your thigh just a friendly pat and you’d read into it too much because you wanted him to touch you just once?

you’d simply die if that was the case. was it too late to choose waylon?

nate pointed towards upstairs. oh god.

“pick any room. well maybe not mine, i still have to sleep in it tonight.” nate winked, causing a few of the others to laugh.

“cmon, we’ll only be up there for ten minutes. don’t be ridiculous.” matt shrugged off his friend’s suggestive comment and stood from his chair, signalling you to stand too.

‘we’ll only be up there for ten minutes’. you wondered what you’d get up to if you had longer.

you followed matt up the stairs into what looked like a spare room, and he shut the door.

“nate has really outdone himself this time, don’t you think?” matt asked, as if he was putting himself off of an inevitable and awkward conversation.

“yeah… it almost makes me scared to think he’ll try to one-up this next time.” you responded. now that you were up here alone, you were realising the errors of your ways and you desperately wished that ten minutes would be over as quick as it started.

“listen, y/n. we’ve been friends for a long time now, so i understand if you want to just sit here and wait out the ten minutes.” he explained.

the way he worded it made it seem like he didn’t want to just sit here, but he was okay with it if you were.

surely not…

“we could do that,” you began, mentally noting that his face dropped ever so slightly, “or maybe we could… never mind.” you realised half way through your reply that you couldn’t bear to hear yourself say the words to him.

but matt wasn’t going to let that happen, not now, knowing that maybe what he was feeling was reciprocated.

“we could what?” he stepped closer to you, the room feeling smaller than it was when you first walked in.

“it doesn’t matter, it was stupid.” your breath hitched in your throat, he was getting closer and closer to you until there was barely any space left between you.

“tell me. i just want to hear you say it, once.” matt’s hand came up to rest on the side of your neck, the hand that was adding pressure to your thigh not long ago.

“i mean, it’s just a game, right? so we could… just…” you trailed off as his lips came into contact with yours. it was a soft, slow kiss, that melted your brain into mush.

“this isn’t just a game to me.” he spoke before reconnecting his lips to yours. soft and slow was no longer how your kiss could be described. no, this time it was desperate, charged, with clanging teeth and roaming hands.

you couldn’t believe one silly card game could put you in such a position.

matt walked you to the edge of the bed, sitting both of you down and placing his hand back on your thigh. you pressed them together, trying to distract yourself from the arousal that was no doubt pooling underneath your skirt.

pulling away from you, he mumbled, “i was hoping you felt the same way.”

the needy expression on your face was more than enough of an indicator, but if there was any doubt in his mind, it was instantly quelled when you took his hand and let him touch the dampness of your underwear. he sighed with want, dragging his fingers along the wet spot.

“please, we don’t have long.” you pleaded, and who was he to deny you?

tugging the waistband of your panties down your legs, he admired the glistening of your pussy, begging to be touched.

“so pretty.” a single finger swiped at your core, and you let out a short breath.

matt slowly increased his pace, stroking up and down at your leaking cunt, as if mesmerised by it.

truth be told, he couldn’t believe such a thing was happening. he’d had only the smallest of feelings for you when you were younger, but they had quickly blossomed into something much more, or rather they had torpedoed into a carnal desire for you once you had traded hoodies for tube tops.

he couldn’t control his urges for you any more than you could.

“matt,” you pleaded again, aching for more, “please.”

matt could cum solely from the sounds escaping your throat alone, but he had decided to use his ten minutes to make you feel good rather than himself.

using his fingers already coated in your slick, he pushed them inside you. the moan you let out had surprised the both of you, and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand, letting your other stabilise yourself on his shoulder.

“keep quiet, you don’t want everyone downstairs to hear, do you?” he spoke softly, and you weren’t sure if he actually wanted an answer to his question, though you weren’t in any position to answer. you were too focused on muffling your moans with your hand.

just like he had done downstairs, matt attached his lips to your neck, leaving another bite next to the other, this one darker than the first.

he pulled his head back to admire his work.

“i’d love to cover you in these,” he continued thrusting his fingers into you, “they suit you.”

you felt a twang in your stomach.

“you, fuck, you should leave them in places where no one can see but you.” you panted, struggling to speak without whining expletives.

“yeah? you want that?” matt glanced down at where his hand connected with your pussy, and used his thumb to touch your clit.

“ohhh fuck, yes i want that, keep doing that.” you felt yourself already slipping over the edge, getting closer and closer to sweet release.

“knock knock!” nate’s voice taunted from outside the room as he thudded on the door, “times up!”

you instantly felt embarrassed. did he hear all of that?

“i guess we weren’t quick enough.” matt pulled his fingers out of you.

“yeah i guess no-” your words were cut short by matt sticking the fingers that were just inside of you, into your mouth.

“clean my fingers for me, would you? i got them all messy.” he smirked at the implications of his words.

you did as you were told and licked your own arousal off his hand, feeling your cunt clench.

“there’s a good girl.”

straightening yourself out, you opened the door to a beaming nate.

“so? did you keep my sheets clean?” he asked.

“shut up, dude. we didn’t even do anything.” matt denied, walking past nate and back downstairs with you to the others.

nate followed behind, “then how come y/n has another hickey?”

like a deer in headlights, you stopped in your tracks.

“no comment.”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

a/n oh my god this is so so so ass. this is what i get for getting drunk instead of updating and having to rush writing this bc everyone’s waiting.

regardless, i hope it was worth the wait! now all i have to do is write the whole chris chapter and pray it doesn’t come out as terribly as this

bye….

© APCYLPTC 2023. do not repost, translate, or duplicate any of my works here or any other websites.

[cardinal-crossing]

Another edition to the flower series!! I had a lot of fun once again, and I think this one took even longer, at just shy of 7 hours. I am so happy that I'm graduating in a few days so I can do more stuff like this. It really does make me very happy to just sit down and paint for a few hours. This piece is a companion piece to the Emmet One, I did a few days ago.

Again, the flower meanings will be under the cut, but read at your discretion because it makes the piece sad.

Alright so flower meanings! Again most of the flowers mean grief in some aspect, but it's also related to memory (or the loss of) Rosemary Flowers (top left in the hat): Rosemary flowers usually represent love and remembrance. In this case, they represent Ingo's love for his missing person but the pain that comes with not being able to remember.

Asphodel Flowers (On the left near Ingo's face): The Asphodel flowers mean, "My regrets follow you to the grave," but it can also mean, "I will remember you beyond the tomb." The second meaning is the one that I am referencing, as Ingo will likely never see Emmet again, but he remembers that he misses someone, and regrets that he never got to meet them again.

White Camellia (over the eye): This flower means a few different things, but the one that I am referencing is the meaning "longing for you." I believe the camellia is akin to the rose, where its more familiar meaning is romance or heartbreak. Still, the meaning I am deriving from is one of the Victorian languages of flowers (there is a fantastic book I will reference at the very end of it is incredible and I love it dearly) Anyway, this flower is self-explanatory in the way that Ingo longs for the person he never remembers and likely will never see again, but he wishes he could. Forget-Me-Nots (on the right by Ingo's face): I reused this flower from the other piece to connect the two pieces, but I'll reuse the meaning here, as I am using it in the same context. Forget-me-nots represent true love; this flower means love and respect towards the person it is gifted to, and the person will never be forgotten in your thoughts. I am slightly alluding to maybe Ingo being gifted this flower by Emmet before he departed, as a reminder that someone respects and loves him very much, but Ingo cannot remember who. However, I haven't decided yet. Lily of the Valley (Very bottom in the bouquet): The lily of the valley's lesser-known meaning, the pain, and loss that comes with death, is the one I'm using. Representing Ingo's minimal memory of Emmet and Emmet essentially dying within Ingo's mind as Ingo makes a new home for himself in Hisui. However, despite all the sadness and loss, Ingo hasn't forgotten entirely. Willow Tree Leaves (on the right side in the hat band): I reused these as well, as I really like the shape of the leaves and how I worked it into the piece, I'll also reuse the same explanation of the meaning. While not technically a flower, the willow tree has its own meaning. A willow tree often represents sorrow and loss, as well as mourning. OKAY! Here is my rant about flowers. Also, the book I referenced is Florigrophy by Jessica Roux. I love all the illustrations, and the writing and explanations are wonderful. I am working on getting a copy of my own, as I have been borrowing the one from my school library, but it is wonderful. I would recommend it. Thank you so much for reading this! I love flowers, and painting them is one of my favorite things.

[emphistic]

Cheek to Cheek

<- series m.list

“I think I know a way to make this evening more exciting,” a cool voice cut you off midway. “Mind if we join you?”

You knew that voice. When you turned around, you were met with the face of. . .

“Eileen?”

You weren’t expecting to meet your friend here, but it looked like she also had company herself. Standing behind her was a man you had never seen before; his copper-colored hair tousled, eyes darting all over the place, and hands fidgeting like crazy. You would’ve assumed he was Eileen’s boyfriend, but on second thought, he was the complete opposite of her type.

Before you could get out another word, Eileen turned her full attention on your boyfriend. “Hi, I’m Eileen. Eileen Mifune. I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

The blonde spoke with a strangely smooth voice you had never heard her use, even after having been friends for a little over three years. She was always an overly serious, elegantly sharp woman, but right now, it sounded as if she was flirting, or even trying to seduce your boyfriend. The idea wasn’t as far-fetched as it sounds, if you had to be completely honest.

Sukuna turned to face your friend with an indifferent expression on his face. “No, we haven’t.”

Surprised by his curt reply, Eileen looked as if she was waiting for Sukuna to give his name in introduction, but it never came.

For some reason, the tension in the room was slowly rising. And, since you were the mutual friend, you thought it only right if you introduced everyone to each other. “Eileen, this is Sukuna, my friend—boyfriend,” you let out a cough to disguise your slip up. “And, well, Sukuna, you already know her name. But, uhm, shouldn’t you introduce us to—?”

“Oh, him?” Eileen turned around, jutting a thumb at the man behind her. “He’s my cousin, just in case you were getting any other ideas. If he wasn’t, he definitely wouldn’t be my type, F.Y.I. But,” Eileen’s voice took an excessively sweet tone as she turned back to Sukuna, “I know someone who is.”

Eileen placed a hand on Sukuna’s arm and he immediately responded with a grimace, shrugging her off. Your friend had been a natural born flirt from the start; this behavior wasn’t unusual for her. But that didn’t mean it was okay; Sukuna was technically your boyfriend. Fake or not. And besides, it’s not like she knew your guys’ arrangement.

Even after getting blatantly rejected, Eileen brushed it off with a soft laugh, as if she wasn’t affected. And, without missing a beat, she sat herself down at your and Sukuna’s table. To be more specific, she chose to sit right beside Sukuna, who appeared more annoyed than anything.

When Eileen noticed her cousin was still awkwardly standing by, she couldn’t help the scowl that made its way onto her face. “Well? Are you just going to stand there like a stranger?”

The “stranger” decided to sit down, though reluctantly, and ignored all eye contact as he did so. Coincidentally, he chose the seat right next to you. And, after looking at him for a bit, he really looked like he didn’t want to be there, but he had no choice.

Sukuna called the waiter for another round of drinks, and from there, the conversation gradually began to pick up again. Sukuna was a naturally charismatic guy, and though he clearly didn’t like the extra company, he did like having an excuse to talk about himself.

While Sukuna was doing that, you turned to the copper-haired man beside you. “Hey, uhm, you never told us your name.” You quickly introduced yourself as Eileen’s friend, and he decided to do the same.

“Naoki. Eileen already told you, but, yeah, we’re cousins.”

You could see a faint smile forming on Naoki’s lips as he continued on. “That’s a nice name, Naoki. So, how come you and Eileen are here tonight? Out for drinks?”

“Ah, not really. Eileen and I were just walking down the street, and she spotted you through the window. Told me she hadn’t seen you in weeks and wanted to say ‘hi’.”

You couldn’t help but note that Eileen never actually said ‘hi’ to you, or any sort of greeting in general. Since entering the bar, she had been totally ignoring you except for a few short responses here and there, but that was it. The blonde had been completely immersed in conversation with Sukuna ever since, she seemed to laugh at every little thing he said or did.

Though it was a little odd, you didn’t want to start up an argument over it. So you acted as if nothing was amiss, and smiled at Naoki. “I haven’t seen you around here before, do you live far?”

Naoki laughed, “No, just a visitor. I’ll only be here for a week or so. I’ve been checking out possible apartments and homes, y’know. Looking for a place to stay and all that.”

As he spoke, Naoki slowly but surely seemed to gain confidence. Compared to how he was when you first noticed him, you would’ve mistaken him for two different people.

“Oh! So Eileen’s been showing you around the city? That’s nice of her.”

In reply, Naoki nodded. “Say, was I hearing you right when you introduced Sukuna as your . . . boyfriend?” The tips of his ears started to redden as he asked his question, and you couldn’t help but also flush a bit at how unexpected it was.

“. . .That’s right.”

Naoki’s smile seemed to drop after hearing your confirmation, but he composed himself so quickly afterwards that you almost missed it.

There was an awkwardness between you and Naoki for a few moments, but after you changed the subject, the rest of the evening went by pretty fast. You gained a new friend, and Sukuna got to boast all night long. But, while you were busy getting to know Naoki, you missed the way Sukuna’s stare was practically burning two holes in the back of your head.

Although Eileen and him did share some things in common, and their conversation wasn’t as boring as he thought it would be, Sukuna still thought that she was probably the most annoying woman he ever had to sit next to.

Her hand brushed his so many times that he wanted to flip the table over. Every time she tried to subtly scooch closer to him, Sukuna moved backwards. It happened so frequently, that by the end of night, Sukuna was practically sitting on top of you. And if it meant he would be far away from Eileen, you best believe he would sit on you.

And if that wasn’t enough, Sukuna thought Naoki was just as bad (even though they never said even a word to each other). He could tell, from the moment he noticed the copper-haired guy, that Naoki was gonna be nothing but trouble for him. Sukuna knew better than anyone that the reason Naoki was so fidgety was probably because he was sitting next to you.

He’s definitely never touched a woman in his life, Sukuna thought. Was that mean of him to think? Yes. But this is Sukuna we’re talking about, what did you expect?

-

“So, what did you think of Eileen yesterday?” you asked, plopping yourself down beside Sukuna on the couch.

“She might be the second bane of my existence.” Sukuna passed you the remote.

“Second?” You raised a brow.

Sukuna wrapped an arm around the back of the couch, turning to you with an expressionless face. “You’re the first.”

You scoffed, “Excuse me?”

“Pfft—what did you expect? I mean, I generously pass you the remote and you have the audacity to turn on some fuckass romance movie.”

You gasped, unable to believe your ears. “Pride and Prejudice (2005) is not some fuckass romance movie. You take that back right now.”

“It’s about some stupid girl and some rich guy. It can not be as good as you think it is.”

“You haven’t read or watched it! How would you know?”

Sukuna shrugged. “Whatever. What’s it actually about, then, Miss Know-it-all?”

You seriously could not believe this guy, but before you knew it, you were rambling on with abandon.

“It’s a love story between two people of completely opposite status who have to overcome their prejudices and pride. Elizabeth comes from a less fortunate family than Mr. Darcy, and, because of that, a lot of problems ensue.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “Just ‘cause she’s poor?”

“Yeah, Mr. Darcy’s pretty prideful, huh,” you laughed, referencing the title.

“Sounds like a dick.”

“He’s hot, though, so it kind of makes up for it.”

Shaking his head, Sukuna said, “You have no self respect.”

“Joking, joking. But, ah, yeah. He is kind of a dick. I mean, he interferes with his best friend’s love life. Even when Mr. Bingley was at the peak of his relationship with Jane, Darcy decided to butt in because he felt that Jane didn’t return Bingley’s affection.”

You subconsciously fidgeted with the ends of the blanket draped over your body as you explained the plot of the movie which had yet to unpause.

“Anyways, Darcy convinces Bingley to leave Hertfordshire, and that kind of sends Jane into a spiral.”

“So, she’s depressed. Because of some man who’s basically breaking up with her?”

“Sukuna, you’re a man.”

“. . .”

“Okay, uhm. Where did I leave off? Oh, right. So Elizabeth basically gets invited by her aunt to go on this Northern tour or something, I forgot what it was exactly, but, something like that. One of their “sightseeing destinations” was Pemberley, which is Mr. Darcy’s estate.”

Sukuna leaned closer to you, clearly invested in the story. “Oh shit.”

“I know right? So, originally, Mr. Darcy wasn’t supposed to be at home while Elizabeth and her aunt and uncle were there; he was taking care of business, I believe? But then, he was; he arrived, I guess.”

“Oh shit.”

You nodded, continuing your story.

Putting aside the moments where Sukuna gave his two cents, you noticed he was actually giving you his undivided attention whilst you talked about some book he swore up and down was probably boring as shit. And, as a matter of fact, Sukuna was rarely this quiet. Maybe he just really likes drama, you thought. But you were wrong.

Because your eyes were focused on your lap the whole time you spoiled Pride and Prejudice, you didn’t notice the way Sukuna’s eyes were on you all the while. He found it cute the way you got a subtle twinkle in your eye whenever you talked of something you were passionate about. And the way you looked as if you were reminiscing about whatever it was that occupied your mind.

Yeah, Pride and Prejudice didn’t really tickle his fancy, but you did. So it worked out in the end. You got to ramble about an interest of yours, and Sukuna got a chance to admire his girlfriend with no interruption.

Bringing Sukuna out of his train of thought was your sudden and exaggerated groan. “Ugh, I think I skipped some parts while explaining.”

Sukuna shrugged, “I’ll just see it in the movie, then.”

The hours rolled past as the movie started, but you noticed, from the corner of your eye, that Sukuna was hardly paying any attention to the movie. Rather, he was staring at you. In fact, he didn’t even notice when you looked back at him.

Weird, you thought, we’re at the good part.

Ignoring how badly you wanted to keep watching Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth together, you paused the movie and turned to Sukuna. “Okay, what’s up?”

“Nothing?”

You cocked your head to the side, an expecting look on your face. “You’re a terrible liar . . . by the way. What’s on your mind?”

“. . .If we’re supposed to be a ‘successful couple’, we should probably kiss every now and then, right?”

Well, that was totally unexpected. You thought Sukuna was going to say something about how boring the movie was, how shit the actors were, but you couldn’t have been farther from the truth. For a minute, you were completely stunned, your cheeks warming, and your eyes widening ever so slightly.

Sukuna looked a bit flustered himself, as well. He avoided your eyes—but, not like you noticed; you were looking all over the place, too—and swallowed the lump in his throat, before turning back to stare at the TV and unpause the movie.

“Forget it,” he mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked like a sulky child that didn’t get what he wanted, it was cute.

You shook your head, getting out of your trance. And when you regained the ability to move, you quickly snatched the remote from Sukuna’s tight grip and paused the movie once more. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, you thought, will just have to wait.

“Babe, I said, ‘Forget it’.”

Unpause.

“Sukuna, no.”

Pause.

“Sukuna, yes.”

Unpause.

For some strange reason, all of a sudden, a battle of unpausing and pausing Pride and Prejudice (2005) began between you and Sukuna. Sure, you had fought for the remote with your siblings when you were a kid, but this was totally different. Back then, you were fighting to pick the movie. Now, you were fighting to talk about kissing your best friend. While Sukuna was fighting to not talk about kissing his best friend.

It was really silly.

You chased a remote-wielding Sukuna around the apartment for approximately ten minutes before you finally gave up, and stopped to catch your breath. Maybe you shouldn’t have underestimated someone who used to run track in high school, you mentally facepalmed.

“Okay, okay, let’s call a truce,” you raised your hands in surrender. “I—” you wheezed, “I didn’t know you were so invested in Pride and Prejudice that you would run off just to have the movie unpaused.”

Sukuna eyed you warily, still gripping the remote in his hand as if his life depended on it. “Is that supposed to be your attempt at a joke?”

You frowned, “You’re hurting my feelings.”

To your surprise, Sukuna actually looked like he was about to apologize. He opened and closed his mouth, and, overall, seemed like a fish out of water. Geez, he must be taking the boyfriend role very seriously.

Seizing your one in a million chance, you tackled Sukuna down onto the kitchen floor, straddling his thighs, and successfully snatched the remote from his hand. All in the blink of an eye.

“You should never let your guard down, ‘Kuna,” you laughed.

Sukuna, looking unamused, merely scoffed. “I was actually being considerate of your feelings, and you used that to your advantage? What a wicked woman you are.”

“It takes one to know one.”

“Oh,” Sukuna raised a brow, “so I’m a woman, now?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “You know what I mean.”

Sukuna shrugged.

“Okay, anyway. We have to talk about it. I mean,” you paused, heat rising to your cheeks, “I’ve been thinking about it, too, y’know. Couples kiss, and—and we’re a couple. If I’m gonna lift this curse, we’re gonna have to sell this act, Sukuna.”

Sukuna covered his eyes with his hand, stifling a laugh as the corners of his mouth tugged into a grin. “Whatever you say, silly girl.”

“Uhm, so, how are we going to do this, exactly?”

“Do what?”

“. . .Kiss. . .”

Sukuna stared back at you. “Who said we were kissing?”

“I mean, we’ve gotta fool these dating gods so they can, like, rid me of this godforsaken curse. And, if we’re a couple, we’re gonna have to kiss like one.”

“So you’re suggesting we . . . ‘practice’?”

“Well, yeah. . . Practice makes perfect.” You folded your hands on your lap, eyes darting around the room endlessly.

A pregnant pause ensued, where neither you nor Sukuna wanted to be the next one to speak up. But, eventually, Sukuna sat up, and shifted you to a more comfortable position sitting on his lap.

“Relax, sweetheart. You’re so tense.”

You bit your lip, whisper-shouting, “How am I supposed to relax?”

“Pfft. It’s almost as if there’s a rock sitting on top of me,” joked Sukuna.

“Okay, if you’re just here to make fun of me, then you can leave—mmph!”

Sukuna grabbed your face in his hands and cut you off with a kiss that managed to make you feel like jelly in his grasp, despite how chaste it was. Yet, you couldn’t help the goofy expression that formed on your face soon afterwards.

“Is that it?” you teased, grinning ear to ear.

Sukuna rolled his eyes. “The fuck is your—”

Now was your turn to cut Sukuna off with another kiss, more ardent than the last. You gripped the collar of his hoodie and pulled his face closer to yours, your noses knocking into each other as you two clumsily locked lips for what felt like hours.

“Simply Platonic Kissing Practice” is what you called this in your head despite the obvious sensation of Sukuna deepening the kiss ever so slightly. You felt a warm, buzzy feeling inside, as if you had just drank some liquor. All feeling was increased immensely, and every time Sukuna’s hands traveled from the back of your neck, to gripping your chin, to traveling down the small of your back, you couldn’t help pressing your body impossibly closer to his.

But yes, this was still “Simply Platonic Kissing Practice” between friends, nevertheless. And, it didn’t matter if it was sloppy, or messy, there would always be other opportunities for you two to get better, to learn each other’s patterns, habits, sweet spots. But those opportunities simply weren’t available right now. Because. . .

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!

Sukuna didn’t pull away right after he heard the buzzing of a phone, but his grip on your hips did loosen just a little. You didn’t notice it; it was a miniscule difference; but it happened.

Slightly annoyed, you let go of Sukuna’s hoodie, and wiped your mouth with the back of your palm as you straightened your back. “Is that mine?”

Sukuna swallowed. “Yours.”

You begrudgingly got up from your position on the floor, and huffed as you walked around the apartment, looking for your phone. “It better not be work,” you muttered.

You answered just before the last ring sounded, and forced out a clearly irritated greeting. “Hello?”

A familiar voice came from the other line.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Butternut Squash (The Surprise, Part 19)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, mentions of female anatomy/breastfeeding, explicit language (let me know if I missed anything!) Word count: 2.2k

Summary: You and Emily don't really need a baby shower, but you do need help getting the nursery ready, so the whole BAU comes over one Saturday to help out.

Week 29: The Butternut Squash

You had insisted on no gifts. You and Emily had plenty of money. You didn’t need a registry, and you didn’t need a baby shower. What you did need was help getting the nursery decorated and set up. So Emily–fresh off a 4-day case–had invited the entire BAU over to help prep the nursery on a rare, free Saturday.

“Emily,” you complained that Friday morning when she came home. “I won’t even have time to make food!”

“You don’t need time to make food,” she chastised, wrapping her arms around you from behind and resting her chin on your shoulder. “Because we’re just gonna have it delivered.”

You scoffed. “I always cook, Em. It’s my whole thing!”

She turned you around and grasped your face in her hands, kissing the tip of your nose, then moving to your lips. You huffed impatiently, even as your stomach erupted in butterflies (and maybe a few kicks from the baby) when Emily kissed you. “Okay, well, right now your whole thing is being seven months pregnant, so…”

“I could at least make cookies…” you grumbled. “If you get me chocolate chips from the store?”

Emily raised her eyebrows at you, but smiled lightly. “Will it make you happy?”

“Mmhm,” you confirmed, turning on the charm and your very best puppy dog eyes.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, kissing you one more time for good measure and grabbing her keys from the counter. “I can’t say no to you when you look at me like that.”

“Thank you, my love!” you called after her, a little too giddy with your grocery store victory.

“Yeah, yeah…” she muttered, shutting the door, but you knew she was smiling behind it.

But, now, here you were. Saturday, mid-morning. A plate of fresh-baked, homemade brown butter chocolate chip cookies on a plate on the coffee table… along with gifts from every single member of the BAU. Despite insisting they not bring any.

Hotch sat in the living room with you, playing Mario Kart on the Switch with Dave and Jack. Penelope gossiped with you on the couch. Meanwhile, Emily was running operations in the nursery, and every so often you could hear her ordering Derek and Spencer around. It made you giggle. JJ squeezed your shoulder, hovering back and forth between rooms.

“You need anything, Y/N?” she asked.

“I’m okay,” you assured her. “Thanks, JJ. Just… make sure Emily doesn’t get too bossy.”

JJ laughed. “Oh, I’m not sure anyone can do that.”

“Can we do gifts now? I think we should do gifts! Open mine, Y/N!” Penelope insisted, patting the spot next to her on the couch for JJ and handing you a glittery gift bag. You should’ve known they wouldn’t listen when you’d said not to bring gifts. You would’ve done the same thing. They were your family, after all.

You pulled out the tissue paper to reveal several tiny baby onesies in bright colors with adorable designs and sayings. Happy Camper. Silly Little Bear. Even one with tiny dinosaurs all over that said Babysaurus. Your heart felt like it might burst thinking about how cute your little one was going to look in these.

“Penelope, these are so cute!” You wrapped her in a hug. “I’m gonna send you so many pictures of her in these!”

“I know you guys are waiting to find out the gender, so I tried to pick ones that were gender neutral. Although, I mean I guess technically every outfit is gender neutral or… should be, or–”

You stopped her before she spiraled. “They’re perfect."

Before you knew it, Jack was pressed up against you, shoving another gift bag into your hands.

“Open ours, Aunt Y/N!”

You wrapped an arm around him and gave him a squeeze. “Thanks, buddy. I can’t wait to see what it is!”

You pulled out the most adorable stuffed gray wolf, soft as velvet, complete with two little pointy felt teeth sticking out.

“Oh, Jack, it’s perfect!”

“His name is Wolfie,” Jack told you, snatching the toy back.

“Jack,” Hotch scolded. “Remember, that’s for Aunt Emily and Aunt Y/N’s baby. It’s not yours.”

Hotch looked at you apologetically, and you shook your head to let him know it wasn’t a big deal.

“I made you this picture, too,” Jack said, handing you a crumpled piece of paper. You smoothed it out to find stick figures of you and Emily. He’d drawn your belly as a big circle, with a tiny swaddled baby inside of it. You grinned.

“Now, this is art, Jack. This is going right on the fridge.”

“This is you,” he said, pointing. “And this is Aunt Emily. And this is the baby inside your tummy.”

Speaking of the baby, she was incredibly active right now. Almost as if she, too, was happy to be with her BAU family.

“You want to feel her kick?” you asked Jack, and he nodded. You grasped his hand in yours and pressed it over your baby bump, estimating at the last place she’d kicked. Jack screeched when he felt her kick his hand, jumping on his tiptoes.

“Oh my gosh!” he squealed. “Oh my gosh! Daddy, there’s an alive baby in there!”

Hotch smiled at you. He was such a good dad. A good team leader. A good friend to you and Emily.

“After she’s born, Jack, you’ll have to come over and hold her,” you told him, but he was already gone, distracted the Switch.

“Aw, crap,” Dave exclaimed as Hotch hit him with a red shell. Hotch chuckled. “Y/N, go ahead and open up mine,” Dave said. “I’ve already lost this race. It’s the one with the silver paper.”

Penelope grabbed the gift for you, since your arms wouldn’t quite reach all the way to the coffee table. You ripped off the paper to reveal a box set that read, “Ciao Pasta Bistro.” It included a tiny little metal stock pot and colander, little ladles, and soft felt pasta shapes–bowties and raviolis and elbow noodles and shells.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, looking it over. Penelope and JJ leaned next to you to get a closer look. “This is freaking adorable.”

“The little meatball’s gonna know her pasta shapes if Uncle Dave has anything to say about it!” Dave called, cheering as he zoomed past Hotch with Star Power.

“Thank you so much, Dave,” you said, and you really meant it. They were such thoughtful gifts, so particular to each of them. You couldn't wait to show the baby, to let her get to know her BAU family, too.

JJ waited until everyone was distracted and Penelope had been dragged into Mario Kart (“Okay, but I’ll win! They don’t call me a tech goddess for nothing!”) to give you her gift. She sat next to you and pulled a bag from underneath the coffee table.

“These are more for you than for the baby,” JJ explained. “But if your pregnancy is anything like mine, you’ll get plenty of baby gifts, but not a whole lot of mom gifts.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you, JJ.” You squeezed her hand.

She pulled things out one by one, displaying them discreetly and explaining their purpose. “Listen, your nipples will hurt so bad. So bad. Just telling it like it is. So…” She held up a plastic tube. “Nipple cream. This one was my favorite. Also, silver nursing cups. I can’t explain why the silver makes them less sore, but it does.”

You nodded, feeling both overwhelmed and extremely grateful. “It’s basic, but there’s also a food delivery gift card in here. I know you love to cook, but I promise you’re not gonna feel like it for a while after giving birth.”

“JJ, I don’t know what to say. This is so nice.”

She held up a finger to stop you. “Last gift.” She pointed to herself. “Me and Will. We’re happy to babysit. Often, if you like.” When she saw you start to protest, she said, “Look, Henry’s getting older, and I really miss baby snuggles. So it’s really no trouble at all.”

You felt like you might cry. It wasn’t that nobody paid attention to you or took care of you during your pregnancy. Emily took excellent care of you. It was just that JJ was right. Most people looked at the end of your pregnancy and the birth of the baby as the end of the hard part for the birthing parent. But you knew that wasn’t going to be the case. And JJ knew, too. You were so grateful for her friendship, for her support.

“Thank you so much, JJ,” you said quietly, pulling her in for a hug.

“Oh, are you opening gifts?” Spencer asked, entering the room and hovering quietly behind you.

“Yep!” you said, watching him retrieve a tidy package wrapped in newspapers and hand it to you. You looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you guys done with the nursery already!?”

Spencer chuckled. “Oh, no. Not even close. I just snuck out while Emily was yelling at Morgan.”

You shrugged and started tearing the paper. “That tracks.”

Inside Spencer’s package was a set of colorful board books with titles like Quantum Physics for Babies, General Relativity for Babies, and Rocket Science for Babies.

“Spencer, these are awesome!” you exclaimed, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Baby Prentiss is gonna be a genius.”

“You know, that’s probably true,” Spencer observed, taking Penelope's place in front of the TV next to Jack. “Scientifically speaking, children inherit their intelligence from their mother, not their father. So no matter how intelligent or unintelligent the donor was, the baby will inherit your intellect. And you’re really smart, so it’s likely the baby will be, too.”

“Trust Reid to come with a prepped science lesson,” Emily said, poking her head around the corner.

You threw a balled-up piece of wrapping paper in Emily’s general direction. “Zip it, Em! I like hearing about what Spencer knows.”

“Nerd,” she muttered under her breath, coming up behind you to place her hands on your shoulders and kiss the top of your head. “You alright? You need anything?”

You squeezed her hand. “I need you... to stop being so mean to Derek.”

“Thank you!” Derek exclaimed, emerging from the hallway to shove Emily out of the way and plant a kiss on your cheek. “It’s nice to know someone around here cares about Uncle Derek.”

Emily shoved him back. “Yeah, well, I don’t want to have to tell the little butternut squash that you wussed out of painting his nursery one wall in.”

Derek grabbed one of the cookies from the coffee table and took a bite, momentarily closing his eyes in enjoyment. You smiled. This is why you loved cooking and baking.

“Listen, Prentiss,” he teased. “I’m taking a well-deserved break. You’re lucky I love your girl or I wouldn’t put up with this shit.”

“Ooh!” Jack squealed. “He said a bad word!”

Derek looked at Hotch apologetically, then reached down to grab the last unopened gift bag. 

“Here, mama,” he said, handing it to you. “Saved the best for last.”

You grinned at him, handing Emily the loose tissue paper as you opened the gift. Inside was a collection of soft toys that included a football, a whistle, and a little number one finger.

“Oh, man, are we gonna have a little football fan, Uncle Derek?” you asked, grinning cheekily.

“Not just any football fan,” he insisted. “There’s one more thing in there.”

You pulled out a tiny Chicago Bears onesie, complete with a number 34 on the back for Walter Payton.

“A Bears fan, huh?” you said, smiling from ear to ear.

“I figured since the little guy or gal’s gonna be born right as football season’s kicking off, he’ll spend a lot of time on the couch watching the games with Uncle Derek. And we gotta be decked out in our matching gear.”

“If you let us sleep, Morgan,” Emily said, squeezing his shoulder playfully. “You can indoctrinate my son into being a sports fan all you want.”

“Or daughter!�� you protested, and the whole team laughed. By now, your faux-feud over the baby’s gender was well-known. They were even placing bets. It was about a 50/50 split.

“Alright, guys,” Emily said, clapping her hands together and rallying the troops. “One wall down, two walls to go. And one wall of wallpaper, but I don’t think that’ll take as long.”

JJ, Penelope, Hotch, and Dave stood to follow Emily to the nursery while Derek took a seat next to you. Spencer sat cross-legged on the floor with Jack, fully immersed in Mario Kart.

“Be there in a second, Emily,” he called. “We’re about to start Rainbow Road.”

You grinned, so glad to be surrounded by Emily’s family–her real family. Happy that you had people who were excited for you, people who took care of you, people who gave up their Saturday to help you get ready to welcome a new family member.

“Hey, Jack, add me and Derek in for the next round,” you said, lowering yourself gently onto the floor, Derek’s hand instinctively grasping yours to support you. “I play a mean Moo Moo Meadows.”

[kingofpopmj]

Can’t Go On Without You By My Side

Summary: You visit your boyfriend of two years on his BAD world tour. The excitement of witnessing him perform live is quickly tainted the moment she walks in.

Pairing: Michael Jackson x Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Requested: no

*Y/N's POV*

Michael and I were finally able to plan for me to visit him on tour. I was lucky enough to get a week and a half off of work and we were determined to make the most of it. Michael had insisted on picking me up from the airport even though he was technically supposed to be at the venue. We arrived about ten minutes after the show was scheduled to begin, but thankfully, no one called us out on it.

I stood off to the side, watching Michael completely own the stage. The way he mastered his onstage persona was breathtaking. His smile was so bright. I took a moment to discreetly admire his outfit, clinging to his body tighter with each passing song.

“He’s sexy, isn’t he?” A breathy voice sounded from beside me, interrupting my silent gawking. I guess I wasn't being as discreet as I thought.

“Um—” I looked to my left, making eye contact with a very tall woman. She was beautiful. A tight black dress clung to her body so tight it almost looked painted on. I know exactly who this is.

“The correct answer is yes. He can do it all, if you know what I mean.” My hands clenched into fists with such force I could feel my rings digging into my skin. “He’s absolutely the sexiest man alive. I’m so exhausted, he kept me up all night this past week. That's not a complaint by the way. He is so worth it.”

I couldn’t put together enough words to form a complete sentence. Quite frankly, all my focus was on holding myself back. I couldn’t catch a case right now. Michael might be cheating on me and this woman is certainly a whore. That was that. I couldn’t change fact. If I went off and beat the living shit out of some groupie it would ruin the rest of my life. I couldn’t let the anger control my behavior. He betrayed me, but I refuse to let him see how much it really broke me.

“I’m so sorry, I get all misty watching him. Don’t we all?” She laughed, squeezing my shoulder, little did she know she was dangerously close to losing those boney little fingers. “My name is Tatiana, and you are?” She held out her hand, batting her eyelashes so hard I thought she’d fly away. At least I hoped she would. Maybe over a large body of water, perhaps shark infested waters.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” She let out an exaggerated gasp, slapping her palm against her mouth.

“You’re the girlfriend! Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.” She quickly ran off leaving me standing there alone with this feeling in my stomach that I couldn’t describe.

I glanced around the immediate area, seeing no one else near me felt worse somehow. I don't know many people here other than Michael. I became distracted as he sang Rock With You, little did he know he was moments away from getting rocked. Y/N, no, stop. I release the tension in my hands, shaking it off, trying to let go of the violent thoughts swirling in my mind. Besides how therapeutic it was right now, it wasn’t productive. I need some air, a drink, a hitman? No. Air, I need air.

The clicks of my heels echoed through the halls as I headed towards an unknown destination. I'm probably lost, but that’s a problem for future Y/N.

*Michael's POV*

As Rock With You came to an end, I noticed Y/N disappear behind the curtain. Exactly, two songs have gone by since then and still no sign of her. During the brief outfit change after Thriller, before intermission, I notice Greg, my music director mouthing something to me.

"What?" I mouthed back, scratching my forehead. He's terrible at this.

"Your girl." Okay, I got that. I nodded, shrugging slightly as if to say and what about her.

"Mad."

I couldn’t play charades any longer, as the lights dimmed and the band took over the stage I snuck behind the large equipment to get closer to him.

"What happened?"

"I saw Tatiana talking to her. She did not look too happy after that brother."

I nodded slowly, processing his words before walking off. I should be taking advantage of my break, but I couldn’t relax not knowing where my girlfriend was.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you. What are you doing all the way back here?”

"Nothing I just needed some air." She said lowly, avoiding my eyes.

"Are you okay?" I moved towards her, cupping her face in my hands. The look in her eyes answering my question, but I wanted to hear it from her.

"Yeah, well, no, but it can wait until after the show."

"Are you sure?" I asked and she nodded in response. "Now, can you please come back with me? I perform better knowing my beautiful woman is watching me."

She accompanied me as I changed into my next outfit. She helped me slip into my coat, but my excitement was short lived, because I could sense her sadness. What is going on?

"I love you, baby." I watched closely as she struggled with her response, she began biting on her bottom lip, her eyes growing glossy. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Her voice cracked and she quickly turned away from me.

"I know you Y/N. You're hurting and I'd like to know what's going on so I can help."

"S—She—" Y/N broke down right, her body was shivering as she tried to compose herself. I felt less than helpless.

"Who?" I tried comforting her, but she brushed me off, moving away from me all together.

A quick knock on the door, signaling that intermission was coming to a close and I needed to get back out there.

"I'll let them know I need more time. I'll be right back."

"No!"

"You're crying. Y/N, baby, I'm not leaving you."

"I'm alright. Please, can we just talk about this later?"

I didn't want to agree, but she wasn't asking, she was practically begging. I intertwined our fingers, keeping her close as I weaved my way through the backstage area.

"Please, stand here and watch the rest of the show. It would mean the world to me." I smiled at her and kissed her temple as I hugged her.

"I'll be right here." She reaffirmed my confidence. Then, she grabbed my collar, pulling me into her lips. Her tongue was pure magic. Normally, I'd be embarrassed about public affection, but with the way I'm feeling, I'd love to feel every inch of her right here, right now. I didn't care who was watching.

She pulled away and I desperately chased her lips as she giggled at my neediness.

"You have to go."

"There is no way I'm leaving your side after that."

"You don't have a choice."

"I will be back. Very, very soon."

*Y/N's POV*

I watched the second half of Michael's concert the way I should've watched the first half. I enjoyed myself dancing and singing along to my man's voice. What Tatiana said hurt me, but I felt so foolish when I thought logically again. Michael isn't that type of person. I didn't need to talk to him about this, because once the anger and hurt wore off I was able to come to a conclusion on my own. She's lying. She has to be.

"You're still here?" This damn witch. "I'd be halfway home by now if I found out my boyfriend stepped out on me."

There was so much I wanted to say, but I chose to let her words go in one ear and out the other. The last thing I want to do is let her know she ever got to me.

"Well, that's my cue. Enjoy the show." She winked, walking pass me and flipping her hair.

I was forced to watch as Tatiana strutted across the stage with my boyfriend chasing after her. This was one of my favorite songs and now I couldn’t even enjoy it. I felt my blood begin to boil as she shamelessly flirted with him in front of the crowd of thousands.

She was getting closer and closer to him. She was doing this on purpose and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Why is this song so long all of the sudden?

"What the hell is she doing?" I heard Frank DiLeo grumble from behind me. I jumped a bit at his tone, but tried to play it off.

"Everything okay?" I asked softy.

"Hey darling, yeah she was supposed— what the hell! Get her off the damn stage! Now!"

I turned my attention back to the stage and I wished more than anything I wouldn’t have done that. I tried to blink as if that would change the view, but it didn’t.

I was stuck in that horrible moment as the worst thing I could imagine was confirmed. I had a front row seat to my own humiliation and I had no idea how to escape.

Before I knew it, she was walking towards me. "So happy you could be here to see what a real power couple looks like." She stopped in front of me, crossing her arms. "Sorry honey, he's moved on to bigger and better things."

I felt my cheeks heat up as I became uncomfortably aware of how many eyes were on us.

"Tatiana, that's enough. Get away from her." Frank shouted, shooing her away like a toddler.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

We stood in silence as Man in the Mirror blasted through the speakers. It wasn't until Michael's long passionate goodbye to his fans, wrapping up the concert that Frank slung his arm around my shoulder.

"Darling, you know she's full of it right?"

"I'm not sure."

"Michael and I have to take care of some business. I won't keep him too long and I'll send him your way after."

I knew that was his way of telling me it was private business that I couldn’t be around for. I hugged him before heading off, I wasn't really sure where I was going, but walking felt better than sitting with my thoughts.

"Baby! I'm so sorry. Frank told me what happened after—"

“I need to get out of here before I do something I regret.” Michael reached out, taking a firm hold of my hand, he pulled me down a short hallway and into his dressing room.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He finally spoke, shutting the door behind him.

“You’re sorry I had to see it?”

“Yes.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Y/N—”

“Does that mean you do it often?”

“No, that’s not—”

“You go around kissing other people when I’m not around?”

“Y/N, I’ve never—”

“I know they’re everywhere, throwing themselves at you, but I never thought you let them get to you.”

“Stop!”

“What!”

“I’ve never cheated on you!” He shouted in a tone I had never heard before, the look of pain present in his eyes. Shit.

“That’s not what people are saying.” I muttered, suddenly I felt so guilty.

“People? What people?”

“Who do you think! She said you two—”

“That’s a lie! I only see her during performances. That’s it. Y/N, I would never do that to you.”

“How am I supposed to believe you after that? She kissed you and you let her.”

“No, no, no! I didn’t let her! I wasn’t even paying attention to her. When I’m on stage, I’m there to perform. Why would I spend weeks planning for your visit just to betray you?”

“She was so awful to me, the things she said, then, she went out there and—”

“Got herself fired.”

“Michael, I’m pissed, but I’ll get over it. I don’t want this to affect business. You don’t have to fire her.”

“I already did.”

“Michael—”

“I only want to work with people who respect me and my loved ones. She won’t be missed. I don’t care to have people around me that I can’t trust.”

“I’m sorry I yelled. I’m so sorry I accused you of—” Michael shut me up, gripping my hips, pressing my body against his and kissing me sloppily. His hand claiming a possessive hold of the back of my neck, deepening his touch.

"I love you." he spoke into my mouth, his hot breath sent shivers down my spine. I felt myself tremble as his fingers explored my inner thigh, pushing up my skirt to give himself more access.

"I love you." I said, slipping my fingers around his belt buckle. He smiled knowingly, pushing me back, my ass collided with the counter and I felt myself crumble at his roughness. The cold countertop causing me to let out a moan. He pulled away for a moment, reaching behind me and clearing off the counter in one swift movement. "Such a gentleman." I purred in his ear as he picked me up.

"Only for you." A smirk on his face as the sound of nylon tearing filled my ears. "I love how sexy these look on you. I'll have to replace them." His long fingers slipping pass the freshly shredded fabric of my panties and teasing me one finger at a time. He watched as my head leaned back onto the mirrored wall, he chuckled as I struggled to find something to grab onto.

"Michael!" I was fighting to breath feeling him knuckle deep inside of me, hitting the right spot. "Fuck! Deeper!" I begged for more. Contrary to my needy cries, he pulled back, leaving me feeling empty as he unbuckled his belt, letting his pants fall to the ground. I took this opportunity to tear his shirt off, throwing it across the room.

Michael pushed my legs apart, admiring how much I yearned for him, he slowly pulled me towards him with a strong grip on my legs. My bare ass slide across the counter painfully slow until I finally felt his hard tip press against my entrance.

"Always so wet and ready for me." He slammed into me, giving me no time to adjust which threw me further over the edge.

"Harder!" I yelled as he pounded into me with such intensity I swear I could feel him rearranging my guts.

"Baby, I want to cum inside of you." His voice smooth, making me even more wet.

"Please!" The walls were shaking as we continued to devour one another.

"You're fucking perfect." He whispered against the bare skin of my chest, I felt him everywhere. My eyes rolled back as his dick massaged all the right places.

Suddenly, the door swung open violently, causing me to panic and try to cover my exposed chest, but Michael stopped me. He grabbed my wrists trapping them behind my back in on of his hands as he increased his speed again. My moans escaped my throat against my will as tears of pleasure rolled down my cheeks. At this point, my entire body was shaking, Michael's tongue rolling against mine elongating my high further.

"What the fuck are you doing!" A voice shouted, causing my head to snap in the direction of its origin. Tatiana.

"You feel so good wrapped around my dick." He declared as he sucked on my neck. It was impossible to concentrate on anything else but his lips. "I'll never get tired of fucking this perfect pussy." Michael didn’t stop. He spoke clearly and confidently as he fucked me with purpose.

"Get the fuck out of here!" Tatiana yelled.

"Y/N!" Michael whimpered, his seed spreading within me, causing my legs to tingle. He gazed deep into my eyes, beads of sweat trailing down his face. "I fucking love you." His hand gently curled around the side of my neck, pulling me back into his sweet mouth.

"What the fuck!" Another shout from the demon herself. I paid it no mind. Looking back at Michael, his long dick still twitching inside of me.

"I love you baby." I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck, leaning into his neck to leave my mark. Tatiana stood there staring at us in shock, so naturally I challenged her stare. I waited to see if Michael would break focus, but he didn’t.

“We are busy in here. Close the door on your way out.” Michael said sternly between breaths, not even sparing her a glance.

The door slammed shut seconds later and it was only then that I took the time to look around the dimly lit room. Make-up and personal belongings littered the floor. Various unfamiliar items surrounded us, leading me to believe that I was made apart of one very well thought out, very devious plan and it turned me on.

"Michael?"

"Yes, my love?"

“This isn’t your dressing room, is it?”

“Nope.” He smiled triumphantly, planting tender kisses all over my face.

“You’re so sneaky.”

“You’re my girl. That’s never changing.”

“You quite literally marked your territory.” I giggled as he caressed my collarbone, watching as goosebumps formed.

“Oh, Y/N, baby, I’m just getting started. We’re gonna be here all night.”

“Let’s see what you got rockstar.”

“Baby, don’t make me carry you out on that stage and give those lovely people an encore they’ll never forget.”

“A girl can dream can’t she?”

I winked teasingly as I positioned myself onto my knees, looking up at the man I love, confident I was about to give him the best head of his life.

[whityoungplushie]

hello fellow aliens. I AM HERE TO DISCUSS SOMETHING ONCE AGAIN!! this time, instead of discussing xandvid. IM GOING TO TALK ABOUT CHARWHIT!!

(once again this could be spoilers for the new drdt episode, aka chapter 2 episode 12)

in the newest episode, i noticed something, that every single time charles would talk, whit would finish his sentence, this goes both ways. (whit saying something and charles finishes the sentence.) its also kind of weird that whit knows charles doesnt have a alibi, but this could just be a coincidence, we will never really know. BUT WHAT WE DO KNOW IS THAT CHARLES AND WHIT HAVE GOTTEN WAYYYY MORE CLOSER THAN AT THE BEGINNING OF THE GAME. WE CAN ALSO TELL THAT CHARLES IS TRYING TO BE MORE KIND TOWARDS WHIT. like for example, in chapter 2 episode 2, whit says "Oh, right. I did say he was my "friend" during that trial, didn't I. To be honest... That was a total lie! I only said that to make everyone believe my case! But I guess he took it to heart, or thinks he owes me, or something, because he's been weirdly nice as of late." blah blah blah whit goes on to say hes changed his mind, and that they are friends.

and yes, i know. THIS COULD ALL MEAN NOTHING. but JUST THE FACT THAT CHARLES BECOME KINDER TOWARDS WHIT EVER SINCE THE TRIAL IS JUST. JUST SO SWEET I GUESS YOUD SAY??

so technically, what im trying to say is charwhit, no matter if you ship them romantically or platonically. THEY WERE MADE FOR EACH OTHER!!! in my opinion that is, and it's okay if you dont ship then at all, because at the end of the day everones opinions should be respected!

once again, thank you for reading all this. whats your opinion on the new episode?? id like to know! any theorys you guys want me to address?(if any of this information is wrong or something spelt wrong, please tell me so i can correct it! THANK YOU!!!)

[happiest-hotch]

Dinner for Three

Summary: Going to the BAU with the intention of dragging your boyfriend away from working all night proves to be a good decision when you meet a team member of his who needs some cheering up based on the ending scene of 11x09 with an Aaron Hotchner x reader component

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (fluff)

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: a very slight sexual reference

You're slightly disappointed when you get Aaron's call.

He'd left the BAU early that night to pick you up for your 8 pm dinner date. It hadn't worked, and he texted you something cryptic about a new case involving a longer-running case that concerned the team's technical analyst.

As always, he was incredibly apologetic, calling you as soon as he had a chance, but you don't mind. You know how important his job is and the sacrifices he has to make. Plus, the other times this has happened, he more than made it up to you, proving to be the sweet boyfriend you know he is.

He texts you the next night to let you know they're still working, but he's okay and in Virginia. It's so late that you don't get a chance to text him back until the morning, and you're just hoping he got some sleep during the night, but it doesn't seem likely.

On the second night, he's more upbeat, delivering the good news about his case closing. Oddly, you don't get another message that he's on his way into DC.

With your own profiling effort, you deduce he went to the BAU and got stuck into his paperwork, no doubt putting eating and sleeping at the bottom of his priority list. As a diligent girlfriend, you're walking out the door of your apartment to force him to leave to get something to eat before you can overthink about having never been to his office or the possibility he might not want to see you.

After making it through security and proving who you're there to see, you take the elevator to the sixth floor. It's dead silent, probably because it's close to 10 at night.

Aside from the fluorescent overhead lights in the bullpen and the corridor, the only other light on is an office on the left after you step off the elevator.

It has to be Aaron's since he's most likely the only one here, you reason as you walk toward the door. Gently you tap on the doorframe, but the woman inside definitely isn't your boyfriend.

There are personal belongings in the office, clothing, and boxes scattered on the sofa and table, and two suitcases on the floor, like someone's been living out of the office, and judging by the jacket's pattern, it could be the woman in the room.

She jumps when she sees you, and you quickly apologize. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

She shakes her head. "No. No, it's okay."

Then you realize it's weird that you're just standing there without an explanation, a total stranger. "I'm looking for Aaron Hotchner."

Nervousness flashes across her features. "Agent Hotchner is due back soon. Sorry, who are you?"

It's a question you expected, knowing you might bump into other agents, despite hoping you wouldn't. Aaron has told you about how he keeps his personal life, and therefore you, further away from his professional life than he used to, and you're not sure he'd want his team to know who you are.

You also should have anticipated the suspicion in her voice since people out there want to hurt them and could find their way into the offices to do so.

"His...friend." You settle on. It doesn't even sound right to say anymore. "Although, if he said that about me, he'd be in trouble." You joke mostly to yourself.

She looks more excited now, grinning like a little kid who's found a secret block of chocolate. "I'm Penelope Garcia, the BAU's technical analyst."

"Oh, of course. Aaron talks a lot about you." You tell her, putting a face to the stories as you shake her hand. "I'm Y/n L/n."

"The reason he smiles every time he checks his phone nowadays?" She asks, now eager.

Heat rises to your cheeks. You've seen the smile Penelope's talking about when you catch Aaron looking at you before he bashfully looks away. It's adorable and heartwarming to think about him doing it around his colleagues and probably trying to hide it.

"Sometimes." You downplay it. "It could be him getting a picture of Jack."

She shakes her head. "No, he shows us those. Texts ding on his phone, and he tries to hide his smile, and that's how we know it's not BAU-related. Theories about what they are and who they're from is the hottest gossip around here."

"It better be me then." You say, although you have no doubts that it is. "Otherwise, he's got some explaining to do."

Penelope laughs lightly. "Don't worry. He's about as loyal as they come."

You had come to that conclusion by yourself, but it's good to have it verified by someone who has known him for over a decade.

She catches your eyes wandering around the room and explains it. "I don't know how much you know, but I'm on lockdown here until further notice."

"Aaron mentioned it vaguely." You tell her. "I'm sorry. It must suck." It's not the most aesthetically pleasing home with bleak concert walls, generic lamps, and no closet. She's provided you with information about Aaron's whereabouts and character, so it's your turn to try and help her. "This couch wouldn't look as bad with some sheets, and I'm sure you've got some decorations. I can help. Only if you'd like, no pressure."

Instantly, she sees the optimistic side of you that Aaron admires and loves. "Yeah." Penelope agrees slowly. "Thank you."

She hasn't wanted to take anything out of her bags because it means this nightmare would be real, but you're offering to help, and she realizes she could do with a friend. If she happened to stumble across information about her boss during the process, then so be it. 

You help her brighten up the room, complimenting her comfort decorations.

"So, what's it like to be in a relationship with Aaron Hotchner?" She asks you as she fluffs the throw pillows on the couch, and you hang fairy lights.

After ten minutes of non-Aaron-related talk, you know she's been refraining from asking questions about your relationship. 

"Amazing." You answer effortlessly. "He's..." You trail off from your sentence when someone clears their throat, and you turn around to see your handsome but tired-looking boyfriend standing in the doorway. "Hey."

His expression softens seeing you there, but his features show confusion. "Hey." He returns while acknowledging Penelope with a nod as he steps further into the room. The hand not holding his briefcase comes to rest on your lower back, and you lean into his warmth. "What are you doing here?"

You weren't expecting him to show you physical affection in front of people he knows, but it's a welcomed surprise. "I thought I'd come and convince you not to sit at your desk doing paperwork all night."

He avoids being very unprofessional and asking exactly how you planned to distract him since you're under the careful observation of Penelope, who's memorizing your interaction to repeat to the team tomorrow. 

"There are still a few things we need to go over, Garcia," Aaron says to her. About the case they just closed, you figure, but it can't be overwhelmingly good news because he wouldn't stretch out telling her that she's safe. "Are you going to be okay?"

You admire her bravery as she nods with tears filling her vision. "I'm gonna make myself a vegetarian omelet for dinner." She says before pausing. "Do you both want to stay?" She quickly backtracks. "Forget that. You've probably got places to be, sorry."

Aaron looks to you for your judgment, and although he's letting you decide since this would typically be time you two spend together, there's an answer he would prefer. 

"No, we've got nothing planned, and I'm starving." You confirm. Penelope's face lights up, the sadness she's holding onto about her new living quarters feeling less heavy. "Do you have jalapenos?" 

"Do I have jalapenos?" She repeats, suggesting an obvious answer. She moved to grab the ingredients. "I should let you know that I have had a love affair with all things hot and spicy since I was, like, 12."

You smile at her delight as Aaron takes the chopping board she handed him with a bowl full of jalapenos. "Maybe the more important question is will you judge me for putting them on my food even if they make me cry a little?" You ask, nudging Aaron, who knows the incident you're referencing.

She looks at him in horror before turning back to you. "Is there any other way to eat them?" She asks.

"Someone." You nod to Aaron, who's getting to work on his task. "Eats spicy food without even tearing up."

He snorts out a laugh. "You weren't crying 'a little.'" He reminds you, defending himself playfully. "It was full-on crying with mascara tracks down your cheeks. You should have seen her, Penelope." He continues. "Seriously, I thought we were about to get kicked out of that restaurant. The waitress was so concerned." He laughs at the memory. He concluded that night that your crying with pleasure tendency is much better when it's only the two of you.

You lightly hit him on the shoulder to scold him before letting your hand linger to test the boundaries. He relaxes under your touch, muscles relaxing a little.

"It's a natural reaction." You jokingly argue back. "I'm on a spicy food ban at restaurants now." You inform Penelope.

"Oh, you've got to come to the next pasta night at Rossi's." She tells you. "It's the best food you can get, no jalapenos involved."

You look to Aaron for permission, not wanting to agree to something if he doesn't want you around his friends. He smiles lightly at you, now knowing introducing you and merging two parts of his life isn't as risky as he thought it might be.

"I'd love that." You agree. "Ready for that, Aaron?"

"Please agree." Penelope jumps in. "They'll love her. Don't worry." She assures you. "I'll make sure the team knows how perfect you are for him." 

Aaron chuckles beside you. "I don't doubt that." 

There's a double meaning that you and Aaron catch. Most obviously, Aaron knows the team will find out about your dinner together and probably learn every detail about you that they can before you officially meet, and additionally, he doesn't have any doubts that you're perfect for him.

[makeste]

Plus One For All

so guys. can we talk about how there’s somebody chilling out inside of Katsuki’s mind who’s not supposed to be there.

hello there Mister All Might Vestige sir. you should not exist, just FYI. you’re not some Nighteye-type plot hallucination. because if you were, you would not be appearing here as Cloud Might, a version of yourself whom Katsuki has never met and has no frame of reference for. ergo he did not imagine you. ergo you are, in fact, real.

which means Katsuki has One For All.

because that’s the only way he could have a Vestige -- which is indisputably what this is -- inside of him. he has OFA. so. where did he get it. how does he have it. and why is it only making its presence known now.

let’s discuss.

okay so I’m going to try and lay this all out as clearly as possible while also attempting to be as succinct as I can. but knowing me, I’m probably going to wind up sacrificing the latter in pursuit of the former. I’ll do my best though. here goes.

1. Heroes Rising is canon.

which is a fact we’ve recently been reminded of not once, but twice -- first with the appearance of Katsuma and Mahoro in chapter 405, and then in chapter 406 with the “Bakugou no Kacchan” callback. the timing of this almost certainly isn’t coincidental. Horikoshi wants this to be fresh in our minds.

mind you, it is extremely unusual for movies, even technically!canon ones, to actually be relevant to the plot. but BnHA may be one of the few exceptions. we’ve already seen movie 1 impact the series both with Star & Stripe’s backstory, and with Deku’s new gauntlets. so there’s precedent, and it’s something I am paying very close attention to.

2. Deku giving OFA to Bakugou is canon.

just in case anyone here hasn’t yet seen or been spoiled for Heroes Rising, that is in fact what happens in that film! so yeah, that certainly seems like an extremely relevant detail right about now.

3. we never found out why and how Deku got OFA back at the end of the movie.

okay so I was looking for a clip to link before we discuss this next part, but I unfortunately couldn’t find one that hadn’t been edited to avoid copyright issues, so you’ll just have to make do with this.

skip ahead to about 7:10 for the relevant part. for the purposes of this theory, we’re just going to ignore everything All Might says here, because tbh he has no fucking clue what’s actually going on and is just guessing wildly lol. however, I do want you to take note of one thing which will be important later. and that’s the fact that, when OFA “returns” to Deku’s body, it’s only his body which starts glowing, and notably not Kacchan’s. the latter just keeps lying there unglowingly. nothing to indicate any kind of transfer is actually happening between him and Deku, in other words.

moving on.

4. OFA and AFO are probably the same quirk.

as summarized here and here. which is relevant because if they are the same quirk, or close to it, then OFA can most likely do anything AFO can do. so file that away for later.

5. AFO was able to split his quirk and give it to Tomura while still keeping a piece of it for himself.

what’s more, he was able to do the same with Garaki/Ujiko’s quirk, and presumably other quirks as well. while it’s possible that this quirk duplication has nothing to do with AFO and is simply something Garaki was able to figure out using ~*~Science~*~, I think it’s more likely that the two of them used AFO’s quirk in some way to accomplish this feat. particularly since Tomura not only received AFO, but a bunch of its stored up quirkdata as well, such as the information stored in Ragdoll’s stolen Search quirk.

6. OFA responds to Deku’s feelings and desires.

or at least this is the case according to Banjou in chapter 213. recall this interesting conversation on how Deku first activated Blackwhip.

he was thinking that he wanted to capture Monoma, and so OFA obediently activated his “capture Monoma” quirk. despite him being unaware he even had said quirk. it responded to his need, even though he wasn’t consciously trying to activate anything.

now then, let’s revisit that scene in Heroes Rising one more time.

7. during the climax of Heroes Rising, Deku was NOT thinking, “I need to give OFA to Kacchan.”

here’s the scene one more time for reference. this time you’re gonna want to skip to about 3:57.

here’s where we are going to get extremely technical, because this scene right here is the key to everything. Deku’s lines in this scene are, and I quote: “a way we can protect [everyone]... there’s just one way...!” but he very notably does not specify exactly what that “one way” is.

until we get to this scene a minute or so later, which spells it out for us very clearly.

two One For Alls. as in, “with two One For Alls, we could win this battle and save everyone.”

that’s what he was thinking at the moment of the “transfer.” NOT, “give OFA to Kacchan.” but, “we need two One For Alls.”

which, I think, may have made all the difference.

8. OFA created a copy of itself to share with Kacchan, so that both of them could have OFA and use the two OFAs to defeat Nine.

let’s recap. OFA is AFO. AFO can clone itself. so it stands to reason that OFA can presumably clone itself as well. and that’s exactly what Deku wanted to do. make a second One For All.

he didn’t know that he could do that. but as previously established in the Blackwhip incident, OFA is more than capable of making its own executive decisions in key moments just like this in order to help him out.

which would mean that what we saw at the end of Heroes Rising was not OFA being transferred from Bakugou back over to Deku. it was actually just Deku’s OFA briefly self-activating (possibly in response to his delirious apology to All Might -- kind of a “no worries bro, you’ve still got your quirk actually, so go back to sleep and stop stressing over it” type of thing). and Kacchan’s OFA doing... absolutely nothing. it didn’t actually transfer back into Deku. it didn’t actually go anywhere.

let me repeat that: it didn’t actually go anywhere.

in other words, Kacchan still has OFA. and has had it ever since Heroes Rising. he just didn’t realize it. and neither did anybody else.

9. Kacchan’s OFA went dormant once Nine was defeated.

okay, so. remember all of this exposition from chapter 304?

basically, if someone who already has a quirk receives OFA, using it will slowly destroy their body until it kills them. the Vestiges learned this from All Might while he was researching the past generations of OFA in chapter 241, incidentally. Heroes Rising takes place right around this same time (immediately following MVA if I recall). so by the time the film’s climax rolled around, the Vestiges would have known that giving OFA to Kacchan could have devastating consequences down the line if they did not take action immediately after the fight.

so they did.

once Nine was defeated, the Vestiges shut the whole thing down. the crisis was averted, and they no longer had need of a second OFA. they have this boy who is way too similar to Deku in terms of his willingness to put himself in harm’s way in order to achieve his goals. and they absolutely do not want any harm befalling this boy. more on that momentarily.

so they go dark. and they even seal his memory so that he’s no longer aware of even having the quirk. they are essentially in sleep mode. and if circumstances hadn’t eventually become desperate enough to force their hand, they might have remained inactive for the rest of Katsuki’s life.

now, you might be wondering to yourself, “why is OFA willing to go to such unusual lengths in order to protect Katsuki?” and well, the answer to that is pretty simple.

10. Kacchan does not have the same version of OFA as Deku.

Deku is ninth gen. Katsuki, however, is tenth gen. which means that his version of OFA has one additional Vestige. a Vestige whose presence immediately explains why OFA is so goddamn determined to protect him at all costs.

:’)

long story short, while Deku’s version of OFA has proven itself all too willing to enable him in his increasingly suicidal mission, Katsuki’s version of OFA is very much a different story, on account of it being under the management of what I’m guessing is the most willful Vestige ever to exist. and said management being just the slightest bit unhinged when it comes to Katsuki’s safety in particular. seriously, you can’t tell me this is not exactly how a Deku!Vestige would behave. “oh hell no. no OFA for you!! and no memories either, because you can’t be trusted, goddammit. we never should have done this. what the hell were we thinking. if anything happens to him I will kill everyone in this room and then myself.”

so yeah. dormant.

right up until they literally couldn’t afford to be anymore.

11. OFA can self-activate in moments of crisis to protect its user.

Sports Festival. chapter 33. Deku vs. Shinsou.

aw yeah. it’s all coming together.

12. OFA reactivated itself in order to save Katsuki’s life.

I would now like to briefly draw your attention to this scene from chapter 405, in which Edgeshot explains how Katsuki was finally saved. please note my man is very clear that he did not restart Katsuki’s heart himself. he was basically just performing quirk CPR up until Katsuki’s own quirk returned him to life apropros of nothing.

“what brought you back... was the power you’ve honed.”

except... that should have been impossible. because Katsuki was dead. meaning he should not have been able to activate his quirk on his own, on account of the whole “being dead” thing.

however, if he by chance had a quirk with just enough of a mind of its own to activate in critical situations in order to help its user. situations like being forced under mind control. or, perhaps, being stabbed through the heart. well then. that would certainly go a long way towards explaining all of this.

and oh hey, when exactly was it that we saw this guy, again?

oh? it happened at the exact moment when his heart was stabbed through? you don’t say. well that certainly is interesting.

in summary:

Deku cloned his quirk in Heroes Rising and gave Kacchan a copy of OFA. owing to the hyperprotective Deku!Vestige inside Kacchan’s copy of OFA, it shut itself down once Nine was defeated, and all of Katsuki’s memories of having OFA were deliberately wiped, or sealed away. OFA itself remained inactive until TomurAFO stabbed Katsuki through the heart, at which point OFA was forced to reactivate itself to save his life. which it did, by forcibly restarting his heart.

that’s it. no idea how close to the money any of this is, but I think it would explain most of the lingering mysteries and questions about what exactly is going on with Katsuki. and I’ll throw in one last observation as well -- Katsuki has a nine in his name (BaKUgou), but not a ten. which I know sort of contradicts what I was saying earlier about him being the tenth gen, lol. but he both is and isn’t. if Deku split his quirk, Kacchan would in theory receive everything that’s currently in Deku’s quirk right now, and that includes Deku’s own power that he’s been adding to the mix. so he’d still have the Deku!Vestige. but he’s also still ninth gen, because he and Deku are sharing that distinction now. or at least I think the argument could be made at any rate.

so yeah. I’ve been obsessing over all of this for the past few days lol. what do you guys think?

[littlekiara96]

Hey, Penacony spoilers ahead for up to the end of 2.3. THEORY AHEAD. (kinda crack, kinda not, I'm talking about Gallagher)

Y'know, it's funny how Gallagher, a History Fictionologist, told like 1 lie.

And then, Mr. Reca, a Memokeeper, told some guy "Love the unknown" once.

Like, guys, switch places, please. That would make more sense.

I remember when I found inconsistencies with how people treated Gallagher; one of two Bloodhounds "recognising" him, another Bloodhound going "Who?" and then the receptionist at the Family's mansion acting as if he's some important person who's rarely sought out by people?

I swear, this still makes no sense... unless......

And Reca is sometimes a well-known director. Sometimes a self-proclaimed one.

Chabro and Aideen? Love the guy. Nobodies? Who does this dude think he is.

But hey. You know what makes me go "What the HELL is going on here"?

I have two questions.

Why "Mr. Reca"? And not Mr. Reca?

How the hell does this guy know about Gallagher AND HIS DEATH.

Okay, so I guess this Reca is indeed a Memokeeper who uses camera and film to record (rec - Reca) stuff and retell stories. He should be the same Memokeeper Black Swan mentions at the Studios.

And I suspect this censored movie to be his work.

Hey, remember who did so much to make sure that some people's names and true stories would be restored?

Yeah, funny coincidences.

And then, nobody remembers Gallagher, ironically. Except us, Nameless.

And except Reca, SOMEHOW. (Aideen. Gallagher is the guy thanked BEFORE YOUR OWN BRAND, DID YOU EVEN WATCH THE MOVIE.)

But ultimately, Aideen is right. Gallagher wasn't made to be remembered.

Sorry, I mean, "Gallagher the History Fictionologist" isn't meant to be remembered.

We know "Gallagher" is fake. And I'm not just talking about his appearance; ALL OF HIM is fictional. He is a character, a role. And like any role... there has to be an actor playing the part. The person who came up with "Gallagher". The person who is still there once the character isn't needed anymore.

The person we didn't see when "Gallagher" disappeared off-screen.

And I guess that person would also be the real Gallagher... The one who was so loyal to Mikhail.

Or... was he all that loyal to Mikhail?

There's something so fickle about calling an unshakable loyalty "imaginary". I know it's meant positively here, but it's so easy to turn this upside-down...

I mean, the purpose of "Gallagher" was to fulfill one promise to Mikhail. And once that has been done... the real Gallagher could do whatever, afterwards. He's free of his role as "Gallagher" the History Fictionologist... who did the exact opposite of what a Fictionologist would do...... by restoring the truth of the past.........

Gallagher is the worst at his job, isn't he. Almost like he should be a Memokeeper, instead.

Anyway. I have a technical question.

Where did Reca get the memory segments to recreate Firefly for the Scorchsand Venue movie?

I see two possibilities:

Got them from someone else (Aideen, other witnesses, maybe from the surroundings themselves?)

Himself

In the first case, it makes sense, I have no further question.

In the second case, though... When did Reca meet Firefly? Did he need to actually meet her or would just seeing her from afar suffice? Depending on the answers to those questions, things might get complicated.

Okay, it's time I stopped beating around the bush. I've been drawing mirrored parallels between "Gallagher" and "Mr. Reca" from the very start of this post. You're probably guessing what my point is by now.

But first... Remember Sleepie? a.k.a. Dormancy?

Poor thing came to Scorchsand searching for Gallagher...

But there was no trace of him there anymore since... before Sleepie arrived... Right?

And there's no way Gallagher would still be around... Right?

... why would you say that if you know your whole being will disappear once you're done with your final task...

i mean, it's not like there was yet another Hound statue in Dreamflux Reef, next to the three epitaphs of the Nameless, right?! Grmbl...

Remember when Himeko said "In the end, we still failed to figure out his true identity, or if he was even a "living person"? Because I SURE REMEMBER.

Anyway, we don't know where Reca was when Sleepie arrived at Scorchsand, but-

I think it's safe to say that they interracted to some extent.

BUT that's in fact still not what made me go "WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL IS GOING ON HERE???!!"

Remember how the movie started?

With the phrase: "Even now, the world is still filled with characters that we've played."

The hell do you mean by that, Reca.

And it ended with the phrase: "We will keep playing our roles, drunken and foolish in the moment, playing at life but never thinking to celebrate it." Then the credits roll.

Heyyyy, I know someone else who talks about celebrating life. And used bits of other people's lives to create a whole new "character". Kinda like how you can pick pieces of different stories to make a whole new story. Or movie, for that matter.

And hey... Reca told us "My lens is upon you… Don't let me down. And more importantly, don't let the audience down."

You know who told us we had interesting life stories? YEAH.

Hey. Let's go back to Brina. The receptionist.

You know how we could easily explain this?

If the real Gallagher's full name was Gallagher Reca.

Or maybe "Mr. Reca" is just yet another pseudonym. I mean, why would he credit himself as "Mr. Reca" and not Reca. That's fishy.

ANYWAY, this theory has been on my mind for maybe 4 months now, so I'm glad I've finally manage to write all of my thoughts down.

[darkestspring]

Could you do one where Helaena’s lover, who is also her personal guard manages to stop blood and cheese from happening and him comforting her afterwards and the kids kinda looking at him as a father figure bc aegon wasn’t really interested in them until he became king so naturally they’re more attached to him please?

technically a part two to this but can be read on it's own.

You found one exiting Aemond's empty chamber as you were walking past and automatically put a sword through his chest, watching him bleed out quickly as you raced past and reached the twin's room. you quietly opened the door, the hinges don't squeak anymore, after you insistently had a servant fix the issue when it started bothering the twins. you pressed your finger up to your lips as Helaena and she pretended that she didn't notice you. She looked distressed and so did the twins but none of them were harmed.

you quickly plunged the sword into the other one's chest, only ripping it out when he started to fall to the floor before stabbing him twice more for good measure, for each person in the room he frightened.

"Come," You urged Helaena closer and she flew towards you, sobbing into you and you cradled her head softly with your clean hand. "It's okay, it's over." You assured her softly. "Wait here while i take care of the body." You whispered quietly to her. "Barricade the door in case there is more. Don't let anyone in but me." You didn't know who else was in on it.

Helaena nodded in fright as she rushed back over to the twins and you followed suit for a moment.

"Ser," Jaehaerys sobbed and you frowned softly, hatred filling you. You wished you had tortured the two men, for making the three lights of your life scared.

"I'll be right bad, once I clean up this mess and make sure no one else is coming to bother you, I'll be back." You whispered to him softly, leaning down and kissing his forehead before turning to Jaehaera. "I'll be back soon, my sweet loves."

You turned to Helaena, "I'll make certain that the three of you aren't in any danger and I'll come back to you. Don't let anyone in but me, not unless you truly trust them." You told her once again, looking down at her.

"Please be safe," She whispered softly, you reach up and cupped her cheek with your clean hand.

"I will be. I will return to you unscathed." You promised before exiting the room, dragging the dead man with you.

You weren't certain where you were going but you dumped them somewhere away before having another guard take care of it. His penance for not knowing what was about to occur to the queen and her children.

You took off your bloody gear when you were certain there was no one else hiding in wait to hurt her but kept your sword on you and you knocked softly on the door to the twin's room. "It is me." You called out softly.

The sound of something scraping against the floor sounded and the door opened and you saw the relieved look on her face. She sut the door after you walked in. You set your sword to the side, close enough to grab but out of the children's view. No need to traumatize them more.

You picked up jaehaerys and jaehaera and sat with them in your lap as they snuggled closer to you. "I checked every nook and cranny, you're safe now. No more evil men coming for you. I will always keep you safe." You whispered to them as they fall back asleep in your arms.

"I mean it." You looked over at the hovering Helaena. "I will always protect you and keep you safe." You assured her.